Work Text:
Breathe in, breathe out.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Breathe in, breathe–
A sob escaped his mouth. No. No, no, no– He tried to hold it in, but all the effort was in vain. The tears just kept coming, and there was no way to stop them. Please... stop. His entire body shivered from the cold air and constant sobbing. What if someone hears?
Shouto shook his head; he had to try again. Breathe in... 1... 2... 3... 4... Hold... 5... 6... 7... 8... Breathe out... Breathe in–
But the tears simply continued to stream down his face, making it just so much harder to stay calm. “Why did it have to be today?” he whispered between choking on sobs. “Just one more night and everyone would’ve been gone...”
A white cloud of air left his mouth, which diverted Shouto’s attention momentarily. Why is it– Oh, oh no. Panicked eyes flew to the ruined tatami sheets under his palm. “Shit–” The bedding on his left was covered in a thick layer of frost. When Shouto lifted his hand away in panic, a wave of mist followed along. His quirk was still on, creating ice particles as a stress response.
In an attempt to turn [Half-Cold Half-Hot] off, Shouto tried to shake it off, which only made the quirk react more violently. A spike of ice shot out to the far corner of the room, reaching the small nightstand.
Shouto leaned forward in surprise. He closed his eyes, focusing on taming the quirk inside of him. Why is it so hard? Panting from the lack of air and cold, Shouto tried to reign in his rampaging emotions. Come on. Calm down. Inhaling sharply, he forced his fist closed, despite the violent shaking.
Slowly Shouto opened his eyes to find the complete mess his room had been turned into. He quickly stood up, ignoring the protests of his aching limbs, and moved in the direction the spike had hit.
On his way to the lone nightstand, something sharp embedded in his foot. Shouto hissed in pain, crouching beside the wall. Taking a look at his injured leg, he realised that it was... glass? As his gaze wandered back to the floor, he noticed that it was littered in tiny glass shards. Crap!
He shot up to his feet and rushed to the nightstand, stepping on the pieces of broken glass. Shouto’s breath hitched when he saw the scene before him. No, it’s not fair...
He could feel a fresh wave of tears coming, but they didn’t even get a chance to start pouring out, as there was a knock on his door. It made Shouto freeze up, afraid of even making the quietest sound. Nobody was supposed to see him... see him like this — weak, shaking, distressed, a mess.
Yeah, he was a complete mess right now...
The realisation was so sudden that it made Shouto hiccup in surprise, which was followed by the onslaught of hot tears against the frost on his cheeks.
“Todoroki-kun? Are you alright? I think I’ve heard something break.”
No, please go away. Shouto leaned on the wall behind him, allowing the exhaustion to creep up on him and drag him down to the floor in an agonising flurry of emotions.
“Todoroki-kun, I can hear you.” Please. Shouto’s sobs kept getting harder to hide under all the pain and emotional turmoil. “I’m coming in.”
“No–” I don’t want you to see me like this... “It’s... alright,” he said, looking over at the nightstand. “I’ve just dropped a box.”
There was no response from behind the door, which only left Shouto suffocating in the silence of the night, but after a while, Midoriya replied, “Okay.” Shouto let out a quiet sigh of relief. “You know that you can tell me if you need help, right?”
The words were like a bucket of cold water over Shouto’s head. He swallowed around the tight lump in his throat and said– There were no words to leave his mouth. After a minute or so, he heard Midoriya's footsteps disappearing into the quiet of the night. Stupid. He sniffled in the crisp air of his room. “So stupid...”
Shouto didn’t know how much time he had spent sitting on the frozen floor of his room, but right now he only wanted to curl up tighter and just fall asleep. He couldn’t.
Every time he closed his eyes, the vivid memories of his dream never failed to resurface. Shouto doubted that he would get any more sleep tonight, and that left him with the only other option to pass the time — cleaning up his mess.
When he got up, the pain in his legs reminded him of how exhausted he was, and the fact that they had an awful training session with Aizawa-sensei yesterday didn’t help in the slightest. It was fine though; some sore muscles weren’t reason enough to ignore his slip-ups.
After getting a semblance of balance on his feet, Shouto decided to melt the ice before cleaning everything up. He moved purely on instinct — just like back at home, as if his mind was covered with a layer of fog. It gave him peace, took away the need to think or... process his emotions. The thing was hard enough as it was; no need to make it even more complicated.
As the time went on, Shouto felt the water, which didn’t evaporate, gather around his feet — it felt almost grounding. A tender sentiment, a feeling just as much as it was a reminder of how careless he could be — how laughably easy it would be for him to harm the ones closest to him — the harsh reality.
When there was no more ice in sight, the dim shining of the floor reminded Shouto of one more damaged item. Right. I need to get all the glass pieces. He moved around the room in sombre quiet, picking up all the shards — the bigger ones first, then the smaller ones, until there were only smithereens left.
Shouto wasn’t going to throw them away. He placed them all on his nightstand, right next to an empty frame. With time to get lost in, the bits and pieces were slowly filling in the blank space of the small mirror in his hand.
But the more shards were placed in their place, the more obvious it was that some pieces were still missing, but no matter how hard Shouto looked, he had no luck finding them. Not under the bed, or under the nightstand, or on the shelves, or on his desk. They were simply gone, missing, and leaving him looking at his reflection — his face broken by the countless lines, and– and the sole bright eye of turquoise staring back at him. Framed, oh so beautifully, by the crimson halo of his hair. It is just like–
Shouto was broken out of his trance by a knock on the door. There was some shuffling on the other side before he heard a voice. “Ugh, Todoroki-kun, are you asleep?” Oh, it’s Midoriya. A pit of guilt started brewing at the bottom of his stomach. He must’ve been worried. “Can I come in? I have tea. Only if you want, of course!” Stupid. Shouto swallowed thickly before getting up and approaching the door.
He glanced back at the mess in his room: the frozen sheets soaked in melted ice, the slippery floor, the broken mirror. Shouto’s gaze paused on his disfigured face in a piece of glass — bags under his eyes, dishevelled hair, a shirt wet from sweat and water. I shouldn’t–
“It’s fine, Todoroki-kun,” Midoriya went on with that same kind voice. “I can leave.”
The pit only grew deeper. It made him feel so bad, guilty, and miserable–
He pushed the door open.
“You can come in.” Shouto pushed the words out of his throat, but they came out wrong — weak, quiet, hoarse.
“Alright,” Midoriya smiled at him. He walked past Shouto into the room and put the tray with what looked like two cups of tea and some crackers. However, when he turned back around to Shouto, his expression morphed into one of pure horror. Am I really that unsightly...? “Todoroki-kun, you’re bleeding!”
What–
Midoriya ran up to him, taking his hands in his — they were so warm. And only then Shouto noticed the dark, dried-up traces running down his hands. Oh.
“Sorry, I’ll clean up,” Shouto answered without giving it a second thought, but he was interrupted by Midoriya speaking up again.
“Todoroki-kun,” he said firmly, “your feet.”
When Shouto looked down, there was a trail of bloody footsteps all across the wooden floor. “Oh,” he breathed out.
Midoriya was quick to forget about the tray with food and drew closer to Shouto, only for him to flinch away. That made his friend stop, and for a moment Shouto thought that this was it. This was when Midoriya was finally done dealing with all of this, and it was entirely his fault. Why can’t I ever act normal–
But instead, Midoriya wrapped his hands with his own, quietly asking, “Is it alright? I can help you clean out the wounds.”
Shouto nodded, too terrified to scare away this moment of something — so afraid that if he would speak, then Midoriya would simply walk away, disappear into the night to never come back.
“Do you have supplies in your bathroom?” Shouto shook his head in a way that would’ve probably been missed if not for Midoriya standing so close. “Okay, we can go to my room if it’s alright with you.”
I’ll do anything you tell me to. Shouto just nodded.
Midoriya’s room was nice. It looked cosy and lived-in, had a nice bed with big warm blankets, and was decorated with a garland that had small stars as lights; unlike his own, which was made to replicate the average Japanese bedroom — it made the place look bare, leaving little in regards to personal touches to add.
While Shouto waited, developing feelings of guilt for staining the fuzzy carpet with blood, Midoriya rummaged through the cabinets in his bathroom. He was surprisingly well-equipped to handle different types of injuries, which made Shouto worry. That’s way beyond what an average person has in their home first-aid kit.
“Why do you have so many medical supplies?” Shouto couldn’t help but ask, biting into his tongue right after. It wasn’t polite to question someone who offered you help.
Midoriya just chuckled. “I guess you can already tell that I can be awfully clumsy,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “and that I tend to get myself in unnecessary danger on the daily.” This managed to make Shouto’s lips curl into a smile. “But I also feel safer when I know that I’m prepared. My mum taught me a lot from her experience as a nurse, so I’m quite qualified to take care of the smaller injuries.”
Shouto nodded, but his eyes were already following the precise movements of Midoriya’s hands — as if he had done this thousands of times before. He used tweezers to get out the remaining shards of glass in his fingers, then used a wet piece of cloth to clean out the cuts, which weren’t that deep. Then Midoriya simply put some plasters around his fingers, which were — unsurprisingly — with All Might on them. It made Shouto let out a small chuckle.
“Hey!” Midoriya huffed in protest. “It’s not that funny.”
“Maybe.”
“Huh!”
Midoriya tapped his thigh, asking Shouto for permission to better examine his leg. Though Shouto wasn’t very willing to do so — it meant staining the sheets as well; however, Midoriya insisted, gently pulling the foot up.
“This one is fine, just some dried up blood.” The comment made Shouto sigh in relief. But when he was inspecting his second foot, Midoriya’s expression turned grim. “There’s a shard here, and a big one at that,” he said, looking at Shouto with that concerned but serious face. “Todoroki-kun, how did you just walk with it stuck in there?”
Shouto didn’t really have an answer except shrugging. Somehow the realisation of his own stupidity in front of Midoriya made him feel ashamed, averting his gaze.
“Alright. There’s no need to worry.”
His friend carried on, but not before giving him a gentle pat on the hand and smiling. It proved more difficult to remove the shard than Shouto expected.
Firstly, Midoriya wiped away the blood with a fresh cloth, making sure that the injury wasn’t too deep. Then he took the already cleaned-off tweezers and gripped his leg tightly just above the ankle. “It will hurt,” Midoriya whispered, sadness lacing his voice. “Sorry.” It’s not your fault. It’s all me...
Carefully, he inserted one of the tips under the shard, which provoked a hiss of pain. However, instead of stopping to reassure Shouto, Midoriya made a confident pull. As soon as the piece left his body, hot blood started to seep from the torn tissue once again.
The abruptness of the action made Shouto freeze in surprise, despite the painful pulsing in his foot. In the meantime, Midoriya was quick to apply a layer of gauze to soak up the blood. It wasn’t long before the gushing stopped, and there was a chance to properly sterilise the wound and apply a proper bandage.
When Midoriya let go of his foot, gently placing it on his bed, Shouto just continued to stare into nothingness, as if nothing had changed in that moment.
“I’ll go clean up the materials,” he said, walking into his bathroom. Through the open door, Shouto could see everything Midoriya was doing. At first he threw away the used-up gauze and medical gloves, and the mirror shard–
“Wait!” Shouto shouted before stumbling out of bed. Although now, when the haze of his dream had worn off, he failed to control his balance, and the pain in his foot made itself known. It was why he fell on that soft carpet on the floor. The shame from his outburst was eating away at him, but Shouto had to take it back. He had to fix it. “Please, give it back...”
“What are you–”
Midoriya’s eyes widened in realisation as Shouto turned his face to the ground. Why can’t I ever do anything right...?
“Oh,” he mouthed, going back to the rubbish bin. After a moment of rummaging there, the mirror shard was taken out, but Midoriya didn’t give it back immediately. Just like all the other things, he put it inside his basin and washed it with care and attention he gave every object in his hands. Why...? Why do you care so much...
He put the shard on his desk, quietly walking up to where Shouto was lying. There were warning bells going off inside his head, but he didn’t dare move. It wasn’t right.
Without another word, Midoriya sat down next to him on the wooden floor and put his hand on top of Shouto’s. Watching as he didn’t pull away, Izuku slowly intertwined their fingers. He squeezed his hand, allowing the heat of his palm to seep into Shouto’s own.
The gesture, so warm and reassuring, but there was no reason for him to be on the receiving end of it. I didn’t deserve it. Midoriya looked at him with those kind eyes of his, gently waiting for him. I couldn’t deserve this. It’s– it isn’t right.
“Izuku, I–”
Shit.
Shouto tried to untangle their fingers, run, get away as far as possible, but he only managed to sit up before tears started welling up in the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry– so sorry, please–”
But Izuku didn’t push him away. Why, why, why–
“Shouto,” he breathed out softly — oh, so softly, as if that name meant something so dear to him, which it couldn’t. “Please,” Izuku whispered into the air, “stay.”
And Shouto didn’t dare move.
“What is it?” Midoriya spoke with a gentle voice, squeezing his palm in reassurance. “You know that you can tell me if there’s anything bothering you,” he pleaded, and it echoed with pain somewhere in the depths of Shouto’s chest. “No,” Izuku’s pupils dilated. “Was it–” he swallowed nervously. “Was it something I’ve done...?”
No, no, no–
“No–” Shouto protested. “No, you’ve done nothing wrong,” he spoke through tears. “It’s just... me...”
“Shouto?” He faced away. “Please tell me what’s wrong,” Izuku reassured him. “I want to help.”
“I-I’m sorry.” The words felt syrupy, sticking to the walls of his throat, constricting his breathing. “I broke it...”
“What do–”
“The mirror you gifted me. I broke it.”
The revelation made Izuku blink, as something indistinguishable flickered in his eyes. “You moron,” he breathed out, bumping their foreheads together. What. “I’ll get a thousand more mirrors for you.”
“But it was a gift from you. I should–”
“Who cares.” Izuku pulled the sobbing mess that was Shouto into a tight embrace. “I’m more worried about you than some piece of cheap glass.”
How can you be so kind? I envy you, but I also love it. I love you so much, don’t I?
“You shouldn’t be,” he said defeatedly. Although these words were truly a dream come true, Shouto had no right to accept them — he wasn’t deserving of it.
Izuku grumbled something before clearing his voice. “I think that’s up for me to decide.” His fingers slipped under Shouto’s t-shirt, traced up from his lower back, along the shoulder blades, drawing various shapes in soothing motions. The action made Shouto shudder all over again, but from a different emotion entirely. “I care about you. I can’t imagine simply watching you suffer in silence, distancing yourself away from everyone who wants to help,” Izuku swallowed, as his voice was getting more strained the more he spoke. “I want to help you, Shouto. So please,” Izuku begged him, silently bringing his body closer, “let me love you.”
Shouto’s breath hitched. He can’t be serious. But instead of laughing it off or taking his words back in a hurry, Izuku kept still, holding him and patiently waiting for the answer. And Shouto? He would be a liar if he said that it meant nothing to him, because it meant the world to him, but it wasn’t right. How could he just take these tender feelings and live by another lie close to his heart?
“I– I can’t...” Shouto physically felt how Izuku’s heart rate went from loudly booming to in anticipation to something sad — it was even more evident by the way his mouth morphed into a thin line.
“It’s... alright,” Izuku had to force the words out, but he failed to hide how much it hurt him.
“Izuku,” Shouto emphasised, looking up into the watery emerald pools of emotion, “I’m broken. I can’t love you.” He sucked in a breath despite the tears threatening to spill right at that very moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone. This... love everyone always talks about — I don’t understand it. I don’t think I can be that person for you. I want to, but I can’t. So please find someone who could be the one for you.”
The silence was loud in the air, but it was much louder in Shouto’s head. Sorry, I’m so unlovable. Pushing away from Izuku’s chest, he realised that he couldn’t. Not because of the pain in his legs, but from the warm, scarred arms still cradling him close. “And I don’t care.” The words punched out all the air from Shouto’s lungs, leaving him speechless. “You said that you wanted to, then you can.”
“You don’t–”
“Yes. I don’t understand what you mean or how you feel,” Izuku whispered softly, “but I know that I don’t care about it. As long as I’ll be by your side, I’ll be more than happy.” He pulled away to take Shouto’s face in his hands and look him straight in the eyes. “I have enough love for the both of us, if only,” he swallowed thickly, “you’ll let me.”
Shouto’s body shuddered in Izuku’s arms. How can I be that lucky...? Finally allowing all the pent-up emotions out: the tears, the rage, the pain, the love — he fell into the open chest of the other, craving the closeness of another person.
Love. Is it even love?
Shouto had no idea, but right now he was ready to let that burning thought slip into the back of his mind and bask in Izuku’s warmth, his love. He felt afraid to admit it, but Shouto wanted this fleeting moment to last forever. It was selfish, he knew, but he couldn’t help the hunger that was satisfied with the touch; he longed for it for so long.
For once, Shouto felt whole, and was it even his fault for wanting it all to himself? Even if for a moment.
Maybe I’m broken, maybe I can’t really love you, but... Shouto buried himself deeper in Izuku’s arms. If that’s what makes you happy, then I can at least pretend to love you.
The first thing in the morning Shouto noticed was the absence of the warm body right next to him. Blinking away the haziness from his dreamless sleep, he looked around Izuku’s room, looking for the person in question, but he was nowhere to be seen.
All kinds of thoughts were going through Shouto’s head, making him restless. He got out of the warm bed, where he could still catch vestiges of the ozone scent — it always struck him as odd, but Shouto learnt to love that detail about Izuku. Maybe it stems from the fact that his quirk has electricity properties?
Shouto was about to go down to the main area, but then the memories of yesterday started flooding his mind. He rushed to his dorm to find it... cleaned and the bed made. Though the broken mirror was left lying on the nightstand. There was also a sticky note right beside it with the final shard placed on top of it.
There was no doubt whose handwriting was on the paper, but it only proved to make him more nervous to read the note. What if I messed up? All of a sudden, Shouto started hyperventilating. Izuku would’ve said something in that case, right? He inhaled sharply to try and calm down. Izuku isn’t like that. He’s not someone to run away from his feelings. Unlike me.
With an exhale, Shouto picked up the note.
‘Morning, Shouto!
Sorry that I’ve left without telling you, but I’ll make it up to you!
Anyway, you must be really hungry. I made some soba today, so feel free to enjoy it. No, I don’t mind sharing it with you.
Also, something you mentioned yesterday got me really worried–’
Shouto’s breathing started picking up again. Stop it. Just read the damn paper.
‘Also, something you mentioned yesterday got me really worried, so I’ve decided to do some research, and I’ve found something really interesting. You can check these articles if you’re interested, of course.
You aren’t broken.
I’ll be back somewhere at noon; see you then!’
“Huh, articles?” Shouto mused for some time before his curiosity won over.
He took out his phone. There was something so strangely alluring about the words, but Shouto had no idea what either of them meant. ‘Aromantic’ and ‘Asexual’, Shouto didn’t know much, but he had all the time in the world to figure it out. Maybe one day he’d come to terms with it, but there was no reason to rush things. Right now he was more than happy.
After taking a long-needed shower and a change of clothes, Shouto could finally go down to the kitchen to get some breakfast. The promised soba was left on the stove; it was cold now — just like he liked it.
“Morning!” Shouto felt goosebumps covering his back at the warm touch. Because of how suddenly the arms reached out to him, it made Shouto freeze midbite. Noticing the unease in his expression, Izuku was quick to pull away. “Sorry, I should’ve asked–”
“No!” Shouto called out, grabbing Izuku’s hand. “It’s fine,” he searched for the right words to convey that it truly didn’t bother him, “you just surprised me. That’s all.”
“Oh,” Izuku uttered before nodding. “Okay,” he smiled. “Can I... hug you?”
The question made Shouto embarrassed for no apparent reason. Get a hold of yourself. He muttered something noncommittal but agreed.
The next thing he knew was that Izuku had pulled out a chair for himself and was now sitting with his head on Shouto’s shoulder, chest pressed to his back, which he didn’t complain about — it was nice — but at the same time it was something new and frightening.
Swallowing the last of the noodles, Shouto turned his gaze to study Izuku’s peaceful expression. His fingers interlocked somewhere in the area of Shouto’s stomach, which made him look... cute.
It caused him to want to do something... stupid. Shouto reached out with his right hand in the direction of Izuku’s head, which made the other stir from his drowsy state. When his eyes caught sight of Shouto’s hand stopped midair, he chuckled and went back to dozing off on the crook of his neck. Light blush spread across his face. His palm rested on top of Izuku’s curls, burrowing fingers in the soft hair. Shouto gave it a gentle ruffle, which made the other press closer.
“Shouto?” Izuku asked, to which he hummed. “It’s your birthday today.”
His hand froze momentarily before he went back to massaging Izuku’s scalp. “It is,” Shouto replied shortly. “I don’t usually celebrate it...”
The response made Izuku blink. “You don’t?”
“No.”
“Any particular reason?”
There was nothing strange about the question, but it still made Shouto panic. He knew that he was in no danger; however, his mind kept feeding him all of the worst possible outcomes. It’s fine. Izuku has no bad intentions. With a shaky sigh, Shouto replied, “This,” he pointed at the edge of his face scar, “happened right before it...”
“Okay,” Izuku hummed softly, rolling over his head. His curls brushed against the scarred cheek, sending Shouto’s heart tumbling — he was nervous; Izuku spoke up again, “Do you want to go to an oceanarium?”
“...an oceanarium?”
He replied with something sounding like a ‘yeah’. Tightening his hold around Shouto’s stomach, Izuku yawned tiredly. “I wanted to do something special to cheer you up,” an anxious smile stretched across his face, “only if you want to.”
For several minutes, Shouto digested the words. Should I? He bit down on his lip, thinking over how to answer. Do I want to?
“Hey,” Izuku nudged him, “don’t stress yourself out. It’s fine.”
“I... don’t know...” Shouto said quietly. “I think– I want to give it a try.”
Izuku smiled, not as brightly as before, but a little more dimly — a small gesture reserved just for Shouto. “Great. Some time later?” Shouto nodded in agreement, slowly relaxing into the other’s arms. It will be just fine.
It mesmerised Shouto. The blues and the greys of the place had his head spinning slightly, but his heart was truly enjoying the time there. His eyes wandered from one sea creature to another, trying to commemorate every detail to his memory: the whale sharks, the penguins, even some stingrays — they were so alluring, inviting him to join them in their free reign of the water, to float together with them.
Albeit they might not know that they aren’t really free. They spend their lives in the well-maintained space of the aquariums to never know the taste of true freedom, and Shouto envies them. Their situations are so similar, as they are different. While they get to live their lives happily, he is forced to become something that he never asked to be.
Near the glass barrier, a small koi fish was swimming, never quite distancing itself from the wide protective layer. It caught Shouto’s attention, making him follow the whimsical movements of the creature.
He caught its eye studying him with just as much intensity as his own were. There was something in that small eye that called out to Shouto. He stood next to the glass, staring at the koi in an attempt to discern something that was not visible to everyone else.
The conclusion was simple: sadness. The koi opened its mouth, and a few bubbles escaped through it. In their reflection, Shouto saw Izuku — smiling away, observing everything with wide, curious eyes.
Then he turned around to find another koi fish on the opposite side of the aquarium. It was just as close to the protective barrier, floating there with an emotion so distant yet so familiar to Shouto — longing. There was the space of air and glass between them — an obstacle impossible to overcome, yet they stayed there, wishing to reunite one day.
Shouto’s hand reached out to Izuku’s fingers — cold — surprising the other. He let the fingers intertwine, using his quirk to spread some warmth. The look of utter bliss, followed by a full-body shiver was certainly worth the effort.
Izuku looked up at him with his emerald eyes, in which Shouto could get lost for eternity. The fingers of his free hand caressed Shouto’s cheek, sending shivers down his spine. “Can I?” he asked breathless as Shouto watched a cloud of steam escape his mouth.
He leaned down slightly, which was all the invitation the other needed.
When Izuku leaned forward, pressing his lips to Shouto’s, a firestorm of sparks ignited in his chest. Soft. His brain supplied as he allowed his hands to roam to Izuku’s back, pulling him closer to his chest. Shouto let one of his hands move up, burrowing in the other’s curls. They breathed each other in, cradling this moment of pure emotion.
Parting to catch their breath, Shouto watched the way Izuku’s cheeks reddened, puffing out streams of white air, but only for a short while before their lips covered each other again. He could feel the rapid beat of Izuku’s heart right against his own, the calming presence of which reassured Shouto of how real, how right it was.
Surreal. Was the word to describe the feelings, sensations running through his body, warming up every bit of it with something he’s never known before. He pulled away to look into Izuku’s eyes, to find the softest of smiles adorning his blushing face. Could this be love? Shouto smiled right back at him, resting his head on the other’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of Izuku’s shampoo. Ozone.
“Was it... good?” whispered Izuku, still out of breath. The question made Shouto chuckle. Good? It wasn’t good.
“It was just right,” he murmured into the other’s ear, pressing his body closer into the hug, allowing the warmth of his body to flow through the embrace. Just right.
“Alright,” Izuku breathed out. “Good.”
Shouto hummed in response, enjoying the closeness of their bodies. It was nice to have a chance like that — to simply stop and soak in the warmth of someone else. Someone to stay.
Soon, too soon, he felt a light tug at his hand as Izuku dragged him further down the corridor, keeping their hands linked. Taking a last glance at the two separated souls, Shouto smiled. Maybe we are not so different after all.
“Do you mind if we visit one more place?”
They’ve been walking in the park for the last half an hour or so; the sun had already set, but it was nothing unusual for this time of the year. Shouto tilted his head at Izuku’s question.
“Alright.” He walked away from the food stand, holding a package filled with takoyaki. Approaching Izuku, Shouto offered him one ball on the toothpick, which was happily bitten into.
Though the regret was immediate on Izuku’s face, as the hot filling burnt the insides of his mouth, making him hiss. Attempting to cool off his tongue, Izuku stuck it out into the crisp winter air — the action not missed by Shouto, whose lips stretched into a smile, as he bit down on another takoyaki.
The amused expression was quite quickly picked up by Izuku. “Hey! It’s not my fault that your quirk lets you cheat your way through eating food right out of the boiling oil!”
Shouto simply continued to chew the takoyaki when he had an idea. Swallowing the rest of the ball, he picked one more and blew on it. Shouto then proceeded to offer it to the astonished Izuku, “Try it now.”
Without giving it too much thought, he did as asked. The gasp that left his mouth made things to Shouto’s stomach far different from consuming the delicious pastries. “What did you do with it?” Izuku asked, happily chewing on the takoyaki of appropriate temperature.
“I used my quirk on it.”
“Oh, yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. Adorable. “That makes sense.”
Shouto offered him one more dough ball; Izuku was more than happy to oblige.
“Where are we going exactly?”
“You’ll see,” Izuku smiled, taking his hand. “We’re almost there.”
“If that’s what you say,” Shouto let himself be dragged into the crowded street.
There were suddenly no thoughts running through his head, as Shouto realised where Izuku had brought him. “Why–”
“Please, don’t panic!” Izuku was right in front of him, no longer holding his hand. He bowed somewhat awkwardly. “I know that you broke that mirror–”
No, no, no–
Shouto couldn’t hear anything else that was directed at him over the shreeling bells of panic in his head. I knew it was stupid. His heart rate was picking up, while breathing was becoming constricted. I’m sorry. So sorry–
“Izu– Midoriya, I apologise. I should have been more careful.” Shouto inhaled sharply, feeling the water gathering in the corners of his eyes. “It’s alright, if you want to get–”
“Shouto!”
He was promptly shut up by Izuku slamming his palms down on both of his cheeks. His senses were coming back to him, and slowly he was able to understand what was spoken to him this time.
“I am not mad,” Izuku repeated, making sure every word had been heard clearly and loudly. “It’s just that–” he stopped to take a breath. “I know that it was very important to you. That’s why we’re here. I want to get you a gift.”
“Oh...” Now it made Shouto feel bad — embarrassed even. “I didn’t mean to make things so hard for you.”
“There is nothing wrong with panicking,” Izuku said, giving Shouto a squeeze on his hand. When did his hand return to mine? “Shall we?” Shouto nodded back at him.
With tension coursing through his body, Shouto walked through the store entrance, following close behind Izuku. He felt uneasy, but there was nothing to worry about — he just had to get it over with.
“You know,” Izuku started, “so many of the displays have changed since last time I’ve been here.” He hummed, enthusiasm radiating off of him in palpable waves. “However,” he made a sharp turn, “I think I’ve found something so you in here that I just had to get it as a present for you.”
So me? I wonder what it is you see in me.
Soon enough, they were approached by one of the sales representatives, and Izuku got recognised almost immediately. Shouto simply took pleasure in watching the short exchange when they were given a lovely deep blue package with wrapping that looked like velvet.
Shouto found it hard to tear his gaze away from the small box, which was neatly placed in Izuku’s hands, waiting for him to take it.
“Come on,” he breathed out excitedly, “open it.”
Shouto did just that as soon as they left the store — “Noctu vigilans” was certainly an interesting name choice. Occupying an empty bench in the nearby park, he started unwrapping the package with shaky hands. His eyes were glued to the way velvet moved out of his way, giving him a chance to see the ‘fragile, handle with care’ sticker on the inside of the box.
The additional wrapping paper was easily pulled away, revealing the small... Statue? Shouto picked it up to examine: it was a small glass figurine of a cat with some sort of liquid inside. He gave it a light shake to check if anything would change. Much to his surprise, the small snowflake-like particles rose from the bottom of the flask, dancing in the familiar blizzard patterns. The sight took Shouto’s breath away as he watched the particles move in every new direction.
“Do you like it?” Izuku whispered.
Shouto smiled, tearing his gaze away from the statue. “It’s wonderful.”
“I’m glad,” he sighed with happiness flooding back into his features. “This is a stormglass — an old device made to predict weather. It probably isn’t the most accurate way to do so, that’s why many use it as a decor item, but,” Izuku blushed slightly, or was it the cool winter air, “it reminded me of you.”
“Thank you.” Carefully, Shouto placed the cat figurine back into the velvet box. “It’s the best birthday present someone gave me,” he whispered, wrapping the other in a tight embrace.
Shouto’s eyes snapped open as cold sweat was streaming down his back. No. No, it’s alright; it was just a bad dream. His throat constricted — it was hard to breathe. He could feel tears building up in his eyes and the cold emanating from his left palm. Please, go away, just go away...
He tried to wipe away the tears, but failing so much couldn’t result in success. Shouto sucked in a breath, making his body shudder from the cool air. In a spur of the moment, he forgot to check whether he actually turned his quirk off. Thankfully, he did.
Shouto’s eyes wandered to the nightstand near his bed, but it felt wrong, off, as if something important was missing from there. The answer came to him fast enough. No. No, I remember leaving it there– Where is it?
While his mind was occupied with rejecting the memories woken up by the awful dream and looking for explanations for the missing gift, his heart rate picked up once again, driving the bad thoughts and worries home.
No, it couldn’t have been–
His heart ached as the realisation was beginning to sink in. It was just another sick joke conjured up by his resting mind.
Why– it wasn’t just a dream. No, no–
And tears poured down Shouto’s face, making it hard to see, but he didn’t care.
It was real– It had to be.
His sobbing intensified with the cold, covering his palms.
But it’s gone. It couldn’t have disappeared without a trace. It was just a twisted dream–
“Shouto?”
Just like that, his heart skipped a beat, but he was too afraid to turn around — too much of a coward to look at something that might be just an extension of this nightmare. Please, please... just go away.
Warm hands snaked under his armpits, pulling him into the arms of someone who shouldn’t have been there. “Hey, it’s fine. I’m right here,” Izuku’s voice crooned into his ear. “I’m right here.”
And Shouto? He didn’t believe it for a second; it would crumble to dust: the warmth, the hands, the voice — the moment he turned around. Oh, but the temptation — the temptation of it all was too good to turn it down, too promising of the warm hands ready to meet him halfway.
So he did.
His vision, still blurred from all the crying, was fooled by the warm greens dancing in wild shapes so reminiscent of Izuku’s curls. Trying to blink away the hazy mirage, Shouto’s gaze travelled further away into the room, where moonlight shone through the opened curtains.
It can’t be– His heart stuttered, because there it was standing as if nothing was out of the ordinary, glimmering in the reflected cold light. The small statue of a cat with snowflakes.
Shouto looked back at the worried expression on Izuku’s face and buried his nose in the other’s chest, chanting to himself, “You’re real. It wasn’t all a dream...”
Izuku pressed him closer, humming an unassuming melody to lull the fears and anxieties stirring in Shouto’s heart, and he was so, so grateful.
“Does this happen often...?” he asked tentatively, but Shouto didn’t have an answer for that. Instead, he buried himself deeper into Izuku’s arms — to escape the need to speak, to tell him all about the night terrors, tormenting him when the sun set down. He would, just not today. “Alright,” Izuku smiled softly, “do you want to go back to sleep?”
Shouto hummed quietly, and Izuku complied, pulling them both down into the messy blankets; he hugged Shouto close, not letting go, as his fingers caressed his bare back under the thin fabric of the t-shirt. Thank you. His own hold tightened around Izuku, fearing that otherwise he might perish when morning came. “I– I think,” Shouto whispered into Izuku’s chest, “I love you.”
Izuku pressed his forehead to the top of Shouto’s head, breathing him in, “I love you too.”
And Shouto? He had no idea what would happen when they were inevitably woken up by the rays of the rising sun flooding their shared bed; but right now, in this moment of quiet and calm, he was content, maybe, for the first time in his life.