Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Shouto Todoroki was 10 years old his mom, Rei, filed for divorce. At some point during the hearing it was determined that she would need to stay at a mental hospital until “fit” for partial guardianship.

Shouto, Natsuo, and Fuyumi were sentenced to live with their father, Enji. Touya was the only one that got away, being 18 at the time.

The house was a nightmare and Enji the tormentor.

When Shouto was 15 his mom was released from the hospital. She appealed for full guardianship and won. Sadly Shouto was the only minor by then, his other three siblings had been free for years. 

Natsuo had left for med school and lived on campus. Fuyumi owned her own apartment, taught pre-k and visited Enji often.

Shouto moved in with his mom, and surprisingly so did Touya.

It was an adjustment, but a welcomed one. There was no shouting, no silent stare-offs, no double meaning words intended to hurt– it was generally peaceful.

But that didn’t mean Shouto was at peace, in fact he was far from it. It seemed no matter what environment he was in he was uncomfortable with being perceived. When he looked in the mirror, he saw his dad’s eyes and hair. Shouto hated it. Enji was rough, mean spirited and stern, sharp, broad shouldered and strong. Shouto didn’t want to be anything like that. 

In fact he didn’t want to look like Natsuo either. But that part didn’t quite make sense. Shouto had no trauma from Natsuo, yet he found compliments and comparisons of their builds uncomfortable. He didn’t like being called “handsome young man.” He didn’t want to be handsome at all.

But… he didn’t know what he did want.

All he knew was that he didn’t want that. For now not being perceived would have to be good enough. But that wasn’t happening. His classmates were nice, and he had managed to make quite a few friends. But they called him “handsome,” and “charming” too much for his liking. 

He was most at peace when spending time with the girls in his class. They were sweet and kind and well… Pretty. He liked joining them on ‘girls nights.’ He liked watching Momo braid Tsu’s hair. He liked looking at magazines of pretty hairstyles and makeup while he let a face mask dry. He liked watching them paint their nails and was pleased when Momo applied nail oil and filed and shaped his nails. For the next week he couldn’t stop feeling the softness of his face and staring at the subtle change in his nails. 

He made sure to come back and ask for it again.

Some of the boys however teased him about being “a player.” That he must like being around pretty women.

Which he did. The company of prettiness was… nice. It felt comforting to go shopping with Mina and Toru. He liked it when they asked for his input. He liked seeing the sparkly blue skirt get worn by someone so pretty.

But the way the guys said it… it gave it another meaning.

He just liked pretty things. Was that so wrong?

If he was not born to be pretty, then he’d rather look like his brother: Touya– or Dabi as he went by nowadays.

Dabi was a very different type of man. His hair was dyed black, and he exclusively wore black clothes with big statements. Shouto believed his brother used the word “goth” once or twice. He wore tight clothes that made his tall frame look lanky, jewelry and chains that bordered between scary and pretty, and even fishnets under his very torn black jeans. 

What Shouto liked best was how Dabi wore the clothes: with endless confidence. 

It was different, that was for sure. Shouto wasn’t all that sure what Dabi had gone through when he moved out, but it was definitely enough for him to stray very far from the idea of masculinity and femininity that Enji crammed into all their skulls.

For whatever reason, envy and disgust followed Shouto everywhere. He thought about asking the girls what he should do, but there was no way they could help. They weren’t guys and Shouto most certainly was. He couldn’t ask his male classmates, they surely wouldn’t understand. They wore long gym shorts, baggy t-shirts and Kirishima even wore crocs. It… was not what he was looking for. 

Then he thought of Dabi. Now Shouto wasn’t close to Dabi, but he hardly saw his other siblings anymore. Dabi clearly had some knowledge on fashion and Shouto could trust his brother would at least be direct with him, if not a little sarcastic.

“Dabi.” Shouto spoke into the silent living room. He stood awkwardly by the couch ready to leave at any moment, but keeping his eyes on his brother who took up all the couch as he laid there glued to his phone.

“Hm?” He hummed. 

It barely showed he was listening, but it was enough for Shouto. He didn’t know what he’d do if Dabi’s attention was directed at him. Shouto blurted out, “You dye your hair.” It wasn’t the best starter but it got them on topic fast. And Shouto needed this conversation over quickly. He didn’t want to talk about this.

“So?” Dabi raised a brow, still not looking up.

Shouto silently wondered if Dabi was playing a mobile game.

“Why?” 

Dabi’s hand tightened on his phone and his voice was a bit gruff as he replied, “Because I like it.” 

This was not going well. Shouto knew his brother was confident, but at times he would get snippy if something was taken the wrong way about his appearance. As much as Shouto hated to, he needed to direct the attention to himself if he wanted to make any progress. “I don’t like my hair.”

Given Dabi's frozen demeanor, either the level of the supposed game ended, or he was taken by shock, Shouto wasn’t sure. Seconds ticked by before Dabi looked up; when he did, the sight was intense. “You wanna change your hair?”

Not trusting his words, Shouto nodded.

Dabi sat up making room for Shouto. “You want it cut, dyed, shaved?”

Still standing, Shouto shook his head. He didn’t like this conversation. It felt far too intense for what should be a simple exchange about hair. It should be as easy as the girls debating between a crown braid, space buns or a french braid. Why was it so hard?

“You want it styled? I can style hair. Spiked, that’s what I do with mine, I can do slicked back, heck I can do a mohawk if that’s what your heart wants.” Dabi laughed at his own words.

Shouto felt sick.

With more care than Shouto knew Dabi was capable of, he patted the seat next to him and spoke. “Hey, why don’t you sit? You look a little faint.”

Reluctantly, Shouto sat.

“You ever played Bejeweled ? You connect shiny crap. It’s fun.” Dabi pulled up his phone again, this time displaying his screen, as he indeed paired different colored and shaped gems together causing them to disappear and collect points. The two stared at the screen together for a few minutes before Dabi offered the phone. “You wanna try?”

Shouto reached for the phone. He was beyond confused with the route this conversation had taken, but he found himself grateful for it nonetheless. Six minutes went by in relative silence, Dabi giving advice every now and then when Shouto got stuck. Eventually Shouto worked up the nerve to speak again. “I want to grow it out.”

“Sounds nice. Any style you hope for once it’s longer? Or an ideal length, like a bob, mullet, or general shoulder length– that sorta thing?”

Shouto let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I like mom’s hair.” He wasn’t quite ready to say ‘I want hair like mom’ but this still, in context, implied the right meaning. It also left him a window of deniability if things went south.

But it was true. His moms hair was silky smooth and loose at her shoulders. She had bangs like him, something he was grateful for. It was flowy in the wind and sparkled like snow in the sun. If his hair was anything like that, perhaps he wouldn’t have such a hard time looking the way he does. Maybe the envy would die down a bit.

Dabi’s voice broke his concentration. “Mom’s hair is very nice.”

Shouto connected three magenta triangles; it was a nice color. “Yeah.” 

“Well you can definitely grow it out, but that will take a while. In the meantime you wanna dye it like mom’s? Or maybe get some conditioner? Hate to break it to you, but the stuff they sell men is crap. You’ll have less frizz and more shine if you buy the stuff marketed towards women.”

“I can do that?” Shouto let his heart spark with just a bit of hope. Maybe he wouldn't be stuck like this.

“Which part? Wait, doesn’t matter. You can do whatever you want with your hair within the laws of chemistry and physics. Society doesn’t matter. Do what makes you happy.”

Shouto stilled as he considered those words, he looked up from the gems to stare at Dabi looking for any trace of doubt or humor. Those words meant the world to him. He hoped they were true. “I think both would be nice… Soap and Dye.”

Dabi smiled wide. It was definitely a face Shouto hadn’t seen on him before. It wasn’t smug, malicious, or even the rare soft ones. His smile was excited, his with eyes alight with thrill. “Awesome! Do you wanna go now?”

Shouto’s stomach dropped. “Now?”

“Yeah, I’m free. You’re free. Why not now?”

“What about mom?”

Dabi paused, confusion lacing his voice. “You want her to join?”

Shouto’s words were stilted, he felt far too robotic. “No. I just don’t know if she would approve.”

The familiar look of amusement colored Dabi’s words. “Oh please! Of course she’ll approve, she’s not Enji.”

Shouto couldn't help but wince at the name. “Still.” Shouto knew he was being a coward, but Dabi rose to the challenge.

“Fine, you want me to text her?”

“You can.”

“Cool. Now give me my phone back!”

Shouto stared soullessly as Dabi texted their mom. 

Dabi: Shouto wants to dye his hair. That cool with you?”

Mom: Oh course! Do whatever color makes him happiest. He needs more joy in his life.”

Dabi was smug when he turned back to Shouto. “See?”

“You were right.” 

Dabi cackled in delight, “I’m always right! Comes with being the eldest! Now, we going or not?”

As Shouto gaped at the strange whimsy that had overcome Dabi, he felt himself smile a little in return. “Let’s go.” 

“Aye aye captain!”

The ride was consumed by the loudest, most aggressive music Shouto had ever heard. Something about bomb cherries, the repeated phrase “they them”-- which Shouto had no clue what group “they” was and why the singer was so angry-- neutral chaos gender, and probably the weirdest one was just screaming “America” over and over again. It was truly the most confusing car ride ever.

When the car pulled up Shouto was equal parts grateful the music was done, and terrified of what was coming. However the trip was a lot more anticlimactic than he expected, not that it stopped him from being keyed up the whole time.

They went to the soap section first. Shouto had no idea shampoo and conditioner came in so many scents and brands, not to mention each one promised something new. He honestly felt lost staring at endless phrases of 48 hour fizz protection, moisture boost, color care, damage repair, jojoba oil and vitamin E.

Thankfully Dabi narrowed it down to hydrating and shiny ones– whatever that meant. Now Shouto just had to pick a scent.

He never thought he would be given options like rose, coconut or vanilla. He had smelled like stupid wood and sage for years. What even was sage? A fabric? Whatever it was, it never smelled as nice as the candle aisles, or air fresheners, or anything sweet and pleasant.

He picked the rose one without a second thought. Flowers were nice. 

They were pretty.

When they got to the hair dye aisle, Dabi made quick work of picking out the bleach and toning shampoo. Meanwhile Shouto was frozen again.

He was staring at Manic Panic Cotton Candy Pink. There was no model on the packaging. Everywhere else, he saw woman after woman, all smiling and looking perfect. Shouto wasn’t like that. He knew he couldn’t be like that. But the simple promise of a cute color like pink was intriguing enough.

His hair was strawberry blonde. Pink wasn’t far off from that. In fact his mom’s hair was white, and Enji's was red, and one only got pink by mixing those two hues together. Dyeing his hair pink shouldn’t be a big deal, but somehow it was. There was something about pink that was… pretty. Simply that.

He thought of Mina’s hair. Hers was dyed pink too, not as vibrant as Manic Panic promoted, but it was darling and eye-catching all the same. Sometimes she made a gradient of light to hot pink microbraids. The girls and him always did a movie marathon while she braided. It took her an absurd amount of hours, but it was always worth it. She looked as pretty as the color.

It would be… nice to be pretty like that. 

And Dabi noticed. “I think pink suits you.”

Shouto stared back at him in shock. It was a simple sentence, no clauses or if’s or but’s. It was said with the calmness of a man who was not destroying Shouto’s entire world view.

They bought the pink dye.

Chapter Text

The pink hair was nice.

Actually that was an understatement, it was spectacular . It was thrilling and nerve-inducing, but rewarding and charming all the same. Mina was ecstatic they had matching hair color, and insisted on taking a photo together. When she snapped it, she proclaimed “so cute!” and hugged him with vigor. 

A few weeks had gone by and pink wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Shouto had already been due for a haircut the day they dyed it, and unsurprisingly without the haircut it grew slowly but surely. Nowadays it was about four inches in length– nothing to write home about, but it was already longer than Enji had ever allowed it.

He found with the added length, he needed to brush it more often, but enjoyed every minute of it. With the new shampoo and conditioner it was softer and almost fluffy, comforting like a fuzzy blanket. And perhaps if he wasn’t self conscious in public then he would have developed a habit of twirling his hair. But he refused to permit himself such mannerisms. Though, it was impossible to resist the soothing temptation forever. He often found himself fiddling the strands between his forefinger and thumb whilst drifting off to sleep.

One ‘girls night’, when the girls were talking about all things hair care, Ochako commented that his hair might be long enough to braid. It was startling to hear. He had never considered such a thing, but he found excitement bubble up at the thought of having long braids like the kind Tsu sometimes sported.

It didn’t take much before Mina had used an elastic band to finish off the thin braid she’d done. It was small and simple, but framed the side of his face nicely. 

He had never been so happy to look in the mirror.

But something still nagged at him.

He didn’t want to be dissatisfied. He never chose this perpetual envy. But something wasn’t right. There was something wrong with him. He should be grateful for his hair. He was. But the hair should be enough and it wasn’t.

It seemed like everywhere he looked there was someone cute, someone sparkly, someone pretty . And the envy just got worse.

Throughout his whole life he loved shiny things.

His mom used to wear jewelry when he was little. She’d wear dainty necklaces, and twinkling stud earrings– both very beautiful in their own right.

Her wedding ring did not match her usual look; it was gaudy with a big diamond and encrusted in tiny rubies. She never seemed to like it, but little Shouto definitely did. 

He was old enough to suffer the woes of the home, but too young to recognize the failed marriage and family. The ring was a painful reminder to Rei, but for Shouto it was simply the sparkliest thing he had ever seen. 

When his cries became incessant and there was no end in sight, he’d distract himself with his mother’s wedding ring. It was hypnotizing to see the light bend as he twisted and turned it. He found if he focused hard enough the numbness set in easier.

When the ring wasn’t in Rei’s jewelry box, she wasn’t mad or disappointed… just tired. Shouto would have to be responsible and return it when done, Rei couldn’t risk losing it and upsetting Enji so thoroughly. But nevertheless, Rei decided to lend it to him when the days were hard and the nights were long. 

In his teens, Shouto liked hanging chandeliers and his mom’s fine china. He liked the brightly lit makeup isles and Mina’s flashy nail polish collection. He liked Fuyumi’s snowglobes and Toru’s glittery sneakers. It was pretty when those things caught the light just right and made an ordinary object ethereal with sparkle.

Lately the shiny thing that caught Shouto’s eye was Dabi’s jewelry. Dabi didn’t dress extreme everyday, but it seemed he was never without some form of added jewelry. And when he did go all out, it was striking.

It was loud– both figuratively and literally. He had chains from his belt for a reason Shouto didn’t know. They would jingle and clink as Dabi walked, and Shouto found it odd if not charming. Dabi wore spiked chokers, fake pearl and cross necklaces, and so many chains Shouto wasn’t convinced it could be comfortable. Dabi wore studded leather wristbands, and had face piercings that looked frankly scary yet wonderfully dramatic to Shouto. Dabi added safety pins to his pants, bag and hats– for added shininess for Shouto was certain.

For anyone it would be eye catching, but for Shouto it lived in his mind rent free.

It wasn’t fair that everyone important in his life got their accessories, trinkets and charms, while he still looked so dreadfully dull.

He thought he had understood that sparkly things were for women; he had resigned himself to be forever condemned to a dull matte life. But then here Dabi was, being so extravagantly sparkly on the regular. If it was somehow true that men could wear jewelry and Enji’s words were a lie, then Shouto should get to be sparkly too, God damn it!

And when Dabi sat at the table for lunch, dressed in the gaudiest thing Shouto had seen yet, it reached a tipping point.

“When do I get to be sparkly?” Shouto snipped at Dabi. He was so tired of this increasing resentment that accompanied everything he loved.

Dabi, having already taken a bite of his sandwich, paused his chewing and blinked owlishly at his younger brother. He scoffed out, “What are you even talking about?”

Shouto was terse. “Everyone is sparkly, but me. Why not?”

Dabi was even more puzzled. “Do you want to be sparkly?”

Shouto was quiet for a long time. Was that what he wanted? Would achieving sparkliness make these feelings go away? “I do.”

“Ooookay???” Dabi set his sandwich down. “Do you want like, clothes with sequins? Glitter hair spray? Shiny gogo boots? You gotta be more specific.”

The hair spray sounded appealing, but Shouto didn’t let his mind stray too far. “I was thinking jewelry… I’m not sure though, if it will…” make the feeling go away “look nice.”

“Well I got a crap ton of shiny shit. You can try stuff on and see if you like it?”

This piqued Shouto’s interest. “You’d let me wear your jewelry?”

“I’ll let you borrow my jewelry. I want it back. Ideally, you’ll eventually go shopping for your own stuff.”

Shouto wasn’t sure if he could ever have jewelry of his own, but trying stuff on seemed like a good start. “Can we do it now?”

“Try stuff on, or shop? I’m good with either.”

“The first one.”

“Cool, let’s get going then!” Dabi stood up assuredly, bringing his paper plate and half eaten sandwich with him to his bedroom.

Shouto guessed that was his cue to follow.

Dabi’s room was… different , to say the least.

Everywhere there were posters saying things like “Heteronormativity is the Plague,” “Smash the Cis-Tem,” “Eat the Rich,” “Stonewall was a Riot,” and “Be Gay Do Crimes.” Half of it went over Shouto’s head, but he still found the themes of violence slightly concerning.

Various black clothing was strewn on the floor. On the nightstand was a half finished mug of coffee that said “TERF TEARS.” On his dresser was hap-hazardly thrown jewelry. And surprisingly in the corner was a vanity that Shouto was half-certain used to be in mom’s old room, before all her stuff got shoved into storage due to the divorce.

Dabi set his plate onto the vanity, joining the opened Monster Energy and a chaotic layout of makeup that Shouto didn’t know Dabi had. Nothing too out of the ordinary in terms of cosmetics. Shouto learned enough from ‘girls night’ to recognize mascara, eyeliner, concealer, and setting spray. 

What caught him by the most surprise was the lone black lipstick. He didn’t know lipstick came in such a bold color– or lack of. He had been so certain that men didn’t wear makeup– weren’t allowed. He remembered vividly how livid Enji had been when Fuyumi let Shouto borrow her lip gloss while playing dress up.

But with everything he knew about Dabi, from his rebellious attitude against all things standard, to the dramatic and stark way he displayed himself, it somehow made sense for these to be the things Dabi owned.

Dabi started rifling through the theatrical accessories on his dresser, picking one up every now and then and holding it up when he stared at Shouto. “Well I’m not really sure if you want the whole…” He paused for the right word. “ Aesthetic that I have, but I have plenty of shiny crap. Unless– Do you like macabre stuff?”

“Uh… I don’t believe so.”

Dabi huffed a laugh. “Y’know you have a funny way of talking– constantly flipping between formal and blunt– it’s great.” He smirked at his own words, looking through the pile again. “I got plastic pearls not the best obviously but makes a statement regardless? I also have chains without any charms or pendants, but they aren’t really dainty.” He started collecting various things that met his supposed standard and placing them on the less crowded vanity.  

Shouto watched his every move with deep interest, hanging on to every word carefully.

“Do I have any sort of crystal-ly gemstone stuff? Those are sparkly, right? Y’know I bet rose quarts would look great with your hair, too bad I don’t have any.” Dabi pursed his lips in concentration, scanning the dresser.

“Let’s see… I know I have onyx and black tourmaline but you probably don’t like black all that much.”

Shouto nodded in agreement.

Dabi hummed to himself searching again, adding anything worth consideration to the palm of his free hand. “I got moonstone and topaz from mom; you might like that, moonstone definitely seems your style.” He paused his mulling, holding up a new necklace. It had a small, slightly brown tinted, pink pendant on a black leather cord. Dabi simpered with satisfaction. “Perfect. Not rose quartz but close enough. Certainly sparkly so there’s that.”

He gathered the last of his options and set them down on the vanity, pulling out the stool and turning back to Shouto. “Wanna sit, or are you just gonna awkwardly stand in the middle of my room, not saying anything as I put necklaces on you?” It was teasing, but not an admonishment.

Shouto’s gait was stiff, and his legs unfeeling, as he treaded to the stool and sat.

One at a time Dabi secured the necklaces in place. He gave time for Shouto to adjust to the foreign weight and take in the reflection from the mirrors. He asked what Shouto thought of each piece, and received short hums and one word replies. Yet Dabi felt immensely proud at seeing the subtle changes to his siblings face– the small upturned smile and satisfied eyes.

He seemed to like the fake pearls a decent amount, but was probably too bulky for him considering his word or choice was “fine.” 

The moonstone sparked his interest quite a bit. It reminded him of his mom in every way. It was dainty and breathtaking on a thin silver necklace. It invoked memories of all the sweet and tender things she’d murmur to him when he cried. It made him feel a little more at peace.

He felt a tad bit of his self loathing lift off his tense shoulders as he gazed at it.

When he tried on the strawberry quartz he knew it was his favourite. It was cute and darling and complimented his hair well. He absorbed the face in front of him taking in all the pink, imagining having the braid that Mina once did framing his face.

The tightness in his heart felt lighter, and his breath came easier. It was easier to ignore his dissatisfaction and appreciate what was in front of him. It was nice. He looked nice.

“I can wear this?” Shouto tore his eyes away from the pendant’s reflection to look at Dabi. While Shouto’s heart had hope, he couldn’t help but be cautious. 

Dabi gave a full grin patting his sibling on the shoulder. “Sure thing, kid.”

Shouto smiled back, turning to the mirror again and fiddling with the necklace and feeling the cool and smooth surface of the quartz.

“Y’know this might actually do you some good.”

Shouto froze his ministrations. He knew he was short with Dabi earlier, but he had hoped he didn’t let too much of his envy show, or how much this necklace meant to him.

“Moonstone is said to help with self-discovery and growth. Strawberry quartz is for alleviating suppressed emotions and supposedly helps with various mood disorders– Which God knows none of us Todoroki’s are without.” Dabi smiled at Shouto’s face in the mirror. “Why don’t you keep them? The moonstone and quartz.”

Shouto furrowed his brow. “But– You said you wanted them back? That I need to get my own?”

Dabi merely rolled his eyes. “Whatever, I have no shortage of shiny stuff to wear. Besides… it suits you.”

Dabi really loved tearing Shouto’s world view apart didn’t he?

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Shouto’s stomach plummeted. He didn’t know why. He hadn’t lived with Enji for half a year, even when he did, Enji never knocked– it was more a clamorous pounding. 

“Come in!” Dabi called out.

Rei– not Enji– gingerly opened the door, not quite stepping in but peering over the side. “It was a slow day at work so I got to come home early. Did you two already eat lunch?”

Dabi picked up his paper plate and half eaten sandwich. “Not really, got distracted. Shouto, did you eat?”

Like a deer in the headlights, Shouto impassively shook his head. He hadn’t felt much like eating today– much too preoccupied with his brooding. Admittedly he was just going to wait until it got uncomfortable and eat then. 

Rei smiled at her youngest. “You want me to make you something, Sweetheart?”

“Um, sure.” For whatever reason he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. He tacked on the end, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Honey.” With that she waltzed away.

Shouto stayed frozen in place.

Dabi held out the moonstone necklace. “Here’s the other one.”

Shouto took it and stuffed it in his pocket. “Thanks.” A moment ago he was so grateful for it, now he felt as if it might burn a hole through his clothes.

Dabi patted his shoulder, before moving toward the door. “Come on.” 

Lunch went smoothly. Rei made cold soba as she talked about her day. 

Back before the divorce she had been a stay-at-home mom. Enji was well off and had supplied her with an allowance, but she had never possessed much financial freedom. She only had the job experience from her teens so her resume wasn’t impressive.

These days, she was thankfully adjusting to her new job swimmingly. She didn’t have to worry too much about income since Enji was sending hefty child support and Dabi helped out where he could. She was glad she got to choose a job she actually liked: receptionist.

She liked seeing new faces and was a natural with pleasantries and small talk. She got along well with her co-workers as well. Today a co-worker offered to cover the rest of her shift since it was such a slow day.

When Rei placed the bowl of soba in front of Shouto, she noticed his necklace. “Is that necklace new? It looks nice on you!”

Shouto's mind came to a halt. He had forgotten he was wearing it and was both alarmed and flattered that Rei had taken notice. “Dabi gave it to me.”

“That’s very nice of you, Deary.”

Dabi waved his hand dismissively. “The kid looked better in it anyway.”

Shouto smiled into his next bite of soba.

“Are you interested in more? You loved my jewelry when you were real little. Maybe you would want some of my old rings, bracelets, or earrings? Or wait– your ears aren’t pierced like Dabi’s.”

Shouto chewed slowly, soaking in his mom’s words. She was definitely encouraging, enthusiastic even. He’d never expected such a warm reception from one of his parents. He knew his mom was very different from Enji, yet it was oddly hard to separate the two in his mind. Still, it sounded too good to be true. “I can pierce my ears?”

“Of course, Honey. I’ll have to be there when you get pierced, and you’ll have to take care of them. The first studs have to stay in for 6 weeks or more. Gently wash them regularly, rinse thoroughly. No fiddling with them, especially with unwashed hands. It’s a lot of responsibility, but if that’s what makes you happy, then I am more than willing to help where I can.”

“I… I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

The earrings were a nice change.

But it was definitely a daunting experience. Anyone coming that close to Shouto with a needle was bound to make him nervous– nevermind that it was a permanent body modification that Enji would have surely lost his temper over.

But Enji wasn’t there.

Shouto’s mom was .

And if the world stayed kind, then Shouto would never have to see that man again.

And Shouto was beyond grateful that his mom was here with him. She helped him pick out a pair of stainless steel starter studs. They weren’t fancy, but they didn’t need to be. The goal was to achieve shininess, and the earrings did that job well.

Shopping for earrings afterward more than made up for the fright and brief pain. Even if it would be weeks before he could get to wear what they bought, it was still something to get excited over.

Shouto wanted something to help him feel cute– pretty.

Even without it stated, Rei definitely understood the assignment. She was pointing out and holding up a variety of earrings that were no doubt intended for 6 year old girls, but were cute nonetheless.

There weren’t many of what Shouto would call standard options. Growing up, he always saw his mom and sister wearing pieces with gems and crystals, simple yet sparkly. What was at the store was many pink and pastel options, smiley faces on cute animals, and everything that reminded him of watching Strawberry Shortcake from around the living room corner. 

There were some outliers. Some gaudy pieces with bold colors. Some giant earrings that he knew Mina could pull off. A few gothic and edgier ones there too– ones Shouto was sure Dabi would like. 

Shouto pointed out a specific pair to Rei. They resembled a skeleton hand holding a rose and Rei agreed it would be a great gift for Dabi, and swiftly added it to the cart. January was fast approaching and both Shouto’s and Dabi’s birthdays were soon.

In the end they left with the earrings for Dabi and a set containing daisy, bee, butterfly, and ladybug earrings, and fruit themed set of cherry, apple, strawberry, and watermelon earrings.

Shouto wasn’t sure if they were the prettiest options, and he didn’t dare to think it would make him as pretty as his mom and sister, or Momo and Mina. He knew he wasn’t like them. But…

Holding them, knowing he would get to wear them in a few weeks, seeing the silver studs in the reflection of the shop mirror, he felt, just a little bit, special .

It was an honor to hold something so precious and know that it was his.

He owned it.

It was his .

With his longer pink hair, and permanent modification to his ears that guaranteed his appearance had possibility, he finally a little bit of the prettiness he admired was in his life.

Home was becoming prettier too.

Rei had been unpacking her things from the storage unit Enji had forced them into. She no longer lived in a drab mental hospital and she wanted her life to resemble that fact.

She loved decorating their small home. She had freedom in ways she hadn’t before. With additional decoration and furniture, the house was less barren, less of a sterile colorless environment. She hung up impressionist paintings she found second hand. Inspirational quotes lined every wall. She donated what brought back negative memories, but kept everything that had beauty and life.

It was the third of January when Dabi and Shouto were helping Rei get all of her china from the storage unit. They were packed well in many boxes that were all slowly moved into the car’s trunk. Rei had already donated her big china cabinet, and instead thrifted a few smaller ones to save on room.

Unpacking them had been difficult work, but a pleasant job nonetheless. Dabi maneuvered with care, gentle enough to not break anything but not savouring the moment like Rei and Shouto were. 

Shouto thought the pieces of china were the most breathtaking things he had ever seen. The gold painted edges glimmered in the light. Flowers and birds painted with a soft hand captivated his gaze.

With each one Rei unpacked, she’d mention the maker and where she got it. Sometimes she would share memories of various times Fuyumi played ‘tea party’ with them. Rei seemed to find only fondness in her china. 

Dabi didn’t mention that Fuyumi played alone because no friends were welcome into their home.

Shouto didn’t mention that Enji slapped his hand away when he reached to join Fuyumi’s game.

Right now they existed in a tiny bubble, in their quaint home, only half their family there but with a feeling of completeness all the same.

When all was unpacked and arranged, they sat at the dinner table, drank tea, and admired their work.

“There’s still some room.” Dabi murmured.

Rei hummed questioningly. “Hm?”

Dabi gestured to the third cabinet sitting at three feet tall, but only half full. “You could get more if you wanted to.” He shrugged, trying a bit too hard to look nonchalant.

Rei smiled. “Indeed. I haven’t added to my collection in years. It would be nice to have new additions. I always liked rearranging them when I got something new.”

“Maybe you might get something for your birthday…” Dabi murmured into his drink conspiratorially.

Rei rolled her eyes and nudged his shoulder with no real force. “Oh please! My birthday is over a month away. You and Shouto come first, both literally and figuratively!”

“A month and one day. I got a lot of birthdays to make up for– starting the planning now is practically neglect.”

Rei laughed out. “Oh, you’re being ridiculous!”

“Would you like that?” Shouto spoke up, causing both of them to turn to him. “A new addition for your birthday?”

Rei bit her lip tentatively. “Yes, but I’m sure I would love anything you gave me. I’m grateful enough to have you back.”

Shouto smiled back at his mom before a realization struck. He had never gone shopping for fine china before. He didn’t know what was a reasonable price. He knew his mom got most things second hand nowadays, but how was he to tell what he bought was good quality? He doubted Dabi would be of much help, and Shouto wasn’t on speaking terms with Fuyumi since the trial.

She had a sympathy for Enji that Shouto could not tolerate.

“Can we go shopping together? Or would that ruin the whole birthday surprise thing?”

Rei reached across the table to hold Shouto’s hand. “That sounds lovely, dear. We can pick something out together. I know if we enjoyed our time with each other, I’d love it even more. We can even get something for this angsty one over here.” She waved her hand airily in Dabi’s direction.

Dabi coughed through his next sip as he tried his best to smother his breathy laugh and begrudging smile.

The next day Rei and Shouto left to go thrift shopping. 

He had never gone to a thrift store before, but it only took a few minutes to understand why Rei liked them so much.

There were tons of games that Shouto had never dreamed of playing, clothes that reminded him of a wardrobe he never owned but saw on older generations, and so, so much more.

The two perused the CD’s and records first. Shouto didn’t know much about music, but Rei just said to hold up anything angsty and death related and she would look it over. He wasn’t sure if he was doing a good job, but Rei seemed elated when he showed her the motion picture soundtrack of Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. 

He found a CD with a dead fish on the cover reading Mother Mother O MY 🖤 . He wasn’t sure if it was gothic, given the death, or loving, considering there was a heart. Dabi hated fish, but he also loved their mother. Rei said it was a very good find, that Dabi listened to Hayloft I & II a concerning amount, and it wasn’t that hard to take note of. 

Rei added Little Shop of Horrors to the cart before they moved on to the literature section.

The same pattern played out, Shouto picked up whatever looked dark and mysterious and read the back to see if it was scary like Dabi tried so hard to be. The Hunger Games seemed edgy enough– what with the child death and all– and Rei said Dabi would enjoy the anti-capitalism– whatever that meant.

Rei must have been well read. If not from before, then she must have gained exposure to tons of literature while she was away. She commented on lots of books lining the shelves. The majority of them were sad– Of Mice and Men made her particularly tearful. 

Before, Shouto probably would have guessed that she liked romance books. 

But she made not one comment on romance.

In the end they left the section with The Hunger Games , a collection of Edgar Allen Poe poetry, and The Count of Monte Cristo added to their cart.

Finally they made it to the dishware section.

There were glass blown vases. Novelty salt and pepper shakers in different states of pristine and disrepair. Pots for planting and pots for cooking. Metal candle-stick holders and ceramic soap dispensers. Trays, mugs, platters and an endless amount of partial tea sets.

The tea sets were by far the best part of the shop, at least in Shouto’s opinion.

They took turns looking at each one. Rei would prattle off seemingly endless remarks on the silhouette, finish, medium, style, and guesstimations on the year it was from.

Like most things, it went over Shouto’s head. Still, he was quite pleased to see his mother so happy. He had very little memories from his childhood of his mom smiling. It brought him so much joy to see it had become a common sight.

He tried to add input where he could, usually commenting on the painting. The paintings were easily observable. He didn’t have to recognize how well it was crafted to give a compliment about the bird painted on a teapot, or the rose shaped handle to a sugar bowl lid. 

Rei seemed plenty content with that.

She switched to listing the types of birds and flowers. Occasionally Shouto would guess the species before Rei got to it. He was happy when he got a few right; and Rei was proud to see his knowledge even if it was something as simple as recognizing a white lily.

Shouto picked up a lone tea cup and saucer. It had no accompanied pieces, but it was beautiful in its own right. It was a warm cream color, with accents of painted gold, and a plethora of yellow flowers. He held the cup out to his mom. “Are these roses? They are yellow, not red, but they look very similar.”

Rei accepted it gingerly, taking time to slowly rotate the cup in her palm, looking from all angles. “Yes, Deary. Good eye.” She looked up to smile at her son. It was nice to see him so engaged. She returned her gaze once more to the cup. “Roses come in many colors. You probably see red roses most often because they mean romantic love and passion. The world is quite infatuated with that.”

Shouto inched closer to stare at the yellow roses. “Do the other colors have meanings? Like yellow?”

“All flowers have meanings. Most meanings differ from culture to culture, but for yellow roses it is pretty widely accepted that they mean friendship and platonic love.” Rei caressed the painting with her thumb. “They’re my favorite.”

“Let’s get that one.” Shouto nodded in determination. “For you.” 

Rei looked up, first with a face of shock, then slowly gratitude. “That’s very kind of you, Sweetie.”

Shouto wanted to argue. He wasn’t the kind one. The cup felt like hardly anything in comparison to what she went through for the sake of him and his siblings.

But now was not the time for that. This was a sweet moment, and he refused to ruin it.

Still, accepting the compliment felt like too much. He looked to the shelves, picking up the first pink flowered cup he could find. He had yet to know what pink meant. “Does this one have a meaning?”

It was a dingy tea cup, probably white under the grime. It’s handle had clearly broken off and glued back on. The handle was a bit bulky in comparison to the other dainty ones. The flowers kinda looked like cherry blossoms, but not quite.

Rei craned her head to the side to look intently at the cup still in Shouto’s hands. “That’s pink magnolia. That one has many different meanings depending who you ask. Some say it means youth, innocence and friendship. It can also mean grace and femininity.”

Shouto hummed in thought. It wasn’t the best tea cup they’d seen today. It wasn't overly sparkly like the others– something he usually admired. But it had promise. 

Most pieces were at least a little dirty; a thick dust coated this one. But with a few swipes of his thumb, a pearlescent shine started to show through.

“Do you like it?”

Shouto startled and cradled the cup tightly to his chest so as to not drop it. His mom had a knowing smile– he had no idea why. He looked back at the cup in his arms. He moved to hold it properly once more, finding his fingers fit easier in the bulky handle. “It’s dirty.”

“Nothing a good scrubbing couldn’t fix.”

He stared at where his fingers met porcelain, at the dried glue that had seeped from the mended handle. “It’s broken.” He shouldn’t want a damaged piece. There were plenty others to choose from.

“I’d call it well loved.”

Shouto met his mothers eyes. He knew his face must look some level of distraught. “You don’t break things you love.”

Rei’s face saddened, and Shouto cursed himself for ruining the happiness he was so determined to protect. Rei reached her hand out, and through much effort, Shouto smothered a flinch. Her hand came to lay on top of his hand, both now cradling the cup.

She ran her finger over the mend. “Sometimes things get broken. But this piece is mended. They could have thrown it out, bought a new one, but this person chose to fix it. I think that’s love.”

Shouto’s eyes stayed fixated on the cup.

It hadn’t been what he was looking for when entering the shop. It had been a coincidence to even pick it up in the first place. But somehow, some way, this cup meant something to him.

Much more than he would like to admit.

It wasn’t what he would typically think of as pretty– but that seemed to only compel him more.

Because if this tea cup could be pretty, then maybe he could be too… one day.

Maybe .

“Can we still get it?”

“Of course.”

Chapter Text

7 weeks had passed since the first dye. 

Shouto was heartbroken when the color started to fade. He had tried his best to ignore the inch of strawberry blonde roots showing. Strawberry blonde wasn’t that different from pink anyway.

Dabi almost laughed when he discovered why Shouto had been occasionally moping. “If I knew that was the trouble, I would have said something sooner!”

Apparently reapplying was fairly basic when it came to the brand they got. Shouto didn’t catch much of what Dabi was saying, but from what he could gather, ‘vegetable dye’ meant he could reapply more often. 

Shouto felt a bit foolish for thinking the pink hair would be gone forever. But he didn’t want to place hope where it wasn’t guaranteed.

He felt even more ashamed for doubting Rei and Dabi’s level of support. 

Old habits die hard.

Luckily, Dabi seemed to take no offense. He merely gave Shouto his ‘designated dye shirt,’ and got the bathroom ready for any possible mess. Shouto felt oddly nostalgic, sitting on the stool, dark towels folded on the counter and laid on the floor. The bleach on his roots gave a warm tingling feeling to his scalp. It was a feeling that unnerved him last time, but was welcomed now.

He had forgotten to bring his phone with him, so he was left to pick at his cuticles while Joan Jett & The Blackhearts blasted from Dabi’s phone. Shouto knew the band this time because Dabi thought it very imperative he did. Dabi insisted they listen ‘the best of’ til they were done redyeing.

Shouto found he didn’t particularly mind. The vocalist had an impactful voice with plenty of attitude, but lacked Shouto’s main gripe with Dabi’s music: the screaming. It helped that he could actually hear most of the words, though the context didn’t always make sense. He didn't know why she wanted to play with fire; that sounded dangerous. All things considered, it wasn’t bad.

He was more preoccupied with his nails anyway.

Momo had painted them a soft shimmery pink last weekend at Toru’s for their class’s biweekly ‘girls’ nights.’ Though Shouto thought of the label as needlessly exclusive, especially considering he wasn’t the only boy. 

Kirishima would often join when they gathered at Mina’s, having been long time friends with her. And Aoyama had been a recent addition that would sit with them at lunch to gossip and bring handfuls of magazines to each get-together.

But no one else seemed bothered by the label; so Shouto ignored the odd discomfort.

Still, a small part of him was pleased to be considered ‘one of them.’ It was probably because they were such good friends.

Putting that aside, he shifted his hand in a small rocking motion. The shimmer gleamed with the tiny movement. It was fascinating how it appeared as slightly different hues depending on the light. It looked much different now than it had in the sun. It was more cool toned like this.

He had kept his cuticles well maintained with the nail oil pen Momo had given him. It gave him a peculiar satisfaction to push them back. It was a small sense of control in appearance that he had never truly appreciated til the move.

The polish had chipped some, even with a base and top coat. He had text the group chat in concern, but Mina said that was unavoidable. He found himself excited for what polish he was getting next weekend.

Despite recognizing the pattern of acceptance, he was still surprised when Dabi and Rei didn’t put up a fight when he had come home with painted nails– without their permission no less. 

They had said nothing. Shouto was half certain the light pink had been subtle enough of a color that it went unnoticed.

“The pink really suits you.”

Shouto’s thoughts scattered at the abrupt distraction. He dropped his hand to look in the mirror. He thought he looked pretty funny. His roots were covered in soapy-like white, while the ends remained a dry dull pink. Not to mention the ‘designated dye shirt’ that was so covered in black smudges that he wondered why Dabi didn’t just use a black shirt when dyeing. It seemed illogical.

Suffice it to say Shouto didn’t know why Dabi chose now of all times to compliment his hair, or why he recycled that compliment for the third time . 

Maybe it was odd that Shouto had kept track of how many times that phrase was said.

Though if Shouto was being honest, that specific complement hadn’t lost its effect. He felt warm and bubbly all the same. He imagined this was what it felt like to giggle. 

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Huh?” 

“You already said that about my hair. And my necklace.” Shouto pointed out.

“Okay, Sassy. 1: I’m talking about the polish you are ogling– new thing. 2: I gave you that necklace, I can appreciate my own taste. 3: I can be as redundant as I damn please.”

Shouto paused to think that over. He wasn’t trying to be sassy. He didn’t actually understand what the word meant other than people getting mad. But Dabi didn’t seem mad–at least not madder than his typically broody, sarcastic self.

From context, it sounded like Dabi approved of his polish choice. Though, he couldn’t take all the credit. “Momo did it for me.” He smiled to himself, liking how the words sounded.

“She’s the one with the perfect hair, right?” 

Shouto wasn’t looking, but Dabi sounded so smug. He could easily picture the obnoxious grin Dabi probably sported.

Despite himself, Shouto felt flustered. It wasn’t like that. Momo was just on a whole different level of pretty. It was normal to comment on it. Dabi and Momo were the ones most invested in his hair care. It made sense to talk about them and their hair.

Dabi’s hair was dyed and styled in spikes. The sky was blue. And Momo’s hair was so soft and shiny; it was perfect .

Those were just facts of life.

They both helped him in their own ways. When his hair started turning peachy, Dabi got him purple toning shampoo. After Shouto had mentioned in passing how lovely Momo’s hair was, she had recommended the conditioner brand she always used.

The toning shampoo helped maintain the desired color. The conditioner had been a bit pricey, and Shouto was skeptical at first, but it worked just as well as Momo had claimed. 

He hoped she would notice the next time she braided it.

Dabi had still been waiting for a response when the 30 minute timer went off. He sighed as he dismissed the notification. “Okay, rinse time.”

As Shouto stood in the shower, water beating down on him, he let his mind reminisce. 

Last ‘girls’ night’ had been the best so far.

With gentle encouragement from the others, he had decided to finally get his nails painted. Too overwhelmed with options, he couldn’t decide on what color to choose. He had felt like if he was the one to pick it out, he would choose wrong.

Mina and Momo had gone back and forth on choices. Mina had thought something sparkly and bold would fit his hair. Momo had thought something softer would be better fit to his personality. When they settled on that pearlescent shimmery pink, Shouto had felt beyond flattered.

It was nice that they had thought he was deserving of something so pretty .

While Momo painted his nails, she had her hair done by Tsu. Tsu had been doing a ‘crown braid.’ Shouto had thought that was a weird title, til he saw the finished product.

Momo had looked like a princess.

The girls had been talking about previous sleepovers and differing house rules. 

Mina, Jirou and Ochako had planned to stay the night after everyone else left. Toru had said they were going to play Just Dance and Twister . 

Mina loved hosting slumber parties. She apparently had been having sleepovers with Kirishima since they were little. Their parents were good friends. It suddenly made sense why Kirishima was there so often despite the overwhelming lack of femininity in appearance and hobbies.

Toru felt bad she couldn’t stay the night at anybody else’s house. Her parents wanted her to stay supervised. She also moped that she couldn’t invite Kirishima, Aoyama and Shouto to her slumber parties.

Momo, and Aoyama didn’t get to do sleepovers often, due to the amount of after school activities they both had. 

Momo was allowed to spend her free time however she wanted, but she didn’t have much of it. However she couldn't invite anyone over. Her parents liked the house spick and span. It was a concept that did not mesh well with teenagers.

Tsu never got to stay the night due to her responsibilities at home. Both her parents worked late shifts, so most nights it was up to her to make dinner and put her two siblings to bed.

Jirou rarely stayed the night. She preferred to sleep at home. Occasionally she’d have one friend over, but not often.

It was very common for Ochako to stay the night at one of her friend’s houses. She lived alone so plenty of their friend group’s parents wanted to make sure she was getting the care she needed. Most of the time she stayed at Himiko’s house– someone Shouto had yet to meet, but heard a lot about.

Shouto had tried not to get jealous. He had been glad his friends got to have fun like that, he just wanted that too. He had been grateful for their talks at the school lunch table, for the phone numbers he had, but barely texted, and for the get-togethers like that one.

It was wrong to have such an ugly feeling when he already had so much to be grateful for.

He had tried to block it out, and focus on the pretty shade of polish. He tried to look more intently on the top coat that made it even more shiny.

However, Ochako’s recount of staying up all night to marathon the Twilight movies with Himiko and Hitoshi had been particularly distracting.

Something about a suicidal woman not wanting to be stalked by vampire babies, but happy to have her vampire boyfriend watch her sleep, and a best friend who didn’t listen to anyone, and took his shirt off a lot. Also a war about a vampire baby she died for? SHouto thought she didn't like vampire babies?

It had been very confusing.

Ochako had said Himiko really liked doing movie marathons– usually of the horror or romance variety. Ochako wasn’t a big fan at first, but watching the behind the scenes first helped and actually made the experience enjoyable. 

She had said Himiko and Hitoshi were obsessed with giving fun facts of the filming process. Himiko’s enthusiasm always pushed late into the night, and Hitoshi had chronic insomnia, so sometimes the movies lasted till the sun rose.

“You know, for a third wheel, Hitoshi is really not bad! I’m glad my girlfriend has such a cool brother.” Ochako had concluded as she waved her hands to dry her sparkly gold polish.

Jirou had paused the scrolling on her phone to comment. “I still can’t believe that both your parents let you do that. My parents would never let a girlfriend or boyfriend stay the night.”

Ochako's already pink cheeks had flushed darker. “Well both Miss Kayama really takes it upon herself to make sure I’m eating enough, have clean laundry, getting help with homework, that kinda stuff.” Ochako had waved her hand casually. “So I pretty much have an open door policy with her. She used to be a foster parent, so she still has an extra room for me to stay in.”

When no one had said anything right away, Ochako jumped in to explain further. “But she still have rules obviously! Like, if Himiko and I are gonna stay up past curfew, then we have to stay in the living room with our designated third wheel, Hitoshi. So it’s not that crazy!” She finished with an awkward chuckle, looking off to the side as she pulled on her earlobe.

Momo capped the polish and commented with a smile. “That’s very nice of all them! I’m glad you have such a good support system.”

“Yeah,” Ochako smiled back, eyes glistening with tears. “Me too.”

That had been the first time Shouto realized that the girl Ochako talked about so much was actually a girlfriend. Himiko was a romantic partner, not a friend.

Shouto hadn’t known how to feel about that.

Shouto knew Enji wouldn’t have approved. He probably would have banned Shouto from seeing Ochako again, for fear of her being a bad influence– of corrupting Shouto. 

After Mom left, Dabi was all but legally disowned. Enji became particularly obsessed with sheltering his remaining children. Shouto didn’t really understand why at the time. Now he could surmise it had something to do with Enji not wanting Shouto or his siblings to end up like Dabi. It would explain the constant reminder from Enji to never become a failure. 

Anything that was seen to possibly hinder their perfection was rooted out from their lives. It took Shouto a constant effort to not let Enji’s teachings get to him. He knew Enji had been wrong for what he did, so logically, Shouto shouldn’t hold on to any sort of lesson Enji had crammed into his skull.

But that was easier said than done.

Trying to erase the overwhelming majority of one’s young life and start fresh was difficult.

Still, Shouto gladly accepted the challenge. His current life and the people in it was worth the confusion and effort. This was not something he was willing to lose.

So Shouto smothered his impulses, and asked Ochako more about what Himiko was like. He ended up getting Himiko’s number. 

Turns out Himiko was a great texting companion. He hoped to see her next ‘girls’ night.’

Shouto stepped out of the shower, dried himself, and dawned the ‘designated dye shirt’ once more.

When Dabi came back, he got to blow drying Shouto’s hair. Joan Jett & the Blackhearts fought to blare over the noise. When his hair returned to peak fluffiness, Dabi set down the hair dryer and adjusted the music volume. With gloved hands, Dabi started lathering the hair in the neon pink pigment.

“Ya got any ideas for your birthday this year, yet? You’ve been dodging the question. If you wait much longer, I’m going to have to go with my gut.” Dabi started conversationally.

This seemed like a topic Shouto could handle easier. “I put my wish list on the fridge.”

Dabi raised a brow. After a second or two he cackled with glee. “Ah, yes! I was wondering why there was a napkin saying ‘socks, water bottle, lunch box.’ I was worried what you had been eating!”

Shouto’s shoulders drooped. “I suppose I should’ve labeled it.”

Dabi made an abrupt noise of dismissal. “Nah, it’s way funnier this way.”

“Oh.” Shouto supposed that was better. “Good.”

“But that’s all you want?”

Shouto shrugged. “That’s all I need.”

Dabi paused his ministrations to crouch in front of Shouto. “Shouto, grocery shopping is for necessities. Birthday lists are for fun. You know that, right? I mean, you and Mom got each other tea cups.”

Shouto’s gazes shifted to Dabi’s eyebrow piercings. It was easier to look at than the intense eye contact. “I suppose. But that wasn’t on a list . And Mina and Toru go ‘window shopping’ all the time. Don’t you just get things for people you love, regardless of lists?”

Dabi sighed. He stood back up and resumed the dyeing. “Yeah, that can be true. But lists are to help your loved ones know what will make you happy. Will socks make you happy?”

This conversation felt weird. Birthday’s had never been particularly happy occasions for Shouto. He had been taught not to be frivolous. Only the necessities mattered; and everything else was a distraction. Enji always seemed pleased when his birthday lists were like this. Shouto had thought his mother would think the same. 

According to Dabi, Shouto had missed the mark. His gaze was glued to the floor. He answered honestly. “No.”

“Okay.” Dabi sounded pleased. “Well, is there something you do want?”

So much. There was so much Shouto wanted that it made him ache at night. 

It had become a constant to scold himself for being so jealous, so discontent. But something wasn’t right . Something had never been right.

The steps he took toward what he admired, had him itching for more. He had started to wonder if the efforts were pointless. Maybe he was meant to be dull.

He looked to the mirror, as if his reflection had answers.

He wasn’t complete; he wasn’t satiated. 

But…

His pink hair. His brother dyeing his pink hair. The silver studs his mother had gotten him that would be replaced with real earrings at the end of the month.

It made him feel supported– accepted.

He felt better. Not complete. But better.

If he could wish for anything, it would be to feel as supported as he did now.

Before the dramatic shift in the family dynamic, Shouto had never had friends over, had never spent time with friends at all. Since moving in with his mom, he had started hanging out with his friends outside of class. It had been a terrifying thing: asking his mom if he could go to a friend’s house. But she had emphasized time and time again that he needn’t be afraid of asking questions. She had said, ‘There are no bad questions.’ Thankfully, that statement had proven true so far.

Maybe he could be like his friends. Maybe he could ask for a bit more. Maybe he was allowed to want– to be greedy.

“Can I have friends over? For a sleepover?”

“Kid, it’s January 6th. You’ve got 5 days til your birthday.”

“Oh.” Shouto bit his lip to stop a frown.

Dabi took off his gloves, grabbing his phone. “I’ll text mom. You text your friends. We’ve got a lot to get done if we’re gonna pull this off.” He had that thrilled grin that meant Shouto was in for a wild ride.

Dabi was the best.