Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“How do we plan a wedding?”

Hizashi looked up, watching as Shouta stared at a pile of magazines he’d collected. He almost snorted into his coffee, stunned at the absurdity of watching as his fiancé leafed through one of them, frowned, then put it to the side and grabbed another one.

Fiancé.

His fiancé!

He felt his heart beating double every single time he thought or said the word. Shouta was his fiancé. He was Shouta’s fiancé. They were going to get married. They had two kids and three cats and a house of their own and they were going to be married. If Oboro had been around to see them now, he would have laughed. They had survived so much together, done so much together. Lost friends, made friends, stayed in hospital chairs to wait for the other to wake up. They had two kids, now, two children who needed them. Kids and cats and something Hizashi felt to the deepest parts of himself, a comfort nothing else would ever be able to replicate.

This was his life.

“Carefully, usually,” Hizashi grinned when Shouta stared at him with a narrow-eyed expression, frowning. “Bring it up to your class, Shou. Your little hellions offered to help plan, remember?” He stood up, stretching, then laughed when Tuna yowled mournfully as she rolled sideways into the spot he’d vacated. He’d entirely forgotten she’d been leaned up against his leg. He crossed to Shouta and took the magazines out of his hands, brushing his hair out of his face. Shouta’s cheeks turned pink, a small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “We’re in it together, hah? You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I want those same hellions there,” Shouta muttered.

“I know,” Hizashi nodded. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. They’re a huge part of our lives.”

“Your parents are going to go insane when they hear the news,” Shouta dropped his face into Hizashi’s shoulder. “My father is going to try and explain the most logical and rational paths for the wedding to take. And then go insane. In his own way. My grandparents as well.”

“Our families will be somewhat overbearing, as is their habit,” Hizashi agreed cheerfully. “We’ll know they love us all the same. They’ll probably want to help plan and start fussing over every single detail, then drag you and me around in our already limited spare time to plan everything with us as living dolls.” He curled a hand into Shouta’s hair, kissing his temple gently and wrapping his other arm around Shouta’s waist. “Which is why we’re going to cut that off at the pass and engage the hell class in planning and decorating as much as possible.”

Shouta snorted. “Have I told you I love you?”

“Every day,” Hizashi leaned a little closer, a little lower, and kissed the side of Shouta’s neck. “Just as much as I love you.”

He laughed, turning his head when he heard two pairs of small feet coming towards them. They had let Hitoshi run a small errand with Eri, the two of them retrieving dessert from the store just down the road. Eri was old enough to start running small errands on her own, technically, but none of them wanted to send her out on her own yet. Hitoshi was protective of his new little sister, shadowing her movements when they went out anywhere.

When they had done the same thing for her that they had for him, he had been the one walking next to her and explaining what was happening.

In a moment that had reduced both of them to quiet tears as they watched, Hitoshi had taken Eri’s hand and walked her over to the stuffed animals. He had told her to grab whichever one she wanted, just the same as he had been. Hizashi had caught Shouta wiping at his cheeks during that, laughing when Shouta stuck his tongue out at him. Hitoshi had helped her choose dresses and leggings, tiny cardigans that would cover up her arms if she wanted. He and Hizashi had spent almost an hour in the hair accessories section, laughing and joking and encouraging.

Shouta had been the one with her in the art supplies section.

Eri had gotten overwhelmed in public, at first. Reminded of bad memories, scared back into her shell, but now she was blooming. There were smiles more often than tears and she laughed like any other girl her age. The bad memories would, with time, become bad dreams. Hopefully, they would eventually fade away entirely. Right now, however, Eri was proudly holding up a bag. “We did it!” she announced. “We got ice cream!”

“There we go!” Hizashi laughed, kissed Shouta’s forehead, and turned to face her, crouching down. “Did you pick a good one?”

“’Toshi picked a couple,” she nodded. “And—And I picked mango!”

“Good choice, little listener,” Hizashi reached out and waited a second, his hand in the air, as Eri leaned into the offered contact. He ruffled her hair gently, still smiling. That was the rule, after all. Offer and let her come to you. She was still learning how the world worked and on top of that, she had to re-learn how people were supposed to interact. Her life had been filled with the wrong sort of interactions, thus far. She bumped her head into the palm of his hand like one of their cats, giggling when he patted her. “How about I take the ice cream and put it in the freezer, then you come help me with dinner?”

Eri nodded slowly, her eyes bright as she followed along behind him.

Hizashi set up a stool so she could stand next to him, giving her a space to work in as well. She liked peeling things, liked washing vegetables so he could chop them. Hitoshi usually drifted in closer to watch, helping when two pairs of hands weren’t enough. The small scars on the sides of his hands had been enough explanation as to why he didn’t feel very comfortable in a kitchen just yet. Shouta spent dinner prep grading, then did the dishes afterward.

A routine, put together from years together, expanded to include their new additions.

Glancing at his fiancé, Hizashi hummed happily.

They had always been a unit, a combined force, but now their little family had two young members who were going to be there forever. Two adults, two kids, three cats. A combined household.

A wedding to plan and put together.

With the addition of Shouta’s class, they were going to have a full house.

Hizashi hummed and handed Eri a bowl of vegetables, along with a peeler, and laughed when she cheered. The kabocha on top was one of her favorites and he had left it in the bowl just so she could see it. The plan was to chop it up and roast it in pieces, no peeling required. Eri hummed with him, both of them occasionally throwing in notes to change the tune. He would have loved her anyway, would have adored having a daughter, but she loved music, and that made Hizashi almost want to cry.

With a glance at Hitoshi, Hizashi offered him a bowl of edamame. “Do you feel up to helping with these?”

Hitoshi stared at them, then nodded. He took the bowl and settled in to prepare them. It had been one of the first things he’d asked to learn how to make. Something he could do without knives, without panic and anxiety and fear.

“So,” Hizashi asked once they were both settled in near him. “What do you two think we should do for our wedding?”

“Am I going?” Eri’s voice was a burst of noise, her eyes wide and her expression bright.

“Of course you are, little listener!” Hizashi laughed, turning to press a quick kiss to the top of her head. “I wouldn’t want you anywhere else. You either,” he turned to Hitoshi, grinning. “You’re our kids. Of course you’re going to be involved and in attendance.”

Hitoshi’s mouth turned up at the edges, still just about elbow-deep in the bowl of edamame. He didn’t say anything, but Hizashi could tell he was excited, just like Eri was.

“We’re going to have Shouta’s class come, too,” Hizashi explained. “And we already know they want to help decorate.”

“You should get Denki to help set up lights,” Hitoshi spoke softly, eyes focused on his work. His cheeks were burning. “He’s…He’s good at that. He figured out how to work with electricity because of his Quirk, he wanted to know how it worked, because he was curious, and so he taught himself.” He hesitated, then glanced up at Hizashi. “And Jirou knows music really well, but I don’t know if you want to handle that yourself.”

“So we’ve got lights and music probably handled,” Hizashi turned to look at Shouta. “Shou? Taking notes over there?”

“Heard and noted,” came the response, his fiancé not even looking up.

“Izuku can help,” Eri spoke up, practically bouncing on her stool. “And he’s really smart!”

“That he is!” Hizashi laughed again. “So I think we might need to ask him what his ideas are – If he’s as resourceful and willing to plan for this as he is in his studies and everything else, we’ll need to talk to him.”

He paused in his dinner prep, sweeping Eri into his arms after a pause, before he moved over to Hitoshi and hugged both of them together.

He could always wash his hands again.

X

He sat in his office, looking over the papers he was grading, when a knock sounded.

Shouta looked up, frowning.

He wasn’t late for a meeting, wasn’t due to attend anything of the sort. Standing up, stretching, he made his way to the door and opened it. On the other side were some of his students – Yaoyorozu, Midoriya, Todoroki, and Ashido. The four of them stared at him with various levels of barely hidden glee in the expressions they wore. “We came to show you ideas about your wedding,” Yaoyorozu spoke first. “You said we could help you plan it and that after school was the best time for that.”

She held up a notebook, nodding once as if asserting herself.

Shouta stood back from the door, letting the four of them file in. Immediately, his office was almost completely buried in papers as the four of them kneeled and pulled things out of their bags. Midoriya had a pen in his mouth, stuck between his teeth like it had just appeared there, and he was elbow-deep in his bag as he nodded along to something Ashido was saying. The notebook in his left hand was open to a sketch of a pair of wedding outfits. “Hah!” he brightened up when he found something in the bottom of his bag, spitting the pen out to exclaim in victory. His phone had been located, it seemed. “So Kacchan says he can get his parents to help with their outfits, so I think we’ve got that pretty much covered, though the fabric might need to be custom-made and ordered, depending on what the final themes are going to be.” He held up the sketch when Shouta moved closer to him, waiting for approval.

They were good designs.

“Very nice,” Shouta found himself nodding. It was the only answer he could really give. He hadn’t much cared about his own clothing in ages – the only important things were the stuff he wore that reminded him of Hizashi. The necklace tucked under his collar and the sleepshirt that had once belonged to his fiancé.

“Kacchan designed them just for you two,” Midoriya nodded, all bright smiles again. “He told me if I lost the sketches he’d come after me, so I made sure I kept them safe.”

Yaoyorozu nodded, leafing through the notebook she held. “I have the numbers of a couple of caterers and some other essentials in here,” she offered up to the rest of them. She gestured at Ashido, who held up her hands in a V-pose. “She’s going to handle keeping track of the guest list and seating, she’s good at that sort of thing. Todoroki and I will be handling payments.”

Shouta felt his brain stuttering to a halt, holding his hands up. “Hold on. I cannot have my students paying for my wedding—”

“Oh, we’re not,” Yaoyorozu grinned.

“…What?”

“It took very little convincing to have our parents on board or at the very least not protesting,” she explained, folding her hands over her open notebook, sitting in her lap. Lifting her chin, she met his eyes. “You saved our lives. The lives of our entire class. My parents alone would have funded up to two hundred and fifteen thousand yen for your wedding.” Yaoyorozu glanced at Todoroki, who nodded along. “Pro Hero Endeavor is unlikely and probably unwilling to publicly acknowledge that you saved the life of his youngest son, but he is consenting to help pay for this as a quiet mark of gratitude.”

Blinking, Shouta sat down with his students. “This is insane.”

“So is everything else about our school careers, sir!” Ashido cackled. “This is the least we can do. Don’t look at it as your students paying for your wedding – Look at it as a kickback for being an awesome hero. You deserve this, Aizawa-sensei,” she smiled, her eyes watery. “The USJ was one of the most terrifying moments in my life. You made it so we all got home that day and then we weren’t sure if we’d be watching you die. It felt…Worse than a nightmare,” She looked up at him again, back to smiling even as tears tried to escape. “But you made it out alive. And because of you, so did we.”

Shouta looked at the four of them.

Yaoyorozu, in her dignified and unwavering confidence. Midoriya, his constant enthusiasm backed by Todoroki’s silent support. Ashido and her bright manner, the cheer in her tone. None of them were known for backing down or giving up.

“Okay,” he surrendered. “Let’s go over the plans.”

Chapter Text

Class hadn’t started yet.

Hitoshi sat at his new desk, his arms crossed and supporting his head, his mind wandering as he waited for his dad to walk in. He had split off from them when they’d all arrived so that he could find Kyouka and Denki. Their hands clasped together, his boyfriend was slumped against the front of Hitoshi’s desk, curled up against the back of Izuku’s chair. Kyouka was talking quietly to her girlfriend, occasionally pulling Denki’s attention into their conversation. It was nice, calm even, to be involved in a group of people, welcomed and wanted, and be allowed to be himself. To just exist without them trying to change him or having them be terrified of him.

“Hmm,” Denki groaned, tilting his head from one side to the other. “Has anyone seen the prez?” he sat up, blinking tiredly and yawning so widely his jaw cracked. “Seriously, Iida is usually here by now.”

Sitting up a little, Hitoshi frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him be late before,” he looked around. Bakugou was sitting up front, ignoring all of them. His hearing aids were on the desk in front of him, probably turned off until it was time for class to start. Kirishima was habitually a little behind – not late, but not early either. Izuku wouldn’t be on time for his own funeral, in all likelihood, so Hitoshi knew not to expect him until literal moments before the starting bell rang.

But Iida was normally so on time that it made Hitoshi’s dad look bad. The man had never once been late to class in his life, even as a student.

“I hope he is alright,” Momo spoke up, a small frown on her face when Hitoshi turned to look at her. “Normally, he texts me a list of things he hopes to accomplish, every morning. He still thinks he can get Bakugou to wear a tie and neaten up his uniform,” she shook her head. “But I did not receive that this morning.” She looked at Kyouka, her frown growing. “It is out of character, but I was trying not to worry. There was something he mentioned wanting to do, recently, but he gave me no more detail than that.”

“The fuck did you say about me?” Bakugou turned in his seat, snarling and shoving his hearing aid back in. Ah, Hitoshi realized. He’d had only one of them out. Enough to hear his own name being said.

“Iida’s ongoing mission to make you wear your uniform correctly,” Hitoshi shrugged. Out of a growing habit, used to it from speaking with his dad, he was always careful to shape his words as precisely as possible. It seemed to help Bakugou in some way, though the explosive boy would never admit to it. His eyes always dropped to Hitoshi’s mouth to read his lips. When the blond nodded, just slightly, Hitoshi sighed. “Apparently, he didn’t check in with Momo today.”

With a sneer, Bakugou scoffed. “Probably trying to get Deku to fuckin’ show up on time for once,” he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he turned around entirely, straddling his chair and staring at all of them.

“That will never happen,” Hitoshi rolled his eyes. Izuku was one of his best friends, these days, but even he knew how impossible that was. Behind him, the classroom door opened, admitting Todoroki and Uraraka, followed by Tsu. “Have any of you seen Iida today?” he asked, watching as they all stopped. Todoroki dropped into his chair unceremoniously, turning to stare at Hitoshi with narrowed eyes. There was something he’d been annoyed at Hitoshi about, lately, but he hadn’t bothered to say what it was.

Hitoshi could only make guesses.

“No, sorry,” Uraraka pulled out her phone, checking her messages quickly. “I haven’t even heard from him – usually he texts me to check to see if Izuku is here, yet. I’m normally here after he is.”

She moved to her desk, exchanging a look with Tsu, who shrugged. The empty space between them, Iida’s desk, was an odd gap. The rest of the class began filing in slowly, and Hitoshi watched the stream of people as they sat down. Koda smiled and waved to Kyouka, who waved back without saying anything. Sado and Tokoyami were next, talking quietly about something – Hitoshi heard something about comics – before they split off to their own desks.

Ojirou walked in, holding hands with Hagakure, both of them speaking animatedly with each other. Shouji was next, walking silently to his desk and sitting down with a nod at Hitoshi when he noticed he was being watched.

Still no Iida.

Despite his observation of their incoming classmates, Hitoshi could tell that Bakugou was watching them as well. When Kirishima arrived, he moved to stand at Bakugou’s side, his fingers curled and resting against Bakugou’s upper arm, saying something soft and slow. They were the biggest open secret in 1A, having been dating since about a month or two after the sports festival. No one had ever said anything, and they had never confirmed anything, but it was hard to argue against what everyone saw. The two of them often had study dates that went from studying to date afterward. Hitoshi had seen that with his own eyes, one weekend, wandering around town with Denki.

Ashido practically threw herself into the room, stopping next to Hitoshi’s desk long enough to ruffle Denki’s hair like she did every morning. “Hello lovebirds!” she cackled as Bakugou snarled something about keeping her goddamn voice down, rolling her eyes as his palms sparked. Aoyama walked in after her, his fingers pressed to his mouth as he stared at the connection between Hitoshi and Denki’s hands, glancing at Mina and chuckling.

Weirdly, the two of them seemed to have settled into an odd relationship – unexpected friends, and no one quite knew how it had happened. At least they seemed happy with it, even if their entire friendship appeared to be based on judging others’ outfits together.

Seventeen out of twenty students in attendance so far, and Iida was still missing.

A shadow of doubt started to creep into Hitoshi’s mind, a wash of worry dragging at him. Denki’s grip on his hand tightened for a moment, and he looked at his boyfriend. “Super weird,” Denki glanced towards the door. “But it’ll be okay. Aizawa-Sensei wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him. I mean, he’d barely known us for a few days when he almost died to keep us safe at the USJ. If he found out that something happened to one of us now, I think he’d probably tear someone apart to get us back, safe and sound.” He smiled, leaning into Hitoshi’s space and bumping their noses together. When he pulled back, he jerked his head towards his desk. “I’m going to go sit down so I don’t get yelled at.”

Hitoshi let go of his hand, smiling despite his worry. Denki always knew exactly what to say. “He wouldn’t yell at you that much,” he chuckled.

“See, you say that and yet – my nightmares still feature it,” Denki turned, walking backward, and threw up his ridiculous finger guns. His cheeks were bright red, though, and Hitoshi knew he matched. The door opened, and Sero walked in. There was something odd in his posture, though, and Hitoshi watched as he paused, looking at something across the room before moving over to his desk and sitting down. Denki leaned back and held out a fist, laughing as Sero finally smiled and reached out to bump his into it.

Iida finally walked in.

His cheeks were pinker than usual, and he stopped behind Hitoshi to speak with Momo for a few seconds, then bowed to her and walked across the room to his desk. Hitoshi watched him go, then turned to Momo. “Is he okay?”

“He said something came up this morning and he apologized,” she frowned, keeping her voice soft. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this dejected, before. Not even when his brother…Well. I think something might be wrong,” Momo kept her gaze carefully on Hitoshi, not looking around or giving a hint that she was talking about Iida. “I have never heard him be that quiet. It almost seemed like he was frustrated with something.”

The thudding of footsteps heralded the arrival of the last member of their class, Izuku practically throwing himself through the doorway and towards his desk. Kirishima took that as his cue to get to his seat, tapping his knuckles on Bakugou’s shoulder as he walked away.

“You know,” Hitoshi leaned forward, practically muttering in his friend’s ear. “You’d be less worried about being late if you woke up on time in the morning,” he grinned when Izuku’s cheeks burned, the green-haired boy covering his face with his arms and nodding. “Just a thought.” He leaned back, chuckling quietly when Izuku waved him off, muttering something about comfortable beds and alarms that were too quiet. He felt a slight wave of cold off to his right when he leaned back and turned to see Todoroki staring at him, that same expression in place. The narrow-eyed glare, Hitoshi realized, was aimed directly at Hitoshi.

His dad walked in, Eri following carefully along next to him. She had a small book in her hands, her favorite little cat purse slung across her small shoulders. When his dad paused next to him, glancing down at Hitoshi, Hitoshi lifted his head and nodded.

It was a good day. No panic on the horizon, despite the worry about Iida and his uncharacteristic late arrival.

When his dad nodded back and moved on, Eri paused for a second and stared up at him with her bright red eyes. Hitoshi offered her his arm, and she latched onto it, holding tightly to it for a second before she dashed away after their dad. She paused again, patting Izuku’s shoulder with a smile, then finally made it to her own tiny desk in the corner. After everything that had happened, the way they had found her, it had been decided that keeping her nearby was the best course of action.

It meant Hitoshi often got random hugs from his baby sister, so he wasn’t too upset by it.

Eri had folded into their little family perfectly and quickly, despite everything. He watched her as she pulled the stack of papers their dad laid on her desk closer and took her box of crayons from him as well. His dad cleared his throat, and the entire classroom snapped to attention, all of them sitting up straight in their seats. Hitoshi noticed Todoroki staring at him from the corner of his eye, just for a second, and filed it away as something he would have to deal with later.

-

Later turned out to be at lunch.

A hand on his shoulder made Hitoshi flinch away, a noise startling out of him that made Denki whip around like an alarm had gone off. Todoroki stood there, his expression as blank as it usually was, and stared at Hitoshi. “I must speak with you,” he continued to stare, unmoving, until Hitoshi nodded.

“Okay,” Denki leaned in, brushing Todoroki’s hand off of Hitoshi’s shoulder. “But you don’t need to touch him to talk to him.”

A surge of warmth made Hitoshi’s cheeks burn, a smile tugging at his lips. Denki had been protective of him ever since what he had called, ‘The Bakugou incident’. Hitoshi was thankful for it, thankful that there was someone he could always trust to help him look after his boundaries. “It’s okay, Denki,” he nudged their foreheads together, “Thank you.” He curled their hands together, turning back to Todoroki. “What did you need to talk about?”

“…Not here,” Todoroki continued to stare at him, blank-faced, before turning on his heel and walking away. “In the hall.”

Barely refraining from rolling his eyes, Hitoshi looked at Denki, who nodded. “I’ll make sure you get your food,” Denki grinned. “Go make sure his jealousy is kept in check. He’s being dumb about something, and I think I know what it is. Probably everyone does, actually.” He accepted a kiss on the cheek from Hitoshi, who sighed and wandered off after the other elemental Quirk user.

Finding him in the hallway was easy. Todoroki was standing in front of the door, his hands carefully still at his sides. Hitoshi could see something flaring to life in his eyes at the sight of him and groaned internally. Denki was right; that looked like jealousy. Why was he jealous, what did Hitoshi have that he was jealous over? “Okay, I have a lunch to eat with my boyfriend,” Hitoshi gestured back into the lunchroom. “Please just talk quickly. I don’t know what your issue with me is, lately, but I would really just like to have the peace and quiet we had at the beginning of my time in your class back.”

“You are friends with Izuku,” Todoroki stared at him, expression still just as blank as before, despite the light in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Hitoshi nodded, pressing his lips together. “Yep. It’s what comes out of spending time with him – I think he could probably even befriend a villain, given enough time and chances. He’s likeable. He’s a good person and a good friend.”

Todoroki continued to stare at him.

“…Is that it?” Hitoshi raised his eyebrows, staring back. “Are – Are you done? Can I go eat lunch with my boyfriend now?”

His hands curled into fists at his sides.

“Oh my god,” Hitoshi muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Seriously. How about this: I’m not dating Izuku. I have no interest in dating Izuku. I know for a fact that he has no interest in dating me. Whatever you’re dealing with, whatever jealousy you’re feeling, it’s based on absolutely nothing. I have not, have never, and will never feel anything romantic towards Izuku. Please,” he tilted his head back. “Please just talk to him. I have seen you glare at me every single morning I say something to him – this morning was about him being late. I was joking but also kind of making fun of him.”

“You joke with him,” Todoroki’s voice was oddly calm.

“Yes! I do!” Hitoshi groaned, clenching his own hands into fists, shaking them in the air for a second. He was exasperated already, knowing exactly where this conversation was likely heading. “I spent a lot of time with him! To catch up on lessons! He had notes and a whole system dedicated to helping people figure out how to make information stick in their heads. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but he’s kind of amazing with organizational systems and notes.” He waved a hand at Todoroki, who watched the movement of it with a somewhat terrifying amount of focus. “We! Are! just! Friends!”

A frown formed on Todoroki’s face and Hitoshi dropped his own into his hands. He almost missed the other boy speaking up again. “How did you ask Denki out?”

“Oh, I am so not the person to be asking this,” Hitoshi sighed.

“Why not?”

“Denki and I officially asked each other out while I was in a hospital bed in the aftermath of the situation that got me a little sister,” Hitoshi met Todoroki’s eyes. “Please, just…Buy him an All Might figure. Or a hoodie. Something. Make it a date. Take him out with you or something – Quit glaring at me every morning. Izuku is smart, but sometimes he doesn’t notice what’s going on around him. He spends a lot of time in his head, going over the things he knows.” Hitoshi took a deep breath, leaning his head back. “I kind of have no idea how I ended up dating Denki, exactly, all I know is that I would give anything to stay with him. I have no advice to give you other than just…Be blunt. You’re good at that. Tell him directly. Don’t do the whole, ‘I like you’ thing because Izuku will respond with, ‘I like you too’ and you’ll think that’s clear communication, and he’ll just think you are friends, and it will go on like a bad romantic comedy.”

He knew those movies. His dad liked watching them when he had a rare night off. If he had time before Put Your Hands Up aired, he would watch one or two of them.

Todoroki nodded, still staring at Hitoshi. Hitoshi frowned, then heaved out a sigh. “Izuku has actually told me about that expression. He mentioned that’s how you looked when you asked him if he was All Might’s son. Go ahead,” he gestured for the other boy to say whatever he was going to say. “Get it out of your system, please. I do not have room in my life for conspiracy theories.”

“Are you certain you are not Aizawa-Sensei’s biological child?” Todoroki seemed to be relieved after saying the words out loud.

“I am absolutely sure I am not,” Hitoshi laughed a little, shaking his head. “Adopting me would have gone much smoother. And seriously, I mean it. Ask him out and be blunt about it. Tell him you want to take him on a date. Make sure he knows.” He hesitated, then put a hand on Todoroki’s shoulder. “Just…Tell him. Don’t be a bad romantic comedy.” He watched as the other boy stared at his hand, then nodded slowly. “Other than that, you’re being a little unreasonably jealous. Izuku and I were never even aiming for romantic with each other. He’s just the one who figured out I needed a friend first. Once Denki got the same idea, I had no hope of being left alone to listen to my own mind.”

“Izuku is good at that.” Todoroki’s smile was a small twitch of his lips, his mismatched eyes going hazy for a second as he stared into the distance. “Go back to lunch,” he lifted his head, then turned on his heel and walked away.

“Ask him out!” Hitoshi called back to him, turning to walk back to Denki’s side.

He hoped he hadn’t been that hard to read when Denki had started liking him. That would have been a problem, and he wasn’t sure they would have had their relationship now.

He somehow knew his hopes were for nothing, on that matter.