Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"...It's kind of silly to me."

Izuku says it while lying on his side, facing me, his cheek buried into his pillow. I'm sitting on the floor beside his bed, back resting against the wooden frame. I look up at him, raising an eyebrow. "What is?"

He sighs, slow and heavy, rolling onto his back. His curls fall into his face and he pushes them out of his eyes with an awkward little laugh. "Everything they were saying back there. I-I dunno. About me and Uraraka." I swallow thickly. Right. That.

We were out in the commons room a few minutes prior, watching some dumb rom-com that Kaminari picked out for the class, even though it wasn't his turn to pick. I wasn't paying much attention to the movie until everybody kept nudging Izuku. Snickering and whispering stupid things about how the two cheesy main characters were just like him and Uraraka. Dancing around each other but so clearly in love. It put a bad taste in my mouth. And, judging by this conversation, it was the same for Izuku.

I tune back in, and Izuku is already rambling on. "I'm not huge on romance, in general, maybe? I mean, love is a seriously strong word! Isn't it? I just— I have no idea what that feels like."

"Seems like you thought about this stuff plenty," I say dryly, but I barely meant to even say that aloud. Not loud enough for him to hear, at least. But he turns his head, eyes widening.

"N-No, I haven't! I mean... I have a little bit, yeah, but I have so much stuff going on. Romance isn't really up there on that list," Izuku says with a nervous smile, scooting back on the bed to sit up fully, legs crossed. His curls are a mess, and my fingers itch to reach out and fix them. "...That kind of thing just isn't that important to me. It's not like I'm 'dancing around it.' I just... I don't know."

I shrug, biting my lip as I avoid his eyes. Maybe because I know I'm about to say something stupid again. "So you aren't into her?" It comes out softer than I wanted it to. Almost a little desperate. I hate it.

Izuku pauses, and I bite down on my lip harder. Fuck. "...I don't know. I don't know what it's supposed to really feel like, I guess. I mean... she's pretty. I know that," he says, clearly all shy and awkward, fidgeting.

I nod slowly, staring down at my lap. That kind of makes my stomach sink. Maybe it shouldn't. Maybe I'm selfish. I dunno. But I can at least say something. Can't I? I take a deep breath. "...You feel like how you do now. Nervous as shit. So... you're probably into her."

He blinks rapidly, mouth falling open. He huffs breathlessly, barely managing a nervous laugh this time around. "I-I think my point is that I don't want to change anything anyway. Not right now. Right now, she's my friend. Friend, not girlfriend. And right now, that feels fine. Not complicated. Y'know?"

I finally manage to look back up at him, a little of that weight lifting from my stomach and chest. Maybe I can say something right this time. "...Yeah. I get it. I mean... sometimes I think..." I hesitate, biting down on the inside of my cheek before committing. "...what's the point in girlfriends... when I have you?"

Izuku stares back, his eyes widening. His cheeks start turning that incredibly bright pink, and then my words finally start to register. Shit.

But honestly, it doesn't matter to me anymore. Not when I see the nervous but blindingly bright smile that lights up Izuku's whole face. He chuckles softly, eyes crinkling and not even darting away from mine like they usually do when I slip up like that. I've been slipping up more lately.

"Yeah," Izuku says softly, barely above a whisper, nodding. "I-I think that, too."

I finally tear my eyes off of him. I'm going back to my dorm soon. But if I keep looking at him, I might not leave at all.

Chapter Text

It’s after midnight. Maybe closer to one. I don’t know, and I don’t care. The dorm’s dead quiet, all the other lights in the building probably off by now. I should’ve gone back to my room hours ago, but I didn’t. I never really do anymore. Izuku’s bed is warmer than mine, and I think we both have started to realize we can't sleep alone anymore. Not when we spend most nights together now.

We’re both lying on our backs now, side by side, arms brushing every once in a while when one of us shifts. The covers are bunched around our waists, one of Izuku’s All Might plushies squashed beneath my elbow. His breath is slow and steady. He’s not asleep. Neither am I.

We’d been talking for hours until now. About patrols, teachers, even the deep shit that we normally avoid, especially when we're alone together. Then nothing. Silence. It’s not uncomfortable. It’s not anything, really. Just quiet.

But then Izuku turns his head.

I can feel it more than I can see it, his eyes on me. I hold out for a second before I cave and turn my head too, eyes meeting his in the dim light from his desk lamp. It’s still on— we never turned it off. Guess we never really intended on falling asleep tonight.

It should feel weird to me. Uncomfortable. Lying in bed, staring at each other like this. But it doesn’t. It just feels… still. Like we’re holding something between us. Something invisible and heavy and unspeakable. I’m about to break eye contact, about to say something stupid to cut through the tension.

And then he moves.

Subtle. Barely noticeable. But I can see it. His eyes flick to my mouth for just a second. And then he leans in.

My breath stutters in my throat. It’s not fast or frantic, it’s slow, hesitant. Careful. Like he’s testing the waters, unsure if I’ll pull away or scream or hit him. I don't dare to make a single move. My chest tightens and my mouth goes dry. My heart is pounding so loud I’m scared he can hear it.

He gets close. So fucking close, I can feel the warmth of his breath brushing against my lips. And then—

He stops.

I see it the second it hits him. The realization of what he’s doing, of what almost just happened. His eyes widen, and his entire body jerks like I hit him or something.

“I– shit, I—” he stammers, already scrambling backward. He practically falls off the bed trying to put distance between us. His hand flies to his mouth, like he’s trying to physically stop himself from saying or doing anything else. “I didn’t– I didn't mean to– Kacchan, i-it's not like that.”

I sit up slowly, still stunned. The space between us feels too wide now, and now his room feels a lot colder. I blink at him. I’m not mad. Not even close. But my throat feels tight, and I can’t seem to say anything yet.

“I didn’t mean to make it weird,” he says quickly, eyes darting everywhere except at me. “I didn't... I wasn't going to..."

“…Don’t,” I finally manage. My voice is lower than usual, hoarse like I’ve been yelling. “It's fine."

He looks up at me, startled. His cheeks are flushed, his breathing uneven. I swallow hard and look away. “It’s not… it’s not a big deal.” That's a lie. It is a big deal. It really is.

Izuku nods quickly, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me. It's obvious. He tucks himself underneath the covers, keeping a careful distance from me now. Extremely careful, like he's afraid he's going to get close again without even trying.

We aren't talking anymore, and this silence is so much different.

But I don’t leave, and he doesn’t ask me to go.

So I lay back down and stare at the ceiling. All I can think about is how warm his breath felt. How close he got. And how badly I wish he hadn’t pulled away.

Chapter Text

We walk down the hill together towards the dorms. It’s just the two of us. Most of the class already left earlier, and the sun’s starting to dip low in the sky, making everything gold and pinkish. I’ve never cared about stuff like scenery, but it is pretty, watching the leaves and petals flutter in the air from the trees.

Izuku walks beside me, his worn yellow backpack slung over one shoulder, hair messy from the wind. His sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, and he keeps reaching up to push his curls out of his face every few seconds. His hair is getting long.

The breeze picks up, stronger this time. It rustles through the trees and sends a flurry of small pink blossoms spinning in the air.

I didn’t even notice the trees were blooming again. I’ve walked this road every damn day. But most the time, whenever I do, it's with Izuku. And my eyes are always on him.

He laughs. That kind of laugh that comes from deep in his chest. Bright. Real. His eyes squint a little, and he turns his face up toward the sky like he’s trying to catch the blossoms with his cheeks. For a second, I don’t walk. I just stand there. Watching. Petals getting caught in his hair, his cheeks and nose a little pink from the cold air blowing at him.

He's beautiful.

I’ve always known that. But it just keeps catching me off guard every time. Like my brain is trying to deny it.

He turns back to face me, still grinning, still glowing like he’s made of sunlight. “Did you see that?”

“…Yeah,” I mutter, finally snapping out of it and catching up. “Hard to miss it when you’re twirlin' around like a goddamn Disney princess.”

He laughs softly again and nudges my arm with his elbow. "I wasn't twirling around." I roll my eyes. He was. Not that I'm really complaining.

We keep walking, the petals still falling around us. The dorms are close now. I can see the lights on in the windows of the commons room. But I don’t want to go in. Not just yet.

The words come out before I decide to say them. “...I’m glad we’re friends.”

I say it casually, but it feels like something heavier. Something I’ve been meaning to say for a while but just couldn’t find the right time.

Izuku slows a little. I catch the way he blinks at me, like I startled him. Something flickers across his face— pleased, yeah, but also something else. Something softer. Sadder? I don't know. I've never really seen that look on him before.

“Yeah,” he says, voice low and warm. “Me too, Kacchan.”

Our hands brush. It's barely noticeable, but I feel the jolt all the way up my arm. Neither of us pulls away.

We don’t hold hands. But we don’t move apart either.

We just keep walking. Blossoms at our feet, sun dipping lower, wind carrying petals around us like we’re in some kind of dream. I don’t want to wake up.

But maybe I should. Maybe it’s better this way, where I just let moments like these pass without another thought. Like a normal friend would.

Yeah. Friends. Not complicated. Easy. Normal. Just friends.

…Still... I kind of wish I’d said more.

Chapter Text

The dorm’s quieter than I’ve ever heard it since I've been at UA. Most of the class crashed early, probably trying to get enough sleep for tomorrow. The big day. Caps, gowns, speeches… it doesn't even feel real. Honestly, I still feel 13.

When I pass by the front entrance on my way to the kitchen, I see Izuku through the glass door. He's sitting out on the steps, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, staring up at the sky.

I don’t think about it, I just push open the door and step outside. The evening spring air hits me, cool on my skin. He glances at me when I sit beside him, then turns back to the stars.

“What’s on your mind?” I ask, my voice quiet enough that hopefully it doesn’t feel like I’m intruding.

For a while, Izuku doesn’t speak. Just stares up at the stars like they're going to answer for him. Then, softly, “…I’m scared.”

I frown. “Of what?”

He exhales, slow, like it’s an effort to get the words out. “…Of what’s next. Of… not knowing what I’m supposed to do now.” He laughs under his breath, but there's no humor in it. There's nothing there, really. "Everyone’s gonna go off and be heroes, and I’m… not. I’ll be watching from the sidelines. I’m gonna have to see you all living the dream I wanted so badly, and I was almost there. I had it, I lived it. I..."

His voice falters, like he never meant to say anything at all. He shakes his head. “It’s not a big deal. I know. I’ll... figure something out."

“Don’t give me that,” I say, sharper than I meant it to be. He looks over at me, startled, and I lean back a little, softening my voice. “One for All might not even be gone. You’ve still got the embers, right? That means something.”

He doesn’t answer. He just stares at me with that glassy look in his eyes, the one that says he’s already decided not to believe me. I wish he would.

I grit my teeth and place my hand on his shoulder carefully. "Look… no matter what happens, no matter how shitty things get… I’m gonna be by your side. Got it?”

His eyes shine with so many things. Hope, pain, disbelief, fear. And then the tears finally spill over.

The first sob escapes before he can bite it back, and it's so gut wrenching that I don’t think.

I just grab him. My arms wrap around his shoulders, and I pull him in and cradling the back of his head while his forehead presses into my neck. He clutches the back of my hoodie like he’s drowning. His shoulders shake against me, and I just hold him tighter.

I don’t care how long we sit here. I’m not letting go until his eyes are dry. With every quiet, choked sob he fails to hold back, it gets clearer in my head.

I’m going to do whatever the fuck it takes to make sure he's happy.

And if there’s even the smallest chance that I can give him his dream back, I’m taking it. No matter what.

Chapter Text

Izuku's apartment is small, about as big as a twenty year old can afford. There's barely enough room to stretch your arms above your head, but I stay here more nights than I do at my own place. His papers are spread all over the coffee table. Lesson plans, notes, highlighters bleeding neon across the pages. He’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, bent over them intently.

"I think the most important step is building confidence, especially when it comes to first years," he mutters, scribbling across a sheet of paper, then looks over at me like he's making sure I'm still listening. "I think it'll be great. Really great. I'm really excited, honestly."

I nod, leaning back in his crappy desk chair that I dragged over to sit by him. “Yeah. You’ll be good at it.”

He lights up with a smile, letting out a quick, happy huff of air. He turns back to the papers and points to his lesson plan with his pen, like I needed any more convincing. "See? I'll get to stay close to everyone. That's good."

I stare at him. Not at the paper he's pointing at so aggressively. Right at him and his stupid nervous grin. Bullshit. I hate it when he does that. When he tries to convince me that he's doing alright. I've seen the way he looks out the window when pros fly by on buildings overhead. Same type of longing I find myself feeling too.

I should probably bite my tongue, because I know, I'm selfish. That's what I want. Maybe he really is happy like this. Sitting at a clanky wooden desk, yammering on and on to a bunch of kids. Maybe I'm seeing myself in his eyes every time. But I can't keep my damn mouth shut at the idea of him being unsatisfied.

"You know," I say, and now that it's out, it's not going back in. "It's not too late. It never will be. You're still you, Izuku."

He looks back up at me quickly, his pen stalling in its insistent tapping on the paper. The air shifts completely, and he looks caught off guard completely. Like I said some forbidden secret I was never supposed to know.

He whips his head away from me just as fast, shaking his head. "Kacchan," he says, so firmly that it slams its way into my chest. "Don't. You know it's not like that anymore."

The words sting my eyes a little, but I lean back as casually as I can, my jaw tightening. "Fine."

He continues his scribbling, his shoulders much tenser than they once were. He doesn't believe what he's saying any more than I do, does he? It doesn't seem like it. That doesn't really matter.

I can see it. And I'm not going to say it, not yet. But every shift, every patrol, every yen saved, it’s all going into one thing. All to him and his dream, that never fading fire that has flames so strong they've left my hands numb to the scorching pain, reaching out to hold it closer and cherish it, no matter the consequences.

He speaks again, but the words blur in my brain. I’m still thinking about the way he looked at me just now. Like for one split second, he almost let himself believe me. Like maybe he wanted to.

I can live with him pulling back for now. Hurts like hell, but I can live with it. Because I don't care about now. I only care about that moment. The moment where I can see that smile come back for real.

For now, I'll be right here. Waiting.

Chapter Text

The apartment door shuts behind me with a heavy click, and the silence that follows is suffocating. Patrol was long, dull, empty of anything worth remembering. My muscles ache and my chest feels heavy, and it’s not the kind of tired that makes me proud. It’s the kind that makes me wonder why I even bother.

I throw my boots off at the door and drag myself towards the bathroom. I stare into the mirror above the sink as it reflects back someone who looks like me but feels too far away to even touch. My costume is dirty, sweat and dust clinging to the fabric, my hair sticking out in every direction.

Piece by piece, I strip it off. Gauntlets first, then belt, shoulder guards, all of it. They clatter onto the floor. I don't even feel that much lighter. I lean against the sink, staring at my reflection.

My torso is bare now, all ugly lines and burns, reminders of every hit I couldn't dodge. One large stitch in the middle of my chest. The thought that bubbles up makes me not want to look at myself at all.

What if he was here?

Would he see something else? Would he look at them like they meant strength, survival, proof that I kept moving forward? Would he even find me attractive?

I imagine his eyes on me, soft, following every line of my body. His breath catching. His hand reaching out to touch me without any hesitation.

The thought hits me hard enough that I grip the sink to steady myself.

“Pathetic,” I mutter under my breath, glaring at my own reflection. My voice sounds harsh in the empty room. But I know that won't make any of the thoughts go away.

Because I want him to see me. All of me, in the same way that I see him. Beautiful, raw, real.

Every time I look at Izuku, I see someone untouchable. Not because he’s perfect, but because he’s so much more than that. He’s kind, brilliant, stubborn, beautiful from the inside out. Every scar on his body is incredible to me, a reminder of his strength. And whenever I see his face, all I can think is how unfair it is that he can’t see himself the way I do.

Would he ever look at me like that? Would he call me beautiful? Would he touch me without being afraid?

The mirror offers nothing back. Just my own exhausted face, my body bare and scarred and still untouched.

I turn off the light and stalk into my bedroom. The sheets are freezing cold as I crawl in, and the empty space beside me feels like a whole sea of distance.

I close my eyes and dream.

Chapter Text

We were inseparable.

Me and Izuku, four year olds, running down the block, chasing each other until our lungs burned, until our knees were scraped raw. Me pulling him up when he fell, him smiling up at me like I was the most incredible person in the world.

It's been a long time since then, since I could give a big grin right back to him without a second thought. It's not easy anymore. Nothing is.

We were sitting on the curb outside the park, waiting for Inko to come back so she could take us back to Izuku's house. I'd come to know Izuku's house like it was my own. We both kicked at pebbles and ants on the concrete with little feet, chubby hands holding each others. It was natural for us. I always dragged him around everywhere I went, and Izuku was always happy to follow. We were always holding hands.

I turned my head away from the ground when I heard whispers and laughs from behind me. I got picked on a lot when I was little, so I'd gotten used to that sound. I was ready to bite.

"That's so funny, oh my god," one girl said, way older than me and Izuku. The older boy beside her looked a lot less amused. He looked at us like we had just killed someone. He locked eyes with me, and he spoke, much louder than the girl. "Faggot."

I froze. Izuku turned his head around, eyes wide and confused. Neither of us knew what that meant, but we could both hear the disdain in it enough to be scared.

"What?" Izuku said softly, squeezing my hand tighter.

"You shouldn't be holding hands," the boy said, practically spitting. "You're not boyfriend and girlfriend. Boys can't do that. It's wrong."

Me and Izuku both stared at them, wide eyed and nervous. For once, I didn't really have a smart-ass comeback like I usually had prepared for the older asshole kids. When I did speak, it was shaky. "Shut up," I spat, but it wasn't because I was angry. No, I was afraid. That's why, without a second thought, I let go of Izuku's hand like it burnt me.

Izuku looked at me instantly, eyebrows furrowing. Normally, I'd have stood up and given those kids that were at least a foot and a half taller than me a piece of my mind. But my eyes were quickly burning with tears that I knew I couldn't get to go away if I looked at those kids again, so I just whipped my head away, praying they'd leave. They did.

After a few silent moments, my tears brimming my eyes, I dared to look at Izuku. He was crying, tears streaming down his face, staring down at his feet. I didn't say anything again.

He didn't understand why I didn't want to hold his hand anymore. Or why I never held his hand again. I refused to let him hug me. I started being a dickhead.

Because apparently, since I liked to hold Izuku's hand, I was a faggot. And I didn't want to be one of those anymore.

Chapter Text

The restaurant buzzes with laughter, clinking glasses, and the hum of voices I haven’t heard all together in years. For a while, it almost feels like we never left UA. Like we’re still kids at the dorms, killing time before curfew.

Except I’m not a kid anymore. I’m a pro hero, ranked fifteenth in Japan. Supposedly one of the best. And still, I feel like I’m the same stupid teenager I’ve always been. Because no matter how much I try to distract myself— the chatter, the food, the drinks— my eyes always draw right back to where they’ve always stayed.

Izuku.

Even sitting right beside me, he feels miles away. I can tell by the way his gaze drifts, unfocused, that he isn’t really here. That far-off, soft look in his eyes is the same one I know lives in mine. Except he’s not looking at me.

He’s staring across the room. At her.

Uraraka’s cheeks are flushed, head tilted back as she laughs at something Tsuyu just said. She looks happy. And Izuku looks at her like she’s the only thing in the room worth noticing.

I can’t keep watching. Not when every second feels like I’m being carved open.

So I sit there the whole night, pretending to listen, pretending to laugh at jokes that barely register, my throat tight with the words I can’t say. The words I already did say, in the car on the way here. “Giving special treatment to everyone means no one is really special to you.”

I’d meant it as a confession of sorts. A truth I couldn’t hide anymore. But to him, it was nothing. Just words. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything at all. It meant more to me than it ever could to him. I think most things do.

Hours pass. We’re pulled away halfway through by an urgent call for help, routine for pro heroes, but still enough to drag us into the streets in suits we’d hoped to leave behind for one night. I went through the motions. But I felt off. Sluggish. Like I was fumbling my way through someone else's life, not my own.

By the time we return, everyone’s worn out. The crowd thins quickly, classmates hugging each other goodbye, promising to do this again soon. Empty promises, because everyone's busy these days. Everyone’s lives are moving forward.

I linger on the sidewalk outside, the cool night air brushing against my face. My chest feels hollow, like something important’s been scooped out and left behind.

Then Izuku turns to me.

His smile stretches across his whole face, that same damn smile that’s undone me since we were kids. It aches to look at it, because I know it isn’t for me. Not really.

I can’t even find it in myself to smile back.

He raises his hand, waving, his voice bright. “Bye, Kacchan! See you!”

I raise my own hand halfheartedly, the other shoved deep in my pocket to hide its shaking. “See you.”

And then he turns his back on me.

It’s the same image burned into every dream I’ve ever had of him. My only dream. His back facing me as he walks away. No matter how wide my strides, no matter how fast I run, I can never catch up. And now, my feet are planted to the ground, too heavy to move. Maybe I don’t want to anymore. Maybe I can’t. Does it even matter?

The streetlights glare down, too bright, blinding my eyes until they blur with the tears rising in my eyes. Izuku’s form smears into the gold glow, fading step by step into the distance.

My cheeks are wet before I realize I’m crying. A sob shudders its way out and I clamp my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. My shoulders curl inward, body folding in on itself like paper. I press hard against my lips, desperate to cover up the noises, desperate not to let anyone see me like this. Katsuki Bakugou, number fifteen pro hero, crying like a sorry little child in the middle of the street.

What’s wrong with me?

Why can’t I leave him be?

He doesn’t want this.

He doesn’t want me.

I force my eyes open again, peeking through the blur like I’m watching something too horrifying to bear.

He's already gone.

Chapter Text

The café we sit in is warm and cozy, a nice, romantic spot I chose for escaping a rainy day like this. Now that we're sitting here, for some reason, it doesn't feel romantic. I guess my expectations have always been a little too high. Uraraka sits across from me, chin propped in her hand, telling me about her last rescue shift. Her smile flickers when she talks about the little girl she pulled from the wreckage. She still gets emotional about those things, even after all these years. I do too.

I nod, smile, laugh at the right moments. I stir my sweet tea idly, the one I didn't want, but ordered because my mind is so scrambled I just blurted the first thing I saw on the drinks section on the menu.

My mind isn’t here. It hasn’t been here in a week and a half, because Kacchan hasn't answered my calls or my texts.

He promised to guest teach my class last week. He told them he’d talk about how he manages to maintain mobility, even when he damages the battlefield with his quirk. They’d been counting down the days. I did too. Seeing him in the doorway of the classroom, even unprompted, didn't exasperate me nearly as much as it made my whole chest lighter. And when the day came, we waited, checking the clock every ten minutes. He didn't show.

He didn't call. Didn't text. Didn't send a message through Aizawa or Shoto. Nothing.

Since then, every text, every call, has gone unanswered. I can't stop thinking about it.

Is he hurt? Did something happen to him? Did I do something wrong?

My stomach twists, because part of me knows it’s probably that last one, even though I don't really understand why.

Our relationship hasn't been strained like this since we were teenagers. Even when we've gotten into little arguments over the last few years, we'd bounce back. We've both changed so much. That's why I'm so terrified. What could I have done to make him ignore me and distance himself again?

"—then I realized, she was only about five, so she didn't know how gravity really works," Uraraka says with a laugh. I blink, realizing she just told a whole story while I was spacing out.

She must've noticed how lost I look, because she gives me a curious, slightly worried look.

"Are you okay? You've been kind of quiet today."

I shake my head quickly, a wide smile stretching onto my face. "Ah— sorry! I was just, um... I was thinking about work. My students have been a lot lately."

She doesn't seem to really buy it, but she doesn't push, and that's what matters. She smiles faintly, picking at her food. "You're always so caught up in your work, Deku. Must be hard."

I laugh awkwardly, not really knowing what to say to that. "Yeah. Uh— I'm sorry, that was rude of me. Keep going, please."

She nods, picking her story back up again. I follow along for about ten seconds before my brain trails off again.

Kacchan, ignoring me. Kacchan, possibly upset about something I said or did. Kacchan, pulling away from me.

It's hell. The thought that he might be upset makes my chest hurt. The thought that he might just be done with me? That's unbearable.

I scold myself, shifting in my chair. You're on a date, Izuku, focus. She's right there, for god sakes. She likes you, and you like her. She looks beautiful. Tell her she looks beautiful. This is what people have always said just makes sense.

We've known each other since we were fifteen, and we clicked almost immediately. We’re both single, both pro heroes, both close. It makes sense. Everyone’s told us for years that we should be together. Mina practically lost her mind when she found out we were going out, like she won the lottery.

A week and a half ago, we agreed to try pursuing something romantic. We’re not officially dating, but we’ve been out a few times. She’s beautiful. She’s warm. She's lovely. She deserves someone’s full attention— someone’s heart.

I'm starting to think my heart isn't capable of loving someone romantically at all.

Because I'm here, in front of a beautiful girl, on a date. And I'm thinking about Kacchan.

By the time I walk her home, the air outside has cooled. We walk side by side, talking about nothing. We're actually mostly quiet, awkwardly so, which is unusual for us.

When we reach her apartment building, she turns to me. “I had a really nice time tonight.”

"Me too," I say, with another immediate smile. It flickers, though. Because I realize I've been standing here for a while. Just staring at her. And she's looking at me too, not expectant, but unsure. Like she doesn't know what to do next. Like going inside isn't the next reasonable step.

Why is she looking at me? Is she waiting for something? Is there some kind of etiquette I'm forgetting?

...Oh.

I swallow thickly, something weird rising in my throat. I should kiss her goodnight, shouldn't I?

Shakily, I take a step forward, getting close to her. She blinks at me, like she wasn't expecting this, even though I thought this is what she was waiting on. I guess it doesn't matter, does it? It's what I should do. She took the time out of her day to go out with me. I should show I'm grateful. I should show that I like her. This is the only way I really know how.

Except the only way I know how, I've never even tried. Not once in my life.

It's a little embarrassing, at twenty five years old. I've never even kissed a girl. I guess I'm about to learn.

I lean down to her level, squeezing my eyes shut. I can hear her breath hitch. My eyes briefly burst open because our noses bumped while she was shifting, and we both stare at each other for a second, awkward.

I don't give up. I continue leaning down, closing my eyes again, pausing with a little jolt as our lips just briefly touch. Then I commit, pressing my lips down and kissing her. Her hands stay at her sides, and I can feel her eyelashes on my skin as she blinks.

I don't stay there for long. I lean back, standing up straight. It was only about a second or two long. Two is probably pushing it.

She looks up at me, eyes wide and unreadable. "Um," she murmurs, breathless. "Thank you."

Before I can really say anything, not that I know what I would say, she steps back towards the door and fumbles with her keys. "Goodnight, Deku."

"Goodnight," I mumble, barely above a whisper.

The door shuts.

I’m left standing there, staring at the empty space where she was, my heart thudding in my ears.

That was my first kiss.

I’ve imagined it for eleven years. Ever since I was fourteen, when I watched movies where people kissed like it was the most magical thing in the world. I used to wonder what it would feel like.

It was described like some kind of dream, a magical experience. Fireworks in your ears, fluttering in your stomach, your heart banging against your chest.

It wasn't like that. I can't really describe it at all, because I don't know what it was.

It wasn't bad. It just wasn't anything at all.

I stand there long after she's gone, replaying the kiss in my head. I replay the brush of lips, trying to recall that pumping in my ears, my hands sweating. I was nervous, like I imagined I'd be. But that doesn't really explain why my chest is hollow instead of full.

She’s a beautiful girl. My best friend. Kind. Brave. There’s no reason to feel strange about it. It was a kiss, and that doesn't change anything. We're still... whatever we are. Maybe that's just how kissing is. People in the movies lied. It's a brush of lips that makes you nauseous and shaky, one that feels just okay. Maybe the more you do it, the better you feel.

I stand there for way, way too long, trying to rationalize a kiss with a girl in my mind. Trying to understand how I feel. No matter how long I ruminate, I can't. I don't know.

I turn on my heel, finally picking up my heavy feet and walking away, back to my apartment. It's pretty close to hers.

Kacchan's apartment is close.

The sound of his voice echoes faintly in my head, quiet and heavy.

“Giving special treatment to everyone means no one is really special to you.”

I hadn’t understood what he meant then.

But now, practically dragging myself down the stairs of Uraraka's apartment complex, I think I might be starting to get it.

I need to see him.