Archive of Our Own

They’re fifteen, fresh out of junior high, and completely, hopelessly lovestruck idiots.

Look at Dabi, for instance—dragged himself to school only for the very last class. And not for the sake of “important knowledge,” oh no. He came just to stare at Keigo. Blondie never skips class, though. His dad would beat him at home if he did . And anyway, school’s better than home. At least nobody hits you here .

But Todoroki? He skips all the time. He’s a hundred percent sure he’ll ace the tests anyway. And his dad doesn’t give a damn about truancy. He won’t even notice the kid until his precious son pulls off something truly criminal and on a grand scale.

The fact remains: Dabi comes to school for Takami. To sit by his side in class. To hang out with him after school, or at least walk him home. To talk, even about nothing. To just look at that sweet little face. Maybe he should show up to class more often—if only for the sake of Takami’s bright smile.

Since when did something light settle inside Todoroki’s dark soul? Since when does that light peek out more and more whenever he hears his voice, sees his face, just knows he’s somewhere nearby? Since when does it swell inside him like this? Since when does his heart pound so loudly? Since when do butterflies turn his stomach upside down? Since when has he been feeling this ?

And since when does the ever-sociable Keigo prefer Dabi’s company over everyone else’s whenever His Highness actually deigns to show up to class? Since when does he greet him like an overexcited pet? Since when does he spin circles around him, chattering about everything that happened at school while he was gone? In fact, since when does he orbit Todoroki like a little sun, flapping about everything under the heavens? Since when has Takami acted like that ?

***

Keigo looks ridiculously grateful the moment you feed him. Seriously. Those golden eyes light up with tiny sparks of thankfulness, and he’s so happy you’d think he’d just been handed a shiny graduation medal instead of, well, a sandwich.

At first, Todoroki shoves one into his neighbor’s hands, joking that he’s skinny as a heron. Takami doesn’t take offense, just lets the joke slide. He accepts the food and flashes a grateful smile. And that smile—so genuine—it hits Dabi sideways, short-circuiting something inside his head.

He wants to take care of Keigo. He wants to see that thankful face more often.

At some point, the dark-haired boy catches himself staring at the blond’s lips. They’re just… inviting. He shakes the thought off, annoyed. But then Keigo licks his lips, and Todoroki’s gaze gets magnetized all over again, only stronger this time—no shaking it off now.

“What?” Takami asks, catching the stare.

“Chew it properly,” Dabi shoots back in rhyme, “Don’t clack your beak, little chick.”

The blond only shrugs and keeps eating like nothing happened.

Todoroki finds himself feeding Keigo more and more often. At this point… is it fair to joke he’s got himself a tame little bird? Uh… a chick?

***

“So, what’s next?” Dabi asks, bored out of his skull.

He never cared about the schedule. Physics? Math? Language? Whatever. Who gives a damn.

“Literature,” Keigo answers quickly. “Oh, and we’ve got a sub today, our teacher’s sick. Remember I told you?”

Todoroki nods. Takami grins wider—because Dabi always remembers the random stuff Keigo babbles about.

“Some old granny’s gonna cover,” the blond adds. “I told you about her once. Her name was, uh…”

“Doesn’t matter what her name is,” the dark-haired boy cuts in lazily.  “You said she’s boring as hell.”

Takami nods furiously. And inside? He’s bursting. Touya—oops, too personal—Dabi remembers. He remembers everything Keigo tells him. And every time that thought hits, it floods the blond with fresh waves of joy.

“Then I’m napping” Dabi says, sliding down onto the desk.

He closes his eyes, hands tucked under his head.

“Sweet dreams” Keigo says kindly.

“Thanks” the dark-haired one mutters into his arm.

Keigo props his elbow on the desk, resting his cheek in his hand, just staring. Admiring. Taking in the relaxed face of Touya—damn it, there he goes crossing that line again. Dabi’s face. Every freckle on it. Every piercing glinting against that sharp profile. Every lash—girlishly long, by the way. He wants to touch it all. The piercings, the freckles, the lashes. Preferably with his lips. But for now, he only allows himself the luxury of looking.

Suddenly, Dabi frowns. Keigo hurriedly wipes the starry-eyed look off his face—just in time, because Todoroki’s eyes are already open.

“It’s uncomfortable” the dark-haired boy mutters, pushing himself up from the desk.

He shoots his neighbor a loaded glance.

“Move” Dabi says.

“Move where?” Takami asks, confused.

Don’t push me away, Touya, his inner voice pleads miserably. And there it is again— Touya. Forget it, Keigo. Too personal. You can’t call him that. No one gave you that right. And you know exactly how Dabi feels about it.

“Just slide your chair back and to the right,” Todoroki explains. “And take yourself with it.”

Takami obediently scoots over, the chair legs screeching against the floor. He nearly bumps into the cabinet at the back of the classroom. Of course. Where else would Dabi sit? Hint: the back row. And Keigo? Well, where Keigo sits doesn’t matter—only with whom . Hint: with Dabi.

Todoroki goes to snag a third chair, straight-up stealing it from the pair next to them. He ignores the annoyed classmate. Who cares? The guy’s sitting alone anyway, what does he need two chairs for? The blond still doesn’t get what Dabi’s up to. Then Dabi plunks the third chair right between them.

Keigo tilts his head to the side, birdlike, curiosity written all over him. His signature move. Todoroki loves that. Because in those moments, it’s impossible not to stare at the little blond bird.

Then Dabi sits back down, turns his back on Takami, and stretches out across the two chairs. He lays his head right on Keigo’s knees.

Something inside Keigo’s chest lurches at the sight of Touya—no, Dabi—resting his head in his lap.

“Comfy now?” the blond asks sweetly.

“Way better,” Todoroki replies from below. “If anyone asks—I’m not here. I’m gone.”

“Off to dreamland?” Keigo teases.

Dabi smirks.

“Exactly” he says, eyes sliding shut.

The back row is staring. The whole class is whispering. And the two of them? Couldn’t care less. Dabi just naps on Keigo’s lap, while Keigo resists the insane urge to bury his fingers in that dark hair. Todoroki looks stupidly cute when he’s asleep.

By the middle of class, it’s not just Dabi. Half the room is losing the battle against sleep. Spoiler: sleep is winning. Their substitute really is that boring. Keigo forces himself to stay awake, zoning out at the teacher. He needs something—anything—to keep his brain from shutting down. He taps the desk soundlessly. He takes his pen apart, then puts it back together. He flips through the textbook. He props his cheek on one hand, staring at the clock like it owes him money. The other hand… is still restless.

It’s only after a foggy second that Keigo realizes what it found. His fingers. In someone’s hair. On his knees. Touya’s—no, not Touya, Dabi’s head. He’s absentmindedly twining his fingers through the strands.

He realizes it the moment he feels the softness of the hair against his skin. Keigo freezes. Then he darts a nervous glance down at Dabi. The touch has woken him. Takami swallows hard. Did he just cross a line?

But Todoroki looks perfectly calm. Peaceful, even. He closes his eyes again without a word.

Well, if that’s the case… Keigo isn’t exactly rushing to pull his hand away.

***

“Hey, get over here,” Takami orders, all bossy.

Dabi’s barely stepped into the classroom—thank god it’s during break and not in the middle of class like sometimes—when he’s immediately called over. Not like he’d sit anywhere else anyway. Please. As if Todoroki would ever pick another seat.

He drops into his usual spot, shooting Keigo a raised-brow look like, yeah? what’s up?

The blond cups his face in his hands and tilts it this way and that, inspecting him like a jeweler with a diamond. Don’t blush, don’t blush. God, cheeks, behave. The last thing they need is to officially crown themselves the class’s gay couple. They’re not a couple. At least, that’s what Touya tells himself.

Truth is, Dabi couldn’t care less about what classmates think. Public opinion? Screw it. But Keigo—Touya figures Keigo minds more. Reality check: Keigo’s not that worried about the classmates. What really makes his stomach twist is the thought of this getting back to his father. Because that man was never famous for kindness. More like for… “discipline.” Let’s call his fists that, shall we? As if he’s ever needed an excuse. Ha.

“Woooah,” Keigo blurts out loud. “So I wasn’t imagining it! You got new piercings!”

Of course he noticed. Practically the second Dabi walked in. Little magpie.

The dark-haired boy smirks. Keigo noticed. Just that fact alone warms something in his chest.

“Yep,” he confirms. “Sharp eyes, birdie.”

To his three silver rings, the skull, and the cross, he’s now added a little silver crescent moon. Against the skull and cross, it looks kinda random, honestly. Like, good luck finding a logical pattern. But hey—Keigo’s eyes are shining, so who cares.

“Looks really good on you,” Keigo says softly, still turning his face from side to side. “I like it.”

And he really does. He’s openly staring. Admiring. And why not? There’s a perfectly valid excuse. Dabi feels the tiniest flicker of embarrassment from the attention, but no point denying it’s… nice.

“You really are a magpie,” Todoroki mutters. “Obsessed with shiny crap. Careful you don’t snatch it.”

“Pfft.” Keigo rolls his eyes. “What kind of monster would I be if I robbed you of your beauty?”

The blond finally lets go of his face, but his gaze stays glued to the new sparkle (okay, fine—to Dabi).

“So, what about you?” Todoroki asks, tapping his piercing. “Ever wanted something like this?”

“Maybe earrings,” Keigo says thoughtfully. “Not as many as you, of course, but one pair would be nice. Although… nah. Dad wouldn’t approve.”

That last part hits Todoroki like a punch. ‘Dad wouldn’t approve.’ The phrase he’s been choking on for half his life.

“Wanna know my advice?” Dabi says, then answers himself: “Tell him to fuck off.”

Keigo smiles—but it’s that sad kind of smile. His dad’s the type to beat him with or without a reason. Giving him a “real” excuse would just make it worse. Truth is, the bastard doesn’t need an excuse. He just wants someone to unload his rage on.

“I’d love to, but it won’t fly,” Takami says quietly. “So, no piercings or shiny stuff for me. Guess I’ll just keep staring at yours.”

And despite the words, he turns his face away, cheeks flushing pink.

***

Keigo’s in no rush to confess his dumb, pure, utterly hopeless crush. Because he’s the one here who’s gay, already fallen hard for the school’s resident delinquent. And Dabi? He’s got that reputation—cool guy, bad boy. And, unfortunately, not 100% of bad boys are gay.

Show Takami some stats, please. A neat little pie chart of ‘guys like Dabi’ vs. ‘guys who swing his way’ (or bi, or pan, hell, anything to bump those odds). He’d squint at the numbers, estimate the probability, maybe even calculate the risk of getting spat on if he misjudges.

But since no such chart exists, he’ll just keep enjoying their friendship, the closeness, the stolen moments.

***

“Here” Dabi says, holding out a bag of chips to his desk partner.

“Thanks!” Keigo beams, plunging his hand in like he’s been starving for days.

That gratitude radiates off him—huge, unfiltered. And something about it makes Dabi’s chest ache in the most annoying, pleasant way. Like he wants to keep watching that happy face forever.

“You never share with us!” a classmate complains from the next row.

“You didn’t earn it” Todoroki snaps back, scowling.

Yeah, this limited-edition generosity? One-person membership only.

Keigo practically glows brighter. Guess what does that to a person—chips. Or maybe just… the person who handed them over .

***

Dabi stops to pet a cat. Hard not to notice how much this guy loves them.

"Such a tough guy," Keigo teases, "and yet you can’t pass a single cat without reaching out to pet it."

"Only dumbasses hate cats," Dabi replies, stroking the fluffy creature. "My old man, for example. But that one’s obvious. If he ever got a pet, it’d be some giant rabid mutt. I don’t like dogs. You know that."

Keigo remembers the story. Back when little Dabi—no, stop, Keigo isn’t the one allowed to call him Touya —was bitten by a dog while riding his bike. He ended up stuck in the hospital for a whole day and night. Lucky it wasn’t rabid.

Keigo quietly snaps a picture of Dabi with the cat, then crouches down beside them.

"Would you want a cat of your own?" he asks.

"Yeah," Dabi answers quickly, still petting the content little beast. "I’d get one in a heartbeat. But my old man would kick the cat out—and me too, in like ten minutes. Not that it scares me. I just don’t wanna leave my little siblings alone with him."

Keigo reaches out to pet the cat too, but the creature pulls away with an annoyed flick of its tail. Cats… always so damn self-willed.

"Eh," Keigo sighs, "they don’t like me."

"You’re a chick," Dabi says flatly. "So, nothing surprising."

"Guess you’re right," Keigo agrees with a small smile.

At least he can admire Touya—no, Dabi —with a cat in his lap. Not a bad alternative. Actually, a perfect one.

***

"So your natural hair color is red," Keigo says curiously.

Dabi sighs. Damn this nosy little bird, he gave away his real hair color. (…) There are so many jokes about ‘natural’ I could make right now, seriously. 

"Yeah," the guy confirms. "So what?"

"Nothing," Keigo answers. "Just imagining you as a redhead."

Keigo touches his chin thoughtfully, tilting his head this way and that, looking like he’s deep in research. He’s not really imagining—he’s mostly goofing off—but he still examines Dabi so intently you’d think he was about to write a science paper. And of course, he does that little bird-like tilt of the head again.

"You know," Keigo finally says, after staring enough, "I think I’d like it. You’d look cute with red hair."

Not that he doesn’t already find Touya—damn it, no, Dabi —cute even with black hair.

"And there goes my badass persona I’m working so hard to sell," Dabi adds dryly.

In people’s heads, ‘badass’ and ‘cute’ don’t mix. You’re either one type or the other. Or third, or fourth—whatever, just don’t cross the lines.

Do bad boys fall for cute deskmates?

"Shame," Keigo sighs. “It would’ve suited you, you know. With those freckles you work so hard to hide, it would’ve matched perfectly.”  

“Oh god,” Dabi grumbles, covering his face with his hand and rolling his eyes.  

Sharp-eyed cute bastard. He notices everything.  

Keigo’s words sound suspiciously like the crap his relatives used to say back when he first dyed his hair. ‘You were so handsome with red! And your freckles were adorable!’

"You don’t like your freckles?" Keigo suddenly asks.

Well… it’s not that he hates them. But it’s not like he loves them either. Dabi’s even thought about how to get rid of them.

"Not really," Dabi answers. "They don’t suit me."

Keigo scrunches his nose in that funny, almost pouty way. His thick brows furrow. He grabs Dabi’s hand and pulls it away from his face.

"That’s bullshit," the blond declares.

Because how the hell could they not suit him?! Since when? Keigo just doesn’t get it. He takes Dabi’s free hand and places it gently against his own cheek. Yeah, okay, kind of a weird move for just friends. Probably.

"Your body’s your choice, I get that," Keigo says firmly. "But you really are beautiful with freckles. And probably with red hair too. I haven’t seen it, but I’ll stubbornly believe it. And if you think you’re ugly because of freckles or red hair, then I’ll stubbornly keep proving you wrong. Because that’s my opinion. And as a badass, you can shove other people’s opinions about your looks straight up your ass. But that won’t change the fact that I won’t change mine!"

After his fiery little pep-talk, like something out of a cheesy movie, Keigo quickly pulls his hand away and turns his back to Dabi. Because his cheeks are burning, his palm feels like it’s on fire, and his heart’s hammering so hard it’s embarrassing.

Dabi’s almost relieved Keigo turned away. Because his own face is just as red, blush crawling all the way to his ears. Since when did Keigo’s speeches make his stomach feel like it’s full of not butterflies, but damn woodpeckers? Woodpeckers who ditched the trees and decided to drill holes in his heart. And in his head. Because right now it feels like his brain and heart swapped places.

(…)

Alright, maybe he’ll think about going back to his natural color. Dabi’s long since stopped caring about the world’s opinion—but for some stupid reason, Keigo Takami’s opinion matters way too much.

***

Dabi isn’t in a hurry to confess his growing feelings. Hell no. Who knows with this Takami kid? Not that Keigo’s the type to judge someone for their orientation—no, that’s not the issue. But… what if all that behavior isn’t mutual ? What if it’s just how Keigo is? Just his default setting. Always friendly, always chatty, practically glued to everyone with how touchy he is. And of course, kind, sweet, and an extrovert cranked up to eleven.

So how the hell is Dabi supposed to know if it’s love or just business-as-usual Keigo? What if Dabi isn’t special at all, just another person Keigo treats the same way? Why risk it? Why set himself up to be embarrassed—this time not to piss off his dad, but for real. This time it’d hurt. This time it’d sting and burn with shame.

***

"What do you think about these?" Todoroki asks, showing him something on his phone.

On the screen—earrings shaped like black dragons.

"Whoa, gorgeous," Keigo says with excitement. "Hold on, let me picture you wearing them."

Takami puts on the air of a great philosopher, clearly deep in thought as he imagines Dabi in the earrings.

"Stunning," the blond declares at last.

"Your expert opinion will definitely be taken into account," Dabi replies with a smirk. "Care to help me again?"

"Of course," Keigo agrees brightly.

They scroll through and discuss dozens of different earrings—hearts, roses, stars, snakes, bats, even middle fingers. Designers really get wild these days. Stones of every possible color in the palette.

Dabi isn’t really looking at the phone, though. He’s looking at Keigo. Watching for that subtle change in his expression, that spark in his eyes that says: That one’s beautiful.

"These are nice," Keigo says finally, pointing to the screen.

Dabi glances at the picture—bright red diamond-shaped earrings.

"But they wouldn’t suit you," Takami adds, shifting his gaze back to Dabi. "Not your style. Shame, really."

The dark-haired boy makes a mental note of it.

***

Dabi’s skipping school now completely legally. Turns out he can actually get sick. He’s kinda forgotten what that even feels like. Being sick, that is. When you feel like crap and just standing up makes your head spin so badly that the only sane thing is to lie back down. And nobody’s home. Dad’s always at work, and honestly, he’s never really cared about the eldest son anyway. Mom… well, she needs to be taken care of herself. She doesn’t even live with them. And the little ones are at school—supposed to be learning. So Dabi’s alone all day. Solitude presses down on his head like some extra symptom he didn’t need.

A message buzzes on his phone. Dabi reluctantly reaches for the device.

Chick
Hey. How’s it going? Everything okay? Class said you’re sick :(

A smile sneaks onto his face. That warm worry from someone else hits him right in the chest.

You
Fine.
Not dead.

Chick
Get better! :(

You
Thanks
By the way…

Chick
?

You
It’s class time and you’re on your phone
What a rascal

Chick
Should I stop texting you?

You
Absolutely not

Their conversation goes on for ages. Dabi grins like a lovesick idiot, staring at the screen.

***

You
Happy birthday

Chick
Thank you so much!!!!!
❤️❤️❤️❤️

You
I’m no good at birthdays. What do people usually wish? A million dollars and a helicopter

Chick
Sounds like demands from movie gangsters
I like it :)

You
Sorry, no gift

Chick
The best gift would be if you came back alive ☺️

Dabi hates that this sickness dragged on. He truly hates his cold and the fact that he can’t get past the bathroom. He truly hates that he can’t wish him happy birthday in person.

The little gift box just waits, patient for its moment.

***

Chick
3
2
1
Happy New Year!!! 🎉🌟🎄🎁🎊

You
Same to you

Chick
Happy new happiness!
Happy new joy!
Happy new feelings!

You
Happy new bad grades, skips, and dad yelling

Chick
Happy new adventures!
Happy new friends!
Happy new love!

Keigo keeps going with “happy new…” Dabi, though, gets stuck on the last line. Happy new love? He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to the old one. Why the old one? He means… the current one.

***

Today is Dabi’s birthday. He’s healthy enough to fight the urge to collapse mid-walk, but not healthy enough to make it to school. No, he isn’t aiming to learn anything today—he just wants to finally see Keigo.

And of course, not a single message from Takami today. Which is weird, really, considering that while Todoroki was sick, the blond practically buried him in texts. The emptiness in his chest is heavy and dull.

All day, not a peep from Keigo. Dabi texts him first. No reply comes. The longing gnaws twice as hard. Waiting—one of the cruelest tortures.

End of the school day. Still no reply from Takami. A wave of negative emotions crashes over Dabi, and yet… he waits. Even though the grown-up in him—proving to his little self that he’s past all these childish birthday celebrations—is standing right there beside the whining, impatient kid. Same person.

When a notification pops up on his phone, the dark-haired boy snatches it up at the speed of light. It’s a birthday e-card from his grandma — flowers, butterflies, the whole deal. He should’ve been happy, but instead Dabi just types out a flat “thanks,” his face twisted into that half-sullen, half-angry frown.  

After a while, the sound of the door opening reaches him. The little ones are back. Fuyumi and Natsuo, to be exact. Little Shoto has way too many clubs and tutors to come home this early. At least someone’s home. Otherwise, Dabi might actually die from his own loneliness and gloom.

“Welcome back, slacker,” the older brother says, trudging through the hallway.  

Sick, tired, and looking like hell itself.  

“Stay healthy,” Natsuo chimes in.  

Too late for that. But the kid still gets a mental thumbs-up.  

“Real comedian,” Dabi retorts.  

“Toya, on a scale from one to ten, how presentable do you look?” Fuyumi calls from the hallway.

Presentable? Well… everyone’s scale is different. He’s tired, disheveled, looks like he hasn’t showered in a month, wearing a stretched-out old tee and scruffy sweatpants. How presentable is that?

“Zero for you,” the dark-haired boy replies, stepping into the hallway.

And freezes in shock. Keigo awkwardly waves at him. Natsuo walks down the corridor, pats his older brother on the shoulder teasingly: “At least wear nice underwear,” and moves on. Maybe the fever is making him hallucinate.

“You’re right,” Fuyumi says, taking off her jacket, “Zero for me.”

She sheds the last remnants of her outerwear.

“Okay, don’t get too close, he’s contagious,” Fuyumi instructs Takami, “Talk, but not for long, boys.”

He nods silently, but very actively. His cheeks are red, his nose red, almost his whole face red—from the cold. Fuyumi graciously leaves them alone.

“Hey,” Keigo starts awkwardly, “Um, happy birthday?”

The blond smiles sheepishly.

“Thanks,” Toya replies.

He blushes a little, but unlike the blond, it’s not from the cold. A second of silence. Takami exhales.

“So—” he says, stepping closer to the dark-haired boy, “wishing you happiness, health, all the—”

“Don’t come closer, I’ll cough,” Todoroki warns, holding his hand out in a defensive gesture.

“Cough, I allow it,” Keigo says, moving closer anyway, “Anyway, be healthy, don’t get sick, may everything go well, may all your dreams come true, may the little ones listen to you, and may everything work out for you.”

The blond hands him two bags. One with mandarins, the other… something unknown.

What a fool, they told him not to get close. He knows Toya is sick (no, not insane—well, with their family, almost). But still… the longing that’s been gnawing at him all day disappears. Despite the winter chill, his chest feels warm. Even hot. And no, it’s not from a rising fever.

Dabi is sure he looks like a clumsy, lovesick idiot right now.

“Happy birthday again,” Takami smiles.

“Thanks again,” Todoroki replies, taking the bags from his hands.

The blush spreads further across his face. Their fingers brush for a moment.

“Sorry I didn’t text all day,” Keigo says awkwardly, “I wanted to make it a surprise.”

Probably next time he shouldn’t panic when Takami doesn’t answer. He’s not ignoring him. Nothing happened to him. He didn’t forget anything. He remembered everything.

“You did,” Toya replies.

Of course, he won’t admit that the blond made him worry.

Takami glances at the floor, then at Dabi. He seems to be thinking, like he’s deciding on something. Suddenly he exhales and hugs Toya.

“You’ll catch it,” the dark-haired boy says, hugging back.

“Get better soon,” Keigo says wistfully, “It’s boring without you.”

Takami hopes his red cheeks aren’t obvious. Todoroki hopes the same. Ah, young love in high school.

“If I promise, I’ll probably keep being sick, by the law of irony,” Dabi says.

“Then don’t promise,” the blond replies.

“Fair enough,” Toya smirks.

A second of silence. Keigo leans close to Todoroki’s ear.

“My gift looks childish,” he says quietly, almost a whisper, as if afraid someone might overhear, “But your father definitely won't kick him out. I hope. And I hope you like it.”

The dark-haired boy doesn’t immediately get the meaning. All his thoughts are stuck on the warm breath near his ear. After a while, he finally understands. Toya blinks stupidly. Who won’t throw it out?

The blond steps back.

“Happy birthday again, get better, I’ll go now, in case your dad comes home early,” he says, heading for the door.

Comes home early? Dad? From work? Nonsense.

“Don’t get sick yourself,” the dark-haired boy says.

“I’ll try,” Keigo smiles optimistically.

***

Chick
So, how’s the gift? :)
I really hope you liked it!

Takami asks right after getting home.

You
I have no censored words left

Chick
I hope that’s good? 😅

You
Good?
No

Keigo’s mood drops at the speed of light. Did he really miss the mark with the gift?..

You
It’s amazing

Chick
God, don’t text me one message at a time ever again! No way! Never! I was ready to sink into the ground!

Takami wants to add “idiot,” but decides to hold back on such comments today. He’ll call him that later. Maybe tomorrow. If there’s a reason.

You

 Chick

 Thanks

Toya agonizes over whether to add a heart. Stickers are more Keigo’s thing. For the blond, it’s normal to send hearts and stuff. For Dabi… it feels weird? Uncharacteristic, completely uncharacteristic.

Chick
You’re welcome 😘❤️
Glad you liked it ☺️
❤️❤️❤️

Dabi gathers courage and…

You
❤️

Takami squeaks at ultrasonic pitch. Then bursts out laughing, because his mom asks him to turn off the kettle.

***

Dabi thinks that his whole tough-guy image at school would be completely ruined the moment anyone found out he sleeps hugging a plush cat. Seriously, it would be a shame he’d never live down. But he has pitiful excuses. First, it’s a gift from Keigo. Second, it’s a cat. And when Dabi first saw it, he nearly died of cuteness—and his illness had nothing to do with it. Who knew an orange plush cat could stir so many pleasant feelings and melt his heart? Well, he couldn’t melt his own heart—Keigo had already done that.

***

You
So, how’s it going? Not sick?

Chick
Nope
Thanks for asking 😁
I’d go to school anyway, even if my temperature was close to forty

You
Me too. But I already told you, I’ve got three controllers at the entrance

Chick
But that’s good!
I’d be sent to school the opposite way
So I wouldn’t just sit around in pants, doing nothing but eating bread

After a second, Takami decides to delete the last message. Just in case. It’s too risky. But Toya already read it. And he’s about to ask… when Keigo shifts the topic.

Chick
How’s the kitty? :3

Todoroki follows the topic change but doesn’t forget that message.

You
Fine
* Photo*

Chick
Wow 😍
You look so cute together ! 😻❤️
Did you give him a name???

You
…
His name is Manari

Chick
Oh, wow, cool!!!
I like it! 👍

Dabi had thought a lot about the plush cat’s name. Now Shoto is psychologically one step ahead of him in every way. Toya had a few options: Suzume, Hayato, Hinata. And—oh, miraculous wonder—all those names were connected to the person who gave him this cat. And he really hopes Keigo won’t google the meaning of the name Manari. That would be awkward.

***

Dabi kicks the classroom door open.

"I survived, bitches" he shouts loudly.

This guy really knows how to grab attention.

"And hello to you too" the teacher replies, frowning more out of surprise than anything else.

Everyone in the class drops their jaws. Dabi loves those shocked faces. Because seriously… how long has it been since he showed up for first period?

Toya proudly walks to his last desk. Takami waves from there, smiling so brightly, his eyes sparkling.

"Welcome back" he says as the dark-haired boy sits down.

"Thanks" Dabi replies.

Keigo’s face is so happy it’s like their ridiculously strict class teacher just gave him an A+. Dabi gets flustered just looking at him. They haven’t seen each other in person since Dabi’s birthday. Both realize how much they missed each other—the chance to see each other, hear each other, just be near each other.

God, how much they missed each other.

***

Later at recess, Keigo asks, a little awkwardly, "If I hug you, will that totally ruin your badass image?"

He’s just so damn glad Dabi’s finally back after being gone so long.

Sounds way too good for Toya to say no.

"The image of a guy who couldn’t care less about what people say?" Toya shoots back rhetorically. "Don’t think so."

Keigo grins, embarrassed but happy, and pulls Toya into a hug. Toya hugs him back. Not only does it sound good—it feels even better.

"Welcome back again" Keigo says, not letting go.

"Thanks again."

"Oh wow, look at this cheesy shit," one classmate pipes up loudly, trying to mock them.

"Says the guy whose mom’s the only one willing to hug him," Dabi fires back instantly.

He still doesn’t let go of Keigo, just stares the kid down with that sharp look of his.

"And even she does it with disgust," he adds.

"The hell you talkin’ about, huh? I can get any girl I want," the classmate snaps back.

"Yeah, to slap you across the face," Toya says lazily.

The whole class bursts out laughing.

"You little—!" the kid chokes on his own words, too pissed to finish.

"Chill, man," another classmate cuts in. "Arguing with him is a losing game."

The wannabe tough guy grumbles a bit more, then shuts up.

***

Later that same day, Toya slides a little box across the desk toward the blond. Finally, its shining moment has come.

"Here," he says, shoving it closer. "Happy late birthday."

Keigo just blinks at him a couple times, tilting his head to the side like some confused bird.

Seriously, what a dumb little bird. Okay—more cute than dumb.

"Well? Take it already," Dabi snaps, practically jamming the box into his hands. "Health, happiness, may you live to see the next one, blah blah."

Keigo looks between Toya and the small box in his hand. He’s kinda shocked, honestly.

"Oh, wow. Uh… thanks," he says, staring at the gift. "That was… unexpected."

"Getting a birthday present?" Dabi raises a brow.

…Yeah? Keigo doesn’t say it out loud, though. With hands that are just barely trembling, he lifts the lid. And there they are—the exact earrings he’d noticed ages ago. Something in his chest squeezes so hard he nearly chokes on his own breath. How the hell did Toya even remember? He never even said anything. He only looked at them once. Damn, Dabi nailed this one. His cheeks flare red, matching the box. His eyes sting with sudden tears.

"Whoa, not the reaction I was going for," Toya mutters, caught off guard. "What’s up with you?"

Keigo smiles nervously, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand.

"God, sorry," he says, blinking through tears. "It’s just… happy tears. Totally caught me off guard."

What, ‘cause in his family the only things passed around as gifts were beatings? Jesus, Keigo’s actually crying from happiness. Already crying, about to lose it even harder.

"Well, good to know it’s not grief," Toya says, still staring at him like he’s some rare animal.

"Thanks, but I gotta refuse," Keigo blurts suddenly, setting the box back on the desk. "And please don’t look at me like that—I don’t even have my ears pierced."

"I know. They’re clip-ons, dumbass," Toya says, shoving the box back toward him.

"Yo, what’s this, you two getting engaged or something?!" some dumb homophobic classmate hollers across the room.

From far away, sure, a pair of earrings could look like a ring. And now? Everyone’s staring. Boom—moment wrecked. Maybe Dabi should’ve waited until the end of the day. Damn his impatience.

"Yeah, says the guy whose stepdad’s the one bending over," Toya fires back without missing a beat.

And just like that, he’s storming off to pick a fight with the loudmouth. Meanwhile, Keigo’s brain is spinning with panic over how the hell he’s gonna hide these earrings from his dad. He’d already gone through blood, sweat, and tears hiding the savings to buy Dabi’s gift—now he’s gotta stash this one too. If his old man finds them, he’s screwed.

And the thought that this is from Toya—Toya, not Dabi—sticks in his head. When will he finally learn to call him by his actual name? Stop crossing that invisible line? "Toya" feels too soft, too warm, too domestic. Keigo doesn’t think he’s earned the right.

But one thing’s for sure: he’d rather drop dead than let his father find those clip-ons.

***

Surprisingly, Dabi’s been showing up to class more and more lately. Finally decided to get his shit together? Yeah, right. Sounds fake as hell. Truth is, after being stuck sick for so long, he missed that blond idiot so bad he’s willing to suffer through school just to see him more often.

***

They’re messing around on frozen puddles like it’s some kind of budget ice rink. Typical high school crap. Main thing: don’t faceplant into a snowbank.

On the way to Toya’s place (because now Keigo insists on walking him home—God forbid he wanders off, catches another cold, and gives Keigo a heart attack), they stumble on the perfect puddle. Long, smooth, icy, untouched by that gross chemical sludge that eats through your shoes. No way they’re passing this up.

They take turns running and sliding across it. And hey—it’s fun. As long as you don’t bust your face on the ice. Which, of course, Keigo almost does. And then Dabi, the genius, tries to “help” him. Yeah, good job. Instead of saving him, they just end up tripping over each other and crashing down anyway.

So now? Toya flat on the ice. Keigo flat on Toya. Some rescue mission.

Toya groans—ice to the spine is no joke. And Keigo’s on top of him. Close. Way too close. Face-to-face, close. Cheeks going red. Easy enough to blame on the cold, right? But still—how the hell did sliding around on puddles end up like this?

"Uh… sorry," Keigo mutters, scrambling off.

Dabi props himself up, staying seated on the ice. Keigo offers a hand.

"Don’t sit there, you’ll catch pneumonia," the blond says.

"Drop the big-sis act," Toya shoots back, but he grabs the hand anyway. Keigo hauls him up.

The rest of the walk home? Totally uneventful.

***

At school on Valentine’s Day, the Secret Mail system kicks in. How does it work? Simple. You buy a card—or, if you’re extra, you make one yourself—then drop it in the box in the main hall. After that, the so-called “postmen” take over. Basically, a bunch of kids lucky enough to get excused from classes for such an “important mission.” And what’s their job? Halfway through the school day, in the middle of class, they barge in and deliver the valentines to whoever’s name is on them. Easy. Straightforward.

But some people still stick to the classic method: grow a pair and hand it over directly. Yeah… that method doesn’t work for either Keigo or Dabi. Why? Because they’re chickenshits. That’s it. That’s the whole explanation.

During the big delivery moment, Todoroki gets a hand-drawn valentine, his name scribbled on it all crooked. Did someone write this with their left hand or what? Either way, it doesn’t look like blondie’s handwriting. Keigo’s writing might not be perfect, but it’s definitely not “chicken scratch.”

Meanwhile, Takami gets an origami heart. Cute, but again—the handwriting on it? Not Dabi’s. Sure, the dark-haired bastard almost never writes in class, but sometimes he gets called to the board. Keigo knows his scrawl. And this? Totally different.

And just like that, hope fizzles out. Both idiots sigh, equally disappointed.

***

Why does Dabi even call Keigo “Chick”? Oh, that’s a story. Originally, Takami’s nickname was Hawks. Rumor says it was ‘cause the guy didn’t run across the field—he practically flew. And then one particular troublemaker (yeah, you get three guesses, but you only need one) decided it would be hilarious to mock him.

Back then, Dabi sucked even more at talking about feelings than he does now. Scratch that—back then it wasn’t just a problem, it was a full-blown crisis. Add in his dumb way of showing attention, and what do you get? Constant teasing, constant jabs at the poor bastard who just so happened to be the object of his… well, whatever it was. Not that Toya even realized he had an “object of affection” or why it was so damn important to get that guy’s attention in the first place.

"You’re no Hawks," Dabi sneered one day, loud enough to make sure the whole class heard. "At best, you’re a chick."

And then he looked at the blond. Watching. Waiting.

Unexpected twist? Keigo smiled. Not that twitchy, annoyed smile when your eye starts to spasm from irritation. A real one. Like he actually liked it.

"I kinda like that," he said easily, shrugging.

Dabi grimaced. Great. The jab had backfired. The dumb bird didn’t even care. Fine. Todoroki would keep calling him that anyway—just out of spite. Even if he wasn’t sure whose spite it actually was.

***

It’s March. Spring’s messing with everyone’s heads—or at least that’s Toya’s excuse for suddenly ditching the dye and going back to his natural hair color. Definitely not because of anything Keigo ever said. (Insert joke about “natural” here.)

He strolls into class all casual, looking annoyingly good. Instantly, every pair of eyes is on him. He’s used to it by now. Doesn’t care. There’s only one gaze he’s actually interested in.

Keigo’s jaw drops. Literally. Because—holy shit. That’s all his brain is looping: holy. shit. Because Toya—Dabi—whatever—is stupidly gorgeous. Dyed, natural, doesn’t matter. The guy’s just hot, no matter what crap he tells himself. And Keigo? Just a hopeless idiot in love.

He doesn’t hear a thing. Not the classmates whispering about Todoroki, not the chatter of the room, not even the footsteps of said dark-haired menace walking right up to his desk.

“Yo, Earth to Chick,” Dabi snaps his fingers in front of him. “Get back in orbit.”

Keigo slaps a hand over his mouth. Not sure if it’s to hold his jaw in place or to stop the dumb compliment clawing its way out. Because the line running through his head is: If I were a girl, I’d totally be in love with you. Which is so freaking stupid.

“Sorry,” Blondie finally blurts through his idiot mouth. “I was just—fu—”

The rest of the curse dies behind his palm. A smirk creeps across Dabi’s face.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Todoroki says. “Hard not to be floored.”

“It… it looks good on you,” Keigo mutters, mostly to himself, giving a little nod. “Seriously.”

Then he turns away, ears blazing, cheeks burning as red as Toya’s hair.
And damn it, there’s that “Toya” again. He’s gotta quit that. Dumb bird brain.

***

The chickadees have gotten way too bold around people, swooping right up without a hint of fear. In the park, you can straight-up feed them from your hand. That’s exactly what Toya and Keigo are doing after school, palms outstretched with sunflower seeds.

For some reason, more birds flock to Takami. They even linger longer on his hand. They land on Dabi too, but not as often.

“And yet you don’t feed me by hand,” Keigo teases after another bird flutters away from Todoroki’s palm.

Oh, we’re making hand-feeding jokes now? Fine.

“You want me to?” the dark-haired boy shoots back, smirking as he offers Keigo a palm full of seeds.

Play it all the way through—why not? That’s what Keigo decides when he grins slyly, leans down, and licks his hand instead. Then he pulls back, munching sunflower seeds shell and all, completely unbothered.

Dabi freezes, brain short-circuiting for a second. As that anime Fuyumi once watched so wisely put it: “Boys in love can be gross.” Guess that explains why Todoroki isn’t actually disgusted at having his hand slobbered on.

***

Later, the dark-haired menace pops a chip straight into Keigo’s mouth. Blondie’s eyes go wide. What, did he think Dabi would just forget that whole bird-feeding bit?

“What’s with the shocked face?” Toya asks, smirking. “Thought I forgot how jealous you got of those chickadees?”

Takami crunches down on the chip and rolls his eyes. Who’s supposed to be jealous here, huh?

“Maybe you should be the jealous one,” Keigo fires back. “What if I just fly off and join my bird bros? Live in a tree with the chickadees. What then?”

A sunny grin spreads across his face, showing he’s clearly joking.

“I’d build a birdhouse,” Dabi deadpans.

Keigo bursts out laughing. Can’t even argue with that! Todoroki grins faintly in return. The line “I’d fly with you” stays unspoken.

***

Keigo doesn’t really know what the hell went down in Todoroki’s family. Other people’s family drama? Deep, messy woods. He’s got his own skeletons rattling in the closet anyway. What he does know is that Dabi hates being called by his first and last name. Hates it enough that, if you’re not careful, you might get a little “friendly” welcome after school. Friendly as in: black eye. Or a broken nose. Dealer’s choice.

Takami’s not a masochist. He’s got a dad at home for that already. He’s not about to push his luck. Getting to good terms with this guy—who’s unfortunately not his, ahem—took way too long. He’s not throwing it away over one stupid word.

So he trains himself not to even think it. Doesn’t work all that well. “Toya” still slips in, sneaking past his brain’s defenses. Sure, the guy’s siblings call him that—but that doesn’t mean Keigo can. For them it’s homey. For him? Off-limits. Definitely not for Keigo.

***

The day’s sunny. And windy as hell. The gusts whip through Keigo’s already wild mop of hair, making it look even more like a bird’s nest. That’s just how Dabi always pictures him—bedhead incarnate. He honestly can’t imagine Takami slicked down and proper, even at those fancy-ass “important school events.” Even then, he shows up with chaos perched on his head. And it works. At least, Todoroki thinks it does.

The wind messes with Keigo, and before he can think better of it, Dabi’s hand is already there, fingers running through blond fluff, smoothing it down just a little. Way better than just staring.

Takami freezes, blinking in surprise, his fluffy blond brows shooting up.

“Wind’s strong,” the dark-haired boy mutters, pulling the classic excuse. “Something got caught in your hair.”

Reluctantly, he draws his hand back. He hates it—how the wind gets free rein, while he’s stuck pretending there has to be a reason.

“Aaah,” Keigo drags the sound out, then smiles. “Thanks for getting it out.”

Blondie could give the damn sun a run for its money. Just as bright. Just as warm. Just as blinding.

“If something gets stuck again,” Takami asks, half-teasing, “you’ll help me out, yeah?”

“Always,” Dabi answers without even thinking.

That day, weirdly enough, Keigo’s hair keeps “catching stuff” in it. A lot.

***

End of the school year. The finale. After this, it’s all about choices. High school? Vocational college? Or straight to work? 

Ha. Work. Right. They’re fifteen. At best, they can land some part-time gig—and only if they don’t get scammed. Anyway. Off-topic. We’re here for teen love, not career counseling.

Grades are closing, last semester wrapped up, all that boring stuff. Everyone gets it.

Right now, though? Right now it’s just lying in the grass—well, on a jacket tossed over the grass—and letting peace soak in. Sun warming your skin, breeze messing with your hair, clouds drifting slow across the sky. Everything’s quiet. Maybe too quiet. Like the whole park belongs to just the two of them. Like they’ve got all the time in the world. You know, cliché as hell, like on TV.

“Where you gonna apply?” Keigo finally asks, wrecking the whole serene mood with one question.

He’s staring at the clouds, eyes squinting against the sun. Dabi turns his head toward him.

“No clue,” Todoroki says honestly. “Anywhere that’s not cop school like my old man.”

“Fair,” Keigo sighs. “I don’t know either.”

Silence again. Not as soft this time, but still not bad.

Toya doesn’t look away, though. He just… stares. Like there’s nowhere else worth looking. Like the universe narrowed itself down to this one boy.

“You’re burning a hole in me,” Keigo mutters, sitting up.

He needs the change—his cheeks are already heating from that stare, and sitting at least hides it better.

Dabi finally looks back at the sky. Soon, they won’t see each other like this every day. Paths will split, like Keigo asked: college, jobs, whatever. He should care about all that, but mostly? He just cares about not losing this .

End of the year. Now or never. If he screws it up, well—paths split anyway. Not every high school crush survives the credits roll. Still, some stupid hopeful part of him wants the happy ending.

Todoroki shifts up to sit beside him. Feelings were never his strong suit. Actions speak louder. So he grabs Keigo by the collar and kisses him.

It’s short. Just a moment. But it feels like forever—warmth spreading from lips to fingertips, down to toes, hot enough the sun might as well give up. A whole field of butterflies takes off in his gut, wings brushing against flowers that weren’t there a second ago but somehow sprouted just for this.

He lets go. Done. Can’t rewind it. From here it’ll either be heaven… or hell. At least, he thinks, if he dies now, he won’t regret it.

One second. Keigo looks stunned. Barely breathing, heartbeat skipping. Toya braces for the worst. (Big mistake.)

Second second. Everything flips. Keigo doesn’t look stunned anymore—he looks sure . Determined. He yanks Dabi in by the shoulders and kisses him back—fast, messy, relentless. Not one kiss. Dozens. His hands slide from shoulders to neck, from neck to hair. Fingers everywhere—tangled in black strands, brushing over his cheek. It’s overwhelming, it’s confident, and it’s so him .

Toya feels like some awkward girl who just got stuck sitting next to her crush. Did this idiot practice on tomatoes or something? Because suddenly he’s thinking tomato = me = red as hell, which is the dumbest timing imaginable. He’s kissing the boy he loves, and his brain decides now’s the moment for produce metaphors.

Apparently his dazed face doesn’t go unnoticed. Keigo pulls back, guilt written all over him, hands slipping away.

That wasn’t warmth. That was a goddamn volcanic eruption. Lava melted every ounce of doubt, burned all those tragic-ending fantasies to ash.

“Sorry,” Keigo whispers, looking away.

Holy shit. Dabi had no idea Keigo could be like that.

“Don’t apologize,” Toya says—and then, after a pause, adds softly, “Keigo.”

Not a nickname. His name. And it hits Takami harder than any kiss.

“Uh… Toya?” Keigo says, voice tiny.

Gone is the confidence—he looks like he’s bracing for a punch. Like he wasn’t just devouring Todoroki a second ago.

“Call me whatever you want,” Dabi breathes out. What does it matter now?

Keigo smiles, shy but glowing. And Toya has no clue how much that means to him, how careful Keigo always was with that name.

Still, the blond looks a little guilty for how hard he pushed. But hell, it makes sense—he’s been dreaming about this forever. He leans back in, hands cradling Toya’s face.

“I love you,” he whispers.

Oof. Heart squeeze. A good one. Sweet as hell.

“I love you too,” Dabi answers into his lips, grinning through the next kiss.

Two thoughts race in his head. First: God, this feels so good. Second: Why the hell didn’t I do this earlier?

Seriously. Why the hell didn’t I?