Chapter Text
“Sensei so could have!”
“Could not have! Not without breaking all his bones!”
“But he did! I saw him up close when he fought Shie Hassakai!” Eri shouted back, temper flared.
“And I saw him up close when he fought Muscular! Plus! I wasn’t actively using a time rewinding quirk on him! The fight with Muscular is a better gauge of Sensei’s real strength!” Kouta hollered, just as intense.
“Eh, guys? Why were you so up close to a hero versus villain fight?” Michi tried to interrupt, asking the question that anyone sane would have.
“Oh I was on his back being rescued.”
“Oh I was behind him, being rescued.” Their voices harmonized in identical nonchalance as they whipped in a synchronized fashion to face their classmates. “That’s when I knew Sensei was the Best Hero Ever.”
The rest of class 1a exchanged concerned glances. Fans truly were scary.
Sensei entered, smiling as he always did, the red and silver scarred tissue on the left side of his face crinkling up and aging his otherwise youthful appearance. “Alright, settle down class. We have important announcements before lessons begin.”
Ren raised his hand, “Sensei! Can we guess who this week’s visitors will be before announcements?”
Sensei sighed heavily, “Okino, we don’t have visitors every week.”
The door frame rattled open, “Midoriya, do you have a copy of the -. Oh.”
The class cheered and giggled, “Pro Hero Shouto! Hello!”
Sensei just laughed, “Todoroki, welcome. Your timing is impeccable.” Kouta snorted, and Eri knew the grin splitting her face was wider than Lemillion-san’s.
Pro Hero Shouto paused, “If now is a bad time -.”
Sensei smiled, bright like the sun. “No no, now is perfect, if you can stay a bit longer? Today we have a practical lesson in situational awareness, and how to handle handicaps.”
Shouto nodded, “If you don’t mind me assisting today, then I’m happy to.”
Privately, Eri noted that Sensei’s smile seemed to grow even bigger, even bigger than even the legendary All Might-san and was that a faint pink flush on Sensei’s ear she saw? “Then thank you for your hard work. Class, thank Todoroki for his help today.”
As one, they chorused, “Thank you for your hard work Pro Hero Shouto!”
She turned slightly and nodded at Nagisa. One more entry in the “Reasons Sensei and Pro Hero Shouto Should Be Boyfriends” list. They were almost at 50, and then, it would be time to enact The Plan™.
Shouto couldn’t help the shivers that go down his spine at the too bright, almost expectant, determined sparkle in Izuku’s students eyes as they go through the exercise for the afternoon. He’d seen that look too often on Momo and Mina to ever be confused about what it meant - they were plotting something and he was in danger. Too bad Izuku would never believe he had a class full of hellions worse than their Class 1a ever was.
Seo clapped her hands twice, calling the attention of the class, Ueno beside her as usual. “Alright, Dorm Meeting commences now. First order of business is a reminder that we are not licensed to use our Quirks outside of training, and any unsupervised Quirk use will be punished. Deku Sensei emphasized ‘unsupervised,’ so even if it's a game of Quirk tag, just get him, okay? As long as you’re not doing something fatally dangerous he won’t intervene.” Ueno mimed clicking an invisible remote and the PowerPoint advanced one slide, switching from a red “X” over the universal sign for Quirks to a red “X” over a clock.
“Second, is a reminder from the teachers that any equipment or fixture issues are to be reported, we are not allowed to use our quirks to fix them. Eri, this means you.”
A chorus of boos swept the room. “C’mon Prez! This isn’t fair!” Ren protested at volume, the most frequent rewind requestor.
Seo grinned a sly grin, mischief written in the corners. “Maybe when Eri gets a bit more control, yeah? There’s a budget for fixing things, there’s not a budget for completely rebuilding the dorm water system. Again.”
The boos transformed into hoots and laughs, and Eri knew she’d turned blood red with embarrassment - an unfortunate downside of albinism. But everyone’s tone was kind, and friendly, and it filled her with warmth all over. The her of her childhood wouldn’t have ever imagined this, imagined having friends, imagined all the people who loved and supported her and forgave her when they all had to trudge to the UA gyms for showers for a week because she’d tried to rewind a broken faucet to brand new. Her heart filled with resolve - to heck with the plan, the time was now!
Seo checked something off on her clipboard, then returned her gaze to the assembled class. Ueno clicked forward to a calendar, dates circled in red prominently displayed, “Finally, even though we just started the second term, remember that our first exam is just around the corner. Don’t slack off - this is UA, not Ketsubutsu.”
Tsuda snickered, “Prez, you’re the only one with beef with Ketsubutsu. Don’t get us involved in your fight!”
Seo threw her clipboard with deadly accuracy, not even looking to nail Tsuda right between the eyes. There was a reason she was the UA baseball team’s star pitcher, even as a first year. “See if I help you in the license exam when they come to take you out!” Seo then tossed her braid, soldiering on as if nothing had happened. “Are there any other announcements or concerns for the class?” Another mimed click by Ueno and the slides advanced to a massive question mark.
Eri’s hand shot up, fast as lightning. Nagisa jerked next to her, almost falling out of his chair in surprise. Tamaki-san had once described her as having frightening moon eyes - large and round and certain her requests would be met, and she lazered in on Seo with the strength a 1000 times stronger than Sensei’s will.
Seo stared right back, unimpressed.
Eri widened her eyes, just that bit more assertive.
One eyebrow raised in response.
A touch wider, hand still raised high. She wouldn’t break first.
Finally Seo sighed, arms crossing. “Fine, Eri. But - do you promise that this has nothing to do with new tests for your Quirk?”
Which - rude. The scientific method was the best way to learn the fine details of how her quirk worked, and there were a whole host of physicists waiting to test hypotheses about time. Eri was only trying to advance science! But, since she didn’t currently have any experiments for testing, she could answer honestly, “This doesn’t concern my quirk at all.”
The huge sigh of relief that echoed through the common room was a bit insulting. No one had ever been truly in danger from her testing - the UA IRB wouldn't allow her to experiment otherwise. Seo raised her hand, to pause the premature celebration, “Is it about a street concert? Or practicing a performance, not limited to but inclusive of singing, song lyrics, obscure musical instruments, and/ or dance choreography?”
Which was even ruder - she had really grown her street concerts to something respectable and hadn’t had a poor showing in quite some time. Or had had a bad performance. She had to show results from Jiro-san and Mic-san’s teaching and mentorship. And no one had ever complained about the final results of her practicing, or even the practices themselves. Even if she drilled relentlessly until she could perform flawlessly. “No, although I do have a set at the festival. I hope you all can attend.” Rustling and quiet chatter rippled across the class members, marking the information.
Seo nodded in acceptance. “I’ll add it to the shared social calendar, then. Alright, Eri, you can have the floor.”
Eri bounced up, handing Ueno a USB drive to load up. With a flick of his fingers, the old slides dissolved away and were replaced with hers. Murmurs broke out across the room at the bold, shocking title. “Get Sensei Pro Hero Shouto as A Boyfriend: a Proposal for Collaboration.”
She beamed her idol-trained smile at her captive, silent audience. “Hello all! Thank you for your time and attention today. I’d like to present my proposal to you on why Sensei deserves a romantic partner, and why Pro Hero Shouto is most suitable to fulfill this role. Please feel free to ask questions as they come up.”
Her words were met with dead silence, but Eri could see their faces clearly - some people were intrigued, and others looked like they were witnessing a car crash happening in front of them. About a fifty-fifty split, which was about what she’d expected. Still, Eri knew she could convince some of them.
With a nod the slides advanced, boldly titled, “Reasons.” “Many of you are probably wondering why this is even a topic of discussion - Sensei is our sensei, and why Pro Hero Shouto? And they are good questions. However, there’s a long list of reasons why.
“First, let’s examine Sensei. Sensei, even though he is legally an adult, a capable hero with a long list of accomplishments, and well qualified to be a teacher - in a word, he’s ... well he’s kind of a sad sack.” With a gesture Ueno forwarded, showing pictures of Sensei with ratty pajamas and wild bed head and deep bruised eye bags that rivaled NightHide, tripping over nothing and a huge stack of papers flying, an image of the class counter for how many days Sensei had been seen eating nothing but a power bar - the number distressingly high.
Even more images followed - the counter for how many times Sensei had been seen around well after hours (also distressingly high, much higher than the power bar count), a newspaper clipping from that time at the school baseball game Sensei got nailed by a fastball that everyone else in the stands avoided, and ending with a social media picture from Uravity-san’s Pinstagram of Sensei face down on the table in an izakaya, with the caption saying Uravity-san hadn’t seen Sensei (“one of my best friends”) in actual months. “The evidence speaks for itself. Sensei would not survive in the wilderness.”
The next slide rolled in, and Eri continued, “Sensei wasn’t always like this, though - before the final battle with All for One, he was very much in the top 1% of hero trainees.” News stills and paper clippings, along with more candid photos peppered the screen, depicting a much more rested, happier, and more social Sensei from back when he was young. “Which leads me to one conclusion - Sensei is motivated by helping and caring for others. Having a partner will give him this motivation, and accountability to take care of himself. Because we only see him in school and notice this much, so reality must be much worse.”
She could see the comprehension dawning on faces, incredulous horror that if Sensei was this much of a disaster at school, where he was the adult with experience in the room, then what must be happening outside of the classroom? Michi had helped him get groceries once, and it had been all paste pouches and instant ramen and power bars - what if it was worse than that?
Eri gestured for Ueno to continue, victory on the tip of her tongue.“Which leaves the question - why Pro Hero Shouto of all the available candidates? There’s the fact that Sensei and Shouto-san are old friends with a long history together - from that historic Sports Festival to fighting All for One, they get along well. However, further evidence supports that Sensei is most at ease around Shouto-san, and more likely to smile by a 15% increase compared to other visitors that Sensei is equally close with.
“There is also a 42% increase in heart rate observed, 55% increase in pupil size, and 38% increase in turning towards Shouto-san as compared to other individuals. These are the strongest reactions by far to anyone else observed, and also the most consistent. Based on research out of America, we can assume this means Sensei’s brain is lighting up with dopamine, most likely in the parts of the brain associated with expectation, social behavior, pleasure, reward and motivation.
“Or in short - Sensei has strong feelings towards Shouto-san and we should support him. There is additional supporting evidence in Appendix A,titled, ‘Reasons Sensei and Pro Hero Shouto Should Be Boyfriends’ at the end of the slide deck for further perusal.”
Ren shot his hand up, contrarian, “What’s in it for us?”
Exactly the question she wanted asked. “I’m so glad you asked, Ren. If my calculations are correct, in no particular order, we can expect to get underground hero practice for those of us who want to go into that track, teamwork exercises ahead of the licensing exam, planning and execution experience for the term project in joint heroics class, increased access to various Pro Heroes for classwork and internships, and personal satisfaction at Sensei getting the happily ever after he deserves.
“Plus, we get to cause a little mischief to get back at Sensei for all the weird training he sets us!” She clasped her hands against her sternum, tilting her head just so and smiling just that much more - the idol-sincerity effect, as Jiro-san had taught her. A sure-fire way to get people to think you’re cute and adorable, and do what you want. “Therefore, I’d like to request your help with the following plan: Set Sensei and Pro Hero Shouto Up On Romantic Encounters Until They Realize How Much They Mean To One Another.”
Her grand finale fell a little flat - met with dead silence instead of resounding cheers. Well, plans never survived contact with reality, as Principal Aizawa always says. Eri pivoted to Plan B: “Any questions?”
A veritable forest of hands popped up almost immediately. “Any questions that are not a variation of ‘what the heck,’ ‘are you on any drugs,’ or ‘why Shouto-san’?” All the hands but one dropped, and Eri wearily geared herself up for a fight. “Yes, Kouta?”
The boy in question wove his way through the crowd to face her across the common room rug, scowling fiercely. “What the literal fuck? I know you had a stunted childhood, but I know Auntie Shino and your grandfather tried their best and got you some socialization. I was some of that socialization, I would know.”
Auntie Shino had always coached her in patience, keeping her cool under pressure. Eri couldn’t be a hero without being able to keep calm even in the face of provocation, “Weird flex, but okay. Not sure where you’re going with this, though.”
“Because even with our shared childhood, I can't comprehend where you even came up with this bullshit! Are you a stalker?”
She buried her hands in the pleats of her skirt, to hide how they clenched into fists, but forced her voice to remain even and unemotional. “What do you mean?”
“Then how’d you get the stupid physiological data you were spouting about earlier?”
Of course Kouta would have grasped that point. Still, she kept smiling pleasantly, “Uravity-san, Alien Queen-san, and Creati-san helped me.”
Unfortunately today was not the day that Kouta was struck by a flash of stupidity. “That’s what you were up to all those times you claimed to be going to interview them for the school newspaper. You were actually scheming and colluding to get Sensei’s friends to spy for you. Did they even know why you were asking?” From the corner of her eye, she could see Kouta’s argument gaining traction, swaying people who would’ve otherwise supported her proposal - drat.
Her temper was rising, barely in check, “Kouta, you’re making me sound like a villain. It’s nothing so devious. And yes they knew why. They wouldn’t have helped if they didn’t agree with me or if they thought it was harmful.” That soothed some of their more alarmed classmates, but not enough to ignore the spectacle happening on the common room rug.
Her opponent snorted derisively, eyes sneering down at her where they met, “Aren't you getting a little full of yourself, deciding all of this? Is your powerful, time-bending Quirk getting to your head, that everything will go your way if you just smile hard enough? What makes you think Sensei deserves to have people meddling with his private life, arranging things as they please?”
“Because we’re heroes! We interfere and help people! That’s what we do! Isn’t that what Sensei is trying to teach us?” Thoughtful nods and murmuring from the class erupted, because the image of Sensei reaching out his hand to even villains to help them was imprinted in their brains from early childhood.
“And this is how you define ‘helping’?! Is this what heroics is to you? Is this what you’ve taken away from Sensei’s hard work teaching us, being an example to us? Or are you too childish to understand what he’s been trying to drill into our heads?” A well calloused hand pushed her shoulder hard, sending her stumbling back.
The plant in the corner shrunk and disappeared with alacrity, and in the background Eri dimly recognized their classmates backing away slowly. “I’m not going off half-assed and high-handed! Unlike you -!” Several students started forward to interrupt the rising physicality, the way her stance had planted and firmed, bracing for a fight.
“Did you even consider how Shouto-san might feel? Like I said - half-assed You’re trying to pressgang him into a relationship without thinking about what he wants.”
Nayuta tentatively raised her hand, “Actually, Shouto-san has stated he’d like to date Midoriya-sensei before.” Eri gestured emphatically, even though she hadn’t known Shouto-san had talked to his interns about such personal topics.
Kouta snarked right back, undeterred, “As if Eri knew that before you said anything. My point stands - is this the measure of your “heroics”?!”
A new voice interjected. “Ah, the age old question of what makes a hero! I’m glad to see the tribulations of youth don’t change!” Nagisa shrieked as a white mongoose looking creature suddenly spoke next to him, startling the rest of the class and causing a few Quirk outbursts too.
Kouta did a double take, “Former Principal Nedzu? You’re still alive?”
The small creature laughed uproariously, like Kouta had just told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. “Of course I’m still alive! What else would I be?” Privately, Eri thought it was a good question - Nedzu-san had already been principal at UA when Aizawa-san had applied to be a teacher, and Aizawa-san was now Principal. And if Nedzu-san was in fact an animal, then he’d already lived his normal lifespan several times over. “There’s nothing more entertaining than the vigor of youth! Ahahahahahaha!”
Nedzu-san must have sensed the awkwardness descending across the space, because he let his slightly manic laughter trickle off and wiped a tear of mirth from his beady eye. “Don’t mind me, I’m just an old creature observing. Please continue, I believe we were just about to observe the fisticuffs stage. Remember! No fighting inside the dorm building - take it outside! And no Quirks!”
But Seo looked intrigued, “Fisticuffs stage - Have you experienced something like this before, Principal Nedzu?”
The creature waved a paw dismissively, “Oh yes, something like this crops up once a generation or so. Now, now, back to the fight. We were just getting to the good part.” Which was as good as permission as Eri was going to get, and she’d milk it for all it’s worth.
“Wait wait wait.” Ueno moved to block her from getting any closer to Kouta, and Nao and Arata were impeding Kouta by bodily holding him back, giving Seo time to speak. “If ... philosophical differences happen so frequently, there must be a way to handle them.”
Principal Nedzu shrugged back, unconcerned. “The best way is to have people take sides and fight it out. Nothing beats the Fist of Friendship! Bwahahahahaha!”
The awkward, uncomfortable silence that descended spoke volumes of how unsatisfactory the answer was, though none of the class could refute the former Principal’s point - at least one friendship in their year had sparked after both parties beat each other unconscious.
But Eri made eye contact over Ueno’s bulky form, and for once it looked like she and her old childhood playmate were in complete agreement. “Fine. Let’s do it. Let’s fight.”
Around her, the class exploded into sound and motion - Eri had never been a front line fighter by nature, preferring to stay back and support since her Quirk was better suited to rescue than hand to hand fighting. Kouta kept their heavy eye contact, unshaken - he knew the strength of her determination, at least - and nodded. “Fine.”
“Wonderful - here, you take this grey armband, and you take this blue one.” A white paw held up a grey colored tube of cloth to her, offering another blue one to Kouta. “Now, once everyone else in the class takes a side, we’ll discuss guidelines. Let’s say you have until the end of the UA school festival to achieve your objective - the end of the final performance will be the final call.” Two piles of grey and blue arm bands appeared from his pockets, and the rest of class 1a hesitantly began to pick their colors.
Not breaking eye contact, Eri nodded firmly, sliding the armband into place, “I’m ready if you are.”
Kouta nodded back, doing the same with his own arm band, his eyes fierce. “Bring it on.”
“Sensei! Wait up!” Izuku turned from where he was helping carrying the supplies to set up the festival booths, watching three of his students come into view. They were wearing matching grey armbands, and in yukata instead of their winter uniforms like he’d left them in, but Izuku couldn’t exactly scold them for it. He himself was in his shirtsleeves, suit jacket and tie discarded in favor of ease of movement.
He hoisted the crates higher onto his shoulders, easily carting the industrial machine parts to where one of the older students directed him. “Hello Eri, Nayuta, Ueno. How are preparations going? Is there something you need help with?” Izuku dusted off his hands after cracking the nails holding the lid, waving off the thanks the third year gave him. “I know you all picked something at the very limits of your abilities, but I have every faith you can pull it off, afterall - .”
Automatically, as if they were brainwashed or subliminally conditioned and their trigger word was spoken, the trio chorused, “Plus Ultra!,” striking a powerful pose in unison as if they were Super Sentai Rangers or magical girls calling on the power of love and friendship.
The other students milling around didn’t even blink an eye at his students like they had not even a term ago - something Izuku worried about frequently. He was pretty sure his graduating class at UA had gotten odd looks their whole tenure in high school, right up until graduation - maybe kids these days were both weirder and more jaded? His teachers in university hadn’t mentioned this - maybe his friends with interns would know more? Or maybe not - Bakugou probably wasn’t the most adept at keeping up with the youth, to say nothing of others like Koda or Sato. To himself, he muttered, “Maybe they were staring because we were all socially inept and the biggest troublemakers?”
“What was that Sensei?” Eri peered up at him, smiling brilliantly. As usual, some of the ache in his chest eased - she’d grown up loved, cared for, and could smile that brilliantly after everything. His short tenure as a hero had done a lot of good, more than he’d thought.
Nayuta with their big, moon gold eyes blinked up owlishly at Izuku. “So are you coming with us, Midoriya-sensei?”
He hadn’t even noticed a question being posed, even though Aizawa-sensei and All Might-sensei had drilled multitasking as a teacher into his head, "Ah, sorry, run the question by me again?”
Ueno spoke next, fingers flying quickly, “We’re going to see a local shrine’s festival to compare. Would you like to join us?”
Izuku thought about the pile of grading he had waiting, the evaluations of the last practical exam and personalized improvement and training regimens he had due by the end of the week, and the 47 unread text messages he still needed to respond to. “Sure,” he agreed readily.
The delight his students displayed at his agreement should have been his first clue something wasn’t completely above board in their request, but in his defense they were heroics students - they’re usually up to something, typically not nefarious but often slightly unhinged. He’d call it an improvement from his own generation if they’re not staging a daring hostage rescue against a team of murderous super villains or the like.
Except - had things improved? He might’ve only had a short tenure as a hero, but he sure had collected a lifetime of regrets during it - his chest still ached when he recalled how much he’d failed the League of Villains, and how little society had changed even when faced with their stories. The history books recorded him as having saved everyone, except he hadn’t, had he?
Deep in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed their arrival at the festival, nor had he noticed his precious students abandoning him to the enticing lights, smells, and sounds of the festival. Standing alone in the middle of the kaleidoscope of noise and color, it felt like a metaphor for his life - standing alone and apart, waving through the window while everyone else stood in the light, fully present. It was almost nostalgic, being back where he started all those years ago.
Shaking his head, Izuku turned, ready to leave the festival grounds - there was nothing good about being morose in a festive place, especially with a famous face. If only he had a disguise form like All Might - a broad hand grabbed his shoulder, heavy and rough with use. “Hey.”
It took Izuku entirely too long to react - he didn’t even sense the person approaching, or their intent. Any villain with the right Quirk could have ended him in that amount of time. 8 years ago, his reaction would have been faster than it was - Danger Sense’s early alert not withstanding. He grasped the hand and whirled around, arm cocked back, only to pause. “Oh, Todoroki, it’s you. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
A gentle smile lifted one corner of Todoroki’s mouth, highlighting why he’d won “Face that Could Stop any Villain” at the hero awards for three years running. Privately, Izuku thought it wasn’t even an exaggeration - Todoroki was what Teen Vogue called “the Stoic Princely Type - a staple of the shoujo genre, ready to steal maiden’s hearts when he finally smiles”. Todoroki removed his hand from Izuku’s shoulder, shrugging at his question. “I had a sudden shift switch happen with one of my sidekicks, and Nayuta mentioned the festival. I thought I’d see since the shrine is famous.”
A quick peek at the clothes Todoroki was wearing corroborated his statement - plain, casual everyday clothing, even if it did look like it came out of a fashion spread. Still miles better than the remnants of Izuku’s suit - wrinkled and disheveled like a salaryman who had just come off work and spent three hours at an izakaya. Except his once over wasn’t as discreet as Izuku would have liked - too bright heterochromatic eyes catch his and a sparkle of humor lighted in Todoroki’s eyes. “Do I look okay? Fuyumi bought it.”
As if Todoroki didn’t know he looked excellent. Izuku rolled his eyes back, unable to help the grin that split his face at his old friend’s antics, and fell in step with Todoroki. It should have been uncomfortable, walking together in the crowded festival streets, but was not - it reminded Izuku of years of training and hanging out and all the other antics they got up to in their so-called springtime of youth. He truly didn’t appreciate what he had at that time, Izuku couldn’t help but think with some nostalgic regret. Life was simpler and the future his to mold.
His melancholic thoughts must have shown on his face, because Todoroki asked, “Is everything alright?”
Immediately, Izuku had to combat the tension that squeezed his spine and the way he wanted to immediately be on guard. If there was one thing he had mastered from Yagi’s teachings, it was how to deflect and evade personal questions. Deliberately choosing his words, Izuku spoke casually, “Yeah, why do you ask? Oh look, yakisoba! This must be the specialty shop the kids were talking about, where they have 40 flavors of yakisoba. Supposedly they have a beer flavored one. Can you imagine?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of silver and a streak of pink that matches one of his missing students’ yukata - except, why was Ueno doing a combat roll? And was that Kouta with a water knife?!
Gently, almost imperceptibly, Todoroki steered - no, herded, like Izuku was a wayward sheep lost from the flock - them into the line for the yakisoba stall, and once he’s trapped his quarry, intoned, “You’re not answering your texts, and you haven’t responded to the invite Momo and Iida sent for the class reunion. Or Uraraka. Or Tsuyu. Or Bakugou. Or Mina-. ”
The fact that Todoroki could potentially keep going was embarrassing enough that Izuku waved his flag of surrender. “Okay, okay. I get it. I haven’t been the most communicative person lately.”
Another shrug, and the line inched forward. Izuku mentally lamented that even dressed casually Todoroki was elegant and refined. “You tend to self isolate when you’re stressed or troubled, but you usually are better about asking for help. And if you won't ask for help, well - someone once forcibly intervened in my problems and changed my whole life, and I think they had the right idea.” Izuku couldn’t help the wry, crooked grin that fit the corner of his mouth at the reference to that iconic Sports Fest that still haunted Izuku to this day - it was included in the teachers review prior to every sports fest around what not to permit in the Sports Festival, and featured in the Battle Tactics course for analysis second year.
Distantly, there was an explosion, but a glance at the direction the sound came from revealed a lot of smoke and no one panicking, so he dismissed it in favor of studying the bold signage declaring the stall made cotton candy yakisoba, falafel yakisoba, and american cheeseburger takoyaki yakisoba. He requested the fermented garlic tonkatsu yakisoba, and Todoroki got the takoyaki, with two orders of beer. Silently, they waited for their orders to be prepared. Next to him, Todoroki watched patiently, expectantly, like the golden retriever Yagi-sensei had adopted in his old age when someone had a ball in hand- certain that he’d get what he wanted, sooner or later. Silently, Izuku cursed Aizawa for teaching him that interrogation technique in third year. Finally, after a small eternity, Izuku relented. “Do you ever wonder if we actually made the world a better place? When we fought the League?”
Todoroki’s head tilted quizzically, but his eyes were hawk sharp, assessing. “What do you mean?”
He gestured expansively with a scarred hand, thankfully pain free in the warm autumn air. “Look around - society hasn’t changed since the war. Not significantly, anyways. We fought the League, we promised to save them from their suffering - but then. The problems they pointed out in society still persist. There’s still so much Quirk discrimination, and stereotyping of Quirks. Somedays, I wonder - was it worth it? Did I even make a difference?”
Maybe he was so distraught that he was hallucinating in the dim festival lights, but Izuku could have sworn he saw Ren somersaulting through the air with a halo of magnesium bright lightning around his hand. Ashamed he turned his face away - even All for One taking One for All and destroying them both hadn’t rid him of his latent crying Quirk, and flooding out the festival would be insult to injury, earning him the front page of the Heroes Weekly gossip rag.
A warm hand gently touched his shoulder, a request and comfort in one. And there was no world in which Izuku could ever deny Todoroki anything, so he met Todoroki’s steady, unwavering gaze. Calmly, but firmly, Todoroki asserted, “You made a difference. You are still making a difference. You showed that trying to save people - even villains - makes a world of difference. Do you think anyone other than you could have convinced Spinner to write, sparked sympathy and empathy for villains and started the whole conversation around how society can do better to prevent people from resorting to crime?
“You put yourself and your conviction to be a hero on the line, and that moved mountains in society’s opinion. And sure, it’s not perfect, but you’re still trying. You teach your kids better. I know. I talk with all my interns that come from your tutelage, we all do. And every one of us who takes your kids as interns has noticed how the first thing they always choose to do is de-escalate, to open lines of communication - asking what’s going on, how they can help. You couldn't save Shigaraki, or Toga, or Twice, or my brother - but your kids have saved a lot of almost villains.”
Yagi-sensei had once told Izuku that the most powerful emotion wasn’t love, and he suddenly understood what his old teacher meant - the feeling ripping through his chest could only be called “Hope”, rising up like a geyser and filling his stomach and lungs, overwhelming and choking him with its relentless flow.
Izuku can’t help it when he feels his eyes begin to water - in the face of Todoroki’s sincerity, steadfast in his conviction, Izuku is helpless against the tide of emotion that overflows inside him. Overhead, fireworks bloomed across the night sky - vibrant and almost tangible with how close they were going off over their heads - and he’s grateful that the fireworks were going off so early so no one would notice the tears welling in his eyes. Even dyed so many ever shifting colors, the look in Todoroki’s eyes are unmistakable, unwavering and certain as the sun rising in the east, and maybe, maybe -.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
Just as quickly as he’d been overcome by the flame of hope, it was extinguished in a deluge of beer and yakisoba noodles. “Wh- yuck!” Izuku plucks his sodden work attire from his body, self conscious at how disastrous he looks now. “Todoroki, I’m so sorry - ,” Izuku lifts his gaze from his own ruined outfit, only to boggle and have to choke back laughter.
If he looked bad doused in beer and mildly topped with noodles that would be hell to wash out of his curls, Todoroki looked worse. Like a fluffy, majestic cat doused in water, the best descriptor for Todoroki was “deflated”, only with his damage localized to majority of the noodles having plastered across his face and which were now slowly dripping off. His laughter refused to be contained when Todoroki’s eyes blink open and one hunk of noodles flopped off Todoroki’s hair with a wet sound, and his laughter must be contagious because Todoroki joined in too. He doesn’t know how long they spend laughing, but Izuku felt freer than he has in a long time. Unburdened, like there are no chains holding him back.
The very apologetic staff offered towels and napkins to help them clean up, but the damage is done - there’s no helping the way the beer stains have penetrated his white dress shirt, or the way the sauce had adhered to Todoroki’s shirt and jacket like glue. The fireworks show was still on going - idly, Izuku thought it seemed twice as long as normal, as if making up for how early it had started - so no one noticed them leaving the festival. The silence between them is companionable and easy all the way to the station.
Todoroki tilted his head in the opposite direction, “I have to go that way, but - I hope you had fun tonight.”
“I did. Thank you for hanging out with me. I know I was a bit melancholy, but you reminded me why it’s okay to lean on my friends. Thank you” Izuku smiled, refreshed and easy, and it must be a trick of the distant street light that makes it seem like Todoroki blushed.
Almost shyly, hesitant like he’s afraid of overextending Izuku’s good will, Todoroki asks, “Then will you consider coming to the class reunion?”
It’s a little ridiculously heartwarming, the way that oh so handsome, princely Todoroki can be shy, even after all these years. A warming fondness Izuku has long come to terms with suffuses his chest, gentle and yet all consuming with a touch of pain, even still. “Yeah, I’ll come.”
The smile that Todoroki leaves him with haunts him for the rest of the week.