Archive of Our Own ^beta

April

Yuga was never a fan of school, even before he had the task of betraying the entire establishment resting on his shoulders. 

School would always remind him that he was different. First he had been quirkless, now he had a quirk that had left ghastly scars. 

Secondly, was all the bullying. Even in a world where people had incredible powers, they still felt a need to bash queer folk. It was a lot less common to see nowadays then he’d heard about it being in the past. 

His heart twisted just imagining how bad things must have been back then. He’d heard of a time when queer people and quirk-bearing people had to work together to fight for rights. They’d all faced a lot of violence, oppression, but they’d gotten their goal. 

Ironic, for those with quirks, since at present times, those without quirks faced discrimination. 

Such were the thoughts that swam inside his brain. Halfway nonsensical, mostly meaningless. Random sporadic things that could never hold any purpose. A lot like his life, if he thought about it. 

“Is that rose really that interesting?” 

Yuga turned. A blonde boy about his age was staring at him inquisitively. “Why yes, in fact. It is.”

The kid snickered. “Okay, weirdo.” He trotted over to him. “Roses are probably the worst flower.”

“Who said I wasn't staring at it in disgust?” Yuga retorted. 

The kid rolled his slate blue eyes. “Dude, it's not that deep. Like whatever flowers you want.” 

“You're the one who initiated this conversation, monsieur.” Yuga pointed out.

“Don't call me sir. We're like the same age.” The kid crossed his arms, shooting Yuga a borderline offended look. 

“désolé.” 

“You really are weird. What are you apologizing for?” 

Yuga blinked rapidly at this random person who had just interrupted his self-loathing for no good reason. “What do you want from moi?” 

The kid shrugged. “I was bored. I saw you. You were just looking at that rose, I struck up conversation. Viola, now we're here.” His confidence reminded Yuga of how he would have to act to gain the trust of his soon to be classmates. 

“Ah, I see.” 

The kid stepped closer to Yuga. “So what are you doing?” 

“Looking at the flowers.” 

“They're quite pretty, aren't they? Despite being roses, I mean.” 

“Indeed.” Yuga agreed.

“So pretty, yet so defensive.” The kid’s empty eyes shimmered. “They have thorns to defend themselves from their enemies, and yet the beauty that is their flower shines through. However, the flower is what is vulnerable. It can be destroyed easily.” He plucked one of the petals in demonstration. “Though if not for the delicate flower, no one would like it. Truly a shame.” He finished. 

Yuga took in the words, seeing quite plainly that the kid was not talking about flowers. “For someone who thinks roses are the worst flower, you've certainly put a lot of thought into them.” He remarked. 

“Ha. . . I hate them because they're just like me.” His smile faltered, shifting into a frown. His eyes glazed, then went blank once more. 

Yuga suddenly understood that he was not the only one here who had a front to put up. 

“Society is not ready to admit that it has a right to its thorns.” Yuga spoke softly, carefully running his hand over the delicate red petals of the flower. “It can only be accepted if it is appealing.” 

“The people believe it is not worth anything unless they can use it for something. It is not enough for them to simply admire the strength of its thorns.” 

“. . . We're making a metaphor out of roses for no reason.” Yuga sighed. 

The kid shrugged. “Eh. Not like we're ever going to talk again anyways. I gotta practice.”

“Practice for what?” Yuga inquired. 

“I am the flower.” His lovely personal space intruder answered. “I need to seem like I've got some redeeming qualities, so I have people willing to support me.” He chuckled dryly. “No one's ever liked my authentic self.”

“Is this your authentic self?”

“Somewhat, yes. I haven't been fully honest in my presentation in years. I'm not even sure I can anymore, it's been so long.” Regret filled his voice, he closed his eyes, drawing in a shuddering breath. “My authentic self. . . Is a pathetic, self-doubt littered asshole. Truly, I don't know why I expect people to give a damn about me.” 

His voiced thoughts hit far too close to home for Yuga’s liking. Yuga thought the same things about himself while he lay awake in bed. Sleepless nights swamped in anger at his own worthlessness. 

He'd convinced himself he was the only one who felt these things. He was wrong. 

He was face to face with someone who experienced what he did almost exactly. And they didn't even know each other. 

The stranger flicked his sleek blonde hair. “Well, I must be going. Can I get your name, just for the hell of it?” All his former emotions evaporated in an instant. Sweeping them away was like second nature to him, it appeared. 

“Yuga Aoyama.” His chest tightened at the thought that the one person he related to would be gone so soon. “May I get your name, too? Just for the sake of fairness.”

“Neito Monoma.”

May

Neito lost. He lost round one. It was the Sports Festival, his chance to prove himself, and he bombed it immediately. Everyone had seen it. Everyone had been watching. 

They all saw him fail. He knew his family would have been watching, and they had seen him fail. He'd assured them he would make it further than this. He was going to be a hero. He was going to become an amazing hero just like Freza had been. 

The humiliation coursing through his body was completely overpowering. He forced down his shame to taunt his opponent before returning to the building. 

He swiftly headed down the hall, heading to the restroom. He would not be seen like this. Not when he was about five seconds away from his entire front shattering.

He stared at himself in the mirror, taking in the desolate eyes he'd grown so used to staring back at him. 

They reflected how little he cared about anything. No matter how much he shouted insults, screeched demeaning things, or provoked fights. He just couldn't find any anger in his soul. 

He was so good at lying. So good at pretending to be angry when he didn't mean a word of it. 

He tried not to care entirely. It was impossible though. His mind was a constant flood of sadness. As well as anger at himself and no one else. 

He wasn't even a damn rose. His thorns weren't a defense mechanism. They were just there. He could retract them, but he would not. 

He couldn't even fully throw his morals away. He had been in the middle of insulting class 1-a, when he had seen a very familiar face in the crowd. 

The flawless face of Yuga Aoyama. He thought he would never see his fellow flower again. But here they were, in opposite classes of the hero course. 

That meant his actions would have consequences. Him spilling his guts would come back to bite him. As it always did. This was why he'd closed himself off years ago. 

He felt warm liquid trailing down his cheeks. He cried a lot. Each year that passed only seemed to increase his capacity for tears. He couldn't do this in public, though. That could only lead to issues. 

He quickly dried his face. A futile effort, he could not force the tears to stop. His hands had begun to shake, as though this could not get worse. 

He froze up when he heard the approaching patter of footsteps. 

He managed to set his face in a normal expression, yet the insufferable rivers would not cease their flow. 

“Monoma?” 

That voice. That lovely voice. It was a melody. No matter how it was toned, no matter the words used. It was always harmonized so perfectly. 

Well, he'd already poured his pitiful self to this boy before. Seeing him sulking after a match wasn't too much more damaging to his no doubt horrendous reputation. 

“Hello, Aoyama.” Neito's voice had been forsaken by some unseen deity into shaking. “I suppose I should have mentioned I was in the hero course. But why would heroes have come up in our conversation?” 

Aoyama hesitantly walked over to him. “Are you alright?”

Neito laughed. As though this was funny. As though he didn't feel like his entire life was actively crumbling around him. “Of course I'm alright! All I've done is lose to a pathetic 1-a child. Nothing about that would ever matter to me. People lose sometimes. My ego can handle it.” 

He would not mention that he had no ego to speak of. It was as fake as the rest of his personality. Aoyama could probably figure that out. 

Judging by the look on his face, he already had. “Monoma, you don't really believe what you say about my class, do you?” His voice was pitying. Neito hated being pitied. 

“Of course I believe it! It's true, isn't it?” Neito snapped, fighting to keep from breaking down. 

“It's not true. You know it.” Aoyama’s voice hardened. 

Neito glared at him. “You don't know anything about me!” 

The other boy was silent for a moment. “You push people away.” He stated calmly. “You refuse to let anyone get close to you, because you're scared of what they'll think.”

Neito hated how sure of himself Aoyama sounded. Mostly because he hit the nail on the head. 

“Don't pretend you know what I'm thinking. But you're right.” He relented. 

“. . . People give a damn about you.”

“Pardon?” 

Aoyama's indigo eyes narrowed. “Last month, you told me you didn't expect people to give a damn about you. They do regardless.”

Neito scoffed a laugh. “What makes you say that?” 

“That student who hangs around you. She kept scolding you, but still stuck by your side. Appreciate what you have.” 

Neito could detect a flurry of emotions hidden within those words. A lot of regret and sorrow. There was even a little envy. 

“. . . You don't have friends, do you?” Such a tactless question. That was what happened when Neito let his guard slip. 

Aoyama shook his head. “No. Not even any people who appreciate my mask. You're lucky. You have found those who will support you even at your worst. You've won a lottery you didn't even enter. Congratulations.” He sounded genuinely happy for him. It made Neito’s guilt reach a climax. 

“You'll find people too.” Neito said quietly. “You've got a lot going for you. I'm sure you've got a lot to like under your disguise.”

Aoyama winced ever so slightly. “If only you knew. . .” He sighed. 

“Isn't your match coming up?” Neito asked. It seemed abrupt, but he didn't want Aoyama to waste his time here. 

Aoyama nodded. “Goodbye, Monoma.” And then he was gone. 

Neito watched him go, regret tugging at his heart. He wished they could be friends. It wasn't in the cards, however. Neito had already established his image as the self-righteous hater of 1-a. 

His image couldn't afford to take hits so major as having a friend in 1-a. It was a regret he would carry for the rest of his life. He knew it now. 

Years in the future, he'd look back on this conversation and wonder why he'd been so petulant as to make this choice. 

Ah, anticipating future consequences and still doing nothing about it. How typical of him. 

June

Yuga found himself thinking about Monoma fairly often. Despite the fact that they had not spoken since the Sports Festival. Over a month ago. 

And yet he couldn't stop thinking about the expression on the blonde’s face. The sheer despair that screamed from the depths of them. It haunted him. 

They were so alike. Or at least Yuga had gathered that from their two conversations. It was like looking in a mirror, if mirrors reflected mental status. 

Yuga hadn't even seen Monoma in a week and his thoughts were still being invaded by the pretty 1-b student. 

Well, it had been a week. Before the hero course had decided to mix classes for a training exercise. It was anyone's guess what form of luck paired Yuga and Monoma together. 

Monoma had stopped complaining about this training the second his teammate was announced. He'd turned to look at Yuga, blinked, then shut his mouth. 

Yuga became acutely aware of something. He didn't see Monoma often because the boy refused to insult him directly. He'd generalize the whole class, but never actually singled Yuga out, thus the antagonist of 1-a was never brought to his attention.

“Lovely to see you again.” Yuga said when he got to his partner's side. 

“Save your sarcasm.” Monoma grumbled, glare more intense than the fires of Helios. 

“It wasn't sarcasm, mon ami.” If anything, the sarcasm was them being friends. They'd seen each other maybe seven times. Not even half of those held conversations. 

Monoma eyed him up and down, deciding to accept those words with a nod, and they started talking strategy. 

The training was beyond simple. Each team had a flag, if their flag was taken and reached another team's ‘base’ then they were out. 

It reminded Yuga of games he'd play in primary school, just with an actually potentially dangerous battlefield. 

He wondered if it was so simple because the classes didn't work together often, and they could already anticipate the outcome. Good thing they'd put Monoma with the one class 1-a kid he could tolerate. 

Monoma surveyed the landscape. “It's meant to appear miniscule. They're teaching us a mental skill rather than a physical one.” 

Yuga glanced at him questioningly.

He continued, “This seems like an easy task. Someone is bound to not take it seriously. They're counting on that. They want to remind us that if something seems easy, that doesn't mean it will be. Smart.” 

“You might be reading too far into it.” Yuga pointed out. “Maybe they're counting on us overthinking it.” 

“Tch. We could do this back and forth all day, let's just get on with it.” Monoma darted forward the second it began, Yuga at his heels. 

Their first plan was to find a dysfunctional pair and take advantage of that weakness. 

Komori and Kaminari were the best choice for targets. Their quirks didn't mix well, for one. For second, Kaminari was far from the most strategic of Yuga's class. 

Yuga distracted them while Monoma snagged the flag. Monoma nodded at Yuga and rushed off. 

Yuga kept the enemy team's attention. After it was announced that Komori and Kaminari's team was out, Yuga rushed off to rejoin Monoma. 

He was waiting for him near their base. “Since we took the first flag, we're going to get targeted.” He said casually. 

They'd left it unguarded before because of how close it was to their target. Now they had to go on defense. 

The first team to go after them was Hagakure and Kendo. How ironic. Their respective best friends were on a team. 

Yuga exchanged a glance with Monoma. His teammate nodded towards their flag. Yuga nodded back, swiftly jumping in front of the flag and protecting it from Hagakure. 

Technically, they didn't know if Kendo's teammate was with her, but it was a fairly easy conclusion to draw. 

Kendo noticed how in sync they were. “Even if you guys are going to lose, it's nice to see how well you work together.” It seemed like a jibe at Monoma. 

The latter let out a maniac cackle. “*Working together*?! Me, and a 1-a student? What an atrocious suggestion!” 

Yuga saw exactly what Kendo was doing. She was trying to distract them. It was working, for Monoma anyway. “Ne perdez pas votre concentration, c'est leur objectif.” He didn't know how much French Monoma understood, but it was his best bet at getting the message across without their opponents understanding. 

Thankfully, Monoma at the very least understood what he meant. He stopped talking, instead focusing on Kendo, watching to see what her next move would be. 

Yuga kept glancing around, trying to see if he could catch glances of Hagakure. 

That did not do much, because she snuck up on him and kicked him down with minimal difficulty. 

Yuga tried to activate his quirk to retaliate, but Kendo swiftly smacked him aside. 

Monoma narrowed his eyes in focus, then shot forward and delivered a swift kick to Hagakure. The sound of tumbling could be heard. 

Kendo cursed under her breath. Yuga managed to get to his feet, and decided to try to fight her off, since Monoma seemed to have Hagakure covered. 

Kendo eyed him up and down. “Ya know, your quirk is really powerful, and since you've not activated it yet, I'm assuming it's got a really bad drawback, right?” 

He didn't say anything, just prepared himself for another attack. 

Kendo smirked. “That's what I thought.” She attacked again. 

Yuga dodged out of the way, activating his quirk as he did so. Kendo dodged as well. It was a lot more consequential for him to miss an attack than her, considering how much pain it caused him. 

Yuga realized Monoma had disappeared at some point. Had he abandoned him? No, that couldn't be it. Monoma must have a plan. . . That he left Yuga out of. Okay, he'd been abandoned. But he had to trust Monoma to know what he was doing. 

He had to worry about keeping Kendo distracted. That was the main thing. 

What was probably only ten minutes, felt like centuries of torment. Yuga was in so much agony that he might as well have actually been hit by Kendo’s attacks. She noticed how badly he was struggling, a slight gleam of sympathy in her eyes. 

Yuga wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer. He knew that. 

Damnit Monoma. What the hell were you doing? 

Just as Kendo was about to make her final strike, she froze, quirk abruptly being cancelled. 

Overhead, her team's defeat was announced. To their left, stood Monoma. Barely over the border of the base, holding both his team's flag and Kendo and Hagakure’s. 

Kendo sighed. “Nice work, you two.” She said before running back to her base. 

Yuga almost collapsed on the spot, but Monoma grabbed his wrist and roughly yanked him upright. “Hey, pass out after we win this thing, alright?’ 

Yuga chuckled despite the pain. “Alright.”

July

Ah, the training camp. Set in such a beautiful and serene forest. Such grueling work the hero students were expected to do. As most things in society, the more beautiful, the more horrendous it was on the inside. 

That was such a lovely pattern. One Neito was not breaking any time soon. 

He'd never let anyone know this, but the worst part about this experience for him was interacting with his classmates. 

He wasn't an introvert by any means, but his social battery got quite limited in hot weather. He preferred the cold. By a lot. Though even then he detested it. 

Kendo walked over to him. “Hey, you okay? You seem a lot quieter than usual.”

Neito huffed. “You complain when I'm loud but worry when I'm quiet. How contradictory.” 

Kendo smiled softly. “You don't usually listen.” 

“Hmph.” Neito crossed his arms. “I listen to things worth hearing.”

Kendo chuckled wryly. “Right.”

Neito narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.” Kendo lied, quite blatantly so. 

Neito just rolled his eyes in response. He moved to the edge of the crowd of hero students. If they hadn't been outside, he would have been standing in the corner of the room. 

He sat down on the grass, looking up to see a sky already flecked with stars, somewhat hard to spot amongst their flame-streaked residence. 

“Fancy seeing you here, monsieur.” 

Neito turned to Aoyama, clicking his tongue in irritation. “I swear I've told you not to call me that before.” 

Despite his words, he was pleased to see the exception to the rule of the deceit of looks. They'd not spoken since absolutely demolishing the competition during the training exercise. 

So strange, wasn't it? They worked so well with each other, shared secrets they wouldn't dare tell another soul, and yet they never made time to actively spend with each other. 

Aoyama sat down beside him, as though that was a quite normal thing. As though they were anything beyond acquaintances. “That would be because you have.” He said softly. “Will you now tell me to leave you be?”

“No.” Aoyama seemed quite surprised that Neito didn't protest. Well, he was too exhausted to care about his reputation. “What brings you over here, anyway?” 

“Can't care to be social right now.”

“You don't have as much of a social battery as you pretend.” Neito corrected, proud of himself for being able to see what Aoyama wouldn't say. 

The hero student was silent for a few moments, then nodded. “You're right.” 

Neito had no way to continue the conversation past that. So he didn't. 

The two sat in silence, watching as the sun ended its shift in the aerial plane. 

The silence did not need to be filled. For better or for worse, they understood each other without words. 

It was clear to both of them that they were very good liars. Neito and Aoyama put up a front so often they forgot what they were really, truly like. 

It didn't have to be said. Neito could see it. He knew it from first-hand experience. 

He'd never understand why Aoyama had a front. He was absolutely stunning and extremely sweet without it. Within it, he seemed quite narcissistic, like Neito. 

Why was he? Neito had to tone down his horrible qualities, Aoyama created some. 

It would always baffle him. 

That was a problem that could be fixed if he just stopped thinking about Aoyama. Alas, things could not be that simple. The beautiful French boy had firmly planted roots in his mind, and had zero intentions of leaving. 

A night breeze started up as the moon began to glint overhead. 

The ice that was silence was shattered when Aoyama spoke five simple words. “You're not a bad person.” 

Neito must have heard him incorrectly. Not one soul, outside his wishfully thinking family, had ever uttered those words to him. “Sorry, what did you say?” 

Aoyama blinked at Neito with eyes full of pity. That damn pitiful face was back again. “You are not a bad person.” He drew out every word so that there could be no mistake. 

Neito laughed dryly. “You don't even know me. You can't draw that conclusion.” 

He blinked once more. “I do barely know you. But I'm not blinded by the bias that everyone else's first impression of you brought. I'm not foolish enough to believe you're what you present yourself as.” 

Neito turned away, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. No. He doesn't mean that. He's not stupid enough to think I'm a good person. His family were the only people who thought that. They were wrong, but he couldn’t blame them for wanting to believe they didn't have such a worthless person in their family. 

Aoyama had no reason to believe Neito wasn't a shallow piece of shit. So why was he saying that? 

“I know you don't believe it. You don't have to try to empathize with me.” Neito fought to keep his voice steady. 

Don't show your feelings. Don't be even more of a burden than you already-

His thought didn't complete. Aoyama had wrapped his arms around him, saying nothing. 

That did it. That snapped what little composure he had left. Tears slipped down his cheeks. He turned back to Aoyama, staring at him questioningly. 

He hadn't been hugged in years. Mostly because no one knew his state of mind. They all hated him at worst, tolerated him at best. 

Why was Aoyama. . . not? 

Aoyama's ever present smile softened. He understood Neito's unspoken question, and answered it. “You looked like you needed it. You still do.” He added quietly. 

Neito forcefully pulled himself together. “Thank you.” He managed to splutter out the sentence. 

“It's no big deal, truly. Even if you don't think so, you deserve a lot more than what you've been dealt. You don't have to put on an act. People will hate you regardless. Remember that, could you?” 

Neito shocked himself by the sincerity that was present when he said, “I'll try. I. . . promise.” 

August

When Yuga thought of friendship, he didn't usually imagine people he never actively spoke to, but still felt like he understood more than people he'd known all his life. 

But that seemed to be the case with Neito Monoma. 

The two had spoken four times in the five months they'd known each other, yet they somehow understood each other better than most other people. 

Well, five times, now. 

Today, they'd found themselves together once again. It was an even more hectic Lunch period than usual, and Monoma had straight up asked him to eat outside with him. 

So, yeah, they were doing that now. It was pleasant and much quieter out here. 

“Why did you choose to ask me?” Yuga asked out of genuine curiosity. 

Monoma shrugged. “August is almost over, and I figured we'd end up following the pattern of a monthly conversation anyway. Oh, and I quite enjoy talking to you.” 

Yuga's face got a little warmer. “Keep talking like that, and I just might think you like spending time with me.” 

“No. You make it too hard to keep my act up.” Monoma said with complete sincerity. 

“. . . Ah.”

“Thanks for the advice. No sarcasm. But I will not be following it.” He went on. “You don't have to put up a front, I do. Besides, I can't just abruptly stop. That would come with too many questions and be too needlessly complicated.” 

Yuga sighed. “I suppose that is true.” He could not say he understood, because lying to Monoma would be a fruitless effort. 

He would never be able to fathom why he got such a serotonin boost when being around Monoma, talking to him was actually incredibly heart-wrenching. 

This pessimistic, very clearly traumatized child was so much like him. Always blaming himself for everything. But Monoma had no reason to do that. 

Sure, acting sadistic and spiteful was far from ideal. Still, it wasn't nearly as horrible as actively supplying information to the enemy. It would never compare to the sheer scale of treason committed by Yuga. 

He wished he could convince Monoma that he, even with his persona up. . .-Or down, considering how he thought of himself- he wasn't half as bad a person as he thought. 

He didn't want to push it. They hardly spoke, after all. It would be an overstep of boundaries. 

Monoma fiddled with a small silver necklace that Yuga was sure he hadn't had until recently. “You know, I don't think we've ever spoken about our lives.”

“I believe that is because our conversations were centered on us as individuals.”

Monoma rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” Another quirk about him, whenever he used his persona with Yuga, his expression contorted into a slight wince for half a second. “Who are your friends? I'm sure you've noticed Kendo is practically always with me. Most people think she's just there to keep me in line, but we're actually quite good friends as well.” He flashed his necklace. “She got matching feather charm necklaces for us. . .” A note of sadness lingered in his voice.

Yuga tipped his head. “You sound upset about that.” 

Monoma shook his head. “No. It's just that. . . I had an older sister. Her name was Freza. Which is derived from ‘feather’. She was a pro-hero, and she died six years ago, one of the casualties of All Might's first fight with All For One.” 

Yuga's throat dried at the mention of *that* man. “I can't imagine how hard that was for you.”

“No. I'm sure you can. You might not have any siblings, but I can tell you've gone through something horrible at least once. I've got great parents, grandparents, and friends. My family has more money than God but I don't have a bad home life. So I have things pretty good. What about you?” 

Yuga sighed, turning his gaze to the ground. “My parents. . . Are something. I guess that's the best way to describe them. They love me. I suppose. . . But they don't always make the best decisions.”

What he couldn't say, was that his parents had been so distraught to learn he was quirkless, that they had sought out All For One. 

They'd not expected the payment to be so severe. But they really should have. He was fucking All For One for God’s sake. 

They claimed they just wanted Yuga to have a normal life. But honestly, he believed they were just too scared of him being different. 

Ironic when he was part of two minorities. Ha. . .

That was another thing, their homophobia. Oh, that he could talk about. 

“They're not tolerant of all queer folk. Only those on the ace spectrum and female-to-male and reverse trans people. So. . . They only support me halfway. Not that they know I'm gay. I don't like talking to them, as bad as that makes me feel. Because, they're still my parents, right?” 

Monoma quietly listened to his whole rant, silence included, then shook his head. “No. Just because they're your parents doesn't mean you owe them anything. You didn't ask to be born. They, probably, chose to have a child.” He seemed to draw some conclusions from Yuga's silence. Or. . . His tears. He was crying now. 

“Thank you. I. . . Really appreciate it.” 

Guilt was tearing up at his heart. He was actively betraying the person he'd been the most honest with. 

Was this his karma? Caring so deeply about who he would inevitably have to betray? What would happen, when the day came that Monoma found out? 

Frankly, Yuga was sure he'd rather lose everything he had then have to find out. 

September

Neito was always confused by how much time his parents had. They were billionaires, but still had the time to take Neito to the animal shelter he'd chosen to volunteer at. 

He'd been feeling like an extra shitty person lately. His childhood cat, Mr. Cheddar, had passed away. 

The cat had been a former stray. One found by Freza when she was still attending UA. 

In some way, he was like a remnant of her. And he was gone. 

Neito figured he should honor his dead cat by helping other animals in need. And, in a way, he was honoring Freza. She had always adored animals. 

After his parents dropped him off, Neito headed inside the building. His eyes widened when he spotted a very familiar sixteen-year-old boy with purple eyes. 

He quite elegantly greeted him. “Oh, hey, Aoyama.” He should really get into writing. 

“Monoma! I didn't expect to see you here.” He swore Aoyama started smiling wider. It made his cheeks heat up. 

“Well, that's what coincidences are.” Neito could apply for a college degree with these masterful sentences. “Just out of curiosity, what brings you here?” 

Aoyama shrugged. “I just felt like spending my Saturday doing something good.”

As usual, he was being less selfish than Neito. Sure, this was one of the least selfish things Neito had done in his life, but it was still there. 

He always ended up doing something with his own gain in mind. How sad was that? He couldn't do one thing simply for the good of it. 

Why did he even think he could be a hero? Should he even be a hero if his motivations weren't pure? 

His thoughts were cut short when a hand laid on his shoulder. He flinched back, glancing over at Aoyama. “I'm fine.” He said before the question could even be asked. 

His friend nodded. “Alright.” He seemed beyond unconvinced, like he'd completely expected the response. And perhaps he had. Sometimes he was scared Aoyama knew him better than he knew himself. 

Neito really should volunteer at places like these more often. 

He and Aoyama were having hardly any trouble, which had been his main concern(getting bitten and such). Most of the animals were quite friendly. Neito would have to ask his parents if he could adopt one of them. 

A golden brown cat named Maple Syrup sat at Aoyama's feet. It seemed uninterested in socializing with the other cats, and more interested in getting human attention. A good strategy when it came to getting adopted. 

However, the cat was having a difficult time. The workers had theorized that it was due to her missing eye. Children found it scary, and older people thought caring for a cat with a disability would be too difficult. 

It was so peculiar, even in a society like theirs, people-animals, in this case-still got discriminated against for things outside their control. 

One of the other cats, a small calico named Solace, was running around the play area. His fur was puffed out, and he kept chasing the other cats. Neito laughed as he watched the little creature’s antics. 

Maple Syrup hesitantly padded forward, sniffing curiously at a skinny old cat named Nico. Nico’s tail started twitching, but he didn’t bat Maple Syrup away. 

Aoyama walked over to Neito. “Aw, look, it’s us in cat form.” 

Neito rolled his eyes. “Psh. Which one would be me?”

“Certainly not the cat trying to socialize.” 

Neito shot him a glare. “Speaking of socializing, you never quite answered my question.” 

Aoyama blinked in confusion. “What question? You’ll have to excuse me for not remembering, the last time we spoke was a month ago.” 

That was always how it went. Fate itself had to force them to speak with each other. They never dared approach each other on their own, save one instance when Neito had stopped being a coward. 

For some unspoken reason, they put distance between them. It didn’t make any sense. They understood each other so well, and still they were like this. 

Neito had an inclination that it was mostly Aoyama who pulled back, sometimes it seemed like he did debate speaking with him, ultimately deciding to leave him alone. Neito’s somehow existent social anxiety, paired with his stubbornness to adhere to hatred of 1-a, meant he didn’t initiate either. 

Thoughts such as these tormented his mind often. As much as he wanted answers, he was always terrified as to what they would be. 

“I asked you who your friends were.” Neito finally said. His thoughts went quite fast, hopefully his silence hadn’t been too deafening. 

Aoyama didn’t seem to have noticed. “Well. . , my best friend is Hagakure.”

“The invisible girl, right?”

“Qui. Midoriya and I have gotten quite close too.” 

Neito waited as the silence stretched on. “Hm. Only two? I’m surprised, considering you’re probably one of the easiest people to talk to.” 

Aoyama sighed. “I. . . have a bit of an aversion to making friends.” He crouched down when Maple Syrup returned to him. 

Neito looked away. That sentiment hit far too close to home. “Huh. . . but why?” 

Aoyama’s eyes darkened. “It’s complicated. . . It’s not so much that I don’t want to tell you. I simply can’t.” 

“Can’t.” Neito echoed. 

Now, his first conclusion was not that Aoyama was just not open enough to tell him. They were long past that point. Somehow. It truly was perplexing as to how their dynamic came about. No, instead he assumed that it was something incriminating. Considering what Aoyama had said about his parents, he figured they must have had something to do with it. 

Though he pushed that to the back of his mind, it didn't seem all too important at that moment. Also because that was an insane leap to make. 

Neito knelt down beside Aoyama, scratching Maple Syrup’s chin. “Sometimes that’s how life goes, doesn’t it?” he asked, as much to himself as Aoyama. “As much as you want to say something, it’s impossible. Consequences, tangible or otherwise, outweigh the possible positives from saying anything.” 

Aoyama nodded slowly. 

Neito set his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “For whatever it’s worth, If there’s anything you can tell me, I'm willing to listen.” 

Aoyama looked up at him, blinking in mingled shock in confusion. “. . . Thank you.” It seemed like he wanted to say more, yet his mouth remained fixed closed. 

Neito wasn’t sure if he’d expected any differently. He felt no way about it, he understood the closed off nature of truth Aoyama carried. Why wouldn’t he? He had it too.

Maybe that was why they got along so well. 

October

Yuga always loved fall. More specifically, he loved October. It was the warmest of the autumn season, excluding September. The leaves were turning orange and not yet brown. The air felt the most crisp, in some strange way. It was just overall pleasant. 

Everything was getting so hectic at UA. The year was halfway over, and villain attacks were only getting worse. Yuga could hardly stand to be there for long periods of time, the horrible guilt tore into him. The pain of his classmates, it was all his fault. 

Selfish as it was, he wanted to get away from it as much as possible, in order to keep himself from breaking down in tears.

So he found himself returning to the same park every day after school. The same park where he’d first met Monoma. He’d not even done this on purpose. Strange considering the fact, this park was actually even more effort to get to than one he preferred. Yet still, he came here. 

He placed the blame on all the thoughts he had about the gorgeous boy. He wished they could spend more time together. But it wasn’t in the cards. They could never be anything meaningful. 

It was hard enough that he had to betray Deku and Toru. His heart might be physically torn from his chest if he got any closer with Monoma. 

He thought of the smile he’d always seen on Monoma’s face, the fake one. He knew it was fake, because he had seen the real one. Last month, but he could picture it clear as day. It was so soft, so subtle. But it was there. It was the purest thing he had ever seen. It caused his heart to flutter. 

“Deja vu has struck today.” 

Yuga was somehow entirely unsurprised to hear Monoma’s voice. “Good afternoon, mon ami. What brings you here?” 

Monoma’s slate blue eyes lit up in an odd way when he spoke, as though the very sound of his voice pleased him. “I just felt like passing through here. Me and Freza used to gather flowers to give out to people.” Grief weighed on his words. “Her birthday was last week. She would have been twenty-five.” 

Yuga blinked. “Huh. . . My aunt’s birthday was three days ago. I think. I don't quite remember the exact date. My parents and her have been estranged for years.” *Because of All For One.* He added silently. “. . . Sometimes I blame my parents for things that aren't their fault. Like never telling me about her death. Why would they? I was thirteen and hadn't seen her in years- Sorry. I'm trauma-dumping.”

“That is quite literally all we do.” Monoma shrugged. “Anyway, not-so-fun coincidences aside, since we're both here anyways, wanna come on a walk with me?” 

Yuga had absolutely no words. He nodded mutely, unwilling to pass up this opportunity, even though he knew he really should have. 

Monoma chuckled at his reaction. “Oh, come on, you didn't expect me to not make the offer, did you?” 

Yuga couldn't entirely argue with that, though it did make him strangely flustered. 

He joined Monoma's side, feeling his false smile melt off his face when Monoma's did too. If his friend could get any more beautiful, he had just done it. 

The serene scenery of vibrant autumn leaves dancing through the air as the wind held them up did not even begin to rival the angelic glory of Neito Monoma.

He was so unapproachable by conventional standards, but Yuga saw past his deflective wall he built around himself. He saw a kind-hearted individual who put others first. Despite all of his faults, he would make an amazing hero one day. 

On the shallower side, Yuga still could not get over how breathtaking Monoma was. His eyes were like a clear lake during pleasant rainfall. His hair was usually sleeked down. Yuga had realized he used hair gel. His normal hair was a fluffy cream-colored cloud. Yuga wondered why he'd conceal such a perfect thing. 

Then again, so many aspects of Monoma were hidden even when they were absolutely flawless. 

Monoma's hand drifted over to Yuga's. “It's too fucking cold for only October.” He grumbled. 

Yuga shrugged. “It’s been colder, even this year. The breeze is merely quite strong today.”

“My point stands.” Monoma's pinkie twined with Yuga's. Neither of them acknowledged it. It was as though this was the most natural thing in the world. “Even if I prefer it over warmer seasons. I still hate the cold.” Yuga got the impression he hated a lot of things. 

“I'm not entirely fond of it, to be honest. I would rather be cold than burning hot, though.”

Monoma considered how to continue the conversation for a few moments. “July and August are my least favorite months. The heat is unbearable. Kendo had to literally drag me outside on multiple occasions because I would rather get in trouble than face the unforgiving sun.” 

Yuga couldn't help but giggle at the mental image this conjured. “Is that why you were even more irritable during those times?” 

“You say that as though you would've taken note. We seem to tread on separate paths even more in recent times.”

“Why do I get the feeling you're trying to sound philosophical?” 

“This is about how I've always talked to you. And yes, I am doing that. Just because.” 

“Oh, I know. I've just decided to acknowledge it aloud.”

“We talk almost the same. Is that why we so rarely interact? Only opposites are supposed to attract?” He toned it like a joke, the pain that shimmered in his gaze told a different story. 

Yuga's chest tightened. He wished he could explain that this was how things had to be. Monoma couldn't get attached to him. It would only make both of their agony worse. 

“There aren't many opportunities for us to speak.” A feeble defense, truly. He wished he had more to offer. A more valid explanation for his harsh behavior of avoidance. 

Monoma chuckled dryly. “Ah, I've noticed that. But you're always such a joy to talk to.”

“Our distance gives us time to fully dissect what we have told each other.” Yuga offered half-heartedly. 

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder, I suppose.” Monoma agreed. “Perhaps that's why I can unfathomably consider you to be my closest friend.”

That was just a stab to his heart. He almost started sobbing on the spot, just managing to hold himself together. “. . . I really appreciate that.” His voice trembled with emotion. “I return the sentiment. You've woven yourself so deep in my mind, it would simply be wrong to call you anything less than my dearest friend.” He couldn't keep all the tears. What was conveyed came off like overwhelming joy. And for the most part, it truly was. 

Monoma looked away, eyes cloudy. He sounded equally choked up when he replied, “I'm really glad we ran into each other. Even if you're making me cry over here, Yuga.” 

“Well, you've accomplished the same. So it's only fair, Neito.” 

November

Neito might have been partially joking last month, saying distance made the heart grow fonder. But damn it, he meant it now. 

He told himself that it was perfectly normal to miss someone after not speaking to them in three weeks. 

It was not a very convincing lie. 

He knew Yuga wasn't just someone. Yuga was the adorable, sparkly boy who had invaded his conscience.

This wouldn't be a problem, if they talked more than six times.

He was driven from his thoughts when Kendo tapped him on the shoulder. “Monoma? Are you alright?” 

He glared at her, annoyed she'd disrupted his thoughts about Yuga. 

. . . What the hell is wrong with me?

“I'm fine. Is thinking no longer aloud in this school?”

She rolled her eyes. “Right.” A smirk graced her lips. “Who are you thinking about?” 

“There's no who.” Neito denied. 

She was unconvinced. “Oh. So you're not thinking about a certain 1-a French kid. . . You sure?” 

“. . . I have no idea what you're talking about.” Neito lied. 

Kendo's eyes widened. “Oh my God. . . You like him.” 

“I DO NOT!” His voice ended up being a lot higher pitched than he intended. 

Kendo wouldn't believe any argument he tried to make, judging by the look on her face. “Is that why you always avoid him? I just thought you didn't want anyone to know you were friends with a 1-a kid.” 

“Say I did like him. . . what even gave you that idea?” 

“For one, that phrasing. But the actual answer is that you’re not screaming at me for such an accusation, as you’d call it. Oh, and you’re blushing.” 

Neito turned his gaze to the ground. “. . . Shut up.” Such elegant words. He’d not even known he possessed such articulate language. 

“I rest my case.” 

“There is no case to speak of.” He snapped. 

“Mhm.” He could rest easy knowing that he’d fooled Kendo so easily. 

Their lovely conversation was cut short when the bell rang and class started. Kendo returned to her seat. Someone asked her what she’d said to him, and she at least had the decency to lie. Though he couldn’t consider that a win, because why would she spill his secrets? 

His day had started poorly, and was just going to get worse, apparently. Within the first two minutes of class, Vlad King announced that the hero course classes would be teaming up again, but it wasn’t even hero related. It was for an English project. 

What the fuck did I do to piss off fate? Pairing up with 1-a was bad enough, but for English? Neito’s worst class? He was just being mocked at this point.  

The attempt of a saving grace at this blunder was that they would get to pick their own partners. Neito was mildly comforted by this, but he also was afraid Yuga would say no. 

Why would he? An excellent question. There was no answer. It was just another drop in Neito’s bucket of baseless worries. 

The class started muttering together, asking who wanted to pair up with who. Neito said nothing, even though everyone kept glancing at him as though awaiting a protest. He didn’t even bother. 

“Hey, Monoma, are you just going to get a zero on the project rather than work with a 1-a kid?” Awase asked. 

Neito rolled his eyes. “I’m sure someone in that horrible class at least knows English. We will have to put our rivalry aside for the greater good.” 

Kendo snorted in amusement. 

Something in Neito’s favor, Yuga was actually really good at English. So at least his pathetic attempt at a cover actually checked out. 

Neito wasn’t all surprised by any of the pairings his class had made. Tetsutetsu was obviously with Kirishima, Kurojiro with Tokoyami, and so on. What caught him slightly off guard was that Kendo had chosen Hagakure. Apparently, the two had become friends without his knowledge(Yuga did know, though. He supposed it was just never relevant to bring into their conversations).

“I think it’s quite funny that you’re so good at French but terrible at the language you actually need to learn.” Yuga said. 

Neito huffed. “French is more important. I need to make sure I can insult people without them understanding.” 

“. . . That makes quite little sense to me, but alright.” 

“Tone transcends language. For some reason, people respect you more if you can speak multiple languages. So if you’re insulting someone and they don’t understand you, you appear smarter.” Neito explained. It was a strange little quirk he’d noticed about people. It didn’t intrigue him enough to actually look into, though. 

“I’ll test that.” Yuga joked. 

Neito burst out laughing. “No, now I'm just imagining you walking up to someone and whispering in their ear, ‘Tu ressembles à un putain de crapaud’ and then walking away,” 

Yuga gave him an amusedly bemused look. “Why is that your first thought?” 

“I don’t know how my brain works any more than you do.” Neito replied with a shrug. “Anyway, we should probably actually work on this stupid project.” 

Yuga half sighed. “True, true. Alright, so we need to make an at least forty line long dialogue exchange. So. . . what should it be about?”

“Everyone fucking dies in the end.” Neito had to spend all his willpower to keep a straight face. 

Yuga gave him the trademark look of asking ‘for the love of all things dear, please be joking’. “Let’s. . . not do that.” 

“It would be beautiful.” 

“Non, non I don’t think it would.” 

“You just don’t support my artistic vision.” 

“More accurately, absurd vision.” 

“It’s an artistic vision and you’re bullying me. One day, you will recognize my brilliance.” 

“I think one day, I will come to the realization that you are putain de ridiculous.” 

“How do you not already think that?” 

“Your beauty has broken my critical thinking skills.” 

“Well, I'd say the same. But you can’t break what you never had. . . Though I guess I could say your adorableness breaks my focus.”

“It’s not a competition of who breaks whose brain worse.” 

“I will make it a competition. Do not test me.” 

“Try. I dare you.” 

Neito was not about to back down from a challenge. Even if that challenge was made when he and his opponent were giggling like idiots. “I have gotten scolded so many times for not being able to pay attention in class, and it’s your fault.” 

“Oh? You think you have it bad? Do you even know how hard it is to think about your eyes? I end up randomly spacing out in conversations because of them.” Yuga shot back, fighting to steady his voice and push down his fit of giggling. 

“Well, your hair is like pure gold, and I've, no joke, run into walls because it catches my attention.” 

“I would pay to see that.” 

“Kendo’s probably caught it on video before. I run into a lot of walls, like, in all seriousness.” 

Neito’s door slid open. “I’m not even going to question what I just walked in on.” Kendo said, raising her hands. “But I was going to ask Neito if he had any pens.” 

Neito grabbed one from his bag and tossed it at her. “Now, shoo!” 

She smirked. “Okay, okay, I’ll leave you to your date.” 

There were many squeals and squeaks of protest. 

December

Yuga sat in his room, feeling strangely crestfallen. It was Christmas, the rest of the class, plus Eri, were having a holiday party, and he was in here. He was in here instead of having fun. He didn’t deserve to have fun. But certainly he should, if only to avoid questions. 

He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. They had gone through so much. He was going to let them enjoy this. 

A knock on his door caught his attention. He slowly rose from the floor, heading across the room and hesitantly opening his door. 

To his absolute shock, Neito was the one standing there. He smiled sweetly at Yuga. “Hey.” 

“. . . Why?” Not the question he’d meant to ask. Well, technically it was. But his phrasing was atrocious. “I-I mean-” 

Neito shrugged. “It’s fine. A perfectly valid question. I felt like talking to you. Kendo was kind enough to ask Hagakure what you were up to for me. She told her, who told me, that you were in your room. So hi.” 

Yuga couldn’t deny that he was completely floored. “I- Um- Hi. . . Do you want to come in?” 

Neito nodded, looking quite close to laughter. 

Yuga gestured for him to come inside and shut the door. Neito inspected his room. A difficult feat, as Yuga had only his lamp on. 

“Damn. It's really ugly in here. No offense.” 

Yuga actually burst into laughter. “Why, thank you very much. And it is ugly, I'm well aware.” 

“Then un-ugly it.” Neito replied dryly. 

“Can't risk it.” Yuga murmured. 

Neito eyed him. “Anyway,” he unwound his scarf, dramatically revealing a small gift bag. “Here, gift.” 

Yuga blinked rapidly. “T-thank you!” He gasped. 

Neito's gorgeous little smile returned to his face. “No problem. I saw it and knew I just had to get it for you. And I'm rich. So like, no problem.” His attempts to downplay his gesture were so damn cute. 

Yuga accepted the gift. “I actually have something for you, too.” 

He headed over to his closet, swiftly opening it and pulling out the gift box and handing it to Neito. 

Even in the dim light, he was completely sure Neito teared up. “I. . . Didn't expect this. Thank you!” 

“Open it.” Yuga instructed. 

Neito silently took the lid off the box, eyes visibly lighting up when he saw the contents. “Are you. . ? How the fuck did you even remember. . ?” 

Yuga's heart felt so much warmer upon seeing the reaction. “Do you like it?” He asked, mostly out of habit. 

Neito gently lifted the sweater from its box, staring in awe at the slate blue fabric. 

Yuga had knitted the sweater himself. Neito had mentioned during their time working on their English project that his favorite videogame was Stardew Valley, and that he particularly liked the blue chickens. Hence the reason an image of the pixel bird had been stitched into the article. 

He was taken aback when Neito practically pounced on him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Thank you! Oh my God, thank you so much!” 

Yuga hugged him back. “It wasn't too much trouble. I find stitching quite easy.”

“Don't you dare downplay making me a whole ass sweater!” Neito scolded. 

Yuga was stuck between laughing and feeling ashamed. “Okay-okay. It was a little challenging to make in such a short span of time, but it was worth it.” 

Neito let him go. “Now open your gift!” He ordered. “Be warned, it does not compare to yours. . . But I'd like to think I did a decent job.” 

Yuga gave him a reassuring look. “I'm sure it's wonderful.” 

He opened the bag, audibly gasping when he saw what was inside. 

It was an absolutely gorgeous hairpin. It was in the shape of an emperor butterfly, covered with glittery blue gemstones. It shimmered even in what little light was in the room. It was mesmerizing. 

He genuinely started weeping tears of joy. He borderline violently yanked Neito into an embrace. “It's perfect.” He told him, choking on his words. 

“I'm glad you think so.” Neito said softly, hugging him back. 

Yuga released him, not wanting to suffocate his friend. That would not be a very good expression of gratitude. 

He'd never gotten something so thoughtful as a gift from anyone. He highly doubted it was a coincidence that Neito had gotten him something incorporating his three favorite things(right below cheese). Emperor butterflies, the color blue, and glittery things. 

Usually his parents threw money at him and called it a day. 

Neito patted his head. “I'm really glad you like it.”

“I don't merely like it. I will cherish it until the day I die.” Honestly, he wasn't sure that was an exaggeration. 

Neito hugged him again. “Merry Christmas, Yuga.” 

January

Neito didn't know why he was still up. It was twenty-three thirty-seven already. Sure, it was New Year's Eve, but he'd never really made a point of staying up for that. 

He had to get up at five thirty the next day, so he should really have gone to bed by now. And yet he didn't. That was how a lot of things were with him, weren't they? 

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a quiet knock at his door. He almost didn't hear it over the clamor his classmates were making in the common room. Ironic, considering this was supposed to be a quiet holiday. 

Neito was curious as to who the hell was here at this ungodly hour. 

Though he was unsurprised to find that it was Yuga. 

“What are you doing up so late?” Neito questioned. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” Yuga retorted. “Regardless, I couldn't sleep. I had a small inkling that you couldn't either.” 

This was certainly a surprise. Usually he had to go to Yuga on what rare occasions he summoned the courage to speak to him. 

“I've got nothing better to do, so sure.” Neito noticed Yuga was wearing the hairclip he'd gotten him, and couldn't help but grin stupidly. 

Yuga hesitantly stepped inside, glancing around the dorm with wide eyes. “Now I see why you judged my room.” 

Neito spluttered a laugh. “Sorry, your room is just. . .”

“No, you're right. It's hideous. That's on purpose.” Yuga's voice went flat. 

Neito stared blankly at him. “Ah. . .” 

Yuga sighed. “Anyway, how have you been?” 

Neito flopped down on his bed dramatically, patting the space beside him. “Take your shoes off and get over here.”

Yuga laughed lightly, but obliged, sitting down beside Neito with an unwarranted amount of grace. 

“I've been better. I mean that in both senses. I have felt better before, but I'm also doing better than my new usual.” He finally answered. 

Yuga nodded solemnly. “The same goes for me.” 

Neito sat up, scooting over to Yuga. “I've heard a lot of your classmates making jibes at you.”

Yuga waved it off. “Oh, I know. They're not trying to be cruel.” 

Neito wasn't so sure he cared what they were trying to do. Anytime someone insulted Yuga, he had the urge to kick their shins. Sometimes-almost always-he followed through. 

“Does it not bother you?”

Yuga pulled his knees to his chest. “I don't have a right for it to bother me.” he muttered. 

Neito wrapped an arm over his shoulders. “Don't say that.” 

“It's true.” Yuga looked up at him, tears glistening in his indigo gaze. “Every person that cares about me. . . I do not deserve.”

“That is bullshit.” Neito insisted. 

Yuga sighed again. “No, it's really not. I. . . Wish I could explain it.” He choked up again. 

Neito pulled him closer. “Listen, whatever reason you don't think you deserve to have people, it can't be worse than actively deciding to be an asshole.” 

Yuga scoffed scornfully. “. . . Sure.” 

It was Neito's turn to sigh. “Yuu, look, we're both sixteen. We still have a chance to grow and learn. Whatever you've done, there's still time to make it right. Sometimes I think you're the one who needs to hear they aren't a bad person. And you aren't. You're an amazing person. No matter what you, or anyone else thinks. We might not know each other very well- no, scratch that, we haven't known each other very long, but you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Remember that.” 

He was distracted from awaiting Yuga's reaction when he heard the ding of his clock. Damn. Midnight already. 

He glanced over at Yuga, having expected him to at least have made some form of response by now. 

He froze, seeing that Yuga had abruptly fallen asleep. How the hell he managed that was a mystery. Then again, he'd seemed extremely exhausted lately. So maybe it wasn't the biggest surprise, since he'd likely been up for at least eighteen hours. 

Neito was unable to deny that Yuga looked absolutely adorable. His face was so peaceful. He looked as though he was the most comfortable he had ever been. 

Quite strange, if Neito dared say so. How comfortable could it be to have your head resting on someone’s shoulder?

Though. . . in all honesty, Neito was very comfortable as well. Yuga was ridiculously warm, and radiated calmness. Neito shifted closer to Yuga, trying to put him in a better position. 

His unconscious friend grumbled in protest, wrapping his arms around Neito and holding him in place. Neito could have died on the spot. 

Calm down, Neito. Calm down. Calm down. This is no big deal. Just pretend this is normal.

As though cuddling with the most perfect person in the world was normal. 

Surprisingly enough, his mild panic got quelled by a wave of tiredness. Neito’s eyes slipped shut, and he snuggled closer to Yuga.  

February

Yuga had never been a fan of this wretched holiday. Mostly because he’d never had any boys be romantically interested in him, and never heard the end of it from his classmates. 

UA was much less intolerant than that, but the fear still clung to the corners of his mind. 

That was why he was outside the dorm building, not being able to deal with being in there with all the happy people. 

Toru glided over to him. “Hey, Yuga. You got a date for today?” She asked in a sing-song tone. 

Yuga shook his head. “Non, unfortunately.” 

Toru’s confusion was audible. “The fuck you mean no? Aren't you going to ask him out?” ‘Him’ could not have more clearly meant ‘Neito Monoma, the bitch you like for some reason’(Toru had called him this once). 

“Non. Why would I?”

Toru puffed in indignation. “You like him. He likes you. Just kiss already.” How blunt. 

“Toru! We've only spoken a handful of times!”

“You knitted him a God damn sweater, which he wears regularly, might I add. And you two cuddled. And yes, Itsuka told me about that.” 

Yuga's ears burned with embarrassment. “Er. . . Qui. But that doesn't mean he likes moi.” 

“Well, that's the worst lie I've heard all year.” Toru probably rolled her eyes. 

“We're not amis, let alone. . . More.” He insisted. 

Toru's glare intensified. “Ask. Him. Out. Unless you have other plans for today?” 

He did not. But that didn't mean he had to listen to Toru!

. . . Now he was behaving like a petulant child. 

If only it was that simple. 

He knew Neito liked him back. It wasn't a secret. Yuga also knew he had no right to pursue him. Not with what he was doing. 

He so desperately wanted to. Yet he couldn't. It wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be fair to Neito. Neito deserved someone who could love him without betraying him. Yuga couldn't give him that. He had accepted it long ago. 

Toru pulled out her phone. “I'm getting Itsuka to drag Monoma over here. I don't even care anymore. You two will quit being drama queens and date.” 

Yuga didn't even bother trying to protest. He knew it wouldn't accomplish anything. And a small selfish part of him was glad about this. 

Kendo appeared a few minutes later, dragging Neito with her. His face perfectly reflected how Yuga felt about this. 

His eyes brightened when he saw Yuga. “Oh, hey, Yuu. They're trying to force us to date now, I'm sure you heard.” 

Toru squeaked. “You did not just fucking give him a nickname.”

“No. I've had that one for a month.” Neito answered, mock-confident as ever, despite how bright his blush was. 

“Lemme guess, you've only used it once because you two are scared of feelings?” Kendo asked. 

“I'm not scared of my feelings!” Neito protested. 

“Then do Valentine's Day shit with ‘your pretty boy’.” Something in her tone alerted Yuga that Neito called him that at one point. 

“Humor us, could you?” Toru added. 

Neito rolled his eyes. “If it will get you to leave us alone, sure.” He pranced to Yuga's side and took his hand. “Let's skip through flower fields holding hands or some stupid shit like that.” 

“Say that again so I can record it.” Toru hardly suppressed mocking laughter. 

Kendo crossed her arms. “Come on, Toru. Let's leave our idiotic blonde little brothers to their date.” The two promptly bolted off to God knows where. Probably their own dates. Toru was going with Tokoyami, and she'd told Yuga that Kendo was going with Tetsutetsu. 

“We are both older than you!” Neito called after them, as though they thought that mattered. 

He turned back to Yuga. “Shall we go to the regular park?” 

Yuga chuckled. “Sure.” 

This all seemed so casual. Neither of them seemed to really care about the fact that their friends had basically forced them into a date.

‘It didn't have to be a date’. That was the justification only a fool would dare use. 

The two were holding hands, fully this time. They tread the same path that they had almost four months back. It felt the same, only the feeling of affection was so much stronger. 

Yuga hated how insistent he was on keeping away from Neito. They both wanted to be together. Why was the universe so cruel? Why did it have to make Yuga one of the worst people on the planet? Why did it have to make Yuga and Neito fall in love when it could never flourish into anything everlasting? 

The two came to a stop beside a snow dusted tree. Neito took Yuga's other hand and stared into his very soul. His awe-inspiring eyes were every bit as flawless as they'd been back in April. Back when they had first met and been sent plummeting down this rabbit hole that could only end in tragedy. 

Yuga couldn't bring himself to care. Despite how acquisitive, he pushed away all of these thoughts.

He did something he figured he would never get another chance to. If the world was going to end soon, he might as well do this. 

He kissed Neito.

And Neito kissed him back. 

March

He thought his life was going right. The chaos-as it was so childishly dubbed-had started shortly after, and Neito never got the chance to discuss things properly with Yuga. With all the war preparation, there was simply no time. And this was when they were actually making the effort. How ironic. 

Regardless, that day has been perfect. They'd had not a care in the world. It was complete bliss. 

Then it came out. The truth. The awful truth. The world shattering, hope dashing, soul crushing, heart-wrenching truth. 

Yuga was the UA traitor. 

And Neito was left asking himself, had any of that been real? 

He mulled over this question for some weeks before reaching the incredibly obvious conclusion. 

Yes. 

Yuga had been trying so hard to send signs. To dissuade him from falling. To try protecting him from the inevitable. 

That was love. That was raw and real. 

It only made Neito love him more. In some twisted way. Yuga truly did love him. So very dearly. 

Now if only Neito would get the chance to reciprocate. . . If only he'd said something sooner, instead of being a coward. 

Or maybe it was better he never had. Perhaps he should be grateful he'd never confessed to that traitor. Surely it was better this way. 

No.

It was not. His heart was broken just as much as it would have been otherwise. 

Not only that, but how dare he blame Yuga for his parents’ crime! Yuga never asked for any of this! Yuga was a child! Everyone who did stand up for him, were children. Every adult in this mess(Except Aizawa, apparently) had failed. 

How was he supposed to just pretend this was fine? 

Nothing would be fine ever again. War was approaching. Thousands of people were dead already. And children were expected to handle it. 

This wouldn't have even gone this far if heroes would stop being such cowards and start executing villains. All For One killed and abused millions. And they actively chose to keep him alive. 

It was their fault Yuga was still suffering. They had unimaginable arrogance if they could pretend they'd tried to prevent this outcome. 

Neito wasn't on the side of heroes. He was on the side of people he cared about. That just happened to be where heroes claimed to land. 

He wasn't fighting for heroes. He was fighting for his parents. He was fighting for Itsuka. He was fighting for his class. He was fighting for the sake of Freza's memory. 

And most of all, he was fighting for Yuga. 

Optimism wasn’t usually a word in his vocabulary, but now he really had no choice other than to have it. He had to believe this could work out. If he didn’t, he would lose what little remnants of his willpower he still held. 

It was too late to give up now. They would finish this. All For One was going to die. No matter how many people it took. Their sacrifices could not be in vain. That man was going to die, even if it took the entire world’s hero force. 

Neito was prepared to give his life if it meant All For One could die. He hoped hell was real, because that bastard needed to burn there. 

The final stand was hopefully tomorrow. That was when they planned for it to end. And if it didn’t. . . Millions could die. The blood was on the hands of not only the revolting villain, but of the heroes who refused to take proper action. 

Neito didn’t care who did or didn’t survive tomorrow, it wouldn’t change the realization he’d come to. This society was fucked. But it was his to protect. So he would. To his very last breath. Change wouldn’t come from cowardly watching from the sidelines. It would only come from practicing what they preached. 

Neito could not believe they were still operating school one day before the end all be all. No one was actually paying attention, himself included. He was just trying to encourage his classmates and wallowing in his sorrows. 

Several times over the past weeks he had heard kids muttering about the arrest of the Aoyama family. Which was darkly funny, because it was technically supposed to be secret. It was impossible to keep teenagers from gossiping, he supposed. At least they had the sense to only do it within school walls. 

If their bare-minimum etiquette didn’t already piss Neito off, the way they talked about Yuga sure as hell did. It was like they couldn’t wrap their heads around the very simple concept that coercion was an extremely powerful force. Every little comment sent Neito a little closer to snapping. 

Fuck his damn reputation. Yuga was much more important than such a material matter. 

The tipping point, was during lunch. Neito was peacefully sitting with Tetsutetsu and Itsuka, being jealous of them for getting to be happy with each other, when he heard another comment. Frankly, he hardly even processed the words. All he knew, was that Ojiro decided to run his mouth, and he was over it. 

He slung a glare over his shoulder. “Don’t you 1-a kids have anything better to do than mutter about the ‘traitor’? Like, oh I don’t know, preparing for the war? Maybe instead of saying whatever dumbass ideas come to your mind, you should prepare to save the entire God damn world?” 

Itsuka didn’t make a single move to silence him. 

Ojiro gave him an odd look. “Are you going to fault me for being suspicious that we’re just going to be betrayed again?” 

“Yes!” Neito snapped. “He’s been your classmate all year, and you never noticed anything suspicious? That’s on you. There has to have been some sign, anything to show that this was going to happen, or at the very least that there was something under the surface?” 

Itsuka still did nothing. 

“We never expected one of our classmates to do something like this.” Kaminari piped up. “All of us can seem odd at times, we must have just been oblivious to any signs!” 

“You spent a whole year with him! I could tell something was up and I've spoken to him all of twelve times.” It seemed strange to admit it. Being in love with someone you rarely spoke to. He’d always known it was unorthodox, but saying it out loud shed a new light over it. One that made him a little more uncomfortable than he cared to admit. 

Midoriya shifted uncomfortably. “You’re right. There were signs. We should not have ignored them. But you’re also stating that you noticed things too. You didn’t say anything either. We’re all at fault here.” 

Neito begrudgingly admitted he had a point. He’d never said anything. Granted, his concerns were that Yuga was suffering from depression or something of the sort and not much else, save one or two occasions. That didn’t excuse his hypocrisy, though, as usual. 

“True. The difference is I'm not talking shit about someone who is just as much a victim as the rest of us.” 

He surprised himself by his lack of screeching like a lunatic. He actually cared about this. He actually wanted to be listened to. This was actually important. 

Everyone else seemed equally taken aback by his lack of maniacal actions. 

“How can you claim righteousness when you literally insult all of us every day?!” Ashido snapped. Again, fair point. Another thing Neito already knew, and as usual never changed. 

“Hey, he was never my classmate. It is incredibly sad that there’s only. . . what, two people in your class defending him?” Neito crossed his arms. “You’re supposed to be the better ones. You’re class a for a reason. Regardless of if you live up to your title or not, you should try!” Venom crept into each word, ramping up potency by the second. 

He glanced behind him, expecting Itsuka to have said something by now. She had not. In fact, there was a gleam of approval and pride in her eyes. 

Bakugo stood up abruptly, glaring daggers at Neito. “WHY THE HELL DO YOU EVEN GIVE A DAMN?!” He demanded. “WHAT REASON DOES IT MATTER TO YOU?!” 

Neito’s air of carefully constructed calmness evaporated. 

Now, he had said some things on impulse that backfired horribly before. But his response to this took the fucking cake. 

“Well, maybe I love him!” 

Silence. Absolute dead silence. 

Neito took this opportunity to quickly leave before everyone realized that he was dead serious. 

Once safely in the hall, away from the sure to ensue screaming, he stopped. 

Why did I have to fucking say that? I am such an idiot. 

He heard footsteps and turned. Hagakure had followed him. “Hey. thanks for that. I may not like you very much, but I can see how deeply you care about Yuga. It’s very admirable.” 

His defense of denial acted almost on instinct. “I don’t care about him. I just had to come up with something to get their attention off him. I do have morality.” 

She didn’t believe it. He certainly didn’t believe it. 

Despite Hagakure not even entertaining his blatant lie, she responded with sheer outrage, “You kissed and you have the audacity to say he means nothing to you?”

Neito stared at the ground in shame. Why had he even tried to deny it? Yuga deserved someone who wasn’t too cowardly to admit how he felt. Why did he care what anyone else thought? Yuga was what he should care about, not people’s opinions! 

Hagakure’s glare bored into him, awaiting to see what pathetic excuse he would muster this time. 

He wouldn’t give one. From now on, he was done lying. He had found someone who accepted him with all his flaws. And he was more important than his worthless persona. 

“No. . .” Neito choked, voice mangled by a surge of grief. “He means everything to me.”

April

It had been almost a year. Almost a year since Yuga and Neito met. So much had happened. A war was over. A war was won. They were both heroes. One playing a greater role than the other. Both gaining extensive amounts of glory. 

However, neither could care less about the joy of victory. They both had one goal in mind: Find the other. 

They were both exhausted, barely able to walk, and injured. They did not care. They could not rest until they knew if their dearest person was still alive. 

When they did reunite. They both broke down in tears, embracing each other and not giving a damn about the looks they were given. 

They clung onto each other like it was their last day on Earth. Neito was shaking so badly he ended up collapsing in Yuga’s arms. Yuga held him up, crying from joy onto his shoulder. 

When they eventually pulled back, gazing into each other’s eyes, hands clasped together like they’d been together for centuries. 

“I love you.” They both said in unison, followed quickly by, “I know.” A bit of giggling following that. 

Yuga cupped Neito’s face in his hands, staring into his gorgeous slate blue eyes. “I’m so sorry. I. . . I’m sorry I never told you. I-I should have-” 

Neito cut him off by pulling him in for a kiss. “I don’t care about that right now. I just care. . . about you. Damnit. I don’t care what you’ve done. I still love you all the same.” He told him softly. 

Yuga trembled, gripping Neito’s hands tighter. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” He choked out. 

“Be you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in my life. You’re perfect. I don’t care if you’re objectively flawed. I want to be yours. So, what do you say? Are you going to let me be your first boyfriend?” 

“Of course.” Yuga’s voice was as soft as silk. 

The two’s bodies finally had enough of overexertion. They fell unconscious in each other’s arms. Not the trademark sign of hope for the future, but when had they ever been trademark? 

Itsuka and Toru watched them, beyond proud that their claimed younger brothers had finally sorted out their feelings. 

Today, so many people had lost. And yet, so many people had won. Despite everything, so many people had proven themselves. Heroes and former villains alike. All For One was gone, and people were free to finally live their lives. 

The hero course students were free to pursue their studies and become heroes. 

And the latest couple in the hero course was free to love each other without the shadow of their enemy hanging over them and threatening to ruin it. 

Neito and Yuga were finally together. They could finally be truly happy. 

13 Years Later. . .

Neito rolled onto his side, deciding to ignore the blaring of his alarm. He didn't have work today, and he was making the most of that. 

Yuga nudged him. “Neito, wake up.” 

“Nooo.” Neito groaned. “I don't have work. Neither do you, for that matter!”

Yuga grabbed his hands and just about dragged him out of bed. “We're expecting company, remember?” He reminded his husband. 

Neito had not remembered. “Psh. . . What time is it anyway?”

“Eight.”

“Why did we plan this so early?” 

“Take it up with Toru and Itsuka.” 

“I will not be confronting them, I'd prefer not to die today.”

Yuga chuckled. “I'd think by thirty you'd stop being so dramatic.”

“Don't fucking remind me of my age.”

"Language.” Yuga scolded. 

“. . . I take it back. Nothing's worth it if I can't curse.” 

They'd had this conversation several times over the past seven years, what with them having kids now and all. 

The two got dressed and headed down the stairs. Their children were already awake and running around, as expected. 

They had two kids, a pair of biological non-identical twins. They had both inherited Neito's eyes with Yuga's color. They both had fluffy brunette hair, the color being passed down from Neito's mother. 

Trinasha, the boy, had more freckles than his sister, he was also a few centimeters shorter. He wore exclusively pastel colored outfits. Trying to make him wear anything else ended with strangely sophisticated insults from a seven year old. Yuga said he got it from Neito. 

Silza, the girl, kept her hair in pigtails, her eyes were wider and more shimmery than her brother. She wore no less than five glittery bracelets at a time. Which obviously came from Yuga. No argument there. 

They had gotten a different iteration of the same quirk. Trinasha could pull things towards him, and Silza could push things away from her. The quirk had carried from their grandmother on Neito’s side, Kibori. 

Neito was a little disappointed neither of them had gotten his quirk, but he was overjoyed to be a parent regardless. Sometimes he was put on his wits end, but over the years he'd grown up quite a bit and learned to control his anger. 

Silza skipped over to her dads. “Father! Dad! Trinasha said Maple Syrup liked him more! Tell him he's wrong!” 

The fluffy golden-brown cat was lounging in the sunlight, seeming completely oblivious that the children were fighting over her again. 

Neito's parents had adopted her many years back, and had all but forced Neito and Yuga to take her when they moved into their house. The one-eyed cat was about sixteen years old now, and she loved the children dearly. 

This led to the kids fighting over who she loved more. They did this for the other animals too. 

Whisper the three-legged rescue ferret, Bumble the kitten they'd found on the streets last Christmas, and Poppy the non-purebred pug they'd adopted from a shelter four years back. 

Itsuka often teased that their home was becoming an animal sanctuary. Yuga would simply respond that they were heroes. Thus saving animals was just part of the job. 

Silza scampered over to Maple Syrup, tattling on her brother for a crime he likely committed forgotten. 

Trinasha hopped over to them. “When are the other people getting here?” 

Yuga shrugged. “Within the hour, knowing your aunts.”

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Neito headed over to it, unsurprised to find Itsuka and Toru standing there. 

Since Neito and Yuga had no (living) siblings, the two had taken the role of their kids' aunts. 

Toru's daughter, Kurge, stood behind her. Her small black wings were wrapped around her shoulders, as though she was trying to hide herself. 

Yuga and Neito's kids bolted over. “Where's our uncles?!” Silza demanded. “Where is Gitsuki?!” Trinasha added. 

Itsuka answered first. “My son is with his grandparents right now, Tetsutetsu will pick him up when he gets done with patrol.”

“Fumikage is working. He'll be here in about five hours.” Toru finished. 

“Boo!” The twins cried, then they rushed off, Kurge quietly following. 

Itsuka watched them go, a warm smile on her face. “Ah, sometimes I think back on when we were kids, and reflect that I never would have pictured us ending up here.”

There were a lot of things they wouldn't have pictured. Yuga never thought he'd see the day he cut his parents off. He hadn't spoken to them in a little over a decade. Sometimes he missed them, feeling like there was a void in his heart. But that void was filled by Neito’s parents. They treated Yuga like their own son, it was jarring and refreshing all at the same time. 

Toru laughed, her eyes on Yuga and Neito. “To be fair, back when we were first years, we never would have expected those two to finally get together.”

So very much changed from when they were first years, it was hardly a fair thing to say. 

Neito rolled his eyes. “Just drop it. I've already heard the end of you bullying us.”

“Nah, it never gets old. Unlike you. I think you're starting to get some grey hair- ow.” Neito had perfected the art of kicking Toru in the shins. Which was a lot easier now that she wore full outfits while not working. 

“Hey, I thought we were trying to keep our family gatherings free of fighting.” Istuka shook her head in disappointment. 

“I never agreed to this.” Neito pointed out. 

“I tried to convince him.” Yuga flicked a stray strand of his husband's hair. 

“Give him a couple more months. It took him thirteen to confess to Yuga.” Toru earned another shin kick. 

Yuga pulled Neito back. “Arrêt.”

Neito glared at his sisters one more time before turning to Yuga. “We should probably make sure the children don't cover the whole house in glitter again.”

“But why? That was beautiful.” Yuga argued. 

“I found glitter everywhere for months. I'm still finding glitter everywhere!” 

“Exactly.”

“Yuga, I love you, but glitter is going to be a deal breaker.” 

Yuga gasped in mock-shock. “Next you're going to tell me to stop eating cheese!”

“. . . Well, you're lactose intolerant, so-”

“Diseases are a suggestion!” 

“That's not how that works.” 

“Try and take cheese from me and I will take our children in the divorce.” 

“I'll keep all the pets.”

“Monster!” 

“I know. I'm evil.” Neito gave one of his trademark manic cackles.

“You two are f. . . Fudging ridiculous.” Toru stated plainly. 

Istuka nudged her. “They're in love, leave them alone.”

Neito demonstrated her point by wrapping his arms around Yuga's shoulders and pressing their foreheads together as they continued their mock-argument. 

It was disorienting to think they'd used to be so dodgy about their relationship. Everything had been so amazing. They could have gotten together in April, and had one extra year together. 

No matter, they planned to have many, many more years ahead of them.