Chapter Text
It started with an innocuous comment.
Shouto was on his way to the communal kitchen to wash a mug of his when he passed by a group of his classmates clustered together in the living room. A movie was playing on the TV, bright flashes of light being thrown across the walls as Shouto treaded past. He gave them a sparing glance, caught sight of several heads of hair and picked up a snatch of their conversation.
“Ahh, Spirited Away really is the best,” Uraraka sighed.
Shouto noticed her head thump onto Midoriya’s shoulder. Their backs were to Shouto, so he allowed his gaze to linger on them for a moment before turning on the faucet.
“It’s cool,” Ashido piped up, “but Mononoke’s still the best! So kickass and magicky!”
The sound of a pillow being pelted in quick succession made its way to Shouto’s ears over the running water. He focused on scrubbing the tea stains out of the bottom of his mug. The shape of the scrubber was kind of ill-suited to the task. Maybe he ought to suggest they buy a new one via the student requests line.
“I like Ponyo,” Asui croaked. “What about you, Midoriya?”
“Oh, uh…”
Shouto rinsed his mug clean and dried it with a rag, his ears pricking as Midoriya hummed to himself.
“They’re all good but I think I like Nausica the best. The setting is so unique and I love the way-“
“What about you, Todoroki?” a cheerful voice trampled over Midoriya’s words. When Shouto looked up from the sink he saw Ashido turned around on the couch, her arms crossed over the back cushion, wearing a wide grin. “Which Ghibi movie’s your favourite?”
Three other pairs of eyes joined Ashido in staring at him, the movie paused on a sleek white dragon frozen on the TV screen. Shouto stilled, his clean mug in hand as he blinked at the row of expectant faces.
“I don’t really have one,” he said. “I’ve never seen any, I don’t think.”
Clearly, this was an astonishing thing to say if the way Ashido’s inky eyes blew wide and Uraraka sucked in a gasp.
“What?” Ashido exclaimed.
“How is that even possible?” Uraraka demanded, slamming her hand down on a throw blanket, causing it to float several feet in the air.
Midoriya had to stand up to reach for it and attempt to pull it back down, but it remained stubbornly airborne.
Shouto squinted against the force of Ashido and Uraraka’s yelling, that familiar feeling that he’d made some kind of social misstep making itself known yet again. “I didn’t realise that was such a big deal. My family didn’t have a TV for most of my childhood.”
“That explains a lot,” Asui commented, still seated, her hands neatly folded in her lap.
“But Todoroki,” Midoriya argued, continuing—and seemingly losing—his fight against the blanket. His eyebrows were drawn together, his nose scrunched up as he pulled at the knitted wool. “You never—oof—saw it at a friend’s house or something?”
“No,” Shouto answered plainly. “I didn’t have any friends.”
“That explains even more,” Asui said as Uraraka finally noticed Midoriya’s struggle with the blanket and touched the pads of her fingers together, allowing it and Midoriya both to tumble to the ground.
As Shouto watched Midoriya flail about with a squawk, tossing the blanket off him and take Uraraka’s offered hand, his mind turned over his own words. It was true enough. All through his elementary and middle school years, he’d only had acquaintances. People who either idolised him to an uncomfortable degree for his status as the son of Endeavor or resented him for the same reason. Either way, those relationships had been fleeting and insignificant, the thought of trying to form any true bonds with his classmates never crossing his mind. Those years had all merely been stepping stones to get him to the U.A hero course, where he could finally pursue his goals.
It hadn’t mattered to him that he’d been alone up until that point. He’d managed just fine before then, after all. But then-
“Sorry!” Midoriya stammered as Uraraka pulled him to his feet. His freckled cheeks were a touch pink, his green hair even bushier than normal where he was scratching at his head. “I didn’t mean for that to come off so, er, rude.”
“It’s fine,” Shouto assured him, glancing towards the stairway and wondering if he’d be able to peacefully walk back to his room.
“What did you do with all your time then?” Ashido burst in, vaulting over the couch, her sock-clad feet landing soundlessly on the carpet.
Shouto sighed internally. There went that hope.
He shrugged. “I trained.”
Ashido raised an eyebrow, fists falling to her hips. “And?”
“I studied?” Shouto replied.
“Aaaand?” Ashido pressed, both eyebrows disappearing into the fringe of her fuzzy hair.
Shouto frowned. Was he missing some sort of hidden riddle? “I…rode the train?”
Ashido tipped her head back and groaned at the ceiling loud enough to make Shouto wince. She turned on her heel and threw her arms out at the others beseechingly. “He’s impossible, guys!” She spun back around and jabbed a finger Shouto’s way. “You’re impossible! But that’s okay. I’m gonna help you out of this. ‘Cause you know why? That’s what friends do.”
Before Shouto knew what was happening, Ashido was behind him, grasping his shoulders and pushing him towards the couch. His slippers slid easily along the carpet until his calves hit the cushions and he was forced to sit down. He watched as Ashido snapped her fingers and pointed at Midoriya.
“Midoriya! Do you have your notebook?”
“Always,” he replied with a frown, producing said notebook from somewhere within his night clothes. “Why?”
“’Cause you’re gonna need to take some notes,” Ashido huffed before fixing Shouto with a steely-eyed glare.
He sat stock still, his mug remaining gripped between his hands. He felt distinctly as though he was about to be interrogated. Casting seeking glances at Uraraka and Asui did nothing to help; they seemed just as intent on Shouto’s lack of movie watching as Ashido. Ashido, who rattled off a series of rapid-fire questions at him, drilling him like a sergeant about his time before U.A.
“So, you’re telling me you’ve never known the joy of staying up all night, binging movies you shouldn’t be watching with friends?”
“No. I just told you I-“
“What about going on vacations and stuff with others your age?”
“Does a field trip to the war museum count?”
“Going out to eat and sing karaoke?”
“I don’t really sing.”
Ashido let out a long sigh, her horns seeming to deflate atop her head as she threw herself back on the couch beside Midoriya, who had been furiously scribbling away in his notebook the whole time.
Shouto drummed his fingers against his thigh. He got the distinct feeling he was failing some kind of test in Ashido and the others’ eyes, but he didn’t know how to rectify that.
“Man, your parents must be really strict, huh Todoroki?” Asui said, tapping her chin with consideration.
Midoriya’s pen skidded to a halt over his page and Shouto flicked his gaze across to catch Midoriya staring at him over the rim of his book. The moment their eyes locked, he cleared his throat and dropped his attention back to his scribbling.
“I guess it makes sense,” Uraraka added, “given the kind of guy Endeavour is.”
“Yeah,” Shouto agreed, his voice sounding wooden to his own ears. He noticed Midoriya’s shoulders tense out of the corner of his eyes, but kept his gaze aimed straight ahead. “I guess so.”
He could be in his room right now, his legs getting snug and toasty beneath his kotatsu, maybe revising some of his homework for his provisional licensing training. Instead, he was stuck on that couch, getting grilled for failing to be an adolescent boy, apparently. If only he could stand to leave his dirty dishes until the morning.
“Guys,” Ashido snapped, pulling the attention of the room back to her stern face. “We can’t afford to lose focus! Not when our dear friend, Todoroki, has been missing out on essential teenage moments.”
Shouto couldn’t ignore the way Ashido’s words seemed crafted as barbs, though they merely left him confused. Was it really such a big deal that he’d never gone out to karaoke? He didn’t think so but apparently it was a huge fault in his upbringing and character by Ashido’s standards.
“But that’s where we come in!” She announced and threw an arm around Midoriya’s shoulders, pulling him close. Her grin was wide despite Midoriya’s muffled sounds of protest against her forearm. “’Cause we’re going to do everything on this list and give you the young hooligan experience you’ve been missing out on!”
Shouto held up a staying hand. “I really don’t think that’s necessary. Also, you’re suffocating Midoriya.”
Ashido blinked and glanced at Midoriya, who was indeed clutching desperately at her arm and turning steadily blue in the face. With a hurried laugh, she released him from his fleshy prison, patting him on the back as he raked in several wheezing breaths.
“Whoops! Sorry about that.”
“N…No problem.”
“But-!” Ashido whipped around to fix her determined gaze back on Shouto, “my point still stands.”
Before Shouto could rumble any more dissent, Uraraka squished herself up against Midoriya’s other side, tossing her arm over his and Ashido’s shoulders. “That’s right!” she enthused, pumping her fist. “Thinking of all the experiences you’ve missed out on is tragic, Todoroki. Giving you a crash course in being a kid sounds super fun!”
Asui poked her head up behind the three of them and nodded once. “Think of it like tutoring.”
Faced with their hopeful, glimmering faces, Shouto’s denials were dying on his tongue quicker and quicker. He coughed into his fist and busied himself with staring at a stray thread on Uraraka’s sweater. “You really don’t have to trouble yourselves like that.”
“It’s no trouble!” Uraraka immediately interjected, Ashido nodding along vigorously.
“That’s right. It’s our civic duty.”
Asui let out a ribbit of agreement.
Shouto wavered. The last thing he wanted was to be a distraction, especially when Midoriya, Uraraka, and Asui were engaged in hero internships. Surely, they had more important things to do with their time than donate their attention to the charity case that was his friendless upbringing. A refusal was brewing on his lips when Midoriya, his notebook open in his hands, spoke up.
“They’re right, Todoroki,” he said, eyes skimming over the page before looking up at Shouto with a crooked smile. “It’s up to you, of course—maybe you don’t want any distractions from your provisional license training—but hanging out and doing stuff like this does sound fun.”
For the first time that night, Shouto noticed the deep grooves beneath Midoriya’s eyes, stark despite his smile. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Shouto, nor any of the others who sat with Midoriya at lunch, that he’d been distracted, preoccupied, and clearly distressed about something, though what that something was, he’d kept tight-lipped about, despite Iida’s prodding. Shouto had assumed it was classified, something linked to Midoriya’s internship with Sir Nighteye, and so he hadn’t pushed, just offered what support he could in the form of sharing his soba. It had only been a few days since the siege on the Yakuza leader Overhaul’s base, and though Shouto didn’t know all the details, he knew Midoriya had been there, that casualties had been suffered, and that a little girl he’d rescued had been at the centre of it all.
So many things had happened in such quick succession. The villain attack at USJ, their impromptu battle against the hero killer, the invasion of their training camp, Bakugou’s kidnapping and subsequent rescue, All Might’s fight against All-for-One, his retirement, and now this. It was far from the disciplined, yet steady high school hero training Shouto had been preparing himself for. And though he reasoned it was all for the betterment of his ability to function as a hero, he knew not everyone had been brought up with the same brutal regiment he had, Midoriya included.
As he gazed at him and his weak smile, Shouto thought perhaps a little fun would do them a spot of good after all.
“Okay,” he finally said, the girls all gasping and cheering, but his eyes remained fixed on Midoriya. “Sounds fun.”
Midoriya’s smile widened and Ashido threw her hands up in victory.
“Yes! This is gonna be so awesome! Starting tomorrow.” She threw herself down on the couch and grabbed the remote, aiming it at the TV. “First, we need to finish this movie. And don’t even think of looking, Todoroki! You need to watch it from the beginning, so get out of here!”
Shouto rose from the couch, holding his hands up in surrender. As he paced from the room and the sound of the movie started up again, he couldn’t help but smile slightly to himself. He wondered how true to the ‘typical teen experience’ this was going to be.
Shouto, ever an early riser, had gone to class early the next morning and so hadn’t seen Midoriya or any of the others to further outline this ‘missed opportunities’ plan. It wasn’t until English class with Present Mic that the entire operation was suddenly brought up again via a scrunched-up paper ball landing on his desk. Frowning at it, Shouto glanced over his shoulder in the direction the object had come from, wondering if someone was trying to antagonise him over present-tense verbs, but he only spotted Sero grinning at him from over his textbook. He pointed to the paper ball, then sliced his attention back to his book as Present Mic called on someone to give him an oral demonstration.
His eyebrows knitted together, Shouto unfurled the paper to see a note scrawled out in Sero’s messy handwriting.
Mina told me about the plan to fill you in on your missing teenage education. Consider this your first foray! Now, throw a note back at me.
Shouto stared at the page for a minute, the cogs in his brain seeming to turn slower than usual. Why did Sero want a note from him? Why couldn’t this wait until after class?
Confused, he tore out a small scrap of paper from his workbook and pencilled in a quick response.
What do you want me to write?
Waiting until Present Mic was facing the board, he turned and tossed the note to Sero, who caught it in his palm. The action was clearly witnessed by Ashido, who snickered behind her hand.
“Ashido!” Present Mic cheered, spinning around on his heel and pointing straight at Ashido’s stricken face. “Thanks for volunteering to read out the next line!”
“Ah, crap,” Ashido muttered before squinting at her page and launching into a stilted, slurred attempt at English.
As she slowly made her way through the line, another piece of paper landed on Shouto’s desk.
Whatever you want! How about this? Fuck/marry/kill: All Might, Midnight, Aizawa-sensei.
Shouto stared at the paper mutely as Ashido continued to drone on in the background.
“It…was the, uh, best of…times…it was the warst-“
“Worst, Ashido. Remember, that O can sound like an er in certain words.”
“Ah, right.”
I’m pretty sure it would be inappropriate for me to have relations with any of my teachers, Shouto wrote beneath Sero’s question. He tossed it over his shoulder without looking, Sero’s muffled grunt of surprise telling him he’d found his target.
He read along as Ashido spoke, pondering what the point of passing notes in class was while Present Mic strolled between their desks. His pondering was reaching a full minute when the fleshy smack of a palm colliding with a desk had his head shooting up and swivelling around on his neck to see Present Mic snatch the paper out from under Sero’s nose.
“Passing notes in class, Sero?” he inquired, sliding his sunglasses on top of his head to peer down at the page. “How elementary! I love it!”
Sero’s teeth were gritted in a grimace as Present Mic scanned the page, then tossed his head back and roared with laughter.
“Nice answer from your friend there! Piece of advice though; keep your games to celebrities who don’t have power over your grades, yeah?”
He laughed, his pearly white teeth gleaming as he pocketed the note and strolled back to the front of the class. At his back, Sero deflated in his seat, shooting a sheepish look to Shouto. Shouto gave him a conciliatory bow of his head before turning back to his desk.
Behind him, he heard Midoriya trying to stifle his laughter. Shouto smiled.
It became apparent to Shouto rather quickly during lunch that it wasn’t just Sero that Ashido had roped into this hare-brained scheme, but the entire class. He knew this because when he sat down at his usual spot beside Midoriya, Jirou slid in next to him as though this were something she did every day. Shouto paused in breaking his chopsticks apart to raise an eyebrow at her and she raised one back in return.
“So, I hear we’re going to karaoke after school?” was all she said, pulling the plastic wrapper off some melon bread.
Shouto blinked. “We are?”
“We are?” Midoriya echoed, leaning over to table to see past Shouto at Jirou.
“We are!” came Iida’s voice from the head of the table, their dishes rattling as he shot to his feet. “Uraraka told me we needed a team-building outing in the wake of so many of us being pulled apart by extra-curricular activities and I couldn’t agree more. While it’s important that we each build ourselves towards our own personal goals, we must remain strong as a cohesive unit. Ashido suggested karaoke and Jirou recommended a spot.”
Jirou flashed her fingers in a peace symbol as she bit into her bread.
Adjusting his glasses, Iida went on with steam. “I went ahead and booked us a room for an hour. Looking at the train schedule, we should be able to get there in less than thirty minutes by the quickest route, with only one line change.”
He flashed his phone screen as evidence, displaying a written itinerary plotted to the minute. Shouto suddenly wondered if his own method of simply walking to the closest train station and examining the map was subpar.
“Wow, Iida, you’ve really planned this whole thing out, huh?” Midoriya asked, blinking at the itinerary.
“Of course,” Iida said grandly, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “Given that we’ll be travelling into the city without a chaperone, it will be optimal for us to stick to a tight schedule so we can have enough time for leisurely activity while making it back to campus in time for curfew. So, a plan is necessary.”
“So prepared…” Midoriya breathed, admiration sparkling in his eyes.
Iida swelled at the praise for a moment before looking at Shouto. “All that’s left is your answer as to whether you want to go or not.”
“Everyone else has already said yes?” Shouto wondered.
“A few can’t make it for various reasons but most of the class is attending,” Iida answered. “So, what’s say you, Todoroki?”
Iida, Jirou, and Midoriya all looked at Shouto expectantly, that same smile on Midoriya’s face that he’d had on last night when he told Shouto all of this could be fun.
“Well,” Shouto said after a moment, “everyone’s already gone through so much trouble-“
“Excellent,” Iida cut in, seizing his chopsticks. “We’ll be taking the train into town at 4:02 so we’ll need to leave the dorms by 3:45 at the latest.”
Shouto picked at his noodles, swirling them around his chopsticks. “I’ll be sure to be dressed on time.”
The pressure of Midoriya’s shoulder bumping against his own had Shouto glancing across at him. Midoriya gave him a bright smile and a thumbs-up.
“Fun?”
Shouto answered with a thumbs-up of his own. “Fun.”
Midoriya didn’t lean away as they started eating and Shouto found he didn’t mind the solid pressure of Midoriya’s shoulder pressing against his arm so he didn’t shuffle over either. They remained like that for the entire period, until eventually the bell rang and they had to return their dishes. When they stood up from the table, Shouto found his arm was noticeably colder.
They left the dorms at exactly 3:47 due to Kaminari being unable to find one of his shoes, but they still made it onto the 4:02 train despite Iida’s incessant barking the whole way down to the station. Between the fifteen of them, which included Shoji, they took up half the train carriage and Shouto was made to stand sandwiched between Kirishima and Tokoyami. He tuned out their conversation which consisted of Kirishima trying to convince Tokoyami there was a species of bird that crafted their nests entirely out of rocks as he watched Midoriya and Uraraka huddled together near the doors.
They were sharing a pair of earphones, their cheeks nearly smooshed together as they watched something on Midoriya’s phone. Uraraka pointed to the screen, and said something that caused Midoriya to laugh, his eyes scrunching up in the corners. Was it a video of All Might? Something else hero related? Or something funny Midoriya had seen and thought to show Uraraka? Shouto was left to wonder if this was yet another element of friendship he’d never experienced.
They changed trains and soon pulled up to their stop, the group of them continuing down the street as Iida herded them like a class of unruly preschoolers.
“Everyone in two lines! Don’t take up so much space on the sidewa—Mineta! Pick up your trash! Don’t just throw it on the ground like some kind of vagrant!”
The building was located on the corner of an intersection between a newsagent and a ramen place. After checking in at the counter, the worker behind the desk led them to a private room big enough to hold their group that contained a small stage, a large TV screen suspended from the roof, a disco ball, and two rows of low tables from which they could order food and drinks. Ashido instantly seized one of the microphones, ordering Kaminari to take a picture of her to send to Sero—who was not a part of their group on account of him having gotten detention as a result of his note passing in class.
“Just trying to rub it in his face, huh?” Kaminari tutted, though he still took the photo regardless as Ashido posed up on the stage.
Shouto slid down to sit beside Midoriya at one of the tables, sighing. “I feel bad. Sero got in trouble for something the two of us were doing. It seems unfair that I get to be here while he’s still stuck at school.”
Midoriya shrugged as he perused the drinks menu. “I’m sure Sero would prefer that you get to be here than at school with him. Besides, maybe we can grab him something from that pastry shop next to the station on the way back.”
Shouto sat up a little straighter, the suggestion lifting his spirits some. He eyed Midoriya, who continued to read the menu and hum along to the pop sing Ashido was singing.
“Midoriya, you’re good at that.”
Midoriya lifted his eyes from the menu to blink up at Shouto in the dark. The light from the TV screen as well as the glimmer of the disco ball cast glowing diamonds across his face. “I’m good at what?”
“At being thoughtful,” Shouto replied truthfully.
Midoriya’s mouth flattened and stretched, his face flushing as he quickly averted his gaze, laughing to himself and scratching at the back of his neck. “Ah, well—I don’t know about that! I was just-! It’s what anyone else would do, you know?”
Shouto just hummed, turning his gaze up, towards the stage.
The group went through a few rotations of turns, alternating between duets and solos. Uraraka and Hagakure performed a song by a popular girl group, complete with choreography, Aoyama belted out a Celine Dion ballad, Tokoyami and Shoji sang a surprisingly touching, soulful rock song, and Jirou crooned out a few songs to the raucous applause of the class. She was made to perform a few encores before she finally stomped off the stage, red in the face and shoving the microphone into Kaminari’s chest. She huffed, though Shouto thought he saw a pleased smile fighting its way onto her face.
All the while, they ordered a steady stream of food and drinks, which Iida constantly reminded them not to over-do.
“Don’t go blowing your allowances all at once! Waiting for dinner won’t kill you.”
Kaminari distracted him by pulling him up onto the stage and goading him into singing a techno hit together (which Iida eventually did with great enthusiasm).
Shouto munched on a french fry and sipped at his orange soda, nodding along to the song he didn’t know. Beside him, Midoriya was doing the same, smiling up at their friends as his fingers tapped against his glass. He was drinking an apple juice, Shouto noted.
“Are you going to sing, Midoriya?” Shouto asked. “You haven’t done a song yet.”
“Ah, no,” Midoriya laughed, tracing his finger through the layer of condensation clinging to his glass. “I’m really not much of a singer.”
“Then why did you come along?” Shouto inquired with a tilt of his head.
Midoriya pursed his lips as he seemed to turn the question over in his mind. “Well, you know, even if the activity isn’t something I’m personally into, just being able to spend time with your friends is what’s important.” He turned to face Shouto head on at the same moment a refraction of light from the disco ball passed over his face, making his eyes gleam. “Right?”
Shouto had to squint against the dazzling display of Midoriya’s radiant smile before he could nod in return. His left side flared up, causing some sweat to gather on his palm. Clearing his throat, he replied, “Right.”
“Todoroki!”
He and Midoriya both startled in their seats as Ashido slapped her palm down on the table between them, causing several glasses to rattle. She grinned and shoved a microphone against Shouto’s cheek until he took it, grasping his wrist and yanking him to his feet.
“Come on, come on!” she urged, pushing him towards the stage. “It’s your first time at karaoke, right? You gotta sing something! I’ll bet a pretty boy like you has a real smooth voice, somethin’ that’ll make all the fangirls swoon.”
Before Shouto knew what was happening, he found himself on the stage, mic in hand, and blinking at the faces of his classmates all watching him expectantly. Ashido held up a tablet with a list of songs.
“Pick one!” she commanded, and Shouto selected the first song he recognised.
As the music started up and the lyrics appeared on the screen, Midoriya and Uraraka shot him a pair of encouraging smiles and thumbs-ups. Raising the microphone to his mouth, Shouto steeled himself and cleared his throat, opening his mouth to sing.
About three minutes later, Shouto lowered the microphone as the music faded away. Nobody clapped. In fact, everybody seemed to be frozen in place, as though he’d accidentally activated his quirk and turned his classmates into statues. Even Midoriya and Uraraka had matching grimaces on their faces.
Eventually, Ashido let out a long hiss. “Or not.”
“You know, it’s actually kind of comforting to know that you have a flaw,” Kaminari mused as they made their way from the station and back up the hill to U.A. He folded his arms behind his head with a happy sigh. “It’s nice to know that for now it’s still impossible to be perfect.”
Shouto just stared at the back of his blonde head and said nothing, his silence clearly speaking volumes if the way Kirishima clapped a comforting hand on his shoulder and said, “Hey man, I think you did great for your first try,” was any indication.
Tokoyami nodded sagely on Kirishima’s other side. “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single pitchy note.”
Shouto huffed as those around him all snickered. “I thought this whole outing was supposed to fill me in on friendship experiences?”
“Exactly,” Ashido cut in, twirling around where she was walking ahead of them to pace backwards and grin at him. “And a key part of friendship is teasing each other when they crash and burn at karaoke.”
Shouto looked to Uraraka for confirmation. “Is that true?”
She shrugged, not glancing up from her phone. “More or less.”
Shouto’s discontent rumbled in the back of his throat as he narrowed his eyes at Ashido. “Then I guess you’re lucky you’re a half-decent singer.”
Ashido gasped, a hand flying to clutch at her chest. “Oh, my goodness! A compliment from the resident tone-deaf pretty boy? I might just swoon. Kaminari, catch me!”
Kaminari, who was preoccupied with trying to make crackles of electricity in the shape of smiley faces, didn’t seem to notice Ashido falling until she’d tipped right past him. He glanced up with a clueless, “Huh?” and Ashido would’ve fallen flat on her face, had Uraraka not poked her shoulder on the way down, making her float an inch from the ground. Ashido flailed about for a moment, spitting curses at Kaminari, who only noticed her when she kicked him in the ankle, causing him to squawk in pain.
Shouto watched them all with his eyebrows raised, only tearing his eyes away when he heard Midoriya laugh softly by his side.
“Even if your song didn’t go so great, it was still fun, right?” he asked, aiming his gaze up at Shouto.
He nodded before he could even voice his agreement, his mind thrown back to Midoriya’s words about it not being the activity that counted but the company.
“Yeah,” he said softly in the darkening night. “It was fun.”
Once they got back to the dorms, Shouto presented Sero with the raspberry and white chocolate muffin Midoriya had helped him pick out from the pastry shop. Sero, his cheeks stuffed and crumbs dotting his lips, claimed that Shouto owed him a karaoke session. Shouto bowed deeply and solemnly vowed he would fulfill his duty at the earliest convenience.