Work Text:
Not every classroom in UA had a “big sister” (some even had a “big brother”) but you were lucky enough to earn that title for Class 3-A. It wasn’t something you had intentionally strived for, as you simply looked after all your classmates alike, no matter what. However, the one you tended to the most, without a doubt, was Tamaki.
He wasn’t without friends or other support. Mirio was the sun that inspired him to shine brighter and allowed him to aim higher. But for Tamaki, you were the moon that provided peace when he needed it most—when his social battery was drained—and casted mild silver light over him like a serene embrace. It was a role you loved fulfilling: being able to settle his nerves, dispel his fears, and reassure him what a wonderful hero he is. You were stability in its purest form.
With that, it was no wonder he came to you in his distress.
You were walking along a hallway, on your way to class, when someone said your name in a desperate manner—longing for relief. You turned, only to be surprised by a tight hug and a face tucked into your shoulder.
“Tamaki?” you said his name softly; taking immediate note of his frightened state. Trembling like a leaf, his knees were about to give out. Wisps of dark hair tickled your cheek.
“I don’t want to,” he begged, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “I don’t want to.”
Your heart melted. With practiced hands, you rubbed his back to sooth him, recalling the best ways to talk through his anxiety. Students passed by—some paying attention to the behavior of a member of the Big 3, others not even caring. You needed to make sure he didn’t realize he was being stared at, so, combing your fingers through his hair, you gently asked, “What is it you don’t want to do?”
His face pressed into your neck as he shook his head, clinging onto you and sounding shaky. “Principle Nezu asked me to demonstrate quirk versatility to Class 1-A. He said he wants me to go up against them to show them how to adapt their abilities in a fight.” His fingers dug into your blazer as he nearly cried, “But I don’t want to.”
Softening in painful affection, you combed more of his hair through your fingers, going right to the roots to sift it out in long, patient strokes. Tamaki’s shoulders sagged. His breathing eased against your skin.
“Okay,” you said, brainstorming a marathon in your head to think of something; knowing that the act of teaching was not the issue itself. “How about we come up with a compromise?”
“Compromise?” he mumbled, basking in the effects of your serenity, growing heavier in your hold. He felt quite precious like this.
“Mhm.” You caught the eyes of some students as they passed through the hall. “Something you’d enjoy doing that would still teach them, without having to interact with a large group.”
“I’d like that,” he sighed. You shifted to petting his fluffy hair, smoothing it over his scalp.
“How about this: Two or three students meet you at Ground Beta to fight, while the rest are in a monitoring room. Afterwards, they can watch the recordings while you provide feedback over speaker—so you’d be in a different room. Would you be comfortable with that?”
Tamaki tried to bury his face deeper into you. “They would still be watching me fight…” he muffled. Social anxiety insisted on getting the better of him, even in the best conditions.
You weren’t having it.
Reflecting silver light onto him in the way only you could, you lifted his distraught face and borrowed from the sun. “You can do it, Tamaki. I know you can.” With closeness, with each reassurance, you inspired him and filled him with hope. “On the battlefield, you won’t even notice the cameras. When you’re out there, you can help them grow, and focus only on who’s around you.” You touched his forehead with your lips. “I believe in you.”
His posture became straighter. His expression brightened beneath his bangs. Your words changed something in him, just a little, just enough to supplant a bit of bravery. It was all he needed.
Slowly, he kissed your cheek, took your hands with trembling ones, and attempted to smile valiantly. “Okay,” he breathed, lips wobbling. “I think I can do it.”
You were so proud of him. In the most picturesque intimacy, you kissed the corner of his eye, then his nose, then tilted your foreheads together. “I know you can do it,” you whispered in truth, angling closer. Love slipped out of your tone without restraint. “My little Mooneater. Go shine like the sun.”
His smile became a ray of light.
“This expired a month ago.” Tamaki said, scrutinizing the tiny snack he held in his hand. “Do you think it’s still good?”
You looked up from your desk, currently busy with schoolwork from the previous class. “Don’t. I wouldn’t eat it.”
You promptly returned to your work, but his silence distracted you. You could practically hear him staring longingly at the unopened package like a love that would never be. He ate snacks so often that having to throw one away must be torture—but it was still better than getting sick. Once school was out, you’d visit the convenience store with him to purchase more. The elation on his face during those trips was unparalleled, so you looked forward to it.
You heard the crinkle of plastic next to you. Then the sound of chewing.
Sighing, you continued writing down study notes. There was no turning back.
Barely thirty minutes later, you were sure Tamaki regretted his decision. He was hunched over a toilet, emptying his stomach contents, and you rubbed his back to help him through the food poisoning. It was so bad that his knuckles went white from gripping the seat. Even worse was the cramped space of the stall with you at his side (and the foul-smelling air), but you pushed back concerns of being caught in the men’s restroom and focused on moving your palm in deep circles. Up and down. Over the shoulder blades and into his sides. Anywhere that would help, anywhere that would comfort, anything at all.
Between heaves, Tamaki sighed a shuddery breath; his eyes shut tight. Your palm glided up to his neck. Soothing words slipped from you in a hum, putting him under a trance, lulling him into greater calm. His pain broke through your efforts when he cried and clutched his abdomen, facial muscles contorting, much to your dismay. All you could do was your best and mumble little encouragements. As the minutes trailed by, the heaving turned dry and his sighs grew fuller.
At last, his vomiting subsided. The worst was over, filling you with a relief that could only be rivaled by his as he shakily removed himself from the toilet to slump against the stall and press his cheek against cold metal. You briefly left him to fetch water from your bag. When you tipped the bottle to his lips, he drank a little, but couldn’t manage more than that. So, after storing it away, you continued rubbing the back of his shoulder.
Tamaki closed his eyes. With a quiver, he said, “I’m never eating those again.”
In utter fondness, you brushed hair away from his face to tuck it behind his ear. Some sweat caused a few strands to stick to his skin, so you brushed those back too. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Your thumb grazed his cheekbone in the midst of your ministrations before your hand dipped back to his shoulder. He leaned into the touch, appearing torn with how his brow scrunched up. “If that’s what you want, then that’s okay.”
A soft sound akin to a whimper escaped his lips and he suddenly lurched back to the toilet. You tried to not let worry tug at you as you switched to use both hands on his back. “It’s okay,” you repeated, whispering more assurances. “I’m here.”
This bout was shorter than the first, and before long, he was sitting up again—leaning into you for support. With calm mumblings, you held him and brushed hair from his face again, wiping his tears, cleansing his pain. When he was ready, you lifted him to walk. “Let’s get you to Recovery Girl.”
Tamaki nodded weakly. His wobbly lips communicated gratitude and you sweetly kissed his temple. Together, you went to the nurse’s office, for you would never be apart for as long as you could help it. You stayed by his side the entire time.
Just as the universe intended.
In the seclusion of your dorm, Tamaki sat next to you on your small sofa. With curtains drawn and lights down low, the space provided a coziness you couldn’t attain elsewhere. You could see in his expressions, his body language, how much he enjoyed spending time alone with you in here. His voice hardly shook, he spoke his mind, and he didn’t hesitate to hold your hand like he was doing right now. Despite that, he still had an adorable blush spreading all the way to his ears, and when you interlaced your fingers, he averted his gaze. Dark bangs covered his eyes.
“Want some mochi?”
The singular mention of snacks was enough to have him looking your way again, his eyes alight in hope. Proud to have his attention, you reached into the bag on your left side, shuffled past empty plastics, and pulled out the box of rice cakes. Tamaki inched closer as you opened it. When you placed the soft mochi to his lips, he eagerly took a bite. Then, humming in delight, he finished the rest of it; leaving your fingers empty and coated in powdered sugar. You licked off the sweetness to grab another one for yourself. The contrast to the savory flavor of snacks you already ate was pleasant, especially in the company of the one you held dearest. Tamaki always loved it when you fed him directly, so you indulged in feeding him a few more mochi (all while he nudged closer and closer) before putting the rest back in the bag.
When you started to cuddle after that, there was no verbal communication needed. It happened naturally, like every time. The quiet of the room, and your seamlessly matched breathing, enveloped you in a blanket. It brought tender warmth where the two of you touched: your hands, your arms, your bodies. A special feeling blossomed.
A blue glow behind the curtain reminded you the reality of the hour, that this day wasn’t over—that you had dinner to eat, things to study, friends to meet.
Tamaki shifted to wrap his arms around your torso, and the rest of the world faded away. Only he remained. Ruffling his hair, you laid down on the sofa so he could lay on you and listen to your heartbeat. He was heavy. A nice, comfortable weight. The pointed tip of his visible ear remained pink, and the twitches of his lips indicated an internal preparation. When he spoke, it was slow, unsure, as if he was afraid of what you might say.
“Do you… do you think I’m a good hero?”
Your body jolted in surprise and he flinched. “What—“ He started shrinking in your hold. You angled your head to look at him, making sure you were gentle. “Where is this coming from?”
He unintentionally squeezed your lungs tight while he shut his eyes. His breath escaped with yours. “It’s just… Mirio and Nejire are both so bright,” he strained. “They're confident and never hesitate to believe in themselves. Sometimes I wonder if I… if I really deserve to stand beside them.”
He started to tremble then, in a shiver he couldn’t cover. It was raw, unfiltered insecurity, taking root in him like a rotten apple core. The world seemed so cruel—so when kind hands caressed him, he could do nothing but gasp and open his eyes. Lifting his face, you kissed him.
“Wha…” Redness creeped up from his neck and steamed out his ears. He dropped his face in embarrassment, more cute than he had any right to be.
Fingers slid over his neck and into his hair, rubbing circles and untangling knots as a sign of love. “Tamaki,” you said warmheartedly. He hummed nervously against your collarbone. “Am I worthy to stand beside you?”
He was bewildered to the point he lifted himself up to look at you. “Why would you ask that? Of course you are.”
You calmly brought him back down. “Don’t worry, I know I am.” Of that you were sure, more than anything else. “And do you know why?” You smiled, savoring the suspense. He naively shook his head. “Because I chose you.”
The truth announced itself in his sudden intake of air, the sound of your heart beneath his, mirroring its pulse, and the swirl of emotion in his eyes when he brought his face to yours.
“You… chose me?”
You laughed beneath him, cupping the back of his head. “Yeah, I did. And you chose me. That’s all that matters, wouldn’t you agree?”
Tamaki’s expression shifted in a squirmy matter. He was torn between what he wanted to think, and what you wanted him to think; which was something you also knew he wanted. There was no deciding for him, however, so you waited with all the patience in the world. You would be there for him.
Slowly, whatever battle of thoughts going on in his mind came to an end, and his disposition transformed into his closest version of resolve. His throat bobbed. “I… I’m worthy to stand beside them,” he affirmed in a slightly timid manner. Then, he watched you in awe as you tucked some hair behind his ear. “As long as I have you by my side, then—then I can stand by theirs too, if they let me.”
You glowed at him. “Is that because you hold me on the same pedestal as them?”
His blush returned and he quickly looked away. “Of—of course not!” He didn’t sound the least bit convincing, but you delighted in it.
Pulling him close, you nuzzled his cheek, and he shyly returned the gesture. “That’s a shame,” you teased, “it must be because Mirio’s your sun and I’m your moon.”
“N-no!” He rushed to defend himself. “It’s not like that at all. You’re so much more than that. You’re everyth—“
You cut him off with a kiss. He turned into a babbling mess and buried his face in your neck. It was all-too easy to accidentally get him to spiral when you teased him—but luckily for you, you had a reset button.
Snuggly wrapping your arms around him, you reinstated the embrace. He calmed down, relaxed, and sighed in the shared warmth. You whispered, “You’re a wonderful hero, Tamaki,” watching him rustle at the praise. You wanted him to know just how true that was, that he was your hero. So, combing his hair and encouraging him to look up at you, you added, “My little Mooneater.”
He beamed at the pet name.
If you were being honest with yourself, the analogy was inaccurate, because it failed to encapsulate just how much Tamaki and you influenced each other. He was more than someone who shined brighter than the moon, and you were more than someone who reflected the sun’s light.
You were Tamaki’s moon, and he was your entire world.