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A lazy early-evening calm reigned in the living room. Hagakure sat on the rug by the coffee table, her legs tucked under her, and was devoting herself to her favorite activity with the utmost concentration. A sharp, chemical smell of nail polish remover and fresh nail polish wafted through the air. Spread out before her was a small army of colorful bottles, and she was in the process of applying rainbow colors to the nails of her left hand. She loved this month. She herself was head over heels in love with Ojirou, but at the same time, she carried a huge amount of love in her heart for all her friends and deeply believed that everyone has the right to love whomever they want.
It took her longer than usual, perhaps because most of the girls from 3-A and 3-B had stopped by to have their nails painted as well. Some chose bold colors, others more subdued ones. She loved doing nails—she gave Yaoyorozu a perfect French manicure, while she painted Jirou’s nails with black polish that shimmered with purple cat’s-eye flecks. Everything looked perfect.
Now she could finally focus on herself. Under normal circumstances, she would have gone to her room long ago to have some peace and quiet and to add a few special decorations to her nails—ones she’d been hoarding because she knew Ashido would confiscate them all and use them for herself—but not this time. She was filling the main room with the smell of chemicals just so she could wait for someone to finally dare to speak up.
Midoriya was sitting just a short distance away from her, alone in a chair. He was holding a notebook with notes from their battles. It looked like he was writing something down—perhaps another analysis of a new combat technique—but Hagakure knew all too well that it was something entirely different. Whenever she dipped her brush into a new colour or reached for the colour chart to show the girls all the colours she had, she could feel his gaze on her back. Although she was no longer invisible to everyone, she was still able to notice a lot of things without being noticed. Among them, especially the behavior of their classmates and friends.
He’d get nervous when they spoke to her. He’d be on guard when someone looked at him and wanted to ask what interesting things he was writing. He’d open his mouth in surprise when she came up with yet another new nail design. And he even let out an admiring sigh once when he saw Kendo’s nails shimmering with gold.
She waited. She knew it was coming.
She was just checking to see if the polish on her pinky finger had dried properly when she heard the sound of movement. Midoriya finally swung his legs down and took those few steps straight toward her. She looked up from her nails and tried to hide her excitement as she asked him, “Yes?”
Midoriya swallowed. His face was flushed. His eyes darted nervously around the room. “Hagakure-san… could you… could you…” She didn’t finish his sentence. He needed to find the courage to say it all. That was the only thing that could help him. “Paint my nails?”
“I’d love to,” she said, so happy that her hair glinted for a moment and then vanished. “Sit down in front of me.”
Midoriya did so. He nervously looked around again. She let him. If it calmed him down, she shouldn’t point it out, even though she knew that most of the boys were at Class 3-B’s barbecue party today—a party Midoriya had never made it to because he’d been immediately drawn to Hagakure’s nail-painting workshop. “Have you ever painted your nails before?”
“No,” he admitted, his gaze fixed on the floor. He felt uneasy.
“That’s okay,” Hagakure said, “I’ll just paint them for you, just to get you used to it. What do you say?” Midoriya nodded and smiled gratefully at her. “Do you want a specific colour or a colour combination?”
Midoriya thought for a moment. Not because he was trying to decide on a colour, but as if he were deciding whether to say it at all. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly after a moment. “Maybe… green and black? So it goes with my hero costume?”
“That’s pretty bold,” Hagakure said. “Black won’t look that good on you,” she remarked.
Midoriya scratched his head. “Maybe nothing will look good on me. After all, I’m a guy.”
“Oh, come on, guys paint their nails too, do they? Show me a single rocker who hasn’t painted his nails black at least once for a concert.” That made Midoriya laugh, and he relaxed a little. “Something tells me you’d like something…” She thought for a moment as she studied his face and tapped her finger against her chin. “No, not wild, but—real?”
“Real?” he repeated, looking confused.
“It’s as if those nails were meant to be a confession.” Just because she loved girly things and spoke in a squeaky voice didn’t mean she was stupid. Even though a lot of people thought she was.
“Hmm,” he grunted, blushing a little again.
“Something tells me…” She trailed off and began rummaging through her polishes. She found three that matched perfectly and showed them to Midoriya. “Is this okay?”
Midoriya’s mouth fell open in surprise. He didn’t know what to ask first. How could she have known? How did she figure it out? Was it that obvious? What gave him away?
Instead of a panic attack, however, came her gentle touch. She set the nail polishes down on the floor and took his hands. She pulled them toward her and looked into his eyes. She smiled sweetly at him. “Leave it to me, Izuku-kun,” she said, and Midoriya surrendered himself completely to her.
Her touch was gentle, full of quiet, tangible trust. Midoriya felt the terrible tension he’d been carrying inside him for what seemed like months melt away. He watched as the brush dipped in bright pink paint touched his fingernail for the first time. Hagakure worked slowly, with immense respect for both his scars and his secrets. A warm, homey atmosphere filled the room, broken only by the quiet ticking of the clock.
When she finished the last finger with dark blue, she left his hand resting on the table so the polish could dry properly. Midoriya stared at his nails, at the three bold, glossy colors that now adorned his battered hand. He felt such immense, warm relief in his chest that his vision blurred for a second.
“Thank you, Hagakure-san,” he whispered sincerely, then looked at her questioningly. “But… how did you know? Those colours. I didn’t even have to finish saying it.”
Hagakure put the brush back in the bottle, and her soft, bell-like laughter rang out in the silence of the room. “I just knew it, Izuku-kun. Maybe even before you did,” she laughed softly, but immediately afterward her voice grew serious, sounding incredibly wise and kind. “But it’s up to everyone to figure it out for themselves. At their own pace. And I’m so glad you let me share this with you.”
Midoriya gazed at her for a long moment, and a faint but genuinely happy smile appeared on his lips. For the first time in a very long time, he felt like he’d found a place of absolute safety where he could just be himself.