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I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees. - Pablo Neruda
~
“You know,” Izumi muses lightly as she pushes herself back upwards for the 500th time, “you don’t actually weigh enough for this to really do much for me right?”
“Hush and let me have this Izu-chan,” Uraraka huffs from her place sitting cross legged on Izumi’s back. “You’re actually pretty comfortable believe it or not and you know this always gets Kirishima fired up.”
Izumi can’t help the little giggle that bubbles up and out of her. Even if the thought of being anyone’s inspiration still makes her feel more than a bit giddy, she can’t exactly deny it in this case.
Her workouts always send Kirishima into fits of enthusiastic tears over how manly she is.
And now, only weeks into their second year as classmates and friends, Izumi knows for absolute sure he doesn’t mean that as an insult so it means all the more to her.
Unlike the first time he’d called her manly back in first year.
He’d looked so horrified by her tears that she’s pretty sure the picture is still set as the background on Kaminari’s phone.
“Time to switch,” Izumi announces.
“Aw,” Uraraka whines just a bit but she still hops off of Izumi’s back quickly enough.
A quick flex of muscle has Izumi in a handstand, another has her balanced on two fingers as she starts her next set of reps.
Since it’s her rest day Uraraka sprawls on the ground beside her, a magazine spread out on the floor between them. She keeps close enough to keep their conversation going while leaving enough space not to throw Izumi off her rhythm.
They chat for a while about different stuff while Izumi works her way through her sets, mainly gossip Uraraka picked up from Mina and Aoyama or about Aizawa-sensei’s last assignment.
Eventually they make their way towards the heavy duty weight set and new topics of conversation.
“So,” Uraraka draws the word out as she hands Izumi her towel between sets, voice thick with that slightly meddling tone that always makes the hair on the back of Izumi’s neck stand up, “you have anything new to tell me?”
“N-No?” Izumi blinks up at Uraraka as she blots at the sweat collected around her hairline absently. “I don’t think so?”
“Izu-chan,” Uraraka whines as she leans over the bar and stares down at her from where she’s been spotting Izumi’s reps. Zero gravity control can be a blessing in a weight room. “You can tell me. I promise I won’t even tell the others unless you say it’s okay. You know you can trust me.”
“I do trust you!” Izumi’s quick to reassure her best friend. Because it’s true. She trusts Uraraka and the rest of their class-turned-family more than she’d ever thought possible. Well, most of them. “I just don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about what’s going on with you, Todoroki, and Shinsou of course,” Uraraka promptly responds.
“What?” Izumi pauses, blinks at Uraraka in confusion, and cuts a quick glance towards the occupied ring across from them. “We’re friends.”
“Is that what it’s called these days?” Uraraka’s grin is wide and sly. She’s obviously been spending too much time with Mina again. “Come on, don’t be shy, give me the details.”
“The details about our friendship?” Izumi’s brow furrows as she tosses her towel back up to Uraraka and gets ready for another set. “It’s ... normal?”
“Trust me,” Uraraka says dryly, “the three of you are a lot of things, normal isn’t one of them.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Izumi admits as she presses the bar up, holds it, and then brings it back down.
“The three of you are so close now,” Uraraka says, hands ready as Izumi works through her reps. “I mean Todoroki’s been hovering over you since the Sport’s Festival last year but you’re obviously Shinsou’s favorite person besides Aizawa-sensei. Pretty sure he doesn’t really care about the rest of us too much.”
“Hito-kun will warm up to everyone,” Izumi believes that whole heartedly. Their class is too amazing for him not to like them and he’s too amazing not to have everyone like him back. “We just spent a lot of time together over the break so he’s more comfortable with me and Sho-kun right now. Give him time to get used to being in 2-A.”
“Oh see see!” Uraraka practically bounces in place. “There’s that too. You three spent practically the entire break in each other’s pockets. And you even gave them such cutesy nicknames. Sho-kun and Hito-kun. So intimate.”
Izumi feels her face flush at the way Uraraka sing-songs the last word.
“I’m super jealous though,” Uraraka sighs then. “Between you three and Momo and Jirou being so perfect together the rest of us are starting to look bad. Heroics comes first, of course, but I still kind of hope I find someone to date soon too!”
“D-Date!” Izumi yelps, arms suddenly surging upwards. The weight bar goes flying out of her hands and lands a few yards away with a loud crash, cracking the concrete of the training room floor.
For a split second all Izumi can do is cringe.
“Problem Child,” Aizawa-sensei’s exasperated voice floats across the room to Izumi. “Not again.”
“S-Sorry sensei!” Izumi calls in his direction, face crimson and heart racing, as she hops up off the bench and scurries over towards the bar, Uraraka following hot on her heels.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Uraraka presses, grin audible in her tone. “We all think you three are super cute together!”
“I’m not dating anyone!” Izumi practically wails, far louder than she intended if the sudden silence in the room is anything to go by.
“Of course you aren’t,” Kacchan snaps harshly from a distance. “Who’d date a ugly nerd like you anyways?”
A tired sigh from the ring gets Izumi’s attention and she turns, weight bar in hand, to look at where Shouto and Hitoshi have stopped sparring.
“Bakugou …” Hitoshi trails off meaningfully, warningly.
“Tch.” Kacchan scoffs, rolls his eyes, but instead of exploding he just turns back to spotting Kirishima.
It’ll never cease mystifying Izumi how, in only a few weeks as an official part of 2-A, Hitoshi has become one of the few people who can actually stop the normally explosive blond in his tracks a good percent of the time.
Or that Hitoshi seems determined to do so whenever Kacchan tries to lay into Izumi for one reason or another. Their relationship has settled since first year but old habits die hard and Kacchan has always had a temper. Still, used to his outbursts or not, a part of Izumi will probably never be used to someone being so willing and ready to stand up for her like that.
Sometimes Izumi can’t help but wish she’d met Hitoshi and Shouto years earlier.
Can’t help but wonder if they would have been so kind to her even when she’d been …
Izumi shakes the thought off sharply and plasters as big a smile as she can manage on her face.
At least, on a brighter note, the dorms this year have already been quieter now that Hitoshi has officially moved into the room next to Kacchan. Nowhere near as many evening explosions.
“She might be plain in the face but she’s so well endow-” Mineta’s voice oozes with perversion before it’s cut off with a quick flash of freezing cold and a high-pitched yelp.
“Todoroki,” Aizawa-sensei, curled in his half-zipped sleeping bag on one of the extra comfortable lawn chairs Momo had made for him, doesn’t bother to say anything else.
Shouto just shrugs, expression unapologetic, and releases a small wave of heat. Mineta breaks free from the ice with another yelp, relatively unharmed but slightly singed around the edges. Aizawa’s scarf is there in the next second, wrapping around Mineta and tugging him back until he’s cowering at Aizawa’s feet.
Izumi’s pretty sure he didn’t even bother to lift the cat-printed sleep mask the class got for him to do it.
Ignoring the menacing aura now surrounding their sensei and sniveling classmate, Izumi flashes a brief but thankful smile in both boy’s directions before she turns to carry the bar back towards the bench.
If her shoulders are hunched a little higher than necessary and if she feels like their eyes are drilling directly into her back then that’s her business.
“So protective,” Uraraka practically coos in her ear as Izumi sets the bar back into place and reaches down to pick her towel back up.
Izumi whirls around, face red, only to find herself nose to chin with one half of Uraraka’s chosen topic of conversation.
“Sho-kun,” Izumi murmurs as she tilts back on her heels a bit to look up into his face.
“Are you alright?” Shouto stares down at her, eyes intense and voice as soft as it always is when he talks to her.
“Kitten’s fine,” there’s a line of heat against Izumi’s back then as arms snake up to drape over her shoulders and a sharp chin props itself on top of her sweaty hair.
Izumi goes rigid, face flushing even harder and hair standing on end, before her brain catches up with what’s going on and she realizes exactly who it is.
“Hito-kun,” Izumi huffs as she slumps just a bit. “Get off. I’m all sweaty and I probably stink.”
“You always smell good,” Hitoshi denies, a long-fingered hand coming up and curving around to flick lightly at her nose.
“Like vanilla and sunflowers,” Shouto agrees even as he holds out his water bottle in Izumi’s direction.
Still flushed, Izumi accepts it without too much thought and takes a deep drink of the perfectly chilled water.
Somewhere beside her Uraraka makes a small strangled sound in the back of her throat.
“We still on for tonight?” Hitoshi asks then, body shifting until his chin’s resting on her shoulder instead, nose brushing against the line of her jaw and his lean height practically curled around her.
Izumi bites back a shiver at the feel of his breath on her throat.
“Of course,” Izumi agrees happily with a small but decisive nod. “We’re going to Sho-kun’s room right?”
“Yes,” Shouto nods even as he reaches up to tug lightly on a loc of her messy hair. “We’ll go to yours next.”
“Okay,” Izumi grins up at him, always eager to spend time with both of them.
Uraraka and Iida might be her best friends, the first friends she’d made since preschool as far as that goes, but there’s just something about Hitoshi and Shouto that makes Izumi want to be with the both of them all of the time.
Shouto reaches up and ruffles her hair even as Hitoshi butts his forehead against her temple one last time before he straightens up. Hitoshi’s hands slide softly across her shoulders as he moves back around to Shouto’s side so they can go back to the ring together, heads bent together and obviously whispering as they move.
For a long moment Izumi just stands there frozen, watching as they walk away and then eventually get back to the quirkless sparring they were doing before. Hitoshi’s really come a long way with his hand to hand since last year. Shouto’s form is, as always, practically perfect.
“Not dating huh?” Uraraka asks dryly as she steps back up to Izumi’s side. “Bullshit.”
“Uraraka!” Izumi practically wails as she turns to flap her hands in her best friend’s direction.
Uraraka just cackles loudly as she dodges away from Izumi’s flailing.
Izumi does her best to get her heart rate to calm down and her blush to fade.
Because it’s obviously a ridiculous idea, the three of them dating.
Izumi knows what she looks like, knows she’s not the type of girl guys normally like. Not with her short, wild hair, thick layer of freckles, and all of her scars. Especially when compared with all of the absolutely gorgeous girls in 2-A or in UA overall.
So the thought of her, Midoriya Izumi, dating anyone is kind of ridiculous.
Not to mention two people as great and strong and handsome as Hitoshi and Shouto both are in their own unique ways.
It would never happen.
~~~
Izumi spends the evening holed up with Hitoshi and Shouto in Shouto’s room.
They lay together, the three of them, sprawled across the tatami mats and continuing the tradition they’d started over the break.
They talk about all kinds of things, about secrets and dreams and all of the things they’d each missed thanks to growing up with no friends.
Each of them filling in gaps that the other two has in one subject or another.
Shouto with his knowledge of more traditional things, Hitoshi with video games and popular culture, Izumi with hero fights and the games she used to play with her mom because somehow she’s the only one who had a truly loving parent as a child.
Sometimes it’s sad, the things all three of them missed out on for different reasons, Shouto with his home life, Hitoshi with his so called villainous quirk, and Izumi with, well, her entire situation before UA.
But, sad or not, paid for in blood and sweat and broken bones or not, Izumi wouldn’t trade what she’s found here, with this class, with these friends, with the two of them, for anything.
~~~
“ …-sk her?” Hitoshi’s whisper comes to Izumi from a distance.
“Not yet,” Shouto’s voice is just as quiet but closer.
Izumi shifts, feels a warm hand settle on the back of her neck and then slide down to press against her shoulder as a length of something cooler presses against the backs of her knees.
Being lifted almost wakes Izumi the rest of the way up but then there’s a familiar hand pressing against her temple, fingers sliding up into her hair.
“Go back to sleep, Kitten,” Hitoshi tells her softly. “We’ve got you.”
And, because she trusts both of them so much, Izumi does.
~~~
Izumi wakes up the next morning tucked firmly in her own bed, a half hazy memory of being carried back to her dorm room floating through her mind.
It’s … nice.
~~~
Another few days go by and, freshly showered and wrapped in her favorite oversized All Might sweater after another afternoon workout, Izumi makes her way down to the common room and towards the kitchen.
The majority of the class is already milling around the kitchen as well, hungry after an afternoon spent in the training room.
Izumi smiles at the various greetings that float over towards her, flaps a sweater covered hand in Uraraka’s direction where she’s hovering by Kirishima’s side, and heads directly for the refrigerator.
She pulls out the large container filled with her goopy green, specially crafted nutrient mix. It looks and tastes a bit like sludge but Recovery Girl had given it to her with orders to drink it before and after every workout during her check-up at the start of school. Lunch Rush has been kind enough to agree to have a new container of it made up for her every three days.
Izumi can’t help the way she pouts just a bit when she opens the cabinet to get a glass only to find out that someone’s moved them all up a shelf, again, and she’s too short to reach.
She’ll either have to jump, get a stool, or use one of the glasses set aside for Mineta in one of the lower cabinets. Izumi bites back a shudder at even the thought of using anything Mineta’s used.
She’d rather drink directly from the container.
Izumi loves her class, really she does, but she’s also pretty sure the only reason Aizawa-sensei hasn’t expelled Mineta yet is so he can keep a close eye on him. That or to gather evidence.
“Here,” a long arm suddenly moves past Izumi’s head as a perfectly divided line of heat and cold presses up against her back.
Shouto plucks a class off of the top shelf, puts it down on the counter in front of her, and then takes a step back before Izumi can collect her thoughts enough to say anything.
“Thanks,” Izumi finally forces herself to whisper as she pours her drink with hands that tremble just a bit, all too aware of just how close Shouto still is.
She’s grown used to him and Hitoshi being in her space more often than not and closer than pretty much anyone else ever has been except for Kacchan but …
Well.
Drink poured Izumi turns, the container in hand, but before she can move too far Shouto grabs it from her hands and then steps to the side and puts it back in the refrigerator himself.
Then he steps back even further into Izumi’s space than before, crowding her back against the counter, eyes intense as he stares down at her.
“S-Sho-kun,” Izumi squeaks, a flush already stealing across her cheeks again.
“Strawberry,” Shouto murmurs seemingly to himself, his right hand coming up to poke lightly at her cheek, fingertip cool against her flushed skin.
“Move, assholes,” Kacchan growls from beside them suddenly, eyes narrowed and a familiar sneer on his face as he steps up towards the refrigerator beside them. Izumi can’t help the way she curls in on herself just a bit for a split second, an automated and long conditioned response she’s mostly broken herself out of by now.
Mostly.
“No,” Shouto doesn’t flinch, just turns his head and stares Kacchan down evenly.
“I said, move, IcyHot bastard,” Kacchan spits. “You wanna paw at the ugly nerd do it somewhere else, fucking losers.”
“Kacchan,” Izumi hisses, embarrassment flaring high again. “Sho-kun isn’t, we’re not …”
“What’s the Pomeranian yapping about now?” Hitoshi’s voice floats into the kitchen then.
Izumi peeks around Shouto’s broad frame and spots him just stepping into the room, hair still damp from his shower and a towel slung around his shoulders.
“I think he’s jealous, or just barking for attention,” Shouto says with a small shrug, making no real move to step away from Izumi. Instead he leans just a bit closer, one hand coming to rest on the counter-top beside her. He’s angled himself just a bit between her and a glowering Kacchan, managing to separate them effectively and to cage her in even further against the counter-top than before all at the same time.
Izumi’s positive her face is going to be permanently red after this.
“Oh shit,” someone, Izumi’s pretty sure it’s Sero, murmurs in the background.
“Makes sense,” Hitoshi agrees, moving across the room until he’s leaning against the counter on Izumi’s other side.
Shouto automatically shifts to accommodate him until Izumi’s firmly trapped between the two of them, Hitoshi on her right and Shouto in front of her.
“The fuck did you say?” The familiar scent of burnt caramel is heavy in the kitchen then as small, controlled explosions detonate in the palms of Kacchan’s hands.
Iida’s faint “language!” goes ignored like it always does.
“I said I think you’re jealous,” Shouto cuts back evenly, completely unruffled by Kacchan’s glare, “or just barking for attention, like always.”
“Holy shit,” Kaminari breathes in the background. “I think Todoroki might be god.”
“Please don’t fight,” Izumi breaks in, trying to tamp this entire situation down before it spirals out of control.
If they destroy the kitchen again so early into the year Aizawa is going to be pissed.
“No, no,” Hitoshi slides just a bit closer to her side, swaying sideways until he can press his nose against her temple. “Let him talk, I promise I won’t even brainwash him this time. I’ve got all faith he’ll fuck up enough on his own as is.”
“Am I awake right now? ” Kaminari sounds almost hysterical.
“Fuck off, mind-freak,” Kacchan growls. “Watching you two paw at the nerd all the time is seriously pissing me off.”
“Jealous,” Shouto nods solemnly as if in agreement.
“Fuck you, IcyHot,” Kacchan practically shrieks. “I’m not jealous I’m sick as fuck of having the shit rubbed in my face all the time. You two extras aren’t even dating fuckin Deku and I still have to see this shit all the time.”
“You know what Bakugou?” Hitoshi straightens up from beside Izumi. “You’re actually one hundred percent right for once in your life.”
The entire kitchen goes abruptly still.
Even Kacchan looks confused for a split second.
Instead of saying anything else to Kacchan, Hitoshi just cuts a glance towards Shouto.
“Now good?” Hitoshi asks, a brow raised in question. “Getting kinda tired of waiting.”
“I’ve been waiting since last year,” Shouto says with the air of someone pointing out a well-known fact.
“Yeah, because you’re an emotionally stunted dumbass who couldn’t get his shit together,” Hitoshi shrugs, a very ‘what can you do?’ sort of expression on his face. “It’s all good though, that’s why I’m the mouthpiece of this operation.”
Shouto makes an agreeing sound in the back of his throat.
“Stop ignoring me, you fucks,” Kacchan bursts in then, arms spread at his side and expression seething.
“Yeesh,” Hitoshi scrunches his nose up a bit, “so impatient. Anyways, you’re right, neither of us are dating Izumi. Yet.”
Izumi, taken just a bit aback by the use of her first name instead of the nickname Hitoshi usually uses, abruptly chokes on air as the rest of what he’d said registers.
“Oh god it’s happening,” Jirou’s slightly awed voice speaks up from the corner of the kitchen, “Momo, babe, get the camera. I need this for when I DJ the wedding.”
Izumi’s been on fire a few times in the past, it felt a lot like this to be honest.
Actually, now that she’s thinking about it, being set on fire had been both less shocking and less embarrassing overall.
“There’s a sakura viewing in Tokyo next weekend,” Hitoshi reaches out and taps a finger against the point of Izumi’s nose. “Go with us, the both of us.”
“As a,” Izumi swallows harshly, eyes darting between Hitoshi standing beside her and Shouto who’s still practically looming over her, “like as a-a date? With both of you?”
“Yes,” Shouto actually speaks up then. “A date, with both of us.”
“Say yes,” someone, Izumi thinks it might be Hagakure, hisses in the background.
“O-Okay,” Izumi bites down sharply on her lower lip, hands coming up to tug at the hem of her sweater. “I-I’d like that.”
In front of her Shouto breaks out into a rare full-blown smile while beside her Hitoshi just looks supremely smug.
The entire kitchen cheers, Uraraka and Mina rush across the room, shoving past Shouto and Hitoshi to grab Izumi by the shoulders and pull back her towards the other girls and Aoyama. Izumi lets them lead her along as they bounce and yell in excitement, gushing about outfits and hairstyles and how romantic it’ll all be.
Somewhere behind her Kacchan abruptly explodes.
But, for once, Izumi’s too dazed to notice it.
She has a date.
With Shouto and Hitoshi.
Both of them.
At the same time.
An actual date.
Oh god.
~~~
Izumi spends the next day in a haze, making it through classes and her workout on auto pilot.
The entirety of 2-A, with the exception of Mineta and Kacchan of course, are in high spirits. High spirits that seem to have spread outwards to the rest of their year and then beyond as well.
The word of her, Hitoshi, and Shouto’s date is, apparently, big news for some reason.
Izumi’s even sure she saw a smug Kendou and some of the other students in 2-B exchanging money. Monoma in particular had looked sour.
Plus a group from Management had cornered her outside the cafeteria and gone on about “marketability” and how “high school sweethearts sell well” and other things that made her head spin a bit until Hitoshi had come by and dragged her away to sit at their table between him and Shouto like always.
But, unfortunately, that’s not the end of it.
Instead things just get stranger from there because it’s not only the students who are interested in The Date™ that’s now taken on official capital letters in Izumi’s mind.
Mic-sensei keeps whining about his “dark horse Shindo” and Aizawa keeps getting cornered by various other teachers and then ends up counting suspiciously thick wads of money after they walk away and he won’t stop smiling.
It’s kind of terrifying to be honest.
Izumi’s torn between being slightly indignant about the obvious betting ring that’s been operating right under her nose and being pretty sure that the entire school’s gone absolutely insane.
Especially since All Might of all people had stared at her with suspiciously bright eyes, blood leaking from the side of his mouth, and started choking out things like “my precious girl ” and “growing up too fast ”.
The rest of the week progresses pretty much like that. The one bastion of normalcy for Izumi is the fact that neither Shouto nor Hitoshi really act any different towards her.
Well there might be a bit more contact than before with Hitoshi draping himself over her shoulders far more often and Shouto standing so close he’s practically glued to her side.
Which, Izumi can’t help but admit, given the general lack of physical boundaries between the three of them before that’s actually saying something.
She likes it though, likes being so close to both of them, even if the thought of admitting it to anyone but herself feels like enough to set her aflame.
But then the weekend creeps up on her and before Izumi knows it she’s heading to class the morning before The Date™.
Uraraka and Iida are bracketing her, Hitoshi and Shouto nowhere to be seen for once, as they make their way to their classroom.
The room is suspiciously full and quiet when Izumi pulls the door open and freezes, Uraraka and Iida behind her, as a number of eager faces turn in her direction.
Wide eyed and confused Izumi darts a look between a smug looking Hitoshi in the back of the class, a glowering Kacchan, and an attentive Shouto.
“Morning,” Izumi manages to greet the class weakly and gets back a number of loud and enthusiastic greetings as she moves towards her desk.
She can’t help the way she stops though when she sees the small, neatly wrapped present sitting on top of her desk.
It’s a small, thin thing, about the size of her hand and it’s wrapped expertly in a deep, rich green paper.
Izumi hooks her bag on the side of her desk and sits down all without taking her eyes off of the gift.
Her hands shake just a bit as she slowly unwraps it, aware of the eager and impatient eyes watching from around the room but unwilling to rip the paper.
The thin, black lacquered box with three cheerful looking sunflowers painted across the from is a pleasant surprise. Izumi’s never owned anything so finely made before.
But then she can’t help the way she squeaks just a bit out of embarrassment when she opens it and sees what’s resting inside on the red velvet lining.
Two barrettes are laying there, both of them pin style and exquisitely detailed.
One has a strawberry charm on the end and the other a purple furred kitten face.
It’s more than obvious that this is a joint gift from Hitoshi and Shouto. Just like it’s obvious which pin is from which boy.
“Aw,” Hagakure coos from over Izumi’s shoulder. “They’re so cute, just like you Mido-chan!”
There’s a chorus of agreement from the other girls, and a number of the guys, in class.
It only stops when Aizawa, a grin still on his face, rolls his way into the room a few minutes later.
Izumi spends the rest of the morning alternating between peeking into her bag and staring at the box and trying not to take the pins back out again.
No one’s ever given her a gift like this before.
And no matter how things turn out between the three of them, no matter how The Date™ goes or what the future holds, Izumi knows she’ll treasure them forever.
Just like she’ll treasure the bond she’s managed to forge between her and both boys.
Especially since Izumi really wants that bond to keep growing and never stop.
~~~
Izumi doesn’t get the chance to thank either Hitoshi or Shouto for the gift.
Not even at lunch since Kirishima and Kaminari grab each of them by the arm and drag them away to another table where the other boys of 2-A are gathered.
Izumi’s pretty sure she hears Kaminari say something about “can’t see the bride before the wedding” and the implications of that make her blush even darker than before.
She doesn’t have long to wonder though because the 2-A girls and Aoyama descend on Izumi with a single-minded sort of focus, dragging her to a different table where Mina and Uraraka are already settled with what looks like a stack of fashion magazines.
“Alright,” Uraraka starts, a slightly manic look in her eye, “Aoyama’s doing makeup, Mina’s got hair, and Momo’s volunteered to help with clothes. So all we need to do now is find the perfect outfit and you’ll be ready for tomorrow Izu-chan.”
“This is an awful lot isn’t it?” Izumi stares at the pile of magazines on the cafeteria table with something like dread pooling in her stomach.
“Nope,” Mina chimes in. “We’ve got to make sure you knock those boys dead tomorrow!”
“Plus we’ve all seen your clothes Mido-chan,” Tsuyu pipes in then. “They’re very you and we love you a lot but we thought you might want something different for a first date.”
There’s a round of nodding agreement from everyone else.
“Alright,” Izumi sighs, shoulders slumping, “show me what you’ve got in mind.”
And just like that they’re off.
Izumi sits back and watches magazines flying back and forth across the table, pages being ripped and set to one side or entire books tossed into the rejected pile.
By the time lunch is over there’s an intimidatingly large pile of potential outfits that Izumi’s apparently going to have to try on later.
~~~
That afternoon, after classes and training and once everyone’s showered and cleaned up, Izumi’s hustled into Mina’s room.
The other girls and Aoyama show up quickly too, Jirou and Momo both carrying bags filled with snacks and drinks.
“Okay!” Uraraka, the obvious ringleader with this entire thing, claps her hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Iida agreed to keep an eye out for Mineta so let’s get this show on the road!”
Everyone converges on Mina’s bed, Momo already eating some kind of food bar and staring at the picture of one of the chosen outfits in concentration. Meanwhile Izumi finds herself ushered into a chair with Mina standing behind her, a bag of hair care tools settled on the table beside her.
“You’ve got such pretty hair, Mido-chan,” Mina tells her, fingers already running through Izumi’s wild green mess. “I bet it’d look good long too but it’s really cute short like this. I’m just gonna trim up your ends a bit okay? Nothing major, just to make it look healthier. Is that fine?”
Izumi nods and hums in agreement even as a small smile spreads across her face. This has all been a whirlwind, has all been a bit overwhelming, but it just makes her feel warm inside now that she’s had a chance to breathe a bit.
Because, looking around the room, it really hits her yet again how much she loves her friends.
They’re all here, so excited and eager to help, over her.
~~~
After Mina trims her hair Izumi finds herself shuffled into and out of at least two dozen completely different outfits, all courtesy of Momo’s skill with her quirk.
Some get vetoed immediately. Some get set aside for further consideration. And one or two make Izumi turn red as she tugs a hemline down or a neckline up.
All the while Jirou snaps picture after picture with a devious smile on her face.
Finally everyone, Izumi included, agrees on one outfit in particular.
Looking in the mirror and seeing herself in the clothes her friends picked out and made for her is enough to make Izumi tear up just a bit.
“Yup,” Hagakure announces from behind her, voice fond, “this is definitely the one.”
Staring at herself in the mirror all Izumi can do is smile and nod and try not to cry.
Everyone cheers.
~~~
That night, exhausted from so much ‘ quality girl time’ as Aoyama had called it, and Inko’s tears and excited shouting filled phone call, Izumi stares down at her phone and the private chat she has running with Shouto and Hitoshi.
HiTooTired : @IzuMight missed you today
Sho-kun: Very much.
IzuMight : Missed you too
IzuMight: Very much
Sho-kun: I’m looking forward to tomorrow.
As always Shouto’s ever proper sentences makes Izumi smile just a bit.
HiTooTired: Same
IzuMight : Me too
And then, before Izumi can talk herself out of it, she adds onto her reply.
IzuMight : <3
There’s a moment of silence and then.
HiTooTired : <3
Sho-kun : heart
Face red, more excited and nervous than should be possible, Izumi presses the edge of her phone against her chin and tries not to scream in what feels a lot like glee.
~~~
The next morning comes too soon and not fast enough all at the same time.
Izumi’s a mess of nerves by the time Uraraka bursts into her room with Aoyama and Mina in tow.
“Isn’t it a bit early for this?” Izumi asks weakly as she stares at Mina’s hair bag and Aoyama’s makeup kit.
“Nope!” Uraraka chimes with a bright smile. “You’re gonna have to take the train to Tokyo anyways so you’ll be leaving early if you want to get a good spot.”
“Don’t worry Mido-chan,” Mina grins brightly. “We’ll have you ready in a snap so you can destroy both those boys.”
“Mademoiselle will shine even brighter than normal,” Aoyama agrees with a wink. “And I’ll barely have to do a thing.”
Izumi bites at her bottom lip and takes a deep breath.
Then she straightens her shoulders and nods.
She’s ready to do this. She wants to do this.
Because … Shouto and Hitoshi … no one has ever made her feel the way both of them do.
~~~
Izumi takes one last bracing breath as she stares at herself in the mirror.
She looks … like herself actually only a bit more somehow.
Mina had done something that, combined with the slight trim from last night and with the barrettes Shouto and Hitoshi had gotten her firmly in place, makes her hair look a bit more orderly without really changing her normal style. But her hair’s also so much softer than its ever been in her life.
Aoyama, for all of his flamboyant sparkling, had been extremely light with her makeup. Just a bit of eyeliner really and some pretty apple red lip stain that tastes faintly of strawberries.
‘A treat for your boys', he’d told her with another outrageous wink, a thought that still makes Izumi flush just a bit.
It’s the outfit they’d all settled on the night before that ties it all together though.
Because even though it’s surprisingly comfortable, is still more than a bit out of character for Izumi who normally lives in t-shirts and shorts when not in a uniform of some sort.
But, like they’d said the night before, it is her first date with two boys she really …
Izumi shakes the thought off with an embarrassed huff and focuses back on the mirror.
The dress stops a bit above her knees but it’s a cute sea-foam color with a white collar and a matching white belt cinched around her waist. It also has a convenient pocket built into the skirt for her phone and ID thanks to Momo who had even made her a black choker and pair of black sandals to go with it.*
Looking in the mirror Izumi can’t help but think that, even with her freckles and her scars and a lifetime of feeling otherwise, for once she really, actually, feels pretty.
“Plus Ultra,” Izumi murmurs to herself before she turns to head down to the common room where Hitoshi and Shouto are waiting for her.
~~~
Kacchan’s the one who actually sees Izumi first when she turns the corner off of the stairs. For a split second his eyes widen and his mouth drops open just a bit as he stares at her.
Izumi gives him a small smile but her attention is quickly stolen by the sound of Kaminari choking out a warbling ‘holy shit’ and Kirishima’s quiet and almost awed sounding ‘bro’ as he reaches out and slaps at Kacchan while still staring at Izumi.
And then, just that quickly, everyone else’s attention is focused on her too.
Including Hitoshi and Shouto who both turn in her direction and then abruptly freeze.
“Hi?” Izumi says, one hand coming forward to press nervously against the front of her skirt as she raises the other in a slight wave. “I’m uh … I’m ready?”
For a long moment Hitoshi and Shouto both just stare at her. Hitoshi’s eyes are wide and there’s a line of red across his cheeks while Izumi’s pretty sure there’s actual steam wafting out of the collar of Shouto’s black button-up shirt.
“One hit k.o.,” Jirou whispers from off to the side, with what looks like a professional-grade camera raised in their direction.
That seems to snap Hitoshi and Shouto out of whatever daze they’ve fallen into because they both step forward then.
“You look really ...” Shouto seems at a loss for words even as he reaches out and takes her right hand in his.
“We need to leave now,” Hitoshi presses as he reaches out to grab her left.
“Yes,” Shouto agrees with a decisive nod. “Now.”
“Not so fast,” Jirou calls out, moving closer with the camera still raised high. “Pictures first.”
~~~
They’re only allowed to escape after what feels like roughly a million pictures of the three of them both together and with others from 2-A mixed in.
Jirou had even managed to drag All Might and Aizawa of all people into a few.
Eventually though Hitoshi had snapped, brainwashed Jirou, and tugged Izumi towards the door while Shouto had followed behind and slicked the floor with a layer of ice to cover their retreat.
Giggling Izumi had let herself be tugged away from the dorms, across campus, and then out of the gates of UA.
Now, on the way to the station, one hand firmly captured by each of her dates, Izumi isn’t sure what to do.
Luckily enough, or not she’s not really sure, the walk isn’t too far and the train is already packed with people more than likely on their way to do the exact same thing they are so they take the ride mostly in silence.
And, pressed between Hitoshi and Shouto, buffered from the crowd, Izumi feels surprisingly comfortable and safe somehow.
Deciding to just enjoy it Izumi leans slightly against Shouto’s side, tugs Hitoshi just a bit closer, and just lets herself bask for a while.
~~~
“Let’s stop and get a few things before we head to the park,” Hitoshi decides once they’re off the train at the correct station.
“We need a blanket,” Shouto agrees, “and then whatever else we want as well.”
“We should’ve brought stuff with us from the dorm,” Izumi says, brows furrowed just a bit. “Buying everything now will be expensive.”
“Don’t worry,” Shouto holds up a black card between two fingers. The name on it clearly reads Todoroki Enji. “I’ve got it covered so please, spend as much as you want. Really.”
“And I made sure it won’t come back around and bite any of us in the ass,” Hitoshi adds, unconcerned about what he’s roundabout admitting to. But then it’s not like either of them would say anything to anyone.
Instead of protesting again Izumi just shrugs lightly and nods in agreement. She’s not going to argue about this, that’s for sure. Especially since Shouto won’t get in trouble for it.
Besides, she’s always ready and eager to inconvenience Endeavor in any way possible.
~~~
They spend an hour or so going from shop to shop, laughing and tugging each other in one direction or the other.
Shouto makes Izumi pick out a large blanket and a cushioned pad for beneath it. And then he gets her to pick out a basket that the three of them fill up with drinks and snacks and the like until it’s heavy and practically groaning at the seams.
Izumi still carries it towards the park herself though because it honestly doesn’t weight much to her.
Once they arrive it takes them a little while to find a spot to settle in.
Thankfully though it’s still pretty early so they do manage to find a place for themselves off the main walkway where most people tend to set up for viewing parties. Shouto and Hitoshi spread the pad out on the ground and then the blanket while Izumi sets the basket to the side.
It feels surprisingly secluded and intimate, the little corner they managed to find. Feels removed to a degree from the hustle and bustle of the slowly growing crowd as families and groups of friends show up for their own viewing parties.
But, now that they’ve settled down together, Izumi can help but feel a bit nervous again.
Nervous and more than a bit embarrassed because she’s never been on a date before and she really really likes both of them so so much. But they’re also two of her closest friends and she doesn’t want to mess this up and make them realize dating her’s a bad idea because then what if they think maybe being friends with her is a bad idea too all because she’s not sure what she’s supposed to do or say or not do or say on a date and it’s all s-
“Calm down,” Hitoshi squeezes her hand from where he’s sprawled out beside her. “Just be yourself, Kitten. That’s why we’re here in the first place, right?”
“S-Sorry,” Izumi flushes a bit more as she realizes she’s been mumbling the entire time. It’s a habit she’s mostly broken in the field but in her day to day personal life and especially around people she trusts? Not so much.
“It’s cute,” Shouto announces from her other side. “Plus you shouldn’t be nervous. I think we’ve basically been dating for months now anyways.”
“What?” Izumi squeaks, taken completely off guard. Because, seriously, what?
“Well it’s nice that at least one of you has finally noticed,” Hitoshi sighs, shoulders rolling under his purple dress shirt. He looks as semi-exhausted as always but there’s also something fond tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Never thought I’d be what passes for the emotionally aware one in … any situation really.”
“How?” Izumi manages to ask. “Why do you ...?”
“I tell you both things I’d never tell anyone else,” Shouto picks up on her half-formed question even as he reaches up to press a warm fingertip against her cheek. “We go places together all the time or we sit in each other's rooms. You make my heart beat faster than it should and I let you touch me. I like it when you touch me. You even call me Sho-kun. I asked Fuyumi when she called yesterday and she said that sounds a lot like dating to her.”
“Well damn just lay it out there,” Hitoshi huffs out a small laugh. “I mean, you’re right and that’s basically exactly how I feel about it too, but still. We got real close, real fast. We’re friends but I don't think we've ever been just friends. Not really.”
Izumi just blinks, takes a moment to process what she’s just been told, and then abruptly deflates just a bit.
Because when they put it that way …
Well.
“I guess we’re kind of stupid aren’t we?” She can’t help but ask, a small smile already beginning to grow on her face. “Uraraka said basically the same thing to me a while back. I think we might have been obvious to everyone else even if we didn't realize it."
"Aizawa thanked me for his retirement fund," Hitoshi admits dryly. "I think he's gonna open a cat cafe or something."
"Your dad cried in my direction," Shouto says then. "I felt threatened."
"Sho-kun," Izumi half sighs, half whines. "All Might's still not my dad."
"Isn't he though?" Hitoshi asks as he shifts around until his head's resting on her lap.
On her other side Shouto does the same, his bi-colored hair mixing just a bit with Hitoshi's as they share her lap.
"He is, even if he does get choked up and almost faint every time I ask him about it," Shouto tells them both in all seriousness.
Izumi reaches down to flick her fingers in Shouto's face only to have him catch her hand in his. He presses a kiss to her fingertips and then drags her hand down to rest of his heart.
Not to be left out, Hitoshi grabs her other hand and does the same.
“You have him in your phone as Dad Might,” Hitoshi reminds her.
“No one’s supposed to know that,” Izumi grumbles. “And that doesn’t prove anything.”
Hitoshi just shrugs.
“Yes it does,” Shouto cuts in, “it proves I’m right.”
Izumi huffs and thumps them both on the chests with her captured hands.
For a while they sit there in the quiet together. Izumi gets her hands back and doles out snacks and drinks as Hitoshi and Shouto shift to laying beside her instead of resting their heads on her lap.
In the background noise of the park fading out as they enjoy each others company and the fleeting beauty of the sakura blossoms all around them.
And then the message tones on Shouto and Hitoshi’s phones both go off at the same time.
They fish their phones out and then they both make a choked off, slightly strangled sound at the same time.
“What’s wrong?” Izumi asks, perking up at the possibility of a problem even if her phone hasn’t made a sound.
“Not a damn thing in the world,” Hitoshi replies, eyes riveted to his phone, “except I think I might owe Jirou a kidney or something. Thankfully I have two.”
“I’m buying her a gift later,” Shouto says earnestly, steam wafting out of his collar again. “Something huge and expensive.”
“Guys,” Izumi reaches out and pokes both of them in the shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“You have a lot of freckles,” Shouto says out of nowhere, eyes finally lifting from his phone to stare at her.
“I, what?” Izumi blinks.
Shouto turns his phone around and Izumi just stares a minute at the picture of her in high cut black shorts and a fitted red top. It’s one of the rejected outfits from the night before.
“Jirou,” Izumi groans because that explains why she’d been snapping photo after photo the night before and grinning like a villain.
“I really hope you kept all those clothes,” Hitoshi cuts in with a sly grin, “because I’d really like to see you in all of them sometime. Or out of em.”
“Hitoshi!” Izumi wails, hands coming up to cover her face as she flushes so deeply she’s pretty sure she’s putting off actual flames like Shouto.
Hands, one cool and one warm, wrap around her wrists then and pull her hands down and away from her face. When Izumi opens her eyes her heart skips a beat because Shouto is so close.
Shouto just stares at her for a moment, eyes intense, and then he slowly leans forward.
And, embarrassed or not, all Izumi can think to do is meet him halfway.
The kiss is soft, a press of lips both cool and warm against hers as Shouto releases her hands and brings his own up to cup her left cheek in his palm.
Izumi sighs softly, mouth opening just a bit against his. Shouto takes it as an invitation, tongue sliding forward and into her mouth, movements gentle and slow.
A hand, long fingered and calloused, presses against Izumi’s knee then and slides up just a bit until it’s pressing against the muscle of her inner thigh and then Hitoshi’s mouth is pressing a light kiss to the side of her neck.
Izumi breaks the kiss with a slight moan, unable to bite the sound back.
“I like that sound,” Hitoshi murmurs in her ear as he presses a kiss to the lobe, “you should make it again.”
“I’ll make her,” Shouto’s voice is lower and rougher than Izumi’s ever heard it before.
And then he’s kissing her again, harder and deeper than before. Izumi kisses back, head gone fuzzy and feeling as if she might come out of her skin and float away all at the same time.
Izumi’s panting when the kiss breaks this time only to have her breath stolen all over again when Shouto moves down to press his lips against the corner of her jaw. Hitoshi, his hand still on her thigh, presses up and into her space then to kiss her instead.
He’s slightly rougher than Shouto, teeth nipping at her bottom lip in a way that sends a flash of heat down her spine.
Between his kiss and the way Shouto’s sucking lightly at the curve of her throat Izumi feels as if she might come apart at the seams.
And then one of Shouto’s hands comes down to settle on the opposite knee from Hitoshi’s.
“Izumi,” Shouto pulls back enough to whisper in her ear. “Can we touch you?”
Hitoshi’s lips are red when he breaks the kiss and pulls back enough to look at her.
“You don’t have to let us if you don’t want to,” Hitoshi tells her softly. “You can say no. You can always say no to us.”
“I’d never hurt you like that,” Shouto agrees instantly. “We would never hurt you like that.”
Izumi’s heart melts just a bit at the earnestness in both of their voices.
Because the thing is, she already knew that.
Already knew she could trust them with anything.
With everything.
“Okay,” Izumi bites at the inside of her lip.
Hitoshi takes a deep, shuddering breath, and slides the hand on her thigh up higher. Izumi can’t help the way she jolts just a bit when his fingertips finally touch the thin lace of her panties.
“Is this okay?” Hitoshi whispers as he leans closer to her, forehead pressing against her own.
“Y-Yeah,” Izumi breaths the word out.
Hitoshi’s fingers shift, the lace moves to the side, and then suddenly he’s touching her skin to skin.
“Shit,” Hitoshi hisses out, fingers sliding against her skin and then a single one presses down and in. “Shouto she’s so soft.”
Shouto’s hand slides up her thigh leaving a trail of warmth in its wake as he pushes his way up beneath her skirt.
His fingers are thicker than Hitoshi’s are and so warm. Izumi whines high and loud in the back of her throat when Shouto presses one in alongside Hitoshi’s until they’re both inside of her.
“Shh, Kitten.” Hitoshi whispers. “Can’t be too loud right now. We don’t want anyone else to see.”
“That face, those noises,” Shouto says then as his thumb shifts and presses against Izumi’s clit, “they should only be for us.”
Izumi moans again, unable to stop the sound from escaping.
Shouto raises one knee and shifts until he’s sitting up and then reaches up his free hand and pulls Izumi closer, tucking her head beneath his chin so that her face is buried in his throat.
On her other side Hitoshi shifts as well until he’s closer to her. One of his legs also moves so that he can both balance and so that she’s hidden, just a bit, from anyone who might walk by.
“You’re so hot and wet,” Hitoshi breathes, finger working deeper in a rhythm that makes the lewdest sounds. “I’ve been thinking about this for months.”
There’s a coil tightening in the pit of Izumi’s stomach, something she’s only ever felt in the privacy of her room with her pillow clenched between her teeth.
“Since the Sports Festival,” Shouto agrees as he presses hard enough against her clit to make Izumi’s hips jump. “Didn’t understand what it meant but I wanted to touch you all the time. Now I can.”
“Both of us can,” Hitoshi corrects as he nips at her ear again. “Because we’re gonna share. We agreed. You’ve got enough for both of us don’t you, Kitten?”
Izumi moans, one hand coming up to claw at the back of Shouto’s neck while the other latches onto Hitoshi’s forearm.
But they don’t stop, not that she really wants them to.
Instead they work her together, a matched kind of rhythm that pushes Izumi higher and higher, tightens that coil further and further.
Izumi sobs and shudders, moans muffled against Shouto’s throat until she can’t handle it anymore. Until she has to turn her head and bury her teeth in the meat of his shoulder to muffle her scream as bright bursts of light explode behind her eyelids and a hot wave of pleasure crashes over her.
Izumi comes back down in stops and starts. She feels both exhausted and ramped up, like she used to back when she first figured out Full Cowl.
“So pretty,” Shouto breathes against her temple, fingers drifting over her slowly like he’s eager to start all over again.
“I want to see that again,” Hitoshi buries his face in the back of her hair, his fingers slick and hot against the inside of her thigh.
“Me too,” Shouto agrees. “I think we should do it again. She can take it.”
All Izumi can do is moan and shake and nod in agreement.
Plus Ultra.