Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Shoto absently rubbed his hands together as he sat keeping watch on the pier. The moon hung full, but faint at the edge of the horizon. The only other person out at this hour was an old fisherman, who was here more days than not, despite the chill of the morning. Shoto had already decided that it was still too cold for him to do any ocean swims. It was still too early in the year. 

His best friend was a different story.

“Izuku,” Shoto hissed, trying to be discreet, “Hurry up, we’re going to be late for school. My coach says I can’t have another tardy.”

It was around this time, six years ago, on this very pier that he had discovered his best friend’s secret, quite by accident. 

Like always, somehow Izuku and Shoto had found themselves at the beach. When they were out of school and not at home, they walked on the sand or on the worn wood of the pier. The sky was overcast that day, but the clouds weren’t heavy with rain, yet. The wind promised that there would be a storm that night. 

They had the pier all to themselves. Izuku walked ahead of Shoto, walking backward so he was facing Shoto while they talked.

‘How is the swim team going?’ Izuku asked, his fingers flying.

Izuku and Shoto had done nearly everything together since they were six, swimming was one of the few things that they didn’t. It had become a sore spot with Shoto, who couldn’t understand why Izuku wouldn't join him. He had begged him for years to join, but Izuku always had an excuse. 

“The coach says I’m a natural.” Shoto shrugged a little, “I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as my mother was though. I watched an old video of one of her competitions.”

‘She was good?’

“I think she’s gotta be part mermaid or something.”

Fuyumi had found some old videos tucked away at the bottom of a closet. Rei Himura had been one of Japan’s most promising Olympic divers before her family handed her over to Enji Todoroki, and the videos were proof of her grace. Shoto had watched them over and over after everyone had gone to bed, in awe of how she could make something so fearful into something so beautiful. She had to be the bravest woman standing on the edge of the world with only the water underneath to catch her. 

Izuku gave Shoto a funny look, before tripping backwards over his feet. Shoto grabbed him by the hand and pulled him upright. He quickly let go of Izuku’s hand so he could sign ‘I told you to be careful. You’re going to fall walking like that.’

‘Sorry! Sorry!’

“You would think someone that has done years of martial arts training, you would have better balance.”

‘Maybe if I had someone to practice with.’ Izuku lightly teased.

Shoto may have been the one to get Izuku into self defense, but like Izuku was with swimming, Shoto would never step on a training mat to hit another person. The bold scar on his face and the scar on his pinky finger were reminders enough.

‘You know diving and swimming are two different things, right?’

“I know, you need to see her to know what I’m talking about. Can I come over this afternoon? I’ll bring the video and we can both watch.”

‘I’ll have to ask my mom.’

They both knew that Shoto would be welcome over, but it was the polite thing to do. Shoto practically spent weeks at a time over at Izuku’s apartment for school breaks, and that wasn’t counting weekends. 

Izuku’s foot caught again on an uneven board. His arms pinwheeled over the water as he tried to catch his balance. Shoto lunged forward to grab him again, but his hand clutched the empty air. Izuku landed with a glorious splash.

Shoto watched, growing increasingly worried as Izuku didn’t resurface. Was it because Izuku didn’t know how to swim, that he had avoided joining swimming with Shoto all of these years? Shoto barely had his shoes off before he dove after his friend in the water. 

…

A freezing hand grabbed Shoto’s foot and yanked. Shoto grabbed the edge of the wood to keep from going over himself, biting back his cry of surprise.

“Asshole.”

Large green eyes danced under a mop of hair that didn’t look too much different from a knot of seaweed.

Webbed green fingers tapped their way up Shoto’s leg and under his pants. Shoto used his other foot to kick at the mer.

“Your hands are freezing and you know it!”

Izuku caught Shoto’s other foot and grinned wickedly.

“Pull me in. I dare you.” Shoto deadpanned.

“We’ll be late for school Shocchan.”

Shoto rolled his eyes and glanced over his shoulder. The fisherman wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to them. 

“Clear.”

Izuku heaved himself up on the dock. Shoto draped a towel over his head, hiding the fins that replaced his ears until he dried off more. Contrary to popular belief, mers could get a bit damp before they had to shift, and a mer had a little bit of leeway in deciding when they shifted back and forth. 

Izuku scrubbed at his head and shoulders, his tail hanging over the edge dripping. Shoto ran a finger over the smooth scales. He was very familiar with the various shades of green, lighter near his waist and darker as it traveled down to the tip of his tail. It could flash several shades of green in one movement, shifting between pine to moss to emerald, all depending on the sun and the depth of the water, and sometimes, Shoto thought, on Izuku’s mood. This early in the morning it looked a shade closer to dried nori. 

Izuku didn’t bother lifting his head, but he did use the tip of his tail to flick water at Shoto. He avoided touching the dorsal fin as Izuku shifted his weight to dig into his bag for his clothes. He knew from years of experience that it would slice his thumb open. 

He politely averted his eyes when the change happened. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen Izuku naked before. That sort of happened when you knew someone for nearly a decade. It was more to do with his recent realization that he was head over tail in love with his best friend. 

He had always loved Izuku, except perhaps when they first met. They were six and their mothers had enrolled them in an afterschool program for kids that were differently abled to create a network of support amongst one another. Shoto had hated every minute of it, especially the happy, go lucky kid that wouldn’t let Shoto simmer in his misery.  Izuku had approached Shoto on his blind side and startled him. Shoto pushed Izuku down. Even then, it didn’t deter Izuku from approaching Shoto until he finally agreed to play superheroes.

Shoto fixed his stare on the old fisherman, instead of the developing muscles in Izuku’s arms. The martial arts he had been doing for years were starting to show results. Staring at the old wrinkly man, took all the potential romance out of the situation like Shoto hoped it would.

Izuku gently tapped Shoto’s hand, signaling that it was okay to look again. When Izuku’s tail went away, so did his voice. 

‘Ready?’

Shoto nodded. They stood, and Shoto helped Izuku shove the towels into the bottom of his backpack. 

‘Aren’t you nervous?’

“Why would I be?”

‘We’ll find out if we got into the high school we applied to any day now.’

“I have no doubt that you’ll get into the high school you want, Izuku. You’re one of the smartest people in our whole school.”

‘So are you!’

“Then there is no reason to worry.”

Izuku gave him his signature wobbly smile that made Shoto’s heart beat a little too hard. 

All but the tips of Izuku’s hair had dried by the time they made it to the train to get to school. Shoto subconsciously angled himself to minimize his blindspot. Unfortunately, that didn’t leave any room for Izuku next to his right side. A soft tinkling letting Shoto know where Izuku was, the seashell bracelet he always wore letting Shoto know that Izuku had sidled up to his left.

He remembered the day that Izuku had made it. After the pushing incident, a one sided shouting match, they had become fast friends. 

They had been sitting by themselves at one of the craft tables. One of the teachers had brought in a large box full of seashells from the nearby beach for that day’s craft. Izuku was beyond excited, practically bouncing in his seat. Izuku’s shell bracelet was much more impressive than Shoto’s attempt at a picture frame. 

“Do you think my mom will like this?” Shoto held up the frame in question. 

Izuku looked at it with a critical eye. The large shell in the middle, slowly slid down before falling to the table with a splat. Shoto sighed out of his nose, ready to throw it in the trash. 

Izuku dug through the box, carefully selecting some smaller shells. He took the picture frame that Shoto abandoned on the table, wiped off the excess glue, and artfully stuck on his selection. He held it up to Shoto with a tentative smile.

“You’re so good at this,” Shoto mumbled. 

Izuku shrugged. He turned his attention back to his bracelet. Shoto rested his chin on the table and watched.

“Hey, Izuku?”

Izuku looked over at him. 

“Can you teach me sign language?” Shoto made the gesture for please. 

Izuku immediately nodded, but then held up a finger to ask Shoto to wait, and he pointed back to his bracelet.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t mean to stop what you’re doing.”

Izuku poked his tongue out of his mouth while he deftly wove together the last bit of shells and strings, before tying it off with a triumphant smile. He slid it over his wrist and gave it a small shake. It made a soft tinkling sound that only shells could make.

He grabbed a piece of paper and a green colored pencil and carefully wrote out his name. Izuku Midoriya. Next to it he wrote out Shoto Todoroki .

Izuku pointed to the paper and slowly signed out his first name like had taught Shoto to do a while ago. Shoto remembered well enough how to sign his first name, but he was much more clumsy on his last name. It was almost embarrassing how long it took Shoto to memorize his own name. But no matter how many times Shoto messed up, Izuku patiently went through the motions again and again. The bracelet softly clinking each time he moved. 

Over the years, Izuku had added new shells that they had found together at the beach or some that they had found together on swims, replacing the ones that broke. It had taken Shoto a painfully long time to realize why Izuku kept the seashell bracelet, why he wore it everyday, even when it stopped being cute and more of a fashion faux pas. 

Shoto reached out and brushed a knuckle fondly against the rough texture.

The train came to a stop and Shoto and Izuku got off at their stop. When they got to school they put their things away and switched to their indoor shoes. Izuku was still being oddly silent when it came time to part ways for class.

“Will I see you at lunch?” He asked.

Izuku shook his head. ‘I have some homework to finish up.’

“Don’t forget to eat something.” He waved at Izuku over his shoulder.

There was only a week or so left in school. Everyone had gotten more lax about their studies with the upcoming break, even the teachers’ lesson’s seemed halfhearted. But Shoto knew that Izuku would keep his work up to a stellar standard to the last day of school, afraid that somehow, it would affect him getting into the high school that they wanted to go to.

They had both applied to several of the same high schools, a couple of them in the more immediate area, but they had applied out of the area as well. Izuku had his heart set on a U.A. Academy, a prestigious high school located in Tokyo. It was said that if you graduated at the top of your class from U.A. any university would accept you, even schools abroad. 

Shoto hadn’t given much thought to what he wanted to do after high school. He imagined that he would figure it out when the time came. Izuku, on the other hand, wanted to do so many things that he couldn’t decide. He thought about being a social worker, helping differently abled children receive the care they needed. He wanted to work in the government and push for more equality. He wanted to be a doctor, a game designer, a marine biologist; it didn’t matter what it was, Izuku was determined to leave the world as a better place for everyone, and being unable to speak on land or sprouting fins in the water wasn’t going to stop him. 

The only thing that Shoto wanted was to go where Izuku went. It wasn’t even because of his stupid crush. He loved Izuku regardless of any romantic intentions. He was his best friend, and Shoto would follow him to the ends of the earth, no questions asked. That’s how it always was, and how it always should be. 

Shoto caught a glimpse of Izuku in the hallway between classes.

“Guess what? I overheard one of the teachers mention that we should be hearing back from the schools we applied to on Monday!’

‘You sure you can wait that long?’

‘Of course!’ Izuku scratched his cheek with his finger looking sheepish, ‘It’s not like I’ll have a choice.’

‘I better come over for the weekend just in case and keep you company.’

‘Let me text Mom and Dad.’

Shoto gave him a thumbs up.

…

Shoto waited for Izuku by the front gates. He nodded to a couple of his classmates when they waved goodbye to him. Izuku was running late, but not overly late that Shoto should go and look for him. He checked his phone to see if his mother had texted him back when he heard pounding footsteps.

Izuku waved his hands frantically, Shoto was just barely able to make out ‘ I’m sorry!’

“It’s fine. We haven’t missed the train yet.”

‘Mom said it’s okay for you to come over and spend the night.’

“We’ll need to stop by my place to pick up some of my clothes. What took you so long anyway?”

‘I got caught up in the guidance office filling out some last minute scholarships.’

Shoto stuck his hands in his pockets and studied the sky, “Good thing that I’ll be over for the weekend. I can make sure that you eat something.”

‘I eat!’

He snorted, “Not when you’re nervous. I know you. You’re going to be nervous all weekend.”

Izuku gave Shoto a playful shove. Shoto responded in kind by messing up Izuku’s hair, not that it made much of a difference. It’s not like it was an excuse to run his fingers through his hair.

“And I was going to give you some chocolate too, but if you’re going to bully me,” Shoto walked ahead so that Izuku couldn’t see his smile.

Izuku yanked at the back of Shoto’s uniform, pulling him to a halt. He tried to make his face as blank as possible before he looked over his shoulder at his shorter friend. Shoto wasn’t sure if Izuku’s face was more expressive because he couldn’t speak or if that was just Izuku’s face.

Shoto wasn’t the best at reading people. He normally didn’t care to look at other people, but Izuku was different. Shoto could read his face like a book, and right now it was a page of affronted best friend outrage. 

Shoto took out the colorful package out of his pocket and untied the ribbon. He carefully plucked out a homemade bonbon and popped it into his mouth.

“Mmm, not bad.”

Izuku lunged, and it was only because Shoto was expecting it that he was able to hold the sweets up high enough that Izuku couldn’t reach. 

Izuku grabbed Shoto’s collar and looked him dead in the eyes. Izuku was so preoccupied with concocting the best retrieval strategy that when Shoto pressed a bonbon to Izuku’s lips, it caught him by surprise. Their faces were close enough that Shoto could practically feel the heat coming off of Izuku’s cheeks from his blush. 

Izuku freed his hands from Shoto's collar.

‘I can feed myself…’

But Izuku opened his mouth and accepted the chocolate anyway. He closed his eyes in bliss and sighed.

‘It’s so good.’

“You think all chocolate is good.”

Izuku shook his head.

“Do too.”

Izuku waved him off and grabbed the bag of chocolates from Shoto’s hand. 

He ate them until he had to put them away on the train. Once they were on the road to Shoto’s place, he took them back out to finish them off. 

‘Are these confession chocolates?’

“Yeah,” Shoto sighed, “I guess with it being the end of school everyone is trying to take their shot at me.”

For the past month, more often than not, when he got to school there was some kind of note or a treat on his desk. If he bothered to count them, he would guess that almost every girl in their grade, and a few braver ones in the grade below them, had tried to get him alone. 

Some of the girls wanted to simply thank him for letting them love him from afar, which Shoto didn’t understand at all, but he tried to be graceful with their feelings. Some girls were so shy that they shoved something in his hand and ran away. Whatever treats Shoto got out of it, usually were shared with Izuku, or Natsuo, if Izuku didn’t want it.

‘I thought that was more of a high school thing or, well, Valentine's day because of the treats?’

“Me too, but I guess not.”

Shoto thought fourteen going on fifteen was too young to be falling in love anyway, not that he was one to talk, but at least he didn’t act on his feelings.

He took his thumb and wiped at a crumb on Izuku’s cheek. Well, at least he didn’t act on his feelings often.

…

Shoto unlocked the door to the apartment he shared with his family. It was small, but not as small as the apartment they had first moved into when Rei had separated from Enji. There were three bedrooms instead of two, meaning that Rei got a room to herself, Fuyumi got a room to herself, and Natsuo, Shoto, and Touya shared the largest room. 

“I’m home.” Shoto called as he switched into slippers, “Izuku’s here too.”

“Welcome home,”  Fuyumi called from the kitchen. 

She was bent over the table working on a lesson plan, while something simmered away on the stove. 

“Hi, Izuku-kun,” Fuyumi greeted. She clumsily signed her greeting. “I’m sorry that I’m so out of practice. School has been so busy lately. Maybe I should plan a lesson around sign language?”

Izuku politely signed back, asking her about her day while Shoto went to put his stuff away.

“Are you spending the night over at the Midoriya’s?” Fuyumi asked. 

“Weekend.” Shoto answered as he walked to his room to get some clothes and to leave his school stuff.

“Wait, Shoto-” Fuyumi tried to warn him. 

Touya was sprawled out on his futon scrolling on his phone. His brother didn’t bother to acknowledge him, which was fine by Shoto. The less that they spoke to each other the better.

The eldest Todoroki sibling spent most of his time with a group of delinquents he met when he dropped out of high school. He dyed his hair black, wore thick, dark purple eyeliner, and had several facial piercings.  He had become the type of person that people would cross to the other side of the road to avoid. He had started to call himself Dabi, which Shoto thought was incredibly stupid.

‘Dabi’ wasn’t home often, but he did come home to give their mother peace of mind, letting her know that he was alive. Shoto was relieved that he was staying over at Izuku’s. It meant that he wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch, like he had done at their first apartment, after he had gotten too big to sleep with his mother and sister. 

Shoto set his books on the desk he shared with Natsuo, his other brother could put them away later when he came home from his university classes. It was a good thing that the closet was on Natsuo’s side of the room. He grabbed a few things at random, knowing if he had forgotten anything, he’d more than likely have it already over at Izuku’s.

‘Let’s go,’ Shoto signed before he gave Fuyumi a quick hug. 

“Remember to call Mom and let her know you got their safe, okay!”

“Okay.”

…

 Izuku rapped on the doorframe in a quick rhythm.

“Welcome home, Izuku,” Toshinori called from the couch, “Is young Shoto with you?”

Shoto knocked his knuckles against the doorframe, picking up the rhythm where Izuku left off.

Toshinori laughed and Shoto could feel it in his bones, even from where he stood several feet away. Toshinori stopped Izuku as he walked by the couch to pull him into a hug and ruffle his hair. Even though he wasn’t biologically Izuku’s father, no one could argue that the man didn’t love Izuku like his own. And if anyone saw how Izuku smiled, how the corners of his eyes crinkled when he was around Toshinori, no one could deny that Izuku was his son. 

“Your mother is in the kitchen.”

Izuku nodded and went to go and tell her about his day, while he made sure that she didn’t burn anything. 

Toshinori clasped Shoto’s shoulder, his spidery long fingers giving a weak, affectionate squeeze. The dark green bracelet that he wore around his wrist, slid down his bony arm. Shoto gave him a small smile in return.

“How was your day, my boy?”

Shoto shrugged in reply, “Fine.”

“Nothing wrong with a fine day,” Yagi leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes. Shoto forwent the obvious question on asking how he felt. Sweat beaded his brow and there was blood at the edge of his mouth. 

They lapsed into silence, Shoto never one to fill them, and Toshinori too exhausted to try. Across from where they sat on the couch was a small alcove that could be filled by a small shrine. The space was devoted to the love that was the Midoriya household. In the center was their first family picture, shortly after Inko and Toshinori were married. Izuku might have been four at the time, but still small enough that Toshinori practically held him with one hand. They all beamed at the camera with large happy smiles. 

Shoto knew Inko’s and Toshinori’s story well. The blond man would talk about it every chance that he got, much to his modest wife’s dismay. They had met at a grocery store. Toshinori had grown up in Japan, but had spent nearly as much time abroad receiving classical training in opera. Now being back in Japan for the first time in years, he was having trouble locating adzuki bean paste. Inko, an exhausted single mother of a one year old Izuku, helped him. 

They talked as they grocery shopped together. By the checkout lane, Toshinori was in love. He offered to help her cook dinner. By the time they were washing dishes, Inko was smitten as well. Unfortunately, work took Toshinori away, but they continued their relationship through letters and phone calls. 

Toshinori composed and performed an opera that was dedicated to his feelings for Inko and Izuku. It won several prestigious awards. Toshinori was already a rising star in the opera world, and the awards could have catapulted his career to new heights, but instead he returned to Japan, and married Inko in a small, private ceremony. He took Inko’s last name. 

His awards set nestled between more photographs that chronicled the Midoriya family’s life and affection. It also showed the decline of Toshinori’s health. What had started out as a cold had developed into an infection that attacked his lungs and his stomach. It left him unable to eat many foods, and it made it nearly impossible for him to sing like he had been able to. The doctor’s still had no idea what caused it, but Toshinori dealt with his sickness with as much grace as he could manage. Grin and bear it was his motto. 

“Shoto-kun, could you come here a second?” Inko called from the kitchen.

He passed Izuku walking out of the kitchen to put his bag away in his room. Shoto handed him his own to put away.

“Could you grab the set of bowls for me?”

Shoto nodded and grabbed the stack of bowls on the top shelf. He went ahead and grabbed the cups and the rest of the utensils and started to set the table.

“Did you hit another growth spurt?” Inko teased, “Before I know it, I will have to use a step stool to see your face.”

“Don’t let Izuku hear you,” Shoto smiled. He smiled wider when he saw the small scowl on Izuku’s face. He hated how much shorter he was than Shoto, but it made for good teasing material.

“I’m sorry, Izuku, you’re probably not going to get much taller. I’m not very tall, and neither was your birth father.” Inko apologized as she fussed over the tea. 

Shoto wondered if Izuku would be as plump and huggable when he got to be his mother’s age too. 

Izuku took the remaining plates from Shoto and finished setting the table. Shoto gravitated over to the stove when he smelled the faint smell of something starting to burn. He took a spatula and flipped the fish that was about to get scorched in the pan.

All merfolk lost something when they gained legs. For Izuku it was his voice and for Inko it was her sense of smell, which unfortunately affected her sense of taste as well. It made cooking a challenge, but she managed wonderfully by following recipes and keeping a close eye on the food while she cooked, though occasionally things got away from her. 

“Thank you, I didn’t realize that I had the heat set so high,” Inko leaned over to turn off the stove, as Shoto started to plate the fish. “You’re going to make someone a very nice husband one day.”

Shoto blushed to the tips of his ears. He and Izuku finished plating things while Inko got together Toshinori’s protein shake and medicine. Shoto pointed to the fish and signed ‘Cannibalism.’ Izuku shoved him like he deserved.

After a silent dinner, punctuated by the sound of chopsticks against bowls and the slurping of drinks, Shoto volunteered for dishes (it had happened more than once that Izuku had drenched himself by accident.) Izuku picked out a movie to watch. 

Inko and Toshinori snuck to their room, letting the boys have a monopoly over the tv. Izuku leaned his head on Shoto’s shoulder. They had spent many nights like this, watching superhero movies or shows that Izuku liked, while he gave a running commentary. 

It was close to midnight when the boys shuffled to Izuku’s room, the futon was already spread out on the floor next to the bed. Izuku must have done it earlier when he put their bags away. They changed clothes and crawled into bed. 

When they were much smaller, Shoto would just sleep in the same bed with Izuku. It was nice, both of them laying there awake, long after they were supposed to be asleep, writing secret messages on each other’s skin and trying to stifle Shoto’s giggles or Izuku’s kicking legs when things got too silly. 

Those were some of his favorite childhood memories, and Shoto still got the urge to take Izuku’s palm and write with his fingertip, even after they had both hit growth spurts that made them too large to share a tiny twin bed. 

As Shoto came awake in the early morning sunlight, he reached up to take Izuku’s hand and tell him about the dream that he had. Already it was slipping through his fingers, but it had been such a good dream. His fingers brushed the sheets before his good eye fully focused. Izuku had already gotten up and made his bed. 

Shoto sat up and rubbed his eyes, sighing as the last of his dream faded away into nothing but a fond feeling. He rolled up his futon and placed it in Izuku’s closet. 

He popped his head out the door, “ ‘Zuku?”

There was a sharp knock that came from the kitchen.

“You know we don’t have school, right? It’s illegal to be up this early.” Shoto yawned.

Izuku pushed a plate of eggs, leftover fish, and miso soup in his direction.

‘Mom and Dad left already. Dad has a doctor’s appointment, but they decided to make a day of it and spend some time in the city, do some shopping.’ Izuku handed him a mug of tea.

“Is your dad up for a date?” Shoto took a long drink.

Izuku gave a small smile and a shrug. It wasn’t easy to keep Toshinori down, even when he wasn’t feeling well. They had learned it was best to placate him and take it easy, rather than force him to stay at home. 

‘We have the whole day to ourselves.’

“After you finish your homework?” Shoto nodded to the papers on the table.

‘Won't take long.’

Sure enough, by the time that Shoto had finished breakfast and cleaned up his mess, Izuku was packing away his work. 

“Beach?” Shoto raised his arms above his head and clasped them while he stretched.

Izuku grinned.

…

“I can’t believe that I let you talk me into this.” Shoto hissed as he waded into the water. The day was gorgeous. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The sun was bright and warm. It would be a perfect day to swim, if this was June or July, but, unfortunately for Shoto, it was the end of March. The water was fucking cold.

He looked up as a shadow passed over his head, and Izuku dove into the water. Shoto sighed and waded over to where Izuku’s shirt had carelessly landed in the water, at least his pants and shoes were left on the rock next to them.

“You’ll warm up once you start swimming.” Izuku chirped.

“I hate you.” Shoto wrung out the sodden shirt and tossed it on the rock.

“You love me!”

Shoto put both of his hands on Izuku’s shoulder’s, his face solemn. “I do.”

“Wh-what?” Izuku stammered, blushing.

Shoto dunked Izuku under the water, for all the good it would do, when he had, ya know, gills, but it was the thought that counted.

Two strong hands wrapped around his ankles.

“Izuku,” Shoto managed to growl before he was yanked under. The cold made his chest constrict, and it was only instinct from years of swimming in less than ideal weather that kept his mouth shut. It certainly wasn’t the coldest water that he had been in, but it was a far cry from bathwater.

“You shouldn’t tease me, Shoto,” Izuku said. His voice echoed all around Shoto, clear as a bell.

Despite the sting of salt, Shoto opened his eyes. Izuku was ethereal in the water. He was meant to be in the water, his hair a halo around his head, his eyes faintly glowing, an expanse of lean developing muscle under freckled, tan skin. He was green, green, green. 

If Shoto was a lost sailor, Izuku wouldn’t even have to sing. All he would have to say was Shoto’s name, and Shoto would gladly flood his lungs for him.

Shoto kicked to the surface, he needed a breath of air and to put on his goggles. Izuku swam around him in lazy circles as he pulled his hair into a short ponytail. 

“Come on,” Izuku latched on to Shoto’s arm and pulled. 

“You know you can swim ahead of me.”

“It’s no fun swimming without you. Besides, who was it that begged me for years to swim with you? And wasn’t the first thing that you said to me after I transformed for the first time in front of you ‘We can swim together!’ And wasn’t it you-”

Shoto took a deep breath and dove back into the water. He could hear Izuku laughing behind him. 

Izuku was right, of course, about all of it. It was Shoto who had been the most excited to share something he loved doing with his best friend. He was also right, that the more Shoto moved the more that Shoto warmed up. 

Shoto put his body through the usual paces of his warm up, alternating between different strokes and exercises. It had only been four days since his last swim practice, but to his body it felt like weeks.

He was one of the best swimmers on his middle school’s swim team. Everyone always complimented him on how perfect his technique was, how long he could hold his breath, how fast he could swim. People assumed it was because he was dedicated to his routine and exercises, and Shoto let them believe that he was more diligent, more driven than he actually was, and everything he was wasn’t because of Izuku.

It was probably an unfair advantage that he was best friends with a mer, but Shoto wouldn’t complain. 

Izuku swam underneath him, watching to make sure that he didn’t favor one side or the other, that his form stayed perfect.

He caught a fresh breath of air. Shoto decided that he had exercised enough. He signed to Izuku. ‘Done practicing.’

Izuku flashed a grin before he twisted around so that his back was to Shoto. The human grabbed onto the mer’s shoulders, and made sure that his body was to one side of the sharp dorsal fin. When he was situated, Shoto squeezed Izuku’s shoulder’s. They were off like a shot.

Sand and water blurred together. Even with his goggles, Shoto had to partially hide his face against Izuku’s neck. The ocean floor fell away until he couldn’t see the bottom anymore. They were swimming in open water. This was how he imagined it felt to ride a motorcycle without a helmet, going dangerously over the speed limit. It was terrifying. It was thrilling. 

Izuku was still considered an adolescent, and the speed he swam at was nothing compared to how fast an adult in peak form could swim. His stomach flipped in anticipation, imaging the day that they could try that.

Izuku suddenly stopped, sending Shoto somersaulting over his head. The sound of Izuku’s giggles following him. When Shoto found his equilibrium again, he gave Izuku a playful shove. They grasped and wrestled under the water, but it was really no contest who won. 

Schools of fish moved around them and when Shoto needed a break, Izuku played chase with them, making the schools change directions. Their scales flashed prettily in the weak sunlight, but it was nothing compared to his best friend’s tail.

They played with fish for some time until Izuku got bored, and Shoto needed to get closer to the shore unless he wanted to freeze.

The closer they got to the caves, the choppier the surface of the water became. Dark clouds had rolled in, and the temperature of the water plummeted. The tides were getting harder to swim against, even with Izuku’s help, Shoto was getting too tired, too quickly. He needed to rest to regather his strength.

‘Let’s go to our place.’

Izuku had discovered the underwater caves a few miles off the coast when he was a child. It was a network of small passages and caves and very difficult to navigate without any light, or if you were much larger than an adolescent boy or mer. There was one cavern that had enough space to play. A crack in the ceiling allowed faint light in, and enough air that Shoto could spend his time there comfortably.

It had been Izuku’s own secret hideout, but once Shoto was let in on Izuku’s big secret, it seemed obvious to Izuku that Shoto also got let in on this secret too. It became their place. They kept the neat things they found in the ocean and on the beach here. They didn’t have room for all of their trinkets at home, and this way it felt like Ariel’s grotto in the Littlest Mermaid .

Shoto’s head broke the surface inside the largest cave. He took a deep breath and climbed onto the narrow shelf of rock that lay mostly out of the water. He all but collapsed on the stone and shivered.

“I’ll be fine. I just need a second.” He knew without looking that Izuku would have that worried wrinkle between his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have taken us so far out…”

“If I didn’t want to go I would have said something.” Shoto reassured him. “I’ll just rest here until the storm lightens up.

But the storm did not lighten up. The temperature continued to drop and the water in the cave continued to rise. Shoto climbed higher to another rock shelf, but there would be nowhere to go if the water continued to rise. Izuku said that the cave never completely filled with water that he knew about, but there was a first time for everything.

Izuku left to check on how bad the storm was on the outside, and if there was any way that they could navigate it together. The waterproof watch on Shoto’s wrist showed that it was already starting to get late. Inko and Toshinori would be back home by now expecting Izuku and Shoto to show up any minute.

The water continued to creep in on Shoto, until he was pressed against the cave wall, laying on his side so his body wouldn’t touch the water.

Izuku returned, laying his chin on his arms at the edge of the rock, careful not to slosh any water on the tiny dry section of rock.

“How’s it look?” Shoto asked but he already knew the answer by the look on Izuku’s face.

“It’s bad. I don’t think it’s going to let up anytime soon.” Izuku whispered.

“Think we could swim it anyway?”

Izuku shook his head. “All of the air pockets are full. There’s no way you could safely hold your breath for that long.”

Shoto wanted to argue, but Izuku knew Shoto’s lung capacity better than he did at this point in their lives.

“I’m sorry.” Izuku started to apologize again.

“Don’t.”

Izuku whined but didn’t argue. 

“I’ll just take a nap. Then the storm will ease up and we’ll swim home.” Shoto stated. It was the only option they had after all.

Shoto had just closed his eyes when he heard movement in the water, he cracked open his good eye and watched as Izuku hauled himself out of the water.

“Share body heat. You haven’t stopped shivering.”

“There’s no point in you drying out, then we’ll both be miserable.”

Izuku never got too hot or too cold in the water. Though Izuku theorized if he were to suddenly move and jump into the Arctic Ocean, he would probably be very uncomfortable until he acclimated to the water. Regardless, his home waters never made him uncomfortable. 

“I’ll keep my tail in the water.”

Shoto sighed, there was no point in stopping him when he got that determined look on his face. Izuku at least waited until his top half was dry before laying down and wrapping his arms around Shoto. Izuku gave off a faint warmth, nothing close to human warmth, but it was something. Most importantly, he created a buffer between the water and Shoto.

Shoto returned the embrace and let himself slip into sleep. It was just like the old times when they were children.

Shoto lay awake on the couch, studying his bandaged fingers in the dark. His knuckles still stung from the impact. 

“I hate him!” He snarled, Shoto could hear him from his mother’s room with the door shut.

“You don’t mean that, Touya,” Came Rei’s muffled reply.

“I do! I hate him so much. Why is he so special? Why was it when he got hurt that we suddenly got away from that piece of shit! Was I not important enough, did my suffering not matter!?”

There was the sound of something crashing and breaking. Shoto couldn’t help but flinch at the sound. Was Shoto really hated so much? Was he really just like his father like Touya said? His pinky finger throbbed in time with his heartbeat.

Two arms wrapped around Shoto’s neck and pulled him close, not minding the tears on his face getting his nightshirt damp. Light from a nearby street lamp slipped through the curtains, and fell across the two boys that were supposed to be asleep already. 

Izuku took Shoto’s hand and wrote on his palm with his finger. ‘I’m here.”

Shoto hiccuped and pressed his face further in the crook of his best friend’s neck, wrapping his arms tightly around his middle. Izuku ghosted his fingertip across Shoto’s shoulder blade and wrote “I’m here” and “It’s okay” over and over.

 He didn’t regret what he had done. Shoto squeezed his small fist tighter, proud of the sting. If anyone ever tried to hurt Izuku then they would have to answer to Shoto.

Izuku was here for him. Izuku was always here for him.

…

Shoto woke up stiff and cramped. A rock was digging into his back, he was cold, and someone had their arms around him. He blinked several times in the gloom trying to see his surroundings, only to remember that he was in the underwater cave, and it had to be midnight by now. 

Izuku had been staring at the ceiling, but his eyes darted over to Shoto when he shifted to try and get more comfortable. Izuku’s eyes were the only light and color in the room. Shoto stared back at Izuku as he tried to put a name to a color. He settled on a shamrock green, if that shade could actually glow.

Shoto took Izuku’s arm and wrote across his skin. ‘ Remember when we used to stay awake and write on each other all night?’

‘I missed it.’ Izuku wrote on Shoto’s chest.

‘Me too.’

‘Why did we stop?’

‘Because I got too big to fit in your bed.’

‘Serves you right for getting like three growth spurts in one year.’

‘We’ll be too big for this cave soon.’ Shoto let his finger drag. It was another thing he had to let go of as he got older. Playing heroes, sleeping in the same bed, and soon the cave, that’s if they didn’t get grounded for life for scaring their parents to death.

In a few weeks time they would be going to a new school, possibly in a completely new city. Shoto would be saying goodbye to more familiar sites and faces. He never considered himself too attached to the town they lived in, except for the beach, but faced with the thought of leaving it all, even if it wasn’t permanent, sure felt like it. He was surprised how much he would miss the place when he left.

If he left. He wasn’t even sure if he had gotten into the high school he applied for. He figured that he would, but that wasn’t the same thing as knowing. It wouldn’t matter if he got in and his mother said no. He might not have gotten the scholarships that he had applied for. His mother might not want him so far from home. 

What if Izuku got in and went ahead without Shoto. That thought completely knocked the breath out of him. He didn’t want to consider it, much less imagine the possibility.

‘I’m scared.’ Izuku wrote.

"Of what?’

‘Growing up.’

‘Me too.’

Shoto squeezed Izuku tighter to him, and his best friend held on just as tightly. They didn’t need words to know that both of them were thinking the same thing. It was almost like they could reach each other’s thoughts in the dark.

‘What if it doesn’t work out?”

‘It will.’

‘How can you know for certain?’

Shoto swallowed. He didn’t know.

‘I guess people would call it having faith.’

Izuku sniffled.

Shoto tucked his head under his chin and wrote the comforting words that Izuku had wrote on his back so long ago.

‘We’re gonna be best friends forever, right?’ Izuku asked.

‘Forever.’

Shoto vowed to himself that nothing would ever keep him away from Izuku forever, except if that’s what his friend decided. No mountain, no ocean. Wherever Izuku went, Shoto was sure to follow. 

…

As soon as the water began to recede from the storm, Izuku slipped away to keep watch over the tunnels. As soon as there were enough air pockets they would make their way back to shore.

Shoto was left completely in the dark. He wasn’t sure if he was awake or asleep. He was too cold and too tired to care. A small part of his brain told him that should alarm him, but he didn’t have the energy to spare.

Izuku did most of the swimming for him, though Shoto tried to help by stiffly kicking his legs. He blinked and they were by the beach again. He saw beams of light scanning the sand and the water.

“Shoto, I’m going to bring you in as close as I can, but can you swim the rest of the way?”

“Yeah,” He mumbled.

When they were close enough that Izuku might get caught, the mer flipped Shoto on his back so that he would float and gave him a shove towards the shore. 

“Izuku! Shoto!”

“Shoto!”

“Izuku!”

One of the voices calling his name sounded like his mother’s. All he needed to do was open his eyes to check.

“Found him!”

There was the sound of someone wading into the water.

“Fuck, this is cold. Natsuo get the towels! I swear to God, Shoto, if you make me have to swim after you, I’m going to drown you.”

There was more splashing and a hand grabbed him by the arm and pulled him along. 

“Shit, you’re freezing.”

Shoto was being picked up, but he could barely feel it through the numbness.

There were more splashing sounds.

“Shoto! Is he-?” 

“Mother?” Shoto mumbled. She sounded like she was about to cry. He managed to crack one eye open, but he couldn’t see much except for a soaked t-shirt.

“I’m here. I’m here.” A towel was pressed to Shoto’s face and his hair. “Fuyumi’s got the car running. We need to get him to the hospital.”

There was a grunt and Shoto was jostled about.

“Hey, stay awake.”

“Touya?” Shoto tried to frown.

“Dabi.” He corrected.

“Stupid name.”

“Natuso, you carry this little shit.”

“No thanks, you look like you’ve got it covered and I want to stay dry.”

Shoto lost himself in the sound of his siblings bickering.

…

Shoto wasn’t really surprised to have gotten a severe case of dehydration and hypothermia and had to be hospitalized for a couple of days. 

His mother stayed with him the whole time. Fuyumi would bring their mother a change of clothes or a home cooked meal. She would bring Shoto a sharp look and a frown. He knew most of his family was glad that he was okay, but he had worried them to death that night, showing up on the beach, nearly a corpse. A sharp look was deserved.

His mother didn’t have to raise her voice, the worried lines around her mouth and her tear filled eyes were enough to chastise him. She had grounded him from going over to Izuku’s until further notice. She didn’t blame Inko or Toshinori at all, it was strictly a punishment meant for the boys. Shoto couldn’t go to the beach without his sibling’s supervision until his mother gave him the say so. All in all, his punishment could have been much, much worse.

He was glad the Izuku was okay, not that he had any reason to get sick. He hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to him to find out what kind of trouble that he had gotten into. Inko could be pretty firm on her punishments. 

There was a soft knock at the door.

“Come in.” Rei said softly.

Izuku opened the door, flanked by his parents. He only made it a step into the door before he was bowing deeply in front of Rei, his fingers flying in apologies.

“Izuku says he’s very sorry to have caused your family and Shoto any harm.” Inko translated.

Rei put a hand on Izuku’s bowed head, “It’s alright, I know you didn’t mean for any harm to happen. But what you both did was very reckless. Swimming in the ocean in March during a storm? Not letting someone know where you were? You worried us all sick. Something could have happened to you both and we might have never known. Your lives are so precious to us.”

Izuku sniffled and bowed again. When he straightened from his bow, his cheeks were wet.

Toshinori cleared his throat, “I believe you have something to give young Shoto?”

Izuku nodded frantically and reached into his bag pulling out a folder.

‘Homework?’ Shoto signed.

Izuku nodded but held up a finger. He dug through his bag some more and pulled out a couple of envelopes.

‘Our acceptance letters arrived today.’

Izuku’s fingers shook when he handed them over to Shoto. He flipped through the pile looking for U.A. and ripped it open. He quickly scanned over the contents.

‘Did you get in?’ Izuku asked.

‘Did you?’ Shoto asked right back.

Izuku nodded. Shoto passed the letter over to him. Izuku gave him a wobbly smile.

‘You got in. But I’m afraid after the stunt that we just pulled, neither of our parents are going to let us go off to Tokyo alone or together.’

‘We don’t know until we ask.’

“Mother?”

All the parents shifted to look at Shoto while Izuku frantically signed how this was a bad idea and there were better times for this. But for Shoto there was no time like the present. 

“I got accepted into U.A. Academy.”

“Congratulations.” He could tell his mother didn’t know anything about the school, which to be fair, he hadn’t said anything when he applied. The only person who knew was Natsuo and that’s because they shared a desk and some of their papers would overlap.

“It’s a school in Tokyo. I want to go.”

He could see the hesitancy already building. He knew it was rude, but when she started to speak her objections, he cut her off.

“I applied for scholarships and got them. I got one for academics and another for the swim team. It covers almost all the cost of school. I didn’t say anything about this sooner but we wanted to make sure that we both got in.” Shoto glanced over to Izuku, “We know Tokyo is expensive, but it’s a really good school. We thought that we could go together and share the rent of an apartment. We’d be able to look after each other.”

“Young Shoto, you’re in a hospital bed right now.” Toshinori pointed out.

He nodded, “It’s not my best timed argument.”

His mother sighed and she rubbed her temple.

“We’ve got a budget and everything planned out. We’ll come home on every holiday. We’ll call every night if we have to.”

Shoto stopped himself before he sounded too desperate. If they wouldn’t let them go, then Shoto would have to convince them.

“Fine.” Rei said softly, “Fine. If Izuku’s parents are fine with it, I’m fine with it.”

Toshinori and Inko shared a long, weighed look. Inko pressed her lips into a thin line, she was going to say no. She looked at Izuku, then at Shoto, and finally to her husband. Something in his face made hers soften.

“Okay.”

Shoto blinked slowly. He expected more of a fight. Izuku collapsed on the bed at Shoto’s side, equally as in shock.

“But,” Inko held up a finger, “There will be rules. And you both are still grounded. This doesn’t change anything. And if you step one toe out of line, I will reconsider.”

“It’s really okay?” Shoto asked. He still couldn’t believe it.

“It’s impossible to keep you boys apart.” Toshinori said as he put a comforting arm around his wife. Shoto would never be able to decide if he said it like it was a good thing or like it was a bad thing.

Chapter Text

It took Shoto the last days of middle school and the few precious days before starting high school to recover.Their mothers were true to their word, neither boy got to visit the other, but that didn’t stop them from texting. Even through words on a screen, Shoto could pick up on Izuku’s mood. Each word dripping with guilt, Izuku was miserable over putting Shoto in the hospital, no matter how many times Shoto said that Izuku wasn’t to blame for it. He had agreed to go on his own free will. 

Maybe it was a good thing that he didn’t get to see Izuku during their short break, Shoto reluctantly decided. Shoto couldn’t help but imagine the look on Izuku’s face, the tears in his eyes because of him. The real thing would be so much worse. 

Setting his phone to the side, he continued to sort through Natsuo’s old clothes. Miraculously, sometime during his hospital visit, Shoto had hit another growth spurt. Few of his old things fit him anymore except for what was intentionally bought too big. 

Things had always been tight with money. Natuso was saving for his university expenses and couldn’t help much. It had gotten a little better lately with his sister’s added income as a teacher, but Shoto hated to ask anything of her. Touya might throw some money down on the table when he came by, but it was always sporadic.

Shoto had barely seen his eldest brother since the night that Touya had pulled him out of the water. Even then, Shoto wasn’t one hundred percent certain that it had been him. Touya hated him, so why would he rescue him? He hadn’t even come by to see Shoto at the hospital. It didn’t make sense. 

He put the last t-shirt in the box that he would be taking with him when he moved. The box joined his growing pile of stuff in the corner. He thought that he wouldn’t have much to take with him, but seeing it all there, made him realize how much he had. There were still things that he needed to get. 

Shoto chalked the memory of Touya rescuing him up to delirium. His eldest brother hasn’t been home, probably staying away because Shoto had no choice but to stay at home. Whatever, he wouldn’t question it. He had other things to worry about, like whether he should see about a moving company to send all of his things ahead to Tokyo and whether his family could afford it. At least, he didn’t have to sleep on the couch.

“Shoto, time for breakfast!” Fuyumi called. 

Shoto dragged his feet to the kitchen where he pulled the extra apron off of a peg. He missed the days when his sister called him for meals and there was actually food on the table. Instead, his mother and sister had thought it would be a good idea to teach him the basics in the kitchen before he left, lest he end up spending too much money at a convenience store or on takeout. 

So far, he could follow the directions on the box to make a decent, but too thick curry. No one commented on how some of his vegetable chunks were too big for one bite. He could cook eggs pretty well. Only one out of five wound up too burnt to eat. He could, of course, boil noodles for soba and buy the sauce for that. 

When he used the rice cooker, his rice always came out… odd. No one knew how he did it, and no one could put a finger on exactly what was wrong with it. It was technically edible, but it felt like a cursed thing. Somehow his rice was both soft and hard? Fuyumi spared the household meals by making rice. They all secretly hoped that Izuku could make rice. At least then, they wouldn’t starve.

Shoto rolled the eggs, adding a generous amount of cheese and vegetables that Fuyumi had kindly cut ahead of time for him. His sister worked next to him finishing up the miso soup and the rice cooker chimed that the rice was ready. 

Together they set the table and plated everyone’s food. Natsuo stumbled in, his eyes barely open. Their mother followed, dressed for work and ready to leave after breakfast was over. It was important to Rei that her family have meals together whenever possible. Everyone was always so busy that it was sometimes the only time they could see each other. 

“Your omelets are halfway decent this morning, little brother.” Natsuo popped a bit into his mouth.

“If you can do better, you should make breakfast.”

Natsuo, contrary to what he wanted everyone to think, was an excellent cook. He was busy with school and he liked to keep the fact that he could cook a secret from all of his friends, so they didn’t bother him for free meals.  It had been literal years since Shoto remembered eating anything his brother had made. 

“No can do. You’re the one who needs cooking lessons before you move off to Tokyo.”

“I wish we had longer to teach him how to cook. I think at the end of the month, he'd be able to make eggs without burning them at all.” Fuyumi  added, teasing, “As long as he doesn’t zone out.”

“Didn’t we time it once, ‘Yumi? It was almost two hours one time. I swear he barely blinked.”

Shoto stuffed a big bite of food into his mouth and concentrated on chewing. Was it a crime to tune out once and awhile?

“Don’t tease your brother too much. He might not come back home for vacations.” Rei said.

…

Their break passed in a flash, and before they knew it they were unpacking their boxes in their new apartment. It’s a tiny thing, even smaller than the apartment Shoto and his family had first moved into when Rei left Enji. It had one main room that served as the living space and bedroom with a small kitchenette along the back wall. The bathroom had a huge bathtub. 

Izuku ignored putting away his clothes in favor of decorated the walls with posters of his favorite shows and movies. He’d brought two big boxes full of his favorite DVDs, even though they didn’t have a television, only a small laptop that they shared. To have more space, they both would sleep on futons that could be put away in the clothes closet during the day. Shoto bought a small floor desk they could share and stacked his books neatly in the corner out of the way. 

There was one large window that Izuku decorated with rocks and shells from his collection. Both of them put their family portraits on the window ledge. 

Shoto studied the space. He kept half expecting one of his siblings to walk in at any moment. It hadn’t really set in yet, that this was home, at least for the year, and probably  would be until they finished high school. By then it would no doubt feel too crowded and cramped, but right now it felt like a cavern. It felt like possibilities, and that scared him for more than he realized.

Izuku clapped his hands to get Shoto’s attention.

‘Dad snuck in a small portable radio in my stuff.’

Izuku plugged it into one of their precious few outlets. Static filled the room. He turned the knob, adjusting the signal, but it continued to crackle and pop.

‘Maybe it’s busted. It is pretty old.’

Shoto took it from him and fiddled with the device while Izuku returned to his boxes. His hands occasionally flew up in surprise when he found another thing his parents snuck into his stuff. It was cute.

After setting the radio on a stack of books and some very careful tuning, Shoto managed to get one radio station to come in with some clarity. It was a station that played oldies music. The familiar whistling from Ue o Muite Arukou filled the room. Shoto never understood how a sad song could sound so happy.

Izuku looked over his shoulder and grinned. He whistled along as he turned his attention back to unpacking. Shoto softly joined in, drifting over to the kitchen to heat up one of the meals that their families had prepped for them. If they stretched it, the food could last them about two weeks before they actually had to cook and buy groceries for themselves.

Shoto hummed to other songs that came on the radio, slowly heating up the food, and watching the last golden light of summer flood their apartment. 

Neither of them had enough energy to stay awake once the sun went down after a long day of moving and unpacking. Besides, school started tomorrow, and they needed to get an early start. They unrolled their futons, keeping some distance between them, but not enough that Shoto couldn’t reach across and hold Izuku’s hand if he wanted to. He didn’t, but he thought about it. 

Izuku reached over and grabbed Shoto’s hand.

‘I’m glad that you’re here with me. Goodnight, Shocchan.’

He squeezed his hand and let go.

“Night, ‘Zuku.” Shoto whispered.

The radio softly played in the background.

…

Tokyo was much more crowded than he expected, and Shoto felt a little silly thinking that, because of course Tokyo was massive. Everyone knew this, but walking on the crowded streets, getting into packed train cars, people bumping into him on his left side, put him on edge. A couple of times the boys were separated from each other. Shoto wasn’t panicking, because he didn’t panic, but his chest felt tight and his ears rang as he strained to listen for the familiar sound of seashells over the noise.

Izuku found him again, approaching on his right and crossing over to his left. Shoto brushed his fingers against the back of Izuku’s hand, and was surprised to find it trembling. Izuku pressed forward with his brave, wobbly smile and pulled Shoto along by his sleeve. He had his phone out, nose practically touching the screen, as he mumbled words silently to himself. Shoto made sure Izuku didn’t trip or bump into anyone. He ached to hold Izuku’s hand. He curled his fingers into a fist.

Despite the delays from the crowds and one wrong turn, they made it to U.A. without any trouble. The main building was so large that it blocked out the morning sun, and there were still more buildings besides.

Shoto procured a copy of their schedules and maps of the place, along with another folder stuffed full of orientation things. Tension lifted from his shoulder, and he felt himself smile for the first time all morning. Izuku and Shoto had been put into the same homeroom class together. Whatever school might throw at him, he would be alright with Izuku near him. Izuku’s eyes lit up and he grinned so big that it swallowed his face.

Shoto led Izuku around by the shoulder as he dove into the folder, looking through the contents. 

“You could at least wait until we get to homeroom.” Shoto chided as he navigated Izuku through a particularly tight space.

Izuku whirled around and excitedly shoved a flier into his face. Shoto squinted and leaned back to read it, but Izuku was too excited and yanked it away before he even had a chance to.

‘There are all kinds of clubs! There is a swim club and a martial arts club, and they both have tryouts at the end of the week!’

Shoto smiled, a little exasperated. He leaned over and grabbed Izuku’s folder, holding it over their heads. “Walk, Izuku. I’ll give it back to you when we get to class. If we get to class at this rate.”

Izuku made a jump for it and missed. It was enough to motivate Izuku to get moving though. Shoto hoped that he would always have the upper hand when it came to height.

The door to class 1-A was ridiculously big, to match the ridiculously big halls, and the ridiculously tall ceilings. Shoto had to wonder who the space was designed for. Giants? 

As soon as Izuku opened the door, he whirled around to snatch the folder back. Shoto rose to his toes to keep Izuku from it.

‘You said when we get to homeroom I could have it back!’

“I changed my mind. I’ll give it back to you when you get to your desk. Otherwise, you’ll block the door.”

Izuku gave him a halfhearted glare, but didn’t protest. He turned back around to scan the board that had their seating assignments.

“I would ask you to please take your feet off the desk immediately! It disrespects U.A., our teachers, and our fellow students!” A student yelled at another student.

Izuku froze so suddenly that Shoto accidentally bumped into him. He was staring directly at the student who had his feet on the desk. 

“You don’t tell me what to do, Four-eyes! I’ll put my feet wherever I want!” Red eyes cut from the student in front of him over to Izuku. His eyes narrowed into slits, “ Deku.”

Shoto narrowed his own eyes into daggers at the guy. He knew who he was even though he hadn’t met him personally. Bakugo Katsuki, Izuku’s childhood friend turned bully. He was the one responsible for the bruises and red hand marks that Izuku would wear. He was responsible for Izuku’s tears. 

Izuku’s fingers stumbled over his greeting. ‘Hello, Kacchan. I didn’t know that you were going to U.A. too. Long time, no see?’

“Stop mumbling, shitty nerd. It’s annoying, and don’t call me that.”

Shoto took a step forward to put himself between Izuku and Bakugo. He hadn’t done this in years, but his body fell back into a familiar defensive stance; one that could move into offense. Some things would never leave his body, Shoto figured. Maybe he was his father’s son. 

“Who are you?” Bakugo sneered.

Before Shoto could decide whether to answer with his fists or his words, Izuku stepped out from behind him. 

‘Shocchan,’ Izuku gently, but firmly warned. Shoto looked into Izuku’s eyes and saw that he wasn’t afraid. If anything he stood straighter and his eyes blazed with a focused determination. Bakugo might have been his bully once, but not anymore. Izuku, had himself, saw to that the day he asked Shoto to teach him how to throw a punch. The memory of it still made Shoto sick to his stomach that Bakugo had pushed gentle, sweet Izuku to that measure. 

It had been a long, long time since Izuku needed anyone to defend him.

Shoto sighed and took a step back. Izuku’s eyes softened for a split second before he turned his attention back to Bakugo.

The blond wrinkled his nose, “ Shocchan?”

‘Todoroki Shoto. He’s my best friend.’ Shoto knew that he was Izuku’s best friend, but he had never been introduced as such. It had never been necessary. It felt like a triumph, especially with the way Bakugo’s expression soured further. 

 ‘It’s sad to see that you haven’t changed much since we last talked, Bakugo. If you want to make friends, it would be best if you changed your attitude. Here’s to us having a productive school year.’ Izuku gave him a polite, blank smile that was scarier than any expression that Shoto had seen on Izuku’s face. It was clear that Bakugo had been dismissed. 

Bakugo sputtered in rage, but Izuku paid him no mind, even when it turned out his seat was right behind Bakugo’s. He calmly sat down and held out his hand expectantly. 

Shoto made eye contact with a half-asleep, purple haired teenager that sat behind Izuku. “Keep him out of trouble, please?”

The guy looked from Shoto to Izuku. He reminded Shoto of a cat, the way he blinked slowly and moved languidly. He didn’t say anything, but Shoto got the feeling that he would look after Izuku. Shoto placed the folder in Izuku’s hand, gave him a warning look, and went to go find his seat. 

He sat all the way in the back of the room directly in the middle. There was nothing special about the seat, unlike Izuku who had gotten a window seat. He was grateful that from this vantage point he could keep an eye on his best friend. 

A cute, bubbly brunette approached Izuku, “Hi, my name’s Uraraka Ochako! I saw that you can use sign language, that’s so cool!”

“Indeed, to be able to get into U.A, despite your limitations, is quite a feat indeed.” The glasses guy from earlier joined them, “My name is Iida Tenya!”

“Just because he can’t speak, doesn’t mean he’s stupid.” The purple haired student yawned. 

Iida chopped his hand rapidly, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply by any means that you were not capable of anything! I thought it is commendable to get into a high ranking institution when there must’ve been many obstacles in your way! I’ll just stop talking now!”

Izuku waved his hands. He was smiling as he signed that he hadn’t taken any offense, but it was clear from their blank looks that they didn’t know what he had said. Unbothered, Izuku pulled out his phone and typed up a reply.

Shoto felt himself relax. Izuku wasn’t going to have any problem making any friends here, not that Shoto thought he would, but it was nice to have his suspicions confirmed. 

“So, you know sign language too?” The girl sitting next to him asked. She had her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. “That’s impressive. Did you learn it so you could communicate with your friend?”

“Yeah,” Shoto answered as he took out his books. 

“Impressive.” She said again.

Shoto shrugged. It wasn’t impressive to do what was decent. He never liked being praised for doing things that should be done.

“I’m Yaoyorozu Momo.”

“Todoroki Shoto.”

Any further conversation was cut off by an exhausted man walking into the classroom.

“I’m your homeroom teacher Aizawa Shota. Let’s get this over with.”

…

They were both in a daze as they sat on the roof with their lunches in their laps.

‘We could have all been expelled.’ Izuku faintly signed. Shoto could practically see the spirit still trying to leave his body. He hadn’t known who was more terrified of Izuku being expelled, him, or Izuku. 

“A rational deception?  What does that even mean? What kind of school did you sign us up for?”

‘Me? You wanted to come here as much as I did.’

“Hey, can we join you guys for lunch?” Uraraka waved at them. Behind her were Iida and the purple haired guy.

Izuku looked at Shoto to see what he thought. His face was eager, but he still considered Shoto’s comfort. It felt good.

‘Whatever you want, ‘Zuku.’

Izuku beamed and gave Uraraka a double thumbs up. 

“You know sign language, too!” She plopped down next to Izuku.

Shoto nodded, wondering how long people were going to point out the obvious. 

“Can you teach us?” she asked.

“I’m not a very good teacher. I’m sure there are classes online or youtube videos.” He focused his attention on his lunch.

Izuku nodded rapidly. ‘I can teach you! Shoto can you translate for me? I don’t want to drag out my phone right now.’

‘You should only show her a couple of words at a time. Don’t overwhelm her because you’re excited.’

Izuku grinned sheepishly.

“How about ‘hello’ ‘goodbye’ ‘please’ and ‘thank you?’’

‘But those are so basic.’ Izuku lamented.

Shoto gave him a ‘ that’s the point’ look.

Izuku swiped a piece of egg from his bento.

“You both sign so fast!” Iida commented. 

“Years of practice,” Shoto continued to glare at Izuku eating his lunch.

Izuku shaped his hands into a heart. 

“No, you don’t.”

Ochako giggled.

“Izuku said he would be happy to teach you sign language. But only the basics today.” Shoto eyed Izuku’s bento box, planning on what to steal during his lesson. 

Shoto translated while Izuku showed them the signs, going very slow like he would go for a baby. Ochako and Iida mimicked him, and even the purple haired guy was watching carefully. It was kind of funny to watch how stiff they moved. Shoto wondered when his clumsiness had fallen away.

‘Izuku, what’s the purple haired kid’s name?’

‘Shinso Hitoshi.’

“I’m sorry Midoriya, but you signed so fast I didn’t catch it.” Iida was looking rapidly back and forth between his hands and Izuku’s. “What was that sign?”

“I asked Izuku a question. He was answering me. Sorry.”

Shoto tried to swipe some rice from Izuku while he was in the middle of signing ‘goodbye’ but his reflexes were too good. He pushed the box out of Shoto’s reach and flashed him a smile as he wagged his finger at him, seashells chiming.

“Oh that’s so cute!” Uraraka grabbed Izuku’s wrist and twisted it back and forth to get a good look at the bracelet. “It’s like the kind you get at the beach as a souvenir!”

Izuku’s face combusted into a bright pink. He had only one hand to sign, but Shoto got the gist of what he wanted to say.

“He made it himself.”

“Really?! Can you make me one too! It’s so cute, and then we can be matching!” Izuku looked like he might pass out in the face of Uraraka’s excitement. 

“No, he can’t.” Shoto said. He stared down at his lunch without even looking to see what Izuku was trying to sign. 

He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, but he resolutely took a bite of his lunch and didn’t look up. He heard Izuku typing on his phone.

“I guess that makes sense, you can’t really make a bracelet without seashells, and you can’t have seashells without a beach. Oh! Oh! When we become better friends, let's all go to the beach!” Ochako said.

“We’re still strangers.” Iida said.

“That’s why I said when we get to know each other better!”

“Statistically, the first friends that we make on the first day, aren’t going to be our friends throughout the whole time we’re in school.”

“I know, but I have a good feeling about this group!”

There was more typing, and Uraraka laughed. When Shoto dared to look up again, her cheeks were flushed pink. Izuku had his eyes closed and was bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. Shoto hated the answering blush on Izuku’s cheeks.

He caught Shinso watching him and he looked back down at his food, but he didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. 

…

Shoto walked behind Izuku, as he walked ahead with Uraraka and Iida. He alternated between reading statistics about school friendships, and watching a friendship grow in front of him.

“I see why you asked me to look after him.”

Shoto grimaced and turned his body to the left to see who had addressed him.

“I mean, who almost flunks out on their first day of school because of nerves. I swear, I thought he was going to puke when Aizawa-sensei announced the results and he came in dead last.” Shinso continued.

“You seemed pretty calm during the whole thing.” Shoto commented.

“So did you.”

He shrugged.

“Name’s Shinso Hitoshi”

“I know.” Shoto said, “Todoroki Shoto.”

“Catch you later.” Shinso peeled away in the direction that Shoto had seen their teacher go. He wondered about that, but he could find out the answers another time.

Shoto heard a sharp whistle and looked up before Izuku started to clap to get his attention. The trio was waiting for him by the gates.

‘Hurry up, Shocchan!” Izuku held out his hand waiting.

Shoto sighed and smiled. Hurrying up his pace to meet his best friend.

…

When they got back home, before Shoto could get his shoes off, Izuku pulled him into a tight hug. 

“What’s this for?”

Izuku squeezed him tighter, which was Izuku speak for I’ll keep squeezing until you hug me back.

Shoto rested his chin on his shoulder, which was kind of hard to do when Izuku was several inches shorter.

Izuku wrote slowly on his back. You looked like you needed one.

Shoto returned the hug, squeezing just as tight. He did need this. When his head was swimming with statistics on how his friendship with Izuku would fall apart and they would gradually drift away from each other. When Izuku already had two, if not three, new people that could replace him in an instant.

Izuku took a step back and studied Shoto’s expression with a frown. He grabbed Shoto’s face and squished his cheeks. Before he could ask what he was doing, Izuku pulled Shoto’s face down to his level and bonked their foreheads together painfully.

“Ow.” He hissed.

‘That’s for thinking thoughts that make you sad.’

Shoto rubbed his forehead, wanting to deny the accusation.

‘You’ll always be my best friend.’

“I didn’t think I was being that transparent.” Shoto mumbled.

‘It was pretty obvious.’ Izuku shook his bracelet and grinned. ‘I want us all to be friends.’

Izuku’s smile dropped when Shoto didn’t return it.

‘I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it. You’ll always be my best friend. You know that right?’

Izuku poked Shoto’s cheek. ‘Right?’

Shoto sighed and nodded. Finally, working up a smile.

He knew what people saw when they realized Izuku was mute and that Shoto knew sign language. He knew that people thought that Izuku depended on Shoto, but they were so wrong. It was the other way around. Shoto would always need Izuku. Need his friendship. Need his smiles. He needed them like oxygen to drowning lungs. 

…

Luckily, or unluckily, considering what one thought about school, Shoto and Izuku were busy. U.A. wasn’t hard to get into for nothing. They set the entrance exam high, because they set their classes even higher. Aizawa-sensei was the most exacting teacher that they had ever had and their other classes and courses were just as difficult.

For the first semester, everyone was treading to keep their head above water in their school work. It was exhausting, and almost everything they could do to stay on top of the assignments. Even Iida, Yaoyorozu, and Bakugo, who kept rigorous study routines and schedules were put to the limit. Shoto considered himself to be smart, but even he could sympathize with Izuku’s stress crying in the middle of the night before an exam. 

On top of their academic responsibilities, Shoto had joined the swim club, and Izuku had joined the martial arts club. Both teams had strict rules that first years weren’t allowed to compete until their last semester, to give them time to adjust to school life, but just because they weren’t competing didn’t mean that their practices were any easier. More often than not, both boys fell asleep utterly exhausted, but determined to do better than they had the day before. 

Then all at once it was summer break. 

…

It felt odd to be bringing a packed bag to his family home. Well, two stuffed duffle bags full of laundry and his backpack, but the majority of his things were left at their apartment in Tokyo. 

Shoto dropped his bags in his room after he greeted his mother. He gave her another quick hug as he walked back to the front door, beach bag already in hand, kicking off his slippers to replace with sandals.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His mother asked.

“To the beach.”

He and Izuku had talked about nothing but going to the beach first thing for the past week. They had both missed its familiar, rhythmic call. The taste of salt in the air and sand between their toes. The way the waves rocked them when they swam. Tokyo might have other things to dazzle the senses, but it could never compare to their beach. 

“I don’t think so. You’re still banned from going to the beach without your siblings, and Inko and I decided that you’re still not to go over to the Midoriya residence yet.”

“But that was months ago!”

“You almost died, Shoto!” He flinched at the sharp note in her voice. His mother was so soft spoken and gentle mannered that he had forgotten sometimes this was the woman who had the backbone to divorce Endeavor.

Silence hung thick between them. Even his mother looked taken aback by the force of her outburst, but she met his eyes unflinchingly.  “You’ll need more than a week’s punishment to earn back our trust.”

Shoto gripped his beach bag tighter, not sure what to do. It wasn’t fair, but it was. “What am I supposed to do all summer then?”

Rei and Shoto both knew that as much as his siblings loved him, they didn’t have the time between their own work schedules to take him to the beach often, if at all. 

“You’ll do homework, help Fuyumi and I around the house and with the cooking. I doubt that your cooking skills have improved much over the past couple of months.”

“What about my swim practice so I can keep my spot on the swim team?” Shoto hated that he sounded like he was begging. But he was.

Rei leaned against the wall and rubbed along her forehead. “I’m not trying to be cruel, Shoto. I care about you. I want you to be safe, and I don’t trust you to keep yourself safe.”

Shoto swallowed hard. He had only ever seen and heard her talk in this slow pained voice with Touya. What was worse, was he might have an inkling of empathy for his eldest brother. He didn’t think his brother wanted to cause their mother pain, but at the same time he wanted to insist that she was wrong, ignore her wishes and go anyway. What could she really do to stop him?

He exhaled slowly through his teeth. “What about a summer job?”

Rei shook her head. “Focus on your grades, and we can talk about it for next summer.”

“Fine.” He walked past her and back to his room. He had some time to rightfully sulk before Natuso would be back. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at the black screen. He wondered if Izuku was getting the same speech. At least, he would get to go to the beach often. 

He had all of his summer homework done within a week. When he wasn’t sighing into a text book or moodily looking at his phone, he was doing housework and cooking. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He almost locked the door every time Fuyumi or his mother called his name from the kitchen. It wasn’t that he didn’t hate cooking, but it felt like a punishment.

“It is a punishment.” Fuyumi said as she supervised from the kitchen table. “But it comes from a place of concern. We want you to be able to take care of yourself when we can’t be around to help you. Think of how many bachelors there are out there who live in filthy houses and spend all their money on eating out, because their family didn’t care enough to teach them how to be a proper adult.”

“Still a punishment.”

Fuyumi shrugged. “Mom could have taken away your phone.”

Shoto protectively put it into his pocket. There was a text from Izuku that he would have to answer once he was done with dishes. Inko had Izuku deep clean the house. From wiping down cobwebs in the corners of closets to toothbrush scrubbing on his hands and knees in the bathroom. 

The closest that he had gotten to the waves all month was when he walked home with Natsuo twice a week from the gym. Natsuo had taken pity and brought Shoto along with him so he wouldn’t be completely useless when he returned for second semester. 

It was Bakugo’s sneering face, who for some reason decided to be on the swim team too, that made him push himself for two hours straight in the pool. He would have gladly gone for three hours, but Natsuo only took an hour and a half at the most in the weightroom. 

“You remind me of Mom when you swim.” He said quietly. Shoto tore his eyes away from the beach in the distance to look at his brother. 

“Did you get to see her dive?”

Natuso tilted his head as he thought. “Maybe once or twice? Endeavor hardly allowed her to be around the water long enough to give us swim lessons. And the only reason he allowed that was for basic survival if something were to happen.”

Shoto didn’t bother to hide how jealous that made him. He understood that his siblings didn’t have the greatest life before he was born. They had all had their share of problems, but it felt unfair that they got more of their mother. They got to play with her before she was well and truly worn down. 

Something about Shoto’s birth had changed everything. There was a subtle shift, he could tell by the stories that his siblings had told him over the years, even if they hadn’t explicitly stated it. 

The earliest memories he had of his mother were mostly of her crying. All the vitality and happiness had been drained out of her. She was better after the divorce, though it took time for her to piece herself into the woman that she was today. Rei had taught him how to swim, but he couldn’t remember much when he thought back on that memory. White hair, arms around him that he knew wouldn’t drop him. It had to be a pivotal moment, afterall, swimming was so important to Shoto, but he was frustrated that he couldn’t remember it with the clarity that it deserved. He was jealous that he didn’t have more memories of his mother in the water, to see her swim freely, before… everything. His siblings got a solid memory of her like that. Shoto didn’t.

Natsuo ruffled his hair, “God, you’re such the baby.”

“I’m not a baby!” Shoto ducked away from him, batting his hand to the side.

“I didn’t say you were a baby. You’re the baby. The baby of the family, and jeez, don’t you act like it.”

“I don’t!”

“You’re so spoiled.”

“I’m not!”

“No wonder you and Izuku-kun get along so well. Him being the only son and you being the baby.”

Shoto jogged up ahead, so the few strangers out on the street wouldn’t associate him with Natsuo. His older brother chuckled and walked behind him at a leisurely pace. “You know, you don’t just look like Mom when you swim. You look like Touya too.”

Shoto practically sprinted to the house, working up enough of a sweat that he needed another shower. The cool water did nothing to dull the simmer underneath his skin. He’d rather be the baby forever than be anything like Touya ever. 

…

He sat next to Toshinori in the sand. Rei had bent the rules a little so that Shoto could go to the beach without his siblings as long as Toshinori or Inko were there to keep an eye on him.

“Where do you think they go?” Shoto asked, the surf washing over his feet.

“To see Inko’s family.”

“But where exactly is that?”

Toshinori shrugged. “That’s not really for us to know. Besides, I’m under the impression that they move around a lot.”

“Shouldn’t you know? They’re your family.”

“It’s not from lack of interest or concern, believe me. It’s just how it is, and I can’t do anything other than accept it.”

Shoto flopped back on the sand and sighed. It was rare that he was ever alone with Toshinori. It was the perfect opportunity for the two humans to talk about the ways of the mer. It’s not like Izuku wouldn’t answer Shoto’s questions. It’s more like he didn’t have many more answers than Shoto, spending most of his life on land and in human society. 

He thought that Toshinori would have some of the answers from Inko. He sighed.

“They’re not like us, young Shoto. I think that even though we know this truth, our hearts sometimes forget. There are things that we’re not to know because we can’t understand.” 

Shoto frowned. Toshinori smiled patiently at Shoto’s frustration. “We can’t know what it feels like to have water in our gills or to know instinctively where the migratory paths are. Some of its nature, I can tell you, and some of its magic to keep them safe. It’s not that Inko or Izuku won’t explain. They can’t explain. The only thing that we can do is wait for them to return.”

Toshinori gently touched the green bracelet on his wrist. He noticed Shoto tracking the movement. “It’s a wedding band of sorts. A mating token.”

“It looks like it’s the same color as her hair.”

“That’s because it is.” He grinned. 

Shoto didn’t know whether to be impressed or a little creeped out. It was a thick bracelet and he had worn it for as long as Shoto had known him.

“Do-” Shoto swallowed, already picturing a dark green bracelet of his own. “Do all mer do that with their hair?”

“I think that it varies from mer to mer or family to family. Everyone has their own tradition. The point of the token is that it’s something personal, something to show devotion. Inko knew from the very beginning how very fond of her hair I am.”

“So it doesn’t have to be hair…?”

“No, no. Afterall, there are plenty out there who don’t have hair long enough to make a bracelet. I think Inko mentioned once that she knew a bonded pair had matching earrings.”

“So if you have a bracelet of Inko’s hair,” Shoto said slowly, “does that mean she has a bracelet of your hair?”

“You’re really caught up on the hair thing, aren’t you kid? But to answer your question, no I gave her something else.”

“What did you give her?”

He winked. “It’s a secret until you get older.”

Shoto made a face.

“No! Not that.” Toshinori sputtered. His sputtering sent into a coughing fit. Shoto passed him a bottle of water, feeling slightly guilty. Their conversation lapsed for sometime as Toshinori recovered.

“This bracelet is special.” He wheezed after a time. “It lets Inko know where I am anytime I’m in the water. It can let me hold my breath longer than I could without it. Probably other magical things that I’m not aware of. I’m not really healthy enough to swim, so I haven’t tested all of what it can do.”

“When do you think they’ll be back?”

Toshinori chuckled. “Tired of my company already?”

…

Shoto hopped up to take his empty dishes to the sink. 

Rei watched him with a proud look on her face. He wasn’t sure why, he had always done dishes even before cooking lessons.

“I think it’s time.” She softly clapped her hands together.

“Time for what?” Natsuo said around a mouthful.

“I spoke to Inko on the phone last night, and we both agreed that it was time for your punishments to be over.”

Shoto carefully put down the glass that he had been holding, “I can go to the beach?”

“You can go to the beach.”

“But,” Fuyumi cut it when Shoto turned back to the dishes with a vengeance, “You have to pack your own lunch and return before dark to help me with dinner.”

Shoto sharply nodded. He yanked the plate out of Natsuo’s hand, food still between his brother’s chopsticks.

“Hey!”

“Too slow.”

Shoto had never done the dishes so quickly in his life. He was finished before his mother left.

“Thank you, Mother.”

Rei kissed his forehead. “Have a good day.”

Shoto watched her leave, before running back into the kitchen. He threw the door to the fridge open, his eyes scanning for the quickest and easiest thing to make. His mother had left her bento.

He grabbed it, he could have sworn he had seen it in her hand before she left. A note tucked in the furoshiki slipped out and fluttered to the floor.

Shoto bent over and picked it up.

You have to make all of your lunches after this one. Love, Mom.

He hugged the lunch to his chest, glad that no one was around to witness him getting emotional over a packed lunch. He was so loved, and he knew it.

…

The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon by the time his feet hit the sand. He sucked in sharp breath, after sharp breath into heaving lungs. He whipped his head back and forth searching for familiar curls. There were only a couple people on the beach, a few people walking, the usual fishermen. Shoto nodded in acknowledgment when he passed them.

He gripped the strap of his bag impatiently. If there were too many people, then they wouldn’t be able to go swimming together. 

His breath was knocked out of him and his sandal went flying as he was pitched forward in the sand. More air whuffed out of his lungs when his best friend landed on top of him in a tangle of limbs. Two freckled covered arms latched around his neck, and he did his best not to think about how they looked more defined than they had last time. Get it together, Shoto!

He hugged his best friend back, probably looking from an outsider’s perspective like a stiff robot. He was never very good at hugs, but he loved it when Izuku hugged him. His friend squeezed tighter. Shoto tapped lightly on his arm.

“Air.”

Izuku sprang back but hovered over him with a wide grin on his face. He didn’t need to say or sign anything. Shoto could tell how much Izuku had missed him and how happy he was. He was glad to see that there was no guilt left in Izuku’s face. 

Shoto’s eyes softened and reached up to tuck Izuku’s hair behind his ear. He froze, apparently all of his self control had vanished in the interim.

“You need a haircut.”

Izuku shook his head, freeing the hair that Shoto had just attempted to tame. He got to his feet and took off towards the water, already barefoot and his bag forgotten on the ground. Shoto barely saw him sign the word ‘late’.

Dutifully, Shoto grabbed his friend’s things and his own. “If we’re late, it’s your fault for being late! And you live closer to the beach than I do!”

The only answer that Shoto got in reply was a large splash as Izuku dove in.

Shoto didn’t have the patience to set out their stuff properly like he normally did. He tossed their stuff in a pile behind some rocks that mostly hid them from the shore.

There were only twenty days left of summer vacation. Their days would be measured by the hours in the sun, and they were already getting behind. Shoto waded into the water and dove in when the water hit his waist.

Shoto laid on his back floating, enjoying the first warm rays of the sun. The water was already warm. 

He was in such a hurry that he had forgotten to grab his goggles. He turned his head and blinked salt water out of his eyes. 

Izuku’s head bobbed in the water next to his shoulder. Shoto could feel the rest of his body just underneath his own, back to chest, legs to tail, skin and scales barely brushing. He vaguely wondered if two humans could swim this close without jostling each other.

“I’ll get my haircut before school.”

“Let’s not talk about school, not today. Let’s just be kids for one more day.”

Izuku hummed in reply. Shoto closed his eyes. He felt like he could drift away. Drift under the water. The sound cut off short and on a sharp note. Izuku’s hand between his shoulder blades startled him back into reality. He had been sinking. 

Looks like he wasn’t the only one who had forgotten some of his self control. Neither of them acknowledged the slip. It happened from time to time and they had been down this conversation before. 

Toshinori had trained Izuku’s voice from a young age, and one time he had let slip how Izuku’s voice was one of the prettiest things he had ever heard in his life. Toshinori, who’s voice had won awards. Shoto had wanted to hear Izuku’s singing voice ever since. 

The argument went more or less like this: anytime he had asked he was met with a soft, but very firm no. Izuku didn’t want to brainwash his friend, especially in the water where he could very well drown. Shoto replied that he knew that Izuku wouldn’t let him drown. Izuku was afraid that the effect on Shoto’s mind would never wear off. Shoto said that there were worse things in life. Izuku never did like that answer. Shoto would try to plead his case that Toshinori got to hear his voice and nothing bad ever happened to him. Izuku would answer that Toshinori couldn’t get enchanted by his voice. It had something to do with the fact that he had married his mother, and he didn’t know all the rules, ’ so, please don’t ask me, because I don’t know .’ 

When he was younger, Shoto had proposed that they get married so then Shoto could hear his voice like Toshinori could. For some reason, no matter how hard he tried to remember, he couldn’t think of what Izuku’s response had been. It didn’t matter. Shoto was too old now to play the marriage card, when they both knew what it entailed, unlike when they were still kids. 

Shoto opened his mouth to speak.

“ No, Shoto.” Over the years the no had gotten less soft, and more exasperated. 

“How do you even know that’s what I was going to say?”

“It’s always what you say.”

“Well, you’re wrong this time. I was going to say something else.”

Izuku’s expression clearly said that he didn’t believe him. “Oh, yeah?”

“I was going to say, you should grow your hair out. Don’t all mer have long hair.”

Shoto was promptly dunked, but he had held his breath in time, knowing what was coming. Izuku launched into a whole spiel about how impractical long hair was in the water and how he would have to tie it back, not to mention if it was untameable now on land, how much worse would the tangles be if he let it grow out longer.

Shoto smiled, he had missed hearing his best friend go on a rambling tangent.

“If you like long hair so much, you should grow yours out long!” Izuku huffed.

“Maybe I will.”

Chapter Text

Shoto had never considered himself to be the unfriendly sort. He had gotten along with kids in middle school just fine; Izuku had always been the closest. That was still the case, but he was surprised to find that the 1-A was growing on him. Shinso, Uraraka, and Iida continued to join them for lunch everyday. Asui, who insisted on being called Tsu, started to join them at Uraraka’s insistence a couple of times a week. Shoto had invited Yaoyorozu to eat with them sometimes.

They each brought something to their friend group. Yaoyorozu and Iida were the parents. They looked after all their friends, making sure that they ate and slept properly (or made the attempt to sleep in Shinso’s case). Tsu’s thoughtful honestly, that could be blunt at times, paired with Shinso’s dry, sarcastic humor, and his own observations kept everyone in check and in laughter. Izuku and Uraraka brought a lively sweetness to their conversations, their energy fed off of one another and could lead to devious chaos. 

Izuku and Uraraka seemed hand made for each other. Their personalities meshed well. They were constantly encouraging one another in schoolwork and life. It didn’t hurt that Uraraka was on the girls’ martial art team and they had that connection too. Even their looks complimented each other, with round faces and bright smiles. 

And Shoto was… well he was Izuku’s translator, and even then he could be replaced by a phone.

He tried not to be hurt by it. He really tried, and most of the time he could ignore it. Most of the time, he could even like Uraraka. She wasn’t a difficult person to like, but the way that Shoto caught Izuku staring at her sometimes, made him burn with resentment.

So he did what he did best when faced with uncomfortable emotions, he threw himself into swimming. 

“That was a close one,” Miro-senpai looked down at his stopwatch, “Bakugo won this time by .35 seconds.”

Aizawa-sensei, who was also the swim coach, was likely asleep in his office. He was content with letting the upperclassmen coach the underclassmen until it came closer to competition time.

Shoto resisted the urge to bare his teeth in frustration. The blond in the next lane over gave him a shit-eating grin. 

This was how most of their practices ended, one day Shoto was on top, the next day Bakugo was. It was the first time that Shoto had a worthy adversary when it came to swimming. He loved the challenge, but he wasn’t fond of losing. 

“Let’s go again.” Shoto said. He signed it at the same time to piss off Bakugo. He couldn’t wear his hearing aids when he swam, but he was good enough at reading lips to not need them. The only challenge he had was the start whistle, yet, he never had a false start. He was so good at reading the body language of those around him. It was honestly impressive. It made Bakugo that much more livid when Shoto signed to him instead.

“I love that spirit! But no can do, guys. Practice is over, and I have to go meet up with my boyfriend. If I’m even a minute late, he gets gloomy thinking that I’ve left him.” Miro-senpai grinned.

Bakugo pushed Shoto back into the pool as he was getting out of the water. “Winners get out first.”

Shoto would take those words to heart for the next three years.

By the time that Shoto got to the locker room, Bakugo was already halfway through changing. The martial arts practice time had overlapped with theirs, so most of their team were also using the changing rooms.

“Hey, Todo!!” Kirishima waved from his locker, flashing his teeth in a grin. 

Kirishima was in class 1-B and on the martial arts team with Izuku. He was a good guy, and while Shoto wasn’t around him much, he liked his energy. He was dependable and solid, like a rock.

“Midoribro left practice for the day– He’s okay, don’t get that worried look on your face. He only pulled a muscle this time. Ojiro-senpai sent him home early to put some heat and ice on it.”

Already, Izuku had garnered the reputation of the kid who would get hurt all the time. It wasn’t that he wasn’t good. He was great really, only Izuku could get a little reckless and push past his limits when he was focused on something. This semester, he had managed to dislocate his shoulder once, and broke a couple of toes. Shoto was pretty sure Izuku had hid a fracture in his right hand too.

“Thanks for letting me know, Kirishima. He probably texted me that he went home early.” He pulled his phone out of his locker and sure enough there were a couple missed texts from his roommate.

“It must be awesome being roommates with your best friend. No one to nag you to clean your room all the time.”

“I nag.” Shoto admitted, not that he was the cleanest person in the world, but at least he didn’t let it get as bad as Izuku.

“Aw, that’s no fun.” Kirishima laughed.

Shoto set to drying off his hair. Without a proper haircut in months, his hair was already getting down to his shoulders. Shinso had asked him how long he was planning to grow it out.

“Mermaid length.”

The reactions from the group were about what he expected. Izuku covered up his face in embarrassment. Momo promised to recommend some good shampoos and conditioners that encouraged hair growth, and bring him any hair ties he might need. Tsu offered to teach him how to braid it.

“I get it!” Uraraka giggled, “It’s because you’re a swimmer, right? It will match your aesthetic!”

“Todoroki, it is important that we follow the guidelines accepted in the dress code.” Iida chided.

“Is there anything about that in the dress code?” Shoto asked.

“We have to keep our persons neat and clean, and that extends to our hair.”

“But his hair is neat and clean!” Uraraka cut in, “It’s Midoriya-kun’s hair that we should worry about.”

Izuku turned a brighter shade of red and collapsed on his back.

“I’m sure that Todoroki can get away with long hair. He’s too pretty to follow the rules that the rest of us have to.” Shinso drawled. 

“Hey, Bakugo? Want to go to the barbecue place I was telling you about?” Kirishima’s voice brought him back into the present moment. 

Bakugo had his back to Kirishima and his hearing aids were still off.

“He’s not got them in,” Todoroki gestured to his ears. Since he was closer, Todoroki leaned over and gently tapped Bakugo’s arm. 

Bakugo gave him a glaring side eye.

‘Kirishima asked you a question.’

Bakugo smacked his hands away.

“I don’t know what he sees in you.” Todoroki muttered under his breath to where Kirishima wouldn’t hear. He really didn’t understand Kirishima’s and Bakugo’s friendships. Kirishima reminded Shoto of Izuku, so if anything, Bakugo should dislike Kirishima;  instead the two got along like houses on fire.

“I can read lips.” Bakugo snarled.

‘I’m aware.’

Bakugo flashed him a rude gesture, before turning his attention to Kirishima.

“What did you want, Shitty hair?” 

Izuku had told Shoto that Bakugo had learned sign language with Izuku, but when his own hearing started to go at an early age, sign language only infuriated Bakugo. He didn’t want to have to rely on sign language to understand and be understood. He didn’t want to be like Deku . That’s when their friendship started to go sour.

Even though most of his hearing was gone by the time he got to middle school, Bakguo practiced relentlessly, while he remembered how his voice sounded, to make sure he didn’t sound like a deaf person. If his enunciation was less than perfect, it was only because he wanted it to be.

“Do you want to go to the barbecue place I told you about?”

“Fine.” Bakugo snapped. He grabbed his hearing aids and his bag. “Let’s go.”

…

Shoto knocked on the doorframe as he let himself in. “I brought dinner.”

He picked up a couple quick convenience store meals, it wasn’t often that they indulged in the habit. He would make sure Izuku rested. Shoto would join him, he had pushed himself a little too hard in the pool today, leaving him feeling waterlogged.

“‘Zuku?” 

He set his stuff down and wandered over towards the bathroom where he could hear splashing coming from behind the door. That should help Izuku recover. Shoto had just started to unpack their dinner when faint humming made it to his ears.

His whole body relaxed like it was him who had dipped into a warm bath. All he wanted to do was let go of everything. Stress. Jealousy. Love. While the first note hung in the air, Shoto gave in.

He came to on the bathroom floor. His head throbbed and he was damp all over.

“Shoto!” Izuku sobbed. He was straddling Shoto, still wet from the bath. Izuku was gripping him so hard by the shoulders that his nails had pierced through Shoto’s shirt and into his skin. “Come back!”

“Did I go somewhere?” Shoto mumbled. His voice sounded far away. The humming still rang in his ears, already fading. The song, if there had been one, was already gone. He couldn’t remember how it sounded. He wanted to cry from the absence that it left behind.

Big tear drops landed on Shoto’s cheeks. Not his.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Izuku had tears and snot all over his face. He was somewhere between human and mer, but quickly shifting back to human. The scales that remained in splotches all over his body looked dull and dry.

“I’m sorry, Shoto.” Izuku repeated. His voice sounded hoarse and strained, like he was forcing it.

“Shhh.” Shoto didn’t know if it was the right thing to say, to quiet Izuku when he wanted to speak. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Izuku shook his head, but when he tried to say Shoto’s name again, it came out as nothing more than a wheezy croak.

Shoto slowly sat up and pulled Izuku to his chest. He tried to resist for a moment, shaking his head, before he collapsed into silent sobs. Shoto rocked him gently, rubbing his back in a daze. It didn’t take a genius to piece together what had happened. Izuku had accidentally put Shoto under a spell with his song, and Shoto couldn’t remember a thing.

Had he done something shameful to Izuku? Did he tell him all of his deepest feelings, his only secret that he kept from Izuku? Was Izuku crying because Shoto tried to force himself on him? He swallowed down the bile that crept in his throat. All the while, his most selfish thought was that he didn’t remember what Izuku sounded like when he sang.

“Let me put you back into the bath.”

Izuku shook his head vehemently, clinging to Shoto tighter. 

“I interrupted your bath.” Shoto really didn’t want to force him back into the water, but he wanted to hear from Izuku’s own mouth what he had done.

‘Don’t wanna go.’ Izuku’s finger trembled when he wrote into Shoto’s back.

Shoto sighed and grabbed a slightly damp towel. There was water everywhere. Wordlessly, Shoto helped dry Izuku off.

“I’ll take a bath then, don’t want to waste the hot water.” Shoto helped Izuku to his feet. He kept his head down and wouldn’t look Shoto in the eye.

“Do you need any help?”

Izuku shook his head.

“There’s dinner on the table. Eat something.” Shoto wanted to watch Izuku to make sure that he really didn’t need him, but he could tell that Izuku wanted space. 

After his bath, and mopping up the bathroom, Shoto found Izuku already in his futon with the covers pulled over his head, which he never did because he got overheated. 

Shoto saw that Izuku hadn’t touched his food.

“‘Zuku, you need to eat.” He grabbed both of their meals, even though he honestly felt too sick to his stomach to take a bite, and sat next to the lump under the covers.

He set the meal down by the head of the futon. “Please?”

He made a show of snapping his chopsticks, and scraping against the container to let Izuku hear that he was eating too.

After he choked several down several bites, Izuku’s tanned hand appeared from under the covers and pulled the food closer. Izuku sat up. He looked at Shoto and then quickly looked away. 

Shoto shifted so Izuku didn’t have to see his face and poked at his noodles. They ate like that in oppressive silence.

Izuku signed ‘ Thanks’ in a heavy hand and pushed his half eaten food away. Shoto gathered it up and took it to the kitchen, putting their leftovers in the fridge.

“Did I hurt you?” The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth. It took him a long time before he worked up the courage to look at Izuku.

He was crying again. He shook his head, tears flying.

“Did I do something wrong? Say something wrong?” He whispered.

Again, Izuku shook his head. ‘It’s me. It’s me.’

“Then look at me please.” Shoto pleaded.

‘I can’t. I’ve done something shameful to you.’

Shoto left what dishes in the sink, they could wait until the morning, this couldn’t. They needed to work this out.

He dropped to his knees in front of Izuku. “It was an accident. You didn’t know I was home. I should have knocked louder.”

‘I shouldn’t have been singing in the first place!’

“That’s stupid. You’re allowed to sing.”

Izuku’s head snapped up in anger, but at the last second he looked away from Shoto. 

‘I’m dangerous. I could have hurt you all because I was careless.’

“What’s hurting me now, is how you won’t look at me, Izuku!” Shoto pressed his fingers to his mouth, surprised by the rawness of his own voice.

Izuku, finally, finally looked at him. His eyes shiny with unshed tears, and bloodshot from all the ones he had already shed. A pained expression crossed his face when he looked at Shoto, but he bit his lip so he wouldn’t cry.

Shoto reached out and grabbed Izuku’s hands so he couldn’t speak. “Listen to me for a minute. Please. I’m not mad at you. It was an accident, and if you’re going to blame yourself, then you’ve got to blame me too.”

Izuku tried to pull his hands away to argue, but Shoto tightened his grip, “You’ve got to blame me too, if you’re going to blame yourself.”

He weakly shook his head in protest.

“Then you’re not to blame, either.”

Shoto let his hands go. Izuku kept them quietly folded in his lap, his shoulders slumped.

Shoto went ahead and pulled out his futon and laid it next to Izuku’s, periodically glancing over. He didn’t want to leave it like this.

“I’m not sure what you’re thinking, Izuku, but I want you to know that you’re my best friend. I could never hate you for an accident like this. I don’t think I could hate you ever.”

Izuku sighed heavily and looked over at Shoto. He gave him a wan smile that didn’t reach his eyes, but he was trying. ‘I could never hate you either.’

…

Shoto didn’t expect the problem to be resolved overnight, but he was a little hurt to see that Izuku still wouldn’t look at him, unless Shoto made a point to mention it. They barely spoke when they were together, and even then it was more of ‘Did you get the homework assignment’ or ‘Could you put soap on the shopping list.’

At school, it wasn’t as noticeable. They had classes, and when they didn’t have classes, all their friends were around. It wasn’t obvious to anyone on the outside looking in that there was a problem. It wasn’t out of the ordinary that Izuku would sit next to Shinso instead of Shoto or aim his conversations more towards Uraraka. 

But it had been going on for a week, and everyday Shoto caught Izuku spending more of his time with Shinso. They would sit together at lunch, they would walk together in the halls. What’s worse was, Shinso didn’t understand sign language, so Izuku had to use his phone or pass notes to be understood, and that meant, nothing that they talked about Shoto could overhear or read on fingers. 

Izuku was keeping secrets from Shoto, and he hated it. 

Their friends were starting to notice, Shoto had caught Iida glancing at him more than once. Uraraka and Tsu had abruptly stopped talking when Shoto came across them in the hallway. Yaoyorozu had even asked him that morning if ‘everything was okay?’

And Shoto couldn’t bring it up at home. He couldn’t just ask ‘ Hey, who’s Shinso to you ?’ or ‘ What are you and Shinso talking about ?’. Izuku was allowed to have other friends; Shoto really wished he wasn’t being left out in the process. 

Izuku had taken to staying out late. Shoto had taken to leaving his dinner in the fridge, and was already hiding under his futon when Izuku got home.  Who knew sleeping in the same room as someone else could leave you feeling so lonely?

…

Shoto was walking home with his hands deep into his pockets. Izuku had practice, not that it mattered. They never walked together anymore either. Shoto breathed heavily out of his nose, his shoulders slumping with an invisible weight that seemed to follow him around these days. 

“Hey.”

Shoto glanced over his shoulder to see Shinso walking at a leisurely pace behind him.

He knew the polite thing to do was to stop, but if he stopped, he doubted he had the energy to keep going. Shinso caught up to him with a couple of long strides.

“Can we talk? I know that I’m not your favorite person right now. I might have even taken Uraraka’s place as your least favorite person, but can we talk?”

“You can talk.”

Shinso shrugged one shoulder. “I can work with that. It might make all of this easier.”

Despite saying that, Shinso didn’t speak up. Instead, he took the lead and turned down an unfamiliar street. Shoto followed him, wondering the whole while why he was even following Shinso in the first place. He didn’t have to.

Shinso opened a door to a building and gestured for Shoto to walk in. He was surprised to see cats on several surfaces and smell coffee brewing.

“My treat.” He drawled.

Shinso got himself a large cup of black coffee. Shoto never knew someone to drink coffee totally black before. Even Touya slipped in creamer when he thought no one was looking. Shoto ordered himself a lemonade.

The cats didn’t wait for Shinso to finish ordering before they were all over him. Clearly, Shinso was a regular here, or he had catnip in his pockets. Since their drinks would be brought to them, they settled down at a table at the corner. 

Shoto held out his finger and let a cat rub its chin and cheek against him. He waited for Shinso to speak.

Shinso’s eyes were half closed, he almost looked asleep. “I’m not trying to replace you.” 

“I never said that you were.”

“Maybe not with your voice, no.”

Their conversation was interrupted by drinks. They both murmured thank you.

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

Shinso narrowed his eyes. He seemed to be weighing Shoto for something, seeing if he was worthy. It was a very cat-like gesture.  “There are some things that Midoriya feels like he can’t talk about with you.”

Shoto felt his body tense up. The cat sitting on his lap jumped off. “I’m his best friend. I’m supposed to be able to talk to him about anything.”

“But there are things that you can’t understand. You’re two different people, and no matter what, you can’t live the exact same experience that he does.”

“And you do?” Shoto snapped. 

Shinso rolled his eyes and continued to pet the cat in his lap. 

“What’s your favorite Disney movie?” He suddenly asked.

The question caught him off guard. “What?”

“Your favorite Disney movie.”

“ Frozen .”

“What’s Midoriya’s favorite movie?”

“ The Littlest Mermaid . I fail to see your point.” 

Despite how inaccurate it was, Izuku loved the movie, and it was one of Shoto’s favorites too. They had watched it so often as kids that they managed to corrupt the DVD.

“My favorite movie is the Littlest Mermaid , too.”

“So you two have been sneaking off and talking in secret about the movies for the past couple of weeks?”

Shinso rolled his eyes even harder. “Have you ever watched Aquamarine ? Or the Thirteenth Year ?”

“What do mermaid movies have to do with anything?” Shoto shook his head and stood up from the table. He had had enough.

One of the cats darted in front of his feet making him trip. Shoto braced himself against the table and accidentally knocked over his drink. Shinso jumped back before the drink could land in his lap, but some managed to soak into his uniform sleeve.

Shinso calmed that cat on his shoulder before he picked up a napkin off the table and calmly dried off the scales that had appeared on his arm.

 “I guess this works just as well, since anything coded goes over your head.” Shinso remarked dryly.

Shoto watched as the dark purple scales disappeared before his eyes. Now the references were starting to make sense. Shoto sat back down at the table, and helped clean up his spill. Once everything was settled again, Shoto murmured an apology.

“So, yeah. You’ve figured out what we’ve been talking about for the past week. It started with the singing incident, but evolved into other things. Midoriya hasn’t grown up around others, except for his mom, so he has a lot of questions.”

“Izuku always has a lot of questions.”

Shinso cradled the cat from his shoulder into his arm. “I’m aware. I’ve tried to convince him to come back with me over the summer. There are others that he can learn from. We have schools.”

Shoto felt his stomach drop.

“But he doesn’t want to leave for a whole summer.” Shinso continued.

“It would be good for him.” The words tasted awful in his mouth, but only because they were true.

“Yeah, but we can’t make his decisions for him. I left the offer open to him to take up whenever he wants.”

“Why did you invite me out?” 

“You looked like you could use a friend. Yours isn’t being a great one right now.” Shinso sighed, “Not that I don’t understand where he’s coming from, but you can’t make people stop feeling guilty about things that they insist on being guilty about.”

“I’ve tried to get it through to him that I’m not mad. He doesn’t want to get it.” Shoto stared down at his fist clenched in his lap. The scar on his pinky wavered in and out of view, and he slowly blinked to keep the tears back.

The cat that he had scared off earlier nudged his hand with its nose. Shoto leaned forward and picked it up. The weight in his lap and the warm body in his arms helped. They weren’t allowed to have pets where his family lived, and Izuku didn’t have one either. He remembered some of his classmates talking about how their animals were a comfort to them. Shoto never understood what they meant, but he was starting to get the picture. 

“Her name is Creamer.” Shinso said.

The cat was black all over except for a white splotch on her forehead.

“You come here a lot then?”

“I don’t get much sleep on land. Coffee is the only thing that keeps me functioning.”

Shoto started to spend an afternoon or two a week in the cafe with Shinso.  The lilac-hair guy was good company. He wasn’t the top of his class, but he wasn’t stupid. At first, they mainly talked about Izuku, but they branched off into other topics, like the cats at the cafe or shenanigans that their friends pulled. 

Shinso couldn’t replace Izuku, and certainly the hurt from the distance between them hadn’t disappeared, but at least, Shoto found that he wasn’t jealous of Shinso anymore. He considered Shinso to be the closest friend he had in the group, and he really needed a friend.

Shoto was getting out of the bath when Izuku got home. He barely heard Izuku’s knock over the sound of the hairdryer. Once, he would have turned off the hair dryer to greet him, but now he concentrated on getting his hair dry. It had grown out long enough that he had to put it in a ponytail most days. When he was satisfied that his hair was dry enough that it wouldn’t dry at weird angles, he left the bathroom.

Izuku was still in his club uniform.

“I haven’t drained the bath water, yet.” Shoto offered as he stepped around him to the fridge.

A loud sniffle made him look up from his search for the perfect post-bath drink. Izuku had the heel of one hand pressed to his eye, scrubbing at his tears.

“Hey,” Shoto said softly, “What’s wrong?”

Izuku’s shoulders jumped with a silent hiccup as he started to cry harder. He tried to speak, but his hands trembled so badly that he had to stop. Shoto offered him his towel to wipe his eyes, and patiently waited for Izuku to collect himself. 

‘I’ve been a terrible friend to you. I didn’t even realize it until today. I was leaving practice with Kirishima-kun and I saw you leave the cat cafe with Shinso-kun. And you were smiling. And I realized that I haven’t seen you smile in weeks.” The rest of his speech fumbled into nothing as he began to cry again.

Shoto held him until the sobs subsided, rubbing his back in slow circles. It didn’t help at first, it just made Izuku cry even harder, no doubt from more guilt. Shoto ran the imaginary conversation through his head if he were to try and reassure Izuku that everything really was alright. He shook his head knowing already that it would be useless.

“Go take a bath.” Shoto pushed Izuku towards the bathroom door when he had calmed down a bit. It took a serious amount of self restraint not to pull Izuku back against his chest, when he watched Izuku’s expression shift from shock before it crumpled into resignation. Izuku nodded, thinking he deserved this.

Shoto waited until he could hear more hot water running, and pulled on his hoodie. Izuku was notorious for long baths, but he needed to hurry to get everything set up in time.

He silently congratulated himself when he heard the door to the bathroom swing open. He had the laptop set up with Little Mermaid queued up. He had the popcorn popped, the taiyaki warm, drink options set to the side. He had taken every blanket that they owned and put both of their futons together, in one giant fluffy pile. 

Shoto tilted his head back as he was already leaning back on his hands. “Movie marathon. We haven’t done one in a while.”

Izuku’s lip wobbled and he scrubbed at his eyes. Shoto turned his attention to the popcorn, he hadn’t planned what would happen if Izuku said no. 

He didn’t have to find out. Izuku sat next to him on the pile of blankets. He wasn’t sitting as close as he normally would be, but he was sitting. Shoto threw a pillow at the lightswitch and started the movie. 

Shoto nudged Izuku when the first song came on. “You’re not following the rules.”

This had been one of the ways that Shoto and Izuku had practiced sign language as kids. They would watch their favorite movies that they knew by heart, and would sign along to the songs. When they got good, and they were still too little to know the taste of embarrassment, they would bounce around the whole room, making their gestures as grand as possible. 

Izuku started to sign along, keeping himself as tucked in as possible. His movements were stiff. 

Shoto sighed and channeled his inner performer, basically channeling Toshinori when he was in a really good mood. It couldn’t completely stop him from getting embarrassed, but he could live through a little embarrassment for Izuku.

“Just look at the world around you. Right here on the ocean floor,” Normally, he would sing softly under his breath, he knew he wasn’t that great of a singer. Shoto had never been able to sign songs without singing along to them. He had no idea why his brain worked like that. He continued to push past the normal volume he sang in and made his voice louder and his gestures bigger. His ears burned as he felt Izuku stare at him. “Such wonderful things surround you. What more is you lookin' for?”

He leaned over to jostle Izuku.

Finally, finally. Izuku smiled. He bent over double at the waist laughing with tears in his eyes. It wasn’t until the song was over, and Shoto had performed the whole thing, that Izuku finally recovered his breath again. 

He leaned against Shoto’s shoulder, and for the rest of the night, they pretended that they were in elementary school again. 

Shoto wanted to stay up all night and watch every mermaid movie that Izuku owned, but sometime during the night he lost the fight with sleep. He woke up in the morning with his arms around Izuku’s leg, and a foot against his cheek. His ribs ached from laughing the night before, and his cheeks from smiling. He was thirsty and his breath smelled horrible from the taiyaki. But it had been a success. Izuku was behaving like himself again.

Shoto made a mental note to thank Shinso for the inspiration.

Izuku shifted in his sleep and kicked Shoto in his face. Shoto couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed.

Chapter Text

Shoto liked winter weather, except it left their large group of friends eating in the classroom where it was crowded and noisy.That’s where they were when Izuku came barging in, out of breath. A club senpai had come and collected him right as their class was ending, and Izuku had been gone for most of lunch. 

“Woah, Midoriya-kun! Are you alright?” Uraraka exclaimed.

“You shouldn’t be running in the halls like that!” Iida reprimanded.

Before Izuku could catch his breath, he was already signing.

“I’m not surprised. You have been working very hard.” Shoto said.

Uraraka sprang up from her seat, “What’s he saying Todoroki-kun!”

The urge to tell Uraraka to learn sign language was on the tip of his tongue. She hadn’t progressed very far after learning a few basic niceties. He felt a sharp kick to his ankle from Shinso. He hadn’t even looked up from the game he was playing on his phone.

“He gets to fight in the big end of the year match.” Shoto causally crossed his leg over his lap, and rubbed at his ankle.

The squeal that Uraraka let out was piercing. She grabbed Izuku’s arms and started to jump them up and down. “I’m so proud of you.”

Izuku’s face had no chance of going back to its normal color with all the praise that their friends gave him. Shoto thought it looked really cute, except that his grin was all aimed at Uraraka.

“Midoriya, you should try to eat something before class starts. Your health is important, but now, it is extra important!” Iida reminded him.

Izuku sat down, and pulled Shoto’s bento towards him.

Shoto leaned in, so only Izuku could hear. “Let’s have katsudon for dinner to celebrate.”

His heart melted at the syrupy sweet smile that was just for him. 

…

“Man, there are a lot of people here.” Shinso complained.

Shoto silently agreed, but for different reasons than Shinso’s own. A good rule of thumb Shoto had found was that Shinso was very much like a cat. Things that they liked, like naps in the sunlight, really good tuna, and judging people, Shinso also liked. Things that cats didn’t like such as lots of people, loud, obnoxious noises, and being sprayed with water, Shinso did not like either. 

“It’s the biggest match of the year! Of course they’re going to be a lot of people here! U.A.’s team is the one to beat, but that’s not going to happen!” Uraraka threw her fist into the air. She was as fired up as if she was the one to go on the mat.

Iida, Tsu, and Momo had other obligations today, and couldn’t make it. But Shoto knew Izuku was happy to have anyone come and see his match. 

They found seats down near the front, thanks to Uraraka being part of the girl’s team. She had come early to help with set up, and found them a good place to sit. 

Shoto searched the crowd for wild green hair. He was standing next to Kirishima, looking like he was going to burst into tears any moment from nerves. Shoto caught his eye and gave him a thumbs up.

The trembling in Izuku’s lips hesitated, before settling on a wobbly smile, but his eyes were determined. He flashed him a thumbs up back. 

Shoto leaned forward with his arms against his legs, and his fingers threaded together. He breathed in and out in measured breaths. His stomach writhed and his pinky throbbed. The scar around his eye felt tight. 

He would be alright. He was doing this for Izuku, he repeated over and over in his head. He could close his eyes if the fighting got too rough. He could excuse himself to the toilet if someone got injured.

Uraraka kept a running commentary on all the fights, so Shoto only looked up every once and awhile from the spot that he was stared at on the floor. He counted the thin slats of wood. There were twenty-two. He started counting again. 

“When’s Midoriya’s turn?” Shinso drawled.

“He’ll be one of the last ones,” Uraraka answered him.

“Poor kid, his nerves are going to be fried by then.”

“He’ll be okay. He always has a way of bouncing back when it really counts.” Shoto whispered. 

“He’s super good in practice, but now, he’s super motivated. I can’t wait to see how he does!” Uraraka said, punching the air some more. All her restless energy had to go somewhere.

Shoto blinked, and it was Izuku’s turn. He forced his eyes away from the floor and on to the small guy on the mat. Like Shoto had predicted, all signs of nervousness were gone. Izuku looked confident and stood still. His eyes were laser focused on his rival, no doubt pulling apart his stance and looking for weak points. 

The guy across from him was no one special, taller and broader than Izuku. The size of his back, the slope of his shoulders, the way he held himself, reminded Shoto of someone else. The sound of the room faded away as a loud buzzing took its place. The smell of the mats, the reek of sweat, sick, and blood filled his nose.

When Izuku hit the mat hard, Shoto didn’t even wait to see if he got back up. He couldn’t bear it any longer. He didn’t know what he said to his friends. He pushed his way through the crowded room, not caring if he was rude or not. 

The echo of the door slamming and the rush of cold air from the hallway helped him a little. Shoto leaned against the wall and let his knees give out. His breath was coming out high pitched and reedy. Distantly, his brain latched on to the fact he was having a panic attack.

He tried to picture Natsuo’s face, but he couldn’t remember what it was his brother said to do in times like this. Shoto pressed his lips together, feeling like any minute he was going to be sick all over the floor. 

His father was going to get angry. His mother was going to cry again. He curled up on himself, knowing that the blows were going to come any minute. They were going to get worse because he cried. 

“Stop that.”

Shoto flinched back. Shinso pried Shoto’s fingers from his left eye. He took Shoto’s hand and pressed it to his chest.

“Follow my breathing.”

Shoto couldn’t understand the meaning.

“Hey,” Shinso said, “Follow my breathing. In. Out.”

Shoto gasped and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Again.”

He choked but managed another breath.

“Good. Can you tell me what’s on my hoodie? Tell me everything you see and feel about it.”

This seemed familiar. He had done this before. Shoto focused on the hoodie. “Soft.”

“Go on.”

“Purple, black stripes.”

Shoto said all the details that came to mind, and repeated them for good measure. He could finally breathe again, but the sick sensation still rested on his stomach. He closed his eyes again.

“What’s wrong with him?” A gruff voice asked.

“None of your business.”

A cold water bottle pressed to Shoto’s cheek. “Drink this, idiot.”

Shoto recognized the voice. “Thanks, Bakugo.”

“Whatever.” Footsteps retreated.

“Go and see Izuku.” Shoto murmured, hoping that Shinso was still there. “He needs someone to be there for him when he wins.”

“Uraraka’s there. Probably not who you would prefer to be, but still.”

“Never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Shoto opened his eyes enough to take a drink from the water bottle and leaned his head back against the cool tile of the wall. Shinso sat down next to him. He appreciated that Shinso didn’t say anything else, or try to push for answers.

“My dad was really into martial arts.” Shoto said.

He took another swallow of water. It sat heavy on his stomach. Shoto added, “He was a dick.”

That’s all he was going to say on the subject. Shinso was smart, he could figure the rest. Shoto hadn’t even told Izuku all the details. He knew the gist of what happened, that his father poured a scalding drink on his face, but he didn’t know how Enji’s breath reeked like alcohol, or how he pinned both of Shoto’s wrists down with one hand to keep him from protecting his face. 

The door swung open bringing another gust of air to Shoto’s face. It felt good. He heard seashells clink together and felt two sweaty hands on his cheeks.

Shoto cracked his good eye open. “Did you win?”

Izuku absently nodded. He swiped away moisture from the corners of Shoto’s eyes with his thumbs.

“He dominated the mat after you left, Todoroki-kun. You should have seen it!” Uraraka dropped down to a crouch next to Izuku. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Ate something bad.” Shoto lied.

“That sucks. I think I have some ginger candies in my bag if you want one?”

Uraraka really was a nice person, and Shoto wanted to like her, really he did.

He offered her a small smile, “Thanks, but I’m okay. I’m going to go home and sleep it off.”

‘I’ll go get my bag.’

Shoto shook his head. He could already hear Kirishima’s voice down the hall calling for celebratory barbecue.

“Go and enjoy your win with your team. I can make it home on my own.”

‘But you’re upset.’

‘There’s nothing you can do about it, Izuku.’

Izuku rocked back on his heels, a look of hurt briefly crossing his face. 

“Uraraka, make sure he has some fun.” Shoto pushed himself to his feet. 

“Yes, sir!” She hooked her arm around Izuku’s. “I’ll make sure he eats until he’s sick. Er, that’s a poor choice of words.”

Izuku kept throwing looks over his shoulder the whole way towards the locker room, until Shoto was out of sight. 

“I don’t get you two.” Shinso complained as he fell in step with Shoto.

“What do you mean?”

“If you don’t know, then you don’t know.”

Shinso was kind enough to see him to the train station. His phone dinged with a notification. He hoped that it was from Izuku, saying that he was coming home regardless. It was terribly selfish of him to wish for, especially when he was the one to push Izuku into having fun. His phone dinged again.

He unlocked his phone, but it was only a video of the match from Uraraka and a couple of pictures of him celebrating with his team. Shoto powered down his phone. He had no one to blame but himself. 

He awoke to Izuku’s footsteps next to his face, where he had half drug out his futon before he had collapsed face first down into it. He was still feeling weak and shaky from earlier, but the sick feeling had passed.

‘How are you feeling?’

“Better. Tired.” Shoto mumbled.

Izuku leaned in and pressed his hand to his forehead.

“It’s not the flu, Izuku.”

He settled down next to Shoto on the floor and continued to brush his hair out of his face. It felt good. 

“Did you have fun?”

Izuku nodded, his eyes focused on something in the distance. The look on his face was serious.

Shoto couldn’t fight the shiver that went down his spine at the sense of foreboding that blew icy through him.

“What’s wrong?”

Izuku sighed heavily and flopped down on his back. He kept his hands where Shoto could see them.

‘I think I like Uraraka.’ His hands dropped to his chest. After a long pause he lifted them back in the air again. ‘As more than a friend.’

He had dreaded this moment over and over again in his head. He had known it was coming. He had known and it still didn’t make it any easier. But what could he say ‘I’m happy for you?’ He wasn’t. ‘I wish you luck?’ He didn’t. ‘I like you more than a friend.’ He couldn’t.

Instead, he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep as his heart pounded in his throat, and his stomach sank through the floor. He didn’t reach out to take Izuku’s hand like he wanted to. He didn’t cry like he needed to. Instead, he forced his breathing to be even, until Izuku got up and moved away. 

So much for the end of his first year. 

…

“Izuku-kun!” Uraraka shouted as soon as they walked into their new homeroom.

Shoto frowned, since when were they on a first name basis? Izuku’s face was pink all the way up to his ears, so Shoto had to guess it was a rather recent change.

He looked away from their shojo scene to the rest of the classroom. At the end of their first year, though U.A. rarely kicked out students for their academic grades, there was an unofficial cut of sorts. Teachers and the administration strongly suggested that students reflect on the events of the past year, and decide for themselves whether U.A. was a good fit for them.

Shoto and Izuku had submitted their intent to stay before the short break between semesters. They both had grades at the top of their class, with Izuku barely edging Shoto out for second place. Yaoyorozu had taken first place, Bakugo fourth, and Iida fifth. He knew before break that all of the top five planned to return.

Tsu, he was surprised to see back. Not because she wasn’t smart, but she had thought deeply about a different school with a slightly better marine biology program than what U.A. was currently offering. Uraraka, he knew, had to look at her finances. Like Shoto, she was only able to go to U.A. on scholarships. He had hoped that she might drop out when Shoto took home one of the largest scholarships that they both had been vying for. 

He lingered in the doorway, watching as Izuku’s friends greeted him with excitement and well meaning reprimands to check his phone more often over breaks. There was that feeling again, the one that had been slowly creeping in and ebbing like the tides. Izuke and his friends were standing on the shore, smiling, and Shoto felt like a boat set adrift, unnoticed, unwanted.

“Todoroki-kun, your hair looks so silky and healthy.” Yaoyorozu clapped her hands together. “Is that shampoo and conditioner set that I recommend helping?”

“How was your break?” Tsu croaked. 

Before he could swallow the mysterious lump that had formed in his throat to reply, someone shoulder checked him.

“That’s what you get for standing in the doorway, Candycane.” Bakugo growled as he walked past. He lacked most of his usual venom, almost sounding happy. Kirishima followed him, smiling cheerfully. “Sorry about him. We’ve been working on his manners.”

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have been standing in the doorway.” Shoto murmured, stepping inside the room. Kirishimia threw his arm around Izuku’s shoulder and ruffled his hair. It looked like Kirishima was in their class this year.

“Everyone take your seats, using the chart displayed on the board!” Iida’s voice cut across the din. 

“You haven’t been voted class president yet,” A guy with long black hair, and his uniform sleeves rolled up past his elbows teased. 

Shoto’s eyes found Izuku’s name on the board, always looking for him first. He had one of the coveted window seats again this semester. Shoto’s stomach sank as he searched for his own name nearby. Bakugou, Uraraka, some kid called Kaminari Denki. 

Shoto was placed clear across the room from Izuku next to Shinso and Yaoyorozu. He had stopped reading the rest of the names and resigned himself to his fate. It was only a seat. He wouldn’t be so childish to fuss over a seat.

“Aw, Bakubro, we’re not next to each other. Maybe next semester!” Kirishima’s seat was firmly in the middle, away from Bakugo, who was glaring at Kirishima’s desk with a personal vendetta. At least, Shoto wasn’t the only one unhappy by the seating chart. 

Shinso, as usual, looked halfwake. They nodded to each other in greeting. Shoto put his bag down and took his seat. To resist checking on Izuku, like the pining idiot he knew himself to be from the manga he had borrowed from Yaoyorozu, he spared a brief glance at those seated around him. 

There was a girl with long dangling earrings and purple hair talking to Yaoyorozu. A blond kid had his hands braced against the black haired guy’s desk who had called out Iida earlier. The blond was animatedly recounting something while the black haired guy nodded, leisurely. 

“Jiro Kiyoka is the one talking to Yaoyorozu. Sero Hanta has the black hair and the blond is Kaminari Denki.” Shinso drawled. “They were in class 1-B, but with all the kids that dropped out, we got consolidated.”

“Who’s she?” Shoto pointed to a nondescript girl in the front. 

Shinso raised an eyebrow. “Hagakure Tooru. She was directly in front of you last year.”

Shoto shrugged.

“Quiet.” Aizawa-sensei called from the front.

“Wait, aren’t you a first year teacher?” Kaminari asked.

“Sometimes it feels that way.” Aizawa sighed, staring at the group with a tired and blank look. “Due to circumstances outside of my control, I am the homeroom teacher for class 2-A. Let’s get started. Pass in your summer homework.”

“I think this year will be a good year.” Yaoyorozu stated with calm optimism, settling down in her seat. She was looking at Jiro.

“Speak for yourself.” Shinso sighed and rubbed his face, wearing a very Aizawa look. He glanced towards the middle of the room, but Shoto wasn’t able to track who he had been looking at. At least, Shoto wouldn’t be suffering alone this year, either. 

…

The others were already at their usual spot on the roof by the time Shoto arrived. It was a little brisk, but they all wanted to celebrate being together again in the sunshine. Aizawa had stopped both him and Bakugo to tell them that there was swim practice that afternoon. Uraraka was practically glued to Izuku’s left side. They would be dating soon, he was sure of it. It was obvious that Izuku’s feelings would be returned by the blush covering both of their cheeks. 

Shinso loudly slurped the last of his juice, cutting through Shoto’s jealousy like a knife. “What did Aizawa want with you? It’s a little too early for you to be failing homework.” 

“I have swim practice this afternoon.”

“Brutal.” He quipped.

Shoto shrugged. He didn’t mind, honestly, he looked forward to getting back into his routine.

“Why don’t we all go watch Todoroki-kun swim? Most of the clubs aren’t meeting until later in the week,” Yaoyorozu suggested. 

“It would be a perfect time to get to know more about U.A.'s prestigious, competitive clubs,” Iida agreed. 

“I never miss a chance to visit a pool,” Tsu croaked.

“Yeah,” Uraraka said, visibly brightening. “Midoriya-kun is always going on about how great of a swimmer you are.”

Izuku nodded his agreement, signing just to Shoto. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to watch you swim.’

“I don’t know if Aizawa-sensei will let you all sit in on a practice, but I won’t stop you,” Shoto reluctantly agreed.

…

“Not just stupid Deku, but you had to bring the rest of your dumb posse too?” Bakugo remarked with a sneer as he and Shoto finished up their warm up stretches. 

“I see Kirishima sitting right next to Izuku.” Shoto shot right back. Truth be told, he felt a little embarrassed having all of these people sitting in the small section of bleachers just for him. He made the mistake of glancing over and was met with several bright, expectant smiles and a couple of cheers.

“That full of yourself, huh?” Bakugo continued, ignoring his reply.

“Shut up.”

“Stop your chit chat and make your way over to the pool,” Aizawa ordered.

Mirio-senpai stood next to the pool with his hands on his hips, his familiar green and gray captain jacket draped over one shoulder. It took Shoto a second to pinpoint what was disconcerting about the man. It was because Mirio-senpai was fully clothed.

“Aren’t you swimming today?” Shoto asked.

“Nope!” Mirio beamed. “I graduated.”

“Then why are you here?” Bakugo grumbled.

“Excellent question!” Mirio grinned wider. Several seconds passed before it became clear that he wasn’t going to answer their question.

Aizawa blew his whistle. “Pool.”

Shoto and Bakugo ignored the ladder and jumped right in.

“You can do this Bakugo!” Kirishima’s voice boomed and echoed in the otherwise quiet area. 

Several of their teammates turned to look at Bakugo. Bakugo looked away, held his breath, and went under before Shoto could say anything about it.

Bakugo did indeed do it, but Shoto did it better. He out swam Bakugo in both speed and distance. 

Judging by the way he gritted his teeth and glared death at Shoto, he knew he wouldn’t easily stay ahead for long. That, and the creepy, cheshire smile that graced Aizawa’s features, promised that his gains had been noticed. He was already making plans for Shoto to exceed his personal best. He felt a little sick to his stomach as he took a sip from his water bottle.

“Excellent work!” Mirio called out as the team stood dripping and cold in front of him. The droll and tired looks from his former teammates did little to dampen his enthusiasm. “I bet you’re all wondering why I’m here, riiiight?”

Aizawa sighed. “Since the former team captain graduated, it’s time to pick a new one out of the returning members of the team.”

“Ouch, way to steal my thunder, Aizawa-sensei! But he’s right! I’m here to present the new captain with this!” He brandished the jacket like a banner and struck a dynamic pose.

“That’s not your old and dirty jacket is it? Because I don’t want it,” Bakugo said.

“It’s not actually mine, but I can see your confusion, because it does look exactly like my old one!”

“That’s because it’s a part of the same standard uniform that we’ve used for the last five years,” Aizawa droned, staring intensely at the pool like he just might jump in it to end the conversation. “Mirio, hurry up with your explanation or I’ll finish it for you. I have places to be.”

“More like naps to take,” someone muttered under their breath. The snickering was instantly cut off by  the suggestion of extra laps.

“Without further ado, drum roll please.” A pause. “Come on guys? You were only gone for a couple of weeks, where’s all your school spirit? Can someone please give me a drumroll?”

“We’ve got you!” Kirishima called. He, Izuku, Iida, and Uraraka patted their legs with much enthusiasm, and little rhythm.

“Thank you! The captain position is someone– Okay, guys that’s enough! Guys!” 

“Sorry! Got caught up in the moment!” Kirishima called, and the other grinned sheepishly.

“As I was trying to say, the captain position is someone chosen by the previous team captain, graduating members, and the coach himself. The captain is someone that embodies the values of U.A. Hard work, determination, and skill. It’s not to be taken lightly on just the merit of skill alone. The captain pushes his team to do better, and inspires them with his drive. It comes with power and authority, but don’t forget that even if the position has power and authority, a good captain will realize that it is a chance to grow and better himself, so that he can keep bettering others.”

Shoto was trying hard to pay attention, but he was cold and the chlorine water was starting to dry and make his skin tight.

“Usually we choose a captain from the senior class, but this year, we’ve decided to pick a second year student. A first in recent history.”

Shoto could practically feel Bakugo’s chest puff out in anticipation. He really wished Mirio-senpai would just get on with it so Shoto could go and dry out his hair that was dripping down his back. He was so preoccupied with the idea of a shower and the possibility of going out with Izuku and his friends after school that he nearly missed his name being called. 

“Todoroki Shoto is this year’s captain!”

“What?” Bakugo nearly stuttered with indignation.

“What?” Shoto echoed in surprise. He was a good swimmer, but he wasn’t a good people person. 

“Any profound words to mark this moment?” Mirio asked, offering him the jacket.

“Can I shower and change into dry clothes before you give me the jacket?”

A cough. Probably Shinso.

Shoto tried again “I’ll, um, try my best?”

“At least we have a practical person in the position this year.” Aizawa said. 

“I’ll hold it for you Todoroki.” Iida volunteered. Mirio handed the jacket to Iida while Shoto hurried to rinse off and change.

When he had returned. Uraraka clapped her hands. “We should get barbecue to celebrate. That’s what we always do after big wins in our club”

Shoto shrugged, he had his hair tie in his mouth while he was scraping his hair up into a bun. It didn’t really matter to him, but everyone else seemed excited by the prospect. Shoto couldn’t help thinking that Aizawa and Mirio had made a mistake.

“Don’t screw up,” Bakugo snarled, shoulder checking Shoto as he passed. It would have been fine, if Shoto hadn’t been standing on the edge of the pool where it was still very much wet from practice. It would have been fine if Bakugo hadn’t come up on his blindside and Shoto had seen him coming. But it wasn’t fine. He took a step back, but his foot caught nothing but air. He fell into the water with a resounding splash.

He was lucky that his phone and wallet were in his bag and not in his pocket. Shinso had his hand on Izuku’s shoulder, having pulled him back from the splash zone, but now holding him back to keep him from confronting Bakugo.

‘What’s your deal Katsuki? Just because you didn’t make captain doesn’t mean that you have to act like a five year old that didn’t get his way.’

Even Shoto’s rival seemed surprised that he had fallen into the pool, but there was no way that he would apologize with an audience around.

“What’s all the fuss?” Aizawa stepped out of his office. “I thought swim practice was over.”

Shoto clambered out of the pool, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He lost his hair tie somewhere in the pool.  

“Bakugo pushed Todoroki-kun into the pool!” Uraraka said.

Aizawa looked at Bakugo and then back at Shoto. “Captain decides punishments.”

Shoto paused in wringing out his hair. It would almost not be worth punishing Bakugo, because anything that Shoto did in his position as captain, Bakugo would only see it as rubbing it in his face. It would probably make things between them worse. 

Then again, if Shoto didn’t step up, then he would be weak. Bakugo wouldn’t respect a weak captain. And Shoto would be a liar if he didn’t admit that he was more than a little irritated at having to shower twice. He hoped that he had a change of clothes in his locker from last semester.

“Extra ten laps after next practice. Maybe it will make you more mindful of your teammates and surroundings.” 

“Don’t you think that’s a little much?” Kirishima gently hedged.

“If Bakugo can’t handle ten more laps, I’ll half it, if he apologizes.”

“Can’t handle it?” Bakugo’s nostrils flared. “I’ll do fifteen and you can shove the apology up your ass!” 

He turned on his heel and slammed the door on his way out. Shoto let out a sigh and relaxed his shoulders.

“That could have gone better,” Aizawa-sensei said, “But it could have also gone much worse.” 

He returned to his office without elaborating. Shoto peeled off his school blazer as Izuku approached with a towel. 

His white button up shirt was plastered to his skin. “This is going to be a pain.”

He grabbed the hem of his shirt and started to pull it over his head when he heard a loud noise coming from the direction of the door. A group of students were crowded with various shades of pink on their cheeks, ogling and giggling.

“Those must be the first years checking the club facilities.” Iida stepped purposefully forward to chase them off.

“You’re going to have a fan club,” Tsu said.

“Indeed, he is.” Yaoyorozu glanced meaningfully at his shirt.

Shoto shot her a confused look back.

“You’re, like, totally hot,” Uraraka supplied helpfully. “Like a k-pop star on a magazine cover.”

“Oh.”

Izuku stopped toweling Shoto off to unbutton a couple of buttons on his shirt. There were more squeals from the hallway, and Shoto kind of understood a little how they must be feeling. 

‘Should be easier to take off now. Go take another shower. We’ll wait for you, Captain.’

Shoto swallowed and nodded

It turned out that he did not have a complete change of clothes in his locker. He only had a pair of wrinkled shorts. However, Izuku had a shirt shoved down in the bottom of his bag. It was pink, which wasn’t really a problem. The problem was that the shirt was a little short on Izuku, which made it a crop top on Shoto. 

The group insisted that he wear the captain jacket, even though it didn’t match, and they all went out for barbecue. And yeah, Shoto might have felt a little silly, but the food tasted better eating as a group. They all were having fun together, as they hit up an arcade and stayed out just a little too late on a school night. 

Shoto even forgot to be jealous of Uraraka for a time, only remembering it when they broke up to go their separate ways for the evening. He relished the fact that he could throw his arm around Izuku’s shoulder and they were going home together. He and Izuku. Uraraka had to make her way home with Tsu.

‘I think pink really suits you.’ Izuku signed, leaning up against the doorframe as Shoto unlocked the door.

“Doesn’t it clash with my red hair?”

‘Not when I do this.’ Izuku reached up and thoroughly ruffled his hair until it was completely mixed up. 

He took a lightning fast picture and showed it to Shoto. ‘See, now you match the shirt.’ And it was true, the white of his hair made the red of his hair much lighter.

“I guess so.” 

Izuku grinned over his shoulder as he emptied out his bag. He had found he needed to clean out his bag while searching for a shirt earlier. Shoto set to laying out their futons.He peeled off the pink shirt to change into something more comfortable. He almost felt like he wanted to take another bath after being out all evening in heavily populated areas. 

Shoto was about to ask Izuku if he would take a bath if Shoto took one when he noticed Izuku’s signature white ‘t-shirt’ t-shirt. The very same shirt that he had just pulled out of his bag.

“You gave me the crop top on purpose!”

Izuku jumped nearly a foot in the air, green eyes clearly guilty. He swallowed nervously. ‘I thought it would be funny, Shochan.’

He tossed the crop top in Izuku’s face as a distraction and lunged forward. It was only because Shoto had played dirty that he was able to wrestle Izuku onto the futon. He straddled the smaller boy and kept his face perfectly neutral when he said, ““Funny? I’ll show you funny.” 

He tickled Izuku right where he knew he was the most weak. Izuku’s mouth opened in surprise, flapping open and closed, like a beached fish as he tried to wiggle out from under Shoto. 

“Is it so funny now?” Shoto asked.

Izuku shook his head as he silently giggled, mouthing for him to stop as his hands were too bushy trying to push Shoto’s hands away. He squirmed, but if he really wanted to get away, he could have pushed Shoto off in a second. 

Shoto grabbed Izuku’s wrists and pinned them down. They were chest to chest, both breathing hard, the pink crop top pressed between them. They stared at each other, Izuku’s mouth pulled wide into a smile, Shoto’s eyes twinkled with mirth. 

He was so beautiful. Enchanting. 

Shoto rested his forehead against Izuku’s shoulder, feeling warm puffs of laughter against his cheek as Izuku caught his breath. His lips brushed against his scar. It could almost be a kiss. He turned his head so he could see Izuku better out of his good eye. Izuku gazed back at him with a depth of expression that Shoto wished he could describe, so he knew with absolute certainty what Izuku was feeling. 

He edged just a hairbreadth closer. Izuku tugged his right hand free, not that Shoto had any true grip on him anymore. What was Izuku going to do? Push him away? Pull him closer?

Izuku’s phone burst into life and both of them jumped. Shoto leaned back so Izuku could get to his phone that had fallen to the side, squinting at the screen for a second before hitting the accept button. 

“Izuku, I told you to call me when you got home from school to tell me that you got settled,” Inko chided.

Shoto released Izuku’s other hand so that he could sign his apologies. He climbed off of his best friend and decided to take a bath after all. One on the cold side to cool his feverish skin.

Chapter Text

Shoto planned to work a job over the summer, much like Uraraka planned to. Between his swim scholarship and his scholarship for top grades (he was secretly very smug that he had beaten Uraraka out for it) almost all of his tuition was covered. It didn’t count for the extra fees that being on the swim team incurred, especially now that he would be in competitions. That, and Tokyo was expensive. His mother sent him what little bit of pocket money she could spare every month. Still, Shoto didn’t want to be a burden on his family. It meant less time at the beach, but he could hold his head up high when he looked in the mirror.

He adjusted his grip on his bags, and lightly kicked the door to knock. He had his key somewhere, probably at the bottom of his backpack. The lights were on, so someone could get the door for him.

The door swung open and a blond man with sharp eyeliner answered the door. Shoto looked at the stranger and then looked at the placard next to the door. Surely his family would have told them if they had moved.

“Woah, rockin’ the ponytail there. Are you going for the mysterious samurai look, cause you’ve almost got it nailed. Just needs to be a bit longer, and you’ll have the ladies all over you, Shoto.” The man winked and grinned knowingly at him.

He racked his brain for who this man could be. He knew he was bad at faces, but he would remember someone that he had let call him by his given name.

“Shoto’s here,” Fuyumi called, coming to the rescue. So, at least, his family did still live here.

The man in front of him didn’t seem to be Fuyumi’s type, but maybe? Fuyumi caught his look.

“Nope.” She popped her lips, and grabbed one of Shoto’s bags.

Shoto carefully stepped around the blond guy, more confused than ever.

“You didn’t bring Izuku-kun with you?” Natsuo asked from the couch.

“He has his own family.”

“That sucks. I have the day off, and he’s a lifesaver when it comes to co-op video games.”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” The blond guy protested.

“No, Hawks, you’re better than Shoto there, but you’re no match for his bo-” Natuso cleared his throat “-best friend.”

His name was Hawks? It had to be a nickname. It was almost as stupid as Dabi. But the nickname could mean that he was Natsuo’s friend.

“Nii-san?” Shoto hooked his thumb over his shoulder at Hawks.

“I didn’t invite him.”

“But would you invite me?” Hawks grinned and ruffled Natsuo’s hair.

Shoto ignored their play-fighting and gravitated towards the kitchen more perplexed than ever. Hawks acted like he had always been around with how familiar he was acting. He dropped his bags off beside the couch for now. His mom was standing over a pot of boiling water.

“Do you need my help?” Shoto reached for the extra apron on the peg.

“No, it’s almost done. We’re having soba tonight, just the way you like it. It’s not every day that you come home from Tokyo.”

“I’ve been back before now.” Shoto protested.

He grabbed the plates and bowls from the cabinets to set the table.

“That’s true, but you passed your first year in high school, at the top of your class.”

“I was third.” Shoto corrected and thought for a moment. “And that was months ago. Didn’t we celebrate that already?”

“Let your mother be proud of you.” Rei stepped away from the stove and cupped his cheek. She looked at him with unrestrained pride and affection. Shoto had to wonder what he had done in a past life to have someone like her as his mother.

“You’re growing up.” Even when her eyes turned misty, her smile never wavered.

“Mother.” Shoto’s own voice was thick with emotion. Everyone was so desperate to grow up; he wasn’t ready yet. He still needed his mom. Especially now, when Izuku had his heart in knots.

“Can we…” He had to pause and clear his throat. “Can we talk later?”

“Of course,” She rubbed his cheek with her thumb, “It’s been awhile since we’ve had a talk, just the two of us. Is it something wrong?”

“Nothing important.”

Rie looked like she was about to ask another question when Hawks walked into the kitchen. “Here, let me set the table. You’ve just had a long train ride. Take it easy and relax, okay?”

He took the plates and bowls out of his hands before he could protest, leaving Shoto’s hands hovering uselessly. Hawks was a whirlwind.

That reminded him of part of the reason that he had come into the kitchen. If Hawks wasn’t here because of Fuyumi or Natsuo then that meant… Not that his mother wasn’t a beautiful woman that took care of herself, but to date a man that could be her son’s age? Was she going through a midlife crisis? Was that why Hawks was speaking in such a familiar way to him? Would Shoto have to call Hawks dad?

“Give me those.” Touya snapped.

“What, don’t trust me to set the table?” Hawks danced around Touya.

“You’re a guest.”

“Am I though?” Hawks didn’t fight Touya when he grabbed the plates this time. In fact, he leaned in very close into his personal space and kissed him on the nose. What was more incredible that Touya let him.

Touya caught Shoto staring. “Take a picture, it lasts longer!”

“Oh man, Shoto, your face is as red as your hair. Well half of it.” Hawks teased.

“You and Touya?” Shoto choked out.

‘Touya’ Hawks mouthed to himself with a small grin.

“Have a problem with it?” Touya’s classic sneer was back.

Hawks covered Touya’s face with his hand and pushed his face away. “No one told you? No wonder you’re so shocked. Sorry, didn’t mean to spring this on you, little man. Your brother and I have been dating for about five months now.”

“Oh, thank god.” Shoto whispered.

Hawks gave him a quizzical smile.

Shoto laughed. He couldn’t help it. He was so relieved that it made him hysterical. “I was trying to figure out who it was. You’re not with Fuyumi or Natsuo. I didn’t even consider Touya.”

Shoto gripped the chair and leaned over. “Oh, thank god.”

Natuso popped his head up from over the couch. “Wait, did you think that Hawks and Mom?”

Shoto nodded. He wasn’t even embarrassed when everyone besides Touya started laughing at him. He was just so relieved.

“Calm down, babe,” Hawks gasped, trying to catch his breath. He threw the arm that wasn’t clutching his stomach around Touya’s shoulders. “You gotta admit it’s funny.”

Rei wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Dinner’s done. Let’s eat.”

They all crowded around the table, digging into the food, with the occasional leftover giggle. Shoto caught Touya’s eye over noodles; he wasn’t happy. Shoto knew that there would be more on that conversation later.

When Shoto brought up getting a part time job, everyone was supportive. Natsuo even went so far as to get ahold of his old boss and set up a job interview for the day after tomorrow.

“You need at least one day as a free kid,” Natsuo said.

“I’ll pack you a lunch for the beach, but don’t expect too many home cooked lunches from me,” Fuyumi warned, “I’ve got summer classes to teach.”

Shoto smiled at both of his older siblings. He had forgotten that there were some perks of being the baby of the family. He always had them looking after him.

He helped wash up the dishes after dinner.

“I’ll go get the car.” Hawks said, twirling the keys around his finger.

Shoto felt eyes burning into the back of his head. He ignored the feeling, like he had ignored it all dinner while everyone else was set on having a good time. His mother gently nudged him with her hip to get his attention.

“I’ll finish up the dishes.”

He couldn’t argue with her. Shoto took his time carefully drying his hands. When he turned around, Touya was still glaring at him.

“Need something?” Shoto didn’t need to try hard to sound unimpressed, but he really put effort into it anyway. I’m not afraid of you. You can’t intimidate me.

Touya jabbed his thumb at the door. “Thought you could see me out. You know, since it’s been awhile.” I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.

Shoto wanted to refuse, but the way he caught Rei watching them, he couldn’t. Damn, Touya for putting him into this position.

He walked to the door and held it open without a word. Closing it behind him, so their mother couldn’t overhear. “What.”

“You don’t think I’m good enough for Hawks.”

Shoto raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know Hawks. But I do know you.”

“Fuck you, little brother. I am good enough for him.” Touya got up in Shoto’s face. Only a few inches separated them. Touya was Fire. Shoto was Ice.

“Are you ‘Dabi’? Hawk’s seems like a nice enough guy. You aren’t a nice guy. You made sure of that.”

To his surprise, Touya took a step back, the curl of his lip relaxed some. “I was a bad guy. But I’m trying to be better for him.”

“Is that all?” Shoto dismissed him, putting his hand back on the knob. “I’ve got things to unpack.”

It was like he had poured gasoline on a match. Touya grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him close again. “I am better!” His hands, which were cold, burned through Shoto’s shirt.

“I don’t believe you. Taking out a couple of your piercings, wearing less eyeliner, having a boyfriend. That might be enough for them,” Shoto glanced briefly at the door, “But it’s not enough for me. Six months doesn’t erase a lifetime.”

‘I hate him so much. Why is he so special?’ That’s what Touya screamed at their mother. Shoto heard what he really meant. I wish Endeavor had burned him worse.

Natsuo and Rei were holding Touya back, blood dripping from his split lip. Fuyumi was putting pressure over Shoto’s bleeding fingers, positioning herself between them to shield Shoto from his eldest brother. “You’re just like him!”

Touya spat blood at Shoto’s feet, a silent promise. You’re just like him, and I will kill you because of it.

‘Don’t listen to him, Shoto. He’s wrong. He’s just upset. He’ll calm down soon,’ Fuyumi had whispered.

But Touya never calmed down. He hated Shoto, and he nursed that hate for years. For a lifetime. For Shoto’s lifetime.

Touya’s fingers uncurled and a look of remorse passed over his face. “I’m sorry. I know saying it’s not enough. But I am trying. I made mistakes.”

How many years had Shoto waited to hear those words out of Touya’s mouth and to actually mean them? All Shoto had ever wanted was to have his big brother back, and here he was.

“You’re right,” Shoto said. “It’s not enough.”

He pushed Dabi’s hands off of his shirt and opened the door. He turned his face back towards Dabi, standing stunned and stupid outside of the apartment. Shoto pitched his voice low enough that their mother wouldn’t hear. He didn’t want her to witness her youngest son become just like her husband.

“I liked you best when you were out of my life, Dabi.” He made it so easy for Shoto to be cruel.

Shoto closed the door and locked it. He grabbed his things and took them to the room he shared with Natsuo and started to unpack.

Rei drifted in after some time and sat on his futon. She helped him refold some of his clothes, and watched him hang up the rest.

“Do you still want to talk?”

Ah, right. He had wanted to talk about Izuku. After what had happened with Dabi, it had been pushed to the furthest parts of his mind. He felt calm, after what he said. It had been heartless to say, but he had meant it with every fiber of his being.

Someone like Shoto didn’t deserve to love Izuku.

“No.”

Rei gently pushed his hair back from his face. “He’s trying.”

Shoto took her hand and gently returned it to her lap. “Good night, Mother.”

…

He left the house while everyone was still asleep. Luckily, Fuyumi had packed his lunch the night before. He put it and a couple of bottles of water in his beach bag, joining his ever present collection of sunscreen, googles, and towels.

He tried to keep a measured pace as he ran towards the beach, but he was just too excited. His bag slapped his back in time with his heartbeat, his ponytail streaming behind him as he pushed himself harder. He could taste the salt in the air, could feel the waves calling him.

Shoto’s feet hit the sand, the drag and resistance making his legs burn, as he picked his legs up higher. He threw a wave at the fisherman on the pier. The sky was velvet dark. The moon still reigning over the water. The promise of the sun just on the horizon. He had missed this.

Izuku wasn’t on the beach. He must already be in the water. If Shoto’s heart was racing this much in anticipation for the ocean, how must Izuku feel? He took one last look around before throwing his things down and wading in.

Aizawa’s training really had made a difference. He felt strong as he fought against the waves. The burn was a pleasant one. He paced himself, not wanting to tire himself out before the day had even begun. Izuku wasn’t around, but he could be swimming out in deeper waters.

As the sun rose, more people made their way to the beach. Still no Izuku. Shoto took a break, toes curling in the sand. He checked his phone. He hadn’t texted Izuku about coming to the beach, Shoto had assumed he would be there. That’s how it was every summer. This is what they did together.

The day crept on. Shoto migrated off the sand to their usual spot on the more rocky area of the beach. Izuku’s stuff wasn’t around. He sent Izuku a text. It was far too late in the day for him to go swimming with all the people around, but they could still spend the day together on land.

Shoto swam some more to keep from checking his phone every minute when it became obvious that Izuku wasn’t going to text back immediately. For a short time it worked. It was just Shoto and the water. He was doing what he loved doing. He didn’t need Izuku to have a good time, but he wanted him to be there too.

He spent the rest of the day alternating between swimming, taking walks, picking up trash, and reading webcomics on his phone. He waited until he knew he was going to be late for dinner before he left the beach. Izuku still hadn’t shown up, or texted. It made Shoto uneasy.

“How was your day at the beach?” His mother asked. “Did you have a good time?”

“I did, but…”

“But?”

“Izuku didn’t show up at the beach today.”

Rei looked surprised. “Maybe Inko just wanted him all to herself today. You know how she is.”

Shoto nodded.

…

Shoto stared at the clothes his brother had helped him pick out for the interview.

“It’s only a grocery store.”

“Yeah, and first impressions matter whatever the job it is you’re going for.” Natsuo said.

“It’s a suit.”

“Yeah, it was my old one, but I think you’ll fit it.”

Shoto looked at his brother. “Was it the suit that you interviewed for this job in?”

“Ah…” Natsuo took a closer look at the suit. “Maybe ditch the jacket. It’s hot anyway.”

Natsuo hung the jacket back into their closet and rambled on about interview questions. “Hey, are you listening to me?”

Shoto put his phone back down. Izuku hadn’t texted him at all.

“Yeah.”

…

The beach beckoned him as he walked to the grocery store. He looked away as he adjusted his tie. He felt ridiculous. He had gone to this grocery store a million times; he knew the owner. What was the point in dressing up?

He huffed as he checked that his hair was still neat and tidy in the reflection of the storefront. Once he got the job, he wouldn’t have to wear this suit for the rest of the summer. He knew already how his summer would play out. He would go for a run and a swim every morning. He’d put on his work uniform and go to work with salt water still drying in his hair. He’d work for most of the day, text Izuku on his lunch breaks to complain. He’d help cook dinner at home and hang out with Izuku in the evenings.

All of his days off he’d spend with Izuku. They’d spend all day at the beach, swimming into deep waters, seeing if they could both still fit in the cave. It would be just the two of them, no other friends to get in their way. Just him and Izuku.

He was saving the money for when they went back to Tokyo, but he would set some aside so that they could go to a movie or eat at one of their favorite restaurants, or maybe play at an arcade. Shoto smiled to himself, wondering if any of Izuku’s favorite superheroes had any merch coming out anytime soon.

Izuku would forget about Uraraka for the summer, maybe even push his crush completely out of his mind. Shoto sighed, he could only wish. Remembering the night before and what he had said to Dabi, Izuku really deserved better than Shoto. He deserved someone that didn’t hate his brother for trying to better, Izuku deserved someone that wasn’t so desperate for him to love them, that they would do anything to change his feelings.

Shoto could only hope that Izuku would love him one day.

The job interview lasted for all of ten minutes, before Shoto was out on the floor, wearing an apron over his nice outfit, as he stocked the store. The manager and he had agreed that Shoto wasn’t exactly a people person. He couldn’t promise that Shoto would never work on the register, but he would at least try to give him other work first. Shoto appreciated the kindness. He now understood why Natsuo had stuck around so long. It wasn’t a bad place to work for his first job.

The sun was starting to set, as Shoto walked towards Izuku’s apartments. His phone still hadn’t gone off with a notification from him where it sat nestled in his back pocket next to his work schedule. It was difficult to fight on the creeping fear that something had gone terribly wrong. It wasn’t like Izuku to ignore him like this.

He knocked on the Midoriya residence door. He waited. He knocked again. When he was about to give up, Izuku answered the door.

All the things that he had been planning to say died on his lips, when he took in Izuku’s disheveled look and his bleak expression.

‘Oh, hey.’

“Hey. Can I come in?”

Izuku nodded and opened the door wider. Shoto ducked under his arm and looked around the house. Normally, Inko kept everything neat and tidy. It looked like she hadn’t cleaned in days.

Shoto picked up a pillow and put it in its place on the couch. Swiped some takeout containers into his arm and carried them into the kitchen.

‘You don’t have to clean my apartment, Shoto.’ Even his fingers seemed to lack his usual energy.

“Are you sick?” Shoto asked.

Izuku bit his lip and shook his head.

Shoto half wondered if Izuku had confessed to Uraraka and he had been rejected. He glanced around. “Where are you parents?”

‘Mom’s at the hospital with Dad.’ He paused to collect himself, ‘He’s not doing well.’

Toshinori must really be in a bad way for his family to admit he wasn’t well.

“Is he going to die?”

Izuku’s lips trembled. ‘We don’t know.’

Shoto pulled him into a tight hug before the tears started falling. Izuku squeezed him back, but quickly wiped his eyes, composing himself.

“Sit, I’ll fix you dinner.”

Izuku didn’t argue, which was how Shoto knew that he wasn’t taking things as well as he was trying to appear.

He didn’t make anything fancy. The fridge and cupboards were pretty bare. Shoto made him fried rice from leftovers and cut him up some fruit. While he ate, Shoto straightened the kitchen. Izuku tried half-heartedly to the dishes before Shoto banished him to the couch.

Shoto took a second to text his mom that he would be late, and then, he turned his attention to the living room. Izuku watched him through heavy eyelids.He grabbed Shoto by the wrist. Without thinking, Shoto ran his thumb across the shells on Izuku's wrist.

‘Talk to me.’

“About what?”

‘Anything. Why are you dressed so nicely?’

Shoto sat down on the couch. Izuku put his head in his lap. “I had a job interview.”

‘Did you get it?’

“Yeah.”

Shoto recounted his day as he played with the strands of Izuku’s hair. He went ahead and told him which days he would have off, if Izuku wanted to come to the beach with him. Izuku gave him a vacant smile. He didn’t tell Izuku about Hawks or Dabi. That could wait for another time if it ever came about at all.

Only after he had seen that Izuku got into his bed and went to sleep did Shoto leave. He wanted to stay more than anything, but he knew his own family was expecting him, wondering about the job interview, and wondering why he was out so late. The ideal summer crumbled underneath his feet like sand at the turn of the tide.

What free time Shoto had he spent at Izuku’s. Half of the time, Izuku wasn’t even home. He was at the hospital with his mother. Shoto would straighten up the apartment as best as he could, leaving something to eat in the fridge for when they eventually got home. He was pretty sure they ate what he left, it was usually gone when he showed up later in the week.

The only time he truly had for himself were his morning runs on the beach and swimming in the ocean before work. The stretch and burn of his muscles, helped him forget for a time what all awaited him on shore.

As he walked to work counting the days until school, he realized that neither Izuku nor Inko had been to the beach all summer. The thought kept nagging him as he put away some cans of sauce.

“Shoto-kun?”

Inko stood behind him holding a grocery basket. She looked exhausted and stressed.

“Hello, how are you?” He started to ask before Inko threw her arms around him and started crying. He was used enough to Izuku doing this, that his first instinct was to hug her. He glared at any of the customers that looked at them longer than a passing glance. Inko didn’t need to worry about that on top of everything else.

He took a pack of tissues that were at the end of the shelf, opened them, and offered Inko one. She wiped her eyes with a weak chuckle. “I’m sorry to embarrass you at work.”

“You haven’t.” He replied.

She shook her head. “I intended to tell you thank you for all that you’ve been doing for us these past weeks. You’re using up all of your summer taking care of us, when you should be outside having fun. You only have a couple more summers until you turn into an adult. You should be making the most of your vacation.”

“I really don’t mind.” He didn’t add that summer wasn’t really summer without Izuku with him at the beach. “How is Toshinori?”

Inko was staring hard at a can of tomato sauce, trying not to cry. “A little better today.”

“Can he have guests?”

“You shouldn’t spend what little free time you have at the hospital.”

“I want to.” Shoto insisted softly. He thought of all the times Toshinori had let Shoto tag along when he took Izuku to play baseball or to go to the arcade or to see a movie. How many conversations had they had on the couch that Shoto should have had with his own father? He didn’t have to do any of that, but he did. He always made sure that Shoto was included. He always treated Shoto like he was his own son.

That’s how he found himself outside of a hospital door, his arms full. He had brought a bag with Toshinori’s favorite magazines, flowers, and a packed lunch that would feed all of them. His mother and Fuyumi had helped him well into the night by putting something together that would be tasty and filling. He wanted to bring more things, like a cd player and a warm blanket, but his mother had gently stopped him at the door, telling him that Inko and Izuku had probably brought him all of those things already. If they didn’t, Shoto could bring them again when he visited.

Inko answered the door with a worn smile. “Hello, Shoto-kun. Let me take some of those things from you.” She took the lunch and the magazines, leaving him holding the flowers.

Izuku was curled up in a chair dragged close to the bed with his head laying on the mattress. Toshinori’s frail hand rested on his head. Shoto thought his fingers were twitching in his sleep, but seeing that Toshinori’s eyes were open, he realized that he was trying to pet Izuku’s curls.

“Shoto-shonen,” Toshinori wheezed, his voice almost lost in the oxygen mask.

He had been frail before, but now, Toshinori was wasted away. His eyes sunken so deep into his head, almost all of his muscle mass was gone. Shoto had heard the term, the living dead. He had never thought he would see it.

“You look awful.” Shoto blurted out. Horror washed over him. The uncomfortable miasma in the room doubled. Izuku had tears in his eyes. Inko had her back turned to him, so he couldn’t see her reaction, though he knew it must be similar. Shoto was about to turn right around and leave when Toshinori began wheezing and didn’t stop.

It was only when his heart monitor didn’t fail and nurses didn’t come rushing in, that Shoto realized that he was laughing.

“I appreciate your candor, as always. I get tired of hearing how good I look. Take a seat and tell me about school and how your summer has been going.”

Izuku got up and sat at the foot of the bed, letting Shoto have his spot. Shoto shifted around trying to get comfortable in the uncomfortable chair. He shifted some more, when he realized that everyone had their undivided attention on him. It wasn’t like he had never had the Midoriya family’s attention on him before. They weren’t strangers, he had practically lived at their apartment. This shouldn’t be new, or hard to him. He realized it because it had been so long since he had gotten to have a conversation with all of them. Hell, he barely got more than a text out of Izuku every couple of days if he was lucky.

“Shoto-kun, are you okay, honey?” Inko asked.

He fought down his discomfort; it didn’t matter here. He gave them all a small smile. “I’m not sure where to start.”

“Tell us about your job. Are you liking it, except when mothers spring up behind you and cry on your shoulder in the middle of the store?”

They all smiled at Inko’s attempt at a joke, and Shoto found it easy to talk about his work once he got started. The content of his days didn’t really matter. He knew that he was a much needed distraction for the Midoriya family, a little window outside of this hospital room.

A doctor with an unreadable expression stepped into the room as Shoto was describing the fight he had lost to a stack of boxes and a bike rack. He let his sentence trail off, “Should I go?”

“No, no,” Toshinori whispered. Shoto had thought he had fallen asleep. “You stay here with me. Inko and Izuku can go out into the hall and speak with the doctor. I’m much too tired to talk about anything medical today.”

Inko and Izuku looked torn. Neither wanted to keep the doctor waiting. Neither of them wanted to leave Toshinori alone.

He managed to lift his hand and give a short irritated wave. “Go and stretch your legs. Young Todoroki will come and get you if I take a turn for the worse, if panicked nurses don’t let you know first.”

Inko went with the doctor. Izuku lingered by the door.

Toshinori sighed. “How about you bring me a cold can of black tea from the vending machine?”

They all knew it was a feeble excuse, but Izuku couldn’t resist any help that he could give his father. He finally left the room with several backward glances.

Toshinori closed his eyes and sighed again. “That boy.”

Shoto kept his eyes on the blanket in front of him, and not the tears at the corner of Toshinori’s eyes. When he looked back up, he was unsurprised to find Toshinori’s piercing gaze on him.

“Tell me what’s bothering you, my boy. Besides all of this, that is.” He said. Tell me while I can still listen.

Shoto swallowed around the lump in his throat. All of this. That included Izuku. “Do you know about my older brother?”

“Natsuo?”

“No… my other brother. Touya or Dabi.”

“The delinquent.”

Shoto smiled a little, though he wasn’t sure why. “Yeah, him.”

“I know a little of him.”

He leaned back into his chair and painted a picture for Toshinori of his other brother. He started at the beginning, no doubt the part that Toshinori knew ‘a little of.’ Shoto’s sure that Izuku had told Toshinori about the fight when he had first come over to spend the night. Izuku told his father everything.

Shoto talked about the night with Hawks over. Toshinori wheezed until he had to stop and take several long draws of oxygen when Shoto got to the part about his fear of Rei dating Hawks. He told Toshinori word for word the cruel things that he had told his brother that night. It hit him like a punch, that he still hadn’t told Izuku about that night.

“He offered me a ride today, to bring me here.” Shoto said.

“And did you take it?”

“Only because Mother was standing there. Dabi made it seem like he was helping me because I had so much stuff to carry.”

It hadn’t been the first time that Dabi offered, but it had been the first time that Shoto couldn’t get out of it. The ride had been excruciating. Shoto would have rather taken a packed train car in the middle of summer with everyone standing on his blindside than to be in that air conditioned car, sitting in silence, while some metal band wailed on the radio. When they stopped three blocks away from the hospital at a redlight, Shoto got out, ignoring as his brother yelled after him.

Shoto decided not to tell Toshinori that part. He already seemed petulant enough without that detail.

“It’s not easy, letting someone back in your heart when they’ve burned you once. And you have every right not to let him back in again.”

Shoto froze. It was the first time that an adult had said that to him. His mother had been quietly pushing him to forgive his brother all summer. Hawk had been doing his best to charm Shoto into liking the both of them. Fuyumi was just so pleased to have the family back together again. Natsuo had always been closer to Touya than Shoto, that was until Dabi arrived. Everyone was so ready to forgive him. To give Dabi a second chance. Shoto wasn’t.

“Is it okay to hate him?” Shoto heard himself whisper.

Toshinori thought over his words for a long time, giving them careful consideration. “I think it’s okay to have any emotion, as long as you don’t let it consume you. Some emotions, like love and hate, are so powerful, young Shoto. Make sure that when you feel those emotions towards a person, that that person deserves them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“To put it plainly. Do you hate Dabi because you hate your father?”

His mouth opened to say something, but he couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Your father was responsible for both the abuse that you and Touya suffered. Time passed but neither of you got the vindication. Neither of you got justice for your suffering. Because he made you both suffer, you’re both linked to something that no one else in your family can share”

It was true, while their mother was granted a divorce, their father was never really punished for any of it. The agreement was that Rei take the money and move away, and no charges would be brought against Endeavor.

Shoto never blamed his mother for it. If life were a crime show, his mother would have been brave enough to take Endeavor to court. She and their family would have won. Endeavor would have been thrown in jail. But this wasn’t a show.

Real life was messy, and though Shoto didn’t understand it at the time, Rei was just as powerless and traumatized by it as they were. Now, the statute of limitations had passed, and nothing could be done. His father still trained other promising young men and women in martial arts.

If he didn’t blame his mother, did that mean he blamed Dabi instead?

“No, I don’t think I hate him because of our father.” Shoto said.

I wish he had burned you worse instead. The same couldn’t be said for Dabi.

“Come closer.”

Shoto ducked his head and leaned closer as Toshinori had requested. Toshinori put his hand on Shoto’s head, even though it must have tired him greatly. “You’re a good boy.”

“You’ll be a good man,” Toshinori whispered. “There’s something I want to tell you while I can. How I won Inko’s hand in marriage.”

“You’ve told me this story before.” Shoto said fondly.

“Not all of it. There is more to it. Inko will no doubt tell Izuku about it when it is the right time, but I want you to know. There is a requirement to winning all mer hearts.”

Shoto shook his head. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t like the implication that Toshinori wouldn’t be around to tell Shoto about it some other day, but most importantly he didn’t want to hear it because, “Izuku loves someone else.”

Toshinori looked surprised. Had Izuku not told him about Uraraka? His expression turned pensive. “I see.”

Shoto stood up to collect himself, to get his expression back under control. “Besides, you can tell me about it later.”

Toshinori smiled, a patient parent used to his stubborn children. “Alright.”

They didn’t talk about anything else. Toshinori slipped effortlessly into sleep. Shoto only left when Inko returned to the room. She thanked him and his family for the meal and gave him a warm hug. Even in her grief, Inko gave the best hugs.

He found Izuku sitting on a bench in front of the hospital, holding a can of unopened black tea loosely in his hands. He looked exhausted, like a soldier that had seen too much, and knew that he had to keep going. Shoto sat down beside him, thinking that children should never have the look of soldiers.

Unprompted, he took the can out of Izuku’s hand, popped the tab, and handed it back to him. They both knew that Toshinori didn’t like black tea. They sat for several minutes before Izuku brought it to his lips and took a small sip.

He signed slowly. ‘The doctors have approved him for surgery. They’re going to replace his stomach, intestines, liver, and lungs. Give him a new kind of medicine.’

Shoto didn’t know much about surgeries, but he didn’t think that replacing all of those organs at once was a normal thing.

“It’s like starting from scratch. He needs new organs to withstand the new medicine. He needs new medicine to fix his immune system attacking his organs. There’s a very high chance that he will die from the surgery. It’s certain that he will die without it.”

Izuku took another sip of his tea. Shoto took the can from him when his hands started to tremble too much. He sat next to him until Inko called Izuku’s phone to get him to come inside. He continued to sit on the bench long after his best friend had left, a half drank can of black tea in his hands.

What could you do when the person you loved the most was hurting and there was nothing that you could do about it?

…

“Shoto!” Natuso yelled. “Door!”

“I’m doing dishes, you get it!” Shoto yelled back.

“Can’t. Boss fight!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying for a test?”

“I’ll get it.” Their mother shook her head.

He heard the door open. It didn’t close. He strained his ears to hear what his mother was talking about; it was nearly impossible to hear anything over the sound of Natsuo’s shooting game.

“Inko-”

Shoto was out of the kitchen with a bowl still in his hand, soap dripping to the floor. Izuku hadn’t texted him anything and Inko hadn’t called. Why hadn’t they reached out to him, unless it wasn’t the kind of news that you broke over a phone call.

Inko wore a strained, tired smile. Her eyes weren’t puffy. She had her hand on Izuku’s shoulder, who still wore the same haunted look he had worn the last time that Shoto had seen him. His mouth was pressed into a thin displeased shape. The hand that wasn’t holding a bag, was tugging insistently at Inko’s sleeve, demanding that she look at him so that he could speak.

“Of course, Izuku can stay over.” Rei said. “He’s always welcome here.”

Izuku had always been welcome in their house, though he had never spent the night since that night. Shoto had always stayed at the Midoriya’s instead, keeping Izuku as far away from Dabi as possible.

“Toshinori doesn’t want him at the hospital, and neither do I. And I can’t stand the thought of Izuku being alone in the apartment.”

“Of course, of course. Would you like to come in for some tea?” Rei offered in her most soothing tone. It was the voice that she saved for when she was working with victims of trauma and spousal abuse at the shelter.

“No, I better get going.” Inko apologized, her eyes landed on Shoto. “I was hoping to catch you off of work. You're always working away.”

“He’s a good boy. I’ve told him he doesn’t have to work so hard, but he doesn’t want to listen.” Rei took the bowl from his hand. “Natuso and I will finish up the dishes.”

To his credit, even though he wouldn’t open the door, Natsuo turned off his game and got up without complaint at his mother’s word. They left Shoto alone with Inko and Izuku. The front door still stood open. Inko, ready to depart, and Izuku, unwilling to enter.

“He’ll be staying tonight and tomorrow night. After that, the surgery and the immediate recovery should be over.”

Izuku stepped in front of his mother, dropping his bag to the ground and signed furiously. Shoto picked up his bag. He couldn’t see what Izuku was saying. He didn’t need to.

Inko’s eyes hardened and Shoto knew without a doubt where Izuku inherited his determination. “It was your father’s only request.”

Shoto watched the line of Izuku’s shoulders gradually slope in defeat, his hands falling uselessly to his sides. As a last ditch effort, Izuku looked imploringly over his shoulder at Shoto. They had always stood together against Inko. When they wanted to stay up one extra hour to finish a movie on a school night, or to convince her to cook katsudon instead of tempura chicken.

He didn’t know what Toshinori had requested; whatever it was, it wasn’t what Izuku wanted. Shoto knew it was what Izuku needed. As much as it made his heart warm, that Izuku looked to Shoto to have his back, expected him to always be there, it hurt his heart just as much to shake his head and tell him no. He was on Inko’s side this time.

Izuku might as well have torn Shoto’s heart out of his chest as he stormed past him into the house and turned the corner to the bathroom with tears in his eyes. He made Shoto want to take it back immediately.

“Thank you, Shoto-kun.” Inko sighed. “He won’t stay upset at you long. I promise.”

“What was it that Toshinori requested?” Shoto might as well know what he damned himself agreeing to.

“He wants Izuku to have one last summer day. Whatever happens after tomorrow, Izuku won’t have any more of this summer. Either because he’ll be home helping me take care of his father and getting the last of his summer homework done or...” Inko didn’t finish that sentence. “Toshinori wanted you to have a summer vacation day too.”

“I’ll call my work and tell them that I can’t be in tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Shoto. I can never, ever say it enough.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I will always do anything for him.”

…

Izuku sat listlessly on the couch for the rest of the night as Natsuo played video games. His eyes were on the tv, but he wasn’t seeing anything. He didn’t acknowledge Shoto’s presence. At least, he ate when it was time for dinner. Natsuo, Fumi, and Mother didn’t try to address him more than to ask him if he needed anything. Everyone knew without saying that Izuku needed space. Except for Shoto, who sat right next to him nearly touching the entire time.

“Do you want my futon for the night?” Natuso asked as he powered down his game. It was nearly one in the morning.

Izuku forced a polite smile and shook his head. He patted the couch, the universal sign of I’ll sleep here.

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Natuso disappeared only to bring back an extra pillow and blanket for Izuku. “Night.”

Shoto nodded gratefully at his brother. He picked up the tv remote to turn on a late night anime. He watched Izuku stare at the floor, his fingers half shaping the words that his mind had already moved on from. He set the remote back down on the side table. Shoto would be fine sitting in the dark and the silence.

He planned out the lunch that he would make for Izuku with the ingredients in the fridge. His cooking lessons had continued over the summer. He was deemed a competent cook, enough so that he could be trusted with a recipe book and family dinners once a week.

After he packed their lunch, they would go to the beach. There was no point asking Izuku where he wanted to go. No movie would distract him, an amusement park required him to be further away from the hospital. Shoto would pack extra drinks and towels, sunscreen too. His beach bag was in the closet.

He startled when Izuku suddenly shook him.

‘Go to lay down.’

It was only when Shoto blinked to see if he had read Izuku right, that he realized how heavy his eyelids were. He must have fallen asleep sitting up.

Shoto shook his head, and for the first time all evening, Izuku’s face shifted from an expression other than displeasure. He wasn’t happy, but his eyes still softened, his lips attempted a smile. As small as it was, Shoto knew it was the most genuine one he had seen in awhile.

‘I’m not mad at you.’

“I never said that you were.” Shoto whispered. It was already hard enough seeing Izuku sign in the dark, he didn’t want to strain Izuku’s eyes reading his signs back.

Izuku reached up and smoothed the crease between Shoto’s eyes. ‘You’re very bad at leaving things alone when you think that something is wrong.’

“I guess, I get that from you.”

Izuku rested his forehead on Shoto’s shoulder, his hands balled up in his lap, squeezed so hard that the skin was pulled taut and white across his knuckles. Shoto gently ran his thumb along the top of Izuku’s hand.

‘I know why Mom dumped me on you. I know why Dad wants me to get out and do something tomorrow. I know it. But I’m still angry even though I know I shouldn’t be. I want to be at the hospital, even though I can do nothing other than wait. I’ll be useless there, but at least I’ll be with my family when the worst happens.’

“If.”

Izuku looked up at him confused.

“If the worst should happen.”

Shame washed over Izuku’s face as he realized what he had said. He knew that Izuku must have been thinking that he was wishing for his father’s death. It spoke to how much this summer had weighed on Izuku, how badly he was taking it. Izuku never lost hope, that was his super power, how fiercely he hoped even when everything in the world said it was impossible.

“You need a break.”

Izuku shook his head, tears starting to build.

Shoto grabbed his face and held it still. He forced Izuku to look him in the eyes. If Izuku couldn’t hope for himself, then Shoto would do it for him, until he was able to get his feet back underneath him. “Yes, you do. You need a break, because after your father comes out of that surgery, your mom is going to need all of your help and support. She’s giving you this day so that you can be strong enough to support her when she breaks. You won’t be doing this alone, I’ll do everything that I can do to help you all, but I’m not you, Izuku. Your parents are going to need you. They’re going to need your smile. You need this break.”

His words, so fiercely whispered, hung heavy in the air between them. They were both breathing hard, Shoto catching his breath. Izuku fighting his emotions. Gods, he was so beautiful. Shoto wanted to kiss him. He could kiss him like this, while he cradled his face, their lips inches apart.

He brushed his thumb over some of his freckles and reluctantly let go. “We’re going to the beach tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late.”

Shoto fled to his room.

…

He should have taken his own advice. Shoto didn’t know how many hours he had laid there tossing and turning. He rubbed his eyes for the fifth time in three minutes, and he shoved the last of their beach stuff into the bag.

Izuku folded up the blanket he used and put it with the pillow at the edge of the couch. He still wasn’t himself, but he was at least trying this morning. He wasn’t sure for who’s sake he was, for his mother and Toshinori, or for him. Shoto wouldn’t question it.

They got there early enough that their usual spot on the beach was free. Shoto stripped off his shirt and kicked off his sandals. He was about to dive in when he noticed that Izuku wasn’t following suit. He was staring at the sea with longing and anguish in his eyes.

“Aren’t you going to swim?”

Izuku shook his head. ‘Maybe later. You go on without me.’

Shoto sighed and sat down on the rock next to Izuku. “I’ll wait.”

Clouds hung heavy in the sky, humid with summer rain ready to fall. It would be enough to keep the beaches clear of people.

“Do you think it’s going to rain?”

Shoto liked to think he knew the weather as well as the old fisherman that made their daily pilgrimage to the docks, but he had been wrong before. The mer had a way of reading the ocean and its moods. Besides the time they had gotten caught up in the terrible storm last summer, Izuku was good at predicting the weather. He had taken measures to be even more observant of it, since Shoto’s brief hospitalization.

‘It won’t hit until this evening.’

“We have all day then.”

Shoto’s body started to ache from sitting on the rock. He asked Izuku if he wanted to swim. Izuku said no. He waited until after they ate lunch and asked again. Again, Izuku said no.

“Why not?”

‘It would be unfair if I was happy today.’

“Your parents want you to be happy, Izuku.” He was trying to be patient with him, but Shoto could feel his patience starting to wear thin. He just wanted them both to go swimming.

‘I couldn’t stand it if he died while I was in the ocean. I would never be able to swim in it again without thinking about it.’

Shoto watched as Izuku pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them. Izuku’s phone buzzed. Straight away, his phone was in his hand and both of them had their attention glued to it. Some of the tension bled out of his posture as he typed back a quick reply.

‘Only Shinso in the groupchat.’

“Group chat?”

‘Yeah between me, Ochako-chan, and him. We set it up for that one project during the school year, and we’ve been using it ever since.”

Shoto remembered that project. He had been paired with Iida and Momo. They hadn’t made a group chat.

“Have you talked to them much?” Shoto had gotten one text from Shinso this whole summer.

‘I text them a couple times a week. Sometimes group chat, sometimes not.’

Shoto swallowed but his throat suddenly felt tight. Their text log was a yawning, empty cavern, populated with only the texts Shoto had sent over the summer. He had been mindful, only sending a couple a week, never letting himself get upset when Izuku read the messages and never answered him back. He had Inko to take care of; Toshinori to worry about. It was fine, he told himself. Izuku would get back to him. He never did.

Izuku had been texting Shinso all summer. He had been texting Uraraka all summer.

Abruptly, he stood up. The blood that rushed to his head and pounded in his ears made him dizzy. He could feel the heat of his anger, the same nasty anger that Dabi made, rise to the surface.

‘Shocchan?’

Shoto slashed his hand in a violent, not now gesture and stalked off. He walked as fast as he could without running, his breath hissing out between clenched teeth. He was being stupid. Petty. Childish. Toshinori could die at any second and Shoto was upset that his best friend hadn’t texted him.

His anger grew at the absurdity of his emotions. He was angry at Izuku. He was angry at himself for feeling hurt. For letting this rage simmer. He was angry at Shinso and Uraraka, and they had done nothing to warrant his anger… Well, Shinso hadn’t anyway.

Rather than calming down, his feelings grew hotter, like he could erupt. I’m my father. He thought. It became a chant in his head. I’m my father.

He squatted down and pressed his fingertips together, resting them against his forehead. He tried to calm his breathing, letting himself breathe in time with the surf washing over his toes. It helped, only a little, but it helped.

Shoto took his time walking up and down the beach. He picked up garbage for something to do with the excess energy that had come with the anger. He could go for a swim. That would be cruel to Izuku, even if it was his own choice to stay on land.

Most of the anger had given way to hurt, to a terrible lonely feeling he didn’t want to analyze too much. A small voice, that sounded strangely like Shinso's, insisted that Izuku could be hurting, and still be accountable for his actions. Shoto held on to that thought when he sat back down on the rock. He sat further away than he usually would, keeping a distance between the two of them.

It seemed like neither of them knew how to approach the subject. Eventually, Izuku nudged Shoto with his foot to get his attention.

‘I’m sorry.’

Shoto’s jaw tightened.

‘I shouldn’t have ignored your texts. You’re someone that I don’t have to talk to.’

His temper flared. He didn’t trust his voice so he signed. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean exactly?’

‘I don’t mean it like that. I meant it like, we can sit in silence together and that’s okay. I don’t feel like I have to try to be your friend. It doesn’t feel like I need to be talkative and chipper all the time with you.’

Those words would normally mean the world to Shoto, now, they only poked at that sore spot in his chest. He took his time signing out his words. ‘I accept you as you are. I will always accept you. You don’t have to try with me, but some effort in our friendship would be appreciated. I have feelings too.’

Izuku’s eyes flooded with tears. ‘I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough, but I am sorry.’

He reached out to Izuku. He would always reach out. Izuku shook his head and pushed his arms away. ‘No, I should be the one comforting you. I hurt you.’

Shoto grabbed Izuku’s hands to quiet him and pulled him into his arms. Izuku collapsed against his chest, crying so hard that he couldn’t breathe. Shoto held him all the same, letting him cry over this, letting him cry over everything that had happened over this shitty summer. He had been trying to hold it in for too long.

He rubbed Izuku’s back in soothing repetitive motions. He used two fingers to write on his back ‘I am here’ until Izuku’s tears slowed and his breath evened out. As carefully and as lightly as he could, he pressed the softest of kisses to Izuku’s temple in a movement that could be mistaken for anything else.

…

They never got into the water by the time they returned to Shoto’s apartment in the evening. Natsuo took the couch, letting the boys have the room. Izuku dragged Natsuo’s futon over to be next to Shoto’s. By the time he had fallen asleep, quickly, exhausted by his tears, he had subconsciously crawled from Natsuo’s futon into Shoto’s.

He didn’t even care that Izuku was drooling on his chest. He would gladly die in the morning if he got to hold him like this all night. Shoto studied his face. Izuku looked calm, maybe even a little lighter. He hoped that he had some small part to play in his happiness, even if it was only pleasant dreams from the way his nose was buried in Shoto’s shirt, breathing deeply the scent of fabric softener.

When they stumbled into the dining room the next morning, Izuku was already glued to his phone; he nearly ran into Dabi and Hawks, who had apparently decided to join them for breakfast. Shoto threw his eldest brother a warning look, and guided Izuku to his seat.

“Still haven’t heard anything?” Rei asked softly.

Izuku shook his head.

“No news is sometimes the best news,” She said.

Shoto put a bowl of rice and miso in front of Izuku. Rei passed him a plate of grilled salmon. Izuku smiled and signed thank you. When Izuku took his first bite of salmon, Shoto softly nudged him and signed ‘Cannibalism.’ He reflexively grinned and Shoto grinned back.

They were halfway through breakfast, Shoto spooned more rice into Izuku’s bowl, and Izuku gave Shoto the rest of his miso soup. Neither of them noticed the looks the rest of the table was giving them.

“How come you never give me any of your food?” Hawks said to Dabi.

“Because it’s my food.” Dabi replied.

Izuku’s phone rang. Everyone dropped their chopsticks, including Hawks, who probably had no idea what was going on but was very good at reading the room. Izuku fumbled the phone, nearly sending it into the soup, before he managed to answer it. He put it up to his ear, inhaled, and waited.

Shoto couldn’t hear the words, but he recognized the tone of voice. Even over the phone, he could feel the voice reverberate in his bones. Izuku burst into tears. Shoto sighed and relaxed. He didn’t realize how much tension that he had been carrying.

The phone call was very short, given that it was one sided. Shoto had a tissue ready. Texts flooded in from Izuku’s mom telling him that it was okay to come in during visiting hours today. The hospital had moved Toshinori into recovery.

Shoto was already picking up his and Izuku’s bowls. He knew they were both too wound up to eat.

“Hey, Shoto-kun, Touya can give your boy-” Hawks choked on the overly large bite his boyfriend decided to shove into his mouth.

“Have a bite,” Dabi said dryly. “I’ll give you a ride.”

Shoto frowned, uneasy with the idea of having Izuku alone with Touya. “I’ll see if I can switch shifts today.”

He negated Izuku’s protest with a simple, “I want to see him too. I won’t stay long, I promise.”

Izuku gave Shoto a look when Dabi climbed into the driver’s seat. He couldn’t quite interpret it, he thought it had something to do with ‘Why the heck is your brother here?’

Dabi turned up the radio, giving them privacy, not that they needed it. Shoto drummed his fingers against his leg; it struck him that Shoto didn’t really want to talk to Izuku about his fight with his brother now that he could. For one, it was too much to recount and for two, he didn’t know how to explain his tangled knot of emotion. He left it at a simple ‘I’ll explain it later’ and hoped that never came.

Seeing Toshinori was a blur of tears. He still looked like death warmed up, but there was a spark in his eyes that hadn’t been there last time. Inko explained the surgery and how the recovery process was going to go. It would take months of rehabilitation with frequent visits to check his new medicine and new organs were working. Shoto only caught every other word, too busy watching Toshinori, Izuku, and Inko fawn over each other. He would catch them looking at each other and breaking out into fresh smiles. Shoto smiled just as widely when they caught his eye.

Chapter Text

“We’re back.” Shoto said softly as he gently rapped his knuckles against the doorframe. Their apartment was just how he remembered it, everything exactly as it was, except for some more dust and a spider looked like it had moved into a corner. 

His chest swelled with fondness as he opened the window to let in some fresh air. They were back home, he and Izuku. 

“Wow, this place is tiny!” Hawks exclaimed. Dabi stood behind him holding a bag of groceries, not saying a word as his eyes swept over every corner of the place. 

Good, then leave. Shoto wanted to say, but Hawks was nice. Shoto had no reason to be rude to him. He wished Dabi would say something rude, so Shoto had an excuse to make him leave. He hadn’t wanted anyone to come with them. Afterall, Shoto and Izuku had made the trip to and from Tokyo without adult supervision before; he most certainly didn’t see the point of Hawks and Dabi being here now. 

Izuku stepped through the door and accidentally bumped into Dabi with the large box he was holding. Izuku tried to sign an apology but his hands were full. He tried to bow instead, and the box unbalanced him. Shoto and Hawks jumped forward, keeping most of the box’s contents from spilling on the floor. 

“Don’t apologize to him, Izuku. He’s the one blocking the doorway.” Shoto took the box from Izuku and set it on the floor. 

Dabi didn’t say anything, but he narrowed his eyes. Shoto met his burning look with a cool one of his own. The tension built, until it was like black miasma hanging in the room. 

“Put those groceries away before the cold stuff gets too warm,” Hawks lightly slapped at the plastic bag hanging in Dabi’s hand. 

“You know,” Hawks continued, trying to keep the mood light, “This reminds me of my school days. Except my apartment was in much worse condition than this.”

Izuku jumped at the conversation and Shoto was obligated to translate. Izuku’s phone was packed away in one of their bags. Hawks and Izuku kept the conversation going as they ate their convenience store dinners. It became apparent that Shoto didn’t have to translate too much. Hawks was very good at reading people, and Izuku always had a very expressive face. 

It made Shoto happy and sad as he started to unpack what they had brought with them. Happy that Izuku’s world was continuing to expand, and sad, because once again it felt like Shoto was left behind. He knew that Izuku didn’t need  him to do anything, but he liked to be needed, just a little. 

“You keep a good house.” Dabi said quietly as he finished washing the couple of utensils that they used for supper. 

Shoto studied him from the corner of his eye as he put the dried goods away in the cabinet. He was waiting for the ‘but’. Dabi never handed out a compliment that wasn’t a backhanded insult. He watched Dabi’s jaw tighten, could nearly hear his molars crack, as Shoto remained quiet. 

“Whatever.” Dabi muttered darkly. He turned away to get Hawk’s attention. “Keigo, we’re leaving.”

He didn’t wait to see if his partner followed as he stormed out the door. Hawks stood up with a slow, languid stretch. “The ride back is going to be a nightmare, stuck in the car for several hours.”

“Thank you for coming with us.” Shoto bowed.

Hawks snorted. “Yeah, I could really feel the sincerity.”

Shoto glanced up quickly in surprise; Hawks was smiling. When he saw that he had Shoto’s attention, he bowed in return. “Thank you for suffering us adults tagging along on your trip.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m sure mother put you up to it, wanting to know we’re okay and all.” 

“Your mom didn’t ask us to come. Touya wanted to know where you live in case there was ever an emergency. Izu-kun’s parents still recovering and all.” 

Shoto blinked in surprise. He felt his lips part to say something; he had nothing to say. Dabi wanted to know?

Izuku tugged on Shoto’s sleeve and signed to Hawks.

“He says thank you for buying us groceries.” He repeated 

“Wish I could take credit for that, but again, not me.”

Hawks reached over and ruffled both Izuku’s and Shoto’s hair. “You two stay safe and don’t forget to check in with your families, or else you’ll get another visit from your big brothers, got it? And we won’t be bringing snacks.”

Shoto tilted his head in confusion.

“I’m practically family if someone would get around to putting a ring on it.” Hawks laughed at Shoto’s horrified expression. 

“He’s not so bad, most days.” Hawks said softly. A fond look crossed his face as he glanced at the door. “He tries, and that effort means more than the outcome to me.”

Izuku’s expression remained quizzical. ‘How does that make you my big brother?’

“Are you saying that I wouldn’t make a good big brother?” 

Izuku shook his head frantically at the teasing.

“Like me, you’re practically family too.” Shoto did not like the expectant look that Hawks threw his way. 

Izuku, an over-analyzer of everything, for once didn’t look too much into the statement. Maybe it was because Izuku thought of Shoto like family, like a brother. Izuku remained unaware of the sick feeling in Shoto’s stomach, as he saw Hawks to the door. 

‘I like Hawks. He leaves me feeling exhausted though.’

Shoto mutely nodded. Izuku cocked his head to the side, fingers coming to brush his bottom lip in thought. He wondered what Izuku saw with his perceptive, green eyes as he studied Shoto. Did he see someone desperately, completely in love with his best friend, did he see the guy who’s heart was unsure what to do about the stranger that was also his brother, or did he see a scared kid who was afraid of being left behind for better, brighter people?

‘You can have the first bath.’ His fingers were gentle and his eyes so incredibly soft as he maneuvered Shoto towards the bath. He rested his hands on Shoto’s shoulders for a second, looking at them both in the bathroom mirror. ‘Soak for a while. Relax, okay?’

Shoto turned the bathwater on high, so hot that it nearly scalded his skin when he sank in. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Music drifted from behind the door, loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough to be relaxing. Izuku had turned on their ancient radio.

He inhaled the steam and sighed deeply. He was home. 

…

Shoto broke the surface of the water, breathing in deeply. The alarm on his phone alerting him that it was time to shower and make his way to class. He blinked the drops from his lashes and sighed. 

He wrung out his hair, mentally running over his schedule for the day. He had already had breakfast. Swam his morning routine (perks of being the Captain was that he had a key to the pool and could let himself in anytime). Classes. Lunch. After school practice. Make dinner and tomorrow’s lunch. Homework. 

He had missed this over the hectic summer. Not exactly school, though he didn’t mind it, but the routine and the independence. Like he was starting to feel like he owned his life. It was thrilling, and it was scary. 

He nodded at Bakugo as he passed by him in the hallway. His narrowed eyes were a constant reminder that Shoto couldn’t slip up in anything. Shoto didn’t have to be the best at everything, but he had to be better than Bakugo. Bakugo aimed to be the best. 

Shoto greeted Shinso and Momo as he sat down at his desk. There were a couple of minutes until the bell. He thanked Momo as she handed him a bag with a new shampoo and conditioner for him to try. That was another battle of his, trying to keep his hair healthy and strong while he insisted on spending all of his precious little free time in chlorine. 

“You could just cut it off. It would be easier to take care of.” Shinso said.

Shoto rubbed some damp strands between his fingers. It was something that he had thought about before… “No. I like it at this length.”

There wasn’t a reason. He just liked how it looked, even if it was at times, at odds with the lifestyle he had picked. 

“Mermaid length.” Shinso shook his head.

“How were your summer vacations, Shinso-kun? Todoroki-kun?” Momo asked.

“Went on a vacation with my dads.” Shinso answered.

“That must have been nice! Where did you go?” 

“It was Dad’s turn to pick this year, so the mountains. Next year it’s my turn and I’m going to the beach by myself. Maybe then I can get some sleep.” He glared towards the front of the classroom before hiding his face in his arms. “If either of you tell me what a good time you had swimming in the ocean, I will kill you both.”

Momo laughed. “I was in Switzerland with my grandparents. No beaches there, lots of skiing though. What about you Todoroki-kun, don’t you and Midoriya-kun live right near a beach?”

Shoto nodded. “We do, but I didn’t get much time and Izuku didn’t get any.” 

Shinso gave Shoto a sharp, questioning look under his arm. Shoto chose to ignore it. “Can you go skiing in the summer, Momo? Wouldn’t all the snow be gone?”

Momo talked about her vacation until Aizawa-sensei started class. “Head off your desk, Shinso. If I can’t sleep. You can’t sleep.”

“Fuck,” Shinso grumbled and lifted his head. 

…

They all converged at their normal meeting spot on the roof for lunch. Uraraka sitting next to Izuku’s left, Shinso to his right. There was just enough room for one person between them. Izuku caught his eye and patted the spot next to him, Shinso scooting over just a little more to give him some extra space. It sucked having the person that he loved the most in love with someone else, but at least he wasn’t completely losing his best friend in the process. 

Their group buzzed with conversations about their summer. Asui had split her time between taking her siblings to the pool and  volunteering at her local aquarium. “It’s a good resume builder, and I like to see all the fish.” 

Iida, like Momo, had spent his vacation abroad with his family in Italy. His tan really brought out the color of his hair. 

Uraraka had worked at her parents' construction company and had taken up a part time job in a coffee shop, much to Shoto’s dismay. She put his one part time job to shame. 

“It’s good to have the group back together again! Summer vacation is way too long, especially when your friends don’t text you back.” Uraraka shot a look at both Shoto and Izuku.

“That’s not fair, we all know Todoroki is the world’s worst texter.” Asui defended.

“Okay, but what’s your excuse, Izuku-kun? You hardly texted me all summer, even after you said you would text every day!”

Shinso raised an eyebrow, “Every day?” 

Izuku’s face was scarlett. 

Shoto’s chopsticks paused on the way to his mouth. Was she the world’s most insensitive person?

“He had other things to be worrying about.” Shoto said coldly. “Like looking after his mother while his father was in the hospital all summer.”

All the idle chatter stopped and every face swiveled to look at Izuku and Shoto. Uraraka’s mouth was opened slightly in shock. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry Izuku-kun. Is he okay?”

Izuku gave a sheepish nod before giving Shoto a soft, admonishing look.

‘Was it supposed to be a secret?’ Shoto signed.

Izuku nodded. ‘I didn’t want to cause anyone to worry about me over their vacations. They were supposed to be relaxing.’

Shoto shook his head in protest, but before they could continue their conversation, Iida cut in. “I’m sorry to hear about your father, Midoriya-kun. Is he doing better?”

Izuku smiled and pulled out his phone to type a message into his phone. ‘He’s doing much better now.’

Iida sighed and his stiff shoulders visibly relaxed a fraction. “Good. I know how hard it is to have a close family member in a critical situation. My brother was in a terrible accident two years ago. If you ever want to talk, I know our situations aren’t identical, but please feel free to reach out to me.”

Izuku swallowed hard and nodded. ‘It was hard. I couldn’t have gotten through it without Shocchan’s help.’

“You need to tell us these things so that we can also be here for you, Izu-kun! You can’t put all of the burden on Shoto-kun.”

Shoto narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like what she was implying that he couldn’t handle taking care of Izuku. He also didn’t remember giving her permission to use his given name. 

Izuku looked from Uraraka back to Shoto, a crease between his eyebrows. He pinched his lip between his fingers and the more he stared at Shoto, the more his eyes filled with worry. 

Shoto grabbed Izuku’s hand and squeezed it tight, pulling him close and whispering fiercely, “Don’t you dare ever think that you’re a burden, no matter what anyone else implies. You have never and will never be a bother to me.”

“Um, I’m going to get a juice. Anyone want anything?” Uraraka mumbled. She didn’t wait for anyone to reply, her head hung down low.

Izuku twisted his body, head whipping back and forth between Shoto and Uraraka. It was to everyone's surprise when Izuku got to his feet.

‘You shouldn’t have said that, Shoto.’ Even though there was barely any heat behind his look, it was the first time that Izuku ever admonished Shoto like that. 

Izuku chased after Uraraka while the rest of them sat in silence. Shoto stared at his lunch, his appetite gone. The bite that he had to swallow tasted like ash in his mouth. If Uraraka wanted to date Izuku then she was going to have to work for him. Izuku deserved as much. He wasn’t wrong about this. 

When Uraraka and Izuku returned they both looked like they had had a good cry, and Uraraka was even smiling a little. She had Izuku’s handkerchief clutched in her hand. Izuku gave Shoto a warning look before they sat back down, not that Shoto needed to be warned. All the energy had drained out of him. All he was doing was bringing them closer together, and at this rate, Izuku might not save a seat beside him for Shoto anymore.

…

Swimming practice was hell. His head clearly wasn’t in it. Aizawa gave him a disappointed dad look, which he didn’t even know that his teacher was capable of.

Bakugo caught him in the locker room. “Don’t even bother showing up, if you’re going to waste my time, Captain. Get your shit together.”

Shoto thought very hard about throwing his water bottle at Bakugo’s head. He decided against it, only because there wasn’t enough water in it to make a solid impact. 

As he walked to the school gate, he pulled out his phone to text Izuku that he was on his way home. He wasn’t really looking forward to going home, afraid that Izuku would be mad at him. He hadn’t gotten a clear read on him after lunch, they were so busy in class. Damn their seating chart.

He was so preoccupied that he nearly missed Shinso standing by the school gate. They usually met once a week after school on Thursdays to get drinks at the cat cafe. Shinso probably found it a relief that one human knew his secret, even if they didn’t talk about it often. It was a time where he didn’t have to worry, didn’t have to be careful with what he said. He could just be. 

As for Shoto, he simply enjoyed Shinso’s company. Things between the two of them were simple, as things were getting more complex between Izuku and him. 

But today wasn’t Thursday. 

“Let’s talk.” Shinso’s words were simple, but his tone was not. 

Shoto gripped his bag. “I have to get home and make dinner.”

Aizawa walked past them. “Don’t stay out too late, Hitoshi. And it’s pizza night. You know how your father gets if we’re not all on the couch by nine.”

“Got it.”

They both watched Aizawa continue up the street and turn down the corner that Shinso always turned at. 

“If you come with me. I’ll let you ask one question.” Shinso drawled. 

Shoto held up a finger and shot off a quick text to Izuku telling him he’d be late. 

…

Creamer was back in Shoto’s lap and Shinso had a coffee in hand. Shoto had been thinking of the right question to ask. Asking if Aizawa was his dad would get solid confirmation of what Shoto suspected, but it would only be a confirmation. He wouldn’t be learning anything new. Was Aizawa a mer? That too seemed unlikely, he was around the pool almost everyday, and Aizawa wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk an accident, so that left Shinso’s other dad.

“You have to listen to me before you can ask your question.”

Shoto scowled but nodded. It would give him longer to figure out a better question anyway.

“What you said to Uraraka was out of pocket.” Shinso took a sip of his drink.

“She shouldn’t have been so thoughtless.”

“You shouldn’t have been so harsh. None of us knew that Izuku’s dad was sick.”

Shoto grudgingly could see his logic there. “She implied Izuku was a burden and he’s not.”

Shinso shook his head. “She didn’t imply crap. We all knew that she meant that Izuku can rely on us. We’re his friends too. This isn’t preschool, he can have more than one friend.”

“She did.” Shoto argued. “ You can’t put all of the burden on Shoto-kun.’ Izuku’s problems aren’t a burden.”

“She said that because she was concerned about you, and as I already pointed out, she would like Izuku to rely on her more. It feels good to be needed and useful to a friend. It feels good to you when Izuku needs you, doesn’t it?”

“Izuku didn’t see it that way either. He cried–”

“He cried because he was stressed that you were at Uraraka’s throat. Why would he want to see his best friend behave like that to the person he likes!”

Shoto dropped his head and clenched his fists. The person he likes. Creamer nudged his hand for more pets. “He told you too?”

“Yeah, he told me. And even if he didn’t, it’s obvious.”

Creamer abandoned him when it was clear that she wasn’t going to get the pets she deserved. Shoto watched her go.

“Look, I get that you’re jealous of having a romantic rival.”

Shoto snapped his attention back to Shinso, eyes wide, heart beating hard in his chest. “Don’t tell him. He can’t know. He doesn’t even know that I’m gay.”

Shinso set his coffee cup down in surprise. “You haven’t told him?”

“I haven’t told anyone. I don’t know how you knew, but Shinso, you can’t tell him!” Shoto grabbed Shinso's hand, squeezing tight. He wouldn’t let him leave without promising. He had to understand how important this secret was. 

“Relax, I promise I would never out you or anyone. It’s none of my business.” Shinso said with soft sincerity.

“Promise me you won’t tell Izuku that I love him. I can’t lose him, I can’t!”

Shinso laid his free hand over Shoto’s, squeezing. “I promise.”

Relief crashed over him like a wave, but still tears came. He gripped Shinso’s hand like a life line, clinging to the comfort of the connection when he didn’t know how else to feel. God, he had just told someone for the first time that he was gay. 

Shinso waited until Shoto caught his breath and wiped his face before speaking again. “If you can’t lose him, you’ve got to stop doing this Todoroki. You’ve got to apologize to Uraraka. If you don’t, you’re going to push him away. You’re going to make him choose before he’s ready.”

“He’ll choose her.” Shoto whispered.

Shinso sighed. “I’m not so sure of that, but it’s going to hurt all three of you, if it comes to that. I don’t want to see any of you hurt more than you have to.”

“He doesn’t love me. Of course he’ll pick her.”

“It’s not easy to weigh love like it’s a scale. Romantic, platonic, doesn’t matter. Both kinds feel and love just as much. They both hurt as much.”

He didn’t believe Shinso, but he didn’t want to lose Izuku. He would apologize if that’s what it took. Shoto nodded and let go of Shinso’s hand. 

“Good, I’d hate to do what I had for plan B.” He leaned his chair back on two legs and took a sip of coffee.

“What was plan B?” 

Shinso looked at him seriously over his coffee, the cat-like look when he was weighing someone’s worth. “I guess it’s only fair because I made you spill a secret before you were ready. You know that mer can sing and enchant people right? Well there are mer out there who don’t need to sing to do it. They don’t even have to be in the water for it to work. We’re called Sirens.”

“ ‘Course there are rules. I can only make you physically do stuff. Can’t do anything that requires you to think. I could make you say sorry, but can’t make you mean it.”

“You wouldn’t do that.” Shoto said.

Shinso raised an eyebrow, “I wouldn’t?”

He shrugged. “I just can’t see you doing that.”

“I may make you eat those words someday.” Shinso mumbled, looking oddly self-conscious. His phone went off. “That’s my dads, gotta get home for pizza night, kill me.”

“What about my question?” Shoto asked.

“Save it.”

They walked in silence until it was time for them to go separate ways. “How’d you know I was gay?”

Shinso shrugged. “Takes one to know one I guess, and before you even think about it, you’re not my type, so don’t go getting any ideas. I want to nip that in the bud right now.”

“Sure. Would never dream of it. You’re not Izuku.”

Shinso rolled his eyes. “Thank god he’s oblivious. See you tomorrow.”

…

By the time that he had gotten home, Izuku had already showered. The tips of his curls nearly dry. His homework was done, and he laid spread out on his futon watching a movie. Shoto dropped his bag next to the door; he didn’t even want to think of all the things that he had left to do tonight. His confession– well, his confirmation, had left him drained. Would it always be like this, every time that he told someone this truth about him?

Izuku took one glance at Shoto and paused the movie, giving Shoto his full attention. He felt tears burn in his eyes before he blinked them away. Just tell him. He wanted to, so desperately, but if he ever would tell Izuku, it wouldn’t be now. Now matter how it went, no matter how gentle Izuku was, just one breath, just one sign, and Shoto would shatter. No, not today. He was too fragile.

Izuku’s eyes softened. ‘Udon is in the fridge. It’s the instant kind so it’s not great. I picked up some sandwiches at the combini for lunch tomorrow. You can look over my homework at breakfast if you need to.’

Shoto nodded, still standing beside the door. Izuku stood up and pulled Shoto’s futon down from the closet, laid it out beside his. ‘Do you want to take a bath?’

He had taken a shower after swim practice and though he checked his face a hundred times in the reflection of the train window and using his cellphone making sure that no traces of tears were present, he still felt them. What he really wanted was someone to hold him close, to hold him together and make him warm again. The next best thing next to that was a bath. Shoto nodded again.

Once Izuku settled the futon, Shoto followed him like a zombie to the bathroom. He turned the tap, water pouring out to fill the dry tub. ‘If you need anything, I’ll be just outside the door.’

Shoto reached out and hooked his finger around the Izuku’s bracelet as he passed. Izuku stopped and stood patiently. He didn’t trust his voice so he signed ‘Can you stay?’  

Izuku chewed on his lip as he tracked the small, hesitant movements of Shoto’s fingers. ‘Let me know when you’re in and I’ll come back.’

Shoto crumpled and pressed his fingers to his eyes. Izuku hadn’t pushed for an answer or an explanation. He hadn’t even mentioned a word about what had happened with Uraraka. He hadn’t hesitated to say yes to Shoto’s strange request. 

He undressed and climbed into the tub, not even pulling his hair into a bun. He washed the fresh tears from his face and called out for Izuku. He came in with his phone and a pillow to sit on, taking his post next to the tub. Respectfully he kept his eyes down on his phone as he leaned against the side of the tub, resting his hand, palm up against the edge. 

Shoto choked on more tears and placed his damp hand into his. Izuku interlocked their fingers and squeezed tight. Izuku’s fingernails lengthened, brushing lightly against Shoto’s pulse point. He watched as a bead of water dripped from Izuku’s wrist and trailed down his arm, scales appearing like goosebumps. Shoto wanted to press his lips to the inside of his wrist, following the same trail with soft kisses.  He loved him so much it was nearly impossible to breathe, but all he could do was hold tighter.

“I’ll apologize to Uraraka tomorrow.” For your sake, I’d do anything.

Izuku looked up from his phone into Shoto’s eyes and smiled, soft as syrup. He rested his cheek on their intertwined hands. He couldn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. Izuku’s happiness never needed words. 

…

Shoto and Izuku walked to school together for the first time in what felt like forever. He had to wake up early to get his homework done in time and had to skip his morning swim. They had gotten to their train early, and Shoto had just enough time to slip into a store.

Izuku tilted his head at him as their train pulled out of the station. Shoto held up a pack of pencils and a notebook in answer. 

‘You could have had one of my extras.’

Shoto smiled and brushed his finger against the back of Izuku’s hand. Izuku leaned into Shoto’s left side as the train sped on.

At school, Shoto glanced this way and that as he took off his outside shoes. In his locker several notes were wedged in the free space. Absently, he gathered them up in one hand so he could get to his indoor shoes. 

‘More confession letters?’

Shoto flipped through the pile, barely skimming over the words, the stationary and the painstakingly drawn hearts were enough to cue him in without reading. He thought that all of this would be done with after middle school. He had hardly gotten more than a handful of confession notes their first year in high school. Shoto had just assumed that girls grew out of these kinds of things. Ever since he had been made swim captain it seemed that his popularity had skyrocketed, although Yaoyorozu had pointed out that it probably had more to do with all the first years that had seen him shirtless on their tour.

He and Izuku used to go through the notes in middle school as they ate chocolate. It had been Izuku’s idea to analyze them, since Shoto was at a loss at what to do with them. It was never in mean spirit as they had looked the notes over. Sometimes they would try to guess who the girl was when it was anonymously sent by her handwriting or her word choice. Sometimes they would rate the notes to see which ones were the most effective to create the perfect love note. It had been a game, but Shoto kept his love note to Izuku in the bottom of his closet back at home, under a pair of ugly shoes that Natsuo and Shoto refused to touch.

Shoto could never help lingering over the handwriting hoping that he would recognize the cramped handwriting he saw just this morning when Izuku let him look over his homework. 

“Do you want to look at them?” He held them in Izuku’s direction as he adjusted his heel in the back of his shoe.

Izuku gripped the bottom of his blazer and shook his head. ‘I need to get to class early today. I’m on morning duty!’

Shoto watched him sprint off, wondering what had gotten into him. He heard Uraraka’s voice over the early morning chatter. Shoto was secretly grateful that he wouldn’t have Izuku as an audience for this. 

She was standing with Tsu, smiling brightly talking about a new episode of an anime that she had watched last night. The same one that Izuku had been watching last night before Shoto had interrupted him, if he remembered correctly.

“Uraraka can I speak with you for a second?” He said.

Uraraka's natural smile faltered when she saw Shoto. She quickly recovered, but her smile didn’t look as bright as before. “Hi, Todoroki-kun! What do you want to talk about?” Her voice sounded strained.

“Can we talk somewhere a little more private?”

That was the wrong thing to say. Uraraka’s face turned pale and her cheeks twitched trying to keep her smile in place. She looked around more frantically than before. Her eyes landed on Tsu and she grabbed her friend’s hand tightly. “You can say anything in front of Tsu that you want to say to me.”

He knew that this conversation would be a little uncomfortable for both of them, especially after what happened yesterday, but he didn’t think that his behavior to her warranted this. 

Shoto shrugged. It wasn’t ideal, but he knew that Tsu would be calm and private. “Sure, but could we get out of this area? It’s a little loud.”

Uraraka obliged and stepped into the hallway, walking a few steps before turning around. There were still plenty of people; he could see by the way Tsu planted her feet that they wouldn’t be going any further. 

Shoto stepped closer and pitched his voice low. “I want to apologize for yesterday.”

Uraraka released the breath that she had been holding, her whole body sagging with relief. “Oh thank god!”

Shoto squinted at her in confusion. “What did you think that I was going to say?”

Uraraka laughed and shook her head. “I was worried that your fangirls would eat me alive! And then everything would get even more awkward because I don’t feel–” Nothing she was saying was making any sense. “You know what, don’t worry about it!”

“His fangirls might still be a problem.” Tsu croaked. She nodded to some of the people in the hall. 

“Why do you think that I chose this spot? Plenty of witnesses.” She whispered back. 

“Did you think I was going to hurt you?” His mouth felt dry. Had he in some way suggested that he would be violent with her?

“Oh, no!” Uraraka reassured. “Besides I could take you in a fight if I wanted.”

Shoto nodded, suddenly feeling very confused where this conversation was going. All he wanted to do was apologize, so they could play at being friends for Izuku’s sake. “Do you accept my apology?”

“It wasn’t a very good apology. You didn’t even say what you were sorry for.” Tsu said.

Maybe Tsu coming along wasn’t the best idea. He chose his words carefully. “I am sorry for how I spoke to you yesterday at lunch.”

He could see both of them picking his sentence apart. Tsu opened her mouth to say something but Uraraka put her hand on her shoulder to gently shush her. “Thank you, Todoroki-kun. I accept your apology.”

When she smiled at him this time, it was a polite and guarded thing. It was how he smiled at Dabi when his mother was around. Not fake, exactly, but certainly distant.

Shoto reached into his bag and handed over the package. Uraraka’s eyes lit up at the pink, green, and white mochi. “I wanted to apologize in private so I could give these to you. I didn’t buy enough for everyone.”

“That was thoughtful of you Todoroki-kun. You didn’t have to go this far for me. Thank you!”

Shoto nodded. “See you.”

The bell for class sounded and he was glad that he had gotten that over with.

Chapter Text

Lunch went back to normal, as far as Shoto was concerned; there was no more awkward tension, all of their friend group was getting along. Sharing lunches, comparing notes, lamenting Aizawa’s tests, it fell back into an easy routine that Shoto could appreciate and look forward to during the day. But those peaceful times didn’t last long for him. Swim competition season was upon them, and Shoto was the captain. 

Every spare minute was devoted to the team. He was the example that his teammates looked forward to, so each practice had to be a personal best. When his teammates were down and out, Shoto had to boost them up. If they made a mistake, they turned to Shoto as much as they did to Aizawa. 

Shoto was the first one in the pool and the last one out of it. He stayed long after each practice, working with the weakest members to the strongest members. He’d come home to cold dinners and Izuku in bed. He was up before Izuku stirred to go to the pool first thing in the morning and concentrate on himself, so much time during practice was devoted to others. 

Bakugo had started to show up to his early morning practice, a yawning Kirishima in his shadow. “Like hell I’m letting you get more pool time than me.”

Shoto pulled out the key and let them both in ahead of him, nodding to the janitor as they entered. They swam in silence, in the furthest lap lanes from each other. Kirishima slipped off to the gym to workout before class. Sometimes they did their own thing, other times, like the chlorine ripples could transfer thoughts to one another, they swam in sync. When they were up to it and had the extra energy to burn, they would race. 

During lunch, Shoto found himself at Aizawa’s sleeping bag, asking him for advice or talking strategy. At the beginning, it had been more self-doubt fueled venting. Shoto was convinced that Aizawa and Mirio had made the wrong decision. Nothing about being a leader came easily to him. He said the wrong things when he tried to cheer up his teammates. When his teammates looked for advice, Shoto didn’t know how to give it. He couldn’t begin to put into words how to explain when someone’s swim form was wrong or how to fix it. He only knew that something was wrong, and as far as he knew, it was impossible to transfer a gut feeling and a solution through eye contact alone.

Aizawa listened patiently to all of it, even if he looked like he would rather be asleep. “You can’t captain like Mirio. You just can’t. You’re not him. So don’t try to lay it on thick and bounce around. Be yourself.”

“That’s the worst advice that anyone has ever given. ‘Just be yourself’” Shoto scowled. Has that really worked for anyone outside of American television and movies?

“Then go away and let me sleep, since you know where to get better advice.” Aizawa rolled over and faced the wall. 

Shoto didn’t take Aizawa’s trite advice, but he did stop trying to push himself to smile like Mirio. His cheek muscles thanked him for it. 

…

The first swim competition was away from their high school. It was an unspoken rule that U.A. hosted the bigger competitions as the year wrapped up, culminating in the championship. Traffic was awful; their bus had barely made it in time for them to change into their gear. It put everyone on edge to be pushing it so close. Bakugo seemed downright murderous. He was wired to be weirdly punctual. 

Shoto guided the team through their normal warm ups. One of their fellow second years was up first. This was his first competition. He hadn’t raced his first year like Shoto and Bakugo had. 

“Kaoru.” Shoto grabbed the guy’s attention as he stared at the crowd. His knees were shaking. He looked like he was fighting back tears.

“I don’t think I can do this. Get someone else to swim for me.” 

“We can’t replace you.” They had no one else that could swim for him except the first years, and they weren’t allowed to yet. “I’ve personally trained with you. I’ve seen how hard you worked. I know that you can do this.”

“All the people will be staring at me. I’m going to mess up.”

“You’re part of the team. Do you know what that means?” Shoto asked, making sure to keep his voice low, not to draw anyone’s attention. “That it’s okay if you mess up, because you have the rest of the team to support you. You can rely on us when you’re having an off day, just like I rely on you, and the rest of the team when I’m not at my best.”

He put his hand on Kaoru’s shoulder. “You won’t fail. Besides, the audience won’t really be able to see you with all the churned up water anyway.”

Shoto wasn’t sure that he had said or done the right thing. Kaoru still had tears in his eyes when Shoto moved on to check the rest of the team. In the end, nervous or not, Kauru was on the starting block. 

He was right, his teammate didn’t fail. Kaoru came in second place. Shoto couldn’t help smiling remembering all the progress that he had made in the last couple weeks. He was glad to see that it paid off. His high placement set the mood for the team.

The rest of the competition was a blur until it was his turn on the diving block. He scanned the crowd only once before he got into position. He had hoped to see a head of green hair. 

Shoto leapt, just before he hit the water, he thought he saw a flash of green scales. He knew it was impossible and it was. But that didn’t stop the feeling of doing what he loved the most in the world. Izuku didn’t have to be here, for Shoto to feel close to him. Even though he was the first person to finish, he was the last to get out, wanting to savor the warm stretch of his muscles and the feeling of unbridled joy.

He was completely unprepared for the many hands of his teammates dragging him out of the water, congratulating him, patting him on the back. It felt different from all those times in middle school. A sense of community, that’s what he was feeling. It surprised him how precious it felt, not restraining, not holding him back, but holding him up.

They won some races and lost some races. Bakugo won most valuable swimmer this time around, but Shoto was ready to take that title from him at the next swim meet. Their team had come in second, barely edged out by Shinketsu. 

“We’ll murder those bastards next time.” Bakugo snarled from the seat across from him.

“Yeah, we will.” Shoto agreed.

He thought that was the only conversation that he and Bakugo would have. As the bus lulled into quiet, exhaustion seeping in and music humming through headphones, Bakugo inclined his head towards Shoto. “You did well with that extra.”

“Which extra?” Shoto looked up from texting Izuku about the results. He had been promised a hug when he got back, and Shoto would rather daydream about that than figure out who Bakugo meant. 

“Our first swimmer.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to learn your own teammates names.” 

“Shut the fuck up. They’re lucky that I bother to notice them.”

“Thank you.”

“Hah?” How could one syllable sound so aggressive?

“You said ‘I did well’ so thank you.” Shoto said.

“I wasn’t complimenting you. I was expressing surprise. I still think Aizawa made a mistake. I thought for sure that you would crash and fail.”

Shoto had been inclined to agree with Bakugo earlier that Aizawa had made a mistake, but now he wasn’t so sure. He remembered the smiles of his teammates.  Maybe their coach had a point that he wanted to make.

“Whatever.” Shoto sighed. Izuku was texting him how they would have cold soba for dinner in celebration when Shoto’s phone buzzed again. 

An unknown number texted him. Good job.

Shoto considered texting back for a split second. It could be from anyone about anything, but it would be a big coincidence that someone texted him right after his first swim meet as a captain’s who’s team took second place and who won his own match. It could be anyone. It could be his father, even though the man would never deign in this lifetime to tell Shoto that. He always wanted Shoto to follow in his martial arts footsteps instead of swimming. True strength came from brute strength against your opponent, not outrunning them, which is essentially what Enji thought of swimming. 

He didn’t text the number back. While it probably wasn’t his father, he had everyone who’s opinion mattered to him saved in his contacts. 

…

Their first swim meet was no fluke. They took first and then second and first again. Shoto’s personal swims followed that same pattern. Each of his teammates continued to grow, taking higher medals, or like Bakugo, staying undefeated. 

Each time Shoto climbed out of the pool, hands were ready to help him up, squeeze his arm or shoulder in congradulations. The warm feeling of connection bloomed in his chest each and every time. So many ties that connected him to other people.

Threads from every person on the team that trailed Shoto out of the competitions and followed him to practice, and then to lunch, and into the classroom too. Teammates would stop for something as small as saying ‘hello’. If Shoto had been a fish in a bowl all of his life, suddenly, he was a fish tossed in the ocean. He couldn’t help but be awed and afraid as his life was flung into open water. 

His teammates weren’t the only ones high on their wins, it infected the school, and the other teams. Shoto didn’t know if it had always been like this, U.A. was one of those schools that always won, but surely this feeling was different this year? 

The track and field team were winning, so were basketball, baseball, archery, and their martial arts groups. He and Izuku didn’t have much time to eat together, but they both ate like kings. There were leftovers from nights out after a win. There were also painstakingly put together dinners that they made for each other to acknowledge their best friend's effort. 

Shoto had this niggling feeling in the corner of his mind that something had to go wrong. U.A., the swim competitions, his personal record, something had to come down soon. It couldn’t stay that way forever. He wasn’t a little kid, he knew better. 

Some more of their teammates had joined in on the early morning practices. Kaoru waved goodbye as he exited out of the locker rooms, a fit of giggles erupted outside of the door. That was something else that was new, that made this year feel different. A group of girls, but also some guys, had taken to waiting outside of the gym complex when the swim team finished up practices, and not only the afternoon ones; they showed up before classes to the early swims too.

“Why do you think they do it?” Shoto asked.

Bakugo frowned, cleaning the water thoroughly out of his ears before he put his hearing aids back in. Shoto nodded towards the door to be more specific.

“You’re kidding right? You’re that dense?”

Shoto’s face showed that he was not kidding, and in all aspects sincere.

“They want in your pants.”

Shoto had gotten better at understanding Bakugo through their talks on the bus rides back to school. Bakugo was excellent at measuring the strengths and weaknesses of other swimmers. Mainly that’s all they would talk about, strategy. Yet, sometimes, like now, their conversations would slip into foreign territory. They were talking to each other, not as rivals or swimmers, but as people. It was an uncomfortable thought to consider Bakugo as a person, after he had bullied Izuku in their early childhoods. Shoto felt guilty, like he was betraying Izuku in some way, even though the two had come to their own understanding at the beginning of school. 

Still, this time he had to parse out what Bakugo meant. Without Kirishima present to translate, it took him several long seconds.

“You mean that they want to date me?” Shoto said slowly, like when he was answering a problem in English.

“I meant sex, but yeah, I guess some of them want to be Mrs. Todoroki Shoto.” Bakugo answered.

“But why?”

“You’re attractive and a winner. You’re calm and good with the team. You’re checking off every shojo love interest box.” Bakugo slammed the door of his locker a little too loudly. “And they’re after me, because not all of them have shit taste.” 

Shoto twisted his towel in his hand. He didn’t want to be anyone’s love interest, except Izuku’s. It was sort of like the end of middle school all over again. Well, if they decided to bribe him with chocolate again, at least he had that to share with Izuku, and he supposed, his other new friends. 

Bakugo barked. Maybe it was supposed to be a laugh. “Those stupid extras, they don’t know they don’t have a snowball's chance in hell.”

…

Izuku tapped on the edge of Shoto’s desk. ‘Want to have lunch together? You, me, and Shinso?’

Shoto glanced over at Uraraka holding her bento, head leaned in close to talk with Mina, Hagakure, and Tsu. Iida was deep in a one-sided conversation with their teacher. Momo and Jirio were walking together out the door. 

Shinso had his head down in his arms, but he had one eye cracked open watching Izuku. 

Out of all the lunch sign language lessons, Iida was doing the best, he clearly put the most practice in. Then it was Momo, no surprise that she would catch on quickly, then Tsu, and lastly Uraraka. Which proved to Shoto even more that she was not a fit partner for Izuku, but he held his tongue. They communicated fine enough through texting, pointing, and their expressive facial features.

Shinso was the only one that didn’t actively join in, but the way he watched Izuku, by the way he hardly ever looked lost, Shoto suspected that Shinso knew sign language very well, if not better than all of the others combined. He just didn’t choose to express that he knew. 

“Sure.” Shoto said out loud for the benefit of Shinso. “Want to eat here in the room?”

“Let’s go somewhere else,” Shinso replied, picking up his bento, leading him and Izuku out the door. 

They settled in a little used stairway. It was getting too cold to want to sit out on the roof. It meant that swim season was coming to an end soon, if the fliers tacked to every available bulletin board hadn’t announced the swim championship being hosted as U.A. in a couple of weeks time. 

Shoto opened his bento, taking a piece of egg. There was rice seasoned with furikake, a couple strawberries, and bean sprouts. Cleaning out fridges did not cohesive meals make. He chewed slowly. It was tasty.

Izuku had the exact same meal; he started with his strawberries. Shinso unwrapped a curry bun. It was quiet as they ate, chopsticks clicking, the clink of Shinso’s metal thermos of black coffee being placed back on the stairs. The bags under his eyes had gotten darker. It would be time for him to go back into the water soon and get some rest. 

“Are you going to take a sick day?” Shoto asked.

He lifted one shoulder up and down. “We have a break coming up soon. I can tough it out until then. I don’t want to miss class and become even more behind.”

Shoto shared a concerned look with Izuku.

“I can let you have my key to the pool?” Should he even need one? Aizawa was, well… he had never found out exactly who Aizawa was to Shinso.

“Sure, if the chlorine didn’t nearly choke me, are you going to erase the camera footage?” Shinso replied dryly. 

Izuku typed on his phone, volume up so they could hear the key sounds. ‘You can come over and use the tub. It’s very deep.’

Shoto let himself drift out of the conversation, watching the two mer converse without really listening. How many humans could say that they had sat between two supernatural creatures, eating bean sprouts? He let himself compare the two, seeing if he could spot similarities. Letting himself drink in Izuku, while he was distracted. It had been awhile since he really, truly, looked at his best friend. They both had been so busy and when you lived with someone everyday, it was easy to take their appearance for granted.

Izuku scratched the back of his neck absently. His skin was red with irritation and underneath that, dry. He looked at Shinso’s skin, and while pale from insomnia, his skin wasn’t dry. His hair wasn’t lacking luster. The skin around his nails wasn’t peeling and Shinso wasn’t licking his chapped lips. 

The conversation has shifted from a bath invitation, to the quality of different bodies of water, and Shoto couldn’t remember the last time that he had seen Izuku take a bath. He thought back hard. Recently, Izuku had been bathing well before Shoto had got home from training. 

Shoto wracked his brain for details. He remembered the smell of soap. Sometimes Izuku’s curls were still damp because his hair took forever to dry. But had the tub been wet? Had Izuku been taking proper baths?

Was he afraid that he would enchant Shoto again?

He was opening his mouth to ask when a soft voice went “Ahem.”

Three sets of eyes went to the girl standing in front of them. Her eyes were glued to Shoto. 

“Hello?” He said, after Izuku nudged him with his foot.

“Todoroki-san, will you go out with me?”

This was direct, even by Shoto’s standards.

“No.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Shinso spoke up, “Go on. He’s not going to change his answer.”

“Why? Is it because he loves someone else?” She directed her question at Shinso, which was strange because Shoto was sitting right there. The object of her affections. An object.

“I do.” Shoto answered, frigid. “And it will never be you.”

He brought bite of rice to his mouth and ignored her as she left. Even if a rumor went around about his cold treatment of her, a voice that laughed like Bakugo, said that it wouldn’t matter. Hell, it might even increase his popularity.

“Really?” Shinso drawled. “Did you have to tack on that last part?”

Shoto raised and dropped one shoulder.

Izuku wrung his hands, his lips pursed, eyebrows pulled together. 

He hated that the girl had ruined the mood and made Izuku anxious, even unflappable Shinso seemed a little put out.

‘What kind of girl do you like?’ Izuku blurted out of the blue.

“Why do you want to know?” Shoto’s stomach dropped to his feet.

“He likes someone cute, almost baby-ish. Big moe eyes, soft cheeks, cur-” 

Shoto kicked Shinso hard. If anything this seemed to ratchet up Izuku’s anxiety. His fingers shaped half-formed words before dropping them, starting, and dropping again.

He knows.

“Don’t listen to Shinso.”

He knows. He knows.

‘Shinso knows what kind of girls that you like?’

“Ah.” Shoto paused. “Yeah.”

Izuku’s next words were barely a whisper. ‘And I don’t?’

His eyes were shiny, his lips wobbly, and his expression stricken.

“You never asked.” Shoto’s voice was even softer than Izuku’s and his words made sound. He was perplexed at why Izuku was reacting how he was, and guilt ridden that he was the one to put it there. But Izuku had never asked, and Shoto was never going to bring it up for obvious reasons, yet, a very, tiny, small part of him couldn’t help but hope. “Why do you want to know?”

‘Because I should know these things as your best friend. All I want you to be is happy. You can have any girl that you want, and I want to help you find her. It’s my duty as your best friend to safeguard your happiness. You’re not avoiding going out with someone because of me, right? Because that’s silly! I want to help you find her, no matter what. Unless she doesn’t like me or you think that I’m getting in the way, I’ll stop. So what about that girl in class B? Kendo. She’s a leader and dependable like you. Wait, Shinso said that you like someone cute. What about someone like Hado-san? She’s graduated, I know, but someone like her.’

He stopped paying attention. He couldn’t focus on Izuku’s fingers. She and her and not me , not him . It would never be him for Shoto. It would be Izuku and Uraraka, or Izuku and whoever else he fell in love with down the road. This didn’t surprise him, and yet it still hurt.

 It made him smile. Grief could be funny like that, not funny because he wanted to cry, but his cheeks twitched against his will and pulled into a smile anyway. He felt so cold that it was almost a relief. How many times would this wave crash over him, again and again? New and icy for only a moment, before he grew used to it and it almost felt warm against his numbed heart. 

‘After all, anyone would love you? How could they not? You’re handsome and human and honest. Whoever you set your sights on, just tell me. I’ll do everything I can do to support you. Tell me about your crush.’

It was never the fact that Izuku was jealous of Shoto being in love with someone else. It was only the fact that Shinso knew before he did. 

“The only reason I told Shinso is because I’m gay and he’s gay.”

Izuku’s eyes widened as his gaze darted between the two of them, finger pointing back and forth in time.

“Don’t say it like that.” Shinso complained, picking up on the question before Shoto realized there was a question being asked. “We’re not an item. Never will be. Just two guys in a very sad, very gay, support group.”

“I thought we were friends?”

Shinso ignored him and took a long pull of his coffee.

Izuku’s shoulders relaxed, his eyes were far away, considering something intently. Shoto’s heart was in his throat, again. He wanted to choke on it, so he could stop thoughtlessly blurting out he was gay in the worst ways. 

What if he was wrong, so terribly wrong? What if Izuku outright wanted to stop being friends with Shoto. He’d probably drop out of U.A. completely if he had to see Izuku’s disgust. That, he could understand. He could even accept that reaction if it came down to it. It would hurt like nothing else had ever hurt Shoto in his life. It would be a clean break.

But Izuku wasn’t like that. It was more likely that he would smile at Shoto. He would say it’s okay, then they would never ever bring up the subject of Shoto’s predicament. Their friendship wouldn’t change at face value. It would be the little things that changed. There would always be a third friend in their conversations. He would stop touching Shoto. If their fingers accidentally brushed, he’d jerk his hand away. There would certainly be no more precious hugs. Izuku would ask Shoto to get his own place, but make it about something else entirely. I thought you would want your own space or I wanted to invite Ochako over or actually the weight regulations for this building are blah blah and they need to evict someone and the apartment is in my father’s name. 

The sound of seashells caught his attention before the sensation of Izuku’s rough hands on his. How could Shoto not have noticed how dry his hands were? Izuku squeezed.

‘I have to redo my list of dateable candidates for you. Someone cute with big eyes. I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head, but that won’t stop me from looking!’

Shoto didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out the hand lotion that he carried. If he discretely wiped the corner of his eye, no one was the wiser. He dropped into Izuku’s lap. “Don’t worry about my dating life. I’m perfectly happy as I am.”

Shinso made a disbelieving sound in the back of his throat that he covered by pretending to choke on his lunch. 

“Focus on you, Izuku.” Shoto said, even if the words killed him.

It was time for Izuku to be embarrassed. Wasn’t so easy being on the receiving end was it? The odd look that Shoto couldn’t quite place early was replaced by another look. Not embarrassment. Toya’s face came to mind when he tried to apologize, and that connection didn’t make any sense. 

Izuku waved his hand in front of his face dismissively, leaning into the ‘I can’t speak’ thing like he didn’t just monologue. He squirted a healthy dollop of lotion in his hand and worked it between his fingers. He brought it to his nose and inhaled. 

‘Caramel?’ Izuku gave him a quizzical look.

Shoto looked back equally confused. He normally didn’t buy scented lotion. Then it came to him. “Bakugo gave it to me. Said chlorine was hell on the skin and if I continued wanting to look like a ‘doll bastard’ I better take care of my skin. I think it’s the kind that he uses.”

“Chlorine is hell on the scales.”

That got an enthusiastic nod from Izuku, not that Shoto had ever seen him in a pool ever. They sprang back into debate about different types of water while Shoto forced more lunch into his mouth. 

The conversation between Izuku and Shoto died out. Not that he minded. He needed a break from Izuku as much as he hated to admit it. Math would be the perfect subject to get his mind off the crisis he narrowly averted. Izuku looked like he would rather be left alone in his own thoughts, as he absently tugged on his lip. 

The only one who was getting out of this conversation unscathed was Shinso, and Shoto wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Shinso, who’s your crush?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“You said that I had one question.”

“And you’re really going to use your one question on that.”

Shoto glared at Shinso. Shinso stared blankly right back, giving nothing away. Would he really use his one question just to make Shinso a little uncomfortable?  

‘Ooooh, yeah, Shinso. Who’s your crush?’ Izuku waved his phone screen under Shinso’s nose.

“I don’t have a crush.”

‘You said ‘you’re not telling’ to Shoto first. If you didn’t have a crush you would have said that.’

Shoto flashed a quick grin at Shinso. He didn’t even need to waste his question while Izuku was around. Shinso made a rude hand gesture at Shoto.

“See, I knew you knew sign language.”

Izuku and Shoto kept up their barrage of questions, relentless as they ate the last bites of their lunch and put their bento boxes away. It was a technique that they had perfected as eight year olds that worked on everyone from Izuku’s Mom to Fuyumi, who taught small children. 

‘Tell us your type.’ Izuku weedled.

“Fine.” Shinso snapped. “Stupid blonds.”

“Stupid blonds in our class. That basically narrows it down a lot.”

“How do you know he’s in our class?”

“How else do you know he’s stupid?”

“Anyone can be stupid. You don’t have to look long to tell.” Shinso made a point to give Shoto an obvious look.

“I’ll figure it out.” Shoto said. “My hair is good at finding secrets.”

Shinso and Izuku laughed.

“What?”

“It's supposed to be ‘Your hair is so long it’s full of secrets.’”

Izuku reached over and squeezed Shoto’s hand again as he tried to wipe the laughter from his face. Shoto squeezed back.

…

After practice, Shoto showered and ran straight home, nearly defeating the purpose of having a shower in the first place. He needed to get home before Izuku got back from his practice. Izuku never showered at school for obvious reasons. It would be the first thing he did when he got home. 

Shoto touched the tub, paranoid, to make sure that it was bone dry. He touched the floor and the sink and the towels. Everything was dry. If he took a bath then it would get wet and humid on all the surfaces. He knew it wasn’t a fool proof plan. Izuku could always run the bath but not get in it. It was wasteful, but if he was that desperate to keep his ruse, then he would. 

The opening of their living room door startled Shoto, him standing in the bathroom doorway startled Izuku. Belatedly, Shoto knocked their familiar rhythm on the doorframe.

‘You’re home early.’ Izuku commented. 

“Yeah,” All excuses that he could think were born and died on his tongue. He hated lying to Izuku. “I just… wanted to be home.”

Izuku gave him a soft, understanding smile. ‘Yeah. Take a break for once.’

“Pot meet kettle.” Shoto replied absently. 

Izuku snorted and waved Shoto’s comment away. ‘Please, it’s not everyday that you come out to someone. That takes a lot of bravery, even if that person is your best friend.’

With all of his worrying, plotting, and planning, during his classes, he had almost completely forgotten the lunch conversation.

Izuku must’ve misunderstood the look on Shoto’s face. He reached up and cupped Shoto’s cheeks with both of his hands and rested their foreheads together. If he focused his eyes, Shoto could count Izuku’s eyelashes. If he unfocused his eyes all he could see was green, how Izuku looked to him underwater with no googles. 

“Please…” Shoto begged. Please hold me like this forever. Please don’t touch me like this, I can’t take it. Please kiss me. “Go take a bath.”

Izuku rubbed more of his dried sweat on Shoto’s forehead to be a menace. Shoto shoved him into the bathroom. It went back and forth, play fighting until Izuku tossed his bag into Shoto’s hands and closed the door laughing. 

Shoto rested his forehead against the door, he could still feel the lingering warmth. Izuku’s music blasted through his phone. Shoto listened past the k-pop. He heard the water running, but it didn’t go for very long. 

His fingers rested on the knob, wanting to open it. Finding no excuse to, he dropped his hand back to his side.  Izuku loved water so much that to deny it to himself, something had to be terribly wrong. Was this a form of self harm?

Was this what Shoto was made of? When his best friend was hurting in a way that he didn’t understand. He couldn’t open a door?

Shoto chewed his lip. It wasn’t as black and white as that.  If it were as obvious as that, he would tear down the door. Shoto didn’t have all the details. There could be a very reasonable explanation for Izuku’s behavior. Instead, he listened for a couple minutes more and failing to hear any water, he went to cook dinner with clenched fists. 

When Shoto went to brush his teeth that night, after making sure that Izuku was single mindedly focused on homework, he touched the tub. It was dry. The sink was wet and there was a crumbled up wash cloth on top of the laundry. 

Maybe he should call Inko and Toshinori. He shook that thought off. It was too late, they would both be asleep. That and he only had a suspicion and this one day as proof. Shoto needed to watch longer to see if it was indeed a pattern or just a freak one off occurrence. It felt like both the right and the wrong thing to do.

Chapter Text

Kaminari leaned against Izuku’s desk avidly explaining a new anime about superheroes. They had been paired up before for an English assignment to write about something pop culture, as was Mic-sensei’s way of making class interesting. Both of them had found a hobby in common, and that had started their classroom chats. 

“I don’t think you should push it.” Shinso said, chin propped on his hand as he watched Kaminari gesticulate.

“Aren’t you worried too? He’s not taken a bath in over a week.” Shoto hissed, “That can’t be good?”

“It’s not a great sign, no.” Shinso admitted. Finally giving Shoto his full attention. 

“Can’t mer die if they don’t get in the water for so long? Even humans need so much water to stay healthy.”

“We don’t die. But…”

“But?”

Shinso pressed his lips together.

“Shinso.”

“ Just drop it, okay!”

Shoto’s mind went blank. He forgot what he was going to say next.

“Shit, sorry.” Shinso rubbed the back of his neck, looking aggrieved. 

Shoto blinked, his focus coming back to him along with a faint headache. “It’s, uh, fine.”

Shinso leaned his head back and sighed. “It’s not. I’m in a bad mood because I haven’t been sleeping well and I don’t mean to take it out on you. I might have to take winter break early. I can barely think straight. Don’t make a stupid gay quip.”

Shoto nodded.

“Look, I don’t feel like it’s my place to tell you. It’s Izuku’s business and if I tell you, you’re just going to freak out.”

“So, it is bad?”

“I mean, it’s not great.”

“Shinso, I’m just going to freak out even more if you don’t tell me.”

Shinso ran his fingers through his hair, staring hard at the floor. The bags under his eyes were creased and deep. If Shoto pushed him a little harder… sleep deprivation made decision making difficult.

Shinso pitched his voice down to a whisper. “It’s only a rumor, okay. I don’t know if it’s possible. But there is a legend that if a mer spends enough time out of water that we can dry up, for good. We become effectively human.”

Shoto stood up only to be abruptly pulled back down in his chair. “Why would he be doing this?”

“Fuck if I know. It’s obviously something deeply personal, and he’s not doing it lightly. Drying up is slow agony. You just can’t be a bull in a china shop about this.”

“I can’t sit by and do nothing.” Shoto watched Izuku slowly exaggerate a sign as Kaminari made wild guesses to what it meant. All Shoto could see was the way his hand dragged, like he was more than just tired.

Izuku caught his eye and smiled warmly at him. Shoto couldn’t tell anymore if it was real. 

“Hey, what are your plans for winter break?” Kaminari asked, pulling Izuku’s attention away.

Izuku picked up his phone and typed his reply. Shoto already knew that they would be heading home to see their families, as part of the agreement that they had made in the summer with their parents. Then Shoto could talk to Inko and Toshinori and together they could work this out.

“You’re going to a training camp in the mountains? Is that the same one that Kirishima is going on too?” Kaminari groaned. “Man, I bet that’s going to be so fun.”

Shoto stared. This was the first that he was hearing of Izuku going to any training camp. Winter break was in a week. The last time he and Izuku had talked, they were trying to decide on what train they were going to take home. Izuku hadn’t brought it up.

Why hadn’t Izuku brought it up?

Their teacher walked in and their classmates returned to their seats. Izuku didn’t look over as class started. Shoto couldn’t catch his eye. By the end of class, Shoto hadn’t written down one note. He kept analyzing all of his and Izuku’s previous conversations. Maybe he had missed something? Hell, he even thought back to see if Bakugo had mentioned anything in the way of Kirishima, but that led to nothing too. 

Did Inko give her permission? She was the one who had come down the hardest after their cave disaster. He was doubtful that she would have easily given in unless Toshinori had stepped in. They were probably being lenient after all the time that Izuku had spent in the hospital with his father. It would be just like Toshinori to say that Izuku needed to enjoy his youth and make memories with friends. 

When was Izuku planning on telling him? When they got to the train to leave, Izuku would, what, wave and tell him he’d see when school started again?

He was distracted during practice. He opted to stay out of the water to give feedback to his teammates. Which led to Bakugo telling him off and taking over. Even Aizawa looked a little frustrated with Shoto and told him that he could go home early. 

The thoughts didn’t stop running around in circles. At home, he paced back and forth, drumming his fingers against his lips. Inko and Toshinori wouldn’t let Izuku go to the camp if they had any idea of how Izuku was hurting himself. Shinso said it was a slow agony. 

Shoto would have to tell Inko and Toshinori. They would put a stop to it. Izuku would be upset. 

That thought stopped him in his tracks. It was like he was standing outside of the bathroom door again. Would he keep standing there and doing nothing? 

Seashells clinked in Shoto’s ears. Izuku looked at him in concern, his wrist next to Shoto’s ear. He hadn’t heard Izuku knock or come in. 

‘What’s wrong?’

Shoto swallowed. Should he ask about the training camp? Should he ask about the dry bathtub? He swallowed again.

‘Is everything okay? You’re back home early again from practice. Are you hurt?’ Green eyes raked over his body in concern. His eyes flicked back to Shoto’s and stayed there. ‘Did something happen at home? Is everyone okay?’

“No. Something is wrong.” Shoto whispered. “Home. We need to go home.”

Izuku’s eyes widened in surprise, but he nodded. They didn’t have school on Saturday. They could leave right now and go home for the weekend. Everything would be better when they got home.

They packed quickly. Each of them not taking much more than their backpacks full of homework, a change of clothes, their wallets, and phones. 

Everything would be okay when they got home. Things could go back to the way that they were. Izuku would talk to him again. They could go for swims and stay up all night watching tv. 

Izuku reached up and tucked Shoto’s head into his shoulder, carding his fingers through Shoto’s hair. He didn’t ask more on the subject, sensing that he probably wouldn’t get much coherence from Shoto’s distress. Shoto buried his face into Izuku’s skin, hiding his blind eye. How many people would let Shoto hide himself? How many people would drop everything and follow him on one sentence and nothing more?

Shoto let out a shaky exhale. He wished he could put words to all of his feelings and fears. Izuku shifted and took Shoto’s wrist, writing character after character. ‘Rest, I’m here. I’ll take care of you.’

Shoto let himself sink deeper into the bubble that had wrapped around them both. The train was quiet. Outside the world was dark. Izuku’s skin was warm, nearly feverish.

When they stepped off the train, panic flooded his system. What did he do now? Should he call his mom? Call Izuku’s mom? He could feel Izuku’s eyes on him, guileless. Waiting. He took Izuku’s hand and followed his feet to where they always went.

Izuku’s feet stumbled over the sandy boards of the pier. He didn’t pull his hand away to ask questions. There was no one in sight. No fishermen, no tourists, no one except them. The moon was a half crescent in the sky. 

Shoto breathed in mouthfuls of the salty air, gulped it down. His feet felt unsteady underneath him, or maybe his head didn’t feel so attached. He grabbed Izuku by his shoulders and held on. Izuku grabbed his elbows and steadied him. Izuku’s eyes flit back and forth between Shoto and the sea. 

The minutes ticked by and Shoto felt himself settle. Izuku uncurled his hand from Shoto’s elbow and signed. ‘Are you okay? Can we go?’

He wasn’t looking at Shoto as his fingers formed the words, he was staring deep into the water. His whole body twisted towards it while his feet stayed firmly in place. He couldn’t be aware of the longing on his face, the way that his eyes glowed, the way that his head tilted so he could listen to the sound of the waves. 

“Let me have your jacket.” Shoto said. “I’m cold.”

Bemused and distracted, Izuku put his bag down and shed his jacket. It was freezing, the forecast was calling for snow. Shoto took his jacket with his phone, keys, and wallet. The rest of his clothes could afford to get wet. He’d replace anything that needed to be replaced. 

Shoto hooked his foot behind Izuku’s ankles and pushed him in the chest. Izuku’s eyes went wide as he fell back towards the water. For a moment, it was a different day. Overcast, no one else on the beach afterschool. Izuku had tripped after Shoto had warned him not to walk backwards. Izuku’s hands splayed open, trying to grab on, to keep from falling in the water. 

He landed with a glorious splash. The water instantly freezing Shoto where it touched him. He wasn’t worried when Izuku didn’t resurface. He knew his best friend’s secret this time. 

Izuku came up furious, a cork released from a shaken champagne bottle. “Why did you do that?!”

Because I had to. Because you needed it. Because I didn’t know what else to do.

Izuku grabbed the edge of the wood and started to haul himself up. Shoto dropped to his knees and shoved Izuku back in. It felt like two kids fighting over the best spot on the couch but with higher stakes. Shoto grabbed Izuku’s hands so he couldn’t climb up, teetering dangerously over the water. 

“Stay in the water.” He begged.

Izuku’s tail slapped the water in frustration. He bared his teeth, so much sharper than Shoto had ever seen them. He looked, for a second, like he wanted to yank Shoto in, drag him down to the bottom. Shoto’s heartbeat ratcheted up and he squeezed Izuku’s hand’s tighter. Loving him and fearing him and wanting him. 

Just as Shoto had shoved Izuku, Izuku shoved Shoto hard enough that he landed on his back, safe on the wooden deck. It hurt, and for another time that evening, Shoto was briefly somewhere else, somewhere he didn’t want to be. A rubber mat with the wind knocked out of him.

“Why did you push me in the water, Shoto!”

“Why have you been avoiding getting into the water, Izuku!” Shoto sat up and shouted, matching anger with anger. 

Izuku clearly wasn’t expecting him to respond by yelling, or he was surprised that Shoto knew that he had been avoiding the water. 

“Why are you trying to dry yourself out? Why would you hurt yourself like this?”

Izuku’s lip trembled. He was furious, his eyes were filling up. Izuku hated that he cried when he was angry. “You wouldn’t understand.”

At least he hadn’t tried to deflect or lie about it; it still hurt.

“I can’t understand if you don’t talk to me about it.”

“You can’t understand because you’re human!”

“That’s not fair of you.” Shoto bit back the rest of his anger and tried again. “Fine, you can’t come to me, you’re still not alone. You have Shinso. You have your mom.”

Izuku stubbornly refused to meet his eye.

“You love the ocean and the water and swimming–”

“No, you love those things. I don’t. I would give them all up to not be like this.” He muttered.

“Not to be a mer?” Shoto reeled from Izuku’s confession, He could barely string together a coherent thought.

“Who could love a fish, Shoto? I’m a freak!”

Shoto dug his fingernails into the wood until his knuckles went white. “Do you not love me for being gay?”

Izuku flinched from the savage tone of the question. The moonlight from the waves bounced back into his eyes, wide and shocked. 

“Who could love me, right? I don’t deserve it.”

“Stop it.” Izuku put his hands over Shoto’s, instantly numbing his skin. “How could you ever think that?”

“Because homosexuality is a disease.”

“It is not! There is nothing wrong with who you are!”

“And there is nothing wrong with who you are! I can’t change me being gay, anymore than you can change you being a mer! Why do you want to change who you are?” 

Who could love a fish?

“Is this about Uraraka?” Shoto asked.

Izuku let go of Shoto’s hands and turned his face away.

“Have you told her about you?”

“I don’t want anyone to know.” The shame was so thick on his tongue that Shoto could feel the shape of it on his own.

“If you’re afraid she won’t love you because of this, she never deserved your love to begin with.”

“I wish you never knew!” Izuku whirled around. Angry tears streamed down his cheeks mingling with the water that Shoto had pushed him into. “You’re smothering me!”

Shoto felt every negative, hurt emotion that could ever show across his face, was frozen there. He swallowed to collect himself. Ice frosted him over, his expressions shutting down. He felt himself pulling away, becoming remote. He had only ever felt like this around Toya. “I’m not watching you self-destruct over a highschool fling.”

“I love her and even if she isn’t the one, then statistically, anyone else that I would ever fall in love with will be human. I want to be human with her!” The hotter, the more passionate Izuku ran, the colder, the more distant Shoto had to become.

“Is that what you want?” He kept his voice flat.

“Yes!”

“Fine.” Shoto stood up to his full height, looking down on Izuku. “I can’t change the past, all I can do is change what I do in the future. If I’m smothering you, I won’t anymore. I’m going to call your parents to let them know you’re here, and that’s all. I am sorry for all the trouble.” Shoto bowed stiffly. “I’ll leave you alone, Midoriya.”

He thought once that Izuku called after him. Shoto would have turned around, ran back to him, if Izuku called for a second time. He didn’t. So, Shoto kept walking until he was far enough on the beach that Izuku couldn’t hear the phone call.

“Izuku? What’s wrong?” Inko’s panicked voice in his ear made him realize that he had dialed with Izuku’s phone. Izuku only ever texted or video called, a regular phone call was pointless. Yet, Inko had answered anyway, had asked anyway. 

“Sorry, it’s me.” His fingers shook while holding the phone. He readjusted his grip. “It’s Shoto.”

“Of course, I know who you are, dear. What’s wrong? Is Izuku hurt?” Her worry was starting to infect him.

“He’s… I don’t know. Could you put Toshinori on the phone, too. I only have it in me to explain this once.”

He paced as he explained, kicking the sand and staring up at the sky. If he sat down, he wouldn’t get back up. If he looked at the water he would turn around. If he stopped pacing he would stop talking. His voice trembled and sometimes tears pricked at the corner of his eyes at Inko’s sharp inhales or Toshinori’s heavy sighs. “I’m going to leave his phone and bag on the bench closest to the pier. No one’s around to take it.”

He heard the sound of the phone being passed over and Toshinori’s voice filled the line. “We’re already out the door. Thank you for telling us.”

“I don’t know if I did the right thing.”

He could hear their footsteps over the phone. “I can’t tell you if it was right or wrong. There are things that I might have done differently or maybe I would have staged an intervention just as you had. But you did do the right thing by telling us, so Izuku doesn’t have to handle this all on his own.”

“Okay.”

Toshinori’s voice was even more gentle when he spoke again. “Are you okay, young Shoto?”

Shoto opened his mouth to speak, his throat thick. He wasn’t okay. He wanted Toshinori to be his dad and hug him and tell him that everything was going to be alright. He wanted Izuku to tell him that he was sorry and beg for forgiveness. He wanted to say he was sorry and beg for Izuku’s forgiveness. “I’ve got to go.”

Shoto powered off Izuku’s phone and shoved it in his bag, leaving it exactly where he said he would. He powered down his own phone. He would crumble if Toshinori called him back. Izuku needed their attention, not him. He wouldn’t let himself be a distraction. 

He didn’t want to go home, there was too much nervous energy pent up in his body, and he didn’t have the first clue to explain why he suddenly showed up without calling. His mother would be just as worried as Inko had been.

The bench he picked was as far away from the pier and the water as he could get. The sand wasn’t even so much sand anymore as it was pebbles and rocks. He collapsed, letting the old wood take all of his weight; he was so tired of carrying it all.

He leaned his head back and stared at the sky, tears hot in his eyes and the air freezing on his cheeks. He wanted to cry, but he just couldn’t. Time passed and he imagined that he saw two figures far off in the distance approach the water. He closed his eyes.

Someone sat down on the bench beside him. He wanted it to be Toshinori. He wanted it to be his mom. He wanted it to be Izuku. 

A zippo lighter clicked open. A hiss of gas, the spark wheel grinding against the stone. The lighter closed.

“Go away, Dabi.”

The lighter clicked open again. Wheel. Flame. Clicked shut. This time in a slightly differing rhythm. Shoto opened his good eye to see if he was mistaken. Maybe it was a serial killer, enjoying a smoke before he killed Shoto. 

His brother sat slouched next to him, long leg crossed over his knee. The lighter dangled in his hand, and he twirled it between his fingers. He was watching the flame in the same way that Shoto had not watched the sky. 

He studied his brother in the brief flashes of light and heat. His roots were grown out. So much so, that black at his tips looked more like a deliberate stylistic choice. He kept the two piercings at the corner of his mouth and the many that curved around his ears, but the rest were gone. There was weight on his body. His face wasn’t all hard, haunted angles anymore. He was wearing a soft navy sweater that most definitely wasn’t his own. 

Dabi flirted with the tip of the flame and his fingertip. 

“How can you stand it?” 

Shoto knew underneath the sleeve of the sweater were burn scars, rounded just the same as the end of a cigarette. 

“Are you afraid of hot drinks?”

Shoto shook his head. “I’m not in the practice of throwing hot drinks at my face.”

“I’m not in the business of being afraid of lighters.” Dabi shrugged. “Hawks gave me this one. I have a collection.”

Dabi lit the flame again, twirling it between his fingers faster than Shoto’s eyes could follow. The flame arced in the air before landing safely back in Dabi’s waiting hand. He snapped it shut and extended it to Shoto. “Want to try?”

Shoto shook his head. 

“You can’t spend all of your life afraid of getting burned.”

“I’m not afraid.” Shoto spoke honestly. “I would rather watch.”

“That’s a first. You always wanted to be doing exactly what I was doing when you were little.”

“Was that before or after you started to hate me?”

“Before,” Dabi answered honestly.  “You followed me around like a shadow. ‘Onii-chan let me come. Onii-chan I wanna swim, too’ You didn’t even know how to swim until I showed you.”

“You didn’t teach me to swim. Mom did.”

“No, I taught you to swim. Ask Mom. Ask Fuyumi or Natuso. There’s probably a picture of it somewhere.”

Dabi casually checked his phone, like he hadn’t shaken the foundation of Shoto’s life to its core. But Shoto remembered though. He remembered his Mom in the water, holding his arms and dragging him around as she spun faster and faster. Her white hair, her fair skin, her soft hands. Dabi had white hair before he dyed it. His skin could've still been soft and unblemished when he was younger. Though not for much longer. 

“Why are you here?” Shoto whispered.

“Izuku’s dad called the home phone. I answered. Said that you were at the beach and needed someone.”

“Oh.”

“I told Mom that I was going back home. She doesn’t know you’re here.”

“Okay.”

“You can crash at mine and Hawks’. Unless you want to go back home and explain to Mom why you’re on the beach at nearly one in the morning and not back at your apartment in Tokyo.”

“Okay.”

“Why are you here?” Dabi asked.

The tears that wouldn’t come earlier, spilled over Shoto’s cheeks. Silent for now. 

“Go away,” He said thickly. He pushed at Dabi’s arm that rested on the back of the bench. 

“Go away,” He ordered. There was nothing more embarrassing than crying in front of another person.

“Go away,” He begged. Dabi was the last person he wanted to be next to while Shoto cried his heart out over Izuku.

His brother put the lighter in Shoto’s hand. Instinctively, Shoto squeezed it tight and doubled over as the tears fell. He cried so hard that he choked. He lost himself for a while. When he came back, the lighter was still solid and there in his fist.

Dabi blew out a stream of air that fogged like smoke and drifted up. “Being gay fucking sucks, yeah?”

Shoto hiccuped. “Yeah.”

He tried to hand back the lighter, but Dabi shook his head telling him to keep it.

“You know what was fucked up? Endeavor didn’t even smoke.”

“He didn’t drink coffee either.”

Dabi barked a laugh. “No, he didn’t, did he?”

…

Hawks asked no questions about Shoto crashing on their couch when he got up for his early shift at the police station, and true to his word, Dabi didn’t say anything to their mother. Shoto wasn’t sure what time he fell asleep, only that it was light out. When he woke up, dry mouthed, sweaty, and disoriented, the sun was going down outside the window. 

Dinner was on the table, Dabi and Hawks were talking quietly. Hawks noticed him awake first. “How’d you sleep, champ?”

“What time is it?” Shoto asked.

“Nearly four. Hungry?”

He was more thirsty than anything; he kicked off several layers of blankets, no wonder he had been so hot, and stumbled to the kitchen. Once he downed two glasses of water the fried chicken on the table looked a lot better. 

Dabi watched as Shoto ate several pieces, making him wonder if he was allowed to eat this or not. “What?”

“Nothing. Glad to see that you have an appetite. Can’t let the swim team captain dwindle away into nothing over a boy.”

The chicken was suddenly too dry and hard to swallow. He thought that what had happened the night before might have been a surreal dream. Or maybe he was in a surreal dream right now, one of those really long ones that you woke up several times but the dream continued anyway. Only nightmares had ever done that to him. Never the good dreams that he wanted to keep.

Dabi hissed and brought his shin up to rub it. 

“Um, have you seen my phone?” Shoto asked.

“Over on the counter,” Hawks said cheerily enough, while he was still glaring at Dabi. Ignoring good table manners and the silent conversation that he knew was about himself, Shoto grabbed his phone. There were no missed notifications at all. None. He checked Izuku contact anyway to further rub salt into the wound. 

He was probably still out with his mother. Or maybe he was asleep. Or maybe he really just didn’t want to talk to Shoto anymore, ever again, for the rest of their lives. The end. He felt a headache coming on, hot tears behind his eyes.

“Want to watch a horror movie or chick flick?”

The question came again, before Shoto realized that the question was being aimed at him. 

Hawks held up some movies.

“I don’t want to watch a movie. Thanks for offering though.”

“I didn’t ask if you wanted to watch a movie. I asked would you rather watch a horror or a chick flick. Touya is going to go to the convenience store down the street and buy all the junk food and ice cream that he can carry, and we’re going to have a movie marathon. So again, which movie?”  He was smiling, but only for show. The look in his eyes was steely, calculated.

He looked to Dabi for help, but his brother already had his coat on and was tying his shoes. “Better answer him.”

“Chick flick?” Shoto mumbled, for the first time finally seeing the kind of man that lay underneath his carefree persona. He never understood why Dabi had gone for Hawks; they seemed like polar opposites. Hawks was sunny and Dabi was trouble. He had always thought that maybe it was what people referred to as sexual attraction. Was it more than that? Was the carefree attitude a mask? This was the man that had gone toe to toe with Dabi, challenged him, and clearly won. 

Hawks’ eyes warmed back up into something resembling familial comfort and concern. “Go take a shower, we’ll have everything ready by the time you’re done.”

Shoto didn’t dare argue. He grabbed an outfit that he had carelessly shoved in his bag and beelined it towards the shower. He knew what Hawks and his brother were doing. They were babying him. Treating him like he went through his first horrible breakup. But Shoto wasn’t fragile.

He met his eyes in the mirror and dropped them again. Dark circles, puffy eyelids, a haunted look to his face. Maybe he was as fragile as they were treating him. Mechanically he undressed, peeling off his jacket. No, not his jacket. Izuku’s jacket. He’d put it on and forgotten to add it to the rest of Izuku’s things. 

Carefully he brought up to his nose and inhaled. It still smelled like him. Shoto folded it up and set it to the side so that it wouldn’t mix with the rest of his dirty clothes. 

The shower had the effect of white noise on his entire body. Muscles that he hadn’t known were tight, relaxed. He let his hair hide his face, though there was no one to see him. Sand and salt ran down the drain. The hot water began to run tepid and he got out. Halfheartedly he dried his hair and scraped it back into a bun. He stared at the jacket.

Dabi banged on the door, scaring the life out of him. He pressed a hand over his heart as his brother yelled at him to hurry up.

He wanted to stay in the bathroom. He wanted to be alone to wallow properly. It was the worst breakup of his life. 

“I swear if this ice cream melts, I’m making you lick it off the floor! Come on!”

Shoto opened the door, only because he didn’t know the last time that Hawks or his brother might have cleaned the floor. Certainly not once a week like Shoto did.

There were even more blankets and pillows on the couch, snacks and drinks piled on the table in front of it. Hawks sat to one side. He didn’t know where his brother had gone.

Something slimy and cold touched Shoto’s face and he screamed. 

“Don’t be a baby!” Dabi hooked his arm around Shoto’s neck and put him in a headlock, with his other he tried to press a facemask to his skin.

“What the hell is the matter with you? I can put it on myself!” His brother ignored him and continued to smush the mask on his face.

“You may be gay, but you do not take care of your skin,” Dabi complained,

“He’s a teenage boy,” Hawks yawned, “And an athlete.”

“Even more of a reason to moisturize. Chlorine is hell on the skin.”

“You sound like Bakugo.”

“Then you should listen to Bakugo. He’s smart.” Dabi released him. “Set a timer would you. Full thirty minutes.”

Hawks gave him a thumbs up. Dabi sat on the other side of the couch, leaving the middle open for Shoto. 

“Why do I have to sit in the middle? Aren’t you two supposed to like each other?” Shoto complained, taking the drink that Dabi and been eyeing for himself.

“Shut up, brat.”

Hawks grabbed the drink from Shoto before he could dump it over Dabi’s head. “Like you want two grown men sitting next to you and making out the whole time. That’s what happens when we sit together and watch a movie. We’re doing you a favor.”

Shoto grudgingly took the middle and accepted his drink back without thanks. He couldn’t find where he had put his phone, before he could ask, the movie started. It was vapid and hilarious, exactly like candy. That film rolled right into the next and the next. Horror and then one of those sappy American Christmas movies.

Against his will, his attention was taken away from who’s hoodie he had balled up against his chest. He laughed and he screamed and he cried. Hawks had to bow out sometime past midnight.

“Up for one more?” Dabi asked, yawning.

Shoto returned his yawn and nodded, curling up in the spot Hawks had vacated. “Sure.”

Dabi shuffled through their options standing just so Shoto could see the part of the covers but not the title. They had moved to the ghibli collection. Dabi lingered on one option.

“Not Ponyo,” Shoto whispered.

“I thought you loved Ponyo?”

“Just pick another movie.”

Dabi shrugged and put in Princess Mononoke. “She’s so angry. Love that for her.”

“You would,” Shoto muttered.

He fell asleep long before the ending, waking up with another pile of blankets smothering him. Dabi was getting ready for work, Hawks had left hours before.

“You need me to take you to the train?” Dabi asked.

“No.” He shook his head. He couldn’t stay on his brother’s couch forever. He still had homework to do for classes tomorrow. “I’ve got to make a stop before I go.”

“Need me to drive you?”

“No. Where’s my phone?”

Dabi pointed to the coffee table that had been cleared away while he had been sleeping. Shoto bit his lip, still no text messages. There was a sticky note with a number scribbled down.

His brother lingered by the door, running his fingers up and down his buttoned up shirt. He almost seemed nervous. “Just answer me whenever I text you, okay? It’ll be for important stuff, no stupid memes or ‘how are yous’. Text if you have an emergency instead of taking the train from Tokyo and not letting anyone know. Let me know when you get home.”

“Should you be the one lecturing me on checking in and safety?” Dabi was frequently gone for weeks at a time where no one heard from him.

“Yeah, because I know how quickly shit can get fucked up when a person spirals. Save my number, or not, see if I care, brat.” Dabi slammed the door on his way out. 

He’s trying. Shoto folded the note up and stuck it in his bag. He didn’t have to decide today or even tomorrow what he wanted his relationship with his brother to be.

…

Toshinori answered the door when Shoto knocked. He knew by the way the apartment was quiet, that Izuku and Inko weren’t in. 

“He’s not coming back?”

Toshinori shook his head. “Not until after winter break. He and Inko took a trip.”

Shoto glanced over his shoulder where in the distance was the beach. Toshinori followed his eyes and sighed.

“Is he mad at me?”

It was the way that Toshinori paused that gave him all the answers that he needed. “I have a note for you to give your teacher. Some notes that Izuku said needed to be returned to Uraraka-chan. Do you want to come in?”

“No, I better not. I don’t want to miss my train.”

“I’ll be right back then.” Toshinori returned shortly with Izuku’s yellow backpack and a sealed envelope. Shoto slung the bag over his shoulder and put the letter safely in his pocket. He was surprised when Toshinori put his hand on top of his head.

“Everything will be alright, young Shoto.”

Shoto wanted to believe him, really he did, but he didn’t see how things would ever be okay again. “Do you really believe that?”

Toshinori nodded. “Yes, even if the Earth shakes, tsunamis strike, sicknesses come and go, friendships change. After everything settles, even if they are no longer the same, we get used to it before we know it. The tides are rough, but they never last forever; everything will be alright.”

He closed his eyes and sighed, feeling the weight of Toshinori’s hand on his head. Steady. He didn’t say that he and Izuku would get over this, no one but he and Izuku could determine that. He would soak Toshinori’s words and make it a mantra if he must. Everything would be alright even if everything changed.

Chapter Text

The apartment was terribly quiet. He didn’t realize how silent it could be without Izuku puttering around. 

The radio couldn’t pick up a tune when he turned the dial. He did his homework in silence. Bathed in silence. Went to sleep in silence.

In the morning his body woke up at the same time that it always did. He willed himself to feel sick, feverish, a tickle in his throat, anything. He dragged his feet, not up to swimming that morning. His heart wasn’t in it. He waited until the last possible bell to walk up to Aizawa, letter in hand. 

“From Midoriya’s family.” He mumbled.

Aizawa ripped the letter open and skimmed the contents, his face giving nothing away. “Okay, take your seat. I’ll make sure that his other instructors are informed.”

Walking back to his seat, it occurred to Shoto that he should have looked at the letter to see what excuse Toshinori had come up with. 

“Where’s Deku-kun?” Uraraka asked. Tsu, Iida, Shinso, and even Kaminari, looked over to see his response. Under the weight of their stares, Shoto’s tongue felt like lead.

“He’ll… be back after break.” He tacked on feebly. “Personal thing.”

Iida’s sharp eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Is he okay?”

He started to nod, changed his mind because Izuku was probably very not okay. Halfway through shaking his head, he thought that Izuku would hate it if everyone was worried about him. Shoto finished off the move ducking his head and pointing at his own seat before collapsing in it. He hid behind his hair anytime someone in their class tried to make meaningful eye contact with him.

When the lunch break started, Shoto got up and left before anyone could ask him anything else. The stairwell was empty. He felt a thick fog was clouding up his head. The slow realization dawned that Shoto hadn’t packed himself anything for lunch and he had left his wallet in the classroom. 

A curry bun landed in his lap, courtesy of Shinso.

“What did you do?”

“What you told me not to do.”

“Yeah, which was what exactly?”

“Don’t meddle in something personal.”

“What exactly did you do?”

Shoto recounted that Friday evening. When he was done, Shinso let him eat the whole bun in silence. He swallowed the last bit of dried bread and when Shinso still didn’t say anything, Shoto asked, “Well?”

Shinso replied, matter-of-fact, “You fucked up. You don’t need me to rub your nose in it.”

“Should I tell the others that Izuku’s not in school because of me?”

Shinso shook his head. “No.”

“What if they ask again?”

“They won’t. You looked absolutely so pathetic earlier, that Iida forbid anyone from asking again. We’ll all just have to wait and see how he is when he returns together.”

…

Classes ended, and Shoto tossed his unused notebook back into his backpack. He was slightly glad to see that he had packed his swim gear automatically, not that he was anymore in the mood to practice than he was before. Tucked away was a pink notebook, planets and superheroes doodled on it in a pretty purple pen with Ururaka’s name neatly written in the bottom corner. 

He glanced around but most of the rest of the class had already migrated to their after school activities or towards home. Shinso slowly uncurled himself from the desk he had napped at. 

“Do you know Uraraka’s schedule?” He held up the notebook in explanation.

“I dunno, martial arts practice?”

“Do you think-”

“Nope. Consider it part of your punishment.”

Shoto sighed and trudged towards the pool. If he was lucky, he’d miss her again after practice.

…

“Todoroki, out of the pool.”

He climbed out of the water. Aizawa tossed him a towel. “Watch from the sidelines and give tips.”

He buried his face into the scratchy material, wanting to cry but instead swallowing the feeling back down. “Yes, Coach.” 

Cold, wet, and miserable exactly fit his mood by the end of practice. Aizawa, in short order, told him to take the week off. 

Shoto wrung the damp towel in his hands, “It’s only an off day, I’ll do better tomorrow.”

“You’re not to get in this pool until after winter break.”

“Why that long? I’m not injured. If I don’t swim I’m going to fall behind. I can’t let the team down during the championship!”

“No morning swims either. Give me your key.”

“Am… am I not going to be the Captain anymore?”

Aizawa closed his eyes and took a measured breath. “I'm only making sure that you take a break. Your body isn’t the only thing that needs a break; your heart and your mind aren’t in it. You can’t just go through the motions and expect to win anything or help anyone.”

“I can do better! I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I’ll do whatever else you say, just please, please don’t take this away.”

Aizawa held his hand out for the key.

“This is all I have.” Shoto whispered.

After Aizawa had the key in his hand he said, “Look, this might be my fault. I pushed you into this role before you were ready. And as the adult here, I need to step in and look after your well being. I’m not taking away your Captain title. I’m only asking that you take a step back and really examine what you’re doing and why you’re doing it.”

“I love to swim.”

“I’m not talking about just this. I’m talking about whatever is going on with you, whatever, whoever it is. While U.A. is competitive, I’d hate for you to be miserable. You only get to be in high school once. You only get to be this young once. Bakugo can step up as co-captain. You trust him? You trust the team?”

Shoto nodded.

“Then don’t worry about them. They’ll be fine. Worry about you, understand? I only want to see you in class and nowhere near this pool until after break.”

Uraraka’s notebook stood out pink against their kitchen table but Shoto was more interested in staring at the floor. 

What was he doing? Avoiding homework.

Why? Because he couldn’t get Aizawa’s words out of his head. 

He should be doing any number of things that needed to be done. Laundry, dinner, bento for tomorrow, shower. Any of those things but those two questions nagged at him.

What was he doing here? Attending U.A. 

Why? Because Izuku wanted to come here and Shoto wanted to be with him. 

“Look where that got me.” Shoto sighed bitterly. The empty apartment didn’t answer back. 

…

“Good morning, Todoroki.”

“Morning Tsu.”

“You forgot your jacket,” She croaked, the winter air played havoc on her throat, “Aren’t you cold?”

He slipped on his indoor shoes. “I don’t get cold easily.”

“Lucky.” She adjusted the mask around her ears. It was decorated with frogs and lily pads.

“Morning, Tsu!” Uraraka called. “Morning Shoto-kun.”

He tuned out their conversation about colds and the temperature until Uraraka’s voice piped up from his left. “Whoa, look how long your hair has gotten!”

Heart racing, his voice came out as unaffected as usual. “Has it?”

Her eyes darted from the hand gripped tight to the strap on his bag, to his feet that had missed a step, to his tense shoulders. He could feel the magnetic pull when someone looked at his scar. Her gaze didn’t jump and skitter like others did, afraid of being caught staring or disgusted by the sight. Uraraka looked at his scar and then looked at the space between them, thoughtfully. 

“You usually wear it up.” Tsu pointed out.

“My hair tie broke on the train today.”

Uraraka gasped, this time from his right. “I’ve got just the thing!” 

She rummaged in her bag, grinning widely. “I won them this morning when I stopped at the convenience store to get my bento. It was in one of those prize raffles and I never can resist entering, especially when it’s one of my favorite characters.”

She thrust her hand forward, reminding him of when he was little and would have a shell that he wanted to show his mother. In her hand was a package of three pink scrunchies, each with a different pattern.

“Is it?”

“It’s Kirby! I just love him! Go on, take whichever one you want. I’ve obviously not worn any of them, since I got them this morning. You too, Tsu, and then we can all match!”

“You two pick the ones you want first.” Shoto demurred, “I don’t know anything about Kirby.”

“What? He’s an icon! He’s like a little black hole. That’s why I like him so much, a little space guy.” 

“A black hole?”

Tsu put her scrunchie around her wrist. “I think he's supposed to be a vacuum. He sucks up things and spits it out. Did you know in his initial design, he was supposed to grab and throw things with his tongue?”

Shoto shook his head, accepting the scrunchie that Uraraka handed him. “Like a frog then?”

“Uh, huh”

“I like my explanation best. It’s better than being a frog or a vacuum.” Uraraka primly pulled her hair back.

Shoto remembered the astronaut and planets that she had doodled on her notebook. “Wait.”

He dug through his bag as they stood just outside of homeroom, but his search came up empty. Like his jacket, he had left her notes at home.  “I forgot your notes that Izuku borrowed. Our tests start tomorrow.”

“Don't worry, you can just bring them to me tomorrow. I think it was mostly math and physical science, and I know that stuff without too much review.”

He hadn’t expected that of her. “You like math?”

“I want to be an astronaut, you know? So I have to be really smart.” She grinned and flexed her biceps, “And really in shape if I want to work in zero gravity space.”

“And study black holes?”

“You got it!”

He smiled a little in the face of her enthusiasm. He could see the resemblance between her and Kirby with their smile and pink cheeks. 

His smile didn’t last long when Aizawa passed out their career forms. “Fill these out. Have your parents look them over on break. Bring them back signed.”

Kaminari raised his hand. “I thought this was more of a third year thing?”

“U.A. wants to get a jump start so that you can make the most of your third year. It’s fine if you change your mind, but it’s not fine if you have no direction. That’s why we give the forms early.”

He felt Aizawa’s eyes linger on him for just a second too long. 

…

“What are you doing here, half n’ half? Aizawa told us that you’re not allowed at the pool.” Bakugo groused, hair damp from the shower and bag over his shoulder ready to go.

“I’m not at the pool.” Shoto replied. Aizawa had said nothing about waiting outside the exit door that Bakugo was most likely to use at the time that practice would be over. There was no stupid rule about that. 

His co-captain rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky that I’m waiting for Kirishima. What do you want?”

Shoto took out his notebook and clicked his pen. Bakugo scoffed. “What are those notes on team performance? Everyone’s times and stats?”

“Yes. Ever since I became captain. I did record what I could remember from the year before, but…” Shoto shrugged. 

“You’re kidding. I’ve never seen you with that notebook once at any practices.”

“Obviously. I don’t want it to get wet. I record it on the train ride home.”

Bakugo snatched the notebook out of his hands and predictably flipped to his page and the pages after that. His eyes getting wider. “You literally recorded every time of mine.”

“And the rest of the team. It’s not always about you Bakugo.”

“Shut up.” He snapped. “I can’t believe you struggle with our math homework, but you can remember over twenty members swim times for every practice. Every swim time. And you write notes on performance and… are you autistic or something?”

Shoto shrugged again. “I don’t think you can just ask people if they’re autistic.”

He ignored it. “It would explain so much.”

“Can we get to the point of why I came here? I need to get this practice recorded.” 

The door swung open and Shoto ducked behind the corner of the building. 

“It’s just Kirishima.” Bakugo called.

“Just? Hurtful, dude.”

“Shut up.” It almost sounded like an endearment.

“What’s up, Todoroki? How’s Midoriya? The whole team is worried about him, but our coach won’t say what’s up. He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“He’s um.” He couldn’t spend the whole day without thinking about Izuku, not even in normal circumstances. He’d been able to focus a little on his classes today, but only because he was constantly avoiding that question. “He’s with his mom.”

“Drop it, shitty hair.” Bakugo snatched the pen from Shoto’s fingers and began furiously writing down practice notes. 

“You could say please.” Kirishima took a breath of practiced patience. “Anyways, crazy about the career forms happening so early, and during exams too. But I guess that makes sense. Our coursework gets more specialized in our third year, depending on what we want to do.”

“Oh.” Shoto said weakly. He hadn’t known that. Izuku had done all the research into this school, Shoto was just along for the ride. “Do you think that it’s odd that we’re teenagers making some of the biggest decisions of our lives? How are we supposed to know what we’re going to do in ten or twenty years?”

Kirishima hummed thoughtfully, shifting side to side. “Well, you do have a point. Whatever we decide now, we might change our minds later. But we can’t let the fear of change affect how we’re making our decisions in this moment. We still have to make a decision, you know? U.A. is just trying to help us make the best of our current decisions.”

“You look kind of lost, Todoroki-bro. I might not have explained it well. Let me give you an example. So, on my career form, I put down that I want to be a personal trainer and gym owner, cause to me the two go hand and hand. I want to make a place where men and women can get manly but also feel safe and supported. Let’s say the gym doesn’t work out, I can take my skills as a personal trainer somewhere else. Spread the manly mission one-on-one.”

“But how do you know that you want to be a personal trainer?” Shoto asked. “What if you change your mind?”

“That’s a toughie. I can’t say I know for sure, but I know that physical fitness is a core value to me. I want to take that with me, whatever I do. I might want to translate that to, I dunno. Kats, what's another job like a personal trainer?”

Bakugo replied without looking up from the notebook. “Physical therapist. Massage therapist.”

“Oh, massage therapist! Good, see they’re different. But they’re the same. Taking care of your body. You can’t be manly if you neglect self care. What I learned will still do me good. Even if I flip burgers, I can still use what I’ve learned to help myself and my friends.”

Shoto nodded, for the first time in days, feeling a little less wound up.

“If I change my mind, then I change my mind.” Kirishima grinned. “I’m sure that I’ll have a good reason to. That doesn’t mean my time was wasted.”

“What did you put on your sheet Bakugo?” Shoto asked.

“None of your business.” Bakugo shoved Shoto’s notebook into his chest, nearly winding him.

“He wants to be a professional swimmer or work for his parent’s fashion company!” Kirishima chirped.

“Fashion-”

“Shitty hair, let’s go.” Bakugo grabbed Kirishima’s hand and dragged him across the schoolyard before Shoto could get another word out. 

Shoto smoothed out the notebook cover of any wrinkles and checked over Bakugo’s review. It wasn’t nearly as extensive, but it was thorough, especially considering that he had no prior notice. He knew that when he came by after practice tomorrow, that Bakugo’s notes would rival his own. 

…

“Forgot Uraraka’s notes again?” 

The sound of Shinso slurping his ice coffee nearly drowned out Shoto’s groan. “I’m not doing it on purpose, I swear. I told her for sure that I’m bringing them tomorrow.”

“Maybe subconsciously you’re avoiding it so then Midoriya can give it back to her himself.”

“What are you a therapist?”

“No, I put veterinarian down on my sheet.”

“Really?”

“That unsuspected of me?” Shinso rubbed Creamer underneath her chin. 

“I guess not. I just thought that you would do something different like a social worker or barista.” Shoto admitted.

“I’m not sure if my dads would kill me if I went to barista school or not. It’s a toss up. One lives on coffee and the other likes novelty. I guess you can say they both like unconventionality, though.”

Shinso finished his coffee while Shoto checked his phone. Still nothing. Hawks had sent him a meme. Unlike his brother, he had put his number in Shoto’s phone while he had been asleep.

“Why social worker though?” Shinso prompted.

“Dunno, you’re adopted? You’ve got a vibe for strays.”

“Cats and children aren’t the same thing, and you think that mermaids go through an adoption agency?”

“Are both your dads mermaids?” He thought about Aizawa, who spent hours by the pool, but Shoto had never seen him get wet.

“You using your one question?”

“Do I have to?” 

Shinso blinked, not giving anything away. Creamer was rolling around in his lap.

“Fine.”

“One dad is, the other dad isn’t. Totally common for mer that choose to live on land. Izuku’s parents are the same way. Generally if both in the couple are mer, then why bother living extensively on land.”

“So no mer adoption service?”

Shinso shook his head, using his straw paper to rile the cat. “More like baby stealing.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it sure beats the typical ‘you’re adopted’ talk. It’s a common enough practice among mer. And it’s not like my birth parents didn’t have the chance to get me back. Fighting and counter stealing is totally on the table as far as our culture is concerned. It can get vicious.”

“Did your birth parents… fight for you?”

“Just like there are couples that want children that can’t have children, there are couples that have children and don’t want children. Dad brought me home, much to the shock of my other dad and the rest is history.”

“You seem really calm about it.”

“Yeah, I mean, I was literally a baby. My dads are all that I know, and they wanted me. It’s not a tragic backstory to me. All’s well that is well. You figure out what to put on your career paper?”

“Is it that obvious that I haven’t started on it?”

“I was clued in when you asked Denki what he wanted to be. Can’t wait to see how Aizawa-sensei handles that conversation.”

“There’s not really a course on being a Youtube influencer/radio talk show host/ grammy award winning rockstar.”

“He’s a little bit of a moron, but I like that he dreams big. If anyone can pull it off, he can.” Shinso sighed. His lips betrayed him, turned up in an unconscious smile.

“About that person you like,” Shoto began.

“You used your one question.” Shinso stood up, putting the cat in Shoto’s lap and grabbing his stuff. “Have fun with your future career crisis.”

…

It wasn’t mandatory for clubs and teams to suspend practice during exam time. Attendance was optional, so it wouldn’t reflect negatively against you if you wanted to curl up and cry at home after the day was done or if you wanted to blow off steam in the gym. 

Shoto walked past the doubled doors to the pool, head down, pink notebook clutched in his hand. Please let Aizawa be one of those teachers that went immediately home during exam period . Walking into the gym where Uraraka and Kirishima practiced wasn’t illegal, but it sure felt like it was. 

There was a problem with the train that morning and Shoto had nearly been locked out of the classroom. He hadn’t had time to give Uraraka her notebook. Everyone had been too brain fried at lunch to string together a coherent thought. While talking to Bakugo and Kirishima the day before, he had found out the time that their practice usually ended.

Outside of the last set of double doors before entering the gymnasium proper, Shoto rethought his current mission. He could always wait and catch her leaving the changing room. Would that make him a creep? No. Practice should be over. Even if it wasn’t, Shoto could hand off her notebook to someone else and make a beeline out of there. 

He was sweating already, just hearing the thumb of bodies hit the mats through the doors. It wouldn’t be like last time. Shoto opened the door and stepped inside.

It looked like the whole team and then some had stayed after school. Which was weird considering it was exam time. The wall of bodies gave him a buffer between the mats. He didn’t want to leave her notes with just any of them. He looked around for Kirishma and spotted the bright red hair in the distance. Quickly, he skirted around bodies trying to get close to Kirishima who was close to the mat. 

A broad, blond third year was getting tossed with much more force than necessary. His head bounced despite his body curling to soften the fall. He laid there for a beat too long before he climbed back to his feet. 

Shoto saw none of that. He only saw red hair. A body that was larger than life. Hit harder than life. Nearly taken his life. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He couldn’t be here. He wasn’t supposed to be in the same room as Shoto. Outside, he wasn’t supposed to be within 500 yards. Shoto knew the exact distance. He could measure it with his eye. It was one of the first things he had learned to do, after being hospitalized. 

Shoto couldn’t measure shit now. He could barely even see. His vision had tunneled down to the dangerous man standing on the mat. 

“Shoto!” Enji sounded happy to see him, excited even. 

He sounded like that after Shoto had perfectly performed a complicated move, right before his father proceeded to beat the move into his body so that he would never forget again. Shoto could feel the rubber against his skin already.

“You’re not-” Shoto wheezed. He’s not supposed to do what? These were his damned kids and he could do whatever he wanted Rei. It’s what my father did to me. This is how they become the best. Don’t tell me what I can’t do with my own kids, you stupid bitch! 

All thoughts, all memories fled as Enji stepped closer. Shoto felt his heartbeat crescendo around his left eye.

Stop moving Shoto! How dare you embarrass me in front of everyone. How dare you disobey me! Stop squirming! Touya always took his punishments so much better than you. He learned what happens when you humiliate me. Now you’ll learn and learn it and learn it well. Stop looking at your mother! I said look at me! That right side of yours is too soft. I’ll burn it away. I’ll burn all the softness out of you until you are perfect.

Unaware of his body anymore, Shoto had fallen on the ground, defenseless. Enji would finish what he had started. He wouldn’t mess up and burn the wrong side this time. 

Someone would tell him later what had occurred. There were even rumors that someone had it recorded on their phone. Though the video wasn’t framed properly. After all, the center of attention had been on the guest presenter, esteemed martial arts champion, Enji Todoroki, Endeavor. In truth, the footage barely had Shoto in the shot as his legs gave out. It was several moments after that before the crowd began to realize that something was wrong. Then the focus of the video was on him, collapsed at the foot of the crowd. The videographer never had their phone pointed at the petite, brunette girl next to Enji’s elbow. 

She stepped forward and used the same move that Enji had just demonstrated on the blond third year, tossing a man nearly three times her height over her shoulder and onto the hard floor, completely missing the mat. She took advantage of her stunned opponent and locked his body into a self defense pin. 

Later when Shoto could bring himself to try and recall what happened, he imagined what her face looked like. Decisive, steady, determined. A hero.

He didn’t remember much after that. A glimpse of the hallway. The sickening feeling of not getting enough air. Someone holding back his hair as he dry heaved over a trash can in the bathroom. The lights were too bright, compounding the sense of impending doom.

Shoto shivered and someone tucked a jacket around him tighter. The hood was pulled up over his head, obscuring most of the view of the room around him. His chin was tucked into his chest as he stared down at the hands in his lap. He realized one of the hands was his, bloodless and numb. He wasn’t sure if it was numb from the panic attack or from how hard he was gripping the other person’s hand. The sleeve of the jacket was pink and soft.

“Smells.” He mumbled.

“Huh?”

He tried to gesture to the jacket but his body felt too heavy. The person belonging to the other hand must’ve figured out what he was meaning by his feeble twitch.

“Sorry. It was the only thing that I had in my locker that wasn’t covered in sweat. You looked cold. I can see if Bakugo is still around, even though Aizawa-sensei sent him home an hour ago.”

Shoto wanted to say that the smell wasn’t bad per se. It was just strong and made his empty stomach lurch. Something fruity. Peaches. Strawberries. One of those things. 

“Cold.” He agreed. The last time he had felt this cold was in the cave during the storm.

“Can I put my arm around you? Is that okay? I’m not really sure what to do in this situation.”

Shoto didn’t know if it would be okay or not. It was too hard to keep his thoughts together let alone speak them.

The person next to him sighed. “Just do… anything, okay, if I make you uncomfortable.”

They shifted their weight, bumping Shoto slightly into the wall on his left. Someone had taken the care to position him where no one could sneak up on his blindside. Probably the same person that was trying to get Shoto to release their hand.

“I’m not letting go. Only switching hands so I can put the closest arm around you, okay? That way we’ll both be more comfortable.”

Panic welled up when Shoto’s hand was left empty. The person next to him quickly put their other hand in his, threading their fingers together and squeezing. A warm weight settled across his shoulders, tentatively, gently pulling him closer when he didn’t resist. 

Shoto rested his head on their shoulder, the hoodie still obscuring his view. He suddenly felt like crying again. He was like a baby only realizing when he was being held and safe, how much he was scared and hurt.

“Let it out.” The person next to him soothed, rubbing their callused thumb across the back of Shoto’s hand. 

He knew this person now. The rough touch, the sound of their voice, the smell of their hoodie. The name came to him slowly but he couldn’t remember all of it at that moment.

“Ochako?”

“Yeah?” She said.

There were a couple things to ask. Where was his father? Where were they? What time was it? Why was she here?

“What happened?”

“Oh.” She laughed a little like she was embarrassed. “I distracted Endeavor-”

Shoto’s flinch was involuntary.

“--That guy. Bakugo was around, he’d come to watch… came to see Kirishima. He grabbed you and got you out of there. Things got kind of dicey after that. The police showed up. By the time I came to check on you, Aizawa-sensei was here, closed up in the office with the principal. I definitely never want to get on Aizawa’s bad side, that's for sure. We’re in the administration office by the way. Bakugo also told me that one of the secretaries got a hold of your family and they’re taking the bullet train to be here.” She shifted and turned her body.

“They should be here in about an hour. I didn’t even know the school could be open so late. Aizawa sent Bakugo home, so now it’s just us until your family gets here or Aizawa finishes tearing Principal Nezu a new one.”

Ochako yawned several times while he processed everything that she had told him. It had to be getting late and she couldn’t be comfortable sitting on the hard, decorative couch. She had exams tomorrow.

“You didn’t have to stay.”

“I did.” She said firmly. “You wanted me to stay.”

Shoto had wanted her to stay?

“You grabbed my hand when I came in and wouldn’t let go.”

She added, “So, I’m staying. That’s what friends are for.”

I haven’t been a very good friend to you, Shoto thought to himself. He settled more comfortably on her shoulder. She leaned her weight into him and he was surprised how comfortable it felt. Time must have passed, though Shoto couldn’t mark it.

The door banged open. Ochako was on her feet, her body shielding Shoto from the threat. He had forgotten how to breathe. Endeavor was back. The police must have let him go or he had overpowered the officers.

“Where the fuck’s the principal!” Touya shouted. 

A cool hand cupped his cheek and the hood was gently pushed back from his face. “My baby. It’s just me.”

He was a child again. His mom was pressing a cool cloth over the place where the bandage had previously been and it hurt. It hurt. It hurt. None of them knew that the ice would make it worse. She was only trying to soothe the burn. Soothe the healing skin. Soothe him. 

A sob ripped from his throat. She sat next to him where Ochako had been sitting, and he all but crawled into her lap, the soft knit of her cardigan pressing to his bad eye. 

“I’m sorry.” He spoke into her chest.

“Sorry? No, no. There’s no reason to be sorry. Why are you sorry, Shoto?”

He was sorry for crying. He was sorry for making them take the expensive bullet train when money was tight. He was sorry that he couldn’t keep it together. He was bothering everyone. He was being a shit friend and a shit son. He shouldn’t have come here. If he had never come to this school; he and Izuku wouldn’t be fighting. He wouldn’t have seen Endeavor. Now, there would be legal troubles and it was all Shoto’s fault. And he tried to open his mouth to explain all of this, but the words and the meanings were too big to squeeze past his teeth. 

“That’s enough.” Aizawa said, voice achingly gentle. He walked from the doorway of the principal's office. He took Shoto’s hands and stilled them. He had been signing without realizing. No one in the room had any idea what he was saying. 

His teacher looked at his mom. “Why don’t you go and make it quick with the principal and get Shoto back home?” 

“And who do you think you are?” Touya hissed. “Make it quick? You see what your negligence has done to my brother, and you want us to make it quick? Is it because you’re a teacher here that you want to hurry us along and save face. You’re lucky I don’t burn this whole place to the fucking ground.”

Aizawa, for his part, seemed perfectly unruffled “That’s why I’m telling you to make it quick. Tomorrow you can march back up here with your anger and a flame accelerant. I am looking after your brother and my student. Are you?”

Shoto curled forward wanting to disappear.

“I would like to talk with this principal… Nezu-san, wasn’t it?” Rei said. “Touya, you sit and wait with Shoto. It won't take very long at all.”

Shoto leaned back into the corner, pulling the hood back up. Uraraka was no longer around. Aiziawa was speaking privately with his mother. Touya stood rigidly by the door, arms crossed, knuckles white. He looked like a delinquent student that had been called one too many times to the school administrative office. The look on his brother’s face was one that he never thought could be mirrored on his mother’s face. Contempt. Icy fury. 

All this time, Shoto had thought that Touya and he had inherited their anger from their father. After all, when had he ever seen his mother truly angry? Was it always there, building silently? Enji had abused them all, but she was the first.

“Don’t un-enroll me from here. Please,” He begged.

“You want to stay here?” Touya’s lip curled. If Shoto wasn’t exhausted past his bones, he would’ve been angry. Of course, school wasn’t important to Touya. He never thrived there; how could he fathom the idea that someone might want to stay.

“Why do you want to stay?” Aizawa asked. 

He remembered the form that he was supposed to fill out and turn in after break. The one that sat on his kitchen table, blank as the day he had gotten it. The questions that Aizawa asked before. He wanted an answer.

Shoto looked from his mom to his teacher. He still didn’t have an answer that wasn’t in shades of green.

“We’ll discuss it later.” His mother said finally. It was a dismissal. 

…

On the bullet train home, Shoto bolted awake from the dead of sleep. Rei smoothed back his hair with concern. “What about my exams?”

“You’ve been granted an extension. You’ll take them if you come back.” Rei replied.

“I’m with Touya on this one. They should have excused him from exams altogether.” Hawks chimed in. Instead of going to the school, he had stopped by Shoto’s apartment to pick up anything that he might need.

“They did book us the best class, covered the fees for the train ride here and included extra for any connections we might need.”

“Like that’s enough of a reason for us not to burn that place to ashes.” Touya muttered darkly, scowling out the window.

“Aizawa-san gave me a list of excellent lawyers.” Rei tapped the paper on her lap. “What did he do before he was a teacher, I wonder? He said any one of them I chose, all I would have to do is mention his name, and they would take on our request pro bono. I’ve been looking up these names and all of them are very expensive.”

“All I have to do is call up some of the people that I used to hang out with and they’d burn that building for me.”

“Let’s not… call those people, yeah?” Hawk’s voice sounded strained. 

The topic of conversation moved off course and Shoto’s eyes closed again. It was too late to ask just what his mother meant by if.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Shoto?” Fuyumi peeked her head through the door. “You up?”

He’d woken up close to dawn, having slept on and off for hours. He couldn’t actually sleep any more, but it was safe under the covers. He had feigned sleep when Natsuo had gotten up several hours earlier. He listened to the sound of his siblings and mother voices rising and falling softly through the door, afraid of waking him. It reminded him of being much younger, pretending to take naps. Though, the energy of the day felt different when he was smaller. Today, he felt a shame that he couldn’t place. He wanted to lay in the dark forever.

“Are you hungry?” She asked, just as soft as before.

“I’ll be up in a minute.” He replied. He wasn’t sure if he was hungry. With the door opened just a crack, letting the outside world in, he couldn’t bear to lay down any longer. 

Food was waiting for him at the table, as was everyone else. It was awkward as he sat down and picked up his chopsticks. His mother, Natsuo and Fuyumi were all doing that thing. They were staring at him but acting like they weren’t staring at him. He would indulge their bad acting If that was the game that they wanted to play. 

“I’ve made an appointment with your therapist.” Rei said. He hadn’t been to his therapist in years. How did one ‘catch up’ with one’s therapist? 

“When is it?”

“This afternoon.”

Shoto nodded. It was easier this way, being told what to do. Natuso put an extra scoop of rice in his bowl. “You better eat all of this, I didn’t cook all of this food for you not to eat it.”

“You cooked this?”

“Well, yeah.” Natuso put the last of the dishes, save what Shoto was using, in the sink. “I actually made the rice last night, but when everyone got home last night, they were too tired to eat. So don’t complain about the texture.”

“Thank you, nii-san. I’ll do the dishes.”

“No, don’t worry. I got them.” Fuyumi bustled over towards the sink. 

He stared down at his rice. He should be smiling, his family was doing this all for him. He was grateful. There was nothing for him to do. He clutched his chopsticks tight, anxious.

Rei reached across the table and placed her hand over his. “We can take a walk on the beach afterwards. We haven’t done that in a long time.”

The plates clattered loudly in the sink. 

“What was that, Shoto? I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.”

“I don’t want to go to the beach.”

Natuso used the back of his hand to feel Shoto’s forehead.

“What are you doing?” He asked his brother.

“Seeing if you have a fever. You don’t want to go to the beach?”

Shoto pressed his lips stubbornly together, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Rei hesitantly soothed him, as if she wasn’t sure which hurt to heal first. 

This family shared a meaningful look that Shoto pretended not to notice. 

“Thank you for the meal.” Shoto stood up and went back to his room. He could hear their whispering before the door was shut behind him. 

…

The thing that Shoto learned when life was difficult was how to live from minute to minute. There was nothing healing or comforting about it. It wasn’t a source of strength of character. You lived because you were alive. That meant wading through the discomfort one second at a time because you had no other choice.

He didn’t remember the conversation with his therapist. He figured nothing too important couldn’t have been said. Rei and his therapist talked for a long time afterwards behind closed doors, while Shoto sat on the plastic chair in the waiting room. Uraraka sent him a text asking if he was okay. It was kind of her. Shoto promptly replied, wishing her luck on her exams and a digital Kirby sticker.

Maybe, Shoto thought while he waited, he wasn’t processing the Endeavor incident well. He wasn’t really processing at all, actually. It was terrible when it happened. The panic was real, those feelings were real. It felt like nothing. It held no more importance than a shopping trip that he might have had a month ago. 

Endeavor had been the main figure in his nightmares. He had been a specter in his darkest, self inflicted daydreams. He had played out meeting with his father so many times in his head, the torture, the fear. Each scenario was more painful than the next. Now that it had actually happened, it felt like it was a part of one of those melodramatic scripts he had come up with. The event as it happened, had lost all of its sting.The only exception was the detail where Izuku would have swooped in and saved him. That detail stung. And that was a little fucked up, he could admit to himself. He was more concerned over missing Izuku than he was about facing his past abuser. His thoughts circled around and around, the answer wasn’t becoming clearer. 

There was probably no right answer.

His mother held onto his arm as they walked out onto the street. He sensed that it was more for her comfort than his. No one could take her baby away from her if she was holding on so tightly. Her eyes were sharp and vigilant of every person they passed by. Again, Shoto thought about how he was handling all of this. He was certainly too calm. When would he crack?

He was pulled from once more out of his melodramatic daydreams of falling into Izuku’s arms by the sound of his mother crying. She was trying so hard not to, blinking rapidly, lips squeezed together. Rei roughly scrubbed the heel of her hand against her cheeks. 

“I’m sorry.” She gasped when she saw Shoto looking. A spasm passed through her body as the sob she was trying to suppress worked itself free. Shoto led by the example that she had always given him. He wrapped his arms around her and tucked her head under his chin. He had outgrown her in height, but he would never really outgrow his mother.

“This isn’t about me,” She cried and apologized again. “I should be taking care of you, not the other way around.”

Shoto silently rubbed her back. Unprompted, the memory of Touya yelling at their mother all those nights ago popped into his head. Was I not important enough, did my suffering not matter!?

He and Touya had suffered, and though it wasn’t a contest, who had suffered the most? Who had suffered the longest? 

He squeezed his mother tightly. “You don’t have to.”

“I do have to take care of you! I’m your mother.”

“You don’t have to ignore your pain. Crying doesn’t make you a bad mother. You’re a very good mother.”

Rei brushed his hair behind his ears and studied him. “When did you get so wise?”

“I’m not really.” If only she could hear the thoughts in his head. “Let’s go home.”

His mother softly shook her head. “No, let’s do something. I don’t want to stay cooped up and trapped. I won’t let Enji make us feel like that ever again. Are you hungry?”

They walked arm and arm down the street. A surprising number of people were out shopping. His mom talked about ordering a Christmas cake for the family. Hawks said that he would take care of the KFC order.

“Did you want to do any shopping?” His mother asked him meaningfully. 

“I don’t have anyone to get a Christmas present for.”

“Christmas isn’t the only thing. We can still window shop.”

His mother pulled into several stores, holding up items and asking his opinion. 

“Wouldn’t Fumi be better for this?”

“Can you think of anything that comes after Christmas?”

“Valentines day?”

His mom dropped her arms and sighed heavily. “Your birthday.”

“Oh.”

“You’re incredibly hard to shop for, and now that you’re away for school, it’s just that much harder to know what you’re interested in.”

“You could always get me swim stuff.” It occurred to him after he said that, that he might not need swim things.  His mother still hadn’t given him an indication if he would be returning to U.A. or not.

“You have enough swimming things. A whole closet full.”

“I’m sorry.” He was at a loss. He didn’t often want things.

“How about this, I hold up an item, and you just nod or shake your head if you like it.”

Shoto could do that. He nodded. They passed an hour and three stores like that. Shoto started picking up items and doing the same thing for her. His mother’s eyes were smiling again at the end of it. While she stood in line to check out a couple of things, nothing for his birthday she swore, he saw Kirby blind boxes and thought of Uraraka. 

“Find a Christmas present after all?” His mother asked.

“No,” He said slowly, “A thank you present for the Uraraka.”

He didn’t know which one she would prefer, not that he had any way of knowing what was inside the box. He started to weigh them in his hand, the heavier ones had to be the more intricate ones. Those were always the most sought after right? He’d help Izuku do this when they were still in elementary school and scouring for his favorite super heroes.

He paid, insisting that he should. His mother frowned, put out because she also wanted to thank Ururaka. “I want to find something for Bakugo too. He helped too.”

“What’s he like?”

“Kirishima.”

His mom laughed. “I said what, not who!”

That was all that Shoto knew that his co-captain liked. He was at a loss. “He gave me a sample of this lotion once.”

After a couple of questions and a quick google search, they found a store that sold the lotion in a skin care bundle. It was very expensive, because of course Bakugo had to have quality everything. Shoto even splurged on the gift wrapped option, partly to impress, but mostly because he thought that Bakugo wouldn’t accept it if it wasn’t. 

He looked at the fancy gift bag with Bakugo’s present and at the small blind box worth a couple of yen. It felt very unbalanced. 

“We can pick her up some luxury candy that they sell near the bullet train station,” Rei offered.

Shoto perked up. “Will I be getting to go back to U.A.?”

His mother hesitated. “I’m still thinking it over. Regardless, we’ll have to go back to Tokyo to settle the details either way.”

“I want to go back,” He insisted.

She tilted her head considering. “Why do you want to go back?”

There was that question again, the same one that was on the paper that Aizawa had assigned. Why?

His answers felt stitled and lifeless on his tongue. “It’s a good school and I have friends there. The swim team is good.” 

They walked towards home together in contemplative silence. Snow started to spit and stick to stairs leading up to a shrine. Shoto paused and looked up at the familiar decorations that too often faded into the background. Weren’t shrines the type of place that people went to seek answers and engage in deep reflection?

“Can we go here for New Years?” He asked.

“That sounds like a lovely idea.” 

…

“Hey, Nii-san, how did you know that you wanted to be a doctor?” 

Natuso looked up from the stove. “I knew in elementary school when one of my classmates had one of those really expensive video games. Like days before release because his dad was the doctor of Nintendo’s director or something.”

Fuyumi looked up from the paper she was grading with a skeptical look. “Really, a video game?”

“That and the money. I didn’t want to be sharing a room with Touya all of my life.”

“It doesn’t have to have any deeper meaning than money?” That didn’t really help Shoto narrow it down, but pressure felt a little more manageable.

“Aren’t you going to ask your nee-san why she wanted to be a teacher?” Fuyumi asked.

“Nee-san, why did you want to be a teacher?”

“I’m glad you asked, little brother! When I was studying for high school entrance exams, my friends would study with me. They said that I explained things really well, and that made me happy. It felt good to be helpful to my friends. Then other people started to join in. In that moment when someone understands and you realize that you had something to do with that., feels great. People always praised our teachers for the value of helping the next generation. It was during those study sessions that I started to get an inkling of what that meant.”

“Wow, pulling the ‘helping the next generation card,’ really makes me feel good about my reason.”

“You and I both know that money wasn’t the only reason.”

“No, I guess it wasn’t the only reason,” Natuso sighed and looked around the apartment. It was just the three of them. Their mother was working late and Touya and Hawks had their ritual date night. The air felt weighted under the anticipation of Natuso’s next statement. “ He gave up on me and Fumi pretty quickly, but, as short as it was, training with him left a lasting impression. You and Touya had it so much worse.”

Natsuo laughed but it was strained. He blinked rapidly a couple of times, swallowing hard, despite the grim smile he wore. “I don’t have to tell you that. He abused you and Touya the worst. I remember all the blood and the bruises. And Touya, he just kept going back for more. He wanted it because he was convinced that it made him stronger. No one did anything. I didn’t do anything.”

One of the tears that he had been trying to blink away, fell down his cheek.

“We were just kids ourselves, Natuso,” Fuyumi said. The line sounded well-worn and rehearsed, like she had said it over and over to herself to fall asleep for years.

Natsuo continued, “We shared a room after Touya fell from grace. He still trained with Endeavor, but not as much. He would come in every night, crying. He barely would let me bandage his knuckles, saying he deserved it. And you, Shoto, you were starting to become bruised like Touya. You were so much younger and smaller. And then after… after, we were in the hospital a lot. I saw a lot there.”

“When we got settled into our first apartment, Mom was kind of fragile. Fumi took care of the housework for a while. I got really good at changing out bandages.” Natuso half-shrugged. “Being a doctor didn’t seem so hard after that. Anyway, let’s eat. I didn’t stress cook for nothing!”

“Wow, way to put my ‘helping the next generation’ card to shame,” Fuyumi feebly joked. 

Endeavor’s re-appearance had touched them all. It hadn’t destroyed them. Shoto’s siblings had come a long way. There was a time where Natuso would clam up, never speaking about any of this, let alone cry. Fuyumi, years ago, would never have tried to have made a joke out of it, no matter how small. To her, if it was anything less than serious, that minimized the effects of the trauma.

The food tasted saltier than usual. None of them commented on it. 

…

Shoto straightened from his bow, his gloved hands still pressed together. Around him, his family was doing the same. Next, they would get their ornaments for the year, see their fortune, and maybe have a drink and a snack. 

He didn’t know what to wish for. Should he ask the gods to let him go back to school? Should he ask the gods for direction on what to do with his life? Should he ask them to perform a miracle and have Izuku forgive him?

He’d had a lot of time by himself. After finishing all the assignments, except for the career sheet Aizawa gave him, studying for his tests, and a follow up therapy appointment, Shoto was left with a lot of time to think. His family had their respective jobs to do during the day. He didn’t go to the beach. There was no Izuku to hang out with, let alone beg for forgiveness. 

He had checked at the Midoriya apartment once. Toshinori had left a note shoved between the crack in the doorway letting any neighbors or friends know that they would be away, viewing cedar trees or something. It was a feeble excuse, considering they were going to go look at trees in the middle of winter.

“Here’s yours,” His mother dropped a good luck charm into his hand. It was for success.

“What am I supposed to be successful in?” He asked, turning it over in his hand to study the design. 

“Whatever you set your heart to. Maybe you’ll win that swim championship coming up.”

He nearly dropped his charm. “Does that mean that I get to go back to school?”

A wicked look came to her eye. “I’ve been having extensive talks with the principal over the phone. There are going to be a lot of changes, and a not so insubstantial monetary fee. You also won’t have to worry about your final year enrollment cost.”

“I’ll be the top of my class,” He assured, wanting to do everything in his power to keep her from changing her mind.

“I’m not asking that you do that, unless it’s something you want to do. All I want from you, Shoto, is to do your best to have a good time. You deserve that much after all that you’ve been through.”

Shoto hadn’t been through that much, but his mother wouldn’t hear a word of protest. Instead, she gathered up the family to go home. They had a birthday celebration to squeeze in before he needed to get packed and leave again for Tokyo.

…

His stomach twisted with nerves as he stood outside the classroom door. Shoto had just left the principal’s office where he was informed that he would be taking up the tests he had missed with one other student. Test anxiety wasn’t the cause of his sick feeling. He shook out his hand twice before he had enough nerve to open the door. 

Izuku was sitting across the room at his desk. The first thing that Shoto noticed was how long his hair had gotten.  The second thing he noticed was the surprised look on Izuku’s face. Izuku, of course, had been gone during the Endeavor incident and away during the whole break; he had no way of knowing that Shoto had been absent that last week of school too. 

Shoto had been so afraid of being separated from Izuku in their final year of school, that he had never taken into consideration his actual feelings of seeing Izuku again after their fight. He was going to be sick or faint or both. Maybe Izuku would catch him.

“Take your seat Todoroki,” Aziawa said. 

Right. Reality. Good thing he had therapy appointments set up over video call. 

“You have the same amount of time as the other students to take your tests, however, since it is only the two of you. As soon as you both finish a portion, we can move on to the next section. You two are smart. I plan to have all of your testing done today, so I can have it graded in time for the first day of the final semester.”

Both of them nodded. Shoto loosened his ponytail, letting his hair cover his peripheral vision. He dragged out each test for as long as he could, dragging out the time until he would have to confront Izuku. When it came to their lunch break, Shoto hid in a little-used bathroom 

He spent the second half of the testing period cursing himself for running away from his best friend. Could he even be called Izuku’s best friend anymore? Every tick of the clock sounded like ‘You’re smothering me!’

Shoto’s head was pounding at the end of the day. He had certainly failed every test. 

“Todoroki.” Aizawa waved for him to follow. He booked it after his teacher, who lead him into the teachers’ area.

Lying on the clean surface of Aizawa’s desk was the pool key. “Do you have that form for me?” 

Shoto dragged his eyes away from the key. He reached into his bag and pulled out the form, handing it over.

Aizawa glanced over it and raised an eyebrow. There was hardly anything written down.

“I thought about what you had asked me before I had left. I am still thinking about it. I haven’t come up with an adequate answer yet. I’m sorry.”

Aizawa laid the paper on his desk, rubbing his chin. “What did you think about?”

Shoto pointed at the chair next to Aizawa’s desk. His teacher nodded. 

Now seated, Shoto began, “My mother, my brother Natuso, and my sister, Fuyumi. They all have jobs that they are passionate about. They’re good jobs that give back to our community. Fuyumi is a teacher. Natsuo is studying to be a doctor. My mother works as a counselor for victims of abuse. These careers, their ideals formed from the difficult past experience with my father.”

“I always had this idea, maybe because of my family, that careers were supposed to be about passion. Supposed to serve a higher purpose. That’s so much weight on my shoulders. I’m not even an adult yet. I feel so ashamed that I don’t have a clear passion like they do. My first instinct isn’t to help others, to leave the world kinder than what I have experienced.”

“I talked with my classmates. Shinso’s job choice surprised me. He wants to be a veterinarian. Taking care of strays seems like a good fit for him, even if I thought that he would have picked up a job that looked after stray kids.”

“Uraraka told me she wants to be an astronaut because she loves space. I like to swim and be in the water, but can I make a career out of that? Do I want to make a career out of that? I am perfectly happy stocking shelves at my summer job, right now.”

“If someone were to look into my mind the day I applied to U.A., they would probably be disappointed by my reason for going. I wanted to stay with my childhood best friend. That was enough for me.”

Aizawa listened raptly through his monologue never taking his eyes off Shoto. “And now? Why did you decide to come back? Your mother made it clear, in no uncertain terms, the only reason that you were allowed back was because you wanted to be back” 

His teacher’s face was unreadable, giving away none of his thoughts.

“I made friends,” Shoto admitted, “I made friends that are some of the most driven people of my generation, and yet, they still have the time to be my friends. I get to see them everyday and be inspired by them everyday. I might not know what I want to do now, but there’s no better place to discover it. There was something that Kirishima said to me before break. He said that it was okay to change my mind. If I pick a career now, it’s not the end of the world if I completely change it. I can always use what I learned in another way.”

Shoto scratched his cheek and added one final thing, “Everyone says that a U.A. education can get you where you want to go. I figure even if I haven’t decided on something by the time I graduate, I’ve got a good education that I can put to use, and maybe some friends that can encourage me even after.”

The silence was so loud. He knew that his heartbeat could be heard out into the hallway. Aizawa leaned forward to tap his finger on his desk as he thought. Finally he pushed Shoto’s career paper back towards him.

“How do you feel about being an athletic coach?”

Shoto shrugged, “I guess a swim coach wouldn’t be bad, but can you make a career out of that?”

Aizawa nodded, “Yeah, it’s possible. I see your logic. I support you in your efforts to figure it out. Still, U.A. needs some paperwork so that we can put you in classes next year. Jot professional swim coach and we’ll be done with it.”

“It’s not a lie?”

Aizawa shrugged. “You said it yourself, you can always change your mind. This might be an excuse to get more pool time. Normally, you would have to cut back on your club activity time for preparation for college exams. You might be able to argue your way into staying swim captain your full third year as experience towards your career.”

Shoto filled out the form with no hesitation. Aizawa held up the key, just out of his reach.

“Why do you swim?”

This answer would never be hard for him to answer. “Because I love it. I have always loved to swim.”

Aizawa handed him the key. “Welcome back Captain. Practice will resume Tuesday, but you, Bakugo, and myself will have a meeting after school to prepare for the final competition in a couple of weeks.”

…

Touya surprised Shoto by lingering at the school gate. He was lazily smoking a cigarette underneath the sign that explicitly said no smoking. 

“I thought that you would have gone back by now,” Shoto admitted.

“Told mom that I would feed you and see you back to your apartment.” He led the way out the gate, “Can’t believe you didn’t ask to get out of that long ass test. The school would have done it. Where were you anyway? I’m fucking starving. Your boyfriend and his dad have already left.”

“He’s not–!!” Shoto whipped his head around, terrified of if Izuku or Toshinori still lingered.

“Relax, they already drove off.” Touya blew out a long stream of smoke.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s straight. He likes someone else.”

Touya gave Shoto a droll look. “Where’s the best ramen place around here?”

…

He could do this. He had the key in his hand. All he had to do was put the key in the lock, turn the key, and turn the knob. Shoto had insisted that Touya not follow him in, because he knew that his brother would not stand for him dawdling. Touya had all the delicacy of a bomb. He would take the key out of his hand and throw the door open like he owned the place. Shoto kind of wished that he had brought Touya along. He was going to end up standing outside of the door all night until someone called the cops on him for stalking.

How was he supposed to spend twenty-four hours alone with Izuku?

The clock on his phone said it was nearly eleven in the evening. Izuku would probably go to bed around two in the morning. Shoto could sneak in around four? Sleep and then make a bee-line to the grocery store and kill eight hours there. Sleep and then school. Yeah, that was doable. His arm was frozen to his side.

The door opened and Izuku stood there with a bag of garbage in his hand. Hawks hadn’t cleaned out the perishables in the fridge when he stopped by the apartment to grab Shoto’s stuff. 

“I’ll take it.” Shoto snatched it out of Izuku’s hand and was down the stairs. It was his fault that it wasn’t cleaned out properly. He should give the fridge a scrub, check the cabinets for anything that might have expired. He could tack on another two hours at the grocery store.

Now that Izuku knew he was back, Shoto couldn’t linger outside of the door anymore. When he let himself in, Izuku was hunched over the lap desk, watching a movie with headphones in. His back was facing the door. 

Silently, Shoto put away his dufflebag of things and laid out his futon. He faced the closet wall, back to Izuku. After about an hour, Izuku got up and turned off the lights, going back to his movie. 

Shoto buried his face into his pillow, this was going to be the rest of their lives wasn’t it?

Chapter Text

Izuku surprised him by being the one to leave for most of the day. He heard the door open and shut. He waited and when he dared to investigate, Izuku’s backpack was gone as well as his laptop. After an hour, when Shoto felt that Izuku really wasn’t coming back anytime soon, he got up to clean.

He cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, taking his time scrubbing until his arms felt like noodles. He did laundry, went grocery shopping. It was well past dark and Izuku still hadn’t returned. They had school tomorrow. First day of their last term as second years. 

Shoto wasn’t sure if he should make Izuku’s lunch.

‘You’re smothering me!’

In the end, he made himself supper and packed only his lunch. He left all the available ingredients ready in the fridge, things that would easily suggest a meal. He took his shower, feeling guilty, and laid out on his futon. He turned on the ancient radio tired of listening to the argument in his head.

When he woke up the next morning, Shoto was relieved to see a lump in the futon next to his. The green hair sticking out let him know that a homeless person hadn’t snuck in. He grabbed his backpack, swim bag, lunch, and the two gifts he had brought for Bakugo and Uraraka.

They were in the deep of winter, the windows outside the pool area were nearly black. The sun had another hour before it would be on the horizon. Steam wafted off the water. Shoto’s whole body tingled in anticipation. He dove in.

He worked out his sore muscles. He swam out his anxieties. They had less than two weeks before the championship. He and the team would be responsible for transforming this place. There would be banners and flags. Everything would have been scrubbed down until it gleamed. The day of, it would be loud, cheering from all sides. Almost all of the student body would be in attendance.

For now it was him, the water, and silence. Shoto smiled for the first time in nearly 48 hours. 

“I thought I’d find you in here.”

Shoto turned over from where he had been floating on his back. Bakugo stood at the edge of the pool, dressed in his winter gear. 

“You’re not going to swim?”

Bakugo shook his head. “Tomorrow. I had breakfast with Kirishima this morning. He was gone all break at that training camp.”

Shoto swam towards Bakugo, careful not to sling any water, or to drop to the bottom of the pool and drown himself as the guilt came crashing down. “Did he have a good time?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t shut up about it.” Bakugo absently scratched his cheek, hiding his small smile. 

“Did you have a good break?”

“Busy. Had to help the Old Hag with a fashion thing.”

“That’s good?” Shoto didn’t know what else to say. 

Bakugo looked down his nose at Shoto. Not in the distasteful way that he had, it was more of a serious analysis. He’d seen that look when Bakugo was about to dig into one of their teammates for their form. 

“How are you?” The question sounded as awkward as Shoto felt receiving it.

“Fine?” Shoto shrugged.

“Fine.” Bakugo narrowed his eyes. “Better not catch you lagging at practice.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Bakugo hung around while Shoto dried and changed into uniform. It was the perfect time to give him the lotion set.

“I already have this,” He grumbled ungratefully.

“The gift receipt is at the bottom if you want to change it in,” Shoto replied evenly.

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

Shoto stared into the middle distance, manually collecting his patience. He wished Kirishima was here to make sense of Bakugo for him.

Most everyone was already in the classroom when they arrived, excited to see each other after exams and a long break. 

Izuku was standing in middle of their friend group. He was smiling and his eyes were crinkled in the corners. 

“Oh, Shoto-kun, welcome back!” Uraraka rushed over and gave him a hug, surprising everyone. Shoto stared helplessly, his bags slightly raised. He wasn’t very good with physical affection outside of his family. His eyes flew instinctively to Izuku’s for help. Their eyes made contact, and at the same time they both must have remembered that this wasn’t allowed and looked away. Shoto jerked his eyes over to Shinso instead. 

Before Shinso could come to his aid, Uraraka grabbed his cheeks and man-handled his face down to her level. She analyzed him in a much more blatant and intense way than Bakugo had earlier. She hummed in different tones as she turned him this way and that, not so dissimilar to a grandmother looking over her long lost grandchild, or meat on sale at the supermarket. 

“We’ll talk later.” She decided.

Shoto feebly nodded. He’d wait to give her present to her then.

He put away his things and sat down at his desk. He could still feel everyone looking at him, but pretending like they were not. He had gotten some of the same looks when he was walking down the hallway. He was used to people staring, either because of his looks or because he was the swim team captain. These gazes felt different, heavier. That was to be expected, he supposed, when he had a very public meltdown. Perhaps, he should have listened to his therapist and come up with some coping strategies after all. 

“Don’t worry,” Shinso murmured from his desk, “Aizawa forbid anyone from bringing up the incident.”

“Can’t do much about the gossip.”

Shinso half nodded in agreement, “Midoriya’s back, so that will keep them busy. No one knew why he was gone.”

“What excuse has he given?” Shoto asked, making sure that he didn’t turn his head even the slightest in Izuku’s direction.

“He hasn’t told you?” Shinso sounded surprised.

“We haven’t exactly spoken since before break.”

“You live together.”

Shoto pressed his lips together in a tight line. “As I said.”

“Fuck. That means he doesn’t know about your stuff either?”

“He does not.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

At that moment, they were interrupted by class starting. Shoto dutifully took out his notebook and stared straight ahead. He was going to be the absolute top of the class in their final semester.

…

He met with Uraraka in an empty classroom during lunch.

“He’s sitting on a little moon! Oh my god, I love him so much. He’s my reason for living!” She held up the little plastic Kirby above her head and twirled around, sing-songing more praises.

Shoto couldn’t help but grin. It was a lot better of a reaction that Bakugo had given. 

“There’s that smile!” Uraraka beamed at him, “You’ve seemed kind of sad the whole day.”

“Just a little stressed, maybe.”

“Has anyone said anything mean to you? Because I’ll kick their ass!”

Shoto laughed, surprised. “No, no one has said anything.”

“Good, they better not!”

Shoto tapped the tip of his shoe against the ground. He'd practiced this in his head, but that didn’t make it any easier to say. “I want to apologize.”

“What for?” Uraraka stopped kissing her little kirby.

“For the past two years. I haven’t treated you like a friend should. I was jealous because of all the attention Izuku paid you. It took you throwing my father over your shoulder, for me to feel friendly to you. I know that it’s wrong and selfish of me. It’s not fair to you, who’s always been a good person, for me to start being nice back after you’ve done something for me. I wanted to give you something as a thank you, but it all feels kind of manipulative, false, transactional on my part.”

Uraraka rocked on her heels. She looked surprised, but also like she was considering his words carefully.

He let out a tired sigh, “I guess, I just want you to know that I see how problematic it seems, but I do sincerely want to thank you. That there’s not going to be any more hard feelings from me towards you. There’s also mochi in the bag too.”

Uraraka puffed up her cheeks and blew out a long breath. “Well that’s a lot to unpack. That’s the most that I’ve ever heard you speak in one go. Um… okay, first. I accept your apology. It’s a lot better than your last one. I already kinda understood why you didn’t like me because of Izuku.” Here, her cheeks turned bright pink and she faltered for a second. “I have such a crush on him!”

“I think everyone knows,” Shoto agreed.

Uraraka punched his arm. “Anyway! Yeah, I have a crush on him and he’s such a good person. Sometimes when I’m around him I feel like I’m not worthy. He’s so good at everything and what he’s not good at he’s a very hard worker. You’re both like that, Shoto-kun.”

“Um… thanks?”

“And he’s cute!”

“Very cute,” Shoto sighed in agreement.

“And you guys have been childhood friends forever. You know everything about each other, and you’re both hard workers and good at everything and are attractive. What I’m saying is, that you both are so good together. I understand why you were jealous. I am very jealous of you too,” She admitted.

“You’re jealous of me?” He shook his head. “Izuku’s in love with you, not me.”

Uraraka’s cheeks went a shade red that looked painful. She slapped her hands over her face and crouched down, hiding in her legs. “Gimme a minute, please.”

Shoto sat down cross legged next to her, waiting for her to recover.

“He really likes me?” She mumbled.

“Yes.”

“That’s, uh.” She fanned her face. “Wow.”

The next words that came out of his mouth were difficult, but not nearly as bitter as he expected them to taste, “You two should go out.”

Uraraka shook her head. “I can’t do that. Not when you love him!”

“But he doesn’t love me; he loves you,” Shoto argued.

“He loves you so much, Shoto-kun.”

“He… does love me” Shoto thought of the conversation he had with Shinso all those months ago about the weight of love. “He doesn’t love me in the same way that I love him. To him, me loving him romantically isn’t even an option.”

Uraraka threw her arms around him and pulled him close. She smelled like peaches. He let his chin rest on her shoulder, let himself be comforted, because saying all of this hurt. It was easier not to be looking her in the face when he confessed this next bit.

“I was angry that you hadn’t learned sign language. I was convinced that you couldn’t make him happy.  I used to think that you weren’t good enough for him. I was wrong. I was jealous and I didn’t want to see that you’re kind. You’re thoughtful. You’re smart. You’re strong. You’d be the perfect girlfriend for him.”

He felt her breath against his shoulder. “I’m selfish. I get jealous. I should probably learn more sign language. I’m most certainly not perfect.”

She released him, and they sat there, adjusting to their new understandings of each other.

“Do you think that we put him on a pedestal?” She asked with no hint of reproach towards either of them.

“Yeah,” He answered.

The clock ticked on the wall.

“It’s not fair to him is it?” He asked.

“No,” She answered.

“Are we rivals?” She asked.

“God, I don’t need another rival. Have you met Bakugo? He’s more than enough.”

Uraraka erupted into giggles. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right.”

With that she dug into her box of mochi and handed Shoto a pale pink one. He gave it a squish. “It’s like Kirby.”

“I know right!”

“Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I call you Ochako?”

She squinted her eyes at him. “Yeah, I’m insulted that you haven’t already.”

…

He stayed after school to talk with Aizawa and Bakugo about all the plans that needed to be put in place for the upcoming competition. The pool needed to be drained and cleaned, something that Shoto and his team were responsible for as good hosts. Decorations, flyers, practices on top of all that. When Aizawa left, Bakugo and Shoto took their planning to the nearest restaurant and put their heads together. Bakugo wouldn’t let him leave until the schedule was set in stone. 

Shoto yawned wide as he opened the door to the apartment, too preoccupied to remember to be self-conscious. His thoughts were on his homework and did he want to bother trying to put together a lunch this late. Shoto hardly noticed the package on the table when he sat at the kitchen table. When his elbow bumped the crinkly paper for the third time, he finally took notice of it.

A small square wrapped in tissue paper and tied with a bow. White paper with a red ribbon and a tag. It made no sense that Izuku would have left this on the table and not opened it?

Hesitantly, Shoto glanced over to his roommate.  Izuku was sitting near the window with the smaller portable desk and laptop. He was watching him. 

‘Yours?’ Shoto signed.

Izuku’s fingers fluttered until he clasped his own hands tightly. He shook his head, eyes darting from Shoto to the floor and back again. Shoto tentatively picked at the tag and flipped it over. The words were hard for him to understand. Not that he couldn’t recognize his name in Izuku’s handwriting, but why would he have a gift for Shoto?

Izuku read the confusion on Shoto’s brow and lips. ‘I was afraid that you would be gone before I had a chance to give it to you.’

Shoto’s face furrowed further.

‘Did you forget tomorrow’s your birthday?’

Shoto blinked. He had forgotten. 

Izuku always got him a present for his birthday ever since they were seven. He had been the first friend to ever get him a present, up until they had met, it had only ever been his family. 

Shoto had never quite gotten over the feeling of being seen . It was precious to get a gift from anyone, no matter what it was. Izuku, in particular, was always so thoughtful with what he selected. It was never a decision that went lightly. He’d watched Izuku agonize over what to get his parents for their birthdays every year. He knew that when it came to Shoto’s present it had been no different. 

For Shoto’s first birthday together, Izuku had made Shoto a comic book that he created. It featured Shoto and Izuku as the heroes. The faces of the background characters that they rescued from a godzilla sized tuna fish resembled their family members. Every detail had to have taken him hours. In retrospect, it was a wonder that Izuku’s secret hadn’t been found out sooner when his powers were breathing underwater and talking to animals. He could cajole the sea life into helping overthrow their fish overlord. Shoto’s own ‘humble’ powers were fire and ice. Ice perfect for freezing the gigantic fish to trap him, and fire for frying the fish for dinner. 

Shoto kept that comic book in the box with the love letter that he had penned to Izuku.

Izuku flapped his hand at Shoto to open it, his eyes back to burning holes on the floor.

He hadn’t expected to get anything at all from Izuku this year, and maybe never again. Shoto bit his lip and untied the bow. He didn’t feel like he deserved this, but it would only make things worse if he didn’t. In the circle of the tissue was a wooden comb engraved with waves on the handle. It smelled of cedar. Next to it was a small pendant, a drop of coral on a chain. 

He rolled the coral bead between his fingers, not sure what to say. Both of the gifts were beautiful. Did this mean that he was forgiven? Or were these gifts that he had gotten before they argued and Izuku was only giving them to Shoto because he had no one else to give them to? 

“Where did you get them?” He asked. These were crafted items that couldn’t be bought at a store.

‘The comb was from a temple that we visited for New Years. Dad likes to go to it because of all the cedar goods. We hadn’t gone in several years, and since Mom and I left him alone for a couple weeks to see family, we went down South for a couple of days. The coral I found while I was visiting Mom’s side of the family.’

“Did you make it into a necklace?”

Izuku scratched his cheek and looked away bashfully with a shrug. He had always been good at shaping things that came from the sea. Shoto didn’t know if it was a Mer quality or an Izuku quality. He’d never seen Inko do anything like it before. He could ask Shinso, he supposed, but that would take away the magic of not knowing. Shoto liked to think that it was an Izuku thing.

“Thank you.”

‘Do you like it?’

“Yes. Do you think I could wear it while swimming?”

‘The pool chemicals probably aren’t good for it. Also it might be illegal to own actual coral? It’s most certainly unethical. Coral are living creatures. With climate change and centuries of harvesting, it really should be illegal if it isn’t. So don’t go buying coral jewelry from anyone, okay? That was from a piece that was broken off naturally.’

Shoto nodded. It had been awhile since he had heard Izuku go on a tangent related to the aquatic ecosystems. 

“How was your trip?” Shoto hesitantly asked, since they were near enough to the subject.

Izuku pressed his lips together, clamming up. He shrugged, making a careless gesture that it was fine. 

Shoto mentally kicked himself for killing the mood. He folded and refolded the tissue paper, not sure how to rescue their conversation. Luckily, Izuku asked the next question. ‘What were you meeting Ochako for?’

Maybe it was his imagination, but Izuku seemed jealous. Did he think that he and Ochako were a thing? 

“I had a present for her. She helped me out before the break started and I wanted to properly thank her.”

Izuku still looked disgruntled.

“It was only a blind box toy Kirby and some mochi.” He left out that it was the fancy kind, figuring that would make it worse. “Bakugo helped me out too, and I got him a lotion set.”

‘Ah.’  

What did he mean by that? Izuku’s frown lifted into a more neutral line, but the wrinkle between his eyes remained as he looked at Shoto. 

That night laying down staring into the dark, Shoto breathed a sigh of relief. He pressed the smooth surface of the coral to his lips.

Chapter Text

“Shitty hair, stop spraying me and spray the damn pool!” Bakugo barked.

“I didn’t mean to spray you! I lost my balance trying to shift my crocs into sport mode!” Kirishima protested.

“Why are you even wearing your crocs in the fucking pool?”

“Because I’m not going to get my regular shoes wet?”

Shoto leaned on the broom that he was using to scrub the tiles, wiping the sweat from his brow. The week before the tournament, the pool had to be drained, scrubbed, and then refilled. Practice was, of course, canceled and it was up to the swim team to take care of the responsibility. It gave their minds and bodies a chance to focus on another task, refreshing them for the championship. 

High from the schoolwide winning streak, comradery had sprung up between the different sports teams and many people came to volunteer with the pool cleaning. Among the volunteers were most of the martial arts team and Shoto’s homeroom class. 

“Todoroki, are you ready to begin the next round of scrubbing?” Iida called down from above. He looked silly with a white headband on and a drum in his lap. He had been keeping up their rhythm and spirits with percussion. Sort of like tug-of-war, there was an amount of satisfaction working together at the same time to get something done. Or maybe it was more like sailors working together to haul up a large netful of fish. 

Shoto’s stomach growled at the thought of fish. They had already planned as a group to go out together after tonight's work for dinner. They only had a little more to do, he could power through a little longer. 

“Shitty hair!” Bakugo screeched. Shoto missed what had happened but he could deduce from the way the water hose was thrown wild, that Kirishima must have sprayed Bakugo again, and Bakugo had reached his breaking point. Shoto snatched up the water hose before water could go everywhere. Bakugo was on top of Kirishma as they wrestled on the tile.

“Stop flirting,” Shinso heckled from somewhere nice and dry. 

Shoto furrowed his brow and turned to where Shinso’s voice was coming from. “Are they dating?”

Shinso gave him a blank, yet somehow withering look. Abruptly his facial expressions rearranged to panic.

“Ahem,” A polite voice said. 

Shoto slowly turned to look behind him. Standing at the edge of the pool were Aizawa and a much shorter man with a scar over his eye. He was dressed in a suit which had been soaked through by the water hose that Shoto had been carelessly holding when he had turned to address Shinso.

“Ah,” Shoto said.

“This is the principal.” Aizawa said, perfectly dry but his voice strained.

“Ah.”

He hadn’t really seen their principal before. He didn’t remember the one time he had been in the office very well and his mother and Touya had handled all the other arrangements.

Shoto glanced from the Principal Nezu to Bakugo and Kirishima still wrestling on the floor. It was really their fault in the first place. He nodded to himself in conviction, and wordlessly turned the hose on to his co-captain. 

“I’m going to kill you.” Bakugo launched to his feet.

“Please do not lay hands on Todoroki,” Principal Nezu chimed in pleasantly, “If there is another incident with Todoroki, his mother has threatened to sue us and his brother has threatened to burn down the school. I have yet to add arson to our insurance policy.”

“Your brother would really burn down the school?” Kirishima asked, starfished on the ground.

“Yeah.” Shoto paused to consider. “When are you updating your insurance policy?”

“It goes into effect over the summer.”

Shoto sprayed Bakugo again.

“He can burn this place to the ground for all I care.” Bakugo proceeded to try and strangle Shoto with the hose.

“Iida, turn off the water, and everyone take a break,” Aizawa ordered.

Izuku threw a towel over Shoto’s head as soon as he had climbed out of the pool. He put an onigiri in his hand, Shoto gratefully shoved as much of it in his mouth as he could while Izuku dried his hair.

“You’re going to choke,” Shinso warned.

“Good.” Shoto shoved more into his mouth. 

Izuku swatted his shoulder in reprimand. 

“Deku, you were so smart to pack snacks. I’m so hungry that I could eat a horse. Who knew how much work this would be?” Uraraka unwrapped a rice ball. 

Shoto made grabby hands for another, which Uraraka handed him.

“Did you make these?” She asked Izuku.

He nodded.

“I make most of the food, but Izuku always has to make the rice. I can't cook rice correctly.” Actually, Shoto had mastered the rice cooker while Izuku was away, but why would he let Izuku know that?

“Who’s the better cook?” 

Both of them pointed at Shoto. 

“Izuku gets too restless in the kitchen when it comes to anything more than the basics. Which reminds me that I should prep some meals.”

“Why bother, it’s Valentines this week. You’re going to be swamped with chocolate. Hell, you’ll probably get good luck chocolate. Both are on the same day.” Shinso pointed out.

Suddenly, Uraraka had Shoto by the front of his shirt, face in his face. “I need you!”

Izuku and Shinso looked at her stunned. Shoto could only partly see her because of the towel. “Like now?”

She stood up on her tip toes and quickly whispered in his ear. It wasn’t ideal for Shoto, but he agreed anyway. He had some ground to make up in being a good friend. 

That’s how he ended up outside of her apartment the evening before the championship. Ochako opened the door and bodily pulled him in. “It’s Shoto/Ochako fun time power hour!”

“The chocolates are going to take a little longer than an hour if we want them to set properly,” He corrected.

Ochako shushed him and took the bag he was holding. “This is heavy! What all did you buy?”

“I didn’t know what supplies you had. I brought molds, bags, chocolate, nuts, sprinkles, and food coloring.”

“I knew I did the right thing in asking you for help!” Ochako dumped it all on the table, like a general surveying a battle map.

Shoto admitted, “I’ve never made chocolates before. I read up on some recipes and watched a couple of videos. It doesn’t look too hard. One girl was melting chocolate with a hair dryer.”

“We’re not using a hair dryer.”

“But we could .”

“Fine,” Ochako relented, “We’ll try the hair dryer method if we have anything leftover. I’m surprised that you haven’t made chocolates before. I thought you knew how to cook anything.”

“I know how to follow a recipe.” Shoto began sorting out the chocolate varieties, there were several. They could actually make a generous portion for the whole class if they wanted. “I’ve always been on the receiving end of chocolates.”

“Wow, way to rub it in.” Ochako started the double boiler on her small stove.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I was teasing. You can’t help it if people give you chocolates.”

“I usually ended up sharing them with Izuku and my brother Natsuo.” He had never talked about receiving valentines chocolates with a girl before. “Have you ever given anyone chocolates?”

“I gave out friend chocolates a bunch before high school. Some of my middle school friends gave chocolates to the boys they liked. Once, I was with one of my friends when she gave it to the boy she liked.” Her cheeks turned pink, but it could have been from the heat of the stove. “Honestly, it was a little embarrassing to be a part of the audience. I think it made it more awkward for the boy she had confessed to. Even if he liked her, I bet he would have had a hard time admitting it in front of others.”

Shoto shook his head, breaking up the chocolate into smaller pieces, before adding them to the bowl. “There shouldn’t be any shame in admitting you like a person. It’s the least the other person deserves.”

“So when are you going to tell Izuku how you feel?” She raised an eyebrow. Though she wasn’t as good at it as Shinso was, it still had that wry effect.

“It’s different. I’m not ashamed of how I feel about him. I don’t want it to change our friendship… I only now got him back as a friend.”

Ochako surprised him with a hearty hug from behind. 

“What was that for?” 

“You looked like you needed a hug. I’m glad that you two made up. Did you have a nice long talk?” She gave the first batch of melted chocolate one last stir before beginning to pour it into the mold. 

Shoto followed behind, plopping in shaved pieces of almond. “We didn’t really talk about it. He gave me a birthday present and that was it.”

Ochako slammed the pot down on the counter with some force. “What do you mean you didn’t talk about it? Even I know that it was a serious rift for the both of you not to be talking! You can’t just not talk about it Shoto-kun!”

“It’s not that easy,” Shoto tried to defend himself, “We both said things that we shouldn’t have said to each other.”

She smacked him on his shoulder, cheeks puffed up in irritation. “Then say that you were wrong and that you’re sorry. I know you know how to give a good apology. I will lock you both in a closet!”

“I’ve only just left it,” Shoto said weakly.

There was a beat of silence. Ochako’s face contorted painfully as she tried to keep a straight face. She failed, bursting out with laughter. “That was the worst joke!”

“Thank you, I don’t know where they come from.”

She clapped both hands against his cheeks, squishing his face. “I will lock you in a closet with him, I am dead serious.”

He didn’t doubt that she could drag him wherever she wanted by force. She had thrown a grown man twice her height and probably triple her weight over her shoulder. 

“Why are you so determined that we talk about this? Shouldn’t you be taking advantage and getting close to him?”

“No! That’s not manly behavior! Rivals need to meet on equal ground,” She insisted.

She went back to making chocolates and added, “Besides, both of you are my friends and I don’t like my friends not being friends.”

They made another batch in companionable silence. The batch after that, they had organically moved on to talking about Izuku. Ochako telling him what Izuku was like in martial arts practices and Shoto telling her what kind of chocolates Izuku liked best. While they bagged up the last of their hard work, Shoto asked, “Are you going to confess to him?”

Her cheeks went fluorescent and this time it couldn’t be blamed on the stove. “That’s why you asked me to come over, wasn't it? To find out what he likes?”

“I could have asked you what he likes over text. I wanted to have some personal friendship time, since we’re making up for lost ground.”

Shoto smiled a little, it was nice being told that people wanted to spend time with him. It was nice that he could gush about the boy he liked, and just be himself around a girl that didn’t have an interest in him romantically. Even though they met because of Izuku, their friendship didn’t feel like it was because of Izuku. He and Ochako made their friendship on their own terms. Terms that didn’t not involve Izuku, but there was so much room for growth. 

It quietly occurred to him, not for the first time, that he needed to grow out of Izuku. Not that it ever meant that he would stop loving Izuku, that would never happen. But he and Izuku had grown up attached at the hip. It was leading Shoto to unhealthy habits. He didn’t intend on being codependent. While their fight and separation hadn’t been ideal or happy, it was beginning to show him that he had a life that didn’t have to lead back in every way to Izuku. There were things that he didn’t have to tell his best friend. Friends, experiences, likes, dislikes, memories, precious things that he didn’t have to share with Izuku. 

Shoto felt a little left behind, not unlike the first days that they had attended U.A.. Izuku must have already figured out that he would have to outgrow Shoto. He was always thinking ahead in his what-if scenarios. He made friends. He’d fallen in love. He tried to become human, and all of this without really talking about it with Shoto. When was the last time that he knew Izuku’s own thoughts as well as he knew his own?

He and Izuku couldn’t be together forever. The best that he could hope for is that they would come back together someday. Until then Shoto would take another, unsteady step forward.

It was a lonely feeling. 

Growing up often was.

Ochako painted her nails, her hands steady. Shoto leaned into her side, watching her. “Ask him tomorrow. He won’t say no.”

It said something of her skill that when her hand jerked, she didn’t mess up her nails. “I’ll confess tomorrow if you confess tomorrow.”

“If I win the championship tomorrow, I’ll confess. If I lose the championship, you confess.”

“You’re not going to throw it because of me, are you?” She looked at him suspiciously. 

“I would never let my team down like that.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Fine. But win or lose, you have to talk to Deku-kun. Properly.”

“Fine,” Shoto echoed her.

Ochako held up her nails for them both to examine. She painted them the school colors of green and orange. “Wanna try?

Shoto tried painting her other hand. She made it look much easier than it was.

“I'm relieved that there’s something you’re not a natural at.” She took his hand and painted one of his pinky fingers green and the other gold. “For victory.”

“Victory,” He quietly cheered, hoping that they both could somehow win tomorrow.

…

“LISTEN UP EXTRAS!” Bakugo roared. The locker room was more than a little noisy with the pre-competition nervous chatter. Every head swiveled to their direction. 

“Thanks, Bakugo.” Shoto thought about it and added, “Don’t call our teammates extras.”

It was a little unnerving with every pair of eyes on him. They all wanted the assurance of victory. No one wanted to fail when everything was on the line and all of the school was there to witness it. He thought about what kind of speech Mirio would have given in a time like this. He couldn’t quite imagine what he would say, there would be a lot of posing involved. 

“I brought good luck candy.” Shoto held open the bag that he had been carrying around all day. He had made enough for the whole team and a couple of extra. His whole team stared at him, bemused.

“I can’t tell you if we’re going to win or not; I can’t see into the future. I have seen the hard work that each and everyone of you have put in this whole season. I’ve seen how much harder that you’ve trained in the past couple of weeks. I have confidence in every swimmer that you can win your race.  I couldn’t be any prouder of each and everyone of you.”

Kaoru looked ready to burst into tears. Bakugo grabbed a treat bag and shoved it into his hands before he had a chance to.

Kaoru sniffed, “Are these homemade?”

“Yeah, I made them with the help of a classmate.” Shoto didn’t want to take all of the credit.

“Our Captain is really the best!” Kaoru shoved a fist full into his mouth and chewed with determination. 

“You might not want the whole bag right before we swim, but a piece couldn’t hurt. You can have the rest after, win or lose.”

Then a stampede of his teammates were upon him, grabbing chocolate, thanking him, patting him on the back, vowing to win for him. It was all a little much, but Shoto did his best to accept all of their feelings. 

It was time to get in the pool. 

…

His team performed swimmingly. Each one taking first or second place. The scores between U.A. and Shinketsu were neck and neck, merely half points in difference. Bakugo broke one of the nationwide records for highschool swimming. Gods, he was going to be insufferable.

Shoto mounted the diving block, curling his toes around the rough edge. His was the last race, the deciding factor on which school won. All of his homeroom were in the front row. His mother, Natsuo, Inko, Toshinori, and Hawks were squeezed in somewhere in the audience. No pressure, none at all. 

He took a steadying breath. He had never gotten nervous before a competition, anxious with anticipation maybe, but he had never felt like he wanted to run away before. 

Green eyes found his before he had the chance to seek them out. Izuku’s cheeks were striped twice over in war paint. The bottom colors were U.A.’s. Above the green and orange were red and white. The effect clashed horribly. Shoto could not be more endeared more. 

‘Win for me.’ Izuku signed silently amongst all those cheering Shoto’s name. Did Izuku know about his and Uraraka’s bet?

In that instant, Shoto imagined pulling himself out of the pool, water streaming off his body. Izuku is waiting, arms open. Shoto cups Izuku’s cheeks in his hands, smearing the paint, feeling scales pebble under his touch. He presses his lips to Izuku’s and kisses him for everyone to see. Kissing him until it feels like they’re both drowning. 

There is no time for Shoto to respond. The whistle is shrill and Shoto is one of Pavlov’s dogs.

…

Shoto pulls himself out of the pool, water streaming down his body. There is water in his ear, so it’s difficult to hear what’s being said. He doesn’t need to hear when he can see the reactions of the audience, when he can see Izuku’s face. 

He knows that he lost. 

It isn’t a jubilant, victory kiss that he receives once he’s toweled off, it’s a hug of reassurance and comfort.

He had lost to Shinketsu by .002 of a second. 

Shoto was in the center of a whirlpool of affection, commiseration, consolation. Words like “Don’t take it to heart” or “you’ll get them next year” or “I’ll bite that guy’s ankles off” (he wasn’t sure if it the threat was from Bakugo or Uraraka) 

 His feelings haven’t caught up to him yet, they’re still in the pool. 

Even after Aizawa’s consultation, even after saying his closing remarks to his teammates, even after he was sitting down at the restaurant surrounded by his closest friends and family, he wondered if he deserved any of their warmth? None of them could have known in the last precious second, Shoto hesitated to touch the wall. 

If he had won, he would have had to confess to Izuku. If he had won, Uraraka would have lost. He would be keeping two people that really liked each other apart. Losing was the safest option. The option that would make everyone happy. 

He leaned into Izuku’s side. Izuku leaned right back. Under the table he threaded their fingers together and gave Shoto a squeeze. He looked up at Shoto, questioning. His eyes were a little puffy around the edges. 

Shoto  didn’t need anything. He had everything he could need at the moment. He closed his eyes, feigning tiredness, letting himself sink more into Izuku. He wouldn’t be allowed to do this for much longer. The ‘grieving time’ over their loss would pass soon enough and Uraraka would be Izuku’s girlfriend. Shoto couldn’t do this anymore.

It had been so long since he had done this, trying to meld into his best friend so they would never be separated. He was surprised to notice that the contours of Izuku’s body didn’t feel as familiar as they once had. There were muscular angles that hadn’t been there before, and while Shoto was still taller than Izuku, their bodies no longer fell in the exact same place as they had in middle school.

When Natuso piled Shoto’s plate high with meat, Shoto finally made himself sit upright and properly face the future. 

…

Shoto had rolled off his bed sometime during the night. He could feel the weave of the mat impressed onto his face. The taste of defeat had caught up to him while he slept. He had let his team down. He had every intention of winning his race, truly he did. It was at that very last second that he considered losing. He had only considered it, he had never planned to lose. All it took was .002 of a second. The floor was where he belonged, at least for today. It was his right to wallow.

He had slept deeply, following the nerves and exertion that had plagued him for weeks. They had gotten home late from the commiseration barbeque, stuffed and exhausted. He cracked his eye open to see what time it was. Izuku was lying on his side looking at Shoto directly in the face. His roommate was already dressed. 

“Hello?” Shoto greeted.

‘We’re going out,’ Izuku signed.

So much for his wallow day, Shoto sat up and complied with a sigh. 

‘That’s the spirit!’

Shoto flopped back down, making Izuku drag him upright, it would have been more fun if Izuku had any trouble at all picking him up. 

…

“Really?” Shoto asked as the crowd streamed around them, Izuku guarded his left side. “The aquarium?”

Izuku produced their tickets with a grin. Shoto was surprised that Izuku was excited to go at all. Fish and sea life in captivity to be gawked at. Izuku could just jump into the harbor and see all of this whenever he wanted to. 

‘Uraraka suggested that we should go. She went with Tsu a few months ago and said it was a lot of fun.’

Of course she had. All the couples that they had to wade through had nothing to do with it. He was going to have a talk with her about her shojo tastes if she thought that this was a good set up for a date. And it would not be a date. He would be sure to inform her. 

‘I had planned to take you here after you won the championship… I already pre-bought the tickets,’ Izuku sheepishly explained.

“I mean, I don’t mind going, but won’t it be boring for you?”

Izuku vehemently shook his head. ‘I get to see penguins and spend time with you.’

Not a date. Not a date. Not a date . Shoto chanted as Izuku presented their tickets. Izuku had no idea what he was doing to Shoto, none at all. And to top it off, Izuku took Shoto’s left hand when they got into the exhibits.

Izuku caught the look on Shoto’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’

The hand holding meant nothing to Izuku, absolutely nothing. In his mind the facts of the matter played out as such: It was crowded because everyone and their grandmother wanted to be at the aquarium today. Izuku didn’t want them to get separated so it was only logical for them to stick close. They held hands all the time when they were smaller, what difference did it make now?

“Teenage guys generally don’t hold hands in public,” Shoto mumbled.

‘Are you saying we’re too old?’

Bless him, Izuku was too dumb to be as smart as he was. “Would you hold hands like this with Ochako?”

Izuku’s face went bright red all the way to his ears. ‘She’s not you.’

“Shinso then? Would you hold his hand?”

He furrowed his brow in thought. ‘I don’t exactly want to. I could though.’

Maybe he should just say no to this not-date. His heart couldn’t take the highs and lows. Izuku felt comfortable holding only Shoto’s hand. No one else. Yet there was no romantic intention behind it. It must have been like holding hands with his parents.

‘Do you want me to let go?’

Shoto glanced behind them, keenly aware that they were blocking the flow of traffic. If he didn’t see any harm in it, then why point it out. This was supposed to be a cheering up kind of day. He assuaged his guilt by promising that he wouldn’t hold any tighter. If Izuku wanted to let go, then he could let go.

He began to guide them towards the penguins. The crowd around the penguin exhibit was thick. While they waited their turn to go to the front, Izuku began signing. ‘I would love to be able to swim with penguins.’

“It would be cold.”

‘It would take some time to get acclimated but after that, no problem. I think Mom mentioned that she’s met some of the merfolk that lived near the South Pole. She thought they were a little reserved. They have their own culture and differing physical traits.’

He paused and then added, ‘I wonder if penguins would make good pets. One of my distant cousins keeps a stingray as a pet.’

“Is it like keeping a dog or cat?”

‘Kind of? They’re not what humans would consider domesticated, you have to be careful that they don’t sting you. More like keeping a venomous snake. I didn’t pay it much attention when I was over last. I had other things on my mind.’

Did he mean over winter break? It was their turn at the front, and the conversation dropped off as Izuku practically pressed his nose to the glass. Shoto caught his own fond smile in the reflection, but didn’t bother to hide it; Izuku was so engrossed with trying to get a good picture on his phone. 

‘We saw what I wanted to see. What would you like to see next?’

“Jellyfish.”

Izuku nodded, consulting the map downloaded to his phone. He still held Shoto’s hand. There were new scars on his fingers, no doubt from martial arts. His nail beds were healing from where they had been picked at. What had made him anxious?

Izuku guided them this time to the jellyfish room. It was dimly lit, colored lights catching trailing tentacles, billowing hoods. It had the same calming effect as listening to a heartbeat or deep breathing. The room was relatively empty, plenty of places to sit. 

He and Izuku settled on a bench, looking up at the ceiling where the jellyfish became heavenly bodies. Izuku leaned into his side, warm and solid in the cool space.

“I could stay here all day,” Shoto admitted. 

Izuku wrote on the back of Shoto’s hand with a finger. ‘We can stay here until it closes if that’s what you want to do. I don’t mind.’

They sat in uninterrupted silence for half an hour. Shoto snuck a glance at Izuku, who looked just as content as Shoto felt.

“It’s nice that we can watch the jellyfish together and I don’t have to worry about breathing.”

Izuku smiled. ‘It’s strange to watch the water currents and not feel them.’

Izuku twirled a piece of Shoto’s hair around his finger, thoughtfully. A myriad of expressions passed over his face. The far away look of wistfulness in his eye. A frown pulling disappointed lines then softened in hope. A rueful twist of his lips in bitterness, bitten off in hesitance. ‘I’m sorry for what I said to you before break.’

“You don’t have to be sorry, especially if you’re just saying it to make me feel better. Your anger at me was justified. I shouldn’t have lied to you or pushed you. I was being inconsiderate of how much you were hurting. I could have handled it so much better.”

‘I’m not saying it to make you feel better. I really regret what I said.’

Shoto shifted so that they were more facing each other, despite wanting to run away. His hand was coated with sweat, but Izuku held on.

‘I don’t regret being angry.’ He admitted with much shame.

Shoto nodded, wanting Izuku to admit his anger, expecting and bracing for it, didn’t make it any easier to swallow. 

“Do you still want to make yourself human?”

Izuku shrugged, mouth pressed into a wobbly thin line. ‘I don’t know what I want.’

They fell silent again for a long time.

‘Would you accept me if I decided to be human?’

Could he accept Izuku if he became human? He thought back to that night when both of their emotions were boiling over. He remembered thinking that he didn’t want Izuku to change himself, because Izuku was perfect the way he was. That would always and be forever true. 

Going deeper, to the root of the emotion, he was furious that Izuku would change himself for Ochako. He was picking Ochako over Shoto. He would lead a human life with Ochako and not Shoto. 

The pure intentions and the ugly feelings, both were true. He had held both of them in his heart at the same time. Skipping over the intrusive thoughts that said he wasn’t worthy of Izuku’s friendship or love, hard as it was, he asked himself a different question. 

Would he accept Izuku if he decided to be human and he chose to live and love Shoto?

Would he accept Izuku if he decided to be human if he chose to live and love Ochako, after letting go of the worst of his jealousy?

If being human was truly what Izuku wanted, Shoto would.

“I can’t promise how gracefully I’ll accept it, at first. It’s always terrifying when things change, isn’t it? But I would never reject you, I don’t think it’s humanly or inhumanly possible for me to reject you.”

Izuku squeezed Shoto’s hand so tight that it was painful. He felt hot drops of salt water on the back of his hand. Instead of offering Izuku his handkerchief like he normally would have, Shoto used the corner of his sleeve and wiped away the tears himself. He had to use their joined hands to nudge Izuku’s chin up. So much for not indulging in his feelings.

Izuku couldn’t write on Shoto’s hand as it was busy, so he dragged his finger down his chest, over his heart. ‘You’ll always be my best friend. Always.’

Shoto felt his own vision blurr, they both couldn’t be crying. If he started to cry, experience said Izuku would only cry harder, and he only had the one handkerchief. Shoto blinked back tears, swallowing forcefully several times around the lump in his throat. He held up his pinky finger.

“Promise?”

Izuku already locked his own pinky around Shoto’s before he finished getting the word out. 

They stayed for another two hours in the jellyfish room. True to his word, Izuku would have sat with Shoto there all day. It was after several pointed looks by attendants, that Shoto decided to finally move on. Mutually, without a word, they both decided to head towards the exit and gift shop. 

Shoto bought Izuku a fluffy penguin keychain and Izuku got Shoto a glass jellyfish paperweight. He would add it to their window shrine when they got home. 

‘Sorry this ended up being such a heavy day. I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this.’

“Honestly, I feel better than I have in weeks.”

‘Well since we’re already kind of around the topic. Do you… um want to talk about the incident with your father?’

“Not today,” Shoto said a bit too abruptly according to the way Izuku's face fell. “I don’t mean, never, just not today I don’t have your stamina when it comes to emotions.”

‘But we will talk about it. I mean, if you’re comfortable. I want you to be open to me about your problems too! And not just your problems.’ Izuku pulled his hair in earnest frustration. ‘Not that I’m negating your problems. What I’m saying is, I want us to talk again.’

Shoto wanted that too, even though it was easier said than done. No matter what they talked about, Shoto had to keep some of himself back. He had too.

No, Shoto didn’t have to. His Shinso tinged consciousness reminded him. Shoto knew what the heady relief of the confession would feel like.

He had thought several times today about confessing his feelings to Izuku. A little voice that sounded like Ochako urging him to go for it. Izuku had promised, You will always be my best friend. Always.

It wasn’t even that he didn’t trust Izuku to keep his promise. Shoto had been living with this part of himself secret for so long, it felt like it was a part of him, like his hair color. If Izuku said no, even if Shoto didn’t fall in love again, he would still move on.

He would have to face the question: Who was Shoto if he wasn’t in love with Izuku?

He balled his hands up and shoved them in his pockets. He wasn’t brave enough to face that answer yet.

…

Uraraka waited two weeks after the swim competition to make her move. Izuku came home with a bag of homemade chocolates and near permanent blush. The smile that he wore was one that Shoto had never seen before. A small, shy smile, like he couldn't believe his luck. 

He congratulated Izuku in person by making his favorite katsudon for dinner and congratulated Uraraka with a text. He powered down his phone and allowed himself to have a good cry, after he was sure Izuku was asleep.

It was what all three of them wanted.