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Amajiki Tamaki’s eyes widened as he watched his classmate, Togata Mirio slowly sink through the brick wall they’d been sitting on. The five year old let out a small whine and jumped to his feet.
“Togata! Y-y-your quirk,” the dark haired boy managed, wringing his hands together and covering his face. They weren’t supposed to use their quirks in public! There were so many people around and now they were all going to turn and look at them!
“Ooh, oops!” Togata Mirio said with a bit of a worried chuckle. “I didn’t even… realize,” his voice slowly drifted off as he moved to stand and extract himself from the brick, only to realize he couldn’t. Like trying to wiggle his ears or lift his eyebrows he couldn’t recall exactly how it was he used his quirk. He hadn’t even realized he was sinking—how was he supposed to remember how to fix it?
Tamaki’s eyes began to water behind his fingers and his mouth felt dry. He peered out from his inefficient hiding place and watched his classmate struggle to free himself. What if he couldn’t do it? What if he got stuck forever! He was struggling louder and louder and surely any moment now the adults would all turn.
Mirio found his hands were solid enough to push against the brick wall. He slapped them against the rough surface repeatedly, straining to lift himself to no avail. It wasn’t necessarily painful or heavy, it was as if Mirio had simply wedged himself into a hole too small and couldn’t quite wiggle free. It was a sensation he was becoming more and more familiar with.
Tamaki’s stomach rolled and he dropped a hand from his eyes to cover his mouth. His throat became dry and tight all at once. The shorter boy quickly pressed his face into the crook of his elbow, still holding the other hand to his mouth to prevent building sobs from making any noise. Tears ran hotly down his cheek. Where was the teacher? He would have to find her…
Mirio grunted with effort and pressed his tongue out between pursed lips. He glanced over the brick wall to where he could now just barely see his feet on the other end and he kicked them experimentally. He’d somehow sunk further while trying to get himself out. He felt fear start to eat at the corner of his vision just slightly.
“Amajiki, can you—“ Mirio glanced to his companion and his voice stopped. The other boy was doubled over himself, crouching with both hands to his face as if he was going to fall apart. Mirio blinked as he watched Tamaki’s shoulders start to shake, tears dripping very clearly off the other boy’s chin.
Tamaki couldn’t breathe anymore. He began alternating between gasping and gulping for air and holding his breath until he started to feel dizzy. Mirio needed help and he couldn’t help. He just needed to ask for it, he just needed to speak up to-to… His lips pulled back in a grimace. He couldn’t do it!
Mirio watched Tamaki for another moment before surging forward in concern. Passing through the brick wall as if he’d never been stuck, he stepped onto the pathway in front of Tamaki. He slowly crouched down to be at his friend’s level, hands on his knees. He tried to stare in to see Tamaki’s face but all he could see were shaking hands.
“Amajiki?” Mirio pressed, cocking his head from side to side as the other boy refused to look at him.
Tamaki’s head was swimming with the thudding of his own heart. His pulse was in his ears like thunder that shook his whole house. He could barely breathe against the rock in his throat and every swallow hurt. His tears were streams down his face and any minute he was going to throw up.
Mirio cautiously reached out and put a hand on Tamaki’s shoulder. The blond’s eyebrows knitted together as his companion flinched from the contact like it had hurt him. Mirio paused and pulled his hand away, looking at it in confusion. Looking back to Tamaki the boy assumed his upset friend was ill—sometimes when Mirio was sick his whole body hurt, and touching was not pleasant.
Tamaki began rocking on his feet in his balled position. He quickly dropped his head and pressed it tightly to his knees, wrapping both arms instantly over his head. He wanted to sink into the ground like Mirio. He wanted to vanish. He wanted to stop being there and be nowhere and everyone was watching him and they were pointing and they wanted him to do things and he couldn’t and Mirio needed him and he was too scared to help and if anything happened to Mirio it would be Tamaki’s fault and—
“T-tamaki?” Mirio whispered in concern, inching a little closer. His eyes lit up as the other boy slowly peered up at him. Mirio offered a smile but it did not seem to help Tamaki. The other boy was still crying, breathing funny and his lips looked a little blue. Mirio’s chest felt tight.
“Are you ok?” Mirio pressed, but received no answer. He watched Tamaki watching him and slowly realized that his friend was not really looking at him. He set his face in determination.
“You can’t talk?” Mirio offered, nodding to himself when there seemed to be no change in Tamaki’s state. “Ok uhm… you don’t have to talk,” he shifted his weight. He wanted to help but he couldn’t see how. He tried to study the other boy and figure out what had caused the problem when it dawned on him that Tamaki was attempting to hide.
Tamaki’s eyes slowly remembered how to work as the form of Mirio in front of him moved. Tamaki blinked away furious tears and tried to focus on the blurred vision in front of him. His eyes cleared just in time to watch Mirio’s hoody swing over his head and cover him. The cool, darkness that followed started to calm Tamaki’s jumping stomach.
Mirio fixed the hoody to cover as much of Tamaki as he could manage and then he moved back to crouch in front of his companion. He couldn’t see Tamaki’s face in the shadow but he could see the other boy’s body start to slow just a little. He listened carefully as Tamaki began breathing again; it was like the other boy had just run a whole lot but it was better than the gasping he was doing earlier.
Tamaki felt feeling return to his body in painful tingles, like all of him had fallen asleep. His face was hot from embarrassment, his ears burned and his nose was stuffed. His head hurt and his stomach was sore… but he was able to breathe and he didn’t feel like he was going to throw up anymore. He slowly lifted his head.
Mirio beamed as he watched Tamaki’s head rise slowly. The blond nodded and met dark eyes.
“You don’t have to talk,” Mirio assured the other boy, “but there’s nothing to be scared of, ok?” Mirio leaned awkwardly to the side to peer further into the hood where Tamaki had vanished.
“Togata! Amajiki! There you are,” huffed their teacher, pausing to catch her breath. “I warned you two not to lag behind.”
“I’m sorry teacher,” Mirio said quickly, watching Tamaki’s tears start up once more. The blond stood and put himself between the dark haired boy and their chaperone.
“I got tired and sat down and since Amajiki is my buddy he had to stay with me. It’s not his fault,” Mirio folded his hands behind his back and grinned.
“Togata!” The woman yelped as the blond boy stood up. “Where on earth are your pants!?”
Tamaki slowly peered over from the cover of Mirio’s jacket. All he could see was the pale, round and naked butt of his companion. It almost made him laugh—Mirio was naked again. It would have been very embarrassing, had it happened to Amajiki, but Mirio didn’t seem to mind. Plus, if Mirio was naked then very few people would care about the little ball that Tamaki had turned into.
Hidden in his best friend’s jacket, Tamaki almost smiled.
~*~
Mirio was sprinting across the gym floor before he knew what he was doing. He could hear the teacher blowing his whistle as he ducked under the volley ball net, but he didn’t stop. His sneakers squeaked painfully against the flooring but he kept going.
The teacher had assigned them all to teams but hadn’t put Tamaki on Mirio’s. Both boys had been disappointed but Mirio thought they would be ok. He’d watched nervously—ignoring his own team—as Tamaki was almost surrounded by unfamiliar students. Mirio was quite certain they hadn’t met to set off the dark haired boy, in fact he was sure they were just trying to be friendly, but it wasn’t working.
Mirio’s heart had almost stopped as he watched from across the gym as his friend pressed his hands to his ears. None of the other students understood. Mirio’s heart leapt into his throat and he sprinted across the gym in almost record time.
The blond skidded to a halt, shoving away a student perhaps a little too roughly. The nine year old placed himself between Tamaki and the other, now very confused students. Panting hard to catch his breath Mirio tried to hold up a hand.
“Togata! What is the meaning of this?” The teacher shouted, storming over.
Mirio tried to catch enough air in his lungs to answer. Behind him he heard Tamaki let out a small sob, and Mirio felt the breeze as the dark haired boy suddenly squatted into a ball. Mirio glanced over his shoulder as Tamaki wrapped both hands over his head and pressed his face into his knees.
“Ahh—Amajiki?” The teacher’s attention was softened and concerned at once. He started forward towards what was clearly an upset student when Mirio reached out and grabbed his forearm. The man raised his eyebrows.
“Togata?”
“I uh—let me take him to the nurse,” Mirio said quickly, once more moving in front of Tamaki. He met the older man’s eyes and tried to convey as much as possible with a simple look. He’d been told for years that his face was hard to read—his eyes like his father’s were very strange—and he’d never really disliked it until that moment.
“A-all right,” the teacher said, stepping back, “don’t goof off. The rest of you: New teams in the meantime!”
Mirio turned quickly to Tamaki and squatted down.
“Amajiki,” he started in a calm tone, “it’s just us. I uh—don’t talk, but can you—can you stand?” Mirio reached out to put a hand on Tamaki’s shoulder but stopped himself. He let his fingers linger uselessly in the air a moment before balling his hand into a fist and pulling it away.
Tamaki had lost track of time and could barely tell up from down. His lungs didn’t want to expand and his stomach wanted out. His body shook with each overwhelming thud of his heart and his fingers tingled painfully over his head. They had all asked questions—so many questions—and he should have known the answers they were simple questions but there were so many and Tamaki didn’t know any of their names and they were all waiting for him to respond and it was up to Tamaki and he couldn’t get away and they thought he was weird and…
The dark haired boy could suddenly hear his voice through the ringing in his ears. It was a calm and confident sound, so different from the rushing water and piercing ring which drown out even his own thoughts. He knew that voice—it was Mirio’s voice.
Could he stand? Where were his feet? Did he have feet? He wiggled his toes experimentally in his shoes and was relieved to find that he could do this. His heart was going to explode and his head was going to cave in on itself. He had to press his face into his knees and his arms to his head or he would simply come apart.
“Amajiki,” Mirio said again, keeping his tone even and calm, “can I help you stand?”
Mirio paused and glanced over his shoulder. There were a few students still watching curiously and the blond swallowed hard. He turned back to Tamaki and took in a deep breath. He reached out and let his hands hover just inches away.
“I’m—I’m going to help you stand now,” he paused, “I’m going to uhm… I’m going to touch your arm and your-your back, Amajiki.”
Mirio hoped the warning would be enough but he couldn’t wait. The longer they remained the more likely it was that someone else would approach them and make things worse. Mirio knew that if he could get Amajiki somewhere alone and quiet that it was the best chance for stopping the attack.
Tamaki was trying to remember how to work his mouth when he felt something suddenly on his arm and his back. Rationally, somewhere, he knew the touches were soft but he couldn’t hold on to that rationale. Hands landed on him with a thundering power, like shattering glass and splintering everything that was holding him together. The hands were sharp and red hot.
Mirio winced as Tamaki reacted to his touch. The boy flinched and Mirio even heard a soft whimper. It made the blond feel awful but he felt like he didn’t have a choice. He didn’t want to touch Tamaki if Tamaki didn’t want to be touched—the idea of hurting him made Mirio sick—but it seemed like the only option.
“I-I’m sorry, Amajiki,” Mirio whispered as he gently urged the other boy to his feet, “but once we get away it’ll be better.” Mirio felt his heart break as Tamaki started to cry in earnest, small sobs drifting up from where he’d crossed his arms in front of his face. The blond found himself almost dragging/pushing the other boy out of the gym. He didn’t want to do this, any of it, but he knew it had to be done.
“It’s ok, Amajiki,” Mirio offered calmly, “we’re almost there. Just a few more steps.”
Tamaki’s body was alight with fire and oversensitive. His skin was taut and bruised under Mirio’s hands, shivering though everything was burning up. He wanted to shake off the other boy and run and just keep running until his body gave out—the problem was he felt filled with lead and knew he couldn’t run if he tried. He gave up trying and gave in to sobbing and crying, seeking some relief through the release.
“Hang in there, Amajiki,” Mirio continued hearing his own voice waver. He swallowed and put on a determined face, pushing open the double doors of the gym and urging Tamaki into the closed, quiet and empty locker room.
As they turned a corner and silence echoed Tamaki’s sobs back at him, the black haired boy ripped out of Mirio’s hands. The blond winced as if he’d been struck and offered no resistance. He stepped back and curled his hands against his stomach as if they had somehow offended him.
Tamaki quickly found the safety of a cold wall, blocked in on either side by tall lockers. He squeezed himself into the narrow opening and shoved his forehead into the tile. He managed a shaky breath and placed his hands on either side of his head. He could feel his body again, slowly, returning to him like waking from a bad dream.
Mirio rubbed the heel of his hand into his eyes to ward off his own tears. He didn’t like how Tamaki had pulled away so quickly, like it was gross that Mirio was touching him. He knew that wasn’t what Tamaki thought—he knew the boy was just fighting a battle nobody could see—but it didn’t feel good. Mirio just wanted to help. He swallowed his own upset and moved to sit on a bench near Tamaki.
Tamaki listened to the sound of his shallow breathing echoing in the small space he’d put himself in. Slowly the ringing in his ears died down, the rushing water stilled until it was lapping gently at some distance shore. His throat was still clenched tightly, his chest still ached like a weight had been left there, but he was starting to feel normal… or what passed as normal.
“I’m sorry I touched you, Amajiki,” Mirio said quietly from his seat. “I just really wanted to get you out of the gym,” he sniffled quietly and kicked his legs—which didn’t quite reach the ground—trying to keep his act together. Tamaki needed him to be strong.
Tamaki’s lower lip quivered as he heard Mirio’s voice; it sounded small and hurt. Tamaki felt guilt rising up like bile in the back of his throat. He opened his mouth to speak but felt suddenly sick to his stomach. He gulped at cold air and pressed harder against the wall instead. His shoulders shook as he started crying again.
“Don’t cry, Tamaki!” Mirio said suddenly, pumping a fist into the air. “I didn’t mean to make you sad! I know you’re fighting really hard and fighting is tough. I’ll just wait here until you feel better and then I’ll give you a hug. That’ll help both of us!” Mirio grinned widely, pausing. “That is, if you want a hug,” Mirio tried not to make it sound like he would be upset if Tamaki said no.
Tamaki took a slow breath and closed his eyes. In his mind he could see Mirio beaming at him from under his own jacket, years ago in a busy park.
“I—I would like a hug,” Tamaki said quietly, almost grinning at the triumphant shout behind him.
~*~
The festival grounds were suddenly flooded with people. They were cheering and waving flags and the security guards chuckled as the whole stadium overflowed with joy. It was such a different experience from Mirio’s first Sports Festival—where the crowds had been much more divided. This time there was something special amidst the masses, some kind of common joy shared amongst each and every person on the field.
Mirio’s cheeks hurt from smiling, the weight of the bronze metal around his neck was strange but he couldn’t stop touching it. He lifted his hand with a laugh to block out some of the camera flashes and caught a jolt of movement to his right. His mirth was sucked into a black hole as his eyes landed on Tamaki atop the 1st place podium. The dark haired boy’s expression was fear like Mirio had never known.
The breath was sucked out of Tamaki’s lungs in a fraction of a second, leaving him feeling like he was floating, suffocating in a vacuum. People rushed towards him like a tidal wave, colors blurring together into one swarming mass—aimed directly at him. His two closest friends stood on both sides but Tamaki felt like they were miles away. The mass of people was going to fall over him and swallow him whole.
Mirio quickly formed a plan and leapt up onto the 1st place podium with Tamaki. He put himself in front of the dark haired boy and took both Tamaki’s upper arms in his hands. He met the sixteen-year-old’s eyes and held them confidently, knowing he could not stop the panic which was rising but he could hopefully make it better.
“Grab my shirt and don’t let go, Tamaki!” Mirio said loudly, holding out the hem of his shirt. “I’m going to get you through the crowd quick, ok? Close your eyes and trust me!”
Tamaki gaped at Mirio, feeling his vision start to white, his ears start to ring. The attack was just getting started, slowly amping up to possess him entirely. He had enough sense to nod, eyes teary, and grip the hem of Mirio’s shirt like a lifeline. He held on so tight his hands started to hurt.
Mirio wrapped his arm around Tamaki’s waist and leapt down off the podiums. He needed to take advantage of catching the attack before it got too bad, he knew he still had a few precious seconds where he could touch the other boy before it triggered him. As they landed on the ground Mirio released Tamaki and threw his hands in the air.
“EVERYBODY OUT OF THE WAY!” Mirio waved his arms, knowing Tamaki was nearly invisible behind him. The crowd responded quickly and began moving to provide the boys a path. Behind them Mirio heard Nejire whistle.
“Hey! Who wants an autograph!”
‘Thanks, Nejire! Quick thinking!’ Mirio thought with a grin.
Tamaki felt heat rushing at him from all sides, he closed his eyes and immediately started running, using he shirt in his hands as a guide. His stomach flopped and twisted like he was on a roller coaster. He could hear and feel people all around him, surrounding him on all sides. Running without breathing was hard but he managed, lungs burning from infrequent gasps of breath. Tears leaked out of the corner of Tamaki’s eyes. This was so stupid how could he act like this he’d just won the sports festival and this was how he celebrated all those people just wanted to… all those people…
Mirio frowned as he reached an end of the helpful people. He took a breath and squared his shoulders and without hesitation began barreling through the crowd. He pushed people to the side, apologizing as he went. His rude and hurried exit spurred some people to move of their own accord, but he still had to physically move others and at the pace he was keeping he could not afford to be gentle about it.
Tamaki felt his skin prickle, like it was paper thin and any touch would rip it off of him. Even the wind blowing over him hurt, abrasive and cold and too much—it was all just too much. He could barely keep his feet under him as he continued on dutifully. He reluctantly released Mirio’s shirt with one hand and clapped it over his mouth. He felt like the small breakfast he’d had was about to re-appear… and not because of his Quirk.
Mirio skidded into a turn and spun on his heels to pull Tamaki with him with as little whiplash as possible. He darted down the hallway before him and then quickly into one of the prep rooms. He could feel Tamaki’s hand pulling at his shirt desperately and he breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the room was empty.
“Ok Tamaki, you’re safe,” Mirio grinned, starting to walk towards an open wall. He knew Tamaki would bury himself into it until he could think straight, until the worst was over. The blond lifted his arm to indicate the open space when he felt Tamaki’s hand on his side. Mirio was frozen in place as the dark haired boy weaved under Mirio’s arm and pressed his face into the blond’s chest.
Tamaki smushed his face into Mirio’s uniform, taking handfuls of the other boy’s shirt on either side. He let his head move with the blond’s breathing, tried to focus on the sound of Mirio’s beating heart. The attack was seeping slowly up his spine, making his knees ache and his blood turn to ice. He kept his eyes firmly closed and forced himself to take a slow, deep breath of Mirio’s smell.
Mirio was a statue, frozen in place and staring at the wall. Tamaki’s face was so tightly pressed against him that he feared the other boy was attempting to use Mirio’s Quirk. He thought about telling Tamaki there was a wall nearby when he recognized Tamaki’s ‘getting under control’ breathing. Tears began welling up in Mirio’s eyes as he realized… he was Tamaki’s wall.
The shorter, slightly younger boy held on for dear life. He wasn’t aware of how much he was pressing against Mirio or how tightly he was holding the blond’s shirt. He was only aware that he was surrounded by warmth and comfort and nothing could get him here. He could wade carefully through his mind, undisturbed, and Mirio would be there when he reached dry land.
Mirio slowly lowered his arm to his side, his movements stiff and calculated. He wanted to wrap his arms around Tamaki and squeeze. He wanted to hoist the other boy into his arms and threaten to never let him go. He wanted to kiss him—well, he’d wanted to kiss him for a long time, the urge was just pressing at the moment—and pet his hair and tell him he was wonderful. He was overwhelmed with the trust he felt pouring from the other boy.
Tamaki slowly opened his eyes, breathing slightly gasping breaths against Mirio’s chest. He could just barely make out the fabric of Mirio’s uniform but he didn’t intend to pull away. He let his ears adjust to the absolute quiet of the room, so different from the buzzing they had just run through. The ringing had faded before it had gotten bad enough to block everything out and Tamaki almost felt in control.
Mirio could feel Tamaki calming against him and he smiled wide. It had been a gamble but it seemed as if Mirio’s quick action had stopped the attack from reaching devastating levels. Tamaki hadn’t completely lost control and he seemed to be recovering much faster than normal. Mirio knew that didn’t mean Tamaki was cured—just that they’d gotten lucky this time—but it still made him feel soft and proud and giddy all over.
“Tamaki,” Mirio said quietly, tilting his head a little to look down at the boy on his chest, “c-can I touch you?” He tried very hard to keep his voice passive, interested in contact but not in making Tamaki feel pressured to accept such a thing. It was a very fine line to walk but Mirio had gotten a lot of practice recently. He found Tamaki enjoyed the feeling of Mirio’s hand on the small of his back and had taken every opportunity since discovering to touch him.
Tamaki took a steadying breath but felt a wave of dizziness hit him. He did feel as though they’d beaten back what could have been an incredibly powerful attack, but perhaps he wasn’t quite ready to speak up yet. The thought of Mirio touching him—anywhere really—made him tense but as he continued to think over the idea he found he wanted the contact. It was a new development, to say the least, but not one he was opposed to. He nodded firmly against Mirio’s chest.
Mirio managed to hold in a triumphant ‘whoop’! Instead he very slowly—giving Tamaki all the time he could to say no or change his mind—lifted his right hand and placed it tenderly against the small of Tamaki’s back. He started softly and then gently applied pressure until he was satisfied. Tamaki shifted slightly but made no move to get away or stop Mirio.
Tamaki buried a smile into Mirio’s shirt. He tilted his head slightly and felt the bronze medal against his cheek. He slowly slid his hands up Mirio’s chest—cheeks starting to blush deep maroon—and wrapped his arms around the blond in a hug. He felt a huff of breath escape his friend and could imagine a sufficiently stunned look on his face.
“C-congratulations on third place, M-Mirio,” Tamaki’s voice was muffled and quiet, and a little raw sounding.
Mirio let out a laugh and slowly wrapped his other arm around Tamaki in a hug. He squeezed as tightly as he thought he could without breaking the darker haired boy. Without thinking he dipped his head down and kissed the top of Tamaki’s head. Instantly his face was as red as a tomato.
“A-and you too, f-for first place!” Mirio countered, hoping the kiss didn’t read as anything other than excited. Romantic feelings would be a little too much to throw on Tamaki after all that. Mirio intended to! Someday… just not right then.
~*~
Mirio was surrounded by people. It was becoming more and more common for the blond to be recognized whenever he went out. Tamaki knew it was what Mirio wanted, not in a vain way, but because it meant he was on his way to becoming a great hero. Truthfully Tamaki didn’t mind—not much, not really—especially when they weren’t in a hurry. He had become comfortable slowly stepping away while the crowd moved in. He knew they’d talk Mirio’s ear off for a while and then things would carry on.
It had been awkward at first but now Tamaki could enjoy just watching Mirio. He beamed and sometimes blushed and just smiled so much Tamaki couldn’t help but grin himself. The attention was so genuine for Mirio that it never seemed to give him a big head. He never seemed egotistical or self-absorbed, but that he just genuinely enjoyed people. It was something Tamaki would never understand. Tamaki wanted to help people—of course!—but he didn’t enjoy socializing with them as often as Mirio.
Tamaki covered his mouth with a small laugh, unable to help it. One of the very young fans who had been talking with Mirio suddenly declared that he would be a hero just like Lemillion when he grew up—and then promptly removed all of his clothing. Tamaki laughed along with the crowd as his mortified mother chased him down the path.
“Uhm, excuse me…”
Tamaki’s eyes almost popped out of his head. He turned quickly to find a young, dark haired girl staring up at him. He glanced quickly around to see where her parents were, then cautiously met her eyes. He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
“Y-yes?”
“You’re Suneater, aren’t you?” The curious child questioned, looking Tamaki up and down in his street clothes.
“Wha—I…”
“It’s hard to tell ‘cause you’re not in your costume but that’s Lemillion, so you have to be Suneater.”
Tamaki’s smile turned into a thin line as he chewed on his bottom lip. He tried to swallow the dread he felt creeping in for no real reason. This girl could not have been more than seven; he had no reason to be so nervous. She didn’t have ulterior motives or a group of people. She wasn’t hounding him with questions or demanding he show off his quirk. Tamaki tried to quiet his mind, his paranoia waking up in the back of it like a lion sensing someone in its territory.
“My mom says you two are always together because you’re in love,” the little girl continued, grinning happily. “My dad doesn’t think so but I think my mom is right! You were just smiling at him, weren’t you?”
Tamaki’s eyes darted quickly to Mirio. The blond was still occupied with a smaller crowd, unaware that a little girl was giving Tamaki the seventh degree. The dark haired young man looked back down at her.
“I-uh… Uhm we…” Tamaki struggled. He wasn’t sure what a normal person was supposed to say to something like that, so how was he ever going to respond in an appropriate manner? He felt a tingle run up his spine, sweat starting to bead on his forehead.
“Are you in love with Lemillion?” The girl pressed, folding her hands behind her back and taking a step closer. She was unaware of the effect her questions were having on the hero, and in truth simply wanted to know the nature of the relationship.
“M-mir-… I…”
“Are you ok?” The girl paused, her line of questioning derailed as she watched Tamaki take a step backwards. She recognized slowly the stress on the hero’s face and knitted her eyebrows together. She began looking around nervously—after all if the hero Suneater was afraid, shouldn’t she be?
In the back of her mind she knew where her mother was but in the moment all she could see was that her mother was not behind her. She was alone. She was alone and Suneater was afraid. What was going to happen?
Tamaki felt panic start deep in his chest as he watched and listened to the little girl’s breathing become erratic and hiccupped. As she turned back around Tamaki saw tears in her eyes. His blood turned to ice. What had he done to upset her? He lifted his hands and let them hang uselessly in her direction, unsure how exactly they were supposed to help.
Mirio felt a strange twinge in his neck, like he’d pulled a muscle somehow. To fix the issue he turned his head to the side and his eyes landed on Tamaki. His attention was instantly caught by the movement of his companion—something was wrong.
“Excuse me, everyone,” Mirio said politely, giving a soft bow to the crowd. “It was wonderful to meet you all and I’ll continue to do my best!” He struck a quick pose—one he hoped was convincing—and then moved to Tamaki’s side a few feet away. He stepped up behind his partner and lovingly slipped his hand to the small of Tamaki’s back. He felt the dark haired hero startle just for a second and then press back against him.
“Hey Amajiki who’s your…” Mirio’s voice trailed off as he met eyes with the little girl. He left his hand on Tamaki’s back—a little awkwardly—and knelt down. He reached out and put his free hand on the girl’s shoulder.
“Hey, hey there. Are you ok? Are you lost?” Mirio searched the girl’s face as she rubbed at her eyes.
“N-no,” she hiccupped, studying Mirio’s features, “I just-I just got worried.”
“Ahh, well, there’s no need to worry!” Mirio made a confident fist in front of her and grinned heroically. “This park is protected by the hero Fatgum! He wouldn’t let anything happen to you!”
“Ye-yeah,” the girl agreed, nodding.
“Neither will we,” Mirio said in a whisper, adding a wink for good measure. He stiffened a little in surprise as the young girl suddenly looped an arm around his neck in a hug. He returned it with one arm.
Tamaki frowned, fear ebbing slowly as he watched Mirio clean up his mess. The little girl cast a glance at Tamaki from over Mirio’s shoulder. The dark haired teen watched as she whispered something to the blond that made him laugh nervously. Mirio whispered something back that made her giggle.
Mirio stood back up, a little red around the cheeks. He glanced at Tamaki and offered a knowing look. He rubbed his thumb tenderly against the other teen’s back.
“You ok?”
Tamaki nodded, rubbing his left forearm a little too vigorously. He watched Mirio’s eyes trail to his action and a frown settle over kind features. Tamaki stopped and moved to press his face into Mirio’s chest. The blond held open his arms and very gently laid them over Tamaki’s back. The dark haired boy was not pulled in or offered a stiff shoulder to cry on—Mirio was there for any level of comfort Tamaki might need. They had become adept at reading each other and Tamaki knew a simple move in one of two directions would instruct more or less contact.
Mirio tightened his hug the slightest bit as Tamaki took handfuls of his shirt and breathed in deeply. The blond tipped his head down and planted a kiss on Tamaki’s head, breathing in the scent of the shorter teen’s shampoo. He felt a shudder against his chest and repeated the kiss.
“I… don’t know why I try,” Tamaki said quietly, “I’m not even sure what I did that upset her.”
“Tamaki,” Mirio sighed, holding his companion tightly to his chest and feeling Tamaki’s grip on his shirt intensify. “You’re gonna make a great hero—you’re already a great hero. You don’t have to be a public speaker or make everybody happy to do that. You’re a kind person, you want to help and you make a huge difference in this world. You’re really just absolutely the best person. You inspire me to become better every day, Tamaki!”
“You’re… you’re too much, Mirio,” Tamaki mumbled. “I couldn’t even talk to a little girl.”
“Well, yeah, kids can be scary,” Mirio let out a low whistle, “you have to really watch what you say because they’re like little sponges. You say the wrong thing and who knows what you could do to them! They take everything you say to heart and so you really need to make sure you only say the right things. It’s complicated, talking to children, it doesn’t mean you’re not a good hero!”
“Do you… do you think about all that when you talk to children?”
“Yeah, all the time! I worry constantly I’m gonna say something wrong,” Mirio rubbed the back of his neck as Tamaki shifted, rolling slender shoulders in a way that said he was done with the tight embrace. He left his hand at the small of Tamaki’s back, however, thumb still roving circles there.
Tamaki pushed away from Mirio’s chest gently, staring up at the blond with hands splayed over toned pecs. He watched Mirio smile and then lean down, expression soft. Tamaki’s expression grimaced for a second before he pushed up on his toes and connected them in a quick kiss. Public displays of affection were still a little overwhelming—even though they’d been dating for almost three years.
“Wow,” Mirio whispered as they pulled away, sounding breathless. Tamaki smirked just the smallest bit, playfully whacking Mirio’s chest.
“Y-you’re too much.”
“Hey, I love you Tamaki, you know that right?” Mirio’s tone became serious. “None of the stuff you go through changes that. I’ve never once looked at you any differently because of that. In fact I think it makes you strong—one of the strongest people I know. I’m not sure if I could keep going if I had to fight myself and villains at the same time. You’re… amazing, Tamaki.”
Tamaki’s cheeks blushed and he looked away, pulling his hands off Mirio’s chest. He made sure to keep his back pressed against the hand there or he knew Mirio would take it as sign and remove it.
“You’re embarrassing,” Tamaki whispered. “I love you too.”