Chapter Text
“Does your shirt actually say ‘pants’?” asks Kacchan in disbelief.
Izuku looks down at his chest. “Oh, yeah, I got it on sale. Cool, right?”
Kacchan pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re not wearing that stupid thing in my house. Go home and change.”
“I just got here and you’re sending me back?”
“You live down the street.”
“That’s so far away,” Izuku complains. “Just let me in.”
“You can come, the shirt can’t.”
“Right, I’ll just take it off, then.” Izuku rolls his eyes and sidles past Kacchan to get into the house. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here. Do you still have that big hole in the living from when you blasted yourself through the wall?”
“We patched that up,” Kacchan says, face oddly blank. “Go upstairs, Half-and-half is already here.”
Izuku takes the stairs up two at a time, bare feet thumping on the wood. Kacchan’s house is largely the same as he remembers it, still tidy but marked with little reminders of their growing up. Scratches on furniture and burns that never quite scrubbed out, and cabinets that had to be rearranged every year to cover up Kacchan’s noisy accidents. The hallway’s bright yellow now, instead of cream, but underneath the new paint job there’s a badly-drawn All Might in permanent marker because six-year-old Kacchan had decided that the house needed better décor.
Izuku hesitantly turns the knob to Kacchan’s room. “Hey, Todoroki. Wow, it’s cold in here.”
“Anti-summer measures,” Kacchan says, kicking the door shut behind him as Izuku makes himself comfortable on the floor. Todoroki’s in a soft grey button-down and jeans, leaning against the foot of Kacchan’s bed with lordly composure.
“How are you okay wearing a tank top?” Izuku says, baffled.
“I’m tough. You want food or something?”
“I’d like a drink,” says Todoroki.
“I was asking Deku. You can go get your own,” Kacchan replies.
Todoroki scoffs. “You know, the first time I came here I was expecting to find Bakugou living in a dumpster. I thought that might explain his personality.”
“Go home, then,” Kacchan says, flipping him off.
“Make me.”
“Do you hang out here often?” Izuku says before Kacchan can start dragging Todoroki across the floor. “It’s pretty far for you to travel, right?”
“Yes. It’s a nice house, though. Cosy.”
“Kacchan’s parents have good taste,” Izuku says, choosing not to mention that Kacchan’s ‘cosy’ house is about five times the size of Izuku’s apartment. “Well, they would, obviously, being designers.”
“I’ve met them,” Todoroki says. “They’re wasted on him.”
“Do me a favour and keep your daddy issues at home,” says Bakugou, starting up the TV. It’s an old flat screen, and he hooks it up to his laptop and hands Izuku a controller. “Play the tutorial or whatever. I’ll be right back.”
They watch the intro and Izuku fumbles through the murder of a few hapless demons until Kacchan returns with snacks and some mugs. “Tea or coffee?”
“Tea,” says Todoroki.
“Wrong, it’s coffee,” Kacchan says. Izuku snorts and immediately gets himself killed.
“Aw, I thought I was starting to get the hang of it,” he says sadly to the loading screen. “Doom’s very you, though, Kacchan.”
“You mean it’s violent and tacky,” says Todoroki.
“Nobody’s asking you to stay. Here, Deku, milk and three sugars for your diabetic ass.”
“Thanks,” Izuku says, taking a sip. “It’s iced? Kacchan, your room’s already freezing.”
“Wear one of my hoodies,” Kacchan says immediately, reaching for a conveniently folded square of cloth at the end of his bed. It’s black and looks way too big for Izuku.
“Don’t,” says Todoroki urgently. “Wear mine.”
“You’re not wearing a hoodie,” Izuku points out.
“I—I’m not,” Todoroki says, obviously crestfallen. “Because my quirk— my quirk! My left side is warm. Sit next to me.”
“You hate using your left side,” Kacchan says.
“Yes. Now it’s finally good for something,” says Todoroki.
“Don’t sit with him, Deku, there’s no sense warming yourself on just one side. Take the hoodie.”
“I’ll put my arm around you, it’ll be fine.”
“Can’t you just turn the AC down?” Izuku says.
“No,” say Kacchan and Todoroki at the same time.
Izuku rolls his eyes. “Alright, I’ll do it.”
There’s a mad dash for the remote before Izuku can even put his coffee down. The air conditioning gets colder, then warmer, then colder again, and Kacchan and Todoroki wrestle on the floor and bump into furniture until Kacchan’s mother comes in and yells at them to stop wasting electricity.
It’s a lot more comfortable after that. Izuku sips his coffee while Todoroki lies face-down on the floor and Kacchan tries to pull him out the door by his ankle. “This game’s soundtrack is pretty good.”
“I thought you liked pop,” Kacchan grunts. Todoroki kicks lazily at his shins. He reminds Izuku of a housecat who won’t get off its owner’s laptop, and Izuku turns away so they don’t see him smile.
“This is good too. Is it only single player, though? I don’t want to hog the controller.”
“It’s fine, we’ll watch,” says Todoroki, making a soft skidding noise as he slides across the floor.
“No, I couldn’t,” Izuku says, exiting the game. “Do you have more controllers? Let’s play something else with co-op.”
“There’s that dumb cooking game Half-and-half likes,” Kacchan says, dropping Todoroki’s leg. “The one where you fight a giant meatball?”
“You don’t fight him, you feed him,” Todoroki says, sitting upright. “The maps change so you have to work together.”
“Together, huh,” Izuku says, eyeing the Wii in the corner. “Hey, Kacchan, do you still have Mario Kart? You used to be so good at that.”
“I’m good at Mario Kart too,” says Todoroki quickly. “I could beat him.”
“Like hell,” says Bakugou. “You’re on, candy ass.”
Izuku grins. “I’m in the mood for some friendly competition. Best two out of three?”
It’s not friendly. It doesn’t end at three games, either.
Izuku’s coffee cup sits forgotten on the floor, melted ice leaving rings of condensation that drip down the sides and onto the floor. They’ve eaten six packets of chips between them. Kacchan won’t stop screaming at the screen, and Todoroki’s threatened to ice his bedroom more than once.
“Get out of my fucking face, Yoshi,” Kacchan barks, jerking around wildly as he steers. Todoroki grumbles something under his breath and leans forward, bangs falling into his eyes as his little Yoshi sprite takes a corner.
“I’m going to kill Bowser,” he says flatly. “I’m going to kill Bowser, and then I’m going to kill you for picking him.”
Izuku whines, firmly in fifth place and driving a cute pink car because for some reason they’d bullied him into using Princess Peach. “No, I missed a power up! Peach! Peach, why can’t you drift?”
“She can drift, you just suck ass— did you just fucking banana peel me you dickbag asshole?”
Yoshi takes first place. Todoroki pumps both fists in the air while Kacchan hollers at the scoreboard. “Cheap trick! I would have won if you hadn’t killed me off at the last second!”
“All’s fair in love and war,” Todoroki retorts, tossing his head. “Four-three. I am the superior racer.”
“Fuck you and fuck your Smedley references,” Kacchan hoots angrily. “Again! We’re not stopping until I’ve obliterated you!”
“I haven’t even won once,” Izuku sighs. He’s not terribly bothered, though. Kacchan and Todoroki are vibrating with energy, focused on each other and the game and rage-eating their way through all of Kacchan’s pantry. Todoroki’s animated in a way Izuku never usually seen him, and Kacchan’s mother’s already come in twice to tell him to stop screeching but he clearly hasn’t listened. Izuku couldn’t get them more hyped up on adrenaline if he threw them into a sudden death match against All Might.
The next map loads and Izuku almost forgets to drive. Kacchan’s knee is pressed against Todoroki’s, although neither of them have noticed. He’s never seen them touch before. Hit each other, yeah, but not like this, casually and without intention to hurt. Not like they’re friends.
“Out of my way! How does my entire ass taste, Deku?”
“Last place just means I can blue shell you, Kacchan.”
“What the fuck, you better not.”
“Do it, Midoriya.”
“I will kick your ass, stay away from that power up—son of a bitch.”
Todoroki snorts as Bowser goes careening off a cliff. Yoshi, once again, takes first place. “How does my ass taste?”
Kacchan tackles him. Todoroki goes rolling onto his back and both controllers clatter on the floor, and Izuku scrambles to rescue them before they can get destroyed. Kacchan’s got Todoroki in a headlock. Todoroki manages to pull Kacchan’s shirt over his head, blinding him for long enough to shove him over and jam an elbow in his sternum.
“This isn’t how I wanted you to work off your aggression,” Izuku sighs, and then yelps when they knock over his coffee cup. “My All Might socks!”
“Fuck your All Might socks,” Kacchan wheezes. “Wash them later.”
“Coffee stains! My mom got these for me!”
They ignore him. Izuku, feet wet and All Might dyed brunet, feels the first spikes of irritation he’s had in a long time.
“Enough,” he says, yanking Todoroki bodily off of Kacchan and tossing him onto the bed. Todoroki bounces on the mattress and lands on his back. “Can you two morons stop trying to cripple each other every other day?”
Todoroki blinks, either from the shock of being thrown or from the shock of being called a moron. “Midoriya?”
“Don’t you Midoriya me,” Izuku replies hotly. “You’re acting like children! Every little thing sends you two into these ridiculous pissbaby fights. Normal people don’t behave like this!”
Pissbaby, Todoroki mouths as Kacchan gets to his feet. “Chill, Deku. Is this about the socks?”
“No! Maybe! That’s not the point!” Izuku says. “And don’t you tell me to chill, you big dumb meathead. You’re the least chill person on the planet. I thought maybe you and Todoroki were finally learning to coexist but you can’t go an hour without breaking something.”
“We are getting along,” Todoroki says, wounded. “We weren’t really trying to hurt each other this time.”
“Fuck you, Deku,” Kacchan snaps. “I’ve been hanging out with him voluntarily for your sake, because you’re so insistent that everybody holds hands and get along. I feed him. I have him in my house after school. I binge-watched all his favourite TV shows. We’re acting like best fucking friends over here. What the hell else do we have to do to prove that? Do I have to make out with him in front of you so your stupid green head understands we don’t hate each other?”
“Yes,” says Izuku.
Kacchan’s mouth clicks shut. “I don’t think he really meant that,” Todoroki says after a second.
“Of course not,” Izuku rolls his eyes. “A girl kissed him on the cheek once and he cried because he thought she’d given him cooties.”
“I was seven,” Kacchan says, throwing his hands up.
“And you haven’t changed! All you know how to do is study and punch things. You’re afraid to let Todoroki know he’s important to you. Even the thought of physical affection scares you!”
Todoroki clears his throat. “I don’t think kissing me really has anything to do with—”
“I am not scared,” Kacchan says quietly.
Izuku looks him in the eye. “Chicken.”
“Fuck you!” Kacchan roars, stomping over to his double bed and grabbing Todoroki by the collar. “I’ll show you who’s fucking scared of physical affection! Come here, you!”
“Wait,” says Todoroki. “This isn’t—”
“Pucker up, Shortcake,” Kacchan growls and kisses Todoroki full on the mouth.
Mario Kart music continues to play from the TV. Sunlight streams through the window, and Izuku’s spilled iced coffee sits in a murky puddle that will no doubt stain the floorboards forever. Torodoki’s hands, which had been pressed to Kacchan’s chest to push him away, slowly relax and migrate up to rest on Kacchan’s jaw. Izuku counts ten seconds before they break apart and come up for air.
“Oh,” Kacchan says.
“Oh,” Todoroki says, and kisses him again.
Forgotten in the background, wet socks and all, Izuku cheers.
“So you did it,” says Uraraka, patting Izuku on the back and making him glance shyly away. “You’ve stopped the fighting for good. I believed in you from the very start, I want you to know that.”
“I was wrong,” Iida says. “As much as I don’t like the idea of you meddling like that, I have to say everything worked out exactly how you wanted. Well done, Midoriya.”
Izuku leans back happily in his seat. The morning sun is refreshingly bright, and 1A’s pre-homeroom chatter in the background is soothing. Everyone’s milling about in their cliques. Kirishima’s talking to Tetsu at the door, since Iida had nagged them both about intruding into the wrong classes. Hagakure’s surrounded by her friends. Izuku can’t quite tell, of course, but she seems to be distracted, glancing to the back of the class in Ojiro’s direction. His tail swishes lazily back and forth, speeding up just a bit whenever she looks his way.
Kacchan’s in Todoroki’s lap. He’s using him as a chair, more accurately, because Todoroki had decided that morning to sit in Kacchan’s seat instead of his own. He’s almost completely blocked from view, face pressed between Kacchan’s shoulder blades and arms dangling limply at his sides while Kacchan plays candy crush on Todoroki’s phone.
“I can’t breathe,” says Todoroki.
“Die, then,” says Kacchan.
“So romantic,” Izuku sighs.
“I suppose it’s an improvement,” Iida says. “Although I don’t know if we’ll see Kaminari again. He came in, took one look at them and then walked back out.”
“He’s probably just having some trouble processing it,” Uraraka says, patting Iida on the arm. “I think everyone’s a little weirded out. They were assaulting each other just a month ago.”
“And now they’re in love!” Izuku says, clapping his hands together gleefully. “Or like. Or lust. Maybe lust, actually. They kissed for a really long time. I think they forgot I was there. I mean I left after a couple of minutes, but I could have sworn I saw Kacchan’s shirt get tossed out the window when I was going home.”
“Go on,” says Uraraka.
“Do not,” says Iida.
“And now everything is perfect,” says Izuku. “I love love.”
“You’re doing the lord’s work, Deku-kun,” Uraraka says seriously. “Maybe you can start a matchmaking service if you ever get tired of being a hero.”
“First of all, Midoriya is never going to get tired of being a hero,” says Iida. “Secondly, how do you really think that’s going to work out? Nobody’s going to care about the matchmaking. They’ll just use it as an excuse to spend an hour alone with him.”
“If he gets paid for it, at least everyone’s happy,” says Uraraka.
“Thanks, Iida, but I really don’t think anyone’s going to want to pay to hang out with me. I’m not sure that many people would even do it for free,” Izuku says, not understanding why Iida sighs so loudly. “I guess helping people find love is kind of like hero work, though. Do we know any love-based heroes?”
Uraraka tilts her head. “Miss Midnight’s the closest one I can think of, but I’m not sure her whole theme counts as love, exactly.”
“Probably not,” Izuku hums in response. Iida nods, and Izuku’s gaze drifts down to Uraraka’s hand still resting comfortably on his arm. She’s got such cute fingers, like a cat’s. And Iida’s hands are so big. Strong and safe, completely relaxed. Idly, Izuku wonders when the two of them got close enough to share casual touch. “Hey. Thanks. For humouring me, I guess. I know this whole thing was kind of silly to begin with.”
Uraraka furrows her brows. “It wasn’t silly, Deku-kun. You got three whole couples together in a month. You did well.”
“I guess so,” Izuku says, scratching the back of his neck. “Although I think I might have given Iida a stress ulcer.”
“Most of the people in this class are contributing to my stress ulcer,” Iida says, pushing up his glasses. “Is something bothering you, Midoriya?”
“No! I’m fine, really.”
“I thought you’d be happier about this,” Uraraka says. “You were all smiles just a minute ago.”
“I’m okay,” Izuku says, glancing at her hand on Iida’s arm again. He is happy. Mostly. “I just, I dunno. Don’t mind me. You guys are great. I, uhm. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but you two are the first real friends I’ve made in, like, ever. I never used to have any back in middle school. And you’ve always been super nice to me even though you didn’t have to be. I know I’m nothing special. But I’m really lucky to have you two.”
Uraraka’s expression crumples. She lets go of Iida and reaches out like she’s not sure if she wants to take Izuku’s hand or leave him be. “Oh, Deku-kun. You’re way too hard on yourself.”
Iida sighs. “I’m going to tell him.”
“Don’t,” says Uraraka.
“No, this has been going on long enough,” Iida says. “Midoriya. Do you want to know the real reason Bakugou and Todoroki have been fighting every day for so long? It’s because of you. They’ve been fighting over you.”
Izuku frowns. “I made them fight?”
“He’s trying to say they both like you,” Uraraka says kindly. “Or used to, anyway, until you got them to like each other. Bakugou started being nicer to you because he had a crush on you. Todoroki was trying to keep him away from you because he wanted to be your boyfriend instead.”
Izuku parses this. His face goes very warm very quickly. “No way.”
“Yes way,” says Iida. “I know you have terrible self-esteem, but think about it. They try so hard to impress you. They follow you around and keep trying to do things for you. They’re like puppies falling all over each other to get your attention.”
“I don’t believe you,” Izuku says. Whines, really, putting his face in his hands. “Oh my god, why? That can’t be true.”
“Deku-kun,” Uraraka says, tugging one hand away so she can look at him. “There’s a lot about you to like.”
“Like what? I’m plain and short and I took forever to learn how to use my quirk and I talk to myself and I’m kind of a nerd and-”
“Midoriya,” says Iida. “All Might chose you for a reason. People are drawn to you for a reason.”
“But- but why did you encourage me? If you thought they liked me, why’d you let me set them up?”
“Because Bakugou doesn’t deserve you,” Uraraka says hotly. “Not after being so mean to you. Not after he helped make you think nobody would like you. And Todoroki, well. He’s nice, but if anyone’s going to date Bakugou, it might as well be him.”
“You sure that’s the only reason?” asks Iida.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asks Uraraka.
“Just a hunch,” says Iida mildly. “You’ve been holding Midoriya’s hand for a while now.”
Uraraka goes beet red and lets go. “You-! Shut up, Iida! Don’t act like you don’t crumple the second he gives you the doe eyes.”
Iida’s ears go pink, which is fascinating considering his expression doesn’t actually change. “I don’t.”
“You do! You said you wouldn’t speak to him again after he got himself put in detention and then what did you do?”
“He said he was sorry!”
“He said he missed you and you almost cried!”
“Guys,” Izuku squeaks. “What’s happening here?”
“Iida likes you,” says Uraraka.
“Uraraka likes you,” says Iida.
“Oh my god,” says Izuku.
Iida pinches the bridge of his nose. Izuku’s heart is thumping hard, threatening to beat right out of his ribcage and go running for cover. “Alright. Fine,” Iida says. “I will admit that I find Midoriya, uhm. Attractive. But that doesn’t mean anything, necessarily!”
“Dang it. Me too. You don’t have to say it back, though, Deku-kun,” Uraraka says, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear. Her blush spreads across her nose and cheeks like a sunburn. She’s so pretty. “If you’re not interested, that’s totally okay. We don’t have to talk about it again. Anyway, I wouldn’t want to make it awkward. It’s not like you have to choose between us, you know?”
“Of course not,” says Iida. His hand-choppy thing is oddly subdued. “I mean, Uraraka’s very attractive too, and maybe you don’t like boys, which is perfectly alright, of course-”
“You think I’m pretty?” asks Uraraka.
“You’re beautiful,” Izuku blurts out without thinking. “You both are.”
Iida runs his hand through his hair. He’s just trying to get it out of his hair, Izuku knows, but he can’t help but watch. Uraraka fiddles with the end of her tie. “Do you want,” she starts and then stops. “Do you guys want to go out for ice cream after school? On a date?”
“All three of us?” Izuku says hesitantly.
Iida splutters. “Excuse me. We’re underage, and we have school and hero work to worry about, you know, the idea of romance at all is highly inappropriate, I don’t think, I mean, such an idea is, it’s just—”
“There, there,” Uraraka says, smiling crookedly. “I promise me and Deku-kun will ask permission before holding your hand.”
“You do have two hands,” Izuku says, heart fluttering. His cheeks hurt from smiling right now. He probably looks ridiculous. “Uhm. Are you guys sure about this? You’d make a great couple even without me, and I seriously wouldn’t mind at all if-”
“Deku-kun,” says Uraraka. “Izuku. It’s okay. We can, uhm. We’ll take it slow. Right, Iida?”
“I suppose,” says Iida, trying to disappear into his collar. “I- yes. This is fine.”
“Okay,” Izuku says, hiding a smile in his hands. His heart feels warm and light. “Okay.”
“Say, Jirou. You and Yaomomo—”
“Are already dating.”
“Alright then,” Izuku says, flashing her a thumbs up. She grins and saunters off to join the crowd of students stampeding off to lunch, one hand holding a soda bottle and the other sneaking comfortably into Yaoyorozu’s blazer pocket. Uraraka wanders over to Izuku’s desk. “You wanna have lunch?”
“I have plans today,” Izuku says, feeling giddy and shy. “But I’ll see you right after.”
“Okay.” She goes to find Iida, and Iida, red-faced, offers her his arm so they can go to the cafeteria together.
Izuku watches them go. Kacchan and Todoroki wait for him by the door, but Izuku tells them to go on without him. He’s already got lunch plans.
He finds Hitoshi in the courtyard by the fountain, very intently studying a pigeon wing on the ground. There’s no bird attached. Just the wing, for some reason, with none of the feathers out of place.
“I can’t help but imagine,” he says when Izuku comes up behind him, “that the pigeon must have dropped its wing like a lizard drops its tail when you startle it.”
“I doubt that,” Izuku says. “Although it’s a lot better than imagining what must have happened to that poor bird.”
“Eaten, probably. Why leave the wing though?”
“Some people don’t like wings,” Izuku says good naturedly. “They’re not easy to eat. Fun when you fry them, though. Or barbecue them.”
“Did you know that this is where I first met Paul?”
“Is that what you’re calling him?” Izuku asks, plopping bonelessly onto the stone edge of the fountain. The sound of running water almost makes him want to take a dip. Maybe he’ll go to the pool on the weekend. “Oh, the tree’s growing back. There’s a little shoot coming out of the trunk, that’s so cute.”
“That tree is a survivor,” Hitoshi says, sitting down next to him. “If I got blown up and then crushed by a solid block of ice, I wouldn’t be growing any limbs back.”
“Humans don’t usually do that, I think.”
“Not with that attitude. Lunch?”
“Sorry, I’ve actually got something to do today.” Stretching his arms over his head, Izuku tilts his face up to catch some sunlight. “By the way, Project 1 was a great success. Kacchan and Todoroki like each other now. They kissed a few days ago while we were at Kacchan’s place. It was really satisfying. Like when you’re reading a story and wondering if the main characters will ever fall in love even though you know they’d be perfect for each other, you know?”
“I wouldn’t call either of them the main character,” Hitoshi says, inspecting his nails. “Those two owe me some money. I have to ask, though. You’re aware they’re kind of head over heels for you, right?”
Izuku punches his arm. “People keep saying that. I don’t believe it.”
“Really? I would have assumed they would have confessed to you. Maybe right after fighting over something stupid like who gets to wash your socks.”
“That’s silly,” Izuku says. “Anyway, uhm. I’m about to go on a date with someone else.”
“Who?”
“Iida and Uraraka.”
“Fascinating,” Hitoshi says, scratching his chin. “I knew those two would end up together somehow. This is a great development.”
“I agree,” says Izuku, looking up. The bags under Hitoshi’s eyes had always worried Izuku, but now they remind him less of restless nights and more of sleepovers spent binge-watching cartoons with your best friend. “Say. There’s this Korean restaurant that’s just opened up near my place. I hear their kimchi soup is to die for.”
“I like kimchi,” says Hitoshi.
Izuku knows. “Would you like to go with me sometime? My treat. A proper thank-you for all the advice, even though you know I had the wrong idea. Bastard.”
Hitoshi grins. “Will your new lovers mind?”
“Don’t call them that,” Izuku says, gently kicking his ankle. “But, no. They won’t mind.”
“Great. I’ll buy dessert.”
“Sure.” He pats Hitoshi on the back and stands, laughing out loud when a white paw emerges from inside Hitoshi’s blazer. “I’ll see you at half past noon at my house. I’ll text you the address. Paul can come too.”
“So that’s what happened,” Izuku says, stirring more sugar into his tea. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t think it would work out as well as it did, but everything seems to be perfect for now.”
All Might sits on the loveseat across from him, suit hanging off his shoulders and jacket pooling around his waist. It’s a grey and orange pinstripe, which should be weird but somehow works. That may just be Izuku’s hero-worship talking, though. All Might’s one third the size that he normally is and Izuku still thinks he looks great.
“That’s some impressive analytical work on your part, young man,” All Might tells him, making Izuku preen. “I suppose that helping your friends find their happiness is heroic in its own right.”
“That’s what I said!” Izuku says and nearly spills his tea. “And Hagakure and Ojiro are so cute, and Tetsu and Kirishima are really nice and supportive, and Todoroki and Kacch—uhm, Bakugou, they’ve stopped fighting. Kind of. They’re not actually drawing blood anymore, I guess.”
“That was starting to become an issue.” Delicately, All Might bites into a sandwich, chewing slowly so as not to upset his injured stomach. Teachers bustle around in the background, but nobody bothers their little corner of the staff room. “My. It’s only been a month since we had lunch together. When I asked what you’d been up to I didn’t think you’d be this busy.”
“It all sort of just happened,” Izuku says and scratches the back of his neck. All Might smiles and offers him a banana cupcake. “Especially the thing with Iida and Uraraka. I was a little afraid to tell you, but I’m kind of happy. They make me happy.”
“You deserve to be happy,” All Might says, delighting Izuku. “You’re a good boy, Midoriya. You’re not hard to love. You’re going to make a good hero. I’m glad I picked you.”
Izuku kicks his feet and eats his lunch. He’s nervous and excited for how his future will turn out, but for now he’s content on a leather sofa with the person he’d always wanted to be. All Might leans against the arm rest, relaxed and unguarded the way he can’t be when he steps out from behind their four walls.
Izuku doesn’t mind. Without his quirk, without his persona, All Might’s still always going to be a hero. Maybe one day Izuku will be too. That’s a long way away, though. In the meantime, this is good.
“By the way,” Izuku says, sipping his tea. “Have I mentioned my mother is single?”