Chapter Text
The moment Izuku clocked Nemuri crafting up some twisted drinking game on the floor, he put his every effort into being as inconspicuous as possible. That was not very easy when you were the person the party was about.
Luckily, Dabi was more than willing to be his scapegoat, and drink half of his losses. That was good, because Nemuri seemed to be introducing new rules left right and centre and he was not keeping up. They had to sit in a circle and they were taking it in turns to say words but they couldn’t say certain ones and there was a time limit and there were some other things and he didn’t really know what was going on.
He was still confused as to why Chiyo was so happy to go along with the game, since she’d joined them on the floor, but Izuku was mildly concerned that she’d actually end up beating them all. If anyone here was to have enough life experience to know every obscure drinking game applicable, it had to be her. Nedzu didn’t count either, he wasn’t playing.
So far, he’d taken three shots of some blue liquid Nemuri managed to spawn, with Dabi taking the other three, which led to six total shots, so he was quite confident he was losing. Or maybe the objective of the game was to drink? Well, it was a drinking game so everyone was anticipating that, but was it something they were aiming towards?
The shot itself wasn’t horrendous, just incredibly sweet and sour and artificial all at once, probably to mask the flavour of the obscene concentration of alcohol within it. It was definitely something he could imagine Nemuri drinking by the bottle on an off day, which spoke volumes really.
Okay, Shouta just took a shot and Izuku was pretty sure it wasn’t even his turn yet (however turns worked). Was this game safe? The amount of alcohol they were likely to end the night having consumed seemed to be a relatively life threatening amount. It was just a bit of a free for all really wasn’t it?
Sometimes there were pairs of people drinking, sometimes more, but all he knew was that things were getting more confusing by the minute and Chiyo, somehow, hadn’t lost a fucking round. How was the likes of Dabi getting beaten by her? He knew he said she’d be good, but God she was good. The only drink she had taken was one because her ‘throat was getting a bit dry from all this talking’.
Hizashi and Jirou were now both leaning forwards to the centre of the circle, staring at each other with as much intimidation as they could muster, which was an uneven amount between them both to be frank. Nemuri glanced between the two of them for a moment.
“And, go!”
“Lemon!”
“Avocado!”
“Pear!”
“Grapes!”
“Hizashi you drink.”
“What? How?”
See? That made no fucking sense to him.
Izuku leaned around Dabi and Hitoshi to look at Jirou, whispering to her quietly.
“Hey, what the fuck are the rules of this game?”
“I dunno, I think she’s making it up on the spot and letting whoever she likes more win. Or letting the women win where applicable.”
Right, so Izuku just had to not be paired up against a woman next time (he realised out of his six lost rounds, he’d faced only two guys), and also appear extremely likable to Nemuri, which shouldn’t be too difficult. At least it wasn’t his turn to do anything any time soon. At least, he was pretty sure that was the case. Again, nothing seemed to be certain here.
He could see Natsuo edging closer to the group in the corner of his eye, which reminded him that the guy was in fact a college student so he was probably pretty well versed in drinking an over the top amount in the space of half an hour. He seemed both interested and put off by whatever Nemuri had going on in the middle of the circle.
She seemed to notice him too though, and all of a sudden he was flying off of his chair and down between Anan and Jirou. Izuku forgot sometimes that Nemuri was a Pro, and as a result was really quite strong.
Shouto was still making the very good decision to remain at his seat, staring from a distance with a look of what the average person might see as neutrality. Izuku, however, had become somewhat of an expert at reading a person’s eyes since moving in with Shouta, and thus could see the mixture of fear and curiosity directed at the group.
For some reason, upon being dragged down, Natsuo was being made to take three consecutive shots, so that was interesting. He’d ask what rule that one came from but any semblance of a rule list was really just contained within the confines of Nemuri’s drunk little mind.
Yeah, this felt really safe, didn’t it?
Fuyumi wasn’t as confident on her idea of knowing Dabi as she was a few minutes ago, because she wasn’t sure where she would’ve met anyone as happy to triple their blood’s alcohol concentration in under an hour. She never had time for parties, so she was stumped.
There was just something so familiar about those eyes though… She could see them now, better than she could before when he was looking down at that cat, who was now curled up on the sofa by her. They were such a piercing, memorable shade of blue, the kind you don’t see twice very often. Everything was just so conflicting, and she wasn’t even sure why she was clinging to this idea so much.
Perhaps it had something to do with her yearning for a bit of company her age, or just her desperation for anything interesting to happen in her life, but she was just so enraptured by this idea. Sure, chances were Fuyumi didn’t really know this guy and she would go back to living her normal, boring life the moment this party was over, but she was still holding out hope for, well, something.
She couldn’t shake that feeling in her gut though, that Dabi was familiar. His appearance was so distinctive, and yet she couldn’t pull that jet black hair or those silver piercings from anywhere in her mind. It was just his eyes, they were so… blue. There was no other way to describe them other than the obvious, because they were such an overwhelming cerulean.
They almost looked like her dad’s eyes, if anything. They were quite distinctive, the only other person who inherited those eyes, was Touya.
Touya.
Touya.
Those bright eyes, that boisterous personality, that smug smirk on his face, Dabi had so many similarities with Touya. It was almost like… they were… the same person…
Oh.