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Eri was eight years old when she decided she wanted to marry Lemillion someday.
Amajiki could understand it. Mirio was her savior, first off. But then the months after, doing whatever it took to see her smile, the frequent visits, little gifts, taking her on “dates.” Of course it should have been no surprise when Eri innocently proclaimed, “When I grow up, I’m going to marry Lemillion-san!”
Amajiki understood it completely; he had been ten when he felt the same way.
Amajiki’s phone pinged with an alert, just as it had almost every morning since he became a sidekick for Fat Gum a little over six years ago.
Mirio: Good morning!
Attached was picture of Mirio and Eri. Mirio, as usual, was making a goofy face, but today he apparently had convinced Eri to make a goofy face with him, which was relatively rare.
You: Morning
Mirio: No morning selfie? >:( came the immediate reply.
Amajiki hesitated. He absolutely hated taking pictures of himself. He wasn’t shining and handsome like Mirio. Sometimes he gave in and sent a picture, but usually it was something like food, a funny sign, or maybe a cat he came across while on patrol. Once in a great while, when he was either especially homesick or Mirio was extra pleading—or both—he’d manage a slightly fuzzy, typically unflattering picture of himself to send back.
He was still debating when his phone pinged again.
Mirio: Time for school! Work hard!!
Amajiki sighed. He’d waited too long and now it was too late; Mirio would be walking with Eri to school and then busy with work the rest of the day. Slightly dejected, he left his room and walked down the hallway to Fat’s office.
“Amajiki-senpai!” Kirishima’s loud and cheerful voice startled him.
“Kirishima-kun? What are you doing here..?”
“I called him in,” Fat Gum grinned from behind his desk. “I’m gonna be out for a couple days and since you two get along, I figured he’d be the best one to help out. I woulda told you sooner, but things got finalized at the last minute.”
Amajiki groaned inwardly. He didn’t dislike Kirishima, but all of that positive energy kind of wore him out. “I could’ve handled things myself,” he muttered.
Fat Gum laughed. “I know, I know. It’s not that I doubt your capability, Tamaki. But I didn’t want you getting lonely while I was away!”
“You seem extra happy about this,” Amajiki grumbled.
“Are you not ready yet?” The voice preceded the person stepping into the office. Best Jeanist scowled slightly as he realized that Fat Gum wasn’t alone.
“I’ll be right there,” Fat was trying to suppress a grin as he looked at his imaginary watch. “I have five more minutes.”
“If you are five minutes early, you are already ten minutes late,” Jeanist said haughtily before leaving the room.
Amajiki, Kirishima, and Fat just looked at each other for a moment, confused.
“I don’t know what he meant,” Kirishima admitted.
“You’re going somewhere with Best Jeanist?” Amajiki asked. It was an odd combo. For those two to be working together, something big had to be going down. Why hadn’t Fat told him about it? Didn’t he trust him? Was he not good enough? Why was he being left out? Did Kirishima know about—
“Ah, I’m probably not supposed to say anything,” Fat Gum winced slightly. “But if you can keep a secret...we were asked to film a special program.”
Amajiki blinked in confusion. “A what?”
“Well, with all the attention Kirishima-kun here has been getting with that racy picture and all his date night villain busts,” Fat Gum grinned and elbowed Kirishima in the ribs, “the demand is up for hero pairs doin’ domestic, non-hero stuff.”
“But you and Best Jeanist?” Amajiki pressed, not really sure why he cared. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“The title of the program is ‘Food, Fashion, Fun!’” Fat Gum said.
Amajiki sighed. “Okay. I guess now it makes sense. Well,” he muttered, “except for the ‘fun’ part.”
Fat Gum clapped him on the back. “Anyway, I gotta go. Riot’ll be stayin’ in the spare room since I won’t be back until tomorrow night. You kids work hard and be safe.”
“Okay, mom,” Kirishima teased. “We are pros, we’ll be fine. You should probably hurry before you’re two minutes early and twenty-three minutes late.”
“One more minute and I’m leaving without you!” Jeanist yelled from the lobby.
Amajiki was silently cursing Fat Gum. He would have been perfectly content to patrol today by himself, in silence. He didn’t know that he could survive two days of this. Kirishima was even more ebullient and confident than he had been in his high school days. He briefly considered not answering Kirishima’s nonstop questions, but first of all that would have been rude, and second...Amajiki was pretty sure that Kirishima would just continue to chatter away whether he responded or not.
“Fat seemed pretty happy about that program,” Kirishima mused.
“Well, it’s about food. He gets to eat. Of course he’s happy,” Amajiki sighed.
“I’ve never even seen Best Jeanist’s whole face. How is he gonna eat with Fat all day when his mouth is always covered up?”
Amajiki just stared at him a moment, thinking at first it was a stupid question but then realizing he didn’t have an answer. Fortunately, he was saved by his phone vibrating with a message. Another silly picture from Mirio, this time his head on his desk in the teachers’ office at UA, hamming it up and doing his best at looking like he was exhausted and dying.
Mirio: These kids are killing me! Save me, Suneater!
“How is Togata-senpai?” Kirishima asked. “I haven’t seen him in forever. Tell him I said hi!”
Amajiki startled, shoving his phone back in his pocket. But he realized that Kirishima hadn’t been peeking; from where he was standing, there’s no way he could have seen the screen. “What makes you think that was Mirio?” he asked defensively.
“Uh,” Kirishima hesitated, chewing his lip to keep from smiling. “Your expression, I guess? I don’t think I’ve seen you make that face for anyone else.”
Amajiki wanted to die of embarrassment, but answered Kirishima’s question anyway. “Mirio is...good. He teaches the general studies kids at UA.”
“Really? I guess I should’ve known that.”
Amajiki shrugged. “He’s making the best of the situation. That way we live in UA housing since being surrounded by heroes is still the safest thing for Eri. She’s schooled privately while she’s learning how to control her Quirk.” He paused for a moment. “It’s not her fault but I think it’s taken a bit longer than anyone anticipated...Hopefully she’ll be able to actually attend classes with other kids when it’s time for her to start high school. But even after all this time, I think she gets nervous if she’s away from Mirio too much. And since Eri is Mirio’s only real hope for restoring his Quirk...” Amajiki suddenly felt horribly depressed.
“So you’re like a little family then!” Kirishima said, oblivious to Amajiki’s gloomlines.
“What?”
“Well, you said ‘we’ live in UA housing. I thought you must live at Fat’s, in the agency accommodations.”
“N-no,” Amajiki stuttered. “I mean, I live here while I’m working. But I go home—” Amajiki realized he’d never given it much thought. Was it home? He spent more time at the agency than he did in the UA housing. Why did he think of it as home? Mirio. Home was synonymous with Mirio and even if that meant a long train ride once a week or every other, he made it without question. It had never actually occurred to him to move to Esuha or take up permanent residence at the agency. But how long could he really—
“I’m kinda surprised you’re still a sidekick, actually,” Kirishima mused. “I thought you’d go out on your own by now. I mean, I’m sure Fat loves having you around, you’re crazy strong and a funny guy, but—” Amajiki choked. “You okay, senpai?”
“Funny guy?” Amajiki muttered to himself, exasperated. “Mirio and I were always going to have an agency together. There’s no point in me doing it without him.”
“Oh? So you’re just waiting for when Togata-senpai gets his Quirk back?” Kirishima grinned. Amajiki noticed, unlike so many others, Kirishima had said “when” not “if” and he had to like him just a little bit for that. “That’s pretty manly! And kinda romantic!”
“Romantic?” Amajiki squeaked.
“Red Riot!” a passerby exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Can I get your autograph?”
Amajiki waited patiently but nervously while Kirishima signed one autograph, then another, then took one picture, then another... Maybe Kirishima didn’t worry about getting randomly attacked by someone posing as a fan because he could just harden, but being surrounded by people like this made Amajiki a little anxious.
“Ah, sorry about that, senpai,” Kirishima apologized once they were able to start walking again.
“You’re pretty popular, aren’t you?”
Kirishima smiled, happy but a smidge embarrassed. “Uh, well...it kinda started with that, um, picture that kinda exploded everywhere. And then now that we’ve been in the media a lot for bagging villains when we’re on dat—when we’re not even on duty, well...Bakugo didn’t like it, but it was good publicity.”
“Isn’t that the point of a picture like that?” Amajiki said, face flushing just remembering that picture. It was everywhere for a while. “Didn’t you do it for the publicity?”
“Oh no, it was a complete accident,” Kirishima said, wide eyes completely sincere.
“How can something like that be an accident?” Amajiki asked, incredulous.
Kirishima laughed. “It was, I swear!” He proceeded to tell the whole story of the infamous picture and Bakugo getting hit with some weird Quirk that didn’t let him say anything except to confess and by the end of the story, Amajiki felt a headache coming on. “So anyway,” Kirishima said with a dumb smile, “that’s what happened! And we’ve been together ever since! I mean, we were together before but now we’re, like, together-together.”
“Good for you,” Amajiki cringed, pretty sure his headache was getting worse.
“How long have you and Togata-senpai been together?”
Amajiki tripped over his own feet. “What?” he squawked. “We’ve been friends since third grade. But that’s it. We’re friends.”
“But—” Kirishima blurted, then thought for a minute. Finally, frowning, “Are you sure?”
Amajiki snorted. “I’m pretty sure I would know.” They walked in silence for a while and Amajiki took a huge breath of relief. It seemed Kirishima had dropped the issue, for which he was thankful; and he hadn’t said anything for at least five minutes, for which he was extra thankful. Now to hope that maybe—just maybe—Kirishima was all talked-out for the day and they could continue to patrol without his constant chatter—
“Is that what you want?” Kirishima asked out of the blue.
Amajiki drooped. Apparently the silence was temporary. “Is what what I want?” Amajiki asked, exasperated. A quiet patrol is what I want.
“With Togata-senpai,” Kirishima pressed.
“Does it matter?” Amajiki grumbled, immediately regretting it. He knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as it left his tongue. He’d never thought of Kirishima as a particularly observant person, but there was no way he’d let that go.
To his amazement, Kirishima didn’t say anything. Amajiki hesitated to look at him because it might encourage him to speak, but he ended up risking a glance. Kirishima didn’t look back at him, instead his brow furrowed in thought and to Amajiki’s surprise, he looked a little...sad.
He was thankful for the silence but felt an awkward obligation to say something. He was trying to figure out what would be appropriate when someone screamed for help.
Togata looked at the darkened building of Fat Gum’s agency and took a deep breath before pulling out his phone and sending a quick text to Tamaki.
You: I’m here! You gonna let me in?
If he’d been at all worried that there was a possibility Tamaki would sleep through the alert, the concern immediately vanished. He didn’t even have a chance to read the reply Tamaki sent before his phone rang.
“What? What do you mean you’re here? Is that some weird attempt at an All Might joke? Where are you?”
“I’m outside the agency,” Togata couldn’t hold back a smile at Tamaki’s worrywart nature. At least he didn’t sound mad. He had been worried about that, maybe just a little. “You gonna let me in before someone calls me in for looking suspicious?”
A pause. “Are you really outside?”
“Yep!”
An exasperated sigh. “I guess...gimme a sec.” Tamaki hung up without waiting for Togata’s reply.
It didn’t take long before Tamaki opened the door, suspicion and worry plain on his face. “Why are you here? What happened? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Where’s Eri?” Then, concern naked on his face. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine, Eri-chan’s fine, everything’s fine. I just missed you!” It was half blurted and half calculated. Togata watched Tamaki’s expression closely. Tamaki deflated a bit in relief but simultaneously looked a bit irritated. He must think I’m teasing. But is he blushing a bit? Maybe? “Seriously, everything is okay. Eraser and All Might are supervising Eri-chan so she’s totally safe. There’s some special thing going on at the school tomorrow, so I have the day free. I probably should’ve told you I was coming but I wanted to surprise you.”
“I still don’t know why you came all this way,” Tamaki mumbled.
“Because I wanted to see you!” Yep, Tamaki’s definitely blushing. I hope it’s a for-me blush and not just a generic I’m-Tamaki-so-I’m-always-embarrassed-blush. Togata feigned a slight pout. “Is that bad?”
“No, it’s fine, I guess— I just don’t understa—” Tamaki stuttered and the tips of those pointy ears that Togata wanted to kiss so badly flushed pink. “But I told you Kirishima-kun is here for a couple days. There isn’t a spare bed.”
“Oh, shoot, I forgot,” Togata fibbed, hoping he didn’t sound too transparent. “I guess we’ll just have to have a sleepover like when we were kids!” he said, as if he’d just thought of it and hadn’t planned it the whole time.
Tamaki looked outright panicked. Togata flinched inwardly. Maybe I miscalculated. “Just kidding! I can sleep on the fl—”
“It’s okay,” Tamaki said, so quietly that for a moment Togata thought he’d imagined it. “It’s, um...the bed’s pretty small, but...it’s okay.”
Togata’s heart soared with triumph. Perfect. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Tamaki he missed him and wanted to see him. He always missed him when he was away, but he’d also had Eri as a priority. When they’d rescued her, he never imagined that he’d end up essentially her parent. It was an odd position for an eighteen-year-old boy to be in, but he supposed being suddenly Quirkless after being one of UA’s Big Three was an odd position too. He’d lost his Quirk, lost his mentor, lost his future as a hero, and gained a seven-year-old daughter all at once. He didn’t have any regrets; saving Eri was worth it. But his whole life had been turned upside down in the blink of an eye.
He’d always planned on confessing to Tamaki once they graduated. That way, if things were mutual—which, obviously, he hoped they were—they’d be dating for a few years while he sidekicked with Sir and Tamaki would be at Fat Gum’s and once they had experience they could form their own agency like they’d always talked about. That was how he’d hoped it would go, anyway. However, while he wasn’t cowardly, he liked to think he was at least somewhat clever, so if he confessed and Tamaki turned him down, well, he’d still be sidekicking with Sir and Tamaki would be at Fat Gum’s, so they could be friends from a distance while the awkwardness dissipated...and then eventually form their own agency like they’d always talked about.
So, ultimately, Togata had always worked toward the same future. One just had more kissing and Tamaki blushing.
But then everything changed and Togata wasn’t graduating a hero, he wasn’t a hero at all—anymore? at the moment?—and instead he’d become responsible for a whole other little person. Sure, if he’d told the powers-that-be that he wanted nothing to do with it, someone would have stepped forward to take care of Eri. But he felt responsible for her happiness and her well-being. He promised to protect her smile and he had no intention of going back on that promise.
So he had decided to delay his confession a bit. As much as he wanted to finally resolve a crush that he’d had for years, he felt it wouldn’t be fair. Tamaki needed to concentrate on being a hero and he needed to focus on taking care of Eri.
What he hadn’t expected was that Tamaki would live with them like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it was—despite it being UA housing, no one ever said anything about it, at least not to his face. In the beginning, he wondered how long Tamaki would continue to make the commute home on weekends, if it was just a temporary thing until he got established in Esuha.
Seven years later, Togata had come to the conclusion maybe it wasn’t a temporary thing at all.
And if Tamaki had stuck with him this long, that had to mean something, right?
Togata had wanted to wait for the perfect time for his confession. But many of their classmates were getting married—and their underclassmen too—and while he was happy that they were happy and all love-lovey, he wanted it too.
So here he was, sitting on the bed next to Tamaki, and he was going to confess.
Except...here he was, sitting on the bed next to Tamaki, listening about his patrol that day, seeing pictures of funny cats Tamaki took with his phone, Tamaki grumbling about how energetic Kirishima-kun was, fussing about Fat Gum seeming a bit too excited about his program filming. Their shoulders touched, a companionable warmth they were both used to. Togata watched Tamaki’s expression change from irritated to frustrated to shy to exasperated to laughing. It was all so warm and fuzzy and perfect and it would be the easiest thing to just kiss him, he could just lean in, just a little bit—
But it was all too warm and fuzzy and perfect. And he didn’t want to ruin it. He wanted to sit here and listen to him and watch him forever. Maybe...maybe he could say something in the morning. Yeah, that would work—when they woke up and Tamaki was still a bit too drowsy to panic too badly, he could say it then.
For now, he’d just enjoy the cadence of Tamaki’s voice as it got slower the sleepier he got, the cute way his eyelids kept drooping, and the feeling of Tamaki’s head finally resting on his shoulder.
Amajiki woke with a start. He didn’t remember falling asleep in the first place, and for a moment was panicked and cramped and then—Mirio.
Mirio sat up in bed next to him, chest heaving, eyes wide and unfocused, his shirt absolutely soaked with sweat.
“Mirio?” Amajiki ventured quietly. Mirio turned at the sound of his voice, but his eyes remained blank with terror. “Here,” he reached out gingerly for the hem of Mirio’s shirt, “you gotta take this off. You’re sopping wet.”
Mirio blinked at him, recognition finally registering. “Tamaki?” he croaked. “Why are you taking off my— I’m soaked.”
Amajiki let out a little huff. It would have been comical if he wasn’t still pretty concerned about whatever was going on; this wasn’t a normal mental state for Mirio. “You’re pretty soggy,” Amajiki agreed, peeling the shirt off a submissive Mirio.
Once the shirt was off, Mirio just leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Amajiki’s shoulder. “Tamaki,” he breathed. “You’re okay.”
“Of course I’m okay,” Amajiki said, a little confused. His hands hung in the air indecisively. Should he hug him? Pat him? Rub his back a little? What was he supposed to—
Mirio’s arms squeezed around him. “I dreamed— I saw— Instead of Sir, it was you in the hospital, with all the tubes—” Mirio’s voice cracked.
Amajiki curled one arm around Mirio’s back and used the other hand to slowly comb his fingers through Mirio’s sweat-soaked hair, as if comforting a child. “It was a just a nightmare,” Amajiki said, trying to sound reassuring. “I’m here.”
Mirio’s breath was hot on his skin as he burrowed his face into Amajiki’s neck. “You were dying,” he whispered. “And you told me—just like when Sir—” he let out a quavering breath. “You told me...to keep smiling.” A violent sob escaped him. “I can’t! Not without you!”
Amajiki’s heart plummeted and he wished he knew what Mirio needed from him, how to make him feel better. He’d wondered, over the years, how Mirio kept it together. How he could lose his mentor and his Quirk and still smile and joke and shine. He knew that Nighteye’s last request of him was to keep smiling and sometimes Amajiki resented that a bit, thought it put too much pressure on Mirio to act like nothing was wrong. He loved Mirio for his endless positivity, his shining personality. But he would never want Mirio to use that as a mask to hide his real feelings behind. He would never want Mirio to be in pain, but if he was...he wanted to be the one person that Mirio could share that pain with.
“It’s okay,” Amajiki said quietly, hoping Mirio could hear him over his sobs. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
After a few moments, the sobs abated and Amajiki lowered them from sitting to lie back down. “Don’t let go,” Mirio pleaded, exhausted from crying.
Amajiki’s shoulder was covered in tears and snot. “I won’t.”
“Promise?”
Amajiki felt bad for smiling; it would be kind of cute if only the situation wasn’t quite so sad. “I promise.”
Mirio let out a relieved, tired sigh. “Tomorrow... I’ll go back to smiling tomorrow. Just let me...for tonight...” he mumbled, falling asleep in Amajiki’s arms.
Amajiki sighed for about the thousandth time while eating his very deliberately-assembled breakfast. What the heck was that about last night? This feeling of guilt threatened to crush him. Had Mirio kept that pent up this whole time? Did he have nightmares regularly? And suffer through them alone? Is that why Mirio made the ridiculous commute last night just to spend a few hours with him? Did he feel like his promise to Nighteye to keep smiling meant that he couldn’t admit to ever feeling sad? They were best friends, they lived together, he’d been in love with him since he was ten—how could he not have noticed that Mirio was struggling against something so heavy? What kind of lousy friend was he that he’d been so oblivious—
“Morning, senpai!” Kirishima chirped as he entered the little kitchen/lounge.
“Good morning,” Amajiki replied half-heartedly. Kirishima let out a big yawn and grimaced slightly, popping his neck. Amajiki inwardly panicked that maybe Kirishima looked so tired because he had heard him and Mirio talking, or worse, Mirio’s uncontrollable sobbing at two in the morning. “Sleep well?” he asked a bit shakily.
“Oh,” Kirishima looked a bit sheepish. “Fine, I guess...I’m just, uh, not used to sleeping alone anymore, I suppose.”
“Tamaki, have you seen my shirt?” Mirio said as he wandered into the lounge wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. “Oh, Kirishima-kun! Good morning!”
“Morning, Togata-senpai!” Kirishima replied cheerily, not missing a beat. “I didn’t know you were here.”
Amajiki herded Mirio out of the room before he had time to answer.
Mirio had gone back home, acting like last night had never happened and everything was totally 100% normal as ever. As he and Kirishima patrolled, Amajiki kept replaying last night’s conversation in his head, trying to figure out what the heck was going on, what he should have done, if Mirio was really okay...
A giant yawn escaped him. He really hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night. “I’m so tired,” he muttered to himself.
“I bet you are,” Kirishima smirked good-naturedly.
Amajiki flushed and scowled. “It’s not like that.”
“Riiight,” Kirishima said. “It’s okay, senpai. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about—”
“Enough!” Amajiki snapped, surprising himself. “Nothing happened, nothing changed. I don’t know why he came, maybe he was just bored. Everything is the same and we’re just friends and that’s it and that’s enough for me.”
“Obviously it’s not or you wouldn’t get so upset!” Kirishima protested. “Trust me, I’ve been through—”
“Yeah, well, you were lucky. You didn’t even know you were in love with your best friend until you could actually do something about it. I’ve had to keep it a secret for almost fifteen years.”
“But, senpai, I don’t think you have to keep it a secret— I mean, Togata-senpai isn’t like that! Even if he didn’t feel the same way, he would still want you to be honest! He wouldn’t push you away over something like that.”
“So if Bakugo had come to you and confessed and you didn’t feel the same way, you don’t think that would have weirded you out? Things wouldn’t have been awkward? You could still be friends after that?”
Kirishima scrunched up his face, thinking hard. “Honestly...I can’t picture a world where we’re not together.” He shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, senpai. But I can’t imagine not loving him.”
Amajiki pulled his hood tighter around his face. “I want to be mad at you right now, Kirishima-kun,” he mumbled, “but you’re just too embarrassing.”
“Bakugo tells me that all the time!” Kirishima laughed. “But I am, um, sorry that I don’t understand how it is.”
“It’s okay,” Amajiki said quietly.
“I’ll be cheering you on though!” Kirishima promised.
Amajiki just groaned.
Togata felt horrible. Rolling around on the couch and wallowing in pity was so not his style but thinking about last night filled him with embarrassment and shame and other ugly feelings that were foreign to him. His whole plan to confess had not just backfired but went down in flames in most spectacular fashion. He was supposed to be the positive one, the one that supported and bolstered Tamaki when he was insecure and second-guessing himself and needed support. Tamaki had told him more than once that he was like the sun.
Togata snorted. Some sun I am. How embarrassing for him to see me like this. He must think I’m a big phony. He’d never say anything, he’s too nice. But he must be disappointed in me.
He let out a big sigh. I can still save this. I just... Once I get my Quirk back, once I can be a hero again...once we’re equals again... I just have to rebuild what I was. It’s not too late, I can be his sun again. Then... Togata nodded to himself, resolution humming through his bones. I can do this. Just a little bit longer. No rush.
“I’m hooome!” Kirishima kicked off his shoes and wandered into the bedroom where Bakugo sat in bed, not looking up from whatever he was reading. “Hey,” Kirishima pouted, “where’s my welcome home kiss?”
Bakugo rolled his eyes. “You were gone one night.”
“Yeah, so?” Kirishima pulled his shirt off over his head. “I still missed you.”
“It was one night,” Bakugo repeated with a huff.
“Mmm,” Kirishima agreed idly, finishing shucking his clothes and sliding under the covers. “But I swear it wasn’t that long ago,” he scooted closer, kissing Bakugo’s exposed shoulder before brushing his lips against Bakugo’s neck, “that you told me you hate it when I’m not here.”
Bakugo’s eyes didn’t leave his book but he hadn’t turned a page in minutes. “I never said that,” he protested, albeit a bit weakly. He felt Kirishima’s lips smile against his skin. “You must’ve fucking dreamed it.”
“Must’ve,” Kirishima responded. He wrapped his arms around Bakugo’s waist and nuzzled his face in the crook of Bakugo’s neck, inhaling deeply.
“Oi.” Kirishima could hear the frown in Bakugo’s voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Amajiki-senpai is in love with Togata-senpai but he won’t do anything about it.”
“And that has jack shit anything to do with you how, exactly?”
“I just want them to be happy,” Kirishima explained. “But when I brought it up, Amajiki-senpai asked how I’d feel if you’d confessed to me and I didn’t feel the same way about you.”
There was a long pause. “And? What did you say?”
Kirishima raised his head up to look at him. “I said that no matter how hard I tried to picture that, I couldn’t imagine not loving you back.”
Bakugo blushed, growled, and threw his book at Kirishima in quick succession. “So fucking embarrassing.”
Kirishima laughed, picking up Bakugo’s book and setting it on the nightstand. “That’s what he said too!”
“I now pronounce you husband and husband!” Midnight officiated with her usual degree of flair. “You may kiss the groom!”
Eri watched, entranced by the beauty of it all. Red Riot leaned in, it looked like maybe he whispered something to Ground Zero? Then Ground Zero moved and his hand cupped Red Riot’s face and he was kissing him so lovingly and passionately and Eri had never seen anything like it and it was almost too much to watch but she couldn’t look away.
“Ahhh, youth! I love it!” Midnight exclaimed happily.
“Eri-chan! Cover your eyes!” Lemillion croaked, covering her face with his hand, though not very well.
“Kirishima-kun...” Suneater said, groaning in embarrassment. Eri looked over from where she sat between them and could see him covering his own eyes but peeking through his fingers.
She watched through Lemillion’s fingers as Ground Zero pulled back and for a moment, he and Red Riot looked into each other’s eyes as if they were the only two people in the world. Then Ground Zero smiled and they both looked so happy and Eri felt like she was watching something so special and precious and then the crowd erupted, startling her out of her thoughts.
She reached up and moved Lemillion’s hand from across her eyes, glancing over at him. He wasn’t looking at the grooms or at her; his eyes were locked on Suneater with such naked longing that she almost felt guilty, seeing something that she wasn’t supposed to. So she looked over at Suneater, his hands still partially covering his face, the tips of his ears bright red, his eyes flickering over her to Lemillion, then covering his face again in embarrassment.
Eri sighed, feeling caught in the tension originating from either side of her. For a moment she wondered if she simply stood up and was no longer between them if they would just smash together like magnets. She giggled inwardly at the mental image. It would solve a lot of problems if that were possible, but if that hadn’t happened yet in the seven years she’d been with them, it wasn’t likely to happen now. Not without a little encouragement.
“I-I guess I’ll offer Kirishima-kun our congratulations,” Suneater squeaked out.
“You should go too, Eri-chan,” Lemillion encouraged her. “Kirishima will be glad that you came. I’ll grab us some food.”
Eri followed Suneater over to the grooms, so resplendent in their white tuxes and aura of happiness that it almost hurt Eri’s eyes to look at them, but she wanted to soak up every detail. Suneater was squinting uncomfortably.
“Kirishima-kun, that was too embarrassing,” Suneater said, the tips of his ears still red from second-hand embarrassment.
“Senpai! Eri-chan!” Red Riot exclaimed with a big grin. “So glad you came! Oh, wow! Eri-chan’s almost all grown up!”
“Not all the way. But close,” Amajiki said, frowning slightly.
“Fourteen,” Eri volunteered.
“Hey, Tamaki!” Fat Gum’s voice boomed as he gave Suneater a hefty, friendly smack on the back despite Suneater’s resulting complaints of abuse. “Lemillion talked you into coming after all! Good for you!” He gave Eri an affectionate pat on the head. Sometimes Eri had a hard time imagining Fat Gum as a serious hero; to her, he was always just warm and happy. And squishy. “Eri-chan, looking cute today!”
“Speaking of, I better find Mirio before he gets into trouble,” Suneater groaned. Eri giggled in spite of herself; Suneater was always thinking of Lemillion, wasn’t he? “Kirishima-kun, congratulations.” Suneater gave an awkward nod, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
“Congratulations,” Eri copied, kind of wanting to say something else but not really knowing what. She stared a moment at Ground Zero and Red Riot, imagining Lemillion and Suneater in their place. She doubted Suneater would ever be not-embarrassed enough to stand there and look as ridiculously happy as Red Riot or as I’m-so-in-love-but-too-cool-to-act-like-it like Ground Zero, but she’d caught him countless times over the years with that soft smile on his face that was only for Lemillion. The more she thought about it, the more her heart hurt. She wanted this for them: to be beautiful and happy and finally together.
And she knew she was the reason they weren’t. They had sacrificed everything to take care of her.
So it was up to her to make things right. If she had been the wedge to keep them apart well...she would just have to be what brought them together.
“Aw, thanks.” Red Riot smiled. “Be sure to try the sweets, Eri-chan!”
There was no time like the present to implement her Get-My-Hero-Dads-Together Plan. “Suneater-san,” Eri asked innocently as she and Suneater walked off, “are you and Lemillion-san going to have a wedding like this?” Suneater loudly stumbled over a chair.
“Whoa, Tamaki,” Lemillion caught Suneater’s arm as he stumbled. “Are you drunk already?”
“No!” Suneater sputtered. “Eri just surprised me. She asked—” Suneater’s eyes went to Lemillion’s hand still lingering curled around his upper arm.
“Hmm?” Lemillion asked, obviously confused.
Suneater blushed profusely, yanking his arm out of Lemillion’s grip. “Nothing,” he mumbled.
“Okay,” Lemillion said easily. “They really went all out for this! Look at all this food!” He gestured for them to sit. “Here, Tamaki, you have to try this—” He held out an elegant spoon filled with some sort of fancy hors d'oeuvre.
It wasn’t until he took the bite from the spoon still in Lemillion’s fingers that Suneater apparently realized what he’d just done and embarrassment flooded his face. “What?” Lemillion asked, head tilted slightly to the side like a puzzled golden retriever. “You didn’t like it? I thought it was tasty.”
Eri sighed in frustration and took a bite of cake. How the heck do you get two people to actually realize they’re a couple when they’ve been together for years?
Deku’s agency was the meeting place. Eri didn’t know exactly what the meeting was about, but considering the people currently milling around the room, she assumed it had something to do with her. She and Lemillion had arrived first with Eraserhead and All Might showing up shortly thereafter, followed by Red Riot and Ground Zero. Fat Gum and Suneater were the last to arrive.
Eri watched Lemillion’s face as Suneater came through the door. She was starting to feel like some kind of stalker, always watching them watching each other. And it was just so frustrating. All of her attempts at getting them together had fallen flat. If she didn’t know better she would think they were just acting ridiculously obtuse on purpose to tease her. Finally she had hoped that maybe all they were waiting for was her to start high school. But no. Everything was the same as it had always been.
“Sorry you had to come all this way,” Deku apologized to Fat Gum.
“No biggie!” Fat Gum smiled. “I have business in town tonight anyway.” He looked around. “Are we the last ones?”
“Uh, Kacchan, you can sit in if you want—” Deku offered hesitantly.
“I’ll wait out here,” Ground Zero said, discarding his gloves and gauntlets and flopping on the far end of the couch from Eri.
“Great! You can keep Eri-chan company!” Red Riot grinned.
“I thought Kacchan didn’t like kids?” Deku ventured, not quietly enough.
“She’s not a kid—she’s like, what? Fifteen?” Ground Zero snapped.
“You’re all kids,” Eraserhead grumbled.
“Sounds like something an old man would say, Eraser,” Ground Zero said snidely.
Fat Gum laughed. “Enough teasing the old man—”
“You’re almost as old as I am!” Eraserhead groused. All Might chuckle-coughed behind his hand.
“—let’s get this meeting started.”
Everyone else filed into the meeting rooms, leaving Eri alone with Ground Zero in the waiting area. All of the sidekicks and assistants had vanished; Eri had overheard Deku assuring Lemillion and All Might that they were the only ones on this floor.
Eri thought about everyone in the meeting room. Fat Gum, who had risked his life on the mission to save her. Red Riot had almost died. All Might hadn’t participated, but he lost his dear friend. Suneater had faced three villains all alone. Deku, she heard later, was supposed to die saving her. Eraserhead had been horribly wounded and could have died. And Lemillion...he lost everything.
She didn’t want to cry; not here. She’d come so far, gotten so much stronger from that scared little girl she used to be, she didn’t want to cry, she didn’t deserve to cry when it was everyone else who had sacrificed—
“Oi,” Ground Zero startled her. “What’s with that face?”
“How can he ever forgive me?” she whispered. “How can he still smile when Sir Nighteye died because of me?”
Ground Zero didn’t ask who she meant by ‘he.’ “Welcome to the club,” he huffed. “Symbol of Peace died saving me, Nighteye died saving you.”
Eri‘s eyes widened in surprise and then confusion. “But All Might—”
“As a hero is no more,” Ground Zero said coldly. “The All Might you see these days looks that way because of me.” He took a deep breath. “Of all these people around you, I probably know the most how you feel. Every time I look at him, I think, ‘It’s my fault he’s like that.’ So...I get it. No matter how many times they say it’s not your fault or that risking their lives is what heroes do...and yeah, they’re right. I’m not saying we should be all wimpy and mopey and feeling sorry for ourselves. But we’re here because someone else sacrificed themselves for us. So, I—” Ground Zero looked at the floor. “I get how it feels, is all I’m saying.”
Silent tears trickled down Eri’s cheeks. “Thank you, Ground Zero-san.”
“Bakugo.”
Eri sniffled. “Thank you, Bakugo-san.”
“Hey, what—” he registered the tears and panic momentarily flashed across his face. “What the fu— what the heck are the tears for?!”
Eri laughed, wiping her cheeks. “I just...I guess it’s just a relief to hear someone say it? To have someone say they understand? I feel like I owe everyone so much and that I have to be happy and good or else it means I wasn’t worth saving...”
“Gimme your fu— phone.”
“What? Why?” Eri asked even as she handed it over.
Ground Zero tapped on the screen quickly and handed it back. “There. You have my number. So, you need to talk or some shi— something, you got questions, whatever, you can talk to me.”
Eri’s eyes widened and she held her phone in awe. “Really?”
Ground Zero snorted. “Apparently your heroes in there haven’t been much help with this so far,” he gestured toward the closed meeting room with a nod. “Besides, I don’t know that those nerds realize you’re not seven anymore. Especially your two dorky dads. Aren’t you in fu— frickin’ high school? They actually gonna let you out of their sight long enough for hero training?”
“Oh, I’m not in the hero course,” Eri corrected. “I’m just in general studies.” Bakugo frowned and she continued. “My, um, Quirk isn’t really...” she shrugged.
“I get that maybe it’s not for street heroes. But with a Quirk like that, the guys in charge are not just going to let you walk away from them.”
“I take extra classes,” Eri said, not sure how much she was allowed to disclose.
“Ah,” Bakugo said, realization on his face. “That makes sense. So you’re like, recruited. Special ops, secret team, muckety-mucks wearing black suits sort of thing.” Bakugo mulled it over. “That actually sounds pretty cool.”
“I just hope I’m good at it.”
Bakugo snorted. “Don’t fu— don’t ‘hope’ you’re good at it. Be good at it.”
Eri laughed, not really sure whether it was at his simplistically confident advice or his constant self-censoring. Either way, she did feel a little better.
“These gossipy old ladies are taking forever,” Bakugo complained, tapping his fingers on his knee impatiently.
Eri looked over, eyes catching on the matte black metal ring around Bakugo’s finger stark against his pale skin. She continued to stare, idly thinking how odd it was that this famous hero, known for his uncontrollable temper and outbursts and generally awful personality, so easily wore this symbol of his love and connection to another person. Even if they didn’t want to actually get married, she really wanted Suneater and Lemillion to wear rings for each other. Immediately, she felt childish and slightly guilty for the thought.
“What?” Bakugo asked.
“Can I ask you a question, Grou— Bakugo-san?”
“Go ahead,” he replied gruffly. “Can’t promise I’ll answer.”
“How did you know you were in love with Red Riot-san?”
“That’s what you’re going to fu— to ask?” Bakugo glared but Eri didn’t waver, staring back with big eyes. Bakugo tched. “Probably after Kamino,” he answered quietly. “When I really had to think about the fact that I was happier to see him than fu— than All Might. Knew something was really messed up then.” He let out a resigned sigh. “But how I really, really knew...was when I missed his singing.”
“His...singing?”
Bakugo glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “He always belts out enka in the shower,” he explained. “Fu— Absolutely awful. You can hear it through the whole house, he can’t sing for shi— crap. Then, because he’s apparently allergic to silence, he sings goofy pop songs or whatever to himself doing random shi— stuff all day. And it’s so fu— stupid because when he does that, he sounds perfectly fine. Anyway, for a while, we were, uh, fighting—”
“You two fight?”
“Everybody fights.”
“Suneater-san and Lemillion-san don’t.”
“You wanna hear my story or not?”
“Yes please.”
“So we were kinda fighting for a while. And he was, uh, avoiding me for a few days. I thought, hey, that’s fine; y’know, maybe I’ll have some fu— some peace and quiet in the house for a change. Instead, I actually missed his stupid voice singing stupid enka in the stupid shower. And that’s when I really knew... Anyway,” Bakugo cleared his throat, cheeks slightly pink. “If you tell anyone I told you this, I will kill you.”
Eri stared back solemnly as she could, lip quivering trying to keep from smiling. “Okay.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.” She gave in and smiled, just a little. “I used to think you were kind of scary. But you’re actually really nice.”
“Now I definitely have to kill you,” Bakugo growled. Eri giggled and heard the door to the meeting room open.
“Hey, what’s with the giggling out here?” Red Riot came into the room. “Eri-chan, you better not be flirting with my husband!” he teased.
Eri blushed a little in spite of herself and Bakugo rolled his eyes before standing up to pull on his gauntlets and gloves. “Are you fu- done yet? I’m freakin’ starving.”
“‘Freakin’?” Red Riot repeated with a smirk.
“Shut up, I hate you.” He punched Red Riot harmlessly in the ribs. “Later, Eri,” he called over his shoulder as he went out the door.
“Bye, Eri-chan!” Red Riot added, chasing after Bakugo.
The rest of the heroes funneled out of the meeting room. “Did you and Bakugo-kun have a nice chat?” All Might asked with a smile. Eri nodded.
Lemillion looked suspicious. “What did you talk about?”
“He threatened to kill me if I told you,” Eri replied.
Deku and Lemillion looked at each other, frowning. “I’ll have a talk with him,” Deku said seriously. “It’s not acceptable to say something like that—”
It took Eri a second to realize that they expected her to be offended. And, maybe if she was still seven, Bakugo’s threat would have been too familiar and struck a terrifying chord. But it had never crossed her mind to take him literally. “No, it’s okay!” she blurted. “It’s fine, it’s not...he was joking. He’s actually—” nice, she thought, “um, really funny.”
Everyone in the room looked at each other, not really knowing what to say. Finally, Deku squeaked out, “Kacchan? You think Kacchan is funny?”
“I knew we shouldn’t have left her alone out here,” Lemillion lamented.
That night, at home with Suneater and Lemillion, Eri worked up the nerve to ask. “So,” she tried unsuccessfully to sound casual, “was that meeting...” She had her answer by the look exchanged between Suneater and Lemillion, but she finished the question anyway. “Was that meeting about me?”
“It was...” Suneater said slowly, looking to Lemillion to take over.
Lemillion smiled, because that’s what Lemillion always did. “Eraser thinks you’re ready to try using your Quirk,” he said gently. The “on me” went unsaid, heavy in the air.
Eri’s eyes widened. Sure, this is what she’d been working toward since Lemillion had saved her years ago. She didn’t care if she could never use her Quirk ever again, if only she could use it one time to restore Lemillion. But the risk was so huge if her control was just a little off...and with it being a Quirk that affected living things, it was extremely difficult to practice.
“No rush,” Lemillion said, patting her on the head. “He was just saying he thinks you’re ready. But you decide when you think you’re ready. Okay?”
Eri nodded, not really knowing what to say.
Amajiki tried to furtively stare at Mirio, the light of the tv screen highlighting his profile. Eri had gone to her room, excusing herself for the night. The only sound in the room was the tv, but it wasn’t enough of a distraction. He felt like he should say something but had no idea what. Usually Mirio could carry on a conversation pretty much by himself and Amajiki could just sit and listen and be content.
But today...today was the first time the thing they’d waited for, hoped for, for years could actually be a reality. Mirio getting his Quirk back was no longer just a theory or distant concept, an indefinite “maybe” years in the future. However, just because it was finally a real possibility didn’t mean it was guaranteed to be any less dangerous.
Amajiki allowed himself to stare. Was trying to get “Lemillion” back worth the risk of losing Mirio entirely?
Should he say something? Should he tell Mirio how he felt? In case he never got the chance? Should he say that it didn’t matter if he didn’t have a Quirk, he loved him no matter what? That he’d never stopped shining, even during that night months ago that they’d never spoken of again when Mirio clung to him, desperate and sobbing, he still thought he was so bright and beautiful and—
“No rush,” Mirio said, derailing Amajiki’s thoughts. He turned his head, smiling slightly. “We’ve waited this long. There’s no hurry.”
Then do you need to do it at all? Amajiki wanted to ask, hating himself for thinking it. Mirio was born to be a hero. I can’t hold him back from this. I have no right to let my fear get in his way. If I don’t trust in anything else in the world, I trust in him.
“Unless...” Mirio said, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “You’re tired of waiting for me?” Amajiki shook his head rapidly and Mirio laughed. “Whew! I was starting to worry.” He reached over and ruffled Amajiki’s hair.
I’m not Eri, that you need to pat my head like a child, Amajiki thought with mild irritation, right before Mirio’s fingers trailed down, tracing lightly around the shell of his ear, lingering around the pointy tip.
Amajiki breathed a happy sigh and then froze. That sound had come from him? His eyes flew wide—when had he closed them?—and he scuttled back, half falling off the couch. “I— Um— Asleep. Tired. Falling asleep— Sorry. Good night.” He half-ran to his room.
Togata still sat on the couch, slightly stunned. He hadn’t actually meant to do that. It was like his hand just had a mind of its own. But he was nothing if not an optimist so he decided to focus more on Tamaki’s initial reaction to being touched than Tamaki’s-reaction-to-his-reaction.
“Ah well,” Togata said, leaning back on the couch. “No rush.” Whether he was referring again to Eri or to Tamaki—or both—he didn’t really know.
It turned out that they didn’t have to wait as long as Amajiki expected. No one had said anything about it for several days, acting as everything was perfectly normal, not wanting to pressure Eri into attempting anything before she felt confident. But only a few weeks had passed before she brought it up on her own.
So now here they were, outside the infirmary at UA, waiting for Aizawa to join them. Amajiki didn’t know that it was particularly necessary to do this at the infirmary instead of at home. If something went wrong was there really anything that could be done here to fix things? Deku had offered to join them as moral support for Eri or backup for...whatever. To Amajiki’s relief, Eri had declined. He had wanted the fewest people possible and was pleasantly surprised that Eri felt the same way. So it would just be the three of them and Aizawa, since he was the only one that could really stop her if things went wro—
No. He couldn’t think about that.
He glanced at Mirio, leaning against the wall next to him. Amajiki opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated.
“I’ll be right back,” Eri blurted.
“Everything okay?” Mirio asked, frowning in concern.
“Fine! Don’t worry!” Eri smiled, a bit fake. “Everything’s okay, I just...forgot something. I’ll be right back! In like...five minutes.”
“Probably had to pee,” Mirio said after she scurried off.
“Um, Mirio...” Amajiki said, voice shaky.
“It’ll be okay,” Mirio said. Amajiki looked at him in surprise and Mirio just smiled brightly back at him. “I know what you’re gonna say.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled wider. “I’ve known you a long time, after all. You’re a hopeless worrywart.”
“Mirio...” Amajiki whined, embarrassed. He turned and hid his face against the wall.
“Here,” Mirio said, gently taking Amajiki’s shoulders and turning him back, so that Amajiki’s face was buried instead in Mirio’s shoulder. Mirio’s arms stayed wrapped loosely around him. “I promise it’ll be okay. Trust me.”
Amajiki looked up, but Mirio was shining too brightly and he had to look away. “I just...” he wavered. This was important so he mustered up everything he could to look Mirio in the eye as he said it. “Whether you have a Quirk or not, you’ll always be a hero to me.” Amajiki managed to say it but immediately after it left his mouth, his face flushed and he buried his face back in Mirio’s shoulder. I meant it but why did it sound so cheesy?
At the sound of someone clearing his throat, Amajiki jumped away from Mirio, startled at getting caught. Aizawa stood, very much not looking directly at them, Eri peeking from slightly behind him. “Ahem,” Aizawa began awkwardly, “shall we get started?”
Lemillion sat on the bed and Eri sat on the stool in front of him, her hand lightly on his arm. She tried to keep from shaking.
He’s done everything for me. He gave up everything to save me. I have to do this. I can’t fail. This is the one way I can pay him back. I can’t mess up. If this goes wrong, Suneater will never forgive me. I will never forgive me.
“Eri-chan,” Lemillion said softly, putting his warm hand over her trembling one. “You don’t have to do this right now. It’s okay.”
She looked up at him, remembering moments ago when she and Eraserhead had peeked around the corner, how tenderly Lemillion had been holding and gazing at Suneater. She could give them their future back. And as far as she knew, she was the only one who could.
“I can do it,” Eri said firmly. “Just...give me a minute to focus.” She closed her eyes and took a breath. She remembered years ago, at the start of all this, Lemillion’s red cape wrapped around her. If one thing in the world represented safety to her, it was that cape. She mentally wrapped herself in that cape, feeling safety envelope her. Eri took another deep breath and with her eyes still closed, she lightly touched Lemillion’s arm. The safety of the imaginary red cape blocked out all negative thoughts, all doubts, protecting her from any distractions so she could focus...focus...focus...carefully searching for the moment in time—in Lemillion—that she needed...
...there.
Her hand twitched imperceptibly and with a sigh, she deactivated her Quirk and opened her eyes.
Lemillion opened his eyes at the same time; she hadn’t known he closed them along with her. For the most part he looked the same; maybe a couple tiny wrinkles around his eyes were missing. But considering she hadn’t been totally sure she could rewind to his Quirk without also rewinding him to the age he lost it...ending up with an eighteen-year-old Lemillion had been a very real possibility. But at least if that had been the result, they’d have visual evidence that something had happened. Just looking at him as he was now, there was no way to really tell—
“Mirio?” Suneater warbled.
“Ah,” Lemillion scratched his head. “I don’t feel any different.” Everyone’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. “But hey! I’m okay! We can always try again, right?” He stood and opened his arms wide. “C’mon, you guys, don’t look like it’s the end of the world.”
Eraserhead looked away discreetly so Eri and Suneater could step into Lemillion’s outstretched arms for the hug he obviously wanted. They slumped into his arms and then—
—phased right through. Lemillion’s laughter filled the room. “You should see your faces!”
“Lemillion-san!”
“Mirio!” Suneater wailed. “I can’t believe you’d joke at a time like this!”
“Aw, Tamaki, I couldn’t resist,” Lemillion grinned. He looked down at his shirt on the floor; it had fallen off when he phased. “Gah, I’m out of practice.”
“It worked,” Eri breathed.
“It worked!” Eraserhead agreed, excitement evident on his face.
“It worked,” Suneater started crying. Lemillion laughed, raising his hand to help brush away the tears.
“Eri-chan,” Hand still on Suneater’s face, Lemillion looked at her, eyes twinkling. “You did it. Thank you.” He grinned. “You’re my hero.”
Eri swallowed back the lump in her throat, blinking rapidly to dissipate the threatening sting of tears. Her eyes focused on Lemillion, or rather on his hand cupping Suneater’s face, wiping away his tears with his thumb. She couldn’t relax yet; she had one more thing to do. “I’m hungry,” she announced, seemingly apropos of nothing. “Eraserhead-san and I are going to go eat.” She locked eyes with a surprised Eraserhead, mentally begging him to go along without asking questions.
“We’ll come—” Lemillion began.
“No,” Eri blurted. “You and Suneater-san stay here. We’ll be gone, leaving you two alone.” She looked at Eraserhead again and he raised an eyebrow in understanding or amusement or perhaps both. As long as he went along with her plan, that’s all she cared about. “So you two, stay here. And, um, don’t come out until you’re boyfriends!”
With that, she hurriedly left the room, Eraserhead thankfully following behind her, unsuccessfully trying to keep a smirk from his face.
Once they were a safe distance from the infirmary, Eri slowed. “Hey,” Eraserhead said, and she stopped, turning to look at him. He smiled, which looked foreign on him but not necessarily bad. “Good job.”
Eri looked at him a moment. Good job, echoing in her ears. Her bottom lip started trembling and she couldn’t hold back anymore. She started bawling.
“Whoa whoa whoa!” Eraserhead stammered.
“I’m. Just. So. Happy,” Eri sobbed. “Finally I— Lemillion-san always wanted to save a million people. But the only person I wanted to save was him.”
“Ah.” Eraserhead sighed. He pulled Eri into an awkward hug and she continued to cry against his shoulder.
“What was that about?” Amajiki panicked.
“Seems our little girl’s all grown up,” Mirio faux-lamented. “Well, you heard her.”
For some reason, Mirio’s hands were still holding his face, even though there were no longer any tears for him to brush away. Mirio looked at him a little too intently and leaned in.
“W-what are you doing?” Amajiki stuttered.
“I’m going to kiss you,” Mirio moved closer. “So if you don’t want me to, you better tell me to stop.”
“W-wha—? S-stop!” Amajiki panicked. He scrunched his eyes closed, “W-wha—Why—” His lip started trembling, he felt like crying again—
Mirio’s lips were soft on his, the sensation of what was actually happening short-circuiting Amajiki’s brain for a moment. Mirio is kissing me. Mirio. Mirio has his Quirk and he’s alive and beautiful and he’s kissing me.
When they parted, Amajiki couldn’t look at him. “Why did you do that?”
“Ah,” Mirio scratched his head sheepishly. “Sorry. I know I told you to tell me to stop, but—”
“No, I mean...” he gestured lamely. “Is it because Eri said..?”
Mirio blinked in confusion, then smiled radiantly. “It’s because you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to kiss, Tamaki.” His expression changed to something more serious. “And I decided that, if—once I got my Quirk back, and we were equals again, kissing you was the first thing I wanted to do.”
Amajiki’s shoulders slumped. Equals? Mirio was worried about being equals? It was laughable. I’ve never thought of myself as his equal. He’s so...amazing. In what world was he worried about being inferior to me? Even without a Quirk, he’s so far above—
“Tamaki?” Mirio ventured. “Are you mad? Did you really want me to stop—”
“Yes! No! I don’t know!” Amajiki crumpled. “How stupid can you be? Equals? I never cared about any of that! I just wanted...” his voice got tiny. “...to be with you.” Mirio’s eyes widened and he hugged Amajiki so tightly he could hardly breathe. “Mirio...you’re crushing me...”
“Not fair,” Mirio mumbled into Amajiki’s hair. “You’re just so cute, it’s not fair.”
“C-c-cute?” Amajiki said, flustered. “Nothing about me is cute—” Mirio interrupted him by kissing him again.
“Everything,” Mirio peppered Amajiki’s face with feathery kisses between every word, “about” -kiss- “you” -kiss- “is” -kiss- “cute” -kiss- “and” -kiss- “cool” -kiss- “and” -kiss- “absolutely” -kiss- “amazing.”
Amajiki scrunched up his face, trying to keep from melting. “Mirio, stop! That’s too much!”
“But I’ve been waiting for this since high school!” Mirio protested. “Unless..you don’t feel the same..?”
“Stupid Mirio,” Amajiki stammered, trying unsuccessfully to glare. “High school? I’ve been waiting a lot longer than that.”
Mirio’s smile was blinding. He leaned in again but Amajiki held a hand to his lips, stopping him. “I-it’s not...you can’t keep kissing me when you’re...shirtless.” He couldn’t help it; his eyes kept wandering to soak in the view. Sure, he’d seen Mirio not only shirtless but completely naked more times than he could count. But today was...different.
Mirio smiled against Amajiki’s fingertips, his own hand sliding under Amajiki’s shirt. Goosebumps followed where Mirio lightly brushed a thumb against his ribs. “What if we’re both shirtless?” he teased.
Amajiki’s face was on fire and he was pretty sure steam would be coming out of his ears any minute. He stammered incoherently, afraid he was about to pass out from embarrassment overload.
Laughing, Mirio hugged him close. “Too soon?” He grinned before breathing a happy sigh. “It’s okay, Tamaki. We have all the time in the world.” He kissed the tip of a pointy ear. “No rush.”