The lunch table fourth from left and near the north windows was, as usual, a riot of laughter and youth. IIda, attempting to corral order, tapped his finger impressively on the surface of the table, to no effect at all.
It was a bit noisy, almost overwhelming. Yaoyozuru had only dropped by their table to speak to Iida, but now was leaning over him and Ochako both to argue project work with Todoroki, illustrating her points- and his- with diminutive models of materials too complicated for Deku to understand. He grasped the basics, but as their conversation moved into ever-greater heights of esoterica (and as Todoroki set a napkin on fire), he gave up and looked around the lunch room, instead.
All-Might flashed them a shining grin to go with his shining thumbs-up, slipping sideways out of the canteen to go to (others presumed) another hostage situation, another disaster. Deku knew he was going back to the health teacher for hia liquid lunch. He hoped that sensei's stomach wouldn't trouble him so much today. The glow of sensei's smile lingered in him like a fading sun.
At a distant table: Kacchan, eating alone. Deku, looking at him, was possessed by a vivid sense of unreality.
It was strange how he was here, and not Kacchan; Kacchan so talented, so charismatic, so loved.
The angle of his chin leonine, Kacchan watched them. Or ate his lunch. It was hard to tell. He was neither fuming nor sulking: the eyes under his unfurrowed brows glinted at Deku across the hall.
Tsuyu nudged Deku: he hadn't even realised that he'd paused with his chopsticks half reaching down into his bowl. She looked at him inquiringly.
"Sh-should," said Deku. Stupid, Kacchan wasn't even seeinghim. He gathered all his breath, his courage, his words. "Should we i-invite him to sit here? Kacchan looks-" lonely, was on the tip of his tongue, but all wrong, so wrong. Kacchan looked, as he put his can of drink back to his mouth without taking his eyes off their table, like a king surveying the field.
"No," said Tsuyu. As Deku's face fell, she relented slightly. "If he wants to join us," she pointed out, "he can always come over and ask."
Deku looked down, almost instinctively. "I guess you're right," he said. He snuck a look back across the room. Kacchan had crumpled his empty can in his hand, and tossed it into the trash can- four tables away from him. He would not ask.