From the day of the entrance exam, it was clear Midoriya was different. Everyone could see it, Iida most of all.

"Different" was not necessarily a good thing, of course. Midoriya was different in that his Quirk absolutely decimated him; no one else at the entrance exam had had such severe problems, not even the entrants who'd failed. But, in Midoriya's case, "different" wasn't all bad, either. Iida could still remember the blank-minded shock he'd felt as he watched Midoriya leap into the air, risking his life to fight something that would not even earn him any points. Iida didn't understand it at the time, but of course Midoriya had been right all along. The test itself had been designed to favor students like him - those who rescued not for points or recognition but simply to ensure others' safety. From that very first day, Iida knew that Midoriya was different than him.

Better than him.

From the beginning, Midoriya was ranked up there with Tensei in Iida's mind. He had the makings of a true hero - he was not a natural, exactly, but was someone with a hero's spirit. Iida did not know how he could stand beside Midoriya and call himself his equal when there was such a powerful difference between them. The fight in Hosu only amplified this feeling of his. And then when Bakugou was kidnapped, and it seemed like Midoriya was going to do something terrible and reckless, something hit Iida, hit him like a blow - the very real possibility that Midoriya could be taken from him, injured in the way Tensei was or worse. Iida realized the thought of being without Midoriya made him sick to his stomach, made him clammy and pale with fear he hadn't felt since the fight with Stain in the alley.

When he joined in the efforts to rescue Bakugou, it had all been for Midoriya. At that moment, to Iida's tired brain - with the fresh trauma of the training camp attack perhaps coloring his thinking - he felt it would be better to die alongside Midoriya in battle than stand aside and regret his inaction for the rest of his life.

The rescue mission went as well as could be hoped, but then Iida had things he was forced to consider: he was willing to break rules for Midoriya, risk his safety and attendance at U.A. for Midoriya, and, if the time came for it, perhaps even die for Midoriya. So what exactly did this mean?

It was easy enough to push these feelings aside when there was imminent danger, to focus on the task at hand. But when all was said and done, when Bakugou was home safe, their continued attendance at U.A. was assured, and the villains were caught or back in hiding - what could Iida do with the self-knowledge he'd discovered without meaning to?

How could he go back to being Midoriya's friend when Iida was now aware of how much more Midoriya meant to him?

Things stayed more or less the same between them for a while, simply because Iida wasn't sure how to change that. He knew his feelings for Midoriya were powerful, stronger than friendship - but what exactly those feelings were, he wasn't exactly sure. What word could he use to describe how he felt? "Crush" seemed terribly shallow when they'd risked their lives for one another, saved each other's skin, and shown their willingness to get hurt or die for one another. Whether he loved Midoriya was of course another story, but "crush" was certainly too flippant a term.

So what do I want us to be? Iida wondered. How much further could their relationship develop when they had already gone so far together, faced down so much side by side?

How much more did Iida want?

He asked himself the question, but did not rush the answer; he let himself ruminate on it for days before he reached his conclusion. Yes, he did want more: he did want to deepen his relationship with Midoriya, if Midoriya wanted that too. It was far more likely that he did not, of course, and that was fine. Iida did not feel within him a desire to possess Midoriya, but instead a need to ensure his happiness. More than anything Iida wanted to be the source of that happiness, but if he was not, he would help Midoriya find whatever or whoever was. Midoriya's feelings came before Iida's own.

At first, Iida could hardly dare to even let himself think about the idea of romantic and physical closeness with Midoriya. He felt dirty even just to imagine holding Midoriya's hand, but he found himself thinking of it nonetheless - what that hand might feel like in his, the temperature and shape of it, the texture its scars might have.

Iida found his guilt mixed with pleasure as he imagined scenarios of himself with Midoriya. He thought of putting his arm around Midoriya's shoulders, Midoriya falling asleep with his head in Iida's lap, of running his fingers through his hair. He avoided these thoughts as much as he could during the day, but each night as he was falling asleep his mind would slip away from him, coming up with these scenes almost against his will. When he saw Midoriya the next day, Iida was always filled with guilt - but later that night, he would find himself going down the same train of thought anyway.

Some days, when he was sparring with Midoriya, or speaking with him in class, or studying with him or just simply existing near him, Iida would be filled with an almost monklike sense of serenity and think: What's wrong with me? This is enough. I don't need more. Just being near Midoriya gave Iida inner strength; having a good conversation with him left Iida cheerful for days. And then night would come and Iida would lie in bed, cold and alone, pathetically imagining Midoriya was beside him, and he would think: Something needs to change.

In the end it was not Iida that changed things. Midoriya pulled him aside at lunch one day and said he had something to talk about, and asked if they could sit together - alone. Iida was worried and a little flattered; that he would be the chosen confidante surprised him. "Of course," he said in response. "I do hope everything is alright."

"It's…" Midoriya sighed. "It's fine, I mean… Well, today, Uraraka told me that she has feelings for me."

Iida felt a mix of emotions at those words. Surprise - disappointment - fear; was Midoriya going to tell Iida that he was dating Uraraka now? Had he called Iida over to tell him he needed space, that they couldn't be as close now that he had a girlfriend? But no - that didn't make sense -

Iida realized during the awkward, too-long silence that Midoriya was waiting for some kind of reaction. He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. "So, ah, what was your response?"

"I felt terrible," Midoriya said. "I kinda knew about it for a long time, you know? I was hoping she wouldn't confess, but I kind of had this answer planned out for if she did."

"You… you knew?"

"Yeah," Midoriya said slowly, "yeah, even I knew. I - I love her as a friend, and she's very important to me, but I just don't feel…" He shook his head. "I think she knew I was going to say it, too. But she felt she had to make her feelings known."

In that moment, Iida had never in his life identified more with Uraraka. "How did she take your response?"

"She… she was sad, of course. I felt terrible. It's not a fun thing to do." He sighed again, his voice quavering a little. "I hope it doesn't put anything between us. I'd hate to lose her friendship."

"I'm sure Uraraka won't let anything ruin what you have!" Iida said, his voice loud enough to make Midoriya flinch. He paused, and continued on more quietly: "She is a very mature person, and I'm sure she will not take rejection personally."

"It's hard not to take something like that personally, though," Midoriya said. "She might not mean to, but…"

"Midoriya," Iida said, "you are inventing problems that haven't happened yet! Have some faith in Uraraka!"

Midoriya looked at him and gave him a little smile. It made Iida's heart ache, to see the worry and guilt in his eyes. "Thanks, Iida," Midoriya said. "I appreciate it."

"Of course!" Iida said, forcing himself to smile too. "Please don't be afraid to confide in me. That's what friends are for."

In the end, it turned out that Midoriya was right, at least at first: Uraraka was more awkward around Midoriya in the days following her confession. Iida could see that her conversations with him were more stilted and shorter, and he found himself often feeling stuck in the middle as he tried to encourage conversation between them. More often than not, though, it didn't work.

After about a week had passed, the three of them were studying in Iida's room. The mood was fine as long as they had material to study, but when they'd gone through their notes and were just sitting on the floor together, not sure what to do, it began to feel strange to Iida once more. Uraraka looked at her phone and, after a moment, began to gather her things. "I'm going to head out," she said, smiling, although even Iida could see it was forced. "Thank you for your help, both of you!"

"It's no problem," Iida said. Midoriya was silent. After she left, he continued staring at the papers spread out across the floor.

"Midoriya, is something wrong?" Iida asked, inching just slightly closer.

"I wish things were back to normal."

Iida sat still, not sure what to say. He was only good at consoling others when the problems had to do with villains or schoolwork. He wasn't that great at helping people feel better, but he understood those things well enough to be useful in offering advice to someone who needed it. But Iida didn't have nearly as much experience dealing with interpersonal conflicts. He'd only ever had feelings for others; he'd never had to reject someone else who had a crush on him. So, for the first time, Iida took a moment to think of himself in Midoriya's place - how it might feel to have to reject someone like Uraraka, who he did care deeply for, in a platonic way. It would be unpleasant, Iida thought - the fear of losing a friend, the guilt over causing them pain. It stung to imagine it.

"Midoriya," Iida said at last. "Whatever happens between you and Uraraka, please know I am here for you. I might not have experience in these matters myself, but you can confide in me. If there is anything I can do for you, please make me aware of it."

Iida worried sometimes that he came off too strong when he said things like this, and one day Midoriya would turn away from him because of the obvious imbalance in their feelings; but maybe Midoriya was used to it by now, because he just smiled. It was a real smile, too, and Iida felt his heart beat faster because of it. "Thanks, Iida," Midoriya said. "You're a good friend."

"Thank you!" Iida beamed back at him. "I try my best!"

From that day onwards Iida tried to make up for everything Midoriya had lost in the deterioration of his friendship with Uraraka. The two of them studied together, sat together at lunch, and partnered up in classes whenever they could. Iida did his best to be aware of Midoriya's mood, to know if he needed to rein in his affections, but he never got that sense. If anything, Iida felt Midoriya might have been grateful for the attention Iida was giving him.

But one night, after working on homework together until late, Midoriya put his head in his hands and heaved a deep sigh. "What is it?" Iida asked, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I'm…" Midoriya raised his head from his hands to meet Iida's eyes. He wasn't crying, but his face looked pale, his eyes red-rimmed and tired. "Iida, I'm…"

"You can tell me," Iida said. "Anything. I promise I won't laugh or judge."

"I'm lonely," Midoriya said at last. He stared down at his hands which rested loosely in his lap. "I'm so lonely, I just… I don't know. Maybe I'm just spoiled from living with my mom my whole life, but here, I feel… I…"

Iida looked at him in silence, wishing he was astute enough to understand exactly what Midoriya meant without making him finish a sentence that was obviously difficult for him to say.

"I feel alone," Midoriya said, and sighed again. "Like… I have friends, and teachers and everything, of course. And I can go call my mom if I want to. But I feel like…"

He looked at Iida and bit his lip.

"Midoriya," Iida said, trying to keep his voice as gentle as he could, "is there anything at all I can do for you?"

"Hug me," he said, the words coming out in a rush. Iida was there in an instant, putting his arms around Midoriya as fast as he could. Midoriya laughed in surprise and leaned into the touch. They were sitting on the floor, so the position was a little awkward, but in that moment nothing mattered to Iida but Midoriya. He had his face pressed against Iida's shoulder and it sounded like he was really crying now, but Iida just held him there, having to actually restrain himself from squeezing too tight.

I'm really holding him, Iida thought. I have my arms around Midoriya. He felt warm and solid. It was different than Iida had imagined all those nights - and then, in thinking that, Iida felt a flash of guilt to remember how he'd maligned his friend in that way, again and again. After a moment he withdrew.

"Please don't be afraid to ask for things like that," Iida said. "It's my duty as a friend. I care deeply about your happiness."

"Thank you," Midoriya said, and turned away, wiping his tears.

After that day, their friendship changed a little. They spent just as much time together and did exactly the same things, but they touched more often. When they were alone they would hug sometimes. When they sat side by side, Midoriya would often be close enough so that his leg was pressed against Iida's in a casual way. And Iida thought the frequent physical contact was actually helping to improve Midoriya's mood - he seemed livelier when they were together, and Iida never saw him as sad as he'd been the night he'd broken down and asked to be touched. So Iida was glad: he had concrete proof that he was providing some form of comfort.

But, on the other hand, it was awful. Now Iida was haunted by his thoughts of physical contact with Midoriya all the time, not just at night. He would see him in class and think of how it felt to hold his body in his arms; he'd try and extrapolate, based on that feeling, what it might be like to put his arm around Midoriya's shoulders and pull him close against his chest. Or his hands - Midoriya's hands were still elusive; sometimes they brushed Iida's, but he never got to savor the touch. More than anything, Iida wanted to feel those hands, hold them, explore them.

Iida felt like he was actually losing control of himself. The one thing he needed to keep in mind, the one, most important thing he had to remember, was to not reveal his affections to Midoriya. Poor Uraraka had broken this rule, and look how things were between the two of them. Sure, they were better now, but it was still stilted; certainly Iida did not often see them hug.

But the more time Iida spent with Midoriya, the closer to the surface Iida's feelings rose. He worried constantly that something in his behavior would give him away - that he'd hold onto a hug for a little too long, or press himself just a little too close, and Midoriya would just know. But on the other hand, Iida felt he could not scale back his affections; it was certainly the thing that made him happiest, and it seemed to make Midoriya happy too. He only hoped he could hold onto the charade of being a platonic friend for as long as possible.

One day, someone knocked on the door of Iida's room. It was a Friday; he didn't have anything to study for, so Iida was sitting alone, reading. After he called out "Come in!" Uraraka padded in on stockinged feet, looking a little apologetic, and shot him a smile. "Can I talk to you for a bit?"

"Of course!"

She sat gingerly on the bed, not quite next to him but close, and said, "I've been wondering something lately."

"What is it?"

"Do you and Deku, I mean - are you-"

Iida felt himself tense. His first impulse was to deny anything and everything, but he held still, waiting for her to finish.

"Are you and he… dating?"

Iida coughed. "Um," he said, his mind racing, "ah…" He thought about it for a long moment as she waited, silent and patient, for him to continue. More than anyone in the world, she would understand his feelings towards Midoriya, because she felt the same way. Yet would it be cruel for him to talk about his feelings with her? Would she see it as him rubbing salt in the wound?

Hoping it wasn't as rude as he feared, Iida decided to trust Uraraka. It would feel good to tell someone - he'd been feeling as if he might go crazy if he did not. "I have -feelings - for Midoriya," Iida said. Then he exhaled; that hadn't been so difficult to say after all. "I have for a long time, but lately these feelings have… escalated. Perhaps that's why you noticed."

"You have feelings for him?" She looked puzzled. "How come you phrased it that way? Are you saying it's one-sided?"

"Of course." Iida frowned. "What impression were you under?"

"Well, I thought…" She rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. "I thought you two were dating. Like, a couple. I thought you were trying to hide it from me because you felt bad, and I was coming here to tell you that you didn't have to."

They looked at each other for a long moment. Iida cleared his throat, not knowing quite how to respond to that. "I, uh," he began. "No. Unfortunately not. May I ask what gave you that impression?"

"Something's different between you two," she said. "I don't know if I can explain what I mean, but I noticed a different vibe between you guys. You seem closer than you used to be. You look at each other differently, and you sit closer together…" She laughed. "When I say it like this, it sounds like I'm crazy, but I really don't think I'm imagining it."

"You aren't crazy!" Iida said quickly. "As I said, there are romantic feelings involved. It's just that they are one sided. Perhaps Midoriya and I have grown closer since, since - since your confession to him. He told me that he felt a distance between the two of you and I have been trying to make up for it."

The words sounded pathetic as soon as he spoke them, and Iida regretted it almost immediately. Uraraka's eyes were soft when she met his gaze, and Iida had to remind himself that she was his friend - it was okay to tell her these things, even if they were embarrassing to say aloud. She'd understand.

"Iida," she said, after a pause, "I really don't think it's one-sided."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know him better than just about anyone, you know? I - I still like him, even though I'm trying to give him some distance, so I can get over how I feel. But he looks at you in a way he never looked at me."

Iida felt his chest tighten.

"I could be wrong, of course," Uraraka went on. "I don't want to make you think it's a for-sure thing, and then it turn out not to be true! But that's just how I feel, from watching the two of you interact."

"What… what exactly are you saying?"

"Oh, Iida," she said, "are you being dense on purpose? I think he likes you back!"

Iida wasn't prepared for the emotions that surged into his mind. Disbelief, doubt, hope, guilt. "If that's true," he said, speaking slowly, "then… then I couldn't - because you-"

Somehow she seemed to know what he meant to say, even though he did not finish his sentence. "You're sweet, but don't worry about me," she said, smiling. "If you guys do really both like each other, I'd feel terrible if I stood in the way of something happening between you."

"Still," Iida said. "Still. I don't know… I don't know if I can believe that could even be true. I mean… It's me we're talking about. And Midoriya. Do you really think it's possible…"

Uraraka was staring at him, her eyes wide. "What are you talking about?" she said. "Of course it's possible!"

Iida paused, biting his lip. Maybe this was where their mutual understanding ended. It was hard to put into words exactly how he felt about himself - the sense of lesserness, of always looking up at Midoriya, standing in his shadow. Iida decided to change the subject slightly. "Do you think the best course of action would be to make my feelings for him known? I worry that if he truly does not feel the same as I do, it will negatively impact my friendship with him."

"You're worried about losing what you have now?" she said, her voice quiet.

"I'm sorry!" Iida said, realizing how his words must have stung. "I didn't think-"

"He and I are still friends, you know?" she said. "It's not like that's gone. I took a risk, but I don't regret it. If he'd said yes to me, I would have been happier, of course. But ultimately my goal was just to let him know how I felt. I'm not sad about how things worked out."

After a moment had passed, Uraraka jumped to her feet. "I'm going out with Ashido and Tsuyu," she said. "Hope you have a great evening!"

"Thank you," Iida said. "Have fun."

"Thanks!"

He sat there for a long time after she left, going over her words, wondering if he would feel the same way if he took the risk she had.

I will wait, he thought. Wait and watch, and try to see through her eyes.

From then on Iida was hyper-aware of every look Midoriya gave him. There was no such thing as a casual glance, not anymore; Iida tried to analyze each expression, hoping to get some clarity through study. He wasn't especially good at that sort of thing; if Uraraka hadn't brought it up initially, he wasn't sure he would have ever noticed that Midoriya looked at him differently than anyone else. But after a week or so, he thought she might possibly be right - maybe he did look at Iida in a way that was oddly tender, and let his gaze linger a little longer than was perhaps normal for two platonic friends.

That was all well and good to know, of course, but the idea of actually saying anything to Midoriya was downright terrifying. Still, ever since his talk with Uraraka, Iida was beginning to think it was the right thing to do. Her words would run through his head over and over again: I took a risk, but I don't regret it. And he had a lot to lose, but if he wasn't careful he was going to lose it anyways - either through Iida's feelings becoming so obvious that he couldn't hide them any more, or through Midoriya finding someone else, someone he did like back. If it was inevitable, Iida would at least like to have it happen on his own terms.

So, applying the same careful consideration and logic he applied to every other facet of his life, Iida made a plan. He chose Midoriya's room as the setting: private enough to ensure it would not be interrupted, but not his own room - if it went badly, he would be able to leave, rather than be forced to kick Midoriya out. He began writing his confession - not exact words, not like a script, but enough of a guide for him to get through the most important points. I admire you greatly - I enjoy my time around you - I wish to spend more time around you -

And then, a couple of weeks after his conversation with Uraraka, when Iida was still creating his plan, something very strange happened. It was a Wednesday night; they were in Midoriya's room, studying. It had been a long day, filled with sparring and exercises and, on top of that, they had a math test the next day. Iida was more or less just focused on getting through the week. Confessing was the last thing on his mind.

Midoriya was on the bed, and Iida was sitting on the floor, leaning against it. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, and froze when he felt something touch his head. It was Midoriya's fingers; they slid through his hair, the touch light. Iida didn't dare move an inch.

Midoriya's hand stroked from the beginning of Iida's hairline to the cowlick at the very top of his head, then started over again. When it was halfway through its second stroke the hand stopped dead. Slowly, slowly, Iida turned around, and looked up to see Midoriya staring at him, his eyes wide and his hand still resting on Iida's head.

"Midoriya," Iida said, voice barely above a whisper, "what-"

"I'm so sorry!" Midoriya said, jerking his hand back. He spoke so fast Iida almost couldn't follow. "I'm so sorry, Iida, I don't know what I was thinking, I didn't mean - that's kind of weird isn't it-"

"Midoriya!" Iida said again. "I…"

Midoriya shut his mouth, waiting for Iida's response. Iida swallowed. His friend was pale, eyes wide in fear; it was as if he'd been caught doing something inappropriate. As if his hand had moved on its own.

As if he couldn't hide his feelings.

"Midoriya," Iida said again. He swallowed. "I don't know if I am wrong, but do you perhaps… like me?"

He regretting saying it in such an immature way, but at least it got the point across. Midoriya's mouth fell open, and he blushed. "I - I - Iida, I'm sorry-"

"If you did, I would be very happy," Iida went on. "Happy beyond words. I like you too. I like you a lot." It was easier to say, knowing Uraraka was right after all. Iida was just surprised that it had been Midoriya, and not himself, who had slipped up in the end.

"Iida!" Midoriya slid off the bed to sit on the floor beside him and leaned forward towards him; he buried his face in Iida's shoulder, hiding it. When he spoke, his voice was muffled. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to let you know in such a weird way. I just really wanted to touch your hair - it looked soft."

Iida began to laugh. Midoriya raised his head, his cheeks still pink. "What?"

"I just," Iida said, pausing to catch his breath, "I can't believe…"

He found Midoriya's hand and took it, gently, in his own. Midoriya's skin was a little dry, and Iida could feel the lumpiness of it - the strange shapes of his knuckles, the slightly raised pinkish scars that marked his fingers. Iida met Midoriya's eyes to make sure the touch was okay, and found a look that seemed to be a lot of things at once - awe, affection, shock, happiness.

"I've wanted to hold your hand for so long," Iida said at last.

Midoriya laced their fingers together and buried his face in Iida's shoulder again, blushing up to his eartips.

It was strange, Iida thought. Strange that Midoriya, who he'd thought of all this time as being far above him, would be so similar to himself that their feelings were near-identical.

"Do you want," Iida began, "with me…" He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Midoriya, will you be my boyfriend?"

"Yes," Midoriya said, still hiding his expression; but his face was pressed against Iida's bare arm, and Iida could actually feel the motion his face made as he smiled. "Yes, I'd like that a lot."