Later, if Shouto was ever asked about the key moment which triggered the events that flipped his humdrum, ritualistic, ennui-filled life upside down, he would tell them all the same thing.

It all started with The Cat.


"Frost! To your right!"

Frost turned his head to see the third villain attempting to run away. He shot his hand out, enveloping the villain in ice.

"Well, that was a bit overkill, Frost. But can't say it didn't get the job done." A dry voice said, its owner lightly jogging to where Shouto stood. The bunny ears of the other hero's mask was flopping with every step he took and Shouto, for some reason, couldn't tear his eyes off of them, entranced despite himself.

"But then," The other man said, grin evident despite silver mask covering the lower half of his face, "You never did do things halfway, Frost."


Shouto spent the first night at his new apartment enveloped in a battle for dominance.

Don't blink.

Shouto didn't know why and when the staring contest with some mangy stray had become so pivotal to his existence…..but, he thought grimly as he used his quirk to ease the burning in his eyes, he knew that this challenge was one he couldn't afford to lose. Not if he wanted to be able to use his balcony anytime in the foreseeable future.

This was a battle for territory, and Shouto, who had never had anything or any place he was proud to call his own, was not in the correct mindframe to be a gracious loser.

He resisted the urge to hiss at his foe, knowing that that would be a step too far, even for this instinct-driven fiasco.

He was going to win.

There was no other option.

"Um…."

Shouto could feel the hair at the back of his neck rise with deja-vu at the timid voice. He resisted the urge to turn his head and look at the (second) intruder, unwilling to move from his position. He'll get the hint and go away, he hoped.

"S-Shouto, I - um - "

Shouto resisted the urge to huff; he wasn't going away.

The stray's eerie yellow eyes peered at him, willing him to back down, to pay attention to the other human.

Well, cat, Shouto thought derisively, you have another thing coming if you think you'll win so easily.

Without moving his head, Shouto answered drolly, as if he wasn't standing in the cold evening air in nothing but his thread-bare pajamas and prescription glasses, having a staring contest with a cat the size of two full-sized adult cats, "Yes, Midoriya? You need something?"

Shouto waited for the ridicule, the jeers, the laughter. For surely from his position on the ground floor, directly below Shouto's balcony, he must be getting front row seats to the show Shouto was involuntarily putting on. Shouto wouldn't have even blamed him. Boys like Midoriya, the pretty, muscular types with cute girls waiting for them in their apartments, had no idea what Shouto's life had been like. They had no frame of reference to understand Shouto's everyday life, for boys like Midoriya, so free with their emotions and name, lacked the essential experiences that made up the tapestry of boys like Shouto's lives, which taught them to be cautious first, to narrow their eyes and look for hidden motives; to eye and question, rather than smile and smooth.

Boys like Shouto didn't become friends with boys like Midoriya. Their experiences were too different for that to occur. There was no way to translate between their worlds, to reach a place of shared understanding, which, Shouto was given to understand, was essential for anything meaningful.

Shouto pursed his lips, ready for Midoriya's incoming words that would surely effectively slice through any potential for an amiable future.

"I didn't know you wore glasses!" A voice with barely restrained enthusiasm said, with every word vibrating with concentrated fervor.

Shouto, in his surprise, blinked.

The cat, who had till then been silently judging the whole scene, yawned, fangs flashing triumphantly at Shouto, who reared back in alarm; he was not prepared to lose his head in addition to his balcony. The cat stretched, seemingly content with her victory of the day, and in a movement that sent Shouto gasping, leapt lightly from the balcony of the first floor apartment to the ground floor.

Forgetting himself, Shouto ran to the edge of the balcony only to see the cursed feline land nimbly on her feet.

He gaped.

God, I wish I could do that. Shouto cursed himself for the impulsive longing, it wouldn't do to admire the enemy, especially not one who he had lost face to.

But even his mental admonishment couldn't keep his eyes from missing the way the cat stalked up to Midoriya, like a queen with her subjects, slowly brushing her head against the boy's pants. She circled around him, still rubbing her face into the fabric of his pants, and after she was satisfied, walked away.

Shouto resisted the urge to point at the boy (who had been caught red-handed, guilty of collusion with The Enemy!) accusingly, knowing that sometimes the thoughts in his head didn't translate well to those strangers to it. But the accusation was felt, burning his heart and clouding his mind.

He glared hotly at Midoriya, who was still staring sopily at the cat as she walked away.

Figures.

Midoriya turned back, a small smile still on his face, only for it to dim at the expression that must be on Shouto's face.

Good. Be intimidated. Someone should be.

He glared harder.

However, Midoriya, to his credit, bounced back, voice gaining the enthusiasm Shouto was afraid was becoming all too familiar to him, and said "I see you met Purr-Might!"

Shouto, not for the first time in the evening, felt defeated, the unexpected chain of events shattering even his famed resolve. He wondered, suddenly tired beyond repair, if the eccentricity of the recent events was because of his rotten karma, or if it followed Midoriya like a magnet.

"Purr-Might?" He said blankly, not even caring about the answer, just…..tired.

Midoriya bounced in his place, the bags in his hands jingling with the movement, "Yeah! The cat? She's like our building's mascot. Isn't she a sweetheart?" He concluded with fondness lacing his last word, making it somehow sweeter and heavier at the same time.

Fuck that.

Shouto felt scandalized at the thought that that beast, who could probably single-handedly defeat the League of Villains themselves, could be considered by anyone to be anything other than a satanic murder machine. He had seen the way she had eyed him when flashing her demonic fangs at him.

Fuck that.

Shouto stared at Midoriya for want of anything to say. Midoriya seemed to sense his thoughts, weakly smiling up at Shouto, as he said, "Anyway! It was probably fate that I met you here, I was actually going to come by and ask you if you would like to come by and have a dinner type thing at my apartment? It will just be me and a few close friends, but it's alright if you are busy or whatever, I'm sure a guy like you has a lot of things to do. But-"

Shouto, unable to compute the sudden barrage of words that were tripping out of Midoriya's mouth and too tired to make the effort to further their interaction, said in a clipped tone that stopped Midoriya dead in the middle of another confusing sentence, "Midoriya."

Midoriya's eyes widened comically, and Shouto wondered if he was always this expressive or if Shouto was just extra-sensitive to him.

(Probably the former, considering that "sensitive" and Shouto didn't exactly co-exist harmoniously, not if his annual HR reports were any indication.)

But ruminations about his emotional intelligence aside, Shouto had a green-eyed boy to get rid of. Shouto looked down at the hopeful face and said, "I'm sorry. But I am afraid I must decline, I find that I have a headache tonight and will not be good company. Please accept my apologies."

Shouto blinked as he stared at the sunken face, dark with disappointment; he had seen sunsets that left more light behind.

"Oh! I'm sorry for keeping you! I'm sure you must be tired after everything. Please, accept my apologies, and I hope you feel better." Midoriya said, clearly making a concerted effort to inject his regular cheer back into his voice. But even Shouto, for all his obliviousness to human emotion, could feel his disappointment like a physical wound.

He felt bewildered, like he had entered a parallel dimension. He had never seen anyone disappointed for being deprived of his company. Shouto had thought that Midoriya was being kind or trying to further his agenda by inviting Shouto to dinner, but the disappointment - still evident on the boy's face - felt all too real.

Shouto, for reasons unknown, felt a pang in his chest as he watched the other boy smile, noticeably lackluster compared to his usual expression of happiness, and enter the building, leaving behind a noticeably empty space in Shouto's vision.

And if Shouto stared for longer than needed at the spot where Midoriya had stood, lost in thought…. well, that was between him and the pavement.