[[hey, u there?]]

[[anyway, i'm meeting Momo soon for food b4 we come over]]

[[i'll let u know bout the dress sitch then, but r u ready for the KILL? :D]]

[[see ya soon!]]

Ochako's staccato texts broke Izuku out of his half-asleep trance. Getting breakfast had been a nightmare involving three of Kacchan's goons and more bags of manure fertilizer than he cared to think about, and even after his three hot showers he'd needed to spend thirty minutes stretching muscles that hadn't signed up for this.

[[Thanks again! Stay safe!]]

He really was lucky to have a friend like Ochako. Freshman Orientation had been so scary, the people so loud and new and intimidating in how interesting they seemed, and there he'd been, boring and mediocre and singled out by Kacchan's jeering disdain. But Ochako had thrown an arm out to catch him as he tripped over a bundle of wires by the water coolers, and they had been best friends ever since. A small smile touched his lips, remembering nights spent studying on the heavily patched engineering couch after the older pre-meds kicked him out of the science building, and how she'd shoulder-check him whenever he'd start babbling, caught in one of his thought spirals.

"Should I grab some tea, do you think?" Shouto was puttering about the room, tidying up after Izuku had reminded him they were hosting the study group. "What do girls like? Sugar? Should I get some cookies, or maybe they prefer salty things?"

Like Izuku before he'd been adopted by Ochako, Shouto hadn't spent much time with girls - with people - given his father's ruthless parenting. Apparently friends were a time sink in his eyes, a fact that made Izuku grit his teeth and clench his fists when he thought about it for too long. But Ochako had helped there too, standing up beside him that blistering July day when Izuku couldn't take the way Mr. Todoroki spoke to Shouto any longer.

That was also the day Izuku learned Ochako threw a mean right hook.

"I think they've just eaten, so don't worry about that," he said, lifting his feet so Shouto could shove the vacuum under his desk. "You uh, you don't need to clean this much, they're not expecting a sterile environment."

"But father always said that in order to show basic respect to women – or, well, anyone I guess, father is a bit old fashioned – you must make yourself and your space presentable. It's only polite!" he added at Izuku's steadily rising eyebrow. "We're the hosts, it's our duty to —"

"Calm down, we're college students, this isn't a board meeting, relax," Izuku said, shifting in his chair nonetheless because something about what Shouto said dug at him. Did Ochako think he was slovenly in any way? Had he been being rude without even knowing it for years by inviting her into his messy room or hanging out with her in sweatpants and old tee shirts or—

He shook his head to interrupt this train of thought before he tangled himself in another incapacitating spiral. Ochako still talked to him, so things must be okay enough to get by, and besides, he had a murder to prepare for.

A quick glance around the room confirmed everything was in its place. There was the water glass with the tiny holes in the bottom that he'd offer Momo if Ochako couldn't lure her into the hall a normal way, so it'd spill into her lap and prompt her to head to the bathroom for some paper towels. She wouldn't know that the exits in that hall had been blocked, and that she'd be walking into a dead end.

It was foolproof.

[[looks like ur in the clear!]]

[[she's wearing jeans and a belt and a button down blouse]]

[[the top buttons are open btw and her boobs look phenom, hope ur roomie's ready to be annihilated]]

[[Thanks for the update, see you soon!]]

"Is everything all right? Are they going to be delayed? I could use the time to dust, I can't believe we haven't dusted since the beginning of the semester—"

"They're on time, it's all gonna be fine, and you're going to be a great host," Izuku said, using his patented Client Voice in the hopes it would soothe his roommate as well as it did his elderly patients at his part-time job.

It at least seemed to make him turn to muttering under his breath instead of building himself into a lather, so there was that.

Not long after came Ochako's signature rhythmic knock on the door. "It's us!"

Izuku ushered them in and Ochako made introductions while Momo surveyed the room with eyes that seemed to drink everything in and catalogue it at the same time. Shouto looked uncharacteristically out of his element, eyes a little wide when Momo turned the full force of her appraising gaze on him. She stared at him for a long moment, long enough to toe the line between normal and uncomfortable, and then smiled as if she had seen everything she wanted. The smile only appeared to poleaxe him further, and Shouto practically fell over himself pouring them all some water from the Brita using the untampered cups Izuku had set aside for this purpose.

The study session part of the ruse went surprisingly well. Momo had a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue, but she also had an undeniable warmth that made conversation easy. Shouto managed to get a handle on his strange stuttering long enough to engage in a very technical-sounding conversation with her about some business decision that had him looking at her with what appeared to be respectful awe by the end.

After an hour of this - in which Momo's increasing proximity to Shouto seemed to correlate with a direct inverse correlation to his ability to form sentences - Izuku signaled to Ochako that it was time to try Phase Two. She dipped her head slightly, then said, "Mind if we take a little break? I have some girl issues I need to talk to Momo about."

Momo blinked but acquiesced, and put a hand on Shouto's shoulder while she told him she'd finish her story about her chemistry startup's latest acquisition when she got back. He croaked something that might have been assent and watched her leave with an almost helpless expression.

Once the door closed behind them, Shouto turned to Izuku with a wild light in his eyes. "I think there's something wrong with me. I could not organize my thoughts when Momo spoke, and my eyes were so rudely drawn to her chest. Does this mean I'm a bad person? Am I broken, what's — "

"Sorry, can we talk about this later?" Izuku interrupted, getting to his feet and peeking out the door while sliding the plastic knife with Momo's name on it up his sleeve.

"I, sure, but this is really, really pressing — "

"I'll be right back!" And with that, Izuku slid out the door and down the hall toward the blocked doors by the girls' room. He could hear their voices up ahead, discussing something about Shouto, but he didn't pay it any mind because Momo's back was to him and now was his chance.

"Well isn't this fucking peachy, my prey catches itself." Kacchan strolled out of one of the rooms Izuku had passed on his way down the hall, Crocs squeaking on the tile floor and tearaway pants hanging low on his hips. "Thought you were clever with that door block, huh? Thought my boys wouldn't see you and report back to me? I guess I should be grateful that you wrapped yourself up like a sad little present." He took a menacing step forward. "You're done, dipstick."

Izuku's mind raced. He had effectively boxed himself in, the only exit barricaded by his own hands and the hall ahead too narrow for him to avoid Kacchan's reach. Guess he'd have to fight, or chance trying to dodge that first swipe and hope he could outrun Kacchan.

"Hey, Bakugou. Thought I saw you tutoring Kirishima the other day, care to compare notes? He's coming to me for calc help and it'd be mighty fine to know his learning style." Ochako had wandered over while Izuku had been strategizing, walking nonchalantly past him on her way towards Kacchan. She flicked a small OK gesture at him and tossed her head back at Momo, who was still looking very confused.

Not sure if he'd make it out of this alive, Izuku made the split-second decision to put all of his trust in Ochako and took the two large steps it took to bring him close enough to Momo to poke her with the knife.

"Oh!" she said, as if she'd belatedly remembered the answer to a question after someone else had answered it. "The game! Well, my knife is in my room, I'll have to drop by tomorrow to give it to you. I had honestly forgotten about it, what with finals so soon."

"Oy, fuckwad, what do you think you're doing?" Kacchan's voice rang out behind them, and when Izuku looked back, he could hardly believe his eyes.

Ochako had Kacchan pinned to the ground in some kind of jiu jitsu hold, straddling him in a way that incapacitated his arms. She gave him a vicious smile and said, "Momma and Papa been teachin' me how to defend myself since I was knee high to a grasshopper." She looked up and saw Izuku gaping. "Get the hell back to your room! I can't hold him forever!"

Right. Escape. Not the weird way seeing her on top of Kacchan made his stomach clench. He leaped over the section of floor near the two of them in case Kacchan somehow managed to wriggle out and swipe at him, and settled in at his desk in his room to wait for Ochako. He heard Ochako say something that made Kacchan growl, and a short time later both girls entered the room.

"Whew! Been a while since I've had to restrain someone," Ochako said cheerfully, rolling her shoulders. "Sorry, Momo," she added, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder. "We really did wanna study with you, the knife deal just made it better for us to host it."

Momo shrugged, her eyes already back on Shouto. "It's fine, I wasn't really into it anyway. Could we do a little more studying tonight? I was in the middle of a story before…"

Izuku nodded, still mostly thinking about the fact that Kacchan had shown up again and that Ochako had needed to save him again. He settled back on the floor with his physiology textbook, eyes looking beyond the page as he considered how he could make it up to her.

/

The answer came to him in a dream.

Or, well, kind of. He'd been dreaming he was talking to Toshinori, who instead of leaning in and making Izuku his apprentice like he usually did in these dreams, looked out the window and said, "Son, if you ever wish to know a friend, make them pancakes."

Izuku woke up and immediately texted Ochako.

[[Thanks again for saving me yesterday! To repay you, can I make you breakfast tomorrow? No one uses the kitchens around finals time, and I can set up a distraction to lure away Kacchan's friends.]]

Her reply was almost instantaneous.

[[HELL YEAH]]

[[i love pancakes! ^o^]]

[[…with REAL maple syrup? 0:) ]]

[[i'll show you the real benefits of my degree when i make us the biggest pancake house the world has ever known!]]

Smiling, Izuku grabbed one of the granola bars she'd dropped off the other day and got back to studying, not particularly keen on risking Kacchan's ire before noon.

Morning slid into afternoon, and Izuku was getting hungry enough to want to venture out when there was a knock on the door.

"Coming," he said, remembering with a rush of adrenaline that Momo had said she'd stop by with the knife today.

It was indeed her, smile polite as she scanned the room behind him, probably looking for Shouto, who'd gone to the library before Izuku had woken up. "Here you go, my knife as promised. Good luck for the rest of the game, and would you please pass this on to Shouto for me?" She held out a small, folded piece of paper along with the knife. "For his eyes only," she added, the warning clear in her tone, and then headed back down the hallway.

Dutiful roommate that he was, Izuku dropped the note onto Shouto's desk before attending to the knife. There was no use for any dramatic pause or drum roll moment, so he flipped it over and —

But that couldn't be right.

Ochako Uraraka's name stared back at him in red sharpie like the punchline of the world's worst joke, and no, no, he couldn't do this, he couldn't betray his best friend.

Or could he?

The analytical wheels that never stopped turning began to spit out all the possible ways he could very well stab her in the back. But then his moral compass joined the fray, telling him of course he couldn't do this, they were friends, wasn't that more important than a game? The room was spinning, so he sank into his desk chair and stared at his desktop. Toshinori's smiling face on his background was no solace to him now.

Logically, this was an unavoidable possibility and had been since the beginning. They had both known this might happen sooner or later, and had agreed to help each other regardless out of their mutual desire to see the other do well. What would happen at this point was never discussed, and Izuku couldn't shake the feeling that he was being disloyal to her for not letting her know.

What would a good friend do? Should he let her win? No, that wouldn't be chivalrous; that'd be assuming she was incapable of winning on her own, a thought that almost brought him out of his spiraling thoughts with its sheer absurdity. Should he just tell her? No - that'd imply she needed to know ahead of time, and they both knew she could win just as easily as he could.

His head made a gentle thump as it landed on his desk. The best way to be a good friend was to treat her like any other participant, because anything less would be insulting. They had known this could happen, and now it was up to him to see things through. It looked like his breakfast plans now had the dual purpose of thanking her and removing her from the game. But should he get her before they ate to get it over with, or wait until she'd enjoyed her food and then stab her in the back?

Groaning, Izuku slid onto the floor. Shouto walked in not a minute later, glancing at him with a blank look before stepping over him to reach his desk. It certainly wasn't the first time Izuku had had existential crises on the floor.

"Hey, Shouto, would you do me a favor?" he asked, rolling his head in his roommate's general direction.

"Mm?" Shouto said, unpacking his backpack and getting his laptop set up on his desk.

"I'm going to use one of the kitchens in the common area on our floor tomorrow to make brunch for Ochako," he said, finally sitting up. "I know Kacchan's lackeys will looking for me, so would you mind going into the hallway and pretending to tell someone on the phone that you're meeting me for lunch at the ramen place on the other side of campus tomorrow? It'll give me a little window of peace, I hope."

Shouto nodded as he pulled out his chair and flopped into it. "Sure, I can do that. I'm not certain how effective it will be, though – didn't Katsuki say he had eyes on you at all times?"

"Yeah, but I'll handle that part," Izuku said, wincing as he stood up. "Thanks for your help."

"Anytime." Shouto paused for moment, uncertainty looking alien on his face. "Hey, Izuku? About last night - have you ever - what's it called. When thinking about someone activates your fight or flight response, except logically there's nothing to fight or fly from, so it's just pure adrenaline?"

Izuku met his roommate's pleading gaze with a blank look. "Adrenaline..? Oh! You mean like having a crush on someone?"

Shouto nodded vigorously. "Yes, a crush! That's what they call it. No wonder; it crushes the breath from your lungs, the focus from your brain — "

"Wait, who is this about?"

"Momo!" Shouto said, a helpless kind of anguish in his voice that Izuku had never heard before. "She gave me her number last night on a piece of paper with a small smiling face after it, and she's been talking to me all day, and she's just." He looked at the wall, eyes distant. "She's amazing. Clever, witty, wry, how had I not noticed her in my economics class last semester?" He folded over in his chair, hands in his hair, tugging at the roots. "I can't focus, I can't sleep, and all because of one person I just met?"

A sympathetic smile touched Izuku's lips. "Isn't that a good thing? It seems like she's into you, too."

Shouto's eyes widened. "What are you – where is your sense of propriety? There are proper ways to go about this, official channels that must be taken. I wonder if I should contact her father first or wait to get more tangible proof she is also, as you say, into me."

This startled a laugh from Izuku. "This isn't the 1800s, you don't have to do things like that if you like her. Just talk to her."

"But have you ever liked someone?" Shouto pressed, leaning in. "Have you, too, dealt with this wasting madness?"

Izuku shrugged. "Well, not really, but — "

"Then your words have no purchase here!" Shouto cried, bringing his head down on his desk with a thud. "Carry on, I'll be managing this sickness on my own somehow."

Izuku wanted to say something comforting, but Shouto was right about one thing: he really didn't have any experience to draw upon beyond cheesy 80s movies, so he just patted him on the shoulder. "I'm always here to listen if you want to run any of your courtship plans by me."

A groan was his only response.

Izuku left him alone to take stock of his meager pantry for tomorrow's cooking. An unopened box of Bisquick, sent by his mother, a half-full bottle of store brand fake maple syrup, and then a few eggs left in the carton next to Shouto's weekly ration of Soylent.

Okay, good. He had a menu. The guilt boiled up again, thick and tepid, turning his stomach to knots at the thought of what he was going to do to her tomorrow. He closed the mini fridge and sighed, the ghost of a proverb rising in his mind.

All's fair in love and war.

/

The next morning, Izuku loudly told Shouto he was meeting friends for a project meeting at a café across campus. He heard the telltale creak of doors being opened and walked out of the front door like he didn't have a care in the world.

The moment he was through, though, he ducked into the bushes that bordered the walkway and watched Kacchan's admirers race towards the path that led to campus. Just to be safe, he looped around to the back of the building and climbed to the second floor before walking through the hall to the stairwell; he avoided Kacchan's floor that way. His final stop was his room to retrieve the ingredients and the knife, which he grabbed before he had time to feel too badly about it.

Ochako met him in the common room kitchen, all sunny smiles and enthusiasm while the knife with her name on it collected sweat up his sleeve. "So, whatcha cookin'?" she asked, leaning on her elbows over the small breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the seating area.

"Pancakes and eggs," Izuku said, hoisting the bag of ingredients onto the counter. "Hope you don't mind boxed mix."

Ochako began humming under her breath as she discovered the stools along the bar spun, turning to rich peals of laughter as she whirled around a couple times and made Izuku smile despite himself. "Don't mind at all, Momma and Papa used to make it for us back in the day."

While she continued to spin on her stool, eventually crouching down next to it to see if she could make it spin faster – engineers, right? – Izuku readied his pots, pans, and bowls. He'd deliberated long and hard last night about when he'd kill Ochako, and had settled on after they had both eaten. No need to soil her dining experience with a best friend's betrayal.

"Got any fun plans this summer?" Ochako asked from the floor, fiddling with some screws on the underside of the stool with the small toolkit she took everywhere she went.

"Just some internship stuff at one of the nearby clinics. What about you?" Izuku replied, dropping a pat of butter into the frying pan and turning on the stove.

"Probably goin' home to help with the construction firm. My structural engineering class gave me all kinds of ideas for a project they got comin' up."

Izuku smiled as he mixed water into the dry mix, a familiar warmth filling him at her words. Ochako was such a hard worker, filling up her schedule with upper level engineering courses she'd battered her way into after demonstrating her skills to an incredulous professor who had thought she wasn't 'experienced' enough to take them. All that in addition to the strenuous GPA requirements she had to meet in order to keep the full-ride scholarship she'd earned, without which she wouldn't be able to stay. "That sounds great, you better send me pictures of all the cool things you build."

"You know it! But," she said, pausing to peek around the bar at him, "I'll miss you guys here, too."

Anticipatory regret slammed into him with enough force to make him almost drop the spatula. But he'd made his decision, and Ochako would understand. She'd probably do the same thing in his position, and he wouldn't hold it against her. Right?

The pan spat and crackled at him when he flicked a wet hand at it, so he grabbed the batter and poured in a few blobs.

He was just flipping them, lost in thought, when a voice in his ear said, "Looks good!" The skin of his neck pebbled in goosebumps at the feeling of breath so near, and he only had to turn his head a little to see Ochako smiling next to him.

"Oops," she said, reaching up to brush her thumb across his cheek, "got some batter on your face."

"Oh," Izuku said, trying to repress the shiver that threatened to shake his entire body. "Thanks." Except he could still feel where she'd touched him tingling on his face, and his stomach had begun a weird set of acrobatics whenever he met her eyes. Must be nerves.

"I'm starving," she continued, moving away to grab some plates. Izuku thought he'd be relieved about that, but instead found himself hyperaware of her presence in the room and marveled at how quickly his hunting instincts appeared to be kicking in.

Once the pancakes were finished, he added another pat of butter to the pan and whisked the bowl of eggs he'd cracked earlier, pouring them into the pan and stirring them to fluffy, custardy completion, adding just a bit of salt and pepper. It wasn't fancy, but it'd be filling and tasty, and that was all that really mattered.

Ochako helped him bring everything to the table in cheap Ikea bowls; the university stocked all the kitchens with the basics, but made sure most of it was dishwasher safe and not costly to replace in the hopes that people would clean up after themselves. If they didn't, at least it wouldn't set them back too much. Izuku filled a couple scratched glasses with water and brought them over, too.

They sat down across from each other at a battered wooden table that bore graffiti from before he'd been born, and ate. Izuku's eyes kept wandering over to her face, lingering on her mouth and eyes and the gentle roundness of her cheeks. He'd never noticed that she had little freckles on the bridge of her nose.

She interrupted his space-out by jumping at a buzz from her phone. Her face split into a huge grin when she checked it, mirth spilling out of her eyes as she shoved it into his face. "Look at this cat."

"Okay, okay, just don't let your food get cold," he replied, dutifully watching a looping gif of a very round cat try, and fail, to fit its entire body into a small box. "Wow, that is a large cat."

"I know, right!" she said in a voice thick with the tone reserved for Very Cute Things.

They ate in silence for a time, once Ochako put her phone back and poured so much maple syrup onto her plate that Izuku had to ask if she'd like some pancakes to accompany it. She stuck out her tongue, plopped a few pancakes into the sea of syrup on her plate, and began to eat while Izuku took his time buttering each of his pancakes before drizzling a chaste amount of maple syrup on top.

Then, as Izuku began to take stock of the knife up his sleeve and how far he'd have to reach to get her, Ochako said, "Did I ever tell you about the time I almost died?"

He was so startled that he just shook his head.

She nodded, looking back down at her plate while she pushed around a few soggy pancake ends. "I was only a baby. Born with a rare heart defect that was gonna kill me unless I got surgery. Problem was, not many doctors where I grew up could do it. Too scared, they said, too scared I was gonna die on the table, and they didn't want that on their conscience. But then," her gaze turned faraway, and Izuku had to resist the strange urge to grab her hand, "then Momma said my guardian angel pulled a couple strings, because that weekend, Toshinori was visiting my hospital. A nurse musta whispered something in his ear, because he came right up to my parents in the ICU and offered to do the surgery himself." She looked up again, a bleak smile on her face. "So here I am. I thought about writing him letters to thank him, but letters just don't seem like enough, you know? Letters, for my life."

Izuku's throat was tight. "So that's why you want to win."

Another nod.

The knife up his sleeve burned burned burned. There was no way - after something like this -

"I'm not telling you for pity, neither," Ochako said, squinting at him with those clear brown eyes. "I just figured you should know, since you've told me all about what Toshinori means to you. Fair's fair."

"Right," he said, voice hoarse. His half-eaten eggs made him nauseous to look at, so he just took a big sip of water instead. "I'm really glad you're here." Izuku wasn't sure where the words came from, only that he needed to say them.

Something like relief flickered through her eyes as she said, "That makes two of us."

Her phone buzzed again, and this time she cursed when she read the message. "Sorry, I gotta run - forgot I had a tutoring session this morning. Thanks again for brunch!" She gathered up her things and started heading for the door, but whirled around at the last second. "Oh, wait, let me help you clean up some."

Izuku was already taking their plates to the kitchen. "Don't worry about it, it won't take me long. Go spread your knowledge."

She threw him a grateful look and bounded out the door. "Thanks, you're the best!"

The silence after she left nearly undid him. To think, he could have never known her - never known that straightforward kindness or that rich laugh, or experienced what it felt like to belong. Izuku swallowed the lump in his throat and finished cleaning up, thoughts wandering to the man Toshinori had chosen not to save and wondering why he'd been so eager not to give up on one life over the other. Shaking his head, he headed back towards his room with the vague idea of heading to the roof to study.

But when he was halfway down the hall, he began to hear groans and what sounded like drawers slamming coming from his room. A tentative knock ended in a yelp as Shouto yanked the door open, saw Izuku standing there, and hauled him into the room with a steel grip.

"You okay?" Izuku asked, noting his roommate's wild eyes, uneven breath, and the complete disorder of their room. Clothes were scattered across every available surface, and some accessories, too: watches, belts, cufflinks, of all things. Izuku weighed the possibility that Shouto had asked Bakugou for a small explosive device.

The sound that came out of Shouto was probably supposed to be a laugh, but it sounded more like a growl. "Okay? Okay? I haven't been okay since Momo walked into this room two days ago, and now she's invited me to a 'kegger' this evening, and I have nothing to wear, and I have to, I have to impress her."

Izuku considered some sort of bracing physical contact, like a friendly pat on the shoulder or a chest bump or something, but the gleam in Shouto's eyes implied that that would not end well. So he instead treated the situation like he would one of his elderly patients in pain, and made his way slowly to his bed to take a seat and seem less threatening. "Just wear a band tee shirt and some ripped jeans, you'll fit right in."

"'Fit in?'" Shouto snarled, looking over his shoulder from a low drawer he had upended and begun to paw through. "I have to impress her, not blend in with the rabble. Do you think a button down is too formal for such an occasion?"

Man, Shouto had it bad. "How about a fitted white button down and those pants you said your father had sent from Italy? And maybe one of your watches, one you wouldn't mind if it got wet or stepped on or covered in strange substances."

Having a specific suggestion seemed to mollify Shouto, and he began to pack away the clothing that was strewn across the floor and over most surfaces. "By the way, you're coming with me," he added, as if he hadn't just been acting like a rabid animal.

"Do you not remember the whole murder game? Being in an unfamiliar place with people who may or may not be trying to kill me doesn't seem like the best idea." Izuku paused. "Also, I've never been to a party in my whole life."

Shouto shrugged. "They also wouldn't expect you to be out. I'd wager you'd be safer there, where you're least expected, than here, where you'll have eyes on you. And you'll be able to be my, what was it called." He frowned at a pile of shirts. "Birdboy? Chicken wing? Man bird?"

"Wingman?"

"That's the one!" he cried. "See, it'll be perfect."

"Yeah, but how am I going to get out of the dorm unseen? Kacchan's friends will see me and either corner me or follow me to the party. I don't think I should go," Izuku said, frowning. He wanted to support Shouto, but not at the expense of missing his chance to win the game.

"Please, I don't know what I'm doing, I need you there to make sure I don't make a complete and utter fool of myself." Desperate eyes met his as Shouto turned and knelt before Izuku. "Please. I will beg if I must."

The image of Shouto with those haunted eyes, prostrate before him, brought back too many memories of the first months he'd known him freshman year, back when Todoroki senior held much more sway over his life. "Okay, look, I'll go. Just, never beg for anything ever again, okay?"

Vigorous nodding from his roommate assured him that no, of course he'd never do that. Izuku rubbed his temples. Tonight was going to be trouble.

"How about you invite Ochako?" Shouto said, taking an expensive-looking belt off of their stand lamp. "She'd probably have a wonderful time."

Izuku opened his mouth to disagree when it occurred to him this would be the opportune moment to use the knife he'd chickened out on this morning. He was taken aback earlier by her story, but so long as he could be sure Kacchan or his friends weren't around, he wouldn't hesitate again. "All right, I'll see what she thinks."

Shouto looked pleased and went back to assembling his outfit for the night, leaving Izuku to dig around in his pockets until he located his phone.

[[Hey, sorry to bother you during a tutoring session. Whenever you get a chance, do you want to come to a party tonight with me and Shouto? Momo's going to be there, and it sounds like you might have fun, too. Let me know!]]

There. Now all he had to do was see whether Ochako actually wanted to go, and he could plan his next move. He dragged out the first textbook he felt when he reached a hand under his bed, and pulled it open to one of his color-coded tabs that meant 'review section.'

So passed the rest of the afternoon. A few times, footsteps could be heard slowing outside of their door, stopping for a beat like the person was listening before they carried on. After the second time, Izuku said, "So, what's the plan to get me out of here without being noticed?"

"Oh, that?" Shouto looked up from his laptop, a juice pouch half-forgotten in one hand. "Don't worry about it, I called in a favor."

"Since when do people owe you favors?" Izuku said, eyes narrowed.

Shouto allowed himself a small, self-satisfied smile before looking back at his screen. "Networking, dear Izuku. Never underestimate the power of networking."

Ochako's reply came shortly after.

[[o yea, that sounds gr8!]]

[[i'll bring a lil somethin for us to pregame with before we head over]]

[[meetin at ur place, right?]]

[[Yes! How about around 9?]]

[[works for me! (sunglasses emoji)]]

By the time Ochako appeared, dressed in a few layers of tank tops and leggings with an artfully patched canvas jacket slung over one shoulder, Izuku was more than ready to get out of the room. Shouto had been fretting for the past hour over his appearance, asking Izuku what he thought about possible conversation topics and shoving his cologne'd wrist under his nose to ask whether it smelled all right.

"Y'all ready for some fun tonight?" she said cheerfully once she plopped down next to Izuku on his bed. "I brought a special treat that I think you're gonna like."

"Oh? And what might that be?" Shouto said with polite interest, gazing at himself in the mirror as he kept moving one strand of his bangs a few centimeters left and then right again.

She reached into one of the pockets in her jacket and brought out a small mason jar, marked only with what looked like a date in black sharpie on masking tape. "I snuck some of Papa's moonshine last time I was home," she said confidentially. "Figured it might come in handy for nights like this."

"Moonshine? Isn't that a little strong?" Izuku asked, the sum of his experience with alcohol being the little wipes used to clean skin before drawing blood.

"I've heard it is quite strong," Shouto agreed. "But it can't be much worse than a glass of wine or two. All right Ochako, lead the way."

Smiling, she took out two small shot glasses and filled them to the brim. "Who wants to go first? I could only bring two glasses, so we'll have to refill."

Shouto reached over and took one from her, but Izuku shook his head. "Ladies first?"

With a shrug, Ochako clinked glasses with Shouto and took the whole mouthful in one gulp. Izuku tracked the liquid down her throat, never noticing before how long her neck was, nor how strangely enticing her collarbone as it peeked out of her tank tops. He resisted the urge to trace a finger along it.

"All right Izuku, you're up!" She refilled her shot glass and handed it to him, right as Shouto began coughing convulsively. "Don't worry about him," she added. "Just take it down nice and fast."

Doing his best to ignore Shouto's wheezing, Izuku did as she suggested. He threw it behind his tongue as he'd seen her do, noticing for a split second that it didn't taste very pleasant at all, and then his throat was on fire. This must be what it's like to swallow hydrochloric acid, he thought as he joined his roommate's coughing fit.

"Why do people do this?" Shouto gasped a minute later, having found an unopened juice pouch and stabbed the straw in like it was an Epipen.

"Dunno, but let's do one more! I don't trust those guys to have anything hygienic to drink outta," Ochako said, already passing Shouto another shot glass.

Izuku met Shouto's eyes over the rim of the glass Ochako handed him, and shrugged. They both did their shot, and this time Izuku grabbed the juice pouch out of Shouto's hands to take a drawn-out sip after he was done. It didn't occur to him until Ochako took his glass and poured some for herself that their lips had indirectly touched.

He promptly filed that under 'information unnecessary to survival.'

"All right," Izuku said, clearing his throat a few times to get rid of the residual hoarseness. "What's the deal with getting out?"

Shouto smiled that enigmatic smile and took his phone out to send a quick text. Then he folded his hands in his lap and waited.

Ochako glanced at Izuku, who shook his head. A few minutes passed, and then a few more, and Izuku was about to ask Shouto what was going on when the floor began to rumble with what felt like a drumbeat, or something similar. It wasn't loud, not at first, but as it grew in volume Izuku was able to pick out a pattern and -

Why on earth were people stomping the beat to Queen's We Will Rock You?

"Ah, they've arrived," Shouto said, as if he heard the doorbell for a dinner party, not the foundations of the building quaking.

"Who's arrived?" Izuku and Ochako said at the same time.

Shouto's eyes glittered as he replied, "The distraction, of course."