Class was boring as usual. Nothing much happened outside of the usual babble and notes. At least Shoto didn't have work today. There's a small plus in his day. His pencil taps against the wood grain of his seat as he focuses on the drone of the teacher. Maybe a movie would be good tonight.

Shoto had been thinking he would just sleep, but something fun would be nice for a change. Maybe get caught up on some Netflix show. Stranger Things or something along the lines. Maybe watch an old favorite. One can never watch Tropic Thunder too many times. Or Little Mermaid...

Everyone has their favorites.

His hands run over his scar softly. Most people don't realize that the burn over his face isn't an abnormality caused by his quirk. His mother hated his father... enough that she thought to throw scalding water on his face and strangle him. Shoto tried not to think of that so much. When he did... things would catch fire.

His father... the man who drove his mother to that... the thoughts alone was singing scorch marks on Shoto's desk. Shit! He calmed himself and waved a hand over the smoke. He looked around the room watching for if anyone had noticed. Nobody gives him much mind thankfully. The last thing he wants is for everyone to stare at him for lighting the desk on fire.

Class ended as always with a quick dismissal and impatient shoving from all the other students. Maybe they were going to jobs, maybe to have fun, or maybe just to sleep. Doesn't matter to him. They aren't of any value in his life. Shoto just wants to go home. He slips on a thin jacket and straps on his bag. Shoto glances at his wallet as his stomach rumbles. Well, he should have enough for something good. Or at least, decent.

Decent would be good.

Soba? Yeah, cold soba and a soda. He knew a few places that were pretty cheap around here. It's amazing what being poor does for one's restaurant portfolio. In an unexpected way, Shoto found that he'd gone to more unique and off the beaten path places than he would have years ago. Before, the idea of eating in a place that he was certain was a front for a money laundry scheme would have been downright ludicrous. Nor would he have found that Indian dinner that was most definitely just the owner's house. Or that one burger joint that looked diseased, but made some of the best cheeseburgers Shoto had ever had. As a rich brat following his father's standards, he couldn't even look at those places. Couldn't think of it.

Soba… Mouthwatering soba. That was the mission. He entered one of his favorite hole-in-the-wall diners and took in the smells of freshly made food and patrons who need a working shower just as much as him. Shoto sits at the bar and waits patiently for his food to arrive.

It had been Ochaco's idea for all of them to go out for dinner that night. Something about treating themselves which Izuku was more than fine with. Ochaco was a wonderful girl who could manipulate gravity. She went into modeling for the sake of making a good living for her family. In a way, it was a shallow reason, but incredibly noble. With her quirk, she was beautiful on the runway and made dresses look fabulous even if she was a petite model. Petite models had to fight against certain standards and Ochaco was doing her best. Izuku and Tenya both had her reserved as a model for them. Sometimes they even have arguments of who gets to have her for their show.

They sat now in a nice little out of the way restaurant. It's a warm place full of character and rickety chairs. The kind of place that people love to reminisce about. That makes people happy. Izuku happily enjoyed his ramen, the house specialty, as they chatted away about the latest things. As well as how they personally would dress the cast of a show like Assassination Classroom. Or who they would play in their favorite shows if any of them could act.

"But, I think I would make a great princess Ren."

"Sure you could pull off the look, but Ren herself is so mean," Tenya said. "Personally, I think you'd be a great Leia."

"But, that gold bikini is so ugly!"

"No not that Leia. The other one."

"What other one is there?" Izuku gleamed as the two banter about. His drifts his sight everywhere around the restaurant surprised when he sees a familiar face. Small world. Izuku should make up for the coffee from the other day. It wasn't right not to pay back another man's generosity. He waved his hand and told the waiter that Shoto's drink was on him. That way they were even. He figured paying for the meal would likely seem a bit much for the other. They were mostly strangers.

When Shoto saw him at the coffee shop the next day Izuku will admit he hadn't expected anything. Or for even an acknowledgment. All the same, Shoto gave him that usual glance and usual sort-of-smile. "Hey. Thanks for the drink, but you didn't have to."

"I wanted to. Besides, now we're even."

"You're not one of those guys who needs to make up for every little thing, are you?"

"I-I don't think so. No." While Izuku tried to make a habit of repaying kindnesses he tried to do it when he was certain the person was up for that. People are strange and don't always want to be thanked. Which is fine and something Izuku learned along the way. Like not apologizing every five minutes.

Shoto took his money and returned the change. "All the same, thanks." A customer behind tripped and spilled all over the floor. "Crap. Tsuyu take over."

"Ribbit."

Shoto ran to the back and hurried out with a mop. Fervently he cleaned the spill while the customer demanded a refill. Izuku had noticed it back at the restaurant, but he noticed again just how shabby the state of Shoto's clothes was. While the uniform standard for the shop was fine his shoes seemed a little on the worn side. They were name brand from the looks of the label. Not the kind people let get worn out easily. Plus, those were clearly designer jeans that had been treated terribly. They could have been second hand, but Izuku was certain that they were at the point that Shoto would have owned them awhile.

Why wear expensive brands out like that? It made no sense. But, Izuku didn't pry.

The manager yelled at Shoto. The customer got angry and little violent and because he had been on cleanup it was all his fault. Ass! Like he could control another customer. He kicked a can as he turned the corner on the last street before his apartment. The small buzzing of his phone went off and he yelled into the receiver as he answered.

"Yeah? Whadda ya want?"

"Is that any way to talk to your father?" His blood froze and then it burned.

"Hi…" Shoto swallowed. "Father. What do I owe the call for?"

"I've arranged for a reinstatement at the University. Come sign the papers immediately." It's not a request. It's never that. Shoto didn't think his father knew how to ask for anything. "It's time to stop these childish games and be sensible." So Shoto can go into the family business and be his father's lapdog? No thanks. He'd pass on that.

His fingers brushing the end button when his father shouted. "Don't hang up on me. Be reasonable. Your future can still be salvaged before you waste years flittering about."

"I don't care. Make my brothers your precious heir or something."

"You're the only one of my children with any potential." Potential for what? Trade stocks and sit in board meetings? Living a life where Shoto is bored by everything? Where he never has to work for his job? Where everything is handed to him? That's not potential. That's just nepotism and sorrow. "This is for the best-"

He shuts off the call and powers down his phone. This was his life! Not his fathers! Shoto punched the trash can melting it a little with one hand and freezing it with the other. He calmed down and sighed at the sorry state of his clothes. He had liked that shirt too. This is why he needed more retardant clothing. Maybe a new pair of clothes. When Shoto had left home he'd taken only what he could fit into a large backpack. He had two pairs of shoes right now and both had become rather worn since he left home. From the text, his sister sent his room was untouched and she'd offered to sneak him some clothes.

Shoto's pride wouldn't allow it. He wasn't going to take anything from that man unless he had to. Never again if he could help it.

Izuku admittedly was worried about prying into the barista's life. Shoto could absolutely despise his prying. More importantly, Izuku had never wanted to be thought of as a nosy snoop. But today, Shoto seemed in even worse a mood than usual. Izuku wasn't sure what he could do… It's not like he knew much about him, but the way Shoto was so cold it was a little heartbreaking. Izuku didn't like to see people upset.

"Usual?" Shoto said without making eye contact.

"Uh… yeah." Izuku paid up and figured this was the only thing he could do. He gave a large comforting smile. "Um, Shoto… I don't know what's bothering you, but… I hope you cheer up soon."

The barista stopped a moment. Resumed. "Thanks." For maybe the first time Izuku thought the smile on Shoto's face was somewhat genuine for the briefest second. A thought crossed Izuku's head. It's less a thought more an image. A design. Something about Shoto genuinely inspires him often, but usually, the designs are awful. This time… This time, Izuku thinks he has something.

He runs out with the coffee towards the studio as fast as his feet will let him. This will look amazing. Shoto would look amazing. Though, would he think this was a bit much? Oh, he hoped the barista wouldn't think it too weird. Otherwise, Izuku might have to find a new coffee shop and he'd hate to have to do that. He liked his coffee shop and nothing ruined a good shop like offending the employees. Izuku remembered one place where he'd accidentally offended the barista and he was still afraid to go back inside.

But, maybe Shoto would be a good sport about it? Besides, this would look fabulous.

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