It was almost too quiet as Izuku picked his way across campus, hiding behind bushes and taking the least populated paths. His phone rattled against Ochako's knife in a rhythmic reminder about everything he was trying, and failing, to repress. It was like the more he tried not to think about her, the more he did, until it was all he could do to keep scanning for potential threats while his hands itched to touch her. God, no wonder Shouto was such a mess!

He reached the building with no problems, a small stone cottage with perfectly manicured bushes at the front of the main quad. There wasn't anyone Izuku recognized walking by, none of Kacchan's friends or admirers, so he strolled out of the large bushes framing the walkway like it was a perfectly normal thing to do, and entered the building.

The air conditioning raised goosebumps on his skin as he sat in the living room that had been converted to a waiting room, pretending to be early for an appointment. Once the receptionist walked out of the room to grab something from the printer, Izuku slipped past the desk into the warren of offices in the rest of the house. If Shouto's dad was still here, he'd be in the back in the Dean's office, not in any of the smaller offices in the converted building. Voices rumbled from behind the door at the end of the adjoining hallway, one a deep, unyielding bass that Izuku hadn't hoped to hear for a long time. But for Shouto, he was willing to do worse.

Izuku was only halfway down the carpeted hall when the door at the end opened and admitted Enji Todoroki. The man flicked a bored eye over his clothes and said, "So nice to know my son is still consorting with the rabble."

Well, a hallway was not the ideal place for this conversation, but at least it was easier than interrupting a meeting with the Dean. "I've come to let you know Shouto's feeling a little under the weather today and won't be able to see you. Try again another time."

Mr. Todoroki narrowed his eyes, the only sign of his distaste. "And what makes you think you have any say over what I do with my son?"

Izuku opened his mouth to say something he'd probably regret when yelling erupted towards the front of the house. Izuku turned when Mr. Todoroki's eyes shifted to something behind him, and confusion turned to wariness when Momo stormed through the frosted glass door at the other end of the hall.

"You need to leave. Now," she said grimly, what looked like clay or mud caked in her hair and the burn marks on her lab coat seeming fresh. "Unless you want to stick around for when Bakugou gets out of my latest science experiment."

A not-so-distant roar punctuated her words.

Izuku winced, then said, "But how did you know I'd be here?"

"I can't let you fight all my battles," said a voice behind Momo, and then Shouto was walking down the hall with fire in his eyes despite his otherwise sickly appearance. "Go, I'll take care of this."

"But-"

"Listen to your roommate, he's a big boy," said Momo, coming to stand next to Shouto. She looked Mr. Todoroki in the eyes as she took his son's hand in her own. A raised brow was the only response she got.

With a final glance at Shouto, Izuku turned into the nearest empty office and opened the window. As he swung himself through, he heard his roommate say, "Hello, Father."

/

It was just a matter of cutting through the social sciences building to set him on a path back towards his dormitory that anyone who'd been tailing him wouldn't expect. But as he turned onto the small dirt pathway that would lead to the side of his building, his pocket began to buzz.

[[don't go back to ur room!]]

[[bakugou has the place flooded with his folks]]

[[momo said she was gonna test her new sticky polymer on him, guess it worked enough for him to be super pissed]]

[[i went to check up on him and the room was empty, but guys were at all the doors and windows]]

[[he must be feelin the end of the week pressure to win]]

[[come to my room, we'll figure it out from there]]

Heck. Heck heck heck. Her room. The room that belonged to her. How would he be able to focus when he wouldn't be able to get away from the sight of her, the smell of her? Izuku shoved those feelings back and turned around to take a stealthier path to her dorm room, one that would skirt the sight lines of his own. He texted her when he entered the common room, eyes roving as he wondered whether Kacchan would send boys into all of the dorm rooms until they found him.

No one stopped him as he made his way up two floors to Ochako's room, and on the first knock, the door opened. Ochako pulled him into the room and shut the door, leaning against it with a relieved look on her face. "I wasn't sure if I'd texted you in time."

"I'm glad you did; I was rattled enough after Momo and Shouto showed up telling me Kacchan was there." The smell of her was everywhere here, making his heart stutter and swell at the same time. He plopped onto the floor and hugged one of Ochako's giant plushies in an attempt to get rid of the feeling. "They're talking to Shouto's dad now."

Something in Ochako's face hardened. "You reckon he'll be okay?"

"I don't know, he seemed determined. I think we should trust him. It is his battle to fight."

Ochako's frown matched his own when she replied, "I know, but I still don't like it."

"Me neither."

They were quiet for a bit while Ochako joined him on the floor, pulling over the body sized horse plushie next to the cow plushie Izuku held. She stroked the blaze of white on its otherwise black coat, and said, "Only one more day until the week is up. It was a bloodbath on the way to the library this morning."

Izuku snorted against the cow plushie's head. "I wonder how many people are left."

"Mm." Ochako looked away, a hand rubbing her neck. "Won't be long now."

Another moment of silence passed, punctuated by a few distant screams and the sounds of running feet.

"So," Izuku began, lifting his head. "How long do you think I'll have to wait until I can make it back to my room?"

"Depends on how stubborn Bakugou is." She gave him a look that seemed to say, And we both know how stubborn he can be.

Her eyes were molten earth in the sunlight that filtered through the window, and Izuku felt the blood rush to his face. It was overwhelming, that gaze, and he had never noticed. He looked away towards the Lego coliseums she had built in one corner of the room. "You have some new ones?" he asked, to change the subject.

She followed his gaze and grinned. "Yep! I did the Roman one already, so now I'm working on a few others."

Small plushies were in each arena, armed with colorful pipe cleaners twisted into various weapons. Izuku's heart was doing that squeezing, swelling thing again at seeing such a blatant example of her personality come to life. "They look great."

"Thanks! You wanna help me finish the amphitheatre of El Jem?" She gestured at a half-finished project surrounded by loose Legos.

Now he was staring at her hands, those deft, sturdy hands, and told himself he said yes so he could distract himself by building and not because he wanted to see them in action.

So they passed a few hours finishing her coliseum, Ochako getting Izuku started and then going off to add details that required a more experienced touch. He snuck as many glances as he dared at her during those moments, struck by how all of her familiar expressions made his blood burn. There was the tongue tucked into her left cheek, meaning she was focused on something that required delicacy; there was the lip chewing, so she was considering her next steps. All of these tells and tics that had slipped into his awareness over time now blazed like wildfire in his mind, illuminating with devastating clarity a constellation of reasons he might have fallen in love with her.

He was so, so screwed.

"I'm going to take a peek at your dorm building, see if all the ruckus died down yet," Ochako said some time later, after they had finished the coliseum and christened it with fresh plushie warriors. "How about you call Shouto and see how he's holding up?"

"Sounds good to me," Izuku said as he dug out his phone. "Be careful of Mina, all right? She's probably just as frenzied as Kacchan is."

Ochako gave him a smug look. "Don't worry about her, I sent her on a wild goose chase on the other side of campus after telling a few people I'd be spending time with Tsuyu in her lab."

Yes, he had been very stupid to even think she'd need his help to win.

Once she slipped out the door, Izuku called Shouto. The phone rang and rang and rand, and Izuku was just getting worried when a clipped, "Hello?" sounded on the other end.

"Are you okay? How did things go with your father?"

"As well as can be expected. He tried to pull rank and money and all that other nonsense to get me to move into a private apartment where I won't be so 'negatively influenced by low-born underachievers,' but I told him to shove it and that I'd be paying for my own education from now on."

Izuku gaped. "Wow, I'm proud of you! Where did that come from?"

"Momo brought it up. We'd talked about our investments before, and she realized what I had been blind to - that I am over eighteen, and therefore steward of my own portfolio now." He paused, taking a breath. "He'd made me feel like such a child that I had forgotten my own strength. But you and Momo, and Ochako," he said, clearing his throat, "you helped me remember."

Izuku smiled, and let it bleed into his voice when he said, "I'm so happy to hear that. So where are you and Momo now?"

Shouto's tone turned serious. "We're at the room. But, Izuku, I don't think you should risk coming home tonight. The whole building is crawling with Katsuki's men, and they even have one stationed in every boy's bathroom in case you try to use one on a different floor. If you want to win, stay away. Where are you, anyway?"

"Ochako's, she warned me about Kacchan earlier," he said, sighing. "I guess I'll see if she can sneak me somewhere safe to sleep tonight."

"What if you and Momo switched beds for the night?"

"What?" Izuku spluttered, the thought of spending the night so close to her too appealing to be safe. "Why would you even suggest that? What happened to propriety and proper channels and - "

"Screw propriety," Shouto snapped. "Propriety is what has held me back all these years thinking I was a burden to my family for not being blindly obedient. Winning this means a lot to you, you clearly have Miss Uraraka's best interests in mind; I don't see a problem."

"Okay, I - " he gulped " - I'll ask her what she thinks. Momo is welcome to take my bed, though you should probably throw some fresh sheets on."

A beat too late, Shouto replied, "One bed should be sufficient. Good luck!" and hung up.

Izuku stared at his phone for another moment, caught between embarrassment and respect. Shaking his head, he settled against Ochako's bed to wait for her return.

/

"You're not going home tonight," Ochako announced upon opening her door almost an hour later. "I looked all over the building, and all of the entrances are being watched. They have boys on every floor - "

"Yeah, Shouto said the same thing," Izuku interrupted, only because of the anxious look on her face that he wanted to smooth out with his fingers. "We spoke, and recommended I stay away for the night. Momo's going to spend the night in my room and, uh." He started to blush, darn his stumbling heart. "And, well, logically and strategically speaking, it makes the most sense for me to take up her spot, here?" Why was he mixing a statement and a question? What was wrong with him? "I mean, that is, if you're okay with it. It's ultimately your decision, and I'll respect it either way, and actually I can probably find a place to sleep in the woods on the other side of campus if I borrow a sleeping bag - "

She sat down next to him and nudged his shoulder. "Calm down, of course you can stay here. I'd never leave you for the wolves like that, and if Momo's gonna be over your place anyway, it works out perfectly."

"Are you sure?" he asked, a small part of him terrified by the relief that threatened to overwhelm him.

She rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't have said so if it wasn't true."

"So, uh, what took so long?" he said, desperate for a conversation topic that didn't involve the details about him spending the night.

She scratched her neck and shrugged. "I wanted to check all of the entrances and halls inside. I thought that maybe even if the outside was super watched, but the inside wasn't, we could stage another distraction and get you back in. But it's too well guarded."

"Thanks for trying," he said, and nudged her with his shoulder. Her answering smile was blinding.

"So, now that we're officially having a slumber party - " she began, a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Do you have to call it that?" Izuku interjected, feeling that cursed flush creeping up his face.

" - we have to do each other's hair and watch a bunch of movies," she finished, reaching for her laptop. "It's just the rules."

The thought of her touching his hair sent a shiver down his spine. The thought of touching hers made his fingers itch. "I don't have that much to work with," he said, running a hand through his curls.

"I was just teasin'. Now make yourself useful and grab that extension cord."

It didn't take long for Ochako to set up her laptop on a small end table and throw a cuddly pile of pillows and plushies on the ground for them to lie on. Ever the gracious hostess, she let Izuku pick the movie. He chose the first Avengers film, naturally, because who doesn't like superhero movies?

The floor was quite comfortable with all of the pillows and plushies. Izuku leaned against Ochako's bed and left a chaste distance between them that she promptly destroyed, her light brown hair inches from his thigh where she curled up beside him. Now that they were settled, he noticed that floral, spicy smell all around him, steeped into the pillows and plushies that he was buried under. It was an effort not to shove his face into one and breathe deeply, if only, he told himself, so he could figure out the maddening mystery of that spicy, herbal undertone.

Ochako's knife poked him from his pocket every time he shifted, reminding him of his one job tonight. But he figured they could watch the movie first. Set the mood and all that. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, watching the light from the laptop flicker across her face, creating shadows that were gone in a blink. It struck him, again, how lucky he was to spend this kind of time with her, that she trusted him enough to have him in her space. With a swallow, he wondered if she ever thought about him this way. Not that it mattered, of course; he was more than happy with their friendship. But he still couldn't quiet the voice that yearned for more more more.

The way Ochako would toss her hair and snuggle into the pillows next to him did nothing to calm his growing urge to touch her. Nothing scandalous or obscene, but he just wanted one small place where he knew that the line between their beginnings and endings merged.

He made it through the entire first movie and a dinner of granola bars and Dr. Pepper before his resolve crumbled. "Hey, Ochako?"

"Yeah?" she said, clicking around her laptop to get the second Avengers movie started.

"About the hair thing." God, he had lost his mind. Well and truly lost it. "I could uh, I know how to braid stuff? I was a Boy Scout once and I learned how to braid rope so it'd withstand hurricane level winds, and I could do that to your hair if you want. I mean, I'm not sure it'd be able to withstand a hurricane, hair's tensile strength is much weaker than nylon rope, and obviously we're not in danger from a hurricane here-"

Ochako tilted her head. "You wanna braid my hair?"

He was going to die of embarrassment. He'd be the first clinical case. But that strange heart-squeezing power was stronger than his abject mortification, so he nodded and hoped she wouldn't notice the flush creeping up his face.

"All you had to do was ask." She finished starting the next movie and sat cross-legged in front of him. "Let me, um. Let me know if you need a brush or a comb or somethin'."

Was her voice a little unsteady? Izuku wrestled the thought, and its implications, far, far back. Her hair wasn't that long, aside from her side bangs, so at least he wouldn't be stuck in this increasingly compromised position for too much time.

He had to cough to cover the small gasp that forced its way out when he grabbed the first section of her hair. It was soft, yes, but it had such texture, so much of that quirkiness that was part of who she was. He braided it as gently as he could, covering a wheeze when he glanced down and saw the uncovered nape of her neck so bare and so close. The neck is comprised of muscle, tendons, and bone that connects the head to the rest of the body, he recited over and over in the hopes of making it seem more clinical and removed. He had to start screaming it in his head when he noticed a small flush creeping down towards her shoulders.

A distant part of him despaired about why necks of all things should be that enticing, but most of his energy went towards finishing her braids. If he spent a little extra time with his fingers in her hair, or accidentally brushed the space between her shoulder and neck, well, sue him.

Ochako, for her part, seemed to be enjoying the attention. She made little happy noises every time he brushed her scalp, though they were always followed by small coughs, so maybe she was just trying to get a piece of granola bar out of her throat. "Thanks," she mumbled when he was done, running her hands over them to check his work. "Well, fair's fair, so it's your turn now."

"What?" Izuku said, voice cracking.

"You heard me," she said, and stood up to rifle through a small box on her dresser. "Now scoot."

Deep, cleansing breaths. Izuku focused on his breathing like that one seminar speaker told them to, and almost choked because he was in the middle of her room where everything smelled like her. Wasn't he supposed to get used to this smell? Wasn't that science? He was feeling very betrayed by his olfactory system when Ochako sat down behind him, and then he lost the ability to form coherent thoughts when her fingers started playing with his hair.

"Momma and Papa used to give me all kinds of dolls when I was a kid," she said while she gathered pieces of his hair and clipped things in it. "I'd always rip their heads off, though, so that's when they tried the Legos. But when I got older, I felt bad enough about it that I asked my high school friends to teach me all the girly stuff. Turns out it's pretty fun, too."

"Mm." He didn't trust his voice not to break again under her ministrations. Each tug made his stomach flip, each graze of her fingers on his scalp or the back of his neck sent small jolts of adrenaline through his system. Was it this bad for Shouto, too? He wished he could talk to his roommate.

"There," she said, pulling back. "Pretty as a peach in June."

He raised a hand to feel whatever she did to him, but she grabbed it and said, "Nuh uh, not until I get a picture of my hard work." A few clicks and a flash later, Ochako turned her phone to him. "See?"

For a moment he forgot about his burgeoning crush and the game he was trying to win, and was simply a boy laughing with his best friend. His hair was pinned to the side in small barrettes topped with white-polka-dotted red bows, and on the crown of his head rested a tiara with two nubby devil horns poking out.

"Tsuyu and the gang gave it to me for my birthday last year," she said as he touched it, still laughing.

"Okay, well, now that we've completed the ritual side of the slumber party, let's finish this movie." Izuku was careful not to disturb his new hair ornaments as he settled back against her bed. She resumed her curled position next to him, and Izuku told himself that she was just twirling her new braids because they were novel.

Ochako put on the first Lord of the Rings movie afterwards, claiming that it was still a story about heroes, just not ones with bright costumes. Izuku began nodding off midway through the second movie, though, so he stumbled after her as she grabbed fresh sheets for him to use on Momo's bed.

He started climbing into bed when Ochako said, "Did you think you were gonna wear those sweaty clothes to bed? Here." She threw him a pair of sweatpants and a soft shirt that said, "What did the structural engineer say to the architect? Nice buttress," before heading to the door. "I'm going to shower and brush my teeth and all, so don't wait up." The door clicked behind her, and Izuku found himself alone in her room with her clothes in his hand.

Face burning, he changed, folding his old clothes into a small bundle next to Momo's bed. Exhaustion pulled at his limbs while he wandered over to shut the light off. But the moment he flipped the switch, he gasped, because the ceiling was covered in glow in the dark paint. Small animals gallivanted around improbable building blueprints amid constellations half real and half-imagined, all glowing in the same faint light. His chest tightened as he imagined her falling asleep to this every night, outlining the product of her dreams where she could relive them every night.

He closed his eyes on that thought, letting the comforting smell of her detergent carry him to sleep. He woke once when she came in, though she was quiet as a ghost, and thought he woke a second time to the sound of her door closing. But she was in her bed when he awoke the next morning, so he chalked it up to a fragment of a dream and considered his next steps.

He looked again at Ochako's sleeping form, listening to her soft snores fill the room, and began to put his shoes on. The second shoe was halfway on before he realized he was still wearing her clothes, and the ensuing moral crisis about whether he should change while she slept resulted in him silently screaming into his hands before he simply crept out her room. Better to wear her clothes than risk her seeing more than she wanted, and besides, he was just going to do a quick perimeter check. See for himself how stubborn Kacchan was after a night of still losing his quarry.

A quick glance in both directions assured him that her hall was clear, and it was still early enough that no one had left their room yet. He eased his way into the stairwell, ears straining for the muted breaths or faint shuffling that would alert him to a sentry. But all was quiet, so he took the two flights of stairs down to side entrance and slid into the cool morning air.

Whatever Kacchan was planning now, it didn't involve crowds of his cronies swarming the grounds. Izuku still kept to the shadows of trees and bushes as he made his way back to his building. The front entrance looked unguarded, but given the week he'd had, he didn't trust it for one moment. So he backed away from his lookout position under a nearby shrub and headed to the building's forgotten side entrance.

Hardly anybody remembered it was there because it led into the cobwebbed basement, not directly to one of the main stairwells. Izuku allowed himself a measure of hope: maybe Bakugou had to deal with something else somewhere. Maybe he'd be able to sleep in his own bed tonight.

Traitorous thoughts about how nice it was to sleep in Ochako's room distracted him enough that he had taken one full step towards the rusty door before he realized someone was sitting on the ground next to it.

Kacchan was sitting on the ground next to it.

Izuku hopped back, prepared to sprint. But Kacchan just flicked a baleful glance his way before tilting his head back up at the sky. "I'm out of the game, loser. Go find someone else to cower from."

Oh. Oh. "I guess Shinsou was trickier than you thought," he said, trying to keep his voice conversational. Kacchan hated pity, but Izuku needed to know how it happened.

Kacchan's snort was full of disdain. "As if. Fucker was taken out days ago, not that he'd ever be a problem for me." He stood up and dusted off pants that Izuku noticed were regular jeans, and another look confirmed he was wearing a belt and regular sneakers. The game really was over for him.

Kacchan made to walk away, back rigid and shoulders hunched against some invisible affront, when Izuku called out, "Who stabbed you?"

Kacchan turned a gleaming eye on him and spat, "Wouldn't you like to know?" But as he stalked off, Izuku could have sworn he heard him mutter, "Fragile, my ass."

Once he was alone again, truly, blessedly alone, Izuku allowed himself one elated whoop. Kacchan wasn't after him anymore. He had to tell Ochako!

Her sweatpants were loose around his hips as he jogged back to her dorm. He was walking down her hall when it occurred to him that he no longer knew who was pursuing him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he counted the steps it'd take him to reach Ochako's room at the same time he got ready to run.

"Izuku?"

Heart thundering, Izuku whirled around to find Ochako yawning in her nightgown with a toothbrush in hand. "If you need the boy's room, it's on the next floor up."

Thank goodness. He tried not to stare at her too much, a task made harder by her sleep-mussed hair and half-closed eyes - she must have only just woken up. "I'm all set, I just went to scout my building," he said, walking over to her. "I ran into Kacchan outside, but get this - he's already out! He wouldn't tell me who got him, but with it being the last day and all, I'd better figure it out quick."

A guilty look was the only warning he got.

The end of the knife was almost anticlimactically dull where Ochako poked him in the stomach, the rest of it clutched in the palm of her hand. It was attached to her toothbrush, and he hadn't seen it because she had covered it with her grip. A distant part of him was impressed, while most of him was coming to terms with the fact that he just lost the game by Ochako's hand. It wasn't as devastating as he'd thought it'd be.

"I'm so sorry," she said, looking almost as shocked as Izuku felt. "I just, I couldn't wait any longer. The deadline's today, and you were right here, and -" She stopped talking to cover her face with a hand. "I hope you don't hate me."

That got his brain working again. "I could never hate you! Especially not for something like this." He closed his hand around hers, still holding the plastic knife to his stomach. "You beat me fair and square. And now maybe you'll get to tell him in person about...about how you're still here. Also," he looked away, somehow more embarrassed to share this failure than to deal with his loss, "I've had your knife for the past few days. And I could never quite commit. So you earned this."

She blushed, pink and pretty and - oh god, he should not be thinking about how pretty she is right now. "I guess you're right."

A beat of silence. "Wait a minute," Izuku said, the implications of his loss hitting him like a brick to the face. "You killed Kacchan?"

Her answering smile was full of teeth. "He never saw it comin'. I slipped out after you fell asleep last night and walked right on over to him. I think he had a mind to question me about your whereabouts." She shook her head, but that didn't stop Izuku from seeing the smugness in her expression. "Was easier than shootin' fish in a barrel."

Izuku smiled at the thought, but quickly sobered when he realized he was standing in her hallway still wearing her clothes. "Er, I should probably change and give these back to you," he said turning back towards her room, but her hand shot out and clasped his.

"Um." Her eyes were wide, like she didn't think before reaching out. "That's, uh. It's fine. You can bring 'em to me later. I'm sure you wanna get some real food in you now that you don't have to worry about gettin' stabbed on your way to the dining hall."

"Yeah, right." She didn't let go of his hand, though, and his arm twitched with the urge to pull her in for a hug. Wouldn't that be pleasant - a nice, platonic hug?

The sounds of someone slow-clapping interrupted his train of thought. There, at the other end of the hallway, was a masked man who seemed like he phased through the wall for how suddenly he appeared. "Congratulations, Ochako Uraraka," he said in a warm baritone. "You are the official winner of the 2018 campus Murder Week. Your name will be added to the guest list for Toshinori Yagi's guest lecture this week."

"How do you know it's me?" she asked. "I accounted for as many of the people who were taken out before I got the people who killed them, but I never had a solid number."

"Ah, when you have friends majoring in computer science who have watched too many crime shows," he said, pulling out a plastic knife and tapping something along its edge, "you make do." It opened to reveal a small chip, but Izuku didn't know whether that meant GPS tracking or pressure sensitivity or what its function was.

"Okay then," Ochako said, blinking. "Are you absolutely sure it's all filled, though?" She looked anxiously at Izuku.

The masked man seemed to pause. "As of the last count, yes." But there was a smile in his voice when he added, "Though a strong will wins oneself many prizes." And with that he exited the hallway, the door barely making a sound as it shut behind him.

"What do you think he means by that?" Izuku said, trying to put his hands in his pockets before remembering that he was wearing Ochako's sweatpants. Why didn't they have pockets? It seemed a cruel oversight on some fashion designer's part.

She gave him a devious smile. "I think it means we gotta sneak you in."

/

Nope. No way. Not happening.

Afternoon sunlight shone on the floor outside of the small auditorium used for guest lecturers. Izuku paced, and then paced some more, because he was about to try to sneak into an event involving his longtime hero. Even Shouto's emoji-laden texts couldn't cheer him up.

"Calm down, you're antsier than a horse in a hall of mirrors," Ochako said from where she was sitting on a low bench.

"But what if they ask for my name? What if they know I don't belong and kick me out? Right in front of Toshinori? I don't think I could survive that kind of embarrassment."

She rolled her eyes. "You won't have to. Just trust me, okay?"

People began to arrive a short time later, forming a line that snaked all the way down to the adjoining hall. When it finally dwindled to just a few people near them, Ochako took Izuku's hand and got into the end of the line.

"Names, please?" said a bored looking underclassman holding a clipboard.

"Ochako Uraraka, and this is Izuku Midoriya. I'm on the list, but Izuku is something of a last-minute addition. We ran into Mr. Yagi a short time ago and he asked for Izuku's presence specifically."

Izuku tried his best not to gawk at Ochako. This is what she had in mind?

The student turned to look at him. "Is this true?"

"Uhh," Izuku said, fervently wishing he'd had some warning so he could have practiced his lying face. "Yes?"

Frowning, the student opened his mouth to probably call his bluff when a booming voice behind them said, "Let the boy in! There must be room in such a large building for one more body."

Not daring to believe his ears, Izuku turned to find himself face to face with Toshinori Yagi himself. The golden hair he was known for in his youth was now laced with grey, and the chest of his suit seemed a little loose. But his eyes were sharp and voice steady when he added, "You'll have to let me in, anyway, if I'm going to talk to anyone."

The underclassman gulped and ushered the three of them in.

Toshinori Yagi had spoken to him. The Toshinori Yagi. Izuku floated to the back row with Ochako without really seeing, and nearly had a heart attack when Toshinori winked at them on his way to the stage.

Izuku's hand was clammy with nerves and excitement and post-dishonesty adrenaline, but Ochako kept holding it anyway. They watched Toshinori's lecture and joined the small group of students who wanted to have a more intimate discussion than the question and answer piece at the end of his talk.

They gathered at the front of the auditorium once the majority of the crowd had filed out.

"So, what would you like to talk about?" Toshinori said with a warm smile.

Izuku was still entirely too nervous to speak, so he let the other students ask about job prospects and harrowing rescues and things which, while fascinating to know, didn't answer his true question.

But the fact remained that he'd have to speak to the man in order to find out, and that meant having a coherent train of thought mapped out. Which, judging by the overheated electronics noises bouncing around his head, wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Ochako could see he had something to say, though. Once the other students left, she said, "Thanks again for coming to speak with us! My friend here has one final question for you."

Toshinori smiled again. "I was wondering when you were going to speak up. You've had a question in your posture since I saw you in line."

"Right, well," Izuku started, unsure how to convey everything he wanted to say. "On your blog post the other week, you talked about an old patient of yours who wanted to die, and you helped him do that. Was there really no other option?" He looked at his hands, now folded in his lap. "I wanted to become a surgeon like you so that I could be somebody's hero and make decisions that save someone's life. Why did you help that man end his so easily?"

There was a gentle sadness in Toshinori's eyes as he answered. "Son, one of the first things you'll learn about being a hero is the power of choice. Not everyone wants to be saved, and you have to respect their right to make that decision. Even if it hurts you. Even if it hurts their family. Because - " he reached out to pat Izuku on the shoulder " - sometimes the most heroic thing you can do is to help someone carry out decisions about their own fate."

Stunned, Izuku nodded. It felt like the Earth had shifted a few degrees beneath his feet, like something fundamental had clicked into place. "Thank you, sir."

"It's my pleasure," Toshinori said, and Izuku could see the years of hard decisions flickering in his eyes. It was a brash thought, but maybe one day Izuku could help Toshinori feel better about the weight of his choices, too.

As if he could read his mind, Toshinori said, "Giving these talks always makes me famished! Would you kids know a good place to grab a bite to eat?" He got to his feet slowly, wincing a little while he stretched his back. "It'll be my treat. I want to know more about what the future doctors of the world are like."

"And engineers," Ochako added modestly.

Toshinori smiled. "Who else will build us the hospitals of the future?"

Her eyes shone.

Together, the three of them walked out of the auditorium. "So, what do you youngsters have planned for the summer?" Toshinori asked as they headed for the cafe across campus.

"Well," Ochako said, grabbing Izuku's hand, "I think we're figuring that out." She gave it a squeeze.

The rush of the past week washed over him, the chases, the saves, the time spent with his best friend and roommate. Maybe he was allowed to change, too. Maybe he was allowed to dream.

He squeezed back.