-the night before-

Midoriya walks toward the end of Todoroki's empty bed, overly cautious about invading his personal space. Midoriya has been staying in the guest room since his arrival. He sits and grips the edge of the bed. The comforters are plush beneath his palms. He inhales and smells the jasmine scent of Todoroki's shampoo, the same one he's used for years. It's true, this bed used to be theirs at one point. Midoriya slept on the side facing the window. On the nights he wouldn't be able to sleep, he gazed out the window and counted the stars, nestled into Todoroki's warm embrace.

So many memories are stored within these walls. Midoriya can replay the scenes clearly in his mind, like a film: the time they couldn't stop laughing after a kitchen experiment with soba noodles and marinara sauce; the mornings they stayed in bed tracing each other's scars and reminiscing about the past; the evening when All Might died and Todoroki held him tightly while he wept for hours.

Yet there's one particular moment he can see with the most precision. It's the one that has haunted him for the past three years. It's a moment he's both proud of and the one he most regrets: the very last time he was in this room; the moment he left their life together behind.

"You're not listening to me," said Todoroki, almost in defeat. He was standing across the room near the door, arms crossed.

"And you don't understand where I'm coming from," Midoriya responded. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. He buried his face in his hands. When he was younger, Midoriya's idea of resolving conflict involved avoiding the problem, submitting to others, and carrying the burden on his own. Over the years, his convictions grew, many thanks to the man in front of him. Todoroki helped him be okay with messy confrontations and words said in the heat of the moment. It was what "sorry's" were for, Todoroki used to say.

Still, this approach was just as exhausting.

"Then help me understand," said Todoroki, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I feel like I know why you're upset, but maybe I'm missing something."

Midoriya detected the impatience in his tone. He ran his fingers through his short curls and scratched the back of his neck, wondering if Todoroki was just saving face and long closed the door to understanding him.

I should give him the benefit of the doubt, Midoriya thought. He looked at Todoroki, whose eyes were boring into him. "Kacchan has to know Kirishima is still alive," said Midoriya slowly. "This is killing him. He doesn't let a lot of people in and we're keeping the one truth that can save him."

"This was Kirishima's idea," pressed Todoroki. He walked over and sat beside Midoriya, leaving a little bit of distance between them. Softly, but firmly, he continued, "The last thing Kirishima wants to do is hurt Bakugou. But, he realized this is bigger than the both of them."

"But, what's the harm?" Midoriya implored, eyes teary. "What difference does it make if Kacchan knows?"

"Riot's still undercover. No one but us and the police chief knows," says Todoroki, reaching for Midoriya's hand. He paused as if he was asking for permission and, when Midoriya didn't pull away, interlaced their fingers together. "It's going to be okay."

"No, it's not," said Midoriya, releasing his hand. "Kacchan is not going to be okay." He stood up and started pacing. It was hard to be near Todoroki, to be intimate with him when he felt so emotionally far away. Midoriya had been wrestling over whether he should just tell Bakugou himself, but at that moment he decided.

His footsteps stopped in the middle of the room, but his eyes were glued to the ground. "I'm going to tell him," he whispered.

"Izuku." Midoriya turned his head and could tell his boyfriend was tired by the way he gripped his knees. Physically tired. And tired of this conversation. "You don't have the right to tell him. This is my agency's investigation. You can't jeopardize that."

"You're not even trying to understand his pain," Midoriya said desperately. His whole body was shaking now as if it knew before Midoriya was made conscious of it that this would be the end of them. If Todoroki couldn't meet him halfway, that would be it. "I don't get it," Midoriya said. "Do you have some sort of childhood grudge against him? Do you even care about Kacchan?"

"Of course I do!" Todoroki snapped. He stood up, his face weighed down with hopelessness. "This decision wasn't easy for me, Izuku. I didn't want for any of this to happen. But, this is where we're at. You have to live with it."

Tears flowed down Midoriya's face. He bit his lip and took deep breaths through his nose. His fists were quivering and he could feel shards of his broken heart piercing him from the inside. Giving up on a dream was something he never had to fully realize, not even when he was quirkless. Things always worked out to his benefit. But, this was the first time he had to give up on something because it went against his values. He couldn't give his principles up for anyone.

"Fine," Midoriya said quietly. "Fine. I'll live with your decision, but you - I can't live with you."

"Hey, Izuku?"

The voice yanks him out of his daydream. Midoriya looks up at Kirishima who is leaning against the doorframe, a worried expression on his face. "Sorry, Eijiro," says Midoriya.

"Let's eat," Kirishima says, gesturing to him. "I made katsudon."

\\\

After dinner, Kirishima starts going through the maps of the hotel by candlelight. Since the two have to keep a low profile, they opt for leaving the main light off in case Todoroki's apartment is being watched. Midoriya gawks at the blueprints, chewing on his thumbnail mindlessly.

"You okay, Izuku?" asks Kirishima, setting a stack of manila envelopes down. "I know we kind of skipped the "catching up" part and went straight to work."

"Sorry," replies Midoriya, shifting in his seat. He twiddles his thumbs awkwardly. "It has been a while, hasn't it?"

"Three years. A lot has happened." Kirishima crosses his legs and leans back, staring at Midoriya carefully, knowingly.

It's surreal. All the contact they previously had with each other was through Todoroki. Midoriya received from him very brief updates regarding the guild after he moved out through brusque text messages and 30-second phone calls. They decided to continue being friendly with one another for professional reasons, as well as for Kacchan.

Todoroki probably confides in Kirishima. They were always somewhat close, ever since Bakugou's rescue from the League of Villains, but have grown even closer in recent years.

"Should I...fill in the gaps for you?" asks Midoriya, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks.

Kirishima smiles and grabs a case file. "You don't have to tell me anything. It's really none of my business." He flips through the file absent-mindedly, his eyes not really registering any of the content inside.

Midoriya chuckles and leans forward. Kirishima has always been easy to talk to and, if Midoriya is being honest with himself, he prefers Kirishima to have the full story. Not just Todoroki's side. "I can tell you the short version."

"Oh, thank goodness!" Kirishima blurts out, tossing the case file aside. His grin is ear-to-ear. He rubs his hands together and waits for Midoriya in anticipation.

"It was shortly after you met with Todoroki at the hospital," says Midoriya. "We had a disagreement about whether or not to tell Kacchan."

"I know that much," states Kirishima. "Todoroki thinks it's more than that. He thinks you don't trust him or his decisions."

Midoriya nods, his eyes fixed on the candle that sits between them on the coffee table. He watches the flame gently wavering, the wax dripping along the candlestick. "I'm not sure if it was about trust. For me, it was about understanding. I wanted so badly to be understood that night and all he was focused on was convincing me why he was right."

"What did you want him to understand?" asks Kirishima, his gaze lowered to the ground. There's a hint of guilt in his voice.

"What it's like to lose someone forever." Midoriya takes a deep breath. The vault in which he had locked all his anxieties, fears, hurt, and love cracks open. He counts to ten in his head, desperate to keep the emotions from flooding out all at once. This is not the time, Midoriya scolds himself. Tonight is about the raid tomorrow. He needs to focus.

He feels the warmth of another body next to him and a strong arm wrapping around his shoulders. Kirishima's presence has always been comforting. Midoriya is convinced that he possesses some sort of magic to be able to break people's walls down this quickly and with this much compassion. The man is strong in more ways than one.

"This is my fault," says Kirishima, his voice cracking. He clears his throat. "I put you and Todoroki in a really difficult position."

Midoriya shakes his head, knowing full well how untrue that statement is. "This has been building up for a while. Our relationship would have crumbled eventually."

Kirishima takes Midoriya's hand and squeezes. He locks eyes with Midoriya. The resolve in Kirishima's gaze is penetrating. "Maybe not."

Midoriya's heart stops. Maybe not. He wonders after the years apart how much of Todoroki and his feelings are trapped in the past and how much of it remains.

"Well," Midoriya says, knitting his eyebrows. He wants to change subjects before hope sets in. It's too painful to acknowledge that starting over is possible. "After tomorrow night, what will happen to you? When all this is over, will you come home?"

Kirishima's lips curl nervously and he turns his head away. Midoriya can feel his pulse beating in their adjoined hands.

"I don't even know what that means," he replies with a forced laugh. "I immersed myself so deeply in this other life that I don't even know what it's like to be Kirishima anymore." He looks thoughtfully at the other side of the room, his pupils glazed over. "Maybe that man is gone."

"That man is right here," Midoriya reassures. He nudges his friend with his shoulder and smirks. "He might have black hair, a tongue piercing, and more expensive shoes, but his heart is still the same. You're still the same."

Kirishima snickers half-heartedly. "Bakugou's going to be pissed."

"And when is he not?"