"So you insist that this isn't a date, but deciding what to wear is important, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you're bringing flowers?"

"Also yes."

"Also, you want to give her the best non-hero impression of you?"

"Correct."

Katsuki grumbled under his breath. Just a few days ago, Izuku called him to tell him that he was invited to a café by a girl he met just after he was dumped. Katsuki never took Izuku to be the type of guy to look for a rebound. Perhaps he was right. Izuku remembered this mystery girl's face after having encountered her once, he seemed genuinely serious about getting to know her, and now, he was taking his sweet time to get ready. Typically, rebounds were not serious. Maybe Izuku's protests were true: he wanted to start his school year on a happy note, and making a new friend was the best way to.

However, Izuku's behavior at the moment was very much like that of a guy overthinking about not upsetting his date. This was what irritated Katsuki. So much so, that after a final low curse, he rose from his seat on Izuku's bed and stomped to the closet. "I thought girls took a lot of time to get dressed, but you deserve a damn award." He pulled out a few dress shirts and jeans. "You're meeting this girl - what's her name? Kamiko - at that café near the beach, right? It's kinda classy, so you can't go there in T-shirts and sweatpants. Business casual." Katsuki held up a beige shirt against Midoriya's chest before frowning and setting it aside. "And don't stammer when you give your order. Don't chew your food as slow as a bear or nibble as fast as a squirrel."

"Kacchan, I know all of that," Izuku complained. As an afterthought, he added, "I don't eat like an animal, do I?"

Katsuki shoved a sage shirt and a pair of tawny jeans at Izuku. As he pushed Izuku to the bathroom, he scolded, "That's not the point, idiot. Date or not, look presentable in front of her because she will be doing the same for you." Katsuki shut the door just as Izuku stumbled through. After a few moments, he reappeared. Katsuki could not help the satisfied smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips. "I knew my fashion sense was brilliant. That one time you wore that ugly brown, baggy suit to I-Expo scarred me forever. At least now you don't look like an embarrassment." He scanned Izuku up and down and adjusted the collar of the shirt. "Tuck your shirt in," he ordered. Izuku scrambled to do just that, a growing red blush coloring his cheeks.

"B-b-but Mom gave me that suit. She said it would look good on me. And I wore a similar tuxedo when I asked Uraraka out," Izuku retorted. "My mom's opinion can't be wrong, can it?"

Katsuki groaned as he sprayed cologne on Izuku. "She's your mom. Of course, she thinks that everything looks good on you. And did you seriously wear that ugly brown shade in front of Uraraka? For that itself, I would have rejected you hard." Katsuki thrust the bouquet of daffodils in Izuku's hands and shoved him out the front door of the apartment. "Be confident! And remember to split the bill evenly!" Before Izuku could reply, Katsuki slammed the door.

Izuku muttered about Katsuki's behavior before looking out at the street ahead of him. That night, when he gave Furukawa his number, he had half-expected that the slip of paper would be lost among other things. Perhaps the effects of a sore rejection lingered. So when two days later, Furukawa called and invited him to a local café, he was elated. The café overlooked Takoba Beach, which was his favorite place. A wonderful coincidental connection.

He stopped just before the glass doors of the café. The sun was setting, meaning that he had arrived ten minutes early. Despite Katsuki's beliefs that Izuku did not know the first thing about meeting with a girl, he knew that punctuality was key. And since he was here, he decided to reserve the best table for the evening: the one by the glass doors.

The view outside was stunning. Vibrant reds, brilliant oranges, and deep yellows colored the sky like fire. And the ocean seemed to be made of embers rather than water. Everything was tinged in a warm hue, and it made Izuku feel warm on the inside. He was hopeful that this meeting would go smoothly.

Furukawa was a nice girl. That much he could tell from his brief encounter with her years ago. Granted, he felt a little guilty that he had not thought of her much after rescuing her. But now was an opportunity to change that. After talking to her on the beach, he realized that she was sweet, too. Her vixen appearance only amplified her kindness. Izuku knew a little about the prejudice geared toward mutants. He had always thought it was ridiculous, because he had experienced the same discrimination when he was quirkless. Some of his classmates were mutants, and he overheard snide remarks aimed at them from time to time.

Izuku was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed the moment the doors opened, and the sweet girl he was thinking about entered the café.

Kamiko was agitated.

She had spent the better part of the last two hours stifling her negative thoughts. She had felt self-conscious about her vixen features. She fidgeted with the hem of her favorite tawny wool poncho. She picked at the loose threads of her ginger capri. She kept adjusting and readjusting her daffodil headband. All subconscious actions to put her at ease. Yet, the opposite happened. Kamiko could not stop the rampant voices in her head. Ignoring the mate bond and all her other reservations, she wanted to befriend Midoriya.

The mate bond. No. She could not forget. Every time she simply conjured his name, her tail would twitch. Her parents were mates. They loved each other immensely. And it was them who had prepared her for the eventuality of a partner. For foxes, it was possible to have more than one mate, though that usually occurred after the first mate died. For a fox mutant like her, it was a little more complex. At the same time, she could have more than one partner. Really, it depended on the circumstances. The strength of the bond depended on multiple factors. How intimate she was with any of her partners - emotionally, mentally, and physically - whether her partners reciprocated her feelings, how she viewed them, and whether they treated her right. However, because Izuku had saved her life, the connection she felt with him was stronger than usual.

The instant she stepped inside, the other patrons of the café stopped what they were doing and gaped at her. Not out of awe, but out of disgust. Their eyes seared with hate and revulsion. The tension was palpable. Kamiko looked away to search for Midoriya. She could not deny the wave of relief that washed over her when he beamed and beckoned her. For an instant, she did not notice her tail quiver.

Like a gentleman, he pulled a chair for her. "Glad to see you. I admit, I was kinda worried you wouldn't take me up on the offer," he greeted. "And these flowers are for you. Yellows and oranges suit you."

"Squeak!" Internally, Kamiko berated herself for slipping into her bad habit. This was not the kind of impression she wanted to give Midoriya. "Thank you," she whispered after taking the bouquet from him. She inhaled its subdued fragrance. Was it a coincidence or connection that she wore an artificial daffodil in her hair today? "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. Actually …" Suddenly she felt too shy to meet his gaze. "Actually, I was afraid of the same thing. At first, I was excited about seeing you again, but then my anxiety made me doubt it. That's why it took me two days to summon the courage."

Again, Kamiko reprimanded herself. She tried to brace herself for the change in Midoriya's behavior at her confession, but to her surprise, he only laughed fondly. "I know the feeling. My friend constantly tells me that I am a bundle of frenzied nerves. I have a tendency to mutter nonstop and stutter when my anxiety peaks." Midoriya's cheeks burned as it was his turn to feel self-conscious. "Y-yeah. It's a bad habit of mine. B-but if it makes you feel any better, I understand."

She was touched. It seemed that both of them had tried to be braver than they had been feeling. But now that their secrets were revealed, it was not so embarrassing anymore. In fact, the idea that the vanquisher of the League of Villains had a vulnerable side made him more relatable to her. Her tail ached to brush against his leg, but she suppressed the urge. "It helps," she said meekly. "Should we order?"

"Sure!" Midoriya exclaimed as he passed a menu toward her. While he perused through his own, Kamiko could hear hushed, harsh whispers from the other customers. All of them taunting her about her gigantic height and fox face. She tried to ignore it. Espresso, café au lait, cappuccino, hot chocolate listed under hot beverages. Frappé, iced latte, smoothies listed under cold beverages. Accompanied by cakes, doughnuts, bagels, and sandwiches in the refreshments section. The comments became ruder. Starting from jokes about her tail, fur, and snout, now they blatantly insulted her and reduced her to nothing more than a filthy animal from the sewers.

A waiter soon arrived to take their orders. She deliberately took her time to order a drink and refreshment. Midoriya glanced at her strange behavior. After taking his order, the waiter left. And so did the brief respite.

Tears pricked Kamiko's eyes. Having excellent hearing was a curse right now. She hated it. She loathed her lack of willpower; she abhorred being the subject of mockery; she despised being discriminated like this. Kamiko detested being weak. Hope of being accepted into any college was ebbing from her. On the way to the café, she was catcalled and sneered at by passersby. Even here, she was still being scorned at. Some patrons had begun to question Midoriya's presence ("Is not that the expected future Number One Hero?" "What is he doing with something like her?" "How dare she be in the same vicinity as him?"). Those tears dripped forth. When the food arrived, her appetite had disappeared. Her keen sense of smell was oppressed by her dismal mood.

She nibbled at the doughnut at the speed of a tortoise. This did not go unnoticed by Midoriya. He craned his head upward and asked, "Hey, are you okay? Don't listen to them. You're perfectly fine the way you are. We're here to hang out, so let's do just that. So tell me some cool stuff about yourself, and I'll do the same." He passed the napkin stand in her direction as he glared at the patrons to keep their mouths shut.

Kamiko felt grateful by his intervention. He truly did not care about all the things that others bullied her for, and that gave her just enough strength to pull through. She wiped the tears away with a napkin and regained some semblance of an appetite. "I'm eighteen and a single child." Then she sighed. That was the most interesting about her? Of course not.

But Midoriya took it in stride. He did not even notice. "Wow! Same here."

"Oh, so which university do you attend?"

Midoriya hesitated, much to Kamiko's confusion. "Actually, I got held back a year because of the war. So university is still a year away for me," he laughed nervously.

Kamiko smiled sadly. "I think it's going to be the same for me."

"Sorry, but what did you say?"

"Nothing! Squeak!"

Midoriya's lingering gaze relayed that he did not buy Kamiko's excuse, but he did not push. The sun had long set after both of them finished their meals. Looking outside the window, he suggested, "Hey, how about we walk along the beach?"

Kamiko let out another involuntary squeak. To think that he would want to spend time with her, even after their dinner was over, was rather shocking to her. She followed Midoriya's gaze. The moon had replaced the sun, and its serene white glow rippled across the surface of the dark water. The door behind her opened as a customer exited, bringing with it a waft of a gentle breeze. This was perfect weather for a walk on the beach. She agreed. Unknown to her, even her tail agreed as it inched toward Midoriya.

Izuku had been observing everyone and everything since Furukawa stepped through the door. Credit to his hero training, but he overheard every derogatory slur and jeer aimed at Furukawa. It enraged him. Though many years had passed, he had not forgotten how it felt to be bullied by his classmates during primary and intermediate school. Crude remarks about her vixen countenance reminded him of his bullies' barbs about his lack of a quirk. In a way, being quirkless was its own form of a mutation.

But he did not want her to feel any of that right now. Izuku sincerely wished to befriend her, and these people were not making it easy for him. With each passing second, he was being pushed to his limit. And when he saw Furukawa cry silently, it almost pushed him over the edge. He wanted to rise from his seat and shout that everyone keep their bigoted opinions to themselves. He fought for a better future for everyone, mutant or not, when he confronted All for One. The fact that this kind of discrimination persisted sickened him. And he would have spoken up, had it not been for Furukawa. More important than telling these bigots to become decent humans was comforting her. He tried to distract her by having a conversation. That was easier said than done.

Her attention kept alternating between him and the customers. His condolences and their jibes. This was not how he wanted tonight to go. Before he snapped completely, he offered the night walk. From their encounter a few nights ago, he knew the water and sand brought her as much solace as they did to him. Right now, both of them could use some quiet.

Izuku was about to rise from his chair when he felt something brush against his shin. He freezed, but then thought it was his imagination. Until the sensation returned. Something definitely touched his leg. "That's weird," he commented as he bent down to see the source of the tickling. However, the angle was too low for him to get a glimpse, so he opted to touch it. Whatever it was, it was very soft. Almost nonexistent if it were not the featherlight pokes into his palm. He was about to put a name to it when Furukawa squealed. His focus snapped to hers. Her eyes were wide open, and she stopped breathing. "What's wrong?"

"Squeak! Nothing. Squeak! The beach. Right. The beach. Shall - squeak - we?" Furukawa spoke rapidly.

"Y-yeah. Let's go." Whatever that soft thing was, it was there no more.

After both of them split the bill, he got up and helped Furukawa from her seat. Even he was the one standing and she was the one sitting, she towered over him. He had to raise his head to meet her pretty amber eyes. Izuku had grown a few centimeters in the past few years, rendering him around 170 centimeters. Furukawa was approximately a meter taller than him. Not that he minded. Rather, he thought it was just another cool aspect to her.

She accepted his hand. He pushed the door open for her, waiting for her to exit so he could flash another warning glare at every racist.

Once at the beach, they resumed their conversation. Izuku wanted to be upfront from the get go. Though he avoided details about his quirk and All Might, he told her about Kacchan and his experiences from U.A. In return, Furukawa described her parents and hobbies. She liked collecting plushies of all kinds of animals. Her favorites were those of foxes and dolphins. When she spotted a seashell washing up on the shore and rushed forth, he did not doubt her one bit.

Instead, from a distance, he smiled at the scene. With one hand, she held the daffodil bouquet close to herself, while with the other, she struggled to wash the conch of sand. Izuku found this action to be cuter than any animal plushie. Furukawa really was a sweet girl. He enjoyed her company, so when he approached her to help her clean the shell, he was delighted that she accepted readily.