Ume yawned widely as she waited for the train to come to her stop. She had stayed up much too late the night before—who knew Tamaki could be so…talkative? Once she had finished eating dinner with her family, they had texted basically non-stop. Until he had mentioned around 1am that they would have to bring snacks to Mirio's. She had decided to make homemade frosted sugar cookies.

She giggled as she looked back through their message stream. He had responded with a slew of shocked face emojis when she had told him of her late night sugar cookie endeavor, before admitting that he usually just stopped at a convenience store beforehand, and finally asked if he could have some of the sugar cookies for himself. The reusable shopping bag next to her was stuffed full of her homemade confections, with a small bag on top holding a dozen cookies just for Tamaki. No one would ever need to know she had chosen the best ones for him.

When her stop was announced and the train jerked to a stop, she stood and exited alongside the other passengers, hauling the bag of cookies over her shoulder.

Tamaki was leaning against the side of the station, waiting for her when she exited, two bags bursting with junk food held in one hand. He gave her a small, hesitant smile when he saw her before pushing off from the wall and heading towards her. She felt a blush start to creep up her neck as her eyes scanned him from head to toe.

I've never seen him in street clothes before. He looks… cute.

He was wearing a seafoam green crew neck sweatshirt that seemed to be a size too big, a pair of slim legged jeans with the cuffs rolled a couple of times to accommodate the high tops of his matching Nikes.

"H-hi," he said quietly, stopping a few feet away from her, brows raised when he noticed the bag over her shoulder. "Are those all cookies?!"

She chuckled, swatting at his hand playfully when he reached for the bag.

"No cookies until you've had lunch!" she admonished.

"I was… I was going to carry it for you," he admitted, cheeks reddening as his shoulders drew up.

"You're sweet," she smiled softly, before pointing a finger at him accusingly and narrowing her eyes. "But I won't have you taking credit for my late night hard work!"

She heard him chuckle softly as he turned away, leading the way to Mirio's house.

She looks so cute. It's not fair! Why does she have to look so cute?!

Tamaki glanced at the girl next to him as she adjusted the bag of cookies to her opposite shoulder. He had only ever seen her silver hair down or in a braid, but today she wore it in two messy space buns on either side of the crown of her head. Fly away hairs floated on the breeze and caught the late morning sunlight, colors shifting and shimmering. Her chunky knit oversized sweater was navy blue and had a large sunflower knit into the front, paired with slightly baggy jeans with rips in the knees and a pair of white slip-on shoes. She looked comfortable, and unbearably cute.

Say something! You texted her all night and now you can't say anything?!

He cleared his throat and Ume glanced over at him, pink eyes catching the light and making him blush again.

"I-I like your sweater," he managed to mutter, looking down at his shoes to hide behind his hair.

"Thanks!" she replied brightly, then, "I uh, I like your shoes."

"Thanks."

It was quiet again, and he felt the need to fill the silence between them. He didn't want her to think he didn't want to talk to her after they had spent the whole night texting each other. He just had trouble making words come out of his actual mouth. Texting was so much easier.

"Um. If Mirio or Nejire get to be too much today, just… just let me know, ok?"

"Thanks, Tamaki," she said quietly, and he looked up quickly enough to see her smile at him. "It should be fine. You're a good buffer," she informed him with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Buffer?"

"Yeah. Think of different people's emotions like a scale. You're good at balancing them out. I trust you to keep me comfortable," she explained, a blush spreading behind her freckles.

No pressure.

The Togota home was a fairly modest two story home situated in the center of a quiet subdivision. It didn't look like much from the outside, but to Tamaki it was basically his second home. He didn't bother to knock, opening the front door and ushering Ume inside ahead of him.

"Hey!" Mirio crowed, face popping out of the wall of the entryway.

Ume shrieked and jumped up from where she had been bent over to take off her shoes, hand clutched to the front of her sweater.

"Oh, hey! What did you bring?" Mirio asked, ignoring Ume's glare as he stepped fully from the wall.

Tamaki held up his bags of snacks, and Mirio ignored him in favor of the bag Ume now held in front of her.

"Oh, man! Cookies?!"

"Homemade," Ume confirmed, holding the bag out for Mirio to take.

"Your offering has been accepted," Mirio proclaimed solemnly, giving a small bow before taking the bag from Ume.

"Oh, wait!" she called as he made to leave the entryway, darting forward and grabbing a bag of cookies off the top, tossing them lightly to Tamaki. "Proceed."

Mirio lofted the bag above his head, leaving the entryway and heading towards the kitchen, chanting "Snacks! Snacks! Snacks!" in alternating octaves. Ume followed him, cackling and joining his chant. Tamaki groaned, deciding that maybe Mirio and Ume were too much alike.

Yes. Definitely too much alike.

Tamaki winced at Mirio's exclamations. He and Ume had been engaged in a heated one on one tournament on the gaming system for nearly an hour now, shouting while he and Nejire watched in horror.

"Where did Ume learn to curse like that?" Nejire whispered, seemingly awestruck.

Ume and Mirio were shouting again before he could even begin to think of answering his friend. Ume had managed a pretty difficult combo, her thumbs flying on the controller buttons and her eyebrows drawn down in concentration. She whooped in celebration when her character stood victorious and unscathed over Mirio's.

"No way! Aw man, how did you do that?!" Mirio complained, still with a large smile on his face.

"Middle school champion, at your service," Ume replied, offering a dramatic bow before picking up the piece of pizza Tamaki had sat on a plate next to her while she was preoccupied.

"You sure you didn't cheat?" Mirio taunted, grin growing wider.

Ume looked offended, brow furrowed and lips pursed. Tamaki found it oddly adorable… Until she picked a pepperoni off her slice of pizza and flicked it at Mirio's face. Predictably, Mirio activated his quirk, causing the pepperoni to pass through him and hit the wall with a greasy slap! It slid down the wall to the floor, leaving an oily grease stain all the way down.

"Oh no!" Ume exclaimed, covering her face in horror while the other three laughed quite loudly. "I'm sorry! I'll clean it up!" she assured, scrambling to her feet and heading to the kitchen.

Tamaki was still chuckling when he entered the kitchen to find her holding a wad of paper towels under the faucet.

"Having fun?" he asked once he had sobered up a bit.

She shot him a shy smile over her shoulder before shutting off the water and squeezing the extra water out of the paper towel.

"Yeah. I feel bad about the mess, though."

"Don't," he urged her. "We always clean up before we leave."

She simply nodded her head, staring at a nick in the countertop next to her and picking at it with one finger. Tamaki stepped closer, reaching out to grasp her elbow gently.

"You ok?" he asked softly, hoping she could hear him over Nejire and Mirio cackling in the other room.

She peered up at him through her lashes and smiled, making her nose crinkle in that way he liked. She nodded, tilting her head up to look at him fully. It struck him suddenly how much shorter she was than him.

"I… Thanks. For inviting me today," she murmured. "It-it's been a long time since I just…hung out," she admitted with an embarrassed shrug of her shoulders.

He finally dropped his hand, starting to feel a little self-conscious about touching her for so long. He shoved his hands into his pockets so she wouldn't see them shaking.

"I'm happy you're here," he assured her, smiling through his burning blush.

Mirio tried to bite back his grin as he watched Ume try to decide where to sit. Before she and Tamaki had returned from the kitchen with matching flaming cheeks, he and Nejire had devised a plan. "Operation: Movie Snuggles!" Nejire had dubbed it. He sat against one arm of the larger couch in his living room, while Nejire laid against the other arm with her legs stretched out and her feet in his lap. The armchair was full of snacks–open bags of chips, a plate of Ume's awesome homemade cookies, and a few unopened cans of soda and bottles of water. Sure, she could move all that stuff and sit there. But why bother, when there was an open spot on the two seater right next to Tamaki?

He smirked to himself when she finally seemed to decide that next to Tamaki would be fine. Mirio had to work very hard not to laugh when the pair turned red again, each of them shuffling to opposite ends of the small couch. He had to hand it to his long-time best friend, he had certainly picked a great person to have a crush on. Ume was certainly more outgoing than the indigo-haired boy (which, admittedly, wasn't a difficult feat), but reserved enough that she didn't draw unwanted attention. And her quirk! Emotion manipulation? Perfect for someone that had constant anxiety attacks! AlthoughTamaki hadn't had a panic attack at all in the week since they'd started interacting more with their silver-haired classmate, a fact that wasn't lost on Mirio.

Oh yeah! The plan's all coming together!

Tamaki saw Ume jump in time with the sudden appearance of the monster on screen from the corner of his eye. Maybe a creature feature horror movie wasn't the best idea. He had been subjected to so many of these thanks to Mirio that they no longer bothered him other than the occasional jump scare. But Ume either wasn't a fan of horror in general or had something against this particular movie. He was fairly certain she spent more time with her face hidden behind her hands than actively watching the movie, and she'd nearly jumped right off the couch in terror at least four times so far.

Should I comfort her or something? How do I do that without interrupting the movie?

He froze when he felt her hands clutch his upper arm suddenly. His heart was in his throat and the movie sounded muffled behind the blood rushing through his ears. She tucked her head between the back of his shoulder and the couch cushion, and he jerked away before he could stop himself.

"Sorry," she whispered, leaning back and pulling her hands into her lap.

"D-don't be," he replied quietly, trying not to disturb his two friends on the other couch. "You just surprised me."

She nodded but stayed where she was, leaning away with her hands twisting in her lap. Taking a steadying breath, Tamaki clenched his eyes shut before reaching across the distance between them and tugging on Ume's sweater sleeve. She was taken off guard and her arm bumped his. She peered up at him uncertainly, her pink eyes illuminated by the glow of the TV in the otherwise dark room. Tamaki offered her a shaky smile and she returned it shyly, wrapping her arms around his arm and tucking her forehead against his shoulder.

Tamaki tried very hard to concentrate on the movie, and not the silver-haired girl wrapped around his arm. He hoped she couldn't feel how hard his heart was beating, or that she wasn't scalded by the raging blush that surely covered him head to toe. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

—-

Mirio snickered and nudged Nejire, nodding his head towards the two seater sofa with a large grin. She hurriedly pulled out her phone and snapped a picture. The flash caught Tamaki's attention and he turned his head to them, eyes wide and cheeks flaming. Some time during their second movie (something other than a horror movie, at Tamaki's insistence), Ume had fallen asleep, slumped against Tamaki's side.

"N-neji! Stop that!" their shy friend hissed, trying to hide behind hair and shoulders but failing as he tried not to jostle the sleeping girl.

Mirio tried to hold back his laughter as he watched his friend flounder, he really did. But when Tamaki locked eyes with him and squeaked out a small "H-help!" he couldn't help himself. He threw back his head and laughed loudly.

Ume blinked her eyes blearily at the sound of someone laughing loudly—too loudly. She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and burrowing her face back into her pillow.

"Aaaw! That's adorable!" a jubilant voice squealed out.

Her pillow squeaked in response.

Wait.

Ume opened her eyes again, confused. Her pillow wasn't green. Her pillow didn't squeak. And it most certainly did not breathe. She looked up at Tamaki with wide eyes, a horrified blush creeping up her neck.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, shuffling as quickly as she could to the opposite end of the two seater.

On the other couch, Mirio clutched his stomach and roared with laughter while Nejire simply watched on with a bright smile. Ume noticed the lack of sunlight in the room and shot up with a gasp.

"Oh no! What time is it?"

"Almost five!" Nejire chirped helpfully.

Ume groaned, flitting around and picking up any trash or dishes that had been left laying around.

"I need to get home. I can't be late for dinner!"

Mirio stood and pried the stack of plates from Ume's hands, smiling all the while.

"Go, we can take care of this," he commanded happily.

"Are…are you sure? I don't want-"

"Yeah! It's fine! Me and Neji can take care of it!"

Tamaki stood from his place on the small couch and stepped forward to touch Ume's elbow to gain her attention.

"I-I'll walk you home," he offered quietly, cheeks burning.

After collecting her empty cookie bag, and being accosted by Nejire for an exchanging of numbers and a promise to go shopping the following day, Ume and Tamaki finally headed towards the train station.

"I'm sorry," Ume whispered once they were a few blocks away from the train station.

Tamaki glanced at her curiously and when her pink eyes didn't meet his, he frowned.

"There's nothing to apologize for," he assured her quietly.

She didn't reply and not for the first time, Tamaki found himself wishing he wasn't so timid. If he was braver, he could have held her hand during the horror movie that Mirio had insisted they watch. He could have put his arm around her while she sat next to him on that tiny couch.

"Aren't you going to go home?" Ume asked uncertainly when she realized Tamaki was accompanying her to her train.

"I-I said I'd walk you home."

She smiled at him, her nose wrinkling and nodded.

The train ride was quiet, but not uncomfortable like it had been a few minutes prior. Tamaki didn't pull away when the jerky movements of the train bumped his shoulder with Ume's.

It turned out that Ume's home was only a few neighborhoods away from his own, though hers seemed newer and the houses were a bit larger. She stopped in front of a large two story home with a well manicured front lawn, and turned to smile at him.

"Thanks for walking me home," she said quietly, cheeks pink to match her eyes.

"I-I didn't mind."

They stood quietly for a moment, just looking at each other. Tamaki was about to say goodbye and end the awkward moment when a voice called to them from the front door.

"Hey, kids!"

A woman that looked remarkably like Ume but with brown hair instead of silver, stood smiling in the doorway, a brow raised as she watched them.

"Hi, mom," Ume called back.

"Tamaki, would you like to stay for dinner?"

He blushed furiously at the thought of Ume telling her mom about him, but nodded. Maybe this was one of those brave baby steps Mirio had told him about.

They entered Ume's home and took off their shoes in the entryway. Tamaki peered around curiously. Pictures lined the walls—pictures of Ume as a baby until now, pictures including her mother, and a silver-haired man that he assumed to be her father.

"It's nice to meet you, Tamaki," Ume's mother said once they had removed their shoes and moved out of the entry.

"N-nice to meet you," he replied quietly, giving a quick bow.

"Dinner should be done in about 30 minutes, I'll let you kids know when it's time to eat."

"Thanks, mom. We're going to go upstairs."

Upstairs? To her room?!

Tamaki followed Ume up the stairs timidly, noting that as they moved farther into the home there were less family photos and more artwork hung on the walls. It was all very eclectic.

"Well, this is me," Ume sighed, opening the door closest to the stairs and walking in to flop on the bed.

He stood near the door and observed her room silently. Her bed was pushed against two large windows on the side of the room opposite from the door, a desk sat against the wall immediately to the left of the door, covered in brightly colored paper and a stack of school books, on the wall above the desk was a shelf full of maneki-nekos—cats of every color waved their raised paw in unison, beckoning him and wishing him luck. What interested him the most was the ceiling, or what was hanging from it. Origami animals and flowers of every color imaginable hung on string from her ceiling. The construction paper on the desk made sense now.

"It helps me focus," Ume explained from her bed where she had been watching him. "When the emotions get to be too much. It's an outlet."

He just nodded, reaching up to touch a yellow mouse, sending it spinning on its string.

"You can sit down," Ume offered, sitting up and drawing her knees up to her chest.

He pulled out the chair from her desk and sat facing her bed, sitting on his hands to hide the way they were shaking. He had never been in a girl's room before.

"I uh… I have something I want to tell you. About my parents," she said quietly. "I know I said that day in the café that they were working late, but I lied. My dad doesn't work anymore."

Tamaki stayed silent, wondering where this was leading.

"A couple of years ago, my dad got sick. H-he's still sick."

"Is he ok?"

Ume squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, and Tamaki was horrified to see a couple of fat tears streak down her freckled cheeks.

"No. He has cancer," she explained, her voice sounding strained as she wiped at her cheeks.

Without thinking, Tamaki wheeled her desk chair closer to the bed and reached out for her hand. It was small enough that he could wrap his fingers around her hand and engulf it completely.

"Ume-"

"They tried a lot of different treatments in the beginning," she interjected softly. "Nothing really seemed to help and dad decided to stop. H-he said he's just tired," she shrugged. "I just…He has a weird sense of humor about it and I wanted to let you know before dinner."

Her fingers twitched in his and his thumb rubbed back and forth across the backs of her knuckles.

"What did your dad do before?"

"He worked as a therapist, kind of. Usually with kids and domestic abuse victims. But sometimes for heros, too. His quirk lets him read surface thoughts, so he was pretty good at it," she explained, continuing to wiggle her fingers in his grasp. "Mom works for an optician. Her quirk is colors, like how my quirk changes your vision, but hers is just the color. She helps colorblind people."

"Th-they both sound great."

Ume smiled up at him, and just as she opened her mouth to reply, her mom called up the stairs that dinner was ready.

"Tamaki, Ume tells me you have a pretty awesome quirk," her mother prompted after they had gotten settled at the table and Tamaki had been introduced to Ume's father.

Tamaki wouldn't have known the man was sick if Ume hadn't told him. His hair was a little thinner than it had been in the family pictures on the walls, and his gray eyes seemed a little dull. But mostly he looked tired, just like Ume had said.

He glanced across the table at Ume and found her glaring furiously at her mother with rosy cheeks.

"Manifest," he explained quietly. "If I can eat it, I can be it."

Ume's father made a thoughtful noise from the head of the table and Tamaki glanced over. The silver-haired man was peering at him with a furrowed brow. Tamaki quickly looked away. Knowing that he could read his thoughts was a little unsettling. He had watched enough chick flicks with Nejire to know that fathers usually weren't keen on their daughters bringing teenage boys into their homes.

"And you want to be a pro?" her father prodded.

Tamaki nodded, staring down at his plate and fighting against the tremble in his hands.

"I got my provisional license when I was in school," her father continued. "Then, I decided it was too dangerous for me and my quirk would be better suited to supporting the heroes instead. And now I've worked myself to death anyways," he chortled.

Tamaki nearly choked on the noodles in his mouth and quickly reached for his glass of water as Ume hissed out, "Dad!"

"Don't mind my husband," Ume's mother offered quietly, glaring playfully at her husband. "He's got a twisted sense of humor."

"I don't know if Ume's told you, but I'm terminally ill."

"Y-yes. I'm… I'm very sorry to hear that," Tamaki replied quietly, forcing himself to meet the man's eyes.

He waved off Tamaki's condolences, a small smile on his weary face.

"Death is natural, and something I deal with regularly in my own line of work."

"Dad," Ume uttered from across the table, fist clenched around her chopsticks and eyes on her plate. "Can we please talk about something else?"

Tamaki didn't miss the tremor in her voice, and wished once again that he was brave. He wished that he could bring himself to walk around the table and offer her a hug. Her mother took up a new topic of conversation, and Tamaki took a deep breath to steady his nerves before stretching his leg out under the table until his socked foot brushed against Ume's. She glanced up at him curiously and he pressed his foot down lightly on top of hers, ignoring the blush creeping across his cheeks and hoping she understood what he was trying to convey. After a moment, her lips quirked up and she wiggled her toes beneath his foot. He offered her a small smile in return, but didn't withdraw his leg.

"You ok?" Tamaki asked as he stood from slipping his shoes back on.

Dinner had finished quietly, and he hadn't lifted his foot from Ume's until they had stood to clear the table and rinse the dishes before loading them into the dishwasher. Ume appreciated his quiet and steady brand of comfort. Every brush of his arm against hers in the quiet kitchen had sent a wash of warmth through her body.

"Yeah," she replied quietly, smiling up him. "Thanks. For before," she continued, dipping her chin to try to hide her flushed face.

"I really am sorry," he mumbled, feet shuffling uncertainly, "about your dad."

"I-" Ume cut herself off, drawing her bottom lip in between her teeth and looking back up at him. "Don't tell Mirio and Nejire? Please?"

His purple eyes were intent on her face as he peered down at her and nodded. Activating her quirk, she felt nothing but concern radiating from him.

"Ok."

"Will you text me when you get home?" she requested, the flush deepening on her cheeks.

"Y-yeah, of course," he nodded, his own face tinged pink.

She shuffled around him in the small entryway to open the front door and smiled up at him once he had crossed the threshold.

"Guess I'll talk to you later, then."

"Yeah," he replied, hands finding their way into his pockets. "Bye."

"Bye," she answered, shutting the door once he had turned away.

"You were right, he is nice."

"Mom, you can't just spy on me like that," Ume whined, brushing by her mother on her way up the stairs.

Her mom chuckled as she followed Ume up the stairs to her bedroom, stopping to lean against the doorframe as her daughter settled in at her desk.

"What? I know how teenagers are." Her mother grinned, raising an eyebrow pointedly. "I had to make sure he wasn't trying to grope you on his way out."

Ume blushed furiously, refusing to meet her mother's eye as she folded a piece of purple paper on her desk top.

"It's not like that," she refuted hastily.

"Uh huh," her mom shrugged, pushing away from the door frame and pulling the door closed as she left. "If you say so!"

Ume breathed deep to push the blush from her face as she worked on her origami, but it was no use. Her mother's words had sent her imagination into overdrive. She had meant what she said when she told Tamaki that she looked up to him. She saw the constant turmoil within him and admired the way he managed to push it down to achieve his goals–but she had to be honest with herself. She thought the indigo-haired boy was ridiculously cute, and found his anxious and shy mannerisms endearing. The thought of his hands on her body in any sort of intimate way made her heart pound, and had her stomach flipping.

No way. There's no way he would like me like that.

Her phone dinged from her bed and she stood to retrieve it, snorting a laugh through her nose when she saw the message.

T: Don't let Neji bully you tomorrow. And don't believe any embarrassing things she says about me.

U: So you made it home safely?

T: I'm actually texting you from the trunk of someone's car.

Ume giggled and flopped down onto her bed, sending her next message of nothing but panicked faced emojis and mentally adding Tamaki's sense of humor to her list of reasons that she admired him.