Since entering the human world, there had been countless moments where Shouto had found himself feeling lost.

However, he had never felt it as strongly as he did standing in Izuku's kitchen surveying the numerous pots, pans and kitchen utensils that he had laid out in front of him. The cold reflective silver of the metallic objects was almost mocking his inability to determine their uses in their vague similar appearances yet strikingly different structures.

Being on his own in the house every day while his new friends went to work, Shouto had found himself intently watching daytime television at regular intervals, trying his best to take in any information about human culture that could be useful. A lot of cultural references and attempts at humor went over his head and he often found himself puzzled and intrigued as he watched the peppy hosts chuckle or spare a sympathetic glance upon hearing remarks made by their guests, most of which were colourful and unusual characters. Some had even possessed the same kind of unnatural hair colours that he was slowly growing accustomed to seeing on Izuku and a couple of his friends.

One or two had even more extreme deviations in appearance compared to other humans, Shouto had observed. For example, he had recently learned about tattoos and piercings. Naturally, curiosity took hold of Shouto and he found himself wanting to ask Izuku for more information about these body modifications, to find out if they meant anything in particular that he should be aware of, such as a warning to stay away. He hadn't had a good opportunity to broach the subject yet though and he wasn't sure if doing so would illuminate his otherworldliness to the humans. So he had so far wondered about it in silence.

Having watched his fair share of daytime television over the past fortnight, Shouto had chanced upon quite a few cooking show segments. He had quickly become engrossed, finding the human food preparation process to be strange and more than a little excessive, but entirely fascinating.

Humans didn't have to eat their food as quickly as possible. Nothing was threatening to take it away, so they put a lot more time and effort into the look and taste of it. That was one of the things about human culture that Shouto found to be just as whimsical as the human behaviours his mother had described in her stories. Watching skilled chefs create aesthetically pleasing dishes seemed almost like watching an artist go to work with their paint brushes, pouring meticulous care into every detail of their craft.

It also seemed as if food held a great deal of emotional significance in human culture, beyond what the act of giving food meant in mer culture. Shouto had watched people give food to their loved ones when they were sick or to their partners and families after a stressful day, he'd seen friendships form or strengthen over shared snacks and talk show hosts tear up at meals that reminded them of their childhood. Cooking a meal seemed like the perfect way to thank Izuku and his friends for all of their hard work.

There was just one slight issue: Shouto had been too entranced by the act of cooking to actually take in and remember any of the recipes or instructions from the numerous food programs he'd watched.

The chefs had made it look easy enough, so he was sure he'd be fine once he got started. He just needed to decide what to cook, which equipment to use and figure out how to make the fire come out.

Looking through the cupboards, Shouto decided on a dish he'd seen the humans cooking called 'pasta'. It seemed simple enough from what he'd seen, he just had to start the fire, put the weird pale yellow shapes into the deep, round shaped metal pot and then throw a bunch of other things in with it for flavour and then he could leave it and go find something to do until it finished cooking. With a decisive nod, Shouto set about gathering the pasta and some things to add to it to make the taste more interesting.

Once he had put all of his ingredients together in a pile on the counter, Shouto determined that he should probably put away the pots and pans that he wasn't going to use. Shouto grabbed one of the pots ready to put it away, then froze in place, his expression morphing into one of confusion.

He couldn't remember which pots and pans went in which cupboards or what order they went in. Humans could be very particular about where their things were kept and how they were arranged and he didn't want to mess it up and cause offence. He'd witnessed first hand how antsy and distressed humans could become if they couldn't find what they needed and he definitely didn't want to put any of his new friends in that situation.

It would probably be a safer bet to leave the items where the humans could see them and let them arrange them the way they liked later. If they wanted him to, he would help, Shouto decided. He slowly, carefully placed the pan he was holding back down on the kitchen counter and gently moved them to the side before grabbing the pot he intended to use and placing it on the stove. That was the ingredients and cooking apparatus sorted, now he just had to figure out how to start the fire.

Backing away from the stove, Shouto crossed his arms and leaned down to get a good view of the various buttons, squinting slightly as he tried to figure out what the symbols above them meant. It seemed as if the circles indicated which one of the four metal rings would ignite, but he wasn't completely confident in that assumption as there was also a dial encircled by numbers that was vaguely reminiscent of the one he'd seen on a safe in a movie and one he'd seen in a much less pleasant memory, but he'd rather not give that one too much thought. In any case, he couldn't figure out for the life of him why a device that cooks food would need a lock like that.

He knew that he had to push the small button on the far right as part of the fire summoning process, he had seen Tenya do that before. If anyone had seen the small twitch his shoulders did at the loud clicking that emitted from it the first time someone had pushed that button in his presence he would have vehemently denied it, but if anyone had noticed that time or the few times after when he was still getting used to it, they hadn't brought it up.

Shouto could hear a clock ticking away in the distance and he knew that the longer he stood staring, the less time he had before someone would come home and his surprise would be ruined. He had to act quickly so he just decided to go with his instincts, grabbing the dial that he assumed was connected to the back right ring firmly in his left hand and twisting it while the index finger of his right hand slammed down on the button and he cringed slightly at the loud clicks that rang out into the empty kitchen.

For the first four clicks, nothing happened and Shouto began to grow concerned at the faint hissing noise and strange smell that seemed to be coming from the cooker. He was about to step away from the appliance that he had no doubt broken and run outside in search of someone who could help when a flame erupted from the stove top with a loud pop.

Shouto flinched, his heart beating wildly against his rib cage and air flooding into his lungs in a sharp gasp as the fire burst out towards him before settling into a steady flow. He very slowly let go of the dial, his hand brushing cautiously against the plastic. When he was sure that the flames weren't going to change in any way, he let out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding and moved to reach for the pot he had chosen to cook his meal in and place it over the flame.

The pasta bag crinkled loudly as Shouto grabbed it and the texture of the plastic felt strange against his skin, it sent a shiver of discomfort through him, but he managed to ignore that and press on. As he was about to tip the contents of the bag into the pot, he paused, his brow furrowing as he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he was forgetting. He placed the bag down gently on the counter and took a step back, staring back and forth between the flames brushing against the bottom of the metal pot and the ingredients he had gathered waiting on the side board.

The feeling that something was missing was growing more and more with each passing second, but no answers were coming to Shouto. With a frustrated sigh, he decided that what he had would just have to do and if it was wrong, at least he had tried. He picked up the pasta again, watching in fascination as the dry pieces hit the stainless steel edges of the pot with loud clinking noises and bounced slightly before settling in a pile at the bottom.

Once he had emptied the entire packet, he set the plastic aside and added some of the seasonings he had collected from the cupboards, pausing each time to try and read the unusual words on the labels with amusement and wonder. Shouto had never had to add anything to his food before eating it before, but it seemed pretty common for humans to do so. They really were interesting creatures and despite everything, Shouto couldn't help but admire them and their seemingly endless potential for creativity.

One of the things that Shouto had remembered from watching morning TV cooking segments was that it was ok to leave the food to cook once the ingredients were all added. He wasn't entirely certain how long it could be left because the chefs on those programmes usually cheated by pulling out a version of the meal that they had already cooked before the show, but Shouto was sure it would be fine if he sat in the living room for a little while.

It wasn't long after he'd settled into his usual space that he realised he'd made a grave mistake trying to take on the task of cooking for the first time alone.

Less than five minutes into watching two peppy TV presenters banter back and forth about the latest entertainment news, a strange smell assaulted Shouto's senses. He shot out of his seat, his shoulders and back so tense it was bordering on painful. It was an awful, imposing smell and he reflexively reached up to touch the scar on his face as memories of burning flesh and panicked cries flashed in his mind.

Shouto forgot how to breathe and the only thing he could hear was his heart pounding in his chest, loud enough that he felt like it was happening in his brain. A sweat broke out on his skin, which only served to startle and confuse him further as he didn't know how he could feel moisture when he was nowhere near water. He stayed routed to the spot, unsure what was happening to his body and unable to move, terrified of the possibility that the symptoms might be yet another side effect of staying on land for too long. It felt like he might be dying and he was petrified just by the thought of it.

"What the fuck is going on here?!"

A familiar voice broke through the haze and Shouto tried to turn towards it, but all of his movements were slow and met with resistance, like he was fighting against a current beneath the waves on a stormy day at sea. He became vaguely aware of a ringing noise in the distance that he was sure would be loud and piercing if everything didn't feel so far away from him at that moment.

He reached out, not really knowing who or what he was reaching for, but was immediately distracted when he noticed how fiercely his hands were shaking. His eyes were drawn to the movement and the skin between his brows creased as he frowned at the unrestrained trembling, unable to figure out how to make it stop. It felt like there was some kind of disconnect between his brain and the rest of his body, which only made him feel more distressed.

"What's happening to me?" he mumbled, his words coming out slurred and distant. He continued to stare down at his hands with wide, frightened eyes, failing to even notice when the ringing sound cut out in the background and the house was silent again.

When a warm, heavy hand landed abruptly on Shouto's shoulder he flinched violently, stumbling backwards to get away from it with disjointed, clumsy movements and tripping over his feet a little. A sharp jolt of panic shot through him as he fell backwards, but he somehow managed to catch himself. His chest was rising and falling in noticeable, rapid movements.

"Shit, 'm not fucking qualified for this," a voice grumbled. A familiar face appeared in Shouto's line of vision and he vaguely registered it as one he knew, but it wasn't quite right. It was out of focus, blurred around the edges. Shouto could only make out blonde hair and angry eyes. From those features, his brain gradually came to the conclusion that it was Izuku's friend, Katsuki. But what would he be doing there?

Two blurred appendages were raised on either side of the person's face and although Shouto was not highly knowledgeable when it came to human gestures, it was slightly reassuring that he knew where the human's hands were.

"Ok, I'm not gonna touch you. See?" the voice said. "If you don't like being touched that's fine by me, I don't particularly wanna put my hands anywhere near you."

Shouto was ninety nine percent certain it was Katsuki.

The other person, who was almost definitely Katsuki, was crouching down to talk to him by now. Shouto could not recall sinking to the floor, but he must have because he vaguely noted that the surface beneath his legs felt a lot more solid and everything around him looked significantly taller. When had that happened?

"Do you know what's happening?" Katsuki inquired.

It took a few moments for the meaning of the words to register in Shouto's head, as if he was listening to them on a delay. Once he understood them, he shook his head, unable to force out a spoken answer.

Katsuki sighed, mumbling something too low for Shouto to hear. "You're having a panic attack," he explained in a louder voice.

"A w-what?" Shouto croaked out, pushing the words out between harsh breaths. "What's that?"

"How the fuck do you not-" Katsuki began, but seemed to cut himself off. He appeared to run a hand through his hair, exhaling loudly before trying again. "It's something your body does when it thinks you're in trouble, like fight or flight, but you have nothing to fight and nothing to run from so all that energy just goes into making you feel like shit."

Shouto's features scrunched in confusion. Why would human bodies have a function that leaves them vulnerable like this? And why hadn't he experienced this before when he was in danger on land? He'd felt panic before, but never like this. Why was it only happening now?

"That makes… no sense…" he responded, frowning deeper when his voice wouldn't quite come out the way he wanted it to.

"Ok, don't fucking believe me then, that's not important right now anyway," the voice responds harshly. "We need to get you breathing normally again."

"How-"

"Just copy me," the voice commanded. Shouto just stared, unfocused and unable to follow how Katsuki was breathing.

"I can't," Shouto replied. "Can't tell how you're doing it from here."

Katsuki sighed and Shouto heard him grumble something else under his breath that sounded vaguely like "Why do I have to be the one helping this idiot?"

Shouto just continued to stare at him, waiting for an answer.

"Ok, I'll tell you how this is gonna work,"Katsuki retried. His usual bossiness was there, but he seemed to be making an effort to keep his voice slow and steady. It seemed like he was genuinely trying to help, which Shouto appreciated. "I'm going to tell you when to breathe in and out and I'll count so you know how long to do it. Do you think you're capable of that?"

Shouto tried to focus and do as he was told, but it was hard to get his lungs to do what he wanted them to. Eventually, he managed a shaky exhale that kind of hurt a little on the way out and an inhale that felt like swallowing small rocks.

"Try breathing in through your nose, holding it for a few seconds and then out through your mouth," Katsuki instructed before going back to counting.

Shouto followed the instructions to the best of his ability, thanking the universe that the first human he'd met had at least taught him the basics of being human like how to breathe without gills. The first time Shouto did what Katsuki suggested, it was awkward. It felt weird to try and focus so much on something that his body normally did right naturally, without needing any kind of intervention. However, as he kept his attention on the sensation of air filling and exiting his lungs and the sound of Katsuki counting out the seconds, his breathing slowly became more manageable.

"You're safe," Katsuki said suddenly. Shouto almost lost his focus at the unexpected interruption to his counting. "Nothing here is going to hurt you," Katsuki continued. "Nothing bad is going to happen to you. You're safe. You're an idiot who should never be allowed near a kitchen again, but you're not in any danger anymore."

It was strange, hearing attempts at reassurance from someone who was usually so standoff-ish and cold towards him. Stranger still, Shouto found himself actually believing the words.

Shouto had never truly felt safe before, not even when he was little and his parents were both still around to protect him. However, here in this new home, a small part of him had begun to believe that no actual harm would come to him. It was a realisation that stunned him, shocked him back into reality like a cold bucket of water to the face. And before he knew it, the world didn't seem so far away anymore, breathing didn't feel like such a difficult and painful task. He could feel that he was still shaking and there was still an unpleasant knot of nerves sitting in his chest, but he knew that the worst of it was over.

When Katsuki noticed that Shouto had significantly calmed down, he stood.

"I'm not leaving, just getting something," he explained, his voice tired. "I'll be back in a few seconds."

"Ok," Shouto responded quietly.

While Katsuki was gone, Shouto reached behind himself to grab the edge of the sofa and dragged his body - that suddenly felt heavier than it had all morning - up onto the soft surface. He tried his best to settle into a comfortable position, but it was difficult to go back to acting casual when he'd just been through such a bizarre and exposing situation.

There were plenty of flaws and ugly parts to Shouto, he had thought he knew them all and how to hide them fairly well, it was what he'd been taught to do since he was a child after all. But this was something completely new. He'd been in situations that were out of his control before, but at least he had almost always been able to rely on his body to do what he wanted it to do.

The last time Shouto had felt anything close to the lack of control he'd just experienced, he'd been fresh out of the ocean attempting to walk on clumsy, unstable new limbs. He'd been trying to operate muscles and bones that he'd never had before. He'd felt weak and vulnerable as he repeatedly landed on the hot, scratchy sand and it terrified him that he needed to trust someone else to help him back to his feet until he'd gotten the hang of it. Similarly to that time, he'd had to rely on someone else and he didn't like that Katsuki had seen him like that, but it felt easier to accept this time. Shouto wasn't sure if that was because he'd barely had time to think about it in the heat of the moment or because he was beginning to accept the fact that he might be a little out of his depth here, that he might have to let people help him sometimes and try his best to trust that people won't always betray him.

Shouto sighed as he admitted to himself that maybe he should have asked Katsuki for help with the cooking thing. Even saying that they were on civil terms would be a bit of a stretch, but maybe if he had known Shouto was trying to do something helpful for Izuku, he would have agreed to at least give him instructions.

A weight settled on his shoulders again, but this time it was soft and it spread evenly across the expanse of them without being too heavy. He instantly recognised it as the blanket Izuku's mother had made and despite the surprise, he felt his tense muscles relax under the comforting warmth and the familiar, pleasant scent of the fabric. Katsuki sat down in the chair next to the sofa, holding a glass of water out towards Shouto.

"You should drink," he advised.

Shouto tentatively accepted the offering. "Thank you," he murmured, noting that his throat did in fact feel pretty dry. He drank from it slowly and carefully, stopping to look at Katsuki curiously when a thought occurred to him. "How did you know all that stuff?"

Katsuki sighed as if he was being inconvenienced, but Shouto could tell it was more like a reluctant acknowledgement of a conversation that they needed to have. "All what stuff?"

"About the panic attack," Shouto clarified.

"So you believe me now, do you?" Katsuki grumbled. "I know about them because my boyfriend has them a lot. Deku does too. But they aren't as fussy about people touching them so they aren't as much of a pain in the ass to help."

"Izuku has them?" Shouto really didn't like the thought of Izuku going through that. "Is it normal then? Is it ok to react like that to something?"

"Of course it fucking is," Katsuki immediately answered, his eyes lighting up with something fiery and defensive, much more like his usual self. "There's nothing shameful or wrong about it and if anyone says otherwise, they're a fucking moron and they can shove their irrelevant opinion right up their insignificant ass hole."

Shouto had a feeling this was something Katsuki had said to someone before, the response came way too quickly for it to not be something practiced and instinctual.

"So, I'm normal then?" Shouto asked, feeling the need to double check.

"I wouldn't go that far," Katsuki huffed. "For a start, I've never seen someone manage to make such a stupid mistake in a kitchen in my entire life." He reached behind him and pulled out a charred, mangled mess of melted plastic that vaguely resembled the empty pasta packet Shouto had placed on the counter earlier. He slapped it down on the coffee table in front of them like an over-eager police officer presenting evidence in a crime drama. "How did you not even notice that this was sitting directly next to an open damn flame?"

Shouto just stared at it, not even attempting to explain himself. The truth was, he hadn't been paying attention, he'd just put it down and forgotten about it in the midst of his confusion. If his father knew that he'd been so careless and had so quickly forgotten all of his training in vigilance, he would have gone into a violent rage.

"And even if this hadn't caught fire," Katsuki continued. "Whatever the hell was in that pot would have been eventually. And that would have been a lot less easy to put out.I mean, what the fuck were you even trying to do?"

Shouto felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "I was just trying to make a simple pasta dish."

"A simple pasta dish?!" Katsuki parroted in disbelief, irritation creeping into his expression. "It had cereal in it! And four fucking oranges! With the skin still on! You didn't even put any water in there! Anyone who tried to eat it would have needed emergency dental work! What were you thinking?"

Water. He knew it was missing something.

"I just wanted to do something for Izuku and his friends," Shouto explained. "I always hear you telling Izuku that he's doing too much for me and that I should be doing something to help make things easier for him and I agree. I don't like that Izuku has helped me so much and I haven't done anything in return. So I was trying to make dinner for everyone, to show that I am grateful for what he's done."

Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was fighting off a headache. "When I said that, I meant that you could help him financially. By getting a job. Not by almost burning his house down in a failed attempt at a shitty excuse for a meal."

"How do I get a job?" Shouto asked, ignoring that last part. If Katsuki knew of a better way to help Izuku, he would take it.

"I don't fucking know, go into town and hand out CVs or something," Katsuki responded impatiently.

"CVs?" Shouto questioned, the word sounding foreign to him.

"Ok, this is going nowhere," Katsuki conceded, standing from the chair. "Put some shoes on, we're going for a drive."

"To hand out CVs?"

"No not to hand out fucking CVs," Katsuki hissed, his patience from earlier nowhere to be found. "We're going to the store to get some groceries because you used up at least half of the food in the kitchen making your nightmare fuel. Then, I'm going to show you how to cook a meal that won't kill anyone and later, you, me and Izuku are going to have a conversation that should have happened the day that reckless bastard decided to bring home a stranger from the beach." He looked down at Shouto expectantly. "That sound good to you?"

Shouto nodded enthusiastically, relieved that he might finally be able to make some progress in paying Izuku back for his generosity.

"Sounds great," he replied with a soft smile.