Hello, long time no see, hope you're all well.
One day, Inko Midoriya, mother and budding artist, had a day without any planned events and decided to give her home a complete clean. With a microfiber cloth, she swiped the dust from every horizontal service. She vacuumed the living room rug. She polished the bathroom mirror and removed a hairball from the shower drain. Izuku was out on a run and though she was often careful about his space, she had too much momentum. Inko Midoriya pushed into Izuku's room, remade the bed, gathered his laundry in a hamper, and arranged the mess of papers on his desk into a proper stack. Returning a pencil to its appropriate drawer, Inko Midoriya noticed a baggie full of pills among the pens and highlighters. A little sticker announced, AUNT NORIKO'S GENUINE PILLS FOR MALE GROWTH. TAKE ONE DAILY A MONTH FOR IMPRESSIVE RESULTS. The feeling encountered wasn't quite panic or embarrassment. Neither outrage but rather an amused shock. She slid the drawer shut, went to the kitchen, and poured herself a cup of hot tea.
"Dick pills?" She said, aloud to herself. "What should I say to that boy?"
Izuku arrived later. Endorphins and excited blood gave him a renewed and happy step. He walked into the kitchen nearly bouncing.
"Hi, mom!" He said, pouring himself a glass of water, emptying it promptly. "What's up? You look kinda serious."
Inko coughed into a fist. "Izuku, I wanted to ask you about something."
"Sure, mom."
"I was cleaning the house and I, uh, gave your room a glance and I found something a little concerning."
Izuku's entire body paused. A sinkhole of dread opened in his chest cavity. Oh, no, what could it be? Did she look at my computer? There are some incriminating photos. There's a photo of my junk Tsuyu asked me to take but forgot about. I would have to run away from home if Mom found it. Good thing it's super hidden in the folder "Private."
"I found these pills." She continued. "For, uh, male growth."
No, no, no, no. No way. His face, body, and heart paused. It was not an explicit photo of himself, but so close and just as incriminating. For a moment, he wished he bought actual drugs, so that at least his mother might have thought, "My goodness, Izuku's become such a bad boy!" But now, something terrible, shameful, and significant had just altered his relationship with his mother. Some part of his adolescence perished there and then. No, no. I do not want to participate in this conversation. He opened his mouth to defend. "Mom-"
"I really wish your father was around for these sorts of hurdles. This seems like a father and son conversation."
"You're so right, mom! I'll send him an email or we should just wait until he's back!"
"That could be weeks from now! Izuku, it's a sensitive age you're in. Your acclimating to your body or rather, maybe, your esteem is still adjusting to your body. We all go through it!"
"Mom, please. Just-"
"No, Izuku. Hold on. I'm gonna lecture you. This is an important lesson. Anyways, yes, even if you might be unhappy about your body, you've got to learn to accept it! Maturity means looking at a disappointing truth and letting that truth be!"
She halted suddenly. "Wait! Maybe not disappointing! I'm sure it's fine! Most men are very average."
Izuku threw his hands over his ears, defending himself like a cornered boxer. "Mom! Please, please. Pump the brakes!"
"It's a tough pill to swallow. Oh, wait, I didn't mean that as a pun. But I know your tough. You're a very tough kid. Which is why I'm so confused! Why do have these, these...dick pills?!"
"No, mom!" Izuku crumpled to the floor. "You don't have to say it aloud!"
"You weren't ever insecure about what you looked like as a kid. But... maybe, I understand now. You're thinking about sex and girls and nudity. And you might be thinking, what will she think? What if I'm not impressive? Your average phallus is more than satisfying. Pills aren't the answer, Izuku. It's about finding somebody that accepts you, through and through."
Izuku's face wobbled between confusion, embarrassment, and helplessness. Shivering tears gathered at his eyes.
"Mom, please, you're killing me. You've put your foot on my throat. I'm dead. I died a minute ago. I've never been so embarrassed." He muttered.
Inko stood from her chair. "It's okay, son. You don't have to be embarrassed. I am a hundred percent sure that you and your penis-"
"Mom! Time out! Hold it! I'm begging you. Stop, stop, stop, stop. I can explain. Here's the truth. An old lady, a little old lady, she grabbed me while I was out shopping. She grabbed my coat and she wouldn't let go and I didn't want to shove her off. She was old! Fragile! And she showed me those pills and she said if I didn't buy them, she wouldn't let go! I was caught in a bind! I got scammed! That's it! That's it. I wasn't gonna use them. I'm not concerned about my body image. Please, mom."
Inko looked at her poor son, punished and overwhelmed on the kitchen tile. "Oh. Well, why did you keep them?"
"I don't know. I just threw them in my desk and forgot about them."
Inko mulled his answer deciding whether to believe him, to press inquisition but his face was honest and mortified. She had no reason to torture him further. "Okay, I believe you." She said finally.
"Really?"
"Yes."
Izuku kneeled on the cold floor. "Thank you, mom! Thank you! I appreciate your mercy."
"Okay, Izuku, just get off the floor."
He rose to his feet and wiped away some stray tears.
"Uh, while we're having this sort of open discussion. Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"
"Huh?"
"Well, since I've been busy with my artwork I just feel like I should check up on you, make sure you're okay. Is anything bothering you?"
Izuku sat at the table across from his mother. He feigned a look of thoughtfulness. In fact, he had something very pressing to tell her. I've got to tell her about Tsuyu. How should I approach this? She got kind of worried about those pills. I don't want to cross any lines here. Tsuyu and I have had a good amount of freedom because nobody has suspected us being of, uh, actively romantic. This might put a little pressure and caution on the whole thing. But, we've been going out for a while now. It's about time to level things up, isn't it? Tsuyu thinks so, after all. Me too, honestly. I'm ready.
Izuku cleared his throat. "Well, you know, mom. There is something I've been meaning to tell you." He linked his hands formally on the table like an executive.
Inko stared with curiosity. "Yes?"
"See, uh, this might be unexpected but there's somebody I'd like you to meet. Actually, I was wondering if she could come over for dinner."
"She?" Inko yelped.
Izuku's heart began to throb in suspense. "Y-yes, she's a she. And, I, well, we, yes, w-we've been, you see, we've been going on some dates."
He watched his mother's jaw unhinge.
"And at this point, y-y-you know, I guess you could say that she's my girlfriend. She wants to meet you and I'd like you to meet her. Over dinner, possibly. How's that sound?"
Inko sat without movement for some seconds. Her eyes did not change direction. Izuku was unsure what sort of response this was. He'd never seen his mother so flummoxed. Eventually, with the motions of a rusty machine, she began to nod her head.
"That's a yes?"
She continued to nod.
"And she can come over for dinner? Is tonight okay?"
The same.
"I can cook. Or, I can order something. You want Chinese?"
Another nod. Izuku stood up.
"You know, mom. I get that you're surprised. I was surprised when things started to develop. You and I tend to freeze up. How about you take a nap? Here, grab my arm."
Izuku walked his mother to her bedroom and gave her a light push forward. She eased forward with miniscule steps and Izuku closed the door. He let a long exhale from his nostrils.
"What? Did she think it was impossible for me to get a girlfriend?" He grumbled, pulling his phone out to call Tsuyu.
Several hours passed, enough for the sun to lower and the sky to deepen into purple. Inko Midoriya stumbled from her room to find Izuku busy in the kitchen wiping the counters, dusting the cabinets and shelves. His face was diligent but smiling.
The surprise of Izuku revealing himself in a relationship remained too abrupt for absolute acceptance. Even as she tried to coax herself into a nap, Inko's brows furrowed and wiggled, unsure of what face to make. She fell into a troubled sleep. But now, watching her son at ease, in a bubbly mood unusual to his regular patterns of mood, a tenuous calm came over her.
"Oh, Mom." Izuku said, finally noticing. "Tsuyu will be here in twenty minutes, she said."
"Twenty minutes?"
"Yeah, the food should arrive in a few minutes and then I'll change. Then you can, uh, meet Tsuyu." He crumpled the rag in his hands.
"Tsuyu?" Inko pronounced her name with care.
"Asui Tsuyu." Izuku said proudly.
She raised her eyebrows, surprised by the confident tone of his voice. She sensed loyalty and care. Now, she was more than intrigued. "I see. Well, then, I think I'll take a shower."
When she emerged later, refreshed and dressed to make a proper impression, a pair of huge, unfamiliar shoes sat at their apartment entrance. Very interesting. Inko thought, then heard a giggle in the kitchen. A low, raspy giggle. She walked into the kitchen. It seemed she had interrupted some banter.
At the dining table sat a froggy girl with huge eyes and a polite, slight smile, bumping shoulders with Izuku, their chairs a little closer than Inko might've liked. Her dark green hair spilled across the front of her prim pink dress. Chinese food boxes made a small pyramid in the middle of the table; Inko wondered if Heroes ate more than the average person.
Tsuyu stood up and gave a swift bow. She faced Inko, fidgeted, swept her bangs with (Was she nervous? Inko noticed) and offered her hand to shake. Inko accepted and met hands, amused at how Tsuyu's huge hands wrapped around her own. She's pretty. Inko considered. In an unconventional way. Does my son have a type? I can't extrapolate. She seems nice though. Green hair is a plus.
"Hi, Asui-san. Nice to meet you."
"Hello. Tsuyu's fine if you like."
"Tsuyu then."
Izuku watched them exchange formalities somewhere between jittery excitement and bad nerves. One could never guess how moments like these played out but he trusted both his mother and Tsuyu as considerate people lacking crueler intentions. More than anything, the atmosphere was simply weird. Two very separate worlds were colliding. The way Izuku acted with Tsuyu was one way, with his mother another very different way and now he would have to play both or neither. He set the table with quiet motions, trying not to disturb any harmony happening between them. They sat, said thanks, and began to pull noodles from boxes into bowls. Tsuyu and Izuku on one side; Inko on the other.
"So, Tsuyu," Inko began, "what is your Quirk, if you don't mind me asking?"
Tsuyu finished a long, greasy slurp of noodles. "I just have to say. This lo mein is very good." She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. Izuku was charmed by the ladylike manner in which she cleaned her lips and chin. Tsuyu continued.
"You haven't guessed at all?"
Inko cocked her head. "Is it something I can guess?"
"Do I look like any certain animal?"
Inko squinted. "Is this a trick question?"
"I have the appearance and abilities of a frog."
"What kind of frog?" Inko said. "Like a tree frog?"
"Frogs, generally. I'm amphibious. My skin is dewy and I decline into near hibernation every winter."
Inko chomped into an eggroll, covered her mouth to speak. "You don't look very froggy."
Tsuyu shrugged. "I suppose it depends on who you're talking to. Kids growing up made a lot of fun about my frogginess."
"How terrible! You know," Inko said, motioning with chopsticks, "Izuku was also bullied terribly, pretty much all of his adolescence up until last year."
Izuku inhaled a thumb sized chunk of eggroll. It wedged in his throat and his airflow stopped. He threw his hands up at his throat. Is this the end? Does All for One finish right here? Tsuyu slapped his back with a big, strong hand and the eggroll ejected onto the table. Inko levitated it into a trashcan across the room. They were all too nonchalant about it.
"Mom!" Izuku gasped.
"Well, it's true. It was pitiful. But I'm so glad now." She said, her voice heavily sentimental.
"I'm taking good care of him." Tsuyu said, then shoveled lo mein into her mouth.
Inko turned her attention to Izuku. "How did you two meet then?"
"Very commonplace. We just have class together. It's a small class." Izuku said.
Tsuyu interjected. "We experienced a mutual attraction."
The door rang, pin-pon. Inko excused herself to check the door. Izuku turned to Tsuyu.
"This has been less eventful than I expected." He said.
"Were you expecting conflict?" Tsuyu asked.
"I don't know. Maybe I was waiting for a twist or a surprise."
"Just now you almost choked on an eggroll."
"I was expecting things to go wrong in an interpersonal way. Like a clash of personalities."
"Your mother seems rather mellow. And, I'm on my best behavior. I'm a proper girl, after all."
"I've just been feeling like everytime we meet something lewd or outrageous happens."
"Maybe I'll jerk you off under the table while your mom remains oblivious, like in porn videos." Tsuyu teased.
Izuku blanched, imagined the scene, considered it for a millisecond, then pushed it out of his head. "We can compromise. How about… I kiss you for a few seconds until my mom turns the corner into the kitchen."
So, they kissed with tender shoves, locking salty lips, and holding each other's thighs with just a placed hand, as if to only increase the amount of touch and to say, Let me hold on to you. These several seconds felt longer, maybe because it was a nearly perfect moment. Their relationship was recognized and thriving and there was nothing, at least there at dinner to fear. Inko returned to see the two chewing quietly on mouthfuls of noodles and beef. Only hints of blushes remained on their cheeks.
On this Saturday, while other students of UA pursued their leisures - flipping through a romance novel (Hagakure), playing solitaire on his computer (Tokoyami), browsing lewd websites (Mineta) - Ochaco Uraraka stood outside of a train station passing out fliers advertising the grand opening of a fried chicken restaurant several blocks down the street. She said, several hundred times, "Here! Thank you! Right over there, please!" The reactions of the accosted commuters ranged from aggressive repulsion to genuine interest, though mostly she was ignored and her words might as well had never exited her mouth. But, the pay was alright and the work was not embarrassing or strenuous and after this job plus several others in a few weeks she would have enough money to buy something. And not just anything – like a new toaster for the family or a replacement hose for the toilet, which hissed for hours – but something personal, something to brighten up her youth, her teenage days. What? She hadn't decided what.
Presently though, another throng of passengers, movers, and pedestrians emerged from the subway exit into the street, where Uraraka braced herself for the noise and the occasional shoulder shove. Soon, her position was overcome with a frenzy of overlapping voices, cell phone sounds, hard footsteps on the harder concrete. Dispersing, funneling, streaming in all directions, towards unseen avenues, corridors, and corners. This continued for a long minute and a half while Uraraka shoved papers into the faces of random people until, almost suddenly, everybody was out of eyesight and in transit to their destinations. It was quiet again. So quiet, that Uraraka heard her stomach squeal with afternoon hunger. She looked at her phone.
It's been six hours now, eleven to five with some breaks for the bathroom, but no lunch. And, I feel it! I'm so hungry and I can feel myself starting to get cranky about it. Good thing they said I could leave once I'm done with this last stack of fliers. Just twenty-one, twenty-two left. But on the topic of having no money, I should just get home and eat leftovers. Throw an egg and salt over some rice? Ugh, lame! But meals and snacks add up! Frivolous spending leaves serious holes in the pockets. Better to speed home and keep away from any temptation.
Another burst of commuters swarmed around and past her. With stiff jabs she allocated fliers into the hands of pairs of friends, weekend office workers, bored men, girls with perfect skin, mutants, foreigners. And when all of these peoples disappeared, so had the fliers. Hugely sighing, Uraraka stretched both hands over her head and felt her abdominal muscles squeeze into her empty stomach. She began to remove the hat and apron that signified her as an employee.
"Uraraka?" the voice of a colleague said.
She turned around to see Iida in casual dress and demeanor with a big hand up in salutation.
"Oh!" she said. "Hi, Iida."
She threw her hands, holding the hat, behind her with swift embarrassment. The apron was still in sight advertising YAMANASHI'S WONDER FRIED CHICKEN. IIda eyed her. Her mind raced. How gross and plebeian for a Hero to be working a part-time! And if front of Iida, too. He must be thinking, "Oh, what a bummish girl! I can't believe I ever thought she was cute or whatever, she's so plain and lacking means.
"Maybe you don't know this, Uraraka," he began. "But according to the UA student handbook no student is allowed to find employment outside of school assigned internships, fellowships, and agency placements.
"You don't say?" Uraraka said and grit her teeth.
"I'm quite a stickler for the rules." Iida said.
"Ah, well, is it so necessary to tattle on me? I was just trying to remedy some money issues at home and I wasn't even aware of such a rule!"
Uraraka's stomach growled very loudly. So loudly that Iida tilted his head to see where the noise had come from. He could only see Uraraka staring at the floor, pretending to take interest in a divot in the concrete.
"I won't tattle." Iida said.
"You won't?"
"On one condition - you let me take you out to a quick dinner." He said this nearly as a shout, as if really forcing himself to declare it for all, but mostly himself, to witness that he had done it. His hands flew to his hips as he struck a pose of victory. Wasn't he on the brink of securing a date? By all accounts, yes. Ochacho was flummoxed by how willing and smooth Iida had just shown himself to be. And, yes, too, there was relief and a bit of excitement at the prospect of a free dinner.
The truth about a crush is that it lingers and goes stagnant if it doesn't develop it becomes love-sickness, a real pain, that inflicts itself on you every time you see your crush or feel near to your crush, which is often because a crush is an obsession, usually. How does it cure? How does it heal into a scar, upon which you can look fondly or with deep cringing. Nobody really knew, especially not Uraraka. But she had said before, that she wanted to get better, climb out of her rut. Isn't this good? Where does it go from here if say yes? A date isn't a promise or a deal on either end. Right now, it's a shared meal. Is it brave to say yes? Is it cowardly? I can't register the implications on my conscience, right now. All I know is that I'm hungry and Iida, my friend, who will be kind to me no matter what but maybe would like to be my boyfriend, has offered me a meal.
"Sure," she said. "That'd be okay."