Friday night in the 1-A dorms. Saturday morning, really, Jirou thinks, looking at the wall clock with guitars for hands. She rubs her eyes and sighs. There're dark circles under them, and it isn't just the smudged shadow of yesterday's eyeliner. Four a.m. The perfect time to find inspiration – or not.
She can't clear her ears out, too many mental Post-Its of snippets and structures drifting around in her mind. She got the basis of the melody last week and has been fleshing it out through the past five days, but now it just won't finish itself. She shakes her head sharply, the jacks bouncing. She's so tired of this. She's so close, but it's not coming together.
God. One more night, that's all she needs. One more *hour*, one good hour, with her ears cleared out and that mental piano tuned up and just a little focus, enough to get through this last important part where she finds the final piece that holds the whole composition together and finally gives it meaning. Gives it a reason to be written.
The only possible solution was coffee.
Down the flight of stairs to the common area and she trips on the last step, slewing around and hitting the wall with her cheek as she grips for a handrail that's no longer there-
There's a loud "DRRRRRRR!" and suddenly she's caught against something hard but soft, with strong arms hooking under hers. "Oof!"
Turning around, it's the class president, looking very big from this close. His blue hair's in a little disarray from the sudden rescue and his square glasses are very bright under the recessed lighting. Behind them his dark red eyes are wide and look down at her with concern. He's slowly letting her go, although she had barely registered that he was holding her – slowly, though, as though he's afraid she might still fall.
"Jirou! Are you all right? I saw you miss the step-"
"I'm fine, Pres," she says, catching her breath. "That was a pretty clutch move, though, I really thought I was gonna eat it."
"Well! We certainly wouldn't...want that?" He lets her go and puts a little distance between them, but he's still between her and the kitchen, one gigantic square fist on his hip and the other adjusting his glasses as he bends forward a bit. "Are you sure you're fine? You look, a bit…" He searches for a word that describes a combination of tired, disheveled and feverish. Suddenly, it hits him. "Oh, no! You're sick!," he booms out, and sweeps her up to deposit her on the couch. Pillow and blanket are deployed before she can even breathe, and although it's so sweet, he's also so funny, and she starts laughing despite herself.
He's already marched halfway to the kitchen but zooms back to kneel and puts a hand on her forehead. "Jirou! Can you hear me? She must be delirious, I have to-"
Jirou's definitely starting to lose it internally at this, but she can't let him think that she needs…an ambulance or something? What's he even planning to do? - and reaches a hand across a broad, T-shirted shoulder to hold him in place for a second or two, while she presses on her belly with the other and struggles to not just burst into insane guffaws in front of him.
He's looking at her with bemused concern but doesn't attempt to dash off anywhere, and Jirou gets the shaking under control and swings her legs off the couch so that they're face to face.
"Tenya," she says, and there's still a little laugh left in her voice. "You're such a nerd. Why would I be sick? Idiots don't get sick, right?"
"Jirou! Don't tell me you believe that old saying! There's no basis for it, and besides, neither I nor any of your classmates or teachers would believe for a moment that you are anything less than an amazing student! How can you even say that about yourself," he huffs under his breath.
She pulls a small grimace and looks to the side, hand going to twirl in her cable. "Um, I'm really fine, though, so….could you give me some space?"
"OH!" He stands up and looks around, finally after a few moments settling on lowering himself gingerly onto one of the lounge's short central tables. He's wearing shorts, Jirou notices. Just normal, blue UA athletic shorts like everyone else, but for Tenya, who's always so carefully dressed, it comes across as unusual. "Actually, are you all right?" She points at his legs. "Usually you don't dress so normally."
"Ahaha! This?" He smiles broadly and kicks his legs out straight in front of him, the tips of the exhaust pipes twinkling as he moves. The engines in his giant calves look unnatural, here in the ordinary light of an ordinary room, far from the context of the training ground. She looks at the class rep's happy, open face, relaxed and smiling in his white T-shirt, like any other teen. And then down at his legs, the engines huge and heavy, swelling under the skin. Carrying the weight of his dream, his sense of duty, and it occurs to her that his quirk is burdensome. "I woke up a while ago and couldn't get back to sleep, so I thought I'd come down here and get some water. But it would hardly be proper to walk through the common area in my pajamas, so I changed into this instead." He stretches his arms out, looks down, and frowns. "Is there something wrong with it?"
Out of his sight, Jirou rolls her eyes. "No, it just makes you look more like a student and less like a dorm dad, you know?"
"I suppose I do dress somewhat formally, compared to the rest of our classmates." He looks down at his legs, wiggles his toes in their plus-size house slippers. "I need to be responsible. Dependable. All the time. At least when you're – all of you – are around. I want to be someone you can count on." He gestures at his outfit, the naked-seeming legs, the T-shirt clinging lightly to his chest. "Do I look like someone you can be sure will help you like this?"
Jirou laughs again and leans back on the couch, gathering her legs under her and leaning on her knees. "You already helped me once tonight, right?"
Tenya has to admit she's correct.
"You know, you don't have to act all grown-up for us to think you're dependable," Jirou says. "I mean, we know you are. You're our class rep." Tenya suddenly presses his mouth into a wobbly line and gives in to an overwhelming urge to examine the ceiling. "Loosening up isn't so bad, you know? I mean," she shrugs with both shoulders and jacks, "I guess I feel more comfortable talking to you like this than when you're in, y'know, 'rep mode'."
"Oh! I see!" Tenya sits up straight and his hand goes to his chin. "Thank you for telling me, Jirou! I will be sure to remember that."
"Anyway," Jirou says, standing up and dumping the blanket behind her, "I came down to make coffee. Want some?"
"No, thank you Jirou. But I am perfectly capable of making coffee if you would like to rest! You do seem quite tired! I will wake you when it's done."
She sighs. That sounds like *such* a good idea. She still needs to clear her head, and this surprise enounter hasn't calmed her down any. "Would you really, class rep? That would be…" She yawns. "Insanely awesome."
"Of course!" He stands up, beaming. "Anything for my fellow classmates."
Jirou smiles and pinks a little, then snuggles down with the pillow and blanket. Iida's spooning out the coffee and it already smells absolutely amazing, this was her best idea tonight. Couple of cups strong and sweet and black and she'll be ready to face the final stretch.
Dozing, she plugs her jacks into the couch, out of habit more than anything else. She hears the usual background noise from the ground, pipes and burrowing animals. A few scrapes as the earliest risers hit the snooze button. A couple of truly exceptional snorers plying their trade. There's one sound, though, that she's not used to hearing, a kind of quiet hum, and it takes her a minute of listening and thinking to realize that it's coming from Iida.
She cracks an eye open and looks at him through the space under the cupboards. Just puttering around, drawing the water and pouring it into the top of the plain drip machine. It's an oddly nice sound, steady but complex, comforting as rain on a window. Focusing in on it, she finds that it settles her mind. Tentatively plays a mental chord across it, and is surprised to find it helps her analyze the sound, the background making the imagined notes stand out clear but not stark. Suggestive of where they fit in the song, what they need to be fulfilled.
"Tenya!" she says.
"Hmm?" He's pressing the button on the coffeemaker. "It'll be done in a few minutes."
"Can you do something else for me?" She explains her struggle with the piece she's been working on. "Can you just, kind of, play your engines for me? It's really relaxing."
He laughs. "Really? Honestly, I sometimes do that for myself. Like tonight, when I can't sleep. When I'm stressed. It's calming, somehow."
"Please." She sits up, pulling the blanket with her, and pats the space by the pillow. "I think if I can just touch you with my jacks I'll be able to hear it clearly."
He raises his eyebrows a little but shrugs and comes to sit next to her. "Like this?"
The coffee's starting to perk, filling the room with its welcoming aroma. She leans on his shoulder and sends her jacks over by his neck. "Um, excuse me, I guess."
"Mm."
She touches them gently on his skin. Oh, that's it, the sound is so clear now. She mentally turns down the volume a little bit, and sighs as she starts to relax.
"Here...Like this?" Engines in neutral, he revs them quietly, rhythmically, and it's exactly what she needs, everything external falling away as her attention turns entirely inward, to her mind's studio, playing and adjusting and testing the different parts she's written against each other.
Her focus is only a little interrupted when he gently moves her aside to pour the coffee – two cups, she sees smugly. He brings them back, a Crimson Riot mug for her and a UA-branded, blue "PLUS ULTRA" mug for him. She leans her head against him again and sips the coffee. Plenty sweet, the way she likes it. The rep is such a good dude, he could probably order lunch for the entire class and not miss a single side of horseradish. "It won't take long, I think," she says. She knows he smiles, and she does too. There's nothing to worry about, because the class rep is here to help.
Epilogue:
They both fall asleep. When the rest of the dorm wakes up the texting game is in FULL swing, phone cameras clicking and students whispering in glee. Tenya's wearing shorts! The class rep's wearing a T-shirt and he's not in the locker room! He's practically naked! Everyone come see!
Jirou dedicates the finished song to him and he about dies of blushing and choking on his orange juice and then getting pounded on his back by half the class.
let tenya wear a t-shirt you foooools