Inspired by Canis : The Speaker

Three is one.

One is three.

The heat from those being held in both arms permeates the centre of the body.

We are —

Family.

Lovers.

And kindred souls.

With the humblest intentions,

Mozu The Mochi

Presents. . .

A sense of longing — burnt through lingering touches and slow caresses and the rough smother of kisses laid upon bodies which glistened with sweat. There was so much that a king bed could handle but the strenuous movements of three people.

One who widened his legs, spreading as far as he could as how he wished he could open up his heart. Tears; of mirth, but not just from the pleasure building up to his spine — nor from the excitable frivolity of tender and loving sensations from two pair of hands — but the pain gathered from previous years, like a masonry dam, crashed down to its core altogether and the waters invited themselves to drown his mind of fervour.

Two who were occupied with their hands; one with the kisses and claiming bites against the jaw, trailing pecks to the sensitive corners of neck; and the other with a grip on the lower region whilst his other hand unbuckling the fabric which clung lowly on his hips as he attempted on brandishing his huge phallus. Heavy movements; shuffling noises occasionally drowned by the verbal release of pleasure from their lips. Groans, moans, whispers of their names — chanting as if they worship none but each other, repeating as if they knew no other word but just their names.

It was addiction, a sweet anecdote from the context of real world.

It was euphoric, a much needed relief.

It was desperation, to ease the twinge of pain gathered from ten years.

It was manic, rapid, passionate, fireworks of the summer festival, exhilarating.

It was love, one of a kind, unexplainable, wordless, beautiful.

Entwined hands, inseparable, bated breathes mingling into one. The sense of closure, skin to skin, the blistering heat was none than a sensation of safety. Everything was alright when they were in each other's arms, tangled, sweaty — together.

Together, complete.

Beauty of a Daylily

.

.

.

Introduction

Within the outskirts of a bustling city, in the district of Musutafu, a lustrous manor of vintage timber exterior and arched window panes resided between heavy iron gates which separated the herringbone steps from asphalt. A classic venue showing elegance, and as of that, it told discipline, goodness, wondrous canards of its residents. Often, the byproducts — orphans who would be adopted — of Aldera Orphanage were told they were the finest. The way the orphanage bestowed the education to students, things they do to ensure children living in their happiest moments. Then, when they felt it was ready, these children would be picked out by families of utmost wealth and reputations; about huge conglomerates, fine businesses, scholars or famed by the top media.

One could simply said that the succession of the orphanage could never be done if it wasn't for the principal herself. For the majority of children, she was deemed a mother, and called with familiarity of said name as well, but the outside world has yet to know her name, as she would only be referred as Aldera herself. Such were the mysteries included in the orphanage, for the lineage of principal, all were female — were referred as Aldera. This particular mother of slender and tall figure, showing austere yet poised stature, the belle of the town with eyes so kind but sharp against the slickness of children's sly mischief; tender lips with words so smooth and slippery to the tongue, easing up people with no failures, the word of convince was worth years of practice and experience; demeanour of a lady, an exemplary. Through the eyes of everyone, she was perfect.

As guileless as ever, such were also the perspectives of Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki and Todoroki Shouto.

Izuku.

Katsuki.

Shouto.

An enigma of their own, much more when they mingled. Strange entwinement of fate, one could said. There seemed to be an odd way of describing this group of children residing in Aldera Orphanage. How they seemed to remain as if they were stuck hip to hip, arms encircling one another, and segregate themselves from other kids. It was by choice, they said, that it wasn't wrong not to interact with other people and they were contented with what they have. As if there was a little bubble encasing around them, protected.

As these three weren't major troublemakers in the house, Aldera pay no extra attention to them. If they seek for the contentment of only three, then so be it, Aldera would leave as they were — only if it does not hinder with the process of adoption, a process that would come for time not too long from now. These eight-year olds showed fine prowess, individuals with growing talents and utmost potential to integrate with the fine society of Japan. Obsession and attachment were not part of the set, unfortunately.

The stories of how they came to be, though, was undeniably unique.

Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki were delivered straight to her door a day after the confirmation of their parents' deaths. It had been such a forlorn tragedy, the three winding up from work just to be roped into the unfortunate events of heavy rainfall and a skidding truck slamming straight to their car. The two of them, age five, were waiting anxiously as the nursery had emptied except for the caretaker herself. There had been a phone call, a loud, sharp gasp from the elderly woman, then the look of sympathy shot towards these two. After a case involving the social services and police, they were taken to their homes — no longer a home for them — to pack their belongings and were met straight away to the iron gates of Aldera. For the past few months, these two spoke of few words; this case very much included Katsuki who were known to be such a roaring, pesky beast. Commonly, Izuku only spoke what was necessary to be spoken; mindful manners of thank you's or please whereas the fury blond growled upon physical contact, grunted when spoken to, and only whispered closely to Izuku's ear when he wanted to talk. Aldera herself did not expect the natural growl of his voice when he actually started interacting with other. . . adults. Despite young age, Aldera could identify the development of a coarse, rumbling and deep voice, never to settle with the tender or smoothness of a chivalrous gentleman — that was Izuku's role in the game. Two opposites encircling each other, much like yin and yang.

However, she didn't expect the involvement of a third party after all. Nine months after their incident, she received another call from the social services stating the need of fostering a rescue child. She also didn't expect a Todoroki of all people, even more when the actual youngest child stepped into her doorstep as a confirmation. The Todoroki family was one of the limelight in heroes' world. One simply knows who Endeavour was, the No.2 hero of Japan and few of the strongest who succeeded on spreading their influences globally. Endeavour of Flame Hero, familiarly known as Todoroki Enji, was the cause of abuse done to his youngest child, the mental breakdown of his wife and the missing case of his eldest son, Todoroki Touya. There were so much speculations afterwards, his name rose infamously just as similarly as his reputation was dwindling down. The proof of Shouto's scar surrounding one part of his eye was enough to shake the entire media — the wildfire of Todoroki Enji as a hero to everyone but family. How he remained as a hero afterwards was a mystery to Aldera, but she paid no attention to the small details of the father when she get to experience fostering the famous child himself.

Though, unlike the name he carried, Todoroki Shouto was much, much of a quieter kid than the previous two. For the first week, he stick close to the walls, arms around his knees as dual-coloured eyes watch the hustle and bustle of unruly, mischievous bunch. Ignoring the calls of other boys nor the sweet gushes coming from the girls, he was the lone wolf of the orphanage, isolation at his very best, personality colder than the ice power they claimed that he has.

Of course, things didn't remain that way for long.

Prying eyes coming from two people. For days, it remained as an observation. One day, the green-haired boy contemplating on offering a welcoming gift of some sorts while coaxing the blond to make the first move. Despite the usual grunt coming from the taller kid, he pulled his friend — friend? — towards the icy boy. Dubiously, such movements alerted the child — someone who was used to alerting even subtle movements to hide from his father. The slight panic in his visage, however, did not go unnoticed by the two as they halted their steps in order to avoid overstepping his boundary and laid an All Might plush not so further from his position.

Izuku spoke first, his voice meek and nervous but overall, the kindness did not go ignored; "I. . . We thought you might need a friend, so. . . Kacchan and I thought we would give you this All Might as your friend," he gulped, then smiled when the other didn't show any signs of retaliation, "He's our favourite, so please don't hurt him!" The blond gave a nod of approval upon his words.

Shouto quirked one of his brow, head inclined in confusion as he accepted the gesture. He eyed the plush carefully, a doll that didn't specifically looked so new but was in very good condition — as if it was their best asset that had been their utmost priority. If so, why the need of sacrificing such preciousness over a petty offer of friendship?

But, as petty as it may look, Shouto felt warmth for the first time. Not the kind of warmth that built up to be searing pain, the kind which licked his skin in a cruel manner. It was warmth which settled his heart, and for the first time since Touya, he felt an odd but overwhelming swell in his chest.

It felt good.

So, this was friendship, he thought happily.

"Th-Tha. . ." he attempted his speech, but his throat caught up with a lump, and he nervously backed down. The two friends seemed to understand the notion and they made themselves comfortable upon the bare floors he sat.

Children were often clueless as to what happened outside their lives, and it didn't come out as a surprise when Shouto was asked about how he ended up here. Discomfort settled to the bottom his gut, and he remained quiet at the question. It was then, he felt two small hands upon his own pale skin and he looked at the two of them who bore a deep understanding in their eyes. Even the prickly-looking blond gestured a similar context through his eyes, and he solemnly looked away afterwards as if embarrassed at his own actions.

Or rather, it wasn't a mutual understanding yet, not when they only knew him for mere minutes. There was something about these two that pulled through his heartstrings, from how they interacted with each other was not visually pleasant at all times (as Katsuki seemed rough at the edges sometimes, and how he demanded to lead, yet his overbearing commands over Izuku for certain things that were often for the latter's sake; like eating vegetables, for example), and to how they tend to cooperate without verbal communication — these two have reached the sort of understanding towards each other that no words needed to be said. And now, to the respect they gave to those they deemed worthy of such thoughts. Perhaps, they have chosen him.

Somehow, Shouto craved for such things. Now, he knows who he wanted to share such bond.

And now, it was his turn to choose them.

Three years passed in a blink of an eye for the trio, years worth of growth to their connection as well as their self-development towards their quirks and skills. At the ripe age of eight, Katsuki was currently the tallest of the three even if Shouto was the oldest. Aldera had gushed on how they would be fine grown-ups in the future, and even if they didn't so often regard compliments from outsiders, the gesture does made Katsuki swell and Shouto to appreciate their mother. Katsuki also received a remarkably strong quirk over two years ago, when they were playing under the searing, summery weather and so suddenly, his hand jolted a flurry of sparks. It was like fireworks, as Izuku had said, and Shouto couldn't ever be prouder for his dear friend — brother. Shouto, himself, had grown up to be a prodigy of sorts within the orphanage. As someone who was tutored at such a young age in his previous, er, bode, his intellectual knowledge surpassed that of majority of the kids. Not to mention, the two quirks that he possessed from his parents added so much more to his worth. Katsuki and he became the eyes of many envious kids in their home.

Izuku, on the other hand, didn't receive much similar fate as to the two. He was determined as someone without power after a clinical investigation, which rendered him morose for a long period of time. Of course, the two had been comforting even when Katsuki wasn't so pleased with the doctor who came by. It was the first time Katsuki almost ended up in trouble, lunging himself to the doctor and almost hurl an explosion to his face. Aldera, herself, had to peel the boy from clinging on the doctor's coat. He received some spankings soon after, but that didn't stop him from plotting out a vengeful scheme. Aldera had to change doctors afterwards, for the sake of his safety after all. Although, not to disregard of Izuku's other capabilities as well. To make up for his lacking, he was one with a keen observation towards human. His sharp analysis of human behaviour could be a concern of many if polished, and the fact that he kept many journals regarding of each and every children and patrons within the orphanage, and not to forget the ones about heroes as well (since the three desired to be heroes when they grew up). The only one of the trio who were able to forge a relatively good connections with others through his sweet demeanour and word of choice, despite being a shy boy, was able to capture hearts of many through his natural demure. To top it all, he was strong in his own way — mastering taekwando after a teary-eyed plea, after only two years of practice, was in brown belt.

The three of them were one of a kind that Aldera ever rose in the home. Surely enough, other kids were not to be fooled with their own set of skills but the three showed the greatest potential she ever witnessed. Lions in the jungle, three great minds playing a game of complex chess, kings of a kind that knew of their potential, and thrived from this.

Undeniably, the two were much greater in power — taller, sharper, experienced when it comes to the unruly world of quirks. From this, it caused Izuku to be overshadowed from the limelight. The attention diverted, and therefore, he sunk into the depths of the shadows of his own friends — brothers, whoever they may be.

So, when everything seemed perfect in Aldera, would there ever be a problem for them?

They doubted.

Even as of the current timelines, a fine day despite the bleakness of December, as Christmas was approaching within twelve days, the bells of the chapel rang to signal the Aldera children on beginning their lessons. A sermon, one that Aldera held every Sundays to implement good morales and spiritual beliefs to her children, and to test the waters that of her experience as a nun for many years now. Residents living closely to the orphanage often attended the sermon as well, enjoying the goodness that she portrayed and of course, to deliver some goods after the ceremony. She glanced at the empty seat as other children filling in the rest — the kind of elongated seats arranged in rows within the small chapel. Coloured reflections casted upon the marbled floors, of softest blues and violets from rose windows illuminated from the remnant of the winter sun. It should be a good day — perhaps the three have overslept somehow?

From a distant, three boys ran as fast as they could. The groans of protest coming from a certain blond dominated the hallways as he led the other two with his faster strides. Behind, Izuku whined under his breath, "Kacchan, if you haven't taken my shirt, we would have gone much earlier!"

"Ha?!" The mentioned blond whipped his head in a rapid motion, his voice gruff yet never actually meant any anger, "Are you trying to put the blame on me, Deku?! Who was it that slept so late, he didn't even bother to get ready early, aah?" The term Deku came in as a phrase of dekiru after someone insulted the green-haired boy as dekunobou, for someone who couldn't do anything just because he didn't have a quirk. Of course, the bully was beaten up afterwards and the two managed to come up with a new term for Izuku. Until now, the insult he abhorred became something so precious to him.

"Hey, you know what I was doing is truly important —"

"Oh, pipe it down, you two," the much matured one stepped in, and he threw them a small smile. "Come, the sermon's only about to start after all."

When they got to the chapel, Aldera was reaching one-third of the reading. She threw a knowing, but firm look towards them as they gave apologetic ones in return. Silently, they approached to their seats and the programme resumed normally.

The programme wasn't something that fascinated the three of them, rather it was what came afterwards that happened all the times. They get to linger outside the orphanage for a short period of time, and often, they get to meet with their favourite adult who lived relatively further into the city but always managed to attend the mass (much earlier than their record) — Toshinori Yagi. A man around forty, with a lanky figure and sunken cheeks yet carrying around such a joyous nature which attracted the kids easily. He often brought them stories about heroes and his experiences of engaging himself in the line of work closely to the heroic fields. Sometimes, Katsuki thought he was bluffing after all but not when he get to show them his picture books. Overall, Yagi was indeed a good man.

He snickered lightly at the three, "You bunch of troublemakers are late again, hm?"

Katsuki grumbled at the notion, whilst Izuku shied from the tease, although he attempted to cover for himself; "It was Kacchan's fault!"

"Haa, why am I the bad guy here?"

Yagi grinned at the silly banter as they bit each other's head offs, but the hetero-eyed boy lightly shoved them asides and politely responded; "It wasn't really a big deal. Rather, we're glad you're able to join us again today."

"Yeah, after not attending the mass last week, Kacchan was so worried that he looked like he might cry," Izuku snickered at that, and squirmed when a hand was shoved at his face, and Katsuki constantly and loudly denying the statement he had made.

The man, touched at their concerns, felt the swell in his heart blooming from the respect and admiration the kids gave him. He really did have a soft spot for these kids after all, and it would be a pity to see if they were adopted by different families one day. After all, adoptions began when children reached the age of nine or older. And as for these children, they would be of that particular age sooner enough. That being said, Shouto's birthday would be around the corner, as well. So, it does came out as a surprise to them when he suddenly blurted out; "You three really balanced off each other really well, huh?" As if to add his point, Yagi beamed once more, "Why don't I adopt the three of you?!"

The three of them were stunned thereafter, but a while later, Izuku meekly blushed at that notion and the blond wrapped his hands around the two of them in a securely manner. Shouto glanced at them both and hung his arm around Katsuki's neck. "Really?"

"If there are plenty of books in your house than Aldera's, I'd consider it!"

"What's with you and books, you nerd —"

Perhaps, the golden-haired adult would consider it being real if it wasn't for the voice that disrupted their conversation from behind; "Toshinori-san, I wish you wouldn't joke about these kind of things to the kids," the words drawled on slowly but teasingly. He turned around to see Aldera shaking off her head towards him with a smile.

"Cheh, the old man's just fooling around," Katsuki said, but the disappointment was evident in his tone. Shouto and Izuku laughed at the look of his face.

"We'll see you around, Yagi-san!" Izuku waved at the man as he grabbed Shouto's hand and latched on his own and walked off to their home.

The three of them were contented enough without Toshinori's offer, though inevitably, they couldn't deny the gnawing concern at the back of their minds about adoption. After all, there would be a time when they have to be separated from each other. Simply thinking about it made them shiver, the anxiety growing into a crippling fear which dominated their very thoughts. Somehow, they ended up at the furthest shelves of the library; Izuku piling himself with his own journals, and Shouto rummaging through some economic books, Katsuki leaning lightly against his shoulder as he kept one arm wrapped against Izuku.

"It is impossible to adopt three kids at once," Shouto finally said after a moment of peaceful silence in their surrounding. The other two looked up from whatever they were discussing and the green-haired boy tilted his head in wonder.

"But, why?"

"It costs a minimum of 29 million yen to take care of one child up till the age of college graduation, since we're about to be nine soon, it's probably costs 10 million per child. Then, try multiply that by three," his voice darkened, "Do you think that will happen?"

As much as the reality seemed incredulous, Katsuki scoffed at the analysis, "These hags are rich anyway! They'd be fine!"

"That's wishful thinking," Shouto retorted back.

The two others exchanged conflicted gazes, the worry in their hearts are chewing them inside out by now. Izuku evidently portraying it by how he's muttering under his breathe and the hems of his shirt twisted by his small hands. He broke off the thought, "Shoucchan. . . Do you not want to stay together?"

The oldest boy blinked at the question, yet he regained his composure and gave Izuku the gentlest smile. "Izuku, that's not what I'm trying to say," he gestured them to be closer to his ears. With a low voice, he told them, "The best way to remain together is by staying in this orphanage. Once we are able to work outside, the three of us should leave this place."

The two of them brightened at the idea at once. For someone young, the simpler solutions were the ones they could find solace for now. It was from that day, the promise was forged between the three of them.

"We're going to be alright, as long as we stay together."

Such were the words of naivety. Such were the fates of three innocent boys.

To Be Continued

Hello, nice to meet you BNHA readers. I've never written a BNHA fic before but I've always been in the fandom for so long, so. . . I'm swinging it! I came by the KnB fandom, by the way and you'd probably notice I haven't been writing for a long time.

REAL CAUTION : THIS IS FULL ANGST/TRAGEDY WITH MENTIONS OF SMUT FOR NOW BUT HEAVY SMUT AT LATER CHAPTERS! There would be heavy codependency from the pairing, and it's gonna be a dark ride. So, pack your candles and prepare your prayers, everyone. If you enjoy, click X in the review!

To those who followed me since back then, I will be updating a certain beloved story soon!

- Mozu The Mochi (2020)