Ochaco, with tears trailing down her face, runs towards me and slaps me hard across the cheek.
"You don't know a damn thing about how I feel!" she screams at me.

There's a pause. If I was supposed to say something in response to her, I'm not sure what it could have been. If it was an expression or action I was supposed to make, I'm not sure of those either. I can only think of staying still, and remain facing the direction of her strike.

"You're the one who can't tell how anyone feels here, Tsuyu… You act like you know what's best for me, but you won't even talk to me about it? You're just gonna' assume that I'm wrong in this? That's so kind of you, Tsuyu." she cries out her words angrily, as her voice crackles and creaks. Her screaming match with Bakugo had worn out her throat. The fact that she can still make a sound is surprising.
"And here you are talking off Deku's ears like he's the one that needs lecturing." she continues, "You're the one who made a decision behind his back – thinking that he'd agree with your stupid plans. You've lost your right to talk here! Just shut up and listen for once! Listen to what your husband has to say to you… I've been trying to listen to him, but you've been talking over him this entire time! Funny how a friend is more willing to heed a man than his wife."

Furrow-browed and filled with spite, I fire a harsh stare towards Uraraka. She's my dearest and closest friend… I cherish her company, her mind, and her heart, more than I do anyone else's, aside from my husband's… but even she has limits as to what she can or can't express around me. There's a clear boundary between us in this companionship – a wall that keeps her from claiming my position next to Izuku. And she just unceremoniously crossed that line with her words.
"Ochaco… please take back what you just said." I growl.

"Why? You're scared that it's true?" she growls back.

"I don't want to have a fight over this."

"Of course you wouldn't want to have a fight over Deku now… Because all you're concerned about is yourself."

I return the favor for what she had given me earlier – leaving a burning red mark of my own across her face. My palm's much larger than hers.
With the sting still fresh on my skin, I grab her by the shoulder and slam her against the wall. "Do you really think that?!" I yell into her reddened face, "I'm doing this for you, you know?! I'm doing it for Izuku's sake! What's a friend supposed to do when their best friend keeps hurting herself?! What's a wife supposed to do when her husband keeps crushing himself with guilt?! Am I supposed to just stand around and watch both of you kill yourselves?!"

"Tsuyu!" Izuku yells at me, putting his hand on my arm, ready to pull me off of her.

I elbow his hand away and shout, "You shouldn't protect her for this, Izuku! I know – I know I asked you to back then, but I take it back! We can't keep doing this to her!" My hands tighten their grip on Uraraka… and I pull her towards myself, embracing her desperately.
"I can't keep doing this to you, Ochaco… Letting you chase after Izuku all this time was a mistake. I just… I just wanted you to stay our best friend for as long as possible. I wanted you to keep being happy and carefree around us. But this kind of life isn't realistic… It's such a cruel lie to you. The way we sugar-coat it with our daily victories and tiny satisfactions, is only making things worse. This relationship between all three of us is so obviously bound to collapse in on itself, so, please, let's stop denying that before it's too late. Let's all stop pretending that we're happy this way…We're not. I'm not. You're not. Izuku's not."

Ochaco struggles in my arms, frees herself, then shoves me away. I stumble back a few steps, but manage to keep myself upright.
"Stop talking for us like you know what we're all thinking!" she tries screaming out the words, but they only come out as loud whispers, "You don't even know how Deku feels about any of this! Have you even asked him?! And have you ever tried just asking me what I'm thinking about – instead of analyzing me?! Do you ever base any of your assumptions on facts that you can cross-reference with anyone besides yourself?! Why don't you get off that your stupid high horse of yours and just talk things out for once?!"

Standing and staring at Ochaco, with her defying glare burying deep into me, I find myself without words.
I'm upset. Angry, irritated, and annoyed by her demeanor. I'm aware that she tends to mimic Bakugo anytime she spends too much time speaking with him, phone or otherwise… but still, this imitation is going too far. I can almost hear the insult 'frog face' at the end of each of her sentences.
I'm hurt. Offended, saddened, and crushed by her boldness against me. There was a time when Uraraka would hold her words whenever it concerned any troubles found in Izuku and I's relationship – but now it feels as if she'll no longer hold anything back from me… even if it undermines my role as Izuku's wife.
I'm quieted. Perplexed, in awe, and ashamed before her words. All that she had said, no matter how rudely or inconsiderate she had put them, was undeniably the truth. I hadn't asked Deku how he feels. I haven't asked Ochaco what she's thinking about. I have been assuming everything I've said and thought without holding a proper conversation with anyone close to me. And it's only my opinions that I've given any weight or value to in this discussion.

At face value, she's absolutely right: I've only been concerned about myself.
I'm a horrible friend. And a shameful wife.

I bow my head low, once towards Ochaco, once – lower – towards my husband, Izuku.
Exhaling slowly, I try my best to let go of my short-lived grudges and unproven worries. And with an effort, I let go of all the 'bookmarks' I've placed in this conversation – wanting to start everything off from scratch.
"Ochaco…" I say, my voice warbling from held back tears, "Do you… Do you still love my husband?"

"Very much." she answers almost immediately. Though I've heard her confirm this multiple times with her daily 'I love you, Deku, I really do's, hearing this confirmation as an answer stabs at my chest.

I feel sick, and hurt… and scared. Though I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I already know how this conversation ends, and I'm afraid to go back to our daily lives. Or maybe, it's because I don't know how this talk will end now, and I'm terrified knowing that our lives will finally change after four whole years…
Whichever the case is, I shouldn't worry over these things by myself. I shouldn't assume without asking. I should ask them directly. I should speak honestly and openly. I should be her best friend, and trust her answers.
"Doesn't it hurt you to keep loving him like this?" I push myself to ask.

"It hurts like hell." she responds.

"Then why keep putting yourself through this?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"I don't think I would…" I firmly shake my head. "I don't think I could. I think if someone else had been in my place, and I was the one waiting for Izuku… I would have moved on. Living every day in love with him, with the soul-crushing knowledge that someone else was being far more intimate with him – holding and seeing his love in a way that I never could – it'd be too much for me."

"Then you must have forgotten why you love him."

"I haven't forgotten! I remember it every day! I know it every day! He's my husband! He's my Izuku!" I shout, protesting against her statement… though I could tell that there was a tremor of fear in my voice.

She answers to my tremor with confidence in her broken voice, "If you haven't forgotten, then you wouldn't have said that you'd move on. You wouldn't want to move on even if someone else loved him, in ten more ways than you could – in a hundred, in a thousand more ways. You would love him regardless, because you know there's no one else in the world like him."

Such a bold sentiment… but so completely adolescent. Outdated, even.
Had this been said in a casual conversation, I would have laughed at her in teasing. But this isn't the place and time for mocking. I have to take her words seriously, and weigh them against mine.
I challenge her logic with my response, "I know there's no one else like him – as much as I know that there's no one else like anyone else. Each person is different, and each of them can carry a love that's irreplaceable and wholly unique to another person. To say that I'd stay with Izuku because I know there's no one else like him – is the same as me saying that I'd leave him because I know there's someone else out there that's nothing like him. It's an all-encompassing conclusion that hurts your argument more than helps. It's why I've never said it myself."

Ochaco sighs to show disappointment in my deliberative response. It irks me, obviously, but I hold my tongue and wait for her counter-argument.
As if she knew that it was taking me a lot of effort to do so, she leaves a long pause of silence between us… before speaking, "Back in our first year, when I let you know that I'd support you in getting with Deku – I did it because I saw that you cared for him more than I did. You put him first, thought of him first, and put yourself and your desires second… You were a lot more mature than me when it came to love. A lot more selfless than I was.
"I admired you because of it, and I hoped one day I could love someone the same way you loved Izuku. So I would watch you, day after day, loving Izuku selflessly and with everything you had. The way you would talk to him and joke with him – the way you would play and work together – everything you let me see between you two: I took to heart, so I could apply that kind of love to whoever I ended up with, if I ever did end up with someone. And after years of watching you love him sincerely, I found out something about you that I never expected to find… You weren't entirely selfless in your love, Tsuyu."
Her determined eyes unlock from mine and turn away, tracing themselves towards Izuku. In seconds, her expression gradually softens, and a sweet smile forms on her lips – which looks comical beside her very swollen cheek.
"You were being selfish over him too. There were parts of Izuku, and times you held with him, that you were being so greedy with. Like a kid with their favorite candy bar, you'd hesitate in ever sharing those pieces with me – whether showing them to me or involving me in those moments. It made me wonder if that was what love was supposed to be. That selfish, overprotective obsession. But the more I thought about it, the more I knew that it couldn't be – because I had felt that same way with Deku before. Back in those days, there were so many feelings I had for him that I wanted to keep to myself, that I'd never share with the rest of the world. So what was it then, that made your selfish love so much more genuine than mine?
"And then, one day, I figured it out. Just the day before I asked you if I could be completely honest about my feelings, I had finally figured out what the difference was between your love and mine… It had nothing to do with your selfishness over, or your selflessness with, him. It was what you shared with him. It was in those moments you held together, worked on together, in what you carried together, that made your love so whole with him – and it's what made mine seem so fake in comparison. Your love for him was more than just what you claimed from him, or gave up from yourself. It wasn't just what you sacrificed or what you demanded. It wasn't obsession, infatuation, desire, duty, loyalty, compassion, or anything else you'd read about in books or see in movies. Your love – your real and true love – was made invaluable because of the life only you and Izuku could have together."
Ochaco faces me again – this time, with a tearful grin. "That's why I confessed my feelings for Deku the very next day. Because, after I realized that, after I saw what your love was, and what was missing from mine… I came to only one logical conclusion: I still loved Deku. I still loved spending time with him. I still loved the conversations we had. I still adored the moments I shared with him. The way we laughed, the way we cried, the way we were always there for each other? I still cherished that life I lived with him, that I still lived with him. And ever since I recognized these feelings, I never wanted to let them go. Even if, back then, you had never pushed me to be honest with him too – Even if I only stayed as a quiet friend by his side… I would have still loved him with all my heart. I would have loved him, and the memories I continued to make with him every day.
"I wanted my life with him, in the only way my life could be with him, over any other possible lives out there I could have had with any other person! Even if it was distant. Even if it could only be platonic. I didn't care. I loved being with him. Don't you know how that feels, Tsuyu? Don't you still remember when you first realized that you loved your life with him – and never wanted to let it go?"

… A sticker of us posing together in front of a green-screen Eiffel Tower.
… A selfie during lunch when he didn't expect it – there was pickled cabbage on his cheek.
… Him carrying me in his arms, the both of us were worn out from our fight with Eraserhead.
… Both of us are screaming as we go down in a rollercoaster – Izuku more than me.
… Polaroids of two empty bowls from a spicy ramen eating contest.
… Blushing in our classroom seats, after our classmates had found out about us being together.
… The two of us wearing our official hero costumes for the first time – Mina is showing off hers too.
… He sneaks a kiss on my cheek while I'm asleep.
… I sneak a kiss on his lips while he's daydreaming.

Photos. Ones that I had collected over the years, since we first bonded in our friendship – and continued collecting long after that. They were taken by me. Some were taken by my husband. Some by my best friend. And they're the first things that come to mind when I think of my life with Izuku.
I love those photos, one and all – they're cute, and fun, silly, and attractive. And I'm always eager to take more of them to build up my albums. Much more than their looks and their collectability, though, it's what's behind these photographs that I love the most – the stories surrounding them, the memories and moments that I can never truly re-experience in any other way – the measurements between them and the present, visual reminders of who we were then, and who we are now, and what it took to get here… I'll never get tired of looking at these photos, from their surfaces, to their depths. And I'll never get tired using them as my compass for what's behind me and, most importantly, what's ahead of me. In this life I share with Izuku, there are so many possibilities that I can only reach with him by my side. There are experiences here I could have only seen or touched by choosing to stay by his side. There are thoughts and feelings I can only hold now, in this very instant, because we've each reached this point – together.
From this path that was put ahead of me, found nowhere else, I can live a life I truly adore, am proud of, can never replace, and would never want to replace. Because my Izuku, my life with him, can never, ever, be replaced.
And yet… as much as these literal photographic memories acted as a response to a question I was given… none of the ones in mind quite answered the question my best friend had specifically asked me…

Do I remember when I first realized that I loved my life with him?

… Orange-colored sunset skies…
… A light wooden bench. With a trashcan nearby…
… Soda can beside my feet. A smudged stain on his pant leg…
… Round bushes lined up behind us. A paved walkway below…
… A young, not-quite-yet couple, dressed 'casually chic' for a date they never planned…
… They look deep into each other's eyes – as they press their hands against each other's…

A photograph, like all the others. A cherished memory, all the same.
But unlike the others – this wasn't mine, and it was a fake.

I didn't take this photograph, nor did Izuku, nor had Ochaco. None of us knew of the photo's existence until the day it was sent to my phone by Mina.
And it was taken completely out of context. There was nothing romantic or intimate occurring in that moment. Memories associated with it are mostly fabricated by gossip. And all the hints one could find in our still-frame expressions or postures: were despicably imagined by those who weren't willing to listen to reason.
No, at that time, Izuku and I were arguing over the size of my wrists compared to my hands… it's a silly thing, now that I look back on it. And it's a simple thing that uncovers the truth of the photo to anyone that misunderstood – no matter how much more appealing the misunderstanding is.
But it was an appeal that not even I could shrug off… An appeal that made me unwilling to listen to reason, and gladly sacrificed my reality to fantasize over.
It was the appeal of 'what if', 'what could have been', and 'what could it be'…
It was the appeal of the life I could have with Izuku, should I have wanted it.
After glancing at it only once… I was intrigued by the idea. After the tenth time… I was attracted to the concept. After the twentieth time… I desperately wanted the chance. Within that single photo, I had fallen deeply in love with the life I shared with Izuku, before I had even experienced it. And that imagined fantasy pushed me to chase after the tangible reality.
Unlike when I was first given it, I'm thankful now to have seen that photo… because if I hadn't, all those years ago, I would have never known what it was like to be his first and only girlfriend, and I would have never known what it was like to be his wife. I would have missed out on this wonderful life entirely.

In front of me now was a woman who had missed out on it. Though she desperately holds onto the small portion that she can still claim – she's barred from ever holding more, ever claiming more, simply because she didn't chase after her fantasy. At no risk, she's received so little reward.
… But who am I to judge the value of what's left over for her? To her, this small reality of 'what's left' could be worth far more than the fantastical 'what it could be's. Even if she's promised more for chasing after a different life, the measurement of 'more' will only exist once she's abandoned this one – and the reward's not even guaranteed. The pocket of life she is guaranteeing in this moment, with her own efforts, is far more precious to her.
My satisfaction with the full life that I hold, made me take her pocket one for granted… Even with so little, she shows just as much satisfaction as I do. Who am I to say there's something better for her?

"You… You look like you remember now…" the woman 'with so little' tells me in a barely-heard whimper. How could she tell that I remembered? Was there an actual change in my face this time around – when I've been known to remain 'expressionless' in most occasions? Or was it my silence that gave it away? Before I can run down this line of assumptions, she continues with her whimpers, "You get it n-now, ri…ight? The life you share with hi-… him is precious, right? You don't want it to go, even – even if y-you're promised a better o-one. B-Because there's no such thing a-as better for this, right? O-O-Only d-different. And... And you don't w-want different…"
Ochaco's teary grin quickly turns itself into a despairing frown. The façade she held as the spunky, defiant woman that could stand toe-to-toe with Bakugo in a screaming match, has finally faded… and she's back to her old, sweet, sensitive self. She begins crying audibly – hiccuping and moaning between breaths. I nearly forgot how much of a crybaby she is whenever she's alone with Izuku and I…
"I – I – I – I – I – I don't – don't – wan-want d-d-d-d-different!" she pitifully hiccups out her words with each poorly-held sob, "I – I – I l-l-love the li…ife I have right now! W-With D-Deku! W-W-With you! W-W-W-With all of… us! T-Together! It – It doesn-oesn't mat-tter if it hur-hurts! I lo-love it! I lo-ove you guys! I choo-choose this li-life with both of you! I wan…nt this li-i-life with Deku! D-D-D-Don't take it away from me!"
Ochaco's composure breaks and she falls to her knees, sobbing inconsolably.

I rush to her side and wrap my arms tightly around her. My hand sliding through her hair slowly as I repeatedly whisper into her ear, "It's okay… I won't take it away…"
Without turning towards him, I gesture for my husband to join me. He crouches beside and adds his hand onto Ochaco's shivering head. The no-touch rule I pushed onto the both of them prohibits him from going any further.

Damn that rule.

I grab Izuku's head-patting hand and pull it over Ochaco's shoulder. He's physically refusing the action – thinking that he's misunderstanding what I'm trying to get him to do. With a knee to the rear, I force him to fall into a sitting position and forcefully wrap his arms around the crying woman.
Izuku's eyes widen in shock.

More in shock is the woman in his arms – who has miraculously stopped quaking in her sobs. Her head very slowly turns upwards, looking towards the source of the warm embrace. Seeing Izuku staring back at her in complete confusion, she looks towards me in complete confusion – then back at him – then back at me.
"W-W-W-W-W-W–" Ochaco's eyes are spinning. Her face is turning pinker and redder than I've ever seen it burn. The quaking of her desperate cries, has transformed into the shaking of a mental breakdown.

Izuku's staring at me, in complete anxiety… it reminds me of the face he gave Uraraka and I on that day we both counter-confessed to him. I hope he doesn't faint again.
"Ts-Ts-Tsuyu, wh-what –" he stutters in a way I haven't heard him stutter since we exchanged vows. The fact that something as small as this is making him have the same reaction fills me with an aura of jealousy.

I'm tired of feeling this way. My jealousy has done nothing for this relationship other than make me wary of talking anything over with anyone in this group. If anything, it's only made me scared and unsure of the bond that I held with these two – my best friend and husband.
I crush these feelings pitilessly under my heel, with the phrase, "Just kiss already."

"WHAT?!" the two scream in unison and break away in a panic. Ochaco slides herself to one side of the room, pinning herself against the reading nook door. Izuku slams himself against the coffee table, curling over in pain.

Standing up and stretching out my legs, I look down at the absolutely panicked and confused not-quite couple in irritation. "Just for the record, even after everything you've told me, Ochaco: I haven't changed my stance in this. I'm still not okay with you living with us as a single woman. You should be happy and able to express your feelings however you want for the person you love – with no restrictions or rules. And if you're so stubborn that you won't choose someone other than Izuku, despite him already being married to me – then… please choose him, and don't let me get in your way of loving him."

Izuku stops rolling around in agony and looks up at me in desperate concern. "Wh-What are you saying, Tsuyu?! Are we –"

I walk over to him and pull him up by the elbow, laying him down on the couch and rubbing his possibly-bruised ribs. "No, we're not getting a divorce, idiot. I love you. I'm not letting you go."
With an unamused frown, I turn my attention to Uraraka. "He's still my husband, you got that? I'm still his wife. None of that changes. But you… The two of you… can be something too. I don't know what. 'Lovers' sounds wrong. I consider all of us a family – so it sounds completely wrong to refer to you as that. Even talking about this sounds horribly wrong. Thinking about this is really, really strange! But –"
I calm my breathing, forcing myself to stop making this a monologue. My breaths become heavy as I struggle with the next part: forcing the fear in my heart to go away, as I turn towards my husband.
"I-Izuku!" I unnecessarily shout his name to gain his attention. He's right next to me…

"Y-Yes?!" he unnecessarily shouts in affirmation. That hurt my ears…

"Do you… Is this fine with you?"

"Is… fine?" he blurts, then corrects himself, "Is w-what fine?"

My face turns red. I'm not angry with him, even though I should be. Instead, I feel horribly embarrassed and self-conscious over my next words. Without turning this into a self-excusing monologue, I feel absolutely vulnerable with what I have to say.
"Is you being… No, um, is Ochaco…" my innate ability to speak is completely lost. I want to die.
"Is it fine with you that…" My heart spins rapidly, unable to make itself skip nor sink with assumptions.
"That I want Ochaco to be… you know…" I sound like a fool. My darting eyes makes me look like one too.
"Your…" I've already decided my stance on this, and yet I can't help but second-guess its consequences.
"Your…" Izuku and Ochaco's eyes are completely glued to me, anxiously waiting for the completion of my stilted words.
"Your second wife?!" I force the phrase out with a heavy breath, then gasp for air.

After hearing my question in full, both my husband and best friend respond with a simultaneous faint.

"How scandalous~" Aoyama Yuga applauds from the corner of the room…