It was a late Friday evening in April. I have been training in both my hero courses, and in secret, my…uh… hobby…

It's been a challenge learning both. Trying to secretly practice rope tying by using myself as the guinea pig has led to some particularly…. tricky situations. Thankfully, I have tremendously improved since the first time I tied some rope around my wrist and nearly caused my whole hand to turn blue from loss of circulation.

I could never forget that first time, the tingling sensation of flesh giving into the tautness of the hemp rope; The untreated rope irritating my skin was something I'd never experienced before. I can still vividly recall it all; The heady mix of nervousness and exhilaration, the beads of sweat that cascaded down my neck, the heavy breathing taking over my thoughts and at that moment, the overwhelming silence. The numbness of my hand gave way to several realizations.

This was dangerous.

This obsession could hurt myself or someone else.

I can't stop now.

Back then, some unknown force within myself kept me… grounded, intrigued and eagerly anticipating more. Slowly I began to amass a collection of books and supplies that were kept concealed within hidden nooks and crannies of my dorm. Now my kinbaku collection could almost rival the All Might figurine collection, which said something that I didn't want to think about too deeply.

Nevertheless, this collection was not nearly as innocuous as my All Might memorabilia. Keeping it all in my dorm was my only choice, I couldn't even think of having it at home where my mom could find it. Oh god, if she found out…I can't even think about it without wanting to disappear.

I couldn't even recall when this had happened but, in a strange way, kinbaku grew into a form of stress relief as much as it was a hero training skill or an art form; especially after the events that had transpired since the start of hero training at U.A.

All Might winning against All for One for the last time...

Kamino Ward…

Rescuing Eri...

Each incident has come with its own lasting scars and recurring nightmares; each rumination became fuel to tighten the rope, to mold it to something of beauty instead of pain.
What I could have never anticipated was something else blooming within the depths of my despair.

….. a… a
A crush… maybe more?

With the one person who has been at my side since screaming out "It's your power, isn't it?!"
Todoroki Shouto.

Now, I have always been attracted to both genders, it's something I have been aware of since childhood. By the end of my first year at U.A., I had gotten over my crush on Uraraka. I suspect that this was when I started to develop an infatuation for Todoroki. However, it was never something that affected my focus until recently, during a particularly grueling practice fight. I looked up at those heterochromatic eyes and my only thought was, He is gorgeous.

It was during that moment of realization that time seemed to stand still , and it was also during that same moment when I had almost been punched in the face by said crush. I'm glad I was able to take the extra combat training that All Might recommended or else I would have had to visit Recovery Girl for about the 100th time that week.

After that, my fascination with ropes somehow transformed into some truly shameful fantasies of Todoroki being tied down from head to toe. I envisioned Todoroki struggling to move from my bind, looking up at me longingly. He wouldn't know what he needed but he would put his absolute trust in me to take care of him. He would come to silently crave whatever I would give him; Just like the woman in the picture I saw all those months ago.

Each of these fantasies came with an impending sense of doom and hopelessness. I couldn't stop my body's reaction the very first time some of these thoughts came across my mind.

I can't do that to him.

It was wrong to think of my friend that way, wrong to think about how I could make him yearn for the sting of my rope.

I would never have the courage or the strength to do that to him, I could hurt him or worse…

But it was on this fateful Friday night, that my relationship with him would forever shift.

I had come back to my dorm after a particularly difficult day of training. Aizawa-Sensei decided to make class 1-A and 1-B work together on rescue procedures all day. This involved each hero-in-training having to carry victims on our backs while avoiding "villain attacks" (aka the other teachers). We had to not only avoid them coming after us but also avoid causing additional property damage.

The truly challenging portion of the training came when Principal Nezu smashed his way through the outer wall of the crumbling city arena; Chasing us in his favorite bulldozer, laughing like a maniac. The extra time it took to run away from him made everything so much more grueling. As difficult as it was, it was hilarious seeing Kacchan and Kirishima running away from the crazed creature in heavy machinery, as the older men they were carrying were cursing at them.

By the time I arrived back at my dorm room, it was already late into the night and everyone else in class 1-A were spread out around the common room. I needed something to get my mind off the stress and worry that I felt throughout the week. So, instead of hanging out with my friends, I decided to practice on a leg bind that I recently read about in my new advanced rope techniques book; I also saw the bind in a demonstration video on a kinbaku forum. It was a variation of a classic kinbaku tie called the futomomo.

In preparation for the bind, I had propped my book up on the backboard of my bed and placed all my rope at my side, ready to use. It was then that I sat on my bed and the ritual began. As I took a deep breath, feeling the air move down to my stomach; I slowly sank into a mindset of ease and focus. I gathered the rope and started to wrap the well-treated jute rope around my uncovered leg.

With each layer created, my thigh and calf were brought closer together with only the growing tightness of my rope. Each time the cord was successfully secured around my leg, I then connected each layer with a knot that kept everything symmetrical across the gap between my thigh and calf. I was about done with the leg bind when I heard a resounding knock from the other side of my door.

Oh

Shit.

"Midoriya, could you help me with the hero analysis essay?"

Fuck.

I could recognize that voice anywhere, it was Todoroki.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Fuckkkkkkkkk, who does homework on a Friday night?!

In a moment of panic, I yelled, "In a minute!" while ripping the rope with some of my strength.
The wooden door protecting my darkest secret was the only thing keeping me safe.
In my haste to hide the evidence of my activities, I only had time to haphazardly hide my torn rope and book under the covers.

Hoping this was enough, I took a deep breath before slowly opening the door.