Izuku was honestly surprised by how much he liked living in the dorm.

Not that there was anything wrong with living with his mom. His mom was great, and had always done her best to take care of him on her own. Their apartment wasn't big, but it was cozy, and he'd never really needed any more space than they had. Sometimes it was quiet, and sometimes it felt like there was a lot of words that hung unspoken in the air, but his mom took care of him and her house would always be home.

Living in the dorm was different though. Being right next to the school, a few minutes walk from his classes and the places where he trained, made it feel like the whole campus was his home. Here he always had someone to study with, or train with, or talk to, no matter where or when he needed someone there. It was so nice eating every meal of every day surrounded by friends, the air full of their endless chatter and nothing left unsaid.

It was also nice living in the same building as Shouto and Hitoshi, but that was altogether different from the other perks of living in the dorms. Being so close together all of the time meant that they noticed things about each other, the type of things it might have otherwise taken years of acquaintance to learn. Izuku was getting to know all his friends better, but everything he learned about the two of them seemed somehow more important.

Like the fact that Hitoshi was secretly a cuddle bug.

They had been sitting in the common room, on a Sunday which was their day to rest from training, getting some reading done for English class. Izuku was fairly fluent in English, so he had breezed through it pretty quickly, but Hitoshi was trying very hard to puzzle it out. The more he concentrated on the book in his hands the less he was focused on sitting properly, so he ended up first pressed to Izuku's side, then leaning against him, then practically on top of him. Izuku didn't mind, he just took out his phone and started playing a game, but after a while he realized that he hadn't heard the page turn in a while and looked over at his friend.

Hitoshi, at some point, had rested enough of his weight on Izuku that he had managed to get comfortable, and now had apparently fallen asleep. The book lay open in his lap, ready to fall from his slack grip, and Izuku took it before it could drop to the floor. He set it on the side table and looked back at Hitoshi. He looked so peaceful in sleep, and Izuku couldn't help but think that the way his long purple lashes fanned out over his cheekbones was pretty. That thought made him blush, so he put it away and shifted a little so that Hitoshi was lying on his chest before tugging the blanket down off the back of the couch so it fell over the two of them.

Hitoshi didn't stir.

In fact, Hitoshi didn't stir for four hours.

It had been afternoon when they'd sat down to work on homework, but the sun was low in the sky by the time Hitoshi began to shift. Izuku had been playing on his phone, trying to type out the beginnings of an essay one-handed, but he put let his hand drop as Hitoshi lifted his head. Hitoshi blinked at him, bleary-eyed and sleepy, and Izuku couldn't help but smile at his adorable expression.

"Good morning sleepyhead," Izuku laughed lightly.

Suddenly a switch seemed to flip behind Hitoshi's eyes, and he blinked rapidly, staring at Izuku with dawning comprehension. Then he threw himself back, ending up in something approximating a sitting position, before making a little whining noise of protest.

"Why do my joints feel like they're full of packing peanuts?" Hitoshi asked, stretching so that Izuku could indeed hear his joints popping faintly.

"That's what happens when you fall asleep somewhere that isn't a bed," Izuku informed him, sitting up and stretching his own stiff body. "Have you been to see Recovery Girl about your insomnia? You slept like the dead."

"I still don't sleep very well at night," Hitoshi admitted, then looked vaguely scared as his back gave a loud cracking noise.

"You sleep OK during the day," Izuku chuckled. "At least when you've got someone to lean on, apparently."

Hitoshi looked at him, puzzled. "How long was I out?"

"A few hours," Izuku nodded at the large windows, at where the setting sun had shrouded campus in purple twilight. "It's around seven, I think."

"That long!?" Hitoshi said, staring at the windows in something like horror. "That's, like, a whole night's sleep for me!"

"You only sleep like four hours?" Izuku demanded in alarm. "How do you have the energy for anything!"

"I drink a lot of coffee," Hitoshi replied replied dryly, turning to look back at Izuku. Then he went pink and looked away again. "Sorry I fell asleep on you."

"It's OK," Izuku assured him. "If it'll help you get some rest you can fall asleep on me whenever you want."

Hitoshi's blush deepened, and suddenly Izuku realized how that must have sounded.

"Not that I want that or anything!" Izuku said hurriedly, closing his eyes against the sight of Hitoshi's flushed cheeks as he felt his own face heating up. "I mean, I do want you to get some sleep, because it's really important for our bodies to rest and since you have a mental quirk being sleep deprived probably isn't the best thing for you, so I don't mind being your pillow if it means that you can-"

"Izuku," Hitoshi interrupted, and Izuku opened his eyes to find Hitoshi looking at him with a small,

grateful smile. "Thank you."

"Right," Izuku nodded shakily. "No problem."

"Oh, are you two done cuddling?" said a voice from the direction of the kitchen, and Izuku's head whipped around to find Shouto emerging back into the common room with one of the water bottles the fridge was always stocked with.

"We weren't cuddling!" Izuku and Hitoshi protested at the same time.

Shouto's expression didn't change, but he tilted his head to the side cutely. "It looked like you were cuddling. Hitoshi, you were asleep, right? You looked really peaceful."

"I was," Hitoshi admitted, looking aside and blushing to the tips of his ears. "Asleep, I mean."

"It was nice of you to let him sleep Izuku," Shouto said, then maintaining his usual monotone went on, "Of course, it seems like it'd be nice to sleep with someone like that, so close together."

"OK!" Izuku said, swinging his legs over and standing up from the couch. "Who wants to get dinner!"

Shouto was making those kinds of jokes more and more often, and they were making Izuku feel increasingly funny inside. He knew Shouto didn't mean it -- or at least he thought Shouto didn't mean it -- but it made Izuku's heart flutter strangely every time. It was nice to see Shouto showing more of a sense of humor, since he'd been very serious when they'd first met, but Izuku couldn't help but feel he was picking it up more from Hitoshi than anyone else, and that might not have been a good thing.

There were other things about Shouto he was noticing, of course. Like how he tended not to announce himself immediately upon entering a room, and instead would watch silently until he felt he could contribute to a conversation, which given how quietly he moved generally made a few people jump. Like how he preferred to sit on the couch with other people, even if he might have had a piece of furniture to himself. Like how he liked tea at bedtime but never boiled his own water, and would wait for Yaoyorozu to make her tea before claiming what was left of the water in the kettle.

Like how he was absolutely useless in the kitchen, even beyond the issue with the kettle.

Ever since he'd been little Izuku liked to cook with his mom. It was fun, even when all he'd really been able to do was stir the bowl or wash the rice, and the older he'd gotten the more he could help. Spending time together was nice, but knowing he was making things easier for her was better. However, Shouto had clearly never been invited to cook with anyone in his life, and the things he didn't know were piling up in Izuku's mind.

"Not like that!" Izuku said hurriedly, glancing over at the cutting board where Shouto was chopping vegetables.

"Huh?" Shouto asked, looking up at him in perfect bewilderment. "What's wrong?"

"You're going to cut your fingers off!" Izuku insisted, then quickly set down his spoon and went to go stand behind Shouto.

"Izuku-" Shouto began, unsure, but Izuku merely wound his arms around Shouto's middle and placed his hands over Shouto's.

"Here," he said, adjusting Shouto's grip on both the knife and the vegetable, "like this. That way if you get too close to your hand, the knife will just slide down your knuckle instead of cutting off your finger tip."

"Right," said Shouto, sounding a little breathless for some reason. "Thanks."

Shouto started cutting things correctly after that, but he was still very uncertain in the kitchen, and Izuku decided an intervention was in order.

"You want to make mochi?" Hitoshi asked dubiously when Izuku made the offer.

"Yes!" Izuku chirped happily.

"You want it to be the three of us, no one else in class?" Shouto wondered hopefully.

"Yes!" Izuku replied, taking the other two by the hands and beginning to drag them towards the kitchen.

"This is about giving both of us a lesson in kitchen safety isn't it?" Hitoshi speculated dully. Izuku grinned, even though his two friends couldn't see it.

"Yes!"

Izuku did give them a lesson in kitchen safety. He went over knife techniques, burner handling and where the fire extinguisher was, although he supposed Hitoshi needed that more than Shouto. Then they made mochi, which was a bit of an adventure but was, in the end, delicious.

"So you've never made mochi before?" Hitoshi asked Shouto once they were eating the slightly slapdash fruits of their labor.

"No," Shouto said, after swallowing his bite, looking at the sweet in his hand as though in fascination. "I've never even had them before."

Izuku inhaled the piece of mochi in his mouth, and Hitoshi had to thump him on the back until he coughed it up.

"Never?" Izuku croaked once he could breathe again.

"My old man doesn't care for sweets," Shouto explained, voice growing slightly colder, as though he couldn't help it. "He says they're not good fuel for training. He wouldn't have had them in the house, and I didn't get out very much before."

"Well that settles it," Hitoshi said, then put the last bite of his piece in his mouth and continued around it. "We're going to have to kill him."

Shouto snorted loudly, bending his head as though to hide his laugher, but Izuku could see the smile making the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

Hitoshi never thought he'd be so comfortable around other people his age.

Elementary and middle school hadn't been fun for Hitoshi. After he'd gotten his quirk, the creepy kids who only wanted to talk about how he could use it for evil were the nicest to interact with. Most kids avoided him, and eventually he learned to be polite to the creepy ones if he wanted to

have someone to talk to. He never liked them though. Even they were guarded, hesitant about talking and replying to him, and their attitudes always made him want to vomit. Knowing that they would be doing all those bad things they talked about if they had his quirk almost made him glad he was the one who had gotten it.

Almost.

His classmates at UA were definitely different though. Sure most of them had physical quirks, were born lucky like he always assumed hero students would be, but some of them had definitely had a difficult time in middle school as well. None of them looked at him askance or whispered about him, and none of them seemed at all wary of him outside of training. They trusted him not to use his quirk for evil. After all, if he were going to do that, why would he be here? They all treated him with respect, but Izuku and Shouto in particular made him feel truly welcome.

Before meeting Izuku, he never would have guessed a quirkless kid could be so strong. Before meeting Shouto, he never would have guessed that a hero's son could be so vulnerable. Both of them were willing to share those long-guarded parts of themselves, the pieces broken into jagged edges by society's expectations. Some days Hitoshi wondered what they saw in him, what side of himself that he'd buried so deeply as to forget about it he had unearthed for their benefit. Whatever the case, he wanted it to be something good. He wanted to be someone who could help them, and more importantly, protect them.

It was Izuku that he noticed acting strangely first. UA's resident quirkless hero was more of a social butterfly than he liked to give himself credit for, but Hitoshi started to notice that after a certain point in the day he began to grow less and less comfortable around their classmates. It varied from day to day, and Hitoshi found himself looking for patterns. It depended a lot on how much time they'd spent together as a class, clustered in a large group rather than breaking off into teams of two or three for training or studying, and after he'd reached his limit the larger the group he was in the more uncomfortable he acted.

Eventually Hitoshi decided to bring his suspicions up with Shouto, and together the two of them came up with a plan.

"Izuku," Hitoshi called across the common room one afternoon, on a day when heroics class had involved most of the class staying together rather than pairing off.

Izuku, who was sandwiched on the couch between Kirishima and Ashido, being bombarded on both sides with what sounded like two entirely different conversations, snapped his head around to look at Hitoshi.

"Yeah?" he asked innocently, even while his eyes pleaded for escape.

"Me and Shouto want help with our English," Hitoshi beckoned him over to the table where he and Shouto both had their textbooks out. "Do you think you could give us a hand?"

"Sure!" Izuku said cheerfully, jumping off the couch and skirting around it to join the two of them at the table. "What are you-"

"Actually can we go to my room?" Shouto asked. "It's loud down here."

Izuku paused as though caught off guard, then smiled gratefully. "Sure, if you want."

The three of them packed up and headed for Shouto's room, which was on the top floor. Very few of the boys had actually seen each other's rooms, even though the girls had been eager to show off

to each other, and Hitoshi himself had only gotten a peak at Izuku's room. He'd seen a Wild Wild Pussycats alarm clock and figured it would be as hero-focused as the rest of Izuku.

He had not been prepared for Shouto's room.

"This is modeled differently than my room," Hitoshi said, staring around at the aggressively Japanese interior design.

"Yeah are the top floor rooms bigger?" Izuku asked, blinking in confusion.

"I made a few alterations," Shouto said offhandedly, leading the way inside. "We have these kind of floor matts at my house, they're much more comfortable than hardwood."

That was that, Hitoshi supposed, and the three of them settled in to study. The floor matts were, in fact, very comfortable, and before he knew it hours had passed and his phone said it was time for dinner. The door to the balcony was hidden behind an additional wall, which Hitoshi had no idea how Shouto had acquired, but even without being able to see the fading light his growling stomach reminded him of the late hour.

"Hey, guys?" Izuku said as they were gathering up their things.

Hitoshi and Shouto looked over at him, pausing in the act of putting things away or stacking them to carry.

"Thank you," Izuku said, looking sheepishly at the floor. "I know I'm not great with crowds, even when it's people I know and like hanging out with, but it was really nice to hang out with just you two and recharge a little bit."

"Any time," Shouto replied easily, then went back to stowing his books away.

"Let one of us know if you're starting to get overwhelmed," Hitoshi advised as he stacked his things neatly with his pencil case on top. "We'll keep an eye out, but if we ever miss anything, feel free to suggest we go somewhere more isolated."

Hitoshi looked back at Izuku, to see that his smile was nearly blinding. "OK!" Shouto's issues, on the other hand, weren't as subtle as Izuku's.

Hitoshi came up against one of his fears one evening in the kitchen, where he'd been chatting with Yaoyorozu. She had been preparing her bedtime tea when Hitoshi came in to fix himself some warm milk, and the two of them had gotten to talking about Jirou and the kind of things she liked. Yayorozu seemed to think Hitoshi was an expert on things that were 'cool,' and had let his explanations of what headphones were best depending on if you preferred earbuds or headsets distract her from what she was doing. As such, she got the kettle on a little later than she might have, and it started to whistle just as Shouto walked in from the common room.

"I'm almost done," Yaoyorozu said, turning to take it off the stove. "You wanted tea too, right?" Shouto didn't answer her.

Hitoshi looked over at him, and immediately his heart lurched into his throat. Shouto was standing frozen in the entrance to the kitchen, one arm reached out toward the nearest wall but not close enough to use it to steady himself. His face was deathly pale, making his scar stand out all the more starkly. His eyes were wide and unfocused, and his mouth was open, drawing in sharp, staccato breaths. He looked completely terrified.

"Shouto?" Hitoshi asked, going over to his friend to look more closely at his face. It was completely ashen, almost gray in color.

Again, Shouto didn't answer.

"Can you hear me?" Hitoshi said, more urgently this time.

Shouto was silent, still breathing like he couldn't possibly get enough air. Hitoshi reached out to touch him, but Shouto flinched and Hitoshi withdrew his hand. He knew what this was, and touching Shouto if he didn't want to be touched would only make things worse.

Shouto was having a panic attack.

"Todoroki?" Yaoyorozu asked anxiously, and dimly Hitoshi registered that the kettle had stopped whistling.

"Shouto," Hitoshi said, making his voice as gentle as possible with how keyed-up he was feeling. "Shouto, can I help you sit down on the floor?"

Shouto nodded jerkily. Hitoshi put one hand on his shoulder and one hand on his back, and carefully he lowed the two of them to the ground. Shouto's movements were wobbly and unsteady, like he was barely holding himself upright. He was still staring blankly ahead, like he couldn't see what was in front of him.

Hitoshi had to do something for him. There was only one thing he could think to do.

"Shouto, I want to try something," Hitoshi said over Shouto's continued labored breathing. "I want to use my quirk. Can you respond to me?"

"I-I-" Shouto tried, but it was enough. His eyes went blank, and Hitoshi felt his control click into place.

"Calm your breathing," Hitoshi instructed, and immediately Shouto stopped hyperventilating and began to take deep, slow breaths.

This might actually work.

"Relax," Hitoshi ordered, as firmly and as soothingly as he could. "Release the tension in your body. Slow your heart rate back to normal. Feel the panic ebbing away as your body settles back into its normal state. Understand that you are in no danger, and believe me when I say that I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

Hitoshi took Shouto's wrist and felt his pulse. It was rabbit-fast against his fingers, but almost immediately it began to slow. Shouto continued to breath deep and even, and after a few moments his heart rate was back to something approximating resting. Hitoshi hesitated, then dropped his control, and was relieved to find Shouto looking back at him with clear, focused eyes.

"How did you do that?" Shouto breathed, and Hitoshi was startled to find that he could feel the words ghosting over his face. He drew back and cleared his throat before replying.

"I'm not sure," he confessed, looking off to one side. "I remembered how I was able to break Iida out of Stain's quirk, and your panic attack kinda reminded me of how he was paralyzed, so I just thought . . ."

He trailed off, feeling a little embarrassed. He didn't know why, it had worked after all. He hadn't

done anything wrong. No matter how much the little voice in his head told him he had.

The wrist in Hitoshi's hand twisted, and suddenly Shouto's hand was holding his. Hitoshi looked down at their joined hands in surprise, then looked back up at Shouto.

"Thank you," Shouto said quietly.

"Um," came Yaoyorozu's voice from behind them.

Hitoshi jolted and looked around. He'd almost forgotten that she was there. Yaoyorozu was standing a few feet away from them, holding a metallic silver kettle with buttons on the handle, quite unlike the one she had taken off the stove.

"I made an electric kettle," she said in a rush, looking anxiously between Hitoshi and Shouto. "It'll boil water even faster, and it beeps when it's ready instead of whistling. I made three and put them around the kitchen, and I'll put the stovetop kettle away on the top shelf so everyone knows not to use it, and-"

"Yaoyorozu," Shouto interrupted, cutting off her rambling explanation. He stood up from the kitchen floor, Hitoshi following close behind, and looked at her eye to eye. "Thank you as well. That makes me feel much better."

"Great," Yaoyorozu sighed in relief. "And, I'm sorry. I didn't know, and I should have realized, but . . . I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Shouto assured her, and she nodded shakily and went back to making tea.

Once both of them had their tea and Yaoyorozu had gone back to her room, Shouto and Hitoshi sat at one of the tables in the common area. For a while they were both silent, Shouto sipping his tea and Hitoshi sipping his milk. He could have gone back to his room, but it seemed wrong to leave Shouto alone right now. Hitoshi knew the aftermath of a panic attack could be as rough as the attack itself.

"Fuyumi makes the tea at home," Shouto said suddenly. Hitoshi looked at him warily. "Fuyumi. Your sister, right?"

"Yeah," Shouto nodded. "I guess it was unfair not to tell Yaoyorozu, but it just seemed to work out so well I didn't want to mention it."

"It's OK," Hitoshi assured him. "We know now."

"I haven't had one in years," Shouto admitted, in a small voice.

"Sometimes a new environment is just like that," Hitoshi said softly. "Sometimes there are things you'll just never be able to stand. The electric kettle is a good fix."

"Fuyumi tried to get one at home," Shouto told him. "Endeavor wouldn't have it in the house." "Didn't fit his aesthetic?" Hitoshi said bitterly.

Shouto looked down, a small, wry smile on his lips. "Yeah."

"Fuck him," said Hitoshi, with feeling.

Shouto looked up at him, blinking in surprise. Then he smiled, and his eyes went soft around the

corners. Hitoshi thought he could live on the warmth of that smile for a long, long time. He figured he might as well give it a try.

The dorms were wonderful, in Shouto's opinion.

It wasn't that he didn't miss Fuyumi and Natsuo, but they'd never really been close. They'd never really been allowed to be. They had their lives and he had his; sharing a house hadn't made them intersect all that much. His father and his frequent fits of temper hung over all of them like the blade of a guillotine, and made them all wary of seeking support in each other. He couldn't punish them by taking away a connection if they never made it in the first place.

As such Shouto found the dorm spectacularly freeing. It was amazing how often people just talked to each other, for no better reason than because they happened to be sharing a room or a table. Study groups and training partners were constantly being formed and reformed, different people going to each other for help with different things. Mealtimes were a chance for everyone to check in with everyone, and though they could get loud, Shouto enjoyed letting the chatter of his friends wash over him most of the time.

Usually the only people Shouto needed to check in with were Izuku and Hitoshi, and no one really judged him for that. The close knit relationship between the three of them was something everyone acknowledged, and many of the class took advantage of their closeness to maintain a friendship with the three of them at once. Izuku had become a kind of spokesperson for them, and classmates would frequently ask him how all of them were doing. Shouto was grateful for the buffer, but also grateful for the connection that would be there if he wanted it. He knew Hitoshi felt the same, even if he was a little more outgoing by himself.

It was because Izuku tended to speak for all three of them, maintaining a relationship with seemingly every person in class individually, that Shouto began to notice it. Izuku liked to do things for people. He often quite literally jumped at the chance. If a classmate asked him for something, either training ideas or help studying or even just for some mundane task, Izuku would do it with few or no questions asked. Hitoshi had noticed that Izuku tended to get burned out by being around crowds for too long, but Shouto had a theory as to why that was. Existing in a constant state of readiness to please so many people had to be exhausting.

It was only after a particularly long day, when Izuku had been pulled away from working on his English essay in the common room no less than four times to help other people, that Shouto decided to test his theory.

"Let's go to my room," Shouto said, as soon as Izuku sat down beside him after returning from helping Ashido at the next table over.

"Huh?" Izuku blinked at him in confusion. "But, Hitoshi's not back from training with Aizawa yet. Shouldn't we wait for him?"

"We don't have to wait down here," Shouto countered lightly. "I'll text him, and he can meet us upstairs."

Izuku didn't have an answer for this, so the two of them packed up and went up to Shouto's room. For a while Shouto waited, working on his own homework while Izuku made some headway on his essay. When Izuku finally paused, looking over what he'd already done as though wondering what to write next, Shouto finally spoke up.

"You remind me of Fuyumi a little," he said, for lack of a better way to broach the subject. Izuku looked up at him, confused. "What? Your sister?"

"Yeah," Shouto nodded, then tried to explain. "She's always doing stuff for other people, even though she has a lot on her own plate. She took over taking care of us and the house when mom went away, and she's a teacher now so she works with little kids who need a lot of attention. Still, you barely have to ask her to do something and she's jumping to do it."

"I'm not that bad, am I?" Izuku asked, smiling sadly and rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not bad," Shouto corrected. "It's good that you want to help people. But it makes me worried about both of you."

"I can get my own work done," Izuku assured him. "You don't have to worry about-" "That's not it," Shouto interrupted.

Izuku stared at him, blinking in confusion. "Then, what do you mean?"

Shouto watched Izuku for a moment, thinking. Izuku's big green eyes, sparkling in the light, were both an inspiration and a distraction. Finally Shouto looked down at the book in front of him and tried to find the words.

"You say that you know you can refuse," he began slowly, "but you never do. Whenever someone needs something, you're always there to help, even if they could easily get someone else to do it. It makes me wonder why you want to help so often, and what you think would happen if you did say no."

"I help because I want to help people," Izuku insisted simply. "They're my friends, I want to do everything I can to make sure they do well."

"Izuku," Shouto said, and he thought he might have figured it out, "you know they'll still be your friends even if you don't help, right?"

Izuku looked shocked, and Shouto knew he had found the root of it. Then Izuku averted his eyes, looking down at his essay rather than meeting Shouto's gaze.

"I know," he said weakly.

"Do you?" Shouto pressed. "We're all working to support each other, but we've all got to work on ourselves as well. If there's a day you can't help everyone, or even anyone, that's alright. The whole class isn't just going to go away."

"I just . . ." Izuku trailed off, still looking away. "I've never really had many friends, you know? So I want to do everything I can for the ones I do have. I want to be someone they can come to for help, that they know they can rely on. I just want to be useful."

"Being useful doesn't mean letting people use you," Shouto said.

"I-" Izuku began, then stopped. For a moment he was silent, staring with eyes unfocused. Then he looked back at Shouto.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "OK."

Hitoshi was the one who had realized they would sometimes need to make Izuku's excuses to

disappear upstairs for him, and Izuku had discovered that Hitoshi slept best when he had someone to cuddle. Shouto, for his part, was determined to take that information and use it to make life easier on both of them. He tried to be attentive to Izuku's mood, and used his naturally blunt way of speaking to deflect arguments from their classmates when he needed a break. Whenever he sat next to Hitoshi he positioned his left side to his friend, and did his best not to shift too obviously when Hitoshi inevitably ended up leaning on him.

It was during one such nap that Shouto made a discovery of his own.

Hitoshi could hardly ever resist the lure of Shouto's warm side, so he had been passed out against Shouto's shoulder for nearly an hour. Most of the times they did this would end with Shouto laying down with Hitoshi on top of him, but this time Hitoshi seemed content to just lean. He was breathing evenly, and Shouto had been absorbed in the textbook his was reading when suddenly he began to hear a faint snuffling noise.

Shouto listened, and found that Hitoshi's breathing had become a little faster. He turned his head, slowly and carefully, and looked down to find Hitoshi's forehead creased and his purple eyebrows knit together. His mouth was forming words but no sound was coming out. He was clearly dreaming, and whatever he was dreaming about, it wasn't pleasant.

"Hitoshi," Shouto said quietly.

Hitoshi didn't respond, only continuing to mouth words to the conversation his mind was having with itself.

"Hitoshi," Shouto repeated, louder this time, shifting a little so that Hitoshi was laying against his chest rather than his shoulder.

Again Hitoshi didn't rouse, but he did gasp and begin to make little noises of protest.

"Hitoshi!" Shouto said sharply, taking him by the upper arm to shake him a little, and Hitoshi jolted upright.

"It's not my fault!" Hitoshi cried, then blinked rapidly, looking around at the empty common room.

"You were having a bad dream," Shouto explained when Hitoshi looked around at him. "I thought it was best to wake you up."

"Thanks," said Hitoshi, and after a few moments leaned back against the back of the couch. "Sorry you had to see that."

"It's alright," Shout assure him. He shifted a little closer to Hitoshi, and was gratified when his friend curled into him somewhat. "What were you dreaming about?"

"Middle school," Hitoshi said dully, not looking at Shouto. "You know how it is." "Not really," Shouto confessed. "I didn't go to middle school."

"Right," Hitoshi said, ducking his head down like he was trying to snuggle into his scarf. It certainly was an intuitive weapon for him, Shouto thought, if he were trying to use it even while not wearing it.

"You said something wasn't your fault," Shouto prompted.

"It's stupid," Hitoshi said, curling in on himself still further. "The other kids would just . . . try to

get me in trouble. Whenever one of them would get caught doing something wrong, they'd try to say I'd made them. They'd put stuff in my bag and said I'd stolen it, or made the owner give it to me. The girls never wanted to be alone with me, and . . ."

He trailed off, and Shouto frowned. "But the girls in our class all said you saved them from Mineta. They all trust you, and wanted you in class."

Hitoshi smiled ruefully. "Not all girls are like hero course girls. They don't all need evidence to think of you as a villain."

Shouto thought about that for a moment. He could see the truth of it, he supposed. Not everyone needed evidence to judge someone and find them lacking. Not everyone was willing to pass judgement even with compelling evidence.

"I have nightmares too," he confessed.

Finally Hitoshi looked up at him, eyes wide and sympathetic. "Yeah?"

"Mostly about my mom," Shouto went on. "I see him hitting her, and her falling to the floor. I see her crying."

Shouto couldn't bring himself to go into any more detail than that, and Hitoshi didn't press him. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, huddled in the warmth from Shouto's left side. Then Hitoshi spoke, in a calm and measured voice, but with real passion behind his words.

"We're going to become splendid heroes," he said, "and we're going to make them sorry they did those things."

"I don't think it'd be very heroic to get revenge on all of them," Shouto countered tiredly.

"No," Hitoshi shook his head, and Shouto felt the movement as his hair brushed against him. "You don't understand. We're not going to be heroes just to make them sorry. They're going to be sorry just because we're heroes."

Shouto thought about that for a moment. Even though he couldn't have quite explained it, it made a strange kind of sense. Unsure of what to say, he nodded.

"Also," said Hitoshi sulkily, "fuck Endeavor." Shouto couldn't stop himself from laughing.

Theoretically Izuku knew that the teachers were doing regular security checks. The staff had their own dormitory building, and were available in case there was an emergency at night, but they also regularly patrolled the student dorms to make sure everyone was safe. Logically that would mean that there might be a teacher in any given dorm at any given hour of the night, but Izuku still found himself nearly screaming in surprise when he went down to the kitchen for a midnight snack and found Mic already rooting through the fridge.

"You alright there 'lil listener?" Mic asked, looking up at Izuku's yelp.

"Yeah," Izuku said, one hand to his heart, feeling it pound beneath his fingers. "I just wasn't expecting anyone to be down here."

"You should be catchin' some Z's," Mic scolded, giving Izuku a look over the tops of his shades. "I was just hungry," Izuku assured him. "I'll go right back to bed after I eat something."

Mic pulled two water bottles out of the fridge, then offered Izuku a bowl of grapes that had been in there as well. It was a healthier midnight snack than Izuku had been wanting, but he sat at the kitchen table and began munching on them anyway. To his surprise Mic pulled up a chair beside him, and the two of them sat together, Mic watching Izuku .

"So, how're you liking the dorm?" Mic asked, after they'd been sitting in silence a moment. "I know it's a bit of an adjustment being away from home for the first time, but you seem to be settling in just fine."

"Yeah, it's been great actually," Izuku said, then popped a grape into his mouth and squished it between his teeth. "Everyone's been getting a lot closer, and it's easier to spend more time training since everything is so close."

"According to Aizawa you've been doing group training more often than not," Mic said, with a teasing smile. "You and Shinsou got a pretty long set list huh?."

"The two of us and Shouto," Izuku agreed around another grape, "but Yaoyorozu sometimes drops by to help me train with staffs. She says I'm coming along really well, even though we haven't had much time to go over more advanced techniques."

"You, Shinsou and Todoroki are a bit of a trio eh?" Mic stroked his moustache. "Reminds me of when I was in school."

"Did you have two friends you hung out with a lot too?" Izuku wondered.

"Oh yeah!" Mic laughed. "Back then it was me, Aizawa, and our friend Shirakumo. We were the main trio at UA, everyone knew we were inseparable!"

"What was Aizawa-sensei like in school?" Izuku asked, fascinated by the idea of learning about his teachers' school days. "What about your other friend? Were you really that close?"

"Aizawa's barely changed at all since UA," Mic insisted, grinning. "He was just as grumpy back then, but Shirakumo could always get him to smile. Shirakumo was the star of our class really, right after your favorite Voice Hero of course, but he was always dragging Aizawa out into the spotlight with him."

"Sounds like Shouto," Izuku said, a smile on his face as he thought of how Shouto had never once considered leaving him or Hitoshi behind.

"Nah," Mic waved a hand, "Shirakumo was a huge flirt."

I'd just prefer the name to be something that's only mine, you know? said Shouto's voice inside

Izuku's head. When do I get a personal consultation with you, Izuku?

"No," Izuku shook his head, feeling his face heat up, "that's definitely Shouto."

Mic looked confused for a moment, but then laughed. "Guess history repeats itself, huh?"

"Yeah," Izuku agreed, then paused. "So, where does this Shirakumo guy work now? He's not a UA teacher. Does he do full time hero work?"

Mic's smile faltered, but he hitched it almost immediately back in place. "That's a story for another day, 'lil listener."

Izuku didn't have to ask any more; he could guess what that meant. He wanted to apologize, but that would just press the issue, so he shoved two more grapes into his mouth instead.

"I'm glad you've got good friends though," Mic said, after a moment of silence. "It's good to have people you know you can trust."

Izuku swallowed, then nodded. "I trust them more than I've ever trusted anyone," he confessed. "They're the best friends I've ever had."

"Just be carefully not to trust everyone so easily," Mic said seriously. "It's not hard for someone to see how kind you are and take advantage."

"Don't worry about that," Izuku said, as reassuringly as he could. "Believe me, Shouto and Hitoshi are super protective. I don't have to worry with them looking out for me."

"Right," Mic said, and for a moment his smile looked a little sad. Then he stood up, striking a dramatic pose. "I better get rockin' and rollin'! You head on up to bed now, ya hear?"

"Yes sir," Izuku said, then stood up and took the bowl of grapes back to the fridge. By the time he closed the door and looked back, Mic had already gone.