Chapter Fifteen – Ice Cream and Broken Chairs

"You just gotta be yourself, man," Sero said with a chuckle, rifling through Clay's closet. "Yeesh… Better hope she likes flannel…"

Clay lay sprawled on his bed, his head resting on the pillow as he stared at the ceiling. His hand absentmindedly stroked Skipper's back, the little rodent twitching contentedly. "She doesn't seem like the type to care," Clay muttered, his tone calm but distracted.

Kirishima, meanwhile, was lounging in Clay's chair, his feet propped up on the desk like it was his own room. "Flannel's manly," he said confidently, grinning as he laced his fingers behind his head. "Just… not really first date material, y'know?"

"You even going tonight?" Sero asked, holding up the closest thing to decent he could find—a buffalo plaid flannel that looked only a year or two old.

"Yup," Clay muttered, still staring at the ceiling. "She's meetin' me outside in about an hour."

"Still thinking about the tournament?" Kirishima asked, leaning back casually in the chair.

"Shinso earned it. It's that simple," Clay replied, his voice steady.

"Only because you let him beat you in the first round. Bakugo didn't stand a chance after that," Sero said, tossing the flannel onto the bed before crossing his arms.

"He still mad?" Clay asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Mad?" Kirishima snorted, shaking his head with a grin. "He's furious. You basically gift-wrapped him a loss and handed it to Shinso. Dude's been blowing up every practice dummy he can find for the last hour."

Sero laughed, flopping down on the bed next to Clay. "You might wanna stay out of his way for a few days. He's acting like you took away his shot at being number one or something."

Clay shrugged, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling. "Ain't my fault if he can't handle losin'. Shinso played it smart, and I gave him a fair shot when the school wouldn't. That's all there is to it."

Kirishima nodded thoughtfully, though his grin didn't fade. "Fair enough, man. Shinso deserved it, and honestly, you're probably the only one who'd give him that kind of chance." He paused, leaning back in the chair. "But Bakugo's not exactly the forgiving type, y'know? He'll hold onto this like it's personal."

"Everything's personal to him," Sero chimed in, propping himself up on his elbows. "You could save his life and he'd still yell at you for doing it wrong."

Clay smirked faintly, finally shifting his gaze from the ceiling to his friends. "Let him stay mad. He can cry about it if it helps." Blinking a few times, he finally sat up, looking at the flannel for a moment before putting it over his undershirt. "Ya'll are actin' like I'm meeting the ghost of Johnny Cash… Not going out for ice cream."

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Johnny Cash? Dude, this is way bigger than that. It's Tsu." He leaned forward, pointing dramatically. "Ice cream is sacred first-date territory, even if you're too stubborn to call it that."

Sero snickered, nodding in agreement. "You're walking into this way too casually, man. Ice cream's a statement. It says, 'Hey, I'm chill, but also, I care.'"

Clay rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth tugged upward despite himself. "I didn't realize ya'll were experts on ice cream dates." He thought for a moment, then he turned to Kirishima as he buttoned up his shirt. "Do ya'll even know who Johnny Cash is?" he asked with a chuckle, looking down and determining that his jeans were clean enough.

Kirishima looked momentarily lost, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Johnny Cash... uh, is he, like, a cowboy or something?"

Sero smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned back on the bed. "He's the 'Man in Black,' isn't he? Wrote some songs about prison and heartbreak?"

Clay let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he buttoned the last of his shirt. "I'll make Americans out of you yet…" he muttered. "Here, I'll even tuck my shirt in. I don't do that for just anyone."

Kirishima burst out laughing, slapping his knee. "Wow, we're getting the fancy treatment! Tucked-in shirt and everything? You really are pulling out all the stops, cowboy."

Sero grinned, leaning forward with mock seriousness. "That's how you know it's serious, man. A tucked shirt? That's commitment. Next thing we know, you'll be shining your boots."

Clay rolled his eyes, but his smirk lingered as he finished adjusting his shirt. "I don't shine my boots for just anyone, either. That's reserved for weddin's and funerals." He reached over to grab his hat, settling it on his head with a practiced motion.

"Well, I hope Tsu appreciates the effort," Kirishima said, giving him a thumbs-up. "She's getting a top-tier version of you tonight. All polished up and ready to charm her socks off."

Clay glanced at himself in the mirror, tugging at the edges of his flannel as if it would magically look more presentable. After a moment, he sighed, pulled off his hat, and flopped back down onto the bed.

"I already gotta compete with whatever garbage Mina's fillin' Tsu's head with…" he muttered, the corners of his mouth pulling into a wry, resigned smile.

Meanwhile, in Tsuyu's room, the atmosphere was a mix of quiet focus and playful energy. Mina was sprawled across Tsuyu's bed, holding up a mirror and chatting animatedly, while Ochaco carefully adjusted the hem of Tsuyu's skirt.

"Okay, but hear me out," Mina said, her grin practically glowing. "What if we added a pop of color? Rural folk like bright colors. Maybe a ribbon or something? It says, 'I'm fun but also totally ready for ice cream romance.'"

"Ribbit," Tsuyu replied, her tone flat as ever, though a faint blush dusted her cheeks. "It's just ice cream, Mina. I don't need to look fancy."

Tsuyu glanced at herself in the mirror Mina was holding, her wide eyes taking in the simple yet neat outfit she'd chosen: a soft green blouse that complemented her natural colors and a casual skirt. Her gaze lingered on her reflection for a moment before turning back to Mina and Ochaco. "I think... this is fine. Thanks for helping, ribbit."

"Of course!" Ochaco chirped, clapping her hands together. "This is exciting! Your first—uh—ice cream outing with someone!"

"Yeah, yeah, call it what you want," Mina teased, winking. "Just remember—when he says something sweet, don't let it catch you off guard. Act cool. Like, cooler than you already are, if that's even possible."

Tsuyu blinked, her calm expression unchanging. "I don't think he'll say anything too surprising, ribbit. It's just Clay."

Mina and Ochaco exchanged a glance, then both burst into laughter.

"That's what makes it surprising!" Mina said through her giggles. "Clay's the type to say something totally out of left field and act like it's the most normal thing in the world."

A soft knock at the door interrupted them. Ochaco turned toward it, her expression curious. "Do you think he's here already?"

"No, ribbit," Tsuyu replied, her voice calm. "He said he'd meet me outside." She adjusted her blouse slightly, her movements unhurried. "But I should probably go now."

Mina hopped up from the bed, giving her a thumbs-up.

Ochaco laughed, adding, "Have fun, Tsu! And don't forget to tell us everything later!"

Tsuyu nodded, her usual calm demeanor intact, though a faint pink blush lingered on her cheeks as she moved to answer the door.

Standing there was Jiro, casually twirling her extended earlobe around her finger. "I could hear everything Mina said," she remarked with a smirk. "Didn't even have to plug in."

Mina groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. "Of course, you heard! Why don't you come in and share your commentary, too?"

Jiro shrugged, leaning casually against the doorframe. "I was going to let you all finish your little pep talk first, but since I'm already here…" She stepped inside, crossing her arms. Her smirk softened slightly as she looked at Tsuyu. "You look good. Simple, but it suits you."

"Ribbit," Tsuyu said softly, her blush deepening ever so slightly. "Thanks, Jiro."

Jiro tilted her head toward Mina and Ochaco, her tone playful but with a hint of genuine curiosity. "So, how many relationship lectures have these two given you so far?"

"Not lectures," Ochaco protested, laughing. "We're just hyping her up! It's her first ice cream date—uh, outing!"

"I'm leaving," Tsuyu said flatly.

Just outside, beneath the warm evening sky, Clay held Skipper up at eye level, his expression one of mock seriousness. "Don't look at me like that. It's Tsu and Clay, not Tsu, Clay, and Skipper."

Skipper responded with an indignant barrage of squeaks, his furry body quivering with energy.

Clay smirked, unable to resist the humor of the moment. "Okay, language," he said, raising a brow. "Notice how only one of us is yellin'. You could go in and hang out with Koda's critters… Or you could hang out with Mina."

Skipper squeaked sharply, his tone making it clear he wasn't thrilled with either option.

Clay chuckled, shaking his head as he gave the little rat a gentle scratch behind the ears. "Well, I'm sorry about your luck," he said with a teasing smirk.

His eyes flicked upward, catching sight of Tsuyu through the window as she made her way toward the door. "Come on," he muttered, setting Skipper down gently on the ground. "You knew this was comin'."

Skipper scurried in a small circle, chittering in a tone that sounded suspiciously like protest before darting toward Clay's boot and climbing back up to his pocket. Clay sighed, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward in amusement. "Stubborn little thing," he muttered, his hand diving into his pocket.

The door creaked open, and Tsuyu stepped out into the cool evening air, her usual calm demeanor unchanged. Her wide eyes settled on Clay, then flicked briefly to Skipper's head poking out of his pocket.

"You're bringing him, ribbit?" she asked, her voice carrying a faint note of curiosity.

Clay shrugged, tugging at his flannel in a half-hearted attempt to smooth it out. "Not by choice…" he muttered, fishing a wiggling Skipper from his pocket as he turned toward the door.

"Excuse me, please," he said politely, holding the door open and spotting Momo lounging nearby with a book in her hands. Without missing a beat, he tossed Skipper toward her with a quick, "Catch."

Momo blinked, her reflexes kicking in just in time to catch the little rat. She gave Clay a bewildered look as he smirked and shut the door behind him, turning to Tsuyu.

"Sorry 'bout that," he said, his voice easy and light as if nothing unusual had just happened. "He'll be okay."

Tsuyu blinked at the door, then back at Clay, her expression as calm and unreadable as ever. "You're confident she won't just put him outside, ribbit," she said, her voice even.

Clay chuckled, brushing off her concern with a casual wave. "Momo's too proper for that. She'll probably set him up with a five-star rat hotel before we even get back."

Tsuyu tilted her head slightly, her large eyes narrowing just a fraction. "And if she doesn't?"

"Well, then I'll have to buy him ice cream later as an apology." Clay smirked, hooking his thumbs into his pockets as they started walking. "But Momo'll take care of him. She's all class."

Tsuyu nodded, seemingly satisfied with the explanation, and fell into step beside him. The quiet sound of their footsteps mingled with the faint hum of the evening as they made their way toward the edge of campus.

"I didn't think you'd go through the trouble of dressing up, ribbit," Tsuyu said after a moment, her voice as straightforward as ever.

"I'm glad you noticed," Clay said with a dry chuckle, his tone light but tinged with a hint of self-consciousness. The tucked-in shirt felt strange and awkward, but the way Tsuyu seemed to approve made it more than worth it.

"Some sports festival today…" he added, his voice turning more thoughtful. "Wish I'd been there… y'know, mentally, for capture the flag. It sounded like fun."

"You seem tense," Tsuyu said, her wide eyes studying him closely.

"Paparazzi," Clay muttered, his tone flat.

"Ribbit?"

With a smirk, Clay tilted his head and gestured behind them toward one of the dorm room windows. Sure enough, Mina and Ochaco were perched there, grinning ear to ear. Mina held her phone up, clearly snapping pictures, while Ochaco waved enthusiastically in their direction.

Tsuyu turned her head, her gaze steady as she looked back at the two girls. Without missing a beat, she raised a hand and waved back, her expression calm but with the faintest glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"They're thorough, ribbit," she said, turning back to Clay with her usual composure.

Clay let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, thorough's one way to put it. Can't say I'm surprised though—Mina's like a bloodhound when there's gossip involved."

The two strolled peacefully beneath the warm glow of the setting sun, the quiet rhythm of their steps filling the space between bursts of conversation. Their talks flowed effortlessly, alternating between comfortable silence and lighthearted chatter.

They touched on a variety of topics, from the subtle differences between their home countries—Clay sharing humorous anecdotes about life in the countryside, while Tsuyu offered thoughtful insights about growing up in Japan—to their impressions of the sports festival. Clay joked about how much of it he could barely remember, and Tsuyu pointed out moments he might have overlooked, her tone calm but tinged with subtle humor.

The more they talked, the more the evening felt like an unspoken exchange of understanding, a gentle give-and-take that required no effort to maintain.

"Has anyone talked to you about knocking Neito Monoma out yet?" Tsuyu asked, her tone as calm as ever.

"Was that the guy who copied my Quirk?" Clay asked, raising a brow.

"Yes, ribbit."

Clay shook his head with a faint chuckle. "Nope. Ol' Sunshine already wanted to crack my head open for lettin' Shinso win. I figure he's either savin' it for later or lettin' Nezu be the one to bring it up."

Tsuyu blinked slowly, her expression thoughtful as she tilted her head slightly. "Neito has a reputation, ribbit. He's not exactly popular with his classmates—or ours. I doubt anyone feels bad about what you did."

Clay smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets as they strolled. "Guess I did him a favor, then. Knocked some sense into him, or at least some silence." He glanced at Tsuyu, his tone turning playful. "But if I'm in trouble for it, you think you'd vouch for me? Tell 'em I was defending the honor of Class 1-A or somethin'?"

"You didn't know who he was until I told you," Tsuyu replied evenly, though her lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. "They didn't say we couldn't use our Quirks against eachother."

"My right hook is my Quirk?" Clay asked, raising an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a teasing smirk.

"You know what I meant, ribbit," Tsuyu replied evenly, though there was the faintest hint of amusement in her tone.

Clay chuckled, tilting his head. "How much to keep the secret that I enjoyed it?"

Tsuyu glanced ahead, her finger lifting to point at a cozy little corner shop down the street. Warm light spilled from the windows, and inside, numerous young couples chatted over bowls of ice cream, their laughter carrying into the evening air.

"A bowl of ice cream," she said simply, her tone as steady as ever but her wide eyes betraying a hint of mischief.

"I think I can manage that…" Clay said, pulling his old brown leather wallet from his pocket. With an easy motion, he held the door open for Tsuyu, letting her step inside first.

The cozy warmth of the ice cream shop greeted them, and as Clay's eyes wandered to the board next to the register, he froze, his brows shooting up in surprise.

"Sweet potato ice cream? That's actually real?" he muttered, leaning closer to read it again, as if the words might change. "I thought they were just messin' with me."

Tsuyu stepped up beside him, her usual calm demeanor intact as she studied the menu with quiet focus. "It's real," she confirmed, glancing at him with the faintest glimmer of amusement in her wide eyes. "It's popular, ribbit. Want to try it?"

Clay scratched his beard, his expression skeptical. "Guess it couldn't hurt. Long as it doesn't taste like mashed potatoes."

Tsuyu tilted her head thoughtfully. "It's sweeter than you'd expect. You might like it."

"Well, I trust your judgment," he said with a small shrug, stepping up to the counter. "I'll take a scoop of that sweet potato ice cream, then."

The cashier smiled and nodded, ringing up his order. Tsuyu placed hers just as calmly—matcha, a classic—and the two settled into a small booth by the window. The light chatter of other patrons filled the air, blending with the occasional clink of spoons against bowls.

"If you'd told me I'd be eatin' potato ice cream and likin' it…" Clay said, spooning another bite into his mouth. The creamy, smooth texture was unexpectedly pleasant. "What's that you got there? Someone told me matcha was good."

"It's tea," Tsuyu replied simply, spooning a bite of her pale green dessert with an elegance so calm and effortless that Clay found himself staring. She prepared another spoonful, glancing at him before holding it out.

"You know that'd be as good as kissin'?"

"It's going to happen anyway, ribbit," Tsuyu replied matter-of-factly, her bluntness disarming as always.

Clay couldn't help but grin. He leaned forward, reaching to take the spoon himself, but Tsuyu's eyes told him she'd been planning to feed it to him directly. Instead, he carefully took the spoon from her hand.

The matcha-flavored ice cream hit his tongue—earthy and subtly sweet. It wasn't bad, but his focus lingered more on Tsuyu. Her wide eyes watched him intently, brimming with calm attentiveness that felt genuine without being overbearing. Her demeanor was deliberate, yet never detached.

"Not bad," Clay said with a chuckle as he handed the spoon back. "But I think I'll stick to potato. What's the word for it…?"

"Earthy?" she suggested.

"Yeah, that'd do," he said, digging back into his own bowl. He studied her for a moment, trying to pin down why matcha seemed to suit her so well. Maybe it was the calm, green shade matching her aura, or perhaps it was the way the flavor carried a quiet sophistication. Eating it made him feel smarter for some reason—maybe because smart folks drink tea. He laughed softly to himself.

"Hmm?" Tsuyu asked, her spoon leaving her mouth, still connected to her tongue.

"Oh, nothin'," Clay said, shaking his head. "Just didn't think my first date would involve potato and tea ice cream in Japan. Definitely not what Ma had in mind."

"It's your first date?" Tsuyu asked, her tone free of judgment or critique.

"I think so," Clay admitted, sitting up a little straighter. He gestured to his beard with a smirk. "Ladies like a good beard, but there were better whiskers out there back home."

"I like it," Tsuyu murmured, her bluntness softening into a faint smile. "I think this is my first date too."

"Coulda fooled me," Clay said with an easy laugh.

"Mina gave me lots of advice," Tsuyu replied.

"Sounds like her. Sero and Kirishima tried their best on me."

Before Tsuyu could respond, the bell on the shop door rang. A man walked in—a shark-like hybrid with a massive frame and stiff posture. He didn't even glance at the other patrons as he approached the counter.

Clay's eyes narrowed, immediately recognizing the way the man's sweatshirt bulged awkwardly at one pocket, his arm angled unnaturally. "Thought guns were illegal here," Clay muttered under his breath. "Excuse me, please," he added, standing up before Tsuyu could stop him.

The shark growled at the shop owner, shaking his hidden arm threateningly. "All the money in the register, gramps. Nobody has to—"

A sharp crack reverberated through the store as Clay brought a chair down on the man's back, wood splintering in every direction. With practiced ease, he shoved the shark forward as he stumbled, planting a boot firmly on the back of his shoulder.

The shark groaned, his hand leaving his pocket to reveal a pistol. Before he could react, Clay dropped his weight onto the man's shoulder while grabbing his wrist. Rats scurried from Clay's sleeves, awkwardly squeezing through the tighter flannel but swarming the man's hand in a coordinated mob.

Tsuyu's tongue shot out in a blur, expertly snatching the gun by its barrel and pulling it safely away.

Panting lightly, Clay stood, keeping his boot pressed against the shark's neck. "You idiot," he huffed, shaking his head. "I paid 4,000 yen for that ice cream. I dunno if that's a lot, but you ruined my date!"

"Clay…" Tsuyu said, her calm voice breaking through as she held the gun with her tongue. "What do I do with this?"

Clay glanced over, extending a hand to take it. "Safety's still on? What were you gonna do, safety us all to death?" he quipped, flipping the safety off. He stepped off the shark but kept the gun leveled at him.

"Don't shoot me!" the shark whined, his voice shaky.

"Won't have to if you stay still, friend," Clay replied, sparing a glance at the broken chair scattered around the stunned patrons. His gaze returned to the pistol, still slick with Tsuyu's saliva. "Thanks for buying American. Means a lot," he muttered dryly.

Turning to the shop owner, who stood frozen behind the counter, Clay offered a sheepish grin. "Sorry about the chair, friend. How many yen do I owe you? And how much is that in dollars?"

"No… No charge…" the man stammered, his face pale. "Th-Thank you."