Insert Witty Title Here

Husband to be, perhaps. They haven’t discussed that, and quite frankly, Laurent doesn’t want to be the first one to suggest anything of the sort. Damen, the sentimental fool that he is, will certainly bring it up sooner or later. Laurent had once told Damen his line would end with him, and he meant it. There is no one else he wishes to take as a lover, no woman he wishes to attempt to impregnate.

Wrinkling his nose at the thought, he halts his mind, thoughts getting away from him. He’s been trying to stop himself more lately, now that things are calm. There is no reason for Laurent to think of his next move at every turn. The storm has passed, and at the Summer Palace, Laurent felt the sun on his skin, kissing and burning the darkness out of him. Schemes and mind games filled with twists and back-stabbing knives no longer needed to be in the forefront of his mind.

Besides, there were far too many things to think about after they worked so hard to take back their respective thrones.

First, Damen needed healing, then, they began to put the new kyroi in place, and now… Laurent could feel the crown behind him, like a shadow encroaching on the bath of sunlight they slept in.

Laurent had Ascended. Last night with Damen by his side, the crown had been placed upon his brow. He couldn’t remember a time he had squeezed Damen’s hand so hard, his thick fingers feeling like small kindling he could snap in half.

Slowly turning his head, his eyes find the crown once more. It hasn’t moved, it sits upon the dresser, foreboding, waiting for Laurent to pick it up and place it upon his brow himself this time. Admittedly, he hasn’t touched it yet with his own fingers. During the Ascension, it was crowned on his head, and then upon returning to their private quarters, Damen had removed it, placing it down in front of the small mirror. It had been forgotten easily after that, Damen falling into Laurent so beautifully, as he always did. It was impossible to think of anything when Damen’s pupils were blown wide, staring at Laurent like he was a never-ending feast he could never get enough of. Laurent adored Damen’s gluttony.

With a soft sigh, Laurent pushes himself up, letting his legs dangle over the side of their bed. Damen doesn’t move, a rock surrounded by soft, cushy pillows and silk sheets. He’s a difficult man to stir, especially after a particularly long night of love making.

Standing, Laurent reaches down to pull a small chiton over his head. He never expected to get used to such revealing clothes, but he finds he likes the ease of it with Damen. Making his way over to the dresser, he pulls out the small bench and takes a seat. He pulls one bare leg up toward his chest, draping his arm over his knee. His fingers gently stroke over the marble surface, barely grazing the edge. He would need to reach forward just a bit to grab the crown. It’s odd, the way he feels like he shouldn’t.

The crown is his, in all senses of the word. He and Damen struggled through so much to achieve this. It was a birthright, Laurent the last living member of his family. This particular crown was designed for him, his brow. When it had been placed there, it was a perfect fit. Starburst designs decorated the front, and a blue jewel sits directly in the center. It’s golden, sparkling, and beautiful. It is for him, and yet…

For the first part of his life, Laurent never expected to wear a crown of such elegance. As a Prince, his was meant to be far less intricate, as to not upstage the King, his father, and then later, his brother. The moment they were killed, however, the crown was passed to him, something Laurent wasn’t ready for, he wasn’t certain he would ever be.

And yet, here it is, sitting before him, waiting to find its home atop his head. It was never meant to belong to him. It should’ve been Auguste’s burden to bear, and now the weight is his, and his alone.

No.

Flicking his blue gaze back toward the bed, he stares at Damen, still enjoying his beauty rest. Laurent is no longer alone. No one proved that to him better than Damen. They would bear the weights of their crowns together as they navigated their way through their new alliance, joining their countries as they had joined their hearts and bodies; their very souls merging.

Laurent sucks in a small breath and reaches forward, letting his foot drop to the ground. His palms are hot as he wraps them around the golden crown. Slowly, he picks it up, the gentle scrape of the metal against the surface makes his heart throb. It is heavier than he anticipates, but he lifts it high and slowly lowers it onto his brow, settling it against his blond hair.

Pulling his hands away, he stares at himself in the mirror. There are pieces of Auguste he has always seen in himself, but especially now as a grown adult, he can’t escape the ghost of his brother in his features on his face. Their slender cheekbones, their sky blue eyes, their masculine jawlines, the similarities are obvious now that Laurent is a man. As much as he spent his formative years planning for this moment, he feels entirely unprepared. Auguste had classes, training, educating, things Laurent had too, but far later. He only hopes he wears the crown as well as his brother would have.

His reflection makes him think he will, a small smile on his lips as he adjusts his spine to sit up straight. Auguste would be proud of how regal he was, but would probably tease him for it, too. His bookish little brother, now a man wearing the crown.

From here on out, Laurent would wear it with honor, with pride. He would stand with Damen, creating a new world together, one he is certain his brother would’ve been proud of.

“It suits you.”

Damen’s voice makes Laurent jump, turning around to face him. He folds his arms across his chest, immediately swallowing his surprise. “Look who finally decided to join the world of the living this morning,” Laurent says.

Laurent curls his fingers around the base of the crown and begins to lift it up until Damen says, “Oh, don’t take it off on my account.” He pushes himself up on one arm, silks draping over his body.

Laurent snorts, lowering the crown back down onto his brow. “Alright then.”

Damen takes a moment, drinking Laurent in with his eyes. He does this all the time, and if he thinks Laurent doesn’t notice, well, he’s more of a fool than Laurent initially thought. It’s amazing though, how Damen can look at him like he’s seeing him over and over for the very first time, like he’s never seen his eyes, his lips, his chest. He always looks so amazed as though Laurent has gifted him with something new every morning. Damen’s smile is crooked, lazily staring at Laurent sitting on the bench in front of him. He chuckles, finally moving forward on the bed while he stretches up. “I like to think of it as my crown, too. We worked so hard to procure it.”

“Oh?” Laurent asks, raising an eyebrow. “And what about your crown? Should I consider that one mine as well?”

“Of course,” Damen says, standing up, completely naked in front of Laurent. He’s not sure if he’ll ever grow used to how unbothered Damen is by nakedness, with himself, with Laurent. Laurent watches Damen saunter slowly over to the bench, his tired steps waking up as he approaches.

Thick fingers reach down, gently stroking over Laurent’s jaw. “I mean it,” Damen whispers, his voice still husky from sleep. “You look beautiful, my King.” Laurent can’t count how many times Damen has told him this fact, but it makes his heart tremble and his stomach drop every time.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Laurent breathes out finally, slowly rising to be closer to him. It’s a strange thing, knowing he needs Damen, knowing he wants nothing more than to be close to him. Before, it made anger churn in his stomach, and now, it flutters, tingling. Now, they’re the same.

Brother-killers. Lovers. Kings.

Selfishly, Laurent prefers when Damen initiates kisses, so he stands, waiting, chin tilted up toward the man he loves. Damen takes his time, as he always does, taking all of Laurent in, getting his silent permission as he cups his cheeks and slowly brings their lips together. It’s tender, gentle and loving, Damen surprising Laurent every time. He holds Laurent’s cheeks, thumbs brushing over his pale, smooth skin and Laurent tries not to melt against the hot, wet, familiar lips.

Damen opens his mouth and starts to take Laurent in, kissing him with desire as his mind and body wake up. “My King,” he breathes out slowly, his lips brushing against Laurent’s as he speaks the words.

“My King,” Laurent repeats the shared title, and he can’t help but smirk against Damen’s lips as an idea blossoms in his head. “Or should I say… Exalted,” he whispers, in Akielon, the language becoming less and less foreign on his tongue.

The breath that exits Damen’s lips is a hot shuddering one. It tickles Laurent’s lips and Damen’s hands immediately fall to Laurent’s waist, gripping him tightly. “Again,” he says.

Draping his arms over Damen’s shoulders, his hands play with the soft, brown curls that tickle the back of Damen’s neck. His blue eyes meet his lover’s browns. “Will you have your King, Exalted?” The sentence is a mix of Veretian and Akielon, the mingling of their languages only the beginning of their joining cultures.

“I love how you wear that crown,” Damen purrs in Akielon, pushing Laurent back against the dresser. His hips wiggle, feeling the heat building, a bead of sweat rolling down his lower back.

“I’m glad,” Laurent smirks, whispering as he pushes up to have their lips meet once more. Damen’s lips are such a familiar taste now, the hint of spice alway coating the tip of his tongue. It heats Laurent’s mouth, sends flames down his spine, like lightning shocking all of his limbs, making him tremble against Damen.

Damen’s hands grip his waist; he holds Laurent but doesn’t trap him. It’s disgusting how gentle this man is with him, like he’s fragile, ready to shatter at any moment. He only moves harder or faster when Laurent demands it of him, allowing Damen to push through comfort. He never thought he would be here, desiring someone, desperate to let someone inside and see through the barest parts of him. His soul and body are quickly stripped down, naked and on display for Damen and Damen alone.

Their tongues slide together, wet and sensual. It deepens then, as it always does, Damen diving into the corners of Laurent’s mouth. He explores like he’s never tasted Laurent before, as though everything is new and exciting. Damen drinks down the small moans and sighs that slip from Laurent’s mouth, his cock hardening with the thrill of taking his lover yet again. It is so easy to get Damen excited, Laurent has found an odd amount of pride in that fact.

Damen hoists him onto the dresser, thick hands pulling at Laurent’s thighs, fingers digging into his flesh as he drags him to the edge. Damen rests his head against Laurent’s shoulder, cock hard as he starts to roll his hips up. The head of his length buries under Laurent’s chiton, their cocks rubbing together.

Panting, Laurent cards his fingers through Damen’s dark hair. What a beautiful man Damen is, Laurent can’t remember the last time he saw someone so stunning. Before, it infuriated him that the man who took his brother’s life could be so handsome, so charming, so kind.

“I want you,” Damen says, like he’s confessing a secret to

By now they’ve shared each other’s bodies in a variety of ways, hard, desperate, needy, Laurent privy to so many flavors of Damen. His favorite is always slow and tender, loving; something Laurent never believed was possible when it came to sex.

After grabbing some oil off the dresser, Damen slips his hand down, tilting Laurent’s hips back enough for him to circle a finger around his hole. It slips in with ease now, Laurent used to the sensation. It’s warm and thick, but not as thick as when they’re fully connected. “You’re still stretched from last night,” Damen points out, his brown eyes glistening with need as he peers up at Laurent.

“Well,” Laurent breathes, “my ass was rarely without your cock last night.”

Damen smirks at that, like he’s proud of where he laid himself the night before. “Good,” he mutters, planting kisses on Laurent’s shoulder, two of his fingers pressing inside of him. “That’s where it belongs.”

Resisting the urge to laugh, Laurent jolts when Damen curls his fingers deep, brushing against Laurent’s most sensitive nerves. Damen slowly works him open, though he doesn’t really need to. His cock would fit. After a few hours of sleep, Laurent still feels open, ready to accept him. Perhaps his body is simply used to Damen, Laurent certainly wouldn’t mind that.

The fingers work him open slowly. Damen’s talented at this, getting Laurent to open up and be his true self around him. There’s something about Damen, like he’s constantly standing, arms wide, just waiting for Laurent to press against him. He falls for it every time. Infuriating before, but now…

There are so many things that are different now.

“Please,” Laurent whispers, no longer afraid to give in to the sensation, the needs and desires his body craves.

"Yes,” Damen replies softly, stroking his palms over Laurents legs to help him wrap around his waist. His palms spread over Laurent’s ass cheeks, pushing his back against the dresser and spreading him wide, thrusting inside. Damen shakes, and he starts to roll his hips slowly. It’s a deep fuck, Damen’s full length penetrating him completely, pushing everything inside of him all at once.

Laurent sighs, letting his head fall back, and he knows this is what sex should feel like. His mind is swimming, going white, and he loves not being able to think when Damen is inside of him like this. There are no thoughts, just his lover, and how good this feels. He’s forgotten about his crown; it sits, unmoving on his head, a background decoration, not important when Damen has consumed him.

He hooks his ankles together, bouncing slightly against Damen, moving with the slow roll of his hips. They grunt together, moaning, a hint of morning in their voices. Admittedly, they did this for a while last night, and their movements now are filled with their lack of sleep. Laurent wraps his arms around Damen’s neck and growls softly, leaning in to kiss him again.

Behind him, the dresser rattles with each thrust, barely moving. Laurent tilts his head, loving the tingling sensation of Damen’s lips against his neck. Those kisses are his favorite, the ones against the tender skin of his neck. They shoot right down to his stomach, fluttering in his belly like butterflies dancing through a spring breeze.

“Damen,” he moans, “Exalted.” Laurent likes using this title, feeling the shudder of Damen’s hips when his cock twitches inside of him.

“Laurent,” he breathes out, “you can’t just say that.”

“Oh?” he teases, rubbing his fingers over the vertebrae of Damen’s spine. “I suppose I’ll have to say it more.”

“Only if you want it to end.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Laurent pants.

Damen rolls his hips slowly, and Laurent hums, enjoying the way their bodies slot together, heated, yet sexy. Laurent always turned his nose up at the idea of romance, of having a sexual encounter like this. His experience had been little, minus the horrible things he witnessed as both a child and adult in the Vere court. They were rather open about their sexual endeavors putting on displays filled with false sounds and fake expressions, and while Laurent didn’t mind being open with Damen, he never saw the appeal before. Damen is different, Damen makes it real. The only person who deserves to have Laurent like this is Damen. No one else.

The thought alone makes him reach an edge. Damen thrusts deeply again, grunting when Laurent clenches around him. “I… Damen,” he moans deeply, kissing him as he spends himself, his body trembling through the release.

With a few heavier thrusts, and a bit more aggression, Damen is finishing too, lazily moving his hips even as his cock begins to soften. It’s possible he’ll get hard like this again, inside of Laurent. He wouldn’t mind, he could have Damen resting inside of him like this forever; it’s comfortable.

“I love you,” Damen whispers, pecking kisses against Laurent’s now drying lips.

The words aren’t the first time Damen has said such a thing, but it still makes Laurent’s heart skip a beat. He swallows, nodding, thinking about all the times he’s said those words. At one point, he’s certain he told his uncle that as a child. A farce. Even his parents, while they loved Laurent and his brother, it was different. Auguste had been the one Laurent had felt the most love from besides Damen. Auguste would’ve given him the world, and in that sense, Laurent knows Auguste would, ironically, approve of Damen.

“I love you, too,” Laurent whispers back, smiling at Damen. There’s no one else he will ever say that to.

“You know,” Damen mutters, pulling back to stare. “No one has come to get us, perhaps we could steal a few more minutes in bed.”

Laurent smiles. That sounds more than wonderful. Soon, someone will come to steal them away for the laundry list of tasks which need to be done, most of which will not be completed in one day. But for now, a bit longer alone with Damen sounds heavenly. “Perfect,” he says, hopping off the dresser, the crown slipping forward on his forehead. “Ah-” he gasps, and adjusts it, starting to take it off.

“Leave it,” Damen says, taking his hand as he starts to lead him back to the bed.

Okino does these things on purpose. Light touches, playful glances, the quirk of his lips in Hijiyama’s direction when he enters the room, like he’s beckoning him to come closer, to dig through Okino’s secrets.

It’s only been a few months since they awoke from the pods and yet, the memories stand strong in Hijiyama’s mind. The one he wants to be near, the one he can’t help himself around; It’s Okino, and he knows it will always be Okino.

“Are you planning on cutting it?” Okino asks, his light gray eyes peering at Hijiyama with such expectation, like he’s waiting for the exact response he wants. He reaches forward and gently rubs a piece of Hijiyama’s brown locks in between his lithe fingers.

Pulling in a long breath of air, Hijiyama clutches the hammer. “Dunno. Do you want me to cut it?” he asks, like he’s a sad puppy. Why Hijiyama always falls to the whims of Okino, he doesn’t know. Or perhaps it’s because he’s just a copy of the ‘other’ him, the one from 2188.

Hijiyama wrinkles his nose at the thought. Ultimately, he’s a different person. They’re all different, or so Okino often reassures. Jutting out his lower lip, he puffs out a large breath of air, letting his fringe flop against his forehead.

Next to him, Okino smirks. “You’re always so eager to please,” he chuckles. “I suppose that’s just your soldier mentality.”

Or maybe it’s just Okino. Hijiyama doesn't necessarily care about what everyone thinks, but rather, he cares about Okino. Despite everything he knows, there are still plenty of mysteries. Now that they’re navigating this new world together, there is so much Hijiyama feels he needs to ask, but doesn’t quite know where to begin.

“I was just curious what you thought,” Hijiyama grumbles, hammering another nail into the wood a bit too hard. The construction on their personal house has been slow. Well technically, it’s Okino’s personal house. Hijiyama promised to help him build his first, since he’s been looking for a more private place to continue his research on the virtual world and a way to populate this planet with more than just the fifteen of them.

Hijiyama knows it’s wishful thinking to even consider living with Okino at this point. In a way, he’s jealous of Yakushiji and Kurabe, or Miura and Natsuno, even Sekigahara and Fuyusaka! Actually, the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes most of them are starting to pair off.

“Yes but if I told you to cut it, I bet you would,” Okino smirks, interrupting Hijiyama’s train of thought as he leans in close.

“M-Maybe not!” Hijiyama stammers, indignantly. Reaching up to stroke a tuft of his hair, he twists his lips. “This length kinda grew on me.”

“Huh,” Okino replies, tapping at his chin. “Perhaps I’ll grow mine out, too.”

An image of Okino in the wig flashes into Hijiyama’s mind. It makes him blush, the thought of how cute he looks like that, long braids draping down his back.

“It’d look nice. Then you wouldn’t have to wear a wig,” Hijiyama says, shrugging as he adjusts how he’s sitting to move closer to the next piece of wood.

Okino’s lips twist into his signature smirk, and Hijiyama inwardly groans. He walked right into Okino’s trap.

“Oh yes, you would like that, wouldn’t you,” Okino pauses, “Takatoshi.” He whispers Hijiyama’s given name like he’s singing a new song, telling a secret the world has never heard. Okino lays a hand on Hijiyama’s bare forearm, his eyes lidded, the smirk still plastered on his face. Okino swipes his tongue across his lower lip, and Hijiyama’s heart skips a beat. He tried so hard not to stare at Okino’s lips, but they’re the softest pink, with the hint of a shimmer, and Hijiyama wants to know what he tastes like in this world.

Face red, Hijiyama is quick to wave his hands, slamming his eyes shut to break Okino’s spell. “T-That’s not what I meant at all!” he stammers.

“Sure, sure,” Okino sighs, leaning back on his palms. “Whatever you say,” he says, winking at him.

Hijiyama twists his lips. He doesn’t want whatever Okino doesn’t want. He would never force him to do something, nor does Hijiyama think that’s something he could do anyway. There’s no way Okino would be swayed by anyone’s opinion.

Wiggling his fingers against the grass, Okino continues, “I know that’s how you like me.”

“You’re wrong!” Hijiyama says, cutting him off quickly, slamming the hammer down against the dirt.

“Hm?” Okino blinks, tilting his head to the side. Hijiyama is known to have outbursts from time to time, but never are they aimed at Okino.

“That’s… not,” Hijiyama grumbles, clenching his fists. That’s not what he wants Okino to think. He doesn’t want him to be a certain way for Hijiyama to like him, and yet, how is he supposed to explain this? “What I mean is…” He trails off again, tapping his finger against his forehead, brow twitching in annoyance.

For once, Okino keeps his mouth shut, but Hijiyama feels the tension in the air, the anticipation as Okino calmly waits for Hijiyama to find his words. His silence is annoying, in its own way. Hijyama can tell he loves this; the embarrassment, the struggle, the way Hijiyama searches for the correct emotions like a fool.

Okino makes everything feel so jumbled inside, like left is right and down is up and Hijiyama has no clue where to aim his heart, his thoughts, his feelings.

“What I mean is…” he repeats slowly, “I just want you to be comfortable.” Pursing his lips together, Hijiyama sighs. “That’s… that’s the way I like you the most. When you’re comfortable. Wear whatever, be whoever, I just… it doesn’t change how I feel about you,” Hijiyama says, the words almost painful.

Turning his head up to the sky, Okino laughs, and it’s genuine. There’s no teasing behind it, it’s soft, but it vibrates in his chest, filled with color, echoing up to the blue sky. Rays of sunlight beam down on his pale cheeks. Everything about him, this place, this moment, it’s all so real. Hijiyama loves that. A breeze flows through Okino’s hair, fringe brushing across his pale forehead, and Hijiyama knows, deep down, more than anything, more than yakisoba pan, he loves him.

Hijiyama loves Okino.

“You’re always so honest, Takatoshi,” Okino chuckles. “Oddly considerate, too, for how brash you can be.”

“Well one of us has to tell the truth,” Hijiyama huffs, pausing briefly, “Tsukasa.” Okino’s given name is so lovely, it floats off Hijiyama's tongue so naturally; a gift he’s been so lucky to say.

Hijiyama is certain he sees Okino’s cheeks turn a slight shade of red, but it disappears quickly as he moves closer to Hijiyama. “I don’t think I’d grow my hair that much, just a bit longer than this,” he explains, bringing their conversation back to where it began.

2188 Okino flashes into Hijiyama’s mind; he remembers how he looked in all the logs of them together. Okino did look handsome like that, his hair slightly tousled, draping over the back of his thin neck. Hijiyama’s fingers twitch, imagining how soft it would feel, to run his fingers through the thin tendrils.

“That would look… really, really nice,” Hijiyama says slowly, the image almost too much for him to handle.

Okino smirks, leaning in closer. “Glad you think so. Are you imagining it?”

“Y-Yeah,” he swallows, his eyes flicking to Okino’s lips once more.

Okino inches closer and closer, his lips hovering over Hijiyama’s. “Tell me, Takatoshi, what you’re imagining,” he breathes, the hot air tickling Hijiyama’s lips.

Hijiyama swallows again, thicker this time. His saliva feels so heavy against his throat, like lead is rolling into his stomach. The throbbing of his heart in his ears makes it difficult to focus. Of course, he’s imagining Okino, everything about him. Hands touching his lithe body, lips kissing his skin, laying in bed with him, burying his nose in the crook of Okino’s neck.

“Just… touching your… hair, feeling how soft it is,” he says, finally. Lifting a hand to the back of Okino’s neck, he gently strokes at the edge of his silver hair.

“That’s… all?” Okino asks quietly, leaning into Hijiyama’s touch.

“No…” Hijiyama mutters, applying pressure to the back of Okino’s neck, pushing him closer. Okino complies without a complaint, moving in to press his lips against Hijiyama’s.

Okino lets out a soft chuckle against his lips, nibbling on Hijiyama’s lower. He kisses him softly, fingers brushing over Hijiyama’s cheek. It’s electric, Okino’s lips warm against his own. He could stay there forever, the pressure and the softness shooting right down Hijiyama’s spine. His stomach does a flip and a soft grunt vibrates against his throat when Okino’s teeth scrape against his lip. When Okino pulls away, he gently smacks his lips together. “I’ve been waiting for that.”

“T-Then why didn’t you do it sooner?!” Hijiyama exclaims, his chest rising and falling with his shallow breaths.

Sticking his tongue out, Okino shrugs. “I thought it would be an interesting experiment, to see how long it would take you.”

“Ugh,” Hijiyama groans. Typical Okino, always teasing, always playing. But hell if that kiss wasn’t good. He wants to do it again, and again. He wants to lay Okino down in the grass and-…

No. No, no. He needs to focus. There’s a task he should be focusing on, that they haven’t been for who knows how long. “Speaking of experiments, I need to hurry up and finish your house for your lab space,” he says, tragically returning to reality.

“Mm,” Okino nods. “Right. The faster you finish, the faster we can move in, just the two of us,” he says, winking once again.

Hijiyama’s heart flutters. “The… the two of us?”

Okino blinks, tilting his head. “What? Did you think I was going to live in this huge house alone? I designed it for both of us.”

“Y-You did?” Hijiyama says, glancing back at the blueprints Okino had drawn up on one of his programs. It did look oddly large for one person, an extra room, an extra study; why hadn’t he noticed before?

Ignoring Hijyama’s question, Okino sighs. “If you’re fast, you might get a special present.”

Hijyama can’t help but perk up, eyes widening. “Another kiss?” He loves the way Okino balks at that, like it wasn’t quite the request he was expecting.

“P-Perhaps,” he mutters, tapping at his chin. Hijiyama can tell he turns away to hide his blush. “I was thinking something more… tasty.”

No, it can’t be. Now Hijiyama knows Okino must love him, too. If he spent some of his precious research time on a simple recipe. “Y-You figured out how to make it?!” Hijiyama exclaims, jumping up, letting the hammer fall to the ground.

“If you’re really good, maybe you can have both.” Okino smiles, proud to once again be in control. Hijiyama would give it to all the time if it meant more kisses and yakisoba pan.

Maybe he is a bit like a puppy. Only when it comes to Okino, though.

Clearing his throat, he plops back on the ground, pulling the blueprints closer. “I better get to work, then.”

“Yes, I believe that would be smart,” Okino chuckles. He opens his mouth again, sucking in a quick gulp of air, but he exhales shortly after, the breath long and slow. Hijiyama knows, he knows neither of them are ready to say it, and it doesn’t need to happen now. It will, when both of them are ready.

With a smile, Hijiyama picks up the hammer. “Our house is gonna be the best damn one here, I promise, Tsukasa.”

Okino smiles, leaning in to bump his shoulder against Hijiyama’s. “I’m holding you to that, Takatoshi.”

He wants to, move forward, that is. Ultimately, isn't that all anyone wants? It's not easy, he's learned. It's hard when the thing he wants to move forward from eats away at his brain and takes up most of the space there. Not that he wants to forget about Exy. No, no. Kevin Day is Exy. He just wants to see Exy differently. He wants it to be the shining beacon of light he's always loved. He wants to forget the dark cloud the Ravens created by circling above it, engulfing the courts with their dark feathers.

It's a pressure he won't ever forget. He keeps it locked away in the back of his mind, taking up a small percentage. He doesn't want it to, but it sits there, a reminder of his past.

He's learning, taking small steps, which will eventually lead to large strides. Kevin's trying.

His teammates, he supposes, help. He doesn't know how to tell them that, but they do. He hopes they feel it in his tenacity on the Court. With every goal he scores, he hopes they realize he's doing it for them, just as much as he's doing it for himself. Every time he yells, every time his green eyes narrow and glare, scolding them to play better, be better, he hopes they realize he's saying it to himself, just as much as he's saying it to them.

Because really, he's the one who needs to be better.

When he first arrives at Palmetto, he hates everything about the Foxes, mostly because they don't make sense. They're casual. They laugh about things, they hang out. They do things together besides practice Exy or talk about Exy. They breathe air, they function without Exy clawing at their brains 24/7.

They're strange. (Kevin knows he's the strange one, but he tucks that away into a small corner of his brain too, burying it as deep as his mind will let him.)

At first, he wants them to leave him alone, but it becomes impossible. They're a part of Exy, which means they're a part of him. Kevin keeps trying to convince himself he's helping them all grow, especially when that dumb ass Josten shows up, but really they're the ones helping him.

It should be the other way around, and sometimes in his head it is. But no, one by one, the Foxes peel away the dark feathers covering the court.

Andrew is the first. He peels away layer after layer with his deals and anger. Kevin has met many angry people in his life, but none of them are quite like Andrew. They shouldn't get along. Andrew hates Exy, which really means he should hate Kevin, and yet, it works.

Even before Josten, Andrew would come with Kevin to his evening practices. Kevin picked up his stick, and Andrew picked up his, and would silently drive him down to the Court.

He always watched silently too, while Kevin practiced. Still, Kevin felt his presence without Andrew saying a word. His hazel eyes watch with an intensity Kevin knows derives from their pact, their bond. His gaze is as heavy as the pill bottles Kevin will later hold for him.

Back then, Kevin was convinced he could hear Andrew’s thoughts, and it made him slam the ball against the wall harder.

"I know I don't need to practice this much," he recalls saying, one evening on the drive back.

Andrew's golden eyes had flicked toward Kevin, a smile pulling across his drugged out lips. "Kevin, Kevin, Kevin, you're making a mistake in thinking I care what you do."

But he does care. Or he wouldn't drive him, or promise to keep him away from the Ravens. Even when Neil arrives and Andrew's focus immediately seems to shift, (he thinks Kevin doesn't notice, but oh, he notices) it doesn't change his unwavering loyalty.

More feathers peel back with Andrew's twin, Aaron, and his cousin Nicky. They're nothing like Kevin, and he knows neither of them will go on to be pros. That's something Kevin struggled to wrap his mind around at first. Not all of the Foxes want to be professional players, in fact, most of them view it as a fun sport, an extracurricular to do while attending college.

It's a bit insulting and Kevin should hate them.

He doesn't.

"Well, well, well if it isn't the Kevin Day," Nicky snorts, shoving his hand into the bag of chips.

Kevin wrinkles his nose. He doesn't know how his roommate can eat that stuff. It makes their dorm smell like salt and grease. It's unpleasant.

"Don't stroke his ego. It's big enough as it is." Aaron, Andrew's twin, doesn't take his eyes off of the screen in front of him. He's pressing so hard on the buttons of his controller, Kevin can hear the clicking noise from across the room.

He opens his mouth to retort, but Nicky cuts him off.

"Oh! Kevin, guess what, guess what!" Nicky cheers, jumping up from his bean bag chair.

Kevin isn't sure he wants to know, but he sighs, humoring the guy. "What?"

"I found a video game that even you would be willing to play," Nicky smirks and holds up the box, handing it to Kevin.

"Exy... 2000?"

"Yeah!" Nicky smiles, his grin pulling from ear to ear. "You can pick all your favorite pro-players and make a team. It's basically an Exy Simulator-"

Kevin's green eyes sparkle. "Let's play it."

He loses against Aaron the first go around. Which is, honestly, infuriating. He clutches the controller, tempted to slam it against the ground, but Nicky peels it from his hand. Mostly to save himself from having to buy a new one.

They take turns playing, and though it takes Kevin a while to get the hang of virtual Exy (which is obviously not as important as actual Exy), he visibly jiggles his knee while he waits for his turn to come around again. It's like watching other people play Exy. It's fun, it's a learning experience, but ultimately, Kevin wants to be in on the action.

"Hah!" Nicky cheers, thrusting the controller up into the air. "I beat the Kevin Day at Exy!"

"Virtual Exy," Kevin growls, snapping his head toward Nicky.

"Still a form of Exy," Aaron states flatly.

"I would hardly call this legitimate," Kevin grumbles.

"Don't be a sore loser," Nicky teases.

Later, Kevin practices for their inevitable rematch. He can't remember ever touching a video game before this.

It's easy to fall into Nicky's traps, the way he cheerily convinces everyone to be friends with him is oddly... inspiring. Kevin has the ability to put on a smile for an interview, but when it comes to interacting with people on a real level, he struggles. Still, he feels at ease playing the game with Nicky and Aaron, like for once, he's allowed to have fun.

He knows he's tense, and he knows the others see it.

"Are you okay, Kevin?" Renee usually asks him this once a day. It's funny how gentle she is about it. She never touches him, but she stands close enough that the conversation is private. Her words are soft, and she says them with a smile on her face. It's a telling one, like she knows he won't say a word to her.

"I'm fine," he says.

They both know it's not true.

He knows Renee's smile isn't one that always reaches her eyes. He knows Renee isn't always 'fine', though she forces herself to be. It’s how she moves forward, Kevin's trying that method too.

"I just want you to know that if you ever need to talk, I'm always happy to listen," she says. "And... I really think you bring a lot to this team."

"I bring everything to this team," he snaps back. He doesn't mean to, biting words just come out of his mouth before he can stop them.

She nods slowly. "That is true." A small giggle slips from her lips. "Thanks to you, we're no longer a laughing stock."

"That is true..." he says, repeating her own words.

"No one likes getting laughed at," she says. "I feel a lot better, knowing you're playing on our side."

His cheeks feel hot; people compliment his playing style all the time, but Renee speaks so genuinely, it's almost jarring.

Tentatively, she rests her hand on his arm. "I just want you to know that... we're on your side, as much as you are on ours."

Pressing his teeth into his lips, he appreciates her words more than he can say.

Feathers peel back daily. The softness of Renee's voice make a few fly away. They even disappear during awkward interactions Kevin doesn't quite know how to handle.

"Hey Day," Allison says, sitting on the edge of the couch in the common room. She's painting her nails, her leg curled up against her chest. She's peering over her knee, waggling her toes as she tilts her head, examining the color.

He prays she doesn't ask him if it looks good.

"Yes?" He asks, tapping his foot as if he's in a rush to get somewhere. Of course, he'd like to get to the Court, but, he doesn't have to.

"Has anyone ever told you you're pretty hot?"

It takes all of him not to fall backward onto the floor right there. He blinks, the world feeling like it's spinning. He hasn't thought about anyone's level of attractiveness in years, let alone his own. "Uh... I-I..."

He scrambles to say something, but he just stares, mouth gaping at her. Allison Reynolds isn't an unattractive woman, but her taste in men isn't great. Kevin isn't sure whether to take this as a compliment.

He isn't sure what to say at all. "..." He blinks, glancing away from her, wishing his cheeks didn't feel hot.

Allison bites down on her lip, suddenly erupting with laughter. She leans back on the couch, her blonde hair swinging over the back. "Oh my GOD! I really just wanted to see your reaction and it was... surprisingly cute?! I figured you were going to yell at me or something." She laughs some more. "I really should've filmed you so I could prove to the others how awkward you are about this!" She sighs, wiping her eyes. "Though I guess I'll spare you that embarrassment."

"..." Kevin stares, still trying to register what she means. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome," she says, and gives him a wink. "Who knows," she shrugs. "Maybe a part of me was serious!"

Kevin supposes he should be flattered.

As much as he struggles to understand Allison and Renee, Dan and her boyfriend Matt are at least comprehensible. They're hard workers, talented players and unlike the rest of this ragtag bunch, he can tell they care about the game.

He sees it in the way they both sweat on the Court. Dan pushes herself as far as she can go, and Matt follows her. They aren't on the same level as Andrew and Neil, but they're getting there. Kevin can tell they're aiming for higher than many of the others.

"Great job, Kevin," Dan smiles, gently patting his shoulder as they run off the Court. "You always take practice to another level."

"I have to," he states. It's just a fact.

"You don't," Dan chuckles, shaking her head.

"But you do. It's obnoxious," Matt snorts.

Kevin glares toward him, but Dan holds up a hand. "You and Neil both, you challenge all of us. I'm grateful."

"Yeah," Matt nods, nudging his shoulder as they walk by.

"Get some rest, okay? Don't be practicing too late with Neil and Andrew!" She calls out over her shoulder.

Oh Neil.

Just as Kevin challenges Dan and Matt, Neil challenges Kevin.

Neil Josten gives Kevin his game, but he also gives Kevin so much more. He's both terrified of Neil being around and more grateful than words can ever describe. Neil is just as broken as Kevin is, though they show it in different ways.

Neil is a bit dumber, so he probably doesn't notice every time he does something and the whole team laughs and follows him.

Kevin doesn't want to follow him. No, he wants to chase him. Neil is fast, Kevin wants to be faster, or maybe he is faster. It's hard to tell these days. Kevin can't have Neil being a better player than him. He won't let that happen.

It's not like before though, not when he was dressed in black and chained down by hierarchies and rules.

This rivalry is playful. They run side by side, and Kevin doesn't fear his other hand being broken.

"You're not focused!" Kevin yells at Neil during their nightly practices.

Neil pants, looking like he's about to collapse. "Oh shut up! I know you were distracted the other day playing Exy 2000!"

Kevin balks. "I-I wasn't! Nicky was!"

"And who was Nicky playing against?" Neil grins.

"I don't know, probably Aaron." Kevin shakes his head. "Are you going to continue with the drills, or are you going to keep talking?"

"I think you're trying to avoid the subject," Neil snorts, tossing the ball at the wall. He catches it with his stick and turns to smirk at Kevin. "Next time, play me, so I can kick your ass."

Gripping his stick, Kevin's knuckles turn white. "Fine. You're on, Josten."

He supposes virtual Exy can be a part of their friendly competition.

It's strange how easily feathers seem to lift off the Court nowadays. The darkness in his mind sometimes threatens to creep up on him, but it's not as foggy, not so... heavy.

Admittedly, none of the Foxes make sense and yet... Kevin loves them. He needs them. There's a percentage of his brain that's dedicated to his teammates and his emotions.

As the days go on, he sees them clearer and clearer, the black Raven feathers clearing away.

He has a little more space for these people he's come to care about.

The Foxes stand on the cleared Court, the feathers blowing away in the breeze, the sun's rays glistening. Even if they don't go on to be pros, they will forever be Foxes, an unbreakable bond they'll all always share. Kevin wants to carry his history with pride. It's his past.

It's how he learned to look to the future.

Kevin stares at the eight of them, standing in the middle of the Court. They're his family, they're waiting for him to come home.

He taps his screen, accepting the order, and sighs.

Postmates sucks. Not as bad as Uber, cause there is far less human interaction with Postmates, but people can be so damn finicky about their food.

He pulls up the order on his phone screen. Fox Bakery, three miles from where he is now. Not bad, though he's never heard of this place. The person wants some cookies and a bagel. Interesting combination, but not the weirdest order he's ever gotten.

Putting the car in drive, he follows the map on his phone, annoyed he even has to do this. Postmates isn't a difficult job, but it's not ideal. It's tedious, it wears down Aaron's car, people are rude, and the list of awful shit goes on and on, but it pays the damn bills well enough.

Living with his brother and his cousin in their tiny apartment also isn't ideal, but he tries not to complain about that either. At least, not out loud. It's a place to live, a means to an end. Eventually, he'll be done with medical school and he'll be making so much money he'll be able to buy multiple houses. Houses he won't have to share with Andrew and Nicky.

It takes him a minute to find the damn bakery. It's actually not on the road it says it's on. It's down a side alleyway, sort of around the back of the street. Without the stupid little Postmates app, Aaron would definitely have gotten lost.

The front entrance has a few paw prints on it, and the logo is orange: Fox Bakery. A fox sits behind the text, it's tail making the curve of the 'y'. Aaron's just happy he found the damn place.

He pulls the door open, a small bell jingling at the top. The place smells heavenly, Aaron can't deny that. He doesn't have his brother's sweet tooth, but stepping in here, he can see the appeal. It smells like freshly baked cake and sugar. The smell wraps itself around his body and Aaron could take a nap right there on the floor, letting the comfort take over.

"Welcome!" A chipper voice calls out, and a girl pops up from behind one of the counters. Her long brown hair is tied up into a ponytail, a bow wrapped around it. The ribbons almost look like little fox ears. Lame. Her smile is wide, her dark eyes glistening with excitement.

Honestly, no one should be this excited working in the customer service industry, but she's certainly owning it, and Aaron can't fault her.

"Can I help you? We just took some cakes out of the oven if you're looking for something fresh!" Her voice takes on a bit of a sing-song, the lilting tone soft, yet tempting. Aaron's mouth goes dry.

For a second he forgets why he's there. Between her beautiful face, and the delicious smell, he tries to focus, but he just keeps staring.

"Uh," he says finally. Real smooth. He needs to get out of here. "I'm picking up for... Jeremy? Postmates," he says, holding up his phone.

"Oh! Great! Of course!" The girl beams at him and makes her way to a small shelf near the back. There are a few bags there, probably waiting to be picked up. "Here you go! Three cookies and an everything bagel," she says. "Do you know if they want cream cheese?"

"Just... throw some in there," he says, waving his hand to the side. He doesn't really care either way, but getting to stay here for a couple additional seconds isn't all that bad.

"Sounds great!" She tosses a few tiny cups of cream cheese into the bag and wraps it up, putting a cute fox sticker on the edge of the bag to keep it shut. Reaching over the counter, she hands it to him.

"Thanks," he mutters, taking it from her. Orange looks horrible on everyone, but somehow she makes it work. His eyes fall on the name tag on her sweater: Katelyn. Cute.

"Katelyn," he says, not realizing he said anything out loud.

"Yes? Oh! Yes! That's my name," she giggles. "Do you want to try something? I mean, since you came all the way here."

Aaron glances around the case. He really doesn't have much of a sweet tooth... "Uh, no thanks."

"Oh." Her face falls and she presses her teeth into her lower lip before smiling again. "No worries! Happy delivery!"

Fuck, he's dumb. He mentally kicks himself for saying anything. How is it he loses his mind so quickly over one pretty girl? He's not normally this awkward. Actually, that's debatable, but whatever. "Thanks," he mutters again, and rushes out of the store.

At least the bakery is out of the way, so not many people order from there. Maybe he'll never go back.

~~

The problem is, Aaron wants to go back. He can't stop thinking about stupid Katelyn and how cute she is and the soft orange ribbon in her dark brown hair. She's stunning. Absolutely stunning, and as much as he hates his damn job, he's secretly waiting to get pinged for Fox Bakery.

But it never comes.

He supposes he could go there himself, and actually order something, but Aaron tries not to go to restaurants in his free time. He saves money by cooking at home, and why would he want to go places he always has to go for work? Still, he's actually tempted to go back and buy something just to see her one more time.

Creepy.

No, he's not a creep, and he won't go back for no reason.

But he will go back if he gets another order from there. Which, thankfully, a week and a half later he does. It's probably the fastest he's ever accepted an order.

The little bell jingles when he enters the place, and a short guy stands by the register. He's got bright blue eyes and messy brown hair and he looks entirely uninterested in being there. Disappointment washes over Aaron. Of course Katelyn doesn't work there everyday and he shouldn't expect her to always be there.

Sighing, he makes his way to the counter, taking the loss. "Hey, I'm picking up a delivery for Postmates."

The guy looks up, face unchanging. "Yeah, okay. Name?"

"Uh, Laila," he says, glancing down at his phone.

"'Kay." The guy walks over to the shelf right as Katelyn opens the door from the back, stepping behind the counter.

"Oh! Hey! It's the Postmates guy!" She laughs, and gestures to him.

"You know him?" The other worker asks, pulling the bag from the shelf.

She turns to look at him, her dark eyes full of excitement yet again. How someone can be so happy working in a bakery is beyond Aaron. "Well, sort of! He's come in before." She looks down, her cheeks flushing. "Sorry, I actually never got your name."

"Aaron," he says, reaching over the counter.

"Katelyn!" She smiles, waving at him. Though she quickly straightens up and gasps. "I-I mean I guess you already knew that from my name tag!" She gestures to the small badge on her shirt.

"Yeah," Aaron says.

The guy next to them scoffs, and clicks his tongue. "Shouldn't you deliver your order?" he asks.

Immediately, Aaron frowns. Who the hell is this guy? Maybe he's Katelyn's boyfriend and he wants Aaron to leave cause his girlfriend is obviously one of those people who is nice to everyone. Or maybe he has a crush on Katelyn and is jealous her attention is elsewhere.

"Oh! Neil's right!" she says. "Sorry for keeping you."

He wants to urge her that it's not a big deal. Worse case, he just gets less of a tip, which honestly, he wouldn't mind if it was because he stood here talking to her.

"Do you want a small sample to go?" She asks, and Aaron glances around the store. He should probably take something. It would be the polite thing to do, but Aaron really doesn't know what to take.

"I should... probably get going," he says, gesturing to the door. So much for staying and talking to her.

"Right! Of course! Good luck, Aaron!" She bows her head toward him and he stands, watching her. He waves, after what seems like both an eternity and not long enough, and heads back out the door. He wishes things had lasted longer than that.

~~

He notices the bakery popping up more and more on his Postmates app. It's like everyone suddenly realized what a hidden gem this is. For once, Aaron doesn't care. He doesn't even care that he has to park on a side street and walk all the way around through the alley just to get to the damn place.

It's worth it when Katelyn is there.

He's been lucky. The majority of the time he goes, Katelyn is there. She always greets him, popping up from behind the counter with a cheery: "Hello Aaron!" A few times he's even smiled at her.

Every time he leaves, she asks if he wants to try something, and he always says no. Each time, he starts to regret it more and more. He just... panics when she asks, never sure what to pick.

A few times he goes, and Neil is there working by himself, and Aaron hates those times. Neil is nothing like Katelyn. The guy is completely uninterested in everything, and even though they both know each other's name, the conversation is always as short as it can possibly be. Aaron grabs his order and practically dashes out the door.

He wonders if Neil notices the difference between when Katelyn is there or not there. Aaron spends a grand total of 10 seconds in the store when it's just Neil but with Katelyn he always lingers for at least a minute. Or two.

It's stupid because he never actually talks about anything with her. Usually she talks about the specials or asks how Aaron's deliveries have been. One time, she talked about a rude customer who had come in just moments before. Aaron's honestly thankful he hadn't been there, because he probably would've punched the guy’s face in if he saw someone being rude to her.

One day, he gets a particularly large order: a dozen donuts, some cupcakes, and a half dozen cookies. He's hoping he gets there early, before the order is ready. Hopefully Katelyn will be there too.

Aaron doesn't really understand what it is about the girl that interests him so much. Honestly, he should despise someone as peppy as her. Yet, he can't help but find her endearing. He loves the way she giggles, and how her hair is always pulled back into a signature ponytail. He adores the way she says his name. Somehow, she always manages to punctuate the 'A's like they're really important.

Making his way down the side alley, he pops into the store, the tiny bell jingling. "Hi Aaron!" He hears her voice immediately, the high pitched tone cutting through the small room.

"Hey Katelyn."

"You know," she says, leaning against the countertop. "I was hoping this big order would be you. We're just waiting on the cupcakes!"

"No problem," he says, and for once he actually means it. Waiting for this order will be anything but torture.

"I can go check on them if you'd like! I know people can be mean when their food isn't on time," Katelyn says, a gentle sigh slipping from her lips.

"More bad customers today?" Aaron asks, looking around the empty bakery. He's glad when he's in here alone, it means he has the chance to try and talk to her, even if he often sucks at it.

Katelyn shakes her head. "No... the other day, my roommate gave our Postmate a horrible tip because he couldn't find our apartment. I felt so bad, I couldn't stop thinking about you and how hard you work. Even if a Postmate is slow, I try not to tip them too badly."

Aaron's cheeks light up. He's not even that good at his job. He doesn't even like working for Postmates. "Oh, uh, well, you know, not everyone is a good Postmate."

"I know, but who knows, maybe they legitimately got lost! Our complex is a little confusing," she explains.

Aaron is about to say he understands because he's gotten lost before but he gets cut off when a woman with long dark braids steps out from the backroom, carrying a hot tray of cupcakes. The smell is overwhelming, and it actually makes his stomach gurgle.

"Hello!" The woman says, placing the tray down. "Is this a regular?"

"Sort of!" Katelyn laughs. "This is Aaron, he's a Postmates driver."

"Oh! Hello!" The woman smiles. "I'm Dan. My husband Matt and I own this place. Thank you for coming by."

"Oh, cool," Aaron says, mostly because he has no idea what else to say.

"I'll get these bagged up for you," Katelyn says, and carries the tray over, wrapping up the cupcakes. "Are you sure I can't interest you in one? You've been in here so many times and never tried anything."

Aaron purses his lips. He always feels guilty saying no, and especially now, in front of the owner. This probably isn't the time to refuse. Swallowing, he nods his head. "Yeah, I'll uh, I'll take a cupcake." He supposes he can give it to Andrew.

Katelyn's face lights up, her eyes shimmer. She claps her hands together. "Of course! It'll be my treat! I promise you'll love it. I think cupcakes are our specialty... though, I do like the chocolate chip cookies too. A classic, you know?" She wraps up the treat and puts it in a separate bag, holding both out to him.

Nodding, Aaron takes the bags from her, separating the two. "Thanks."

"See you soon!" she says, waving, her beautiful smile lighting up her face. Holy heck she's so cute, Aaron wants to bury his head and never look at anything else again.

"Yeah," he nods, trying to stay cool. "See ya'."

He really does hope he'll see her again soon.

~~

"What the hell is this?" Andrew asks, holding the cupcake in his hand. He twists it around and gives it a glare. "You poison this?"

Aaron rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue. "Yes. When you eat it, you'll finally die."

His cousin pouts, looking at the sweet treat in Andrew's hand. "You didn't get me one?"

"Nope. She only gave me one freebie. I wasn't gonna buy more," Aaron shrugs, hopping over the couch to take a seat.

"Dammit, Aaron! You should've handed it to me, at least I would've shared with Andrew-wait," Nicky says, stopping in the middle of his thought. "She?!" He gasps loudly, and makes his way around the couch, cupcake completely forgotten. "Aaron, do you have a girlfriend?!"

"Gross," Andrew scoffs, unwrapping the cupcake on the couch.

"...I don't... have a girlfriend..."

"He hesitated!" Nicky screams, bouncing up and down on the squeaky cushion. "Who is she, and why is she giving you free cupcakes?!"

"I dunno, she's just a girl at this bakery," Aaron says, shrugging. He sinks back into the couch. The last thing he wants to do is tell them about Katelyn. He'll never hear the end of it, and Andrew might hunt her down and murder her. So, better to keep his mouth shut.

Next to him, the wrapper crinkles, and Andrew tosses the trash on the table in front of them, ready to dive into the treat.

Nicky scoffs loudly. "Aaron, your cheeks are red. You're lying!" He hums loudly, bouncing up and down once again.

"I'm not lying!"

"You are!"

"Fuck," Andrew curses next to them and both Aaron and Nicky turn to look at the unruly blond. "Where the fuck did you get this?"

"Uh... why?" Aaron asks, immediately skeptical. The last thing he needs is his brother snooping around in his business. He likes Katelyn. As much as he hates to admit it, he likes her. He likes her smile, her hair, how she probably smells like freshly baked treats all the time. He likes going into the bakery; he doesn't want his brother and his cousin to ruin this for him.

"Aaron. I asked you where the fuck you got this," Andrew repeats. He's holding the cupcake in his hand, bouncing it up and down, a large bite missing from it. He's got a bit of frosting on his nose, but Aaron isn't about to point that out.

"Just a small bakery in town."

"We're going," Andrew says, shoving the rest of it into his mouth.

"What?"

"Tomorrow," he says, after swallowing. "We're going to this bakery."

Needless to say, Aaron knows he doesn't have much of a choice.

~~

Katelyn blinks when Aaron steps into Fox Bakery with his twin. He supposes it's pretty jarring, seeing two people who look exactly the same when you don't expect it. "Hi Aaron! You didn't tell me you had a twin." Katelyn smiles her glowing smile.

"Yeah, this is Andrew," he says, gesturing to his brother who is eyeing all of the sweets behind the glass counters.

"Can I help you?" Neil asks, looking down at the blond. Andrew tilts his head up, stares at Neil and scoffs, like he's seen the most disgusting thing in the world. Only, Aaron knows his brother well enough to know that disgust means Andrew is interested. Of course his brother would be interested in Neil. The two of them can be uninterested assholes together. It's oddly perfect.

"No," Andrew clicks his tongue and Katelyn immediately looks distressed.

"Is he okay?" She whispers the question, leaning over the countertop.

Aaron rolls his eyes, looking at the way his brother continues to scan the treats, his eyes constantly flicking back toward Neil. "Yeah," he says. "He's just like that. It's fine."

"Oh," Katelyn says, narrowing her eyes at the two boys. "Well then, are you here to pick up an order?"

"Nah, my brother..." He pauses, realizing he doesn't want to tell her that he didn't eat the cupcake she gave. For some reason, he thinks it might hurt her feelings. "I gave him some of the cupcake and he really liked it. He's got more of a sweet tooth than I do."

"I see!" she says, smiling. "I can give him suggestions-"

"No, just... let him do his thing," he says, but then quickly turns back to her. "You can suggest stuff to me, though." Even if he ends up giving it to Nicky this time, at least he can get her talking.

"Oh! Okay, well, I'm gonna force you to pick a chocolate chip cookie. Like I said, classic," she giggles, pulling one off of the shelf. "I'm also a fan of the fudge, but if you don't like sweets I think that might be too sweet!"

Aaron honestly stops listening to the specifics of what she's saying and just watches her talk. He's ignoring everything else. He doesn't even notice the stare down Andrew and Neil seem to be having. He watches as Katelyn gestures to various treats, her eyes lighting up as she talks about each one. She's really passionate about working at this bakery, unexpected, since Aaron can't imagine working around people and food in a serious way. But Katelyn seems to know everything about what they have in the bakery.

She's put together a variety of treats for him to try and he doesn't even know what half of them are, but she's so excited about it he doesn't wanna disappoint her.

Neil slides a tray of more sweets down to the register. "These are for him," he says, gesturing to Andrew. His twin looks vaguely amused, and pleased with his selection.

"I'll ring you guys up," Katelyn nods. "You'll have to let me know what you think the next time you come in."

"Yeah," he says. "I'll let you know." He wishes he could share the treats with her, but that would require him to ask her to spend time with him outside of their little encounters and, well, he's just not ready to do that.

~~

Later, he actually tries some of the treats Katelyn gave him before Nicky steals the rest. She was right, the chocolate chip cookie was the best, by far. It's so good, in fact, he wouldn't mind having another one. Some of the cakes are a bit too sweet, but he tried.

Andrew is absolutely addicted to the Fox Bakery. He goes all the time now, usually without Aaron, and he buys shit for himself. Aaron can't complain, but he does get a little jealous of the fact that Andrew is always going there. A couple of times he thought to go with his brother, but he doesn't want his brother to see him around Katelyn. Nicky and Andrew have already teased him enough for it.

There's a part of him that wants to ask Katelyn out, but he has no idea if she's interested. Hell, she might have a boyfriend! Maybe it's Neil? Either way, Aaron isn't ready to just jump into asking Katelyn out. Besides, why would she be interested in someone who barely talks to her, despite how nice she's been to him?

Aaron likes to think he can keep his mind off her, but what really does him in is seeing Neil at their apartment a few weeks later. He's stopped into the bakery a few times to make a few deliveries, and Neil never once said anything to him. Yet here he sits, on their couch, leaning against Andrew.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Aaron yells.

"Uh, I'm hanging out with your brother, my boyfriend," Neil says, shrugging as if he's so confused why Aaron is so mad.

"Your what?!

"Unlike some people, I take what I want," Andrew says, popping a mini cupcake into his mouth. Aaron hopes the idiot gets fat from all the sweets he keeps eating just to, apparently, go and hit on Neil.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Aaron growls, folding his arms over his chest.

Nicky pokes his head out of the kitchen, carrying a large bowl of popcorn. "It means that you've been pining over Katelyn for months now and have done nothing about it."

"W-What?!" Aaron scoffs, taken aback. "You've never even been to the bakery!" He yells, trying to shift the focus to Nicky.

"No, but Neil and Andrew told me all about it," Nicky shrugs. "Plus, I know you! You probably just stand there, all quiet like an idiot, barely talking to her!"

"I talk to her!"

"Barely," Neil scoffs, reaching forward into the bucket to grab popcorn. "Not like she's any better. She's always talking about you, hoping every time we get a Postmates order that you'll be picking it up."

Aaron's heart skips a beat. Katelyn talks about him? It's not just him who is constantly thinking about her, hoping an order for Fox Bakery will pop up. She wants to see him? She wants him to come in? "S-She is?" He asks the question before he can stop himself.

"Yup," Neil shrugs.

"Oh man, so you're both pining fools! It's perfect!" Nicky yells, laughing as he leans back against the couch.

"Shut up!" Aaron yells, glaring at his cousin."You know what? I'll go right now!" He stomps toward the door and grabs his jacket.

"It's closed," Neil calls out.

Huffing, Aaron slams his jacket back onto the hook and storms into his room. "Fine, I'll go tomorrow!" He slams the door shut behind him. Stupid Andrew, asking out stupid Neil. How the hell did his brother just swoop in and get this guy? At the very least, Neil is just an asshole, and not interested in Katelyn.

Still, Aaron has no idea how he plans to ask her out, but he knows if he doesn't he'll never hear the end of it from the rest of them.

~~

Aaron tries not to think about how weird it is that he's going to the bakery alone for no reason than to ask Katelyn on a date.

A date.

He swallows, the word circling around in his head like a scary demon he has no idea how to face. It's not like he's never asked girls out before, but the thing is, he's never asked Katelyn out before. Katelyn, with her perfect smile, her passion for bakery treats and her signature ponytail that bounces against her neck every time she walks around.

Swallowing, he yanks the door open. He can do this. He's been walking into this bakery for months now. She knows him, he knows her, it'll be easy and not creepy at all.

He smooths out his jacket and steps inside, the small bell jingling as he does. Aaron sees Katelyn right away, bent over, slowly sliding pink and yellow cupcakes into place. She's humming softly, singing along with whatever basic pop song is playing on the radio.

When the bell jingles, she looks up and immediately stands, her ponytail bouncing with her body. "Aaron! Hi! Good to see you! I feel like it's been a few days. Though, your brother came in to see Neil. Are they dating? Neil won't tell me," she pouts.

Her words fire at him quickly and Aaron blinks, staring at her curious eyes. "Uh, I think so," he mutters, rubbing his forehead. "About that-"

"Oh, I know Neil seems a little blunt, but he's a really good guy. Pretty funny actually! So, don't worry about your brother," Katelyn giggles, reassuring him. She waves her hand up and down gently.

"I don’t. I mean that's good," he says.

"Mhm!" She nods, and heads over to the shelf where the delivery orders are. "Picking up?"

"Actually, uhm, no," Aaron says, swallowing.

"Oh! Did you come for your brother? Or... did I sway you with the treats I picked out?"

"The chocolate chip cookie was really amazing," he says. "You did sway me there." He rubs his hands together, leaning against the counter. How is he supposed to just ask her out? Will she think he's only doing it because of Neil and Andrew? Stupid Andrew, jumping into this random relationship with Neil.

"Great! I can give you more, or other things to try, if you want!" She offers it so genuinely, saying it with such a huge smile on her face. It makes his heart flutter, his cheeks growing far too red for his own good. He has to ask, he can't keep standing here staring at her like a total idiot!

"What if... we tried them together?" he asks, the question so quiet.

"Together?" She tilts her head. "Well, I've already tried pretty much everything in the store."

Shit, of course she has! What a stupid way to ask her to spend time together! He mentally slaps himself and exhales. He can do this, he can explain.

"No, uh, okay. Maybe we could get sweets somewhere else then?"

"Oh, but I mean, I'll still show you what's best here," she says, waving her hands back and forth quickly. "I don't want to be biased, but I think we're the best bakery in town."

Dammit.

Shaking his head, he slams his hands down on the glass. "No! Katelyn, I'm asking if you want to go somewhere with me! We can go, you know, on a date!"

She freezes, blinking once and then again, staring at him while his cheeks grow redder and redder. "Oh..." she whispers. "O-Oh!"

He's a fool. An utter and total fool. Neil probably just told him Katelyn was interested to trick him into looking like a total idiot when his brother had done everything right and perfect or whatever.

"Look, you don't have to it was a stupid-"

"What? Aaron! Of course I would want to... go on a date! I-I just was so surprised you asked, I thought you never would," she yells, her words slurring together as she rushes them out.

Huh? What? She really... had been waiting for him to ask!?

"To be honest, I was getting really close to just asking you myself, but there was a small part of me that was hoping you would and... yes! I would love to go out!"

Aaron tries not to look like more of an idiot by doing a stupid dance or something, so instead, he smiles, unable to stop himself. He pulls out his phone and pushes it across the counter. "Put your number in, I'll uh, I'll call you and we can compare schedules?"

"Sure!" she says, picking up his phone while she hands hers to him. "You do the same."

"Great," he mutters, the two trading back their phones.

"I'm... really excited!" She laughs, the sound echoing in the small bakery.

He has no idea what they're going to end up doing, but he has a feeling he's going to love it no matter what. He honestly doesn't care what they do, as long as he gets to learn more about her, and listen to her laugh and talk. Maybe even kiss...

He doesn't want to get too ahead of himself.

"Yeah, I'm really excited too," he says, a smile stuck to his face while he stares at her excited dark eyes.

She swallowed and checked her phone, her thumb swiping over the black screen. Her friends had all assured her this was a good idea, and she wanted to believe it was too, but the fear of the unknown always made her a little uneasy. Melissa loved experimenting, hypothesizing outcomes, creating new inventions, and yet, this was a whole different kind of experiment.

She tapped on the message app, pulling up her group chat with Ochako and Tenya. The previous messages expressed excitement for her trip.

[Text: Surprise Trip]: Hello you two! I'm about to board the plane.

[Text from: Surprise Trip Ochako]: Yay! Can't wait to see you again! Deku-kun is going to be so surprised!

[Text from: Surprise Trip Tenya]: Please stay safe. We will be sure to pick you up when you land. We are tracking your flight.

She giggled, quietly amused by the two of them. She was happy the two of them cared about Izuku just as much as she did.

Pursing her lips, Melissa let out a sigh. She rolled her previous thought around in her head. Of course she cared about Izuku. He was someone who had become so important to her ever since their time together on I-Island.

This trip was going to be her chance to finally talk to Izuku about how she felt, and she prayed it wasn't a bad idea.

"The school is hosting a school dance in a few weeks. We've, uhm, never done anything like that!" Izuku had said when they spoke a few weeks prior.

"Really?" Melissa asked, "Every school here has school dances. Going to the prom is a staple of finishing high school!"

"Yeah, everyone is really excited about it!" Izuku said excitedly. "A few people have already asked some people..." Izuku had trailed off, fidgeting in his seat. "Y-You know... to go as dates." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking awkward.

Melissa had waited, wondering if Izuku would ask her. It was something of a pipe dream of course. She was all the way in America and Izuku wasn't the type to ask anything major of her.

So when he didn't ask, it was somewhat disappointing, but Melissa had let it go. It was a long distance crush. There wasn't much she could do.

Or so she thought, until she'd received the call from Ochako and Tenya.

"We want to bring you here! As a surprise!" Ochako had said.

"A surprise?" Melissa had asked.

"Mhm! For Midoriya-kun!" Tenya had agreed.

"I think he might be too scared to ask you himself," Ochako had giggled.

Melissa's cheeks flushed. Izuku had wanted to ask her? "O-Oh, admittedly, I was hoping he was going to. It's been awhile since I've been to Japan a-and..."

"It's settled then!" Ochako said.

Melissa offered to pay for the full ticket, but Tenya insisted.

When they called her section, she made her way onto the plane. Soon she would be in Japan, seeing her dear friends after all this time. Mostly, she was looking forward to seeing Izuku again. They video chatted frequently, but actually getting to see his cheery smile and speak with him in person was another excitement entirely.

Taking her seat, she pulled out her phone one more time.

[Text: Surprise Trip]: Alright, see you on the other side!

She swiped her thumb over her screen one final time before switching her phone on to airplane mode. It was all going to be perfectly fine. Just because they were going to be at a dance together didn't mean she had to confess her feelings. Though it also seemed like the perfect place to do so. Melissa sighed, leaning back against her seat and closed her eyes. She had a long flight ahead of her, and if she could only get some rest, maybe she wouldn't be so caught up in her thoughts.

~~

His bow tie was crooked. Izuku twisted his head trying to make sure he wasn't crazy, but no, the tie definitely was off. He leaned forward, adjusting it in the mirror once more.

With a sigh, he pressed his teeth into his lower lip. It didn't really matter all that much, he wasn't trying to impress a date. There was only one person he really wanted to ask, but it would've been impossible for her to come. Asking any of the other girls felt disingenuous when he only wanted to be there with Melissa.

However, in the end, it felt strange to ask her when she was so far away.

Truly, Izuku was only looking to have a nice evening with his friends. They would dance and hang out; a night of fun.

They didn't have very many nights left at U.A, and Izuku wanted to make it special. These were friends he would cherish for years, people who finally made him feel loved. His friends were part of the reason his dream was coming true at all.

He pulled in a deep breath, trying not to feel so emotional. The prom hadn't even started yet!

There was a knock on his door and Izuku jumped, startled by the sound. "Coming!" he called out, opening the door to find Iida standing in the hall. He was in a deep blue suit, even darker than his blue hair.

"Hello Midoriya-kun," he said, shooting his hand into the air. "You look very nice."

"Iida-kun!" Izuku laughed. There were many things that hadn't changed from their first year and Iida's wild hand gestures were certainly something he hadn't grown out of.

"Shall we head to the gym?" he offered.

"Sounds good to me!" Izuku said. "Have most people gone over?" he asked and Iida quickly shook his head.

"No. Many of the girls are still getting ready, so their dates are forced to wait for them," he explained, but he pulled out his phone, glancing at his screen nervously. Odd. Izuku wondered if Iida was meeting a date after all.

The two of them made their way over to the gym and entered the main room. It had been transformed into a beautiful dance floor. A disco ball hung from the ceiling, glittering lights twinkling on every surface. Streamers hung on the walls and Present Mic stood in front of a DJ setup on a makeshift stage they had built.

"Wow!" Izuku said, turning excitedly towards Iida. "The dance committee did such a nice job!" Of course, Iida and Yaoyorozu were in charge of the dance.

"Thank you, Midoriya-kun!" Iida said, adjusting his glasses on his face. "We wanted to set everything up so that everyone could enjoy tonight, since all the classes will be here." He pulled out his phone again, nervously looking at the screen. It wasn't like Iida to be so on edge about... something.

"Right. Are you okay, Iida-kun?" Izuku asked and Iida leaped away from him, clutching his phone to his chest.

"Yes! I-I am p-perfectly fine!" he stammered, adjusting his glasses. "U-Uh... Midoriya-kun could you go wait over there for a moment?" he asked, shoving his hands against Izuku's back as he pushed him towards some of the chairs.

"U-Uh, sure!"

"Great, be right back!" he said and dashed away, disappearing from the gym.

"What the-..." Izuku blinked, looking where Iida had just been. So bizarre. Iida was always a little strange…

Come to think of it, everyone had been acting odd all day. Originally, Izuku had chalked it up to everyone being nervous for the dance, but most people had been avoiding him or acting jittery. Todoroki had blatantly turned in the other direction when he saw Izuku come to the kitchen for breakfast.

But why...? From what he could recall he hadn't done anything. He tapped his chin, his mind racing through a list of possibilities. Just a few days ago everything had seemed fine. So maybe they were nervous about him going to the dance alone? It seemed silly... he had seen his friends go on dates before. He had been around when they had gone on dates and yet-

"Deku-kun!" Uraraka's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts and he jerked his head up, seeing the girl running towards him, Kacchan not far behind. Her pink floor length dress had a smooth, sparkly bodice and long puffy skirt. Her short bob was straightened to frame her face perfectly. Adorable, as always.

"Uraraka-san!" he said, waving. She lunged forward, taking his hands in her own. "We have a surprise for you!"

"You do?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Mhm, mhm!" she giggled. "Iida-kun! Are you ready?"

"Yes!"

Behind Uraraka and Kacchan, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu stood with Iida, but all of them quickly moved out of the way to reveal the last person Izuku had expected to see this evening.

Melissa Shield.

She stood in the middle of the dance floor, her long blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun. Small pieces of hair framed her cheeks and she had worn her contacts, her green eyes glistening under the disco ball lighting. Her dress was a soft light pink, trailing down just below her ankles. It shaped her hips until the skirt flowed out, wavy and silky, like a pink ocean wave dancing around her legs. A rose sash was tied around her waist, ribbons lining the side of the dress.

Izuku was sure he looked like a fool, jaw dropped, in complete shock. Melissa Shield was really here.

"M-M-Melissa!?" he gasped, running immediately to her. "You're here?!"

"I am!" she laughed. "Hi, Izuku." She bowed her head. "It's good to see you."

"But, what? How? Why? When? Who... I... I don't... how?!" he stammered, words pouring from his mouth as fast as lightning, his brain unable to process the moment in front of him.

"Your friends invited me," she said. "They, uhm, said they thought you wanted me here-"

"We all know you wanted to ask her!" Uraraka chimed in, leaning toward them. "So Iida and I contacted her."

"B-But-"

"I... hope it's okay that I'm here?" she asked, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"Of course it is!" Izuku yelled, grabbing her hand. "I... I can't tell you how happy I am!"

She let out a small sigh, as if she had been holding her breath in anticipation. "I-I'm so glad..." she sighed, pressing her hand to her chest. "I was a little nervous."

"No! No, no, no, no!" he exclaimed. "D-Don't be nervous! I'm so happy you're here."

Uraraka giggled, bouncing up and down on her feet. "C'mon guys, let's give them a moment okay?" She pressed her hands against Kacchan's back and pushed him away, gesturing for everyone to follow.

Izuku smiled, staring at how beautiful Melissa looked. It was difficult to not reach out and touch her, just to make sure she was actually there. "I just... I can't believe you're here! Y-You look... wow... I-I mean amazing!"

She laughed, her cheeks flushing. It only made her look cuter. "Thanks," she smiled. "You look nice too. It's been awhile since we've been able to see one another in person."

"I know," he chuckled. "Hopefully I'll get to see you a lot when I'm in America next year?"

She nodded, a huge smile on her face. "I'm really excited! A-And admittedly, I thought you would think it was silly that I... couldn't wait until then to see you."

"Ah! Not at all!" he said, waving a hand frantically. "Actually, I... I wanted to invite you. I thought about it during our last video call."

"Mm, is that why you got all awkward at the end?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Y-Yeah," he muttered, letting out a soft sigh. "I wanted to, but it seemed so... silly," he admitted finally. "I mean, I'm coming to America in a few months and it's just a dance and it's not like..." he trailed off. It wasn't like Melissa was his girlfriend... he hadn't asked her to be that either.

"Like... what?" she asked.

Izuku laughed. "N-Nevermind! I-I'm just really excited you're here. Should we, uh, go dance?" he asked, squeezing her hand gently.

"Well, I guess that is the point of going to a dance!" she cheered and squeezed his hand back, pulling him out onto the dance floor.

The two of them rejoined the group, everyone excited to see Melissa. She, of course, was bombarded with hugs from Uraraka, Yaoyorozu and Jirou, the girls all laughing. The music thumped from wall to wall, students cheering and laughing as they all danced and moved together.

"Did we surprise you, Midoriya-kun?" Iida asked.

"Yeah!" he laughed. "I never expected her to come, but... I'm so happy," he said, his lips curling into a large smile.

"Now you can ask her out," Todoroki said and Izuku whipped his head around, blinking fast. "What? You said you wanted to."

"I-I said m-maybe and I couldn't find a good time and I don't even know if she wants to and-"

"Dude," Kaminari snorted, butting into the conversation. "She flew all the way here to be your date for the prom. Of course she likes you!"

Izuku felt his cheeks flush even more.

The two of them continued to dance with the group, and Izuku shoved all thoughts of asking Melissa to be his girlfriend aside. She was so smart, funny, and beautiful. She was confident, too, proud of her work. Izuku had grown far more confident over his time at U.A., but he didn't have much when it came to girls.

For now, he enjoyed having her here, and laughing with all of their friends.

It was a nice change of pace. They spent so much time training and studying, it was rare they ever had fun, more casual events like this. Yaoyorozu had brought a camera, and she and Ashido traded off taking pictures to capture memories for later, though Izuku already knew this was a night he wouldn't forget.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed and Present Mic threw on some slow ballad. The room halted, filling with awkward energy, everyone trying to figure out who to dance with.

Melissa tucked her hands behind her back, smiling as she glanced toward Izuku. He swallowed, "U-Uh, Melissa, should we... dance?"

"I'd love to," she smiled.

He extended his hand to her, pulling her close. Before, she had been taller than him, but after his growth spurt, he had a bit of height on her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and she placed her hand on his shoulders, the two of them swaying together.

"Thank you," he whispered, "for coming tonight."

"It was really my pleasure. It's nice seeing all of you and not just your face on a screen," she giggled.

"It's true and... uhm, you look really pretty. I-I know I said that but uhm, just wanted you to know again," he stammered.

She laughed. "Izuku, you don't have to be so nervous. It's just me."

He hated how awkward he was right now. One of the things he adored about Melissa was how comfortable he felt around her, how their friendship was natural and easy. This wasn't him at all. He knew he had to ask her and get it over with.

He squeezed her hand. "But... it's not just you. I-I mean it is but... you're... special to me. Tonight's special, I mean it's even more special with you here now and I guess... what I'm trying to ask is... do you want to be my girlfriend? I-I know long distance for a few more months will be hard but then-"

"Izuku," she said, cutting him off as she brought both her hands to his cheeks. She leaned forward, and brushed her lips against his, kissing him softly. His heart almost leapt into his throat and he gripped her waist hard, pushing back against her lips before she pulled back, leaving him desperate to do it at least one more time. "I do wanna be your girlfriend."

"You do? I-I mean I guess... heh... really?"

"Really," she smiled.

His lips pulled into a smile and he was convinced they would be stuck in that position. He gripped her waist and spun her around. "I-I'm so happy!"

"Me too!" she giggled.

"I'm... I'm really never going to forget this night," he said, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Me neither," she whispered, brushing her nose against his.

The music picked back up again and Melissa giggled, squeezing his hand. "Should we go dance with everyone again?"

"I noticed a few of them staring so I'm sure they're going to ask all the questions," he snorted.

"Might as well get it over with!" she teased, dragging him back toward the crowd, the group of them cheering and dancing together. He kept his fingers laced with Melissa's while they jumped and spun around. Though things were official, he couldn't seem to let her go.

"Shouto, you're special." His mother takes his tiny hands in her own and squeezes them tight. She trembles when she says it and there's a fear in her eyes. He recognizes it, sees it in the way others look at him.

No ever gets near him, like he's got some sort of disease.

He hears the ways they whisper about his corruption.

Shouto tilts his head. "Are Touya, Fuyumi, and Natsuo special too?" he asks. He never sees her look at them the same way she looks at him.

"They... are," she says. Her breath hitches, a soft hesitation Shouto barely catches onto.

"But I'm different," he says.

It's not like he doesn't know this. Even his appearance is different. His hair is half dark and half light, a small horn poking out of his forehead on the left side.

His mother presses her teeth into her bottom lip. "You are," she says and her trembling hands rise to his cheeks, cupping his face. "There are rules in heaven, Shouto," she explains to him then. "Give me your right hand."

Shouto unfolds his hand and faces his palm toward his mother. "This," she says, tapping her finger against his open palm, "is where your light is."

"My light?" he mumbles.

"Mhm. This is where grace will bless you and you can always light your way. Her hand hovers over his, pulsating as she lets her own grace trickle from her fingers into his hand. His eyes widen as he watches his hand glow.

"Wow," he breathes out, staring at his palm.

"Your left hand." Shouto begins to unfurl his fingers, but his mother quickly folds them back up, pressing them to his skin. "You must not use this power. It's scary."

"Scary..." he mumbles, clenching his small fist tighter.

"I know... It's not easy," she says. "But to stay in heaven, you have to follow the rules."

"Okay," he says. He looks at both of his clenched fists. It's odd how similar they look, and yet... one is bad and one is good. He doesn't know what happens if he can't stay in heaven, but he certainly doesn't want to find out.

~~

"Rules, rules, rules," Touya scoffs. He clicks his tongue, waving his wings back and forth. A few feathers slowly float down to the white cloud he's resting on. Shouto notices they're tinted gray. "Heaven is so boring, they only care about these darn rules."

"Touya!" Fuyumi scolds, frowning at her brother. "Don't say those sort of things in front of Shouto."

"What? Do you really think Shouto is going to stay in heaven forever?" he asks, and Shouto's face pales.

Fuyumi immediately rushes to his side, wrapping a protective arm around him. "Of course he's going to stay in heaven forever! We all are!"

"Don't be so naive, Fuyumi," he grumbles. "We're all going to fall eventually. That's our curse. A part of our father lives inside of us."

"S-Stop!" she hisses, covering Shouto's ears. It no longer makes a difference, but it's a nice gesture. They're not supposed to talk about their father; the King of Hell. He’s bad, and no longer allowed in heaven.

Shouto has a lot of questions, but he knows he's not supposed to ask. He wants to know what it means to fall. He wants to know why Touya seems so angry.

"Mom thinks she can protect Shouto," Touya scoffs. "She doesn't even let him see humans."

"Humans?" Shouto asks, immediately perking up at the idea of seeing something he isn't used to.

"Touya!" Fuyumi gasps, quickly glancing at her youngest brother.

"Yeah, humans," Touya smirks. "Did you know you can look at humans by going to the cloud pools?"

"What-"

"No, Shouto... It's okay-" Fuyumi says, cutting him off, but Shouto frowns. He wants to know more. He needs to know more.

"It's not okay, Fuyumi," Touya hisses. "None of us are going to be able to escape this."

Fuyumi sighs, clutching Shouto's shoulders. "You don't... you don't have to say it like that."

Shouto's not sure why Fuyumi seems so visibly upset, but he wants to know more about the humans. Getting information about them seems possible, as opposed to getting information about his father which he knows will never happen.

~~

Later, when Shouto is alone with his mother he asks her; how can he see the humans? He wants to explore, go see other parts of heaven but he's not allowed to. He wants to ask about his father too, but he knows he will be met with resistance.

"No, Shouto honey, who told you that?" His mother's smile seems forced, like it physically hurts her to put her face like that.

"Touya," he mumbles, feeling a bit foolish for asking at all.

"Sweetheart, I promise you, it's better if you don't go near humans," she says, gently stroking her hands through his hair. His mother is soft, and gentle. When she speaks, it's impossible for him not to listen.

"Do you remember," she says, pulling back to cover his hands with her own, "when we talked about your light?"

Shouto nods.

"Speaking to humans will only bring out the darkness," she says, squeezing his palms. "We don't want that."

Shouto shakes his head back and forth quickly. He doesn't want to be like his father. He knows that much.

The dark side of him is bad. That's what Touya was talking about too. He sees the way Touya is corrupted by some form of darkness, and how Touya speaks like staying in heaven is impossible. These thoughts, they're heavy in Shouto's chest, they weigh him down and make him question what his dark side is. He never wants to use it if it means having to leave his mother and his siblings.

"Mommy," he speaks quietly, looking at both of their hands. "Am I going to have to leave heaven?"

She blinks, looking genuinely confused. "Who told you that, Shouto!?" she gasps, pulling him in close.

"Touya," he mutters.

His mother's arms wrap around him so tightly, it feels like she might crush him. "No, no... don't listen to Touya. As long as I'm here, I will never let you fall."

"Okay," he says, pressing his face close to her chest.

He doesn't want to leave heaven. It's nice here.

~~

As nice as it is in heaven, it's also a little boring. It's why Shouto gets curious. He wants to know more about the cloud pools. He wants to know more about humans.

He sneaks away one day, following Natsuo as he heads away from the palace of clouds where his mother lives. Normally, he doesn't like leaving home. He hates all the looks he gets, angels staring at his dark side like he's the carrier of an infectious disease. Today, he wears a large robe, using the excess fabric to cover his head with the white cloth. Hopefully, he can hide his hair and small horn.

There are many sections to heaven. There's the gateway, where souls are sorted and given their jobs.

There are large grace pools where angels receive their grace, their energy that keeps them functioning. They have a private grace pool in their cloud palace, so Shouto doesn't normally get to see the public ones. Their mother is a special angel, an archangel, and she is in charge of watching over things in the afterlife, making sure things run smoothly. Shouto doesn't know much about that, but he knows she reports directly to All Might, the ultimate ruler.

"We have to be nice to All Might. He is a good man, and he's the reason you are allowed to stay." That's what his mother always says.

He is curious if the public grace pools are any different, but today, he wants to see the cloud pools; he wants to see humans. There is a particular area for children to watch over other children. He isn't supposed to play there, but Shouto thinks one time can't possibly hurt.

He slips into the sanctuary. It's not hard, the doors are always open, but still Shouto keeps his robes pulled over his head. He can't let any of these angels see who he is. Most of them are distracted anyway, looking into their own grace pools.

There are a few open clouds, standing in the corner of the room, so Shouto makes his way over and pulls himself up to the edge, peering down into the pool. He's not sure how it works, but he assumes the cloud will respond to his light. He glances to his dark side and clenches his fist. He doesn't want any corruption to land in the pool, and he doesn’t want his darkness to take over while he looks at humans.

Swallowing, he waves his hand over the pool, and lets his grace drip down into the water. The ripples span out across the surface and a small girl comes into view. She's sitting on her bed, looking at a picture book of flowers. She seems content, humming softly as she turns the pages and struggles to sound out the words and read the descriptions of each flower. It's mesmerizing, watching her read slowly, turning each page, her fingers tracing over the letters.

He remembers his mother’s words; how humans will corrupt him. How could someone so small and innocent possibly bring out the darkness in him?

Angels are supposed to be able to help humans and give them grace. Shouto presses his hand to the water, letting his flow down to Earth, spreading into her body. She glows for a minute, and she pauses, looking upward as if she feels the spike of energy.

"T-Tulip..." she stammers out loud, reading the word with ease. A huge smile pulls across her face, and Shouto can't help but smile too.

"Momo! It's time for dinner!" A new voice echoes in the distance of the pool and Shouto doesn’t want her to leave.

"Coming, Mother!" she calls out, letting the book fall to the bed. There's a huge smile on her face when she rushes out of the room and the image in the pool disappears.

Shouto knows he should feel weaker, having given her his grace. But he doesn't... if anything he feels stronger, more alive. Why did his mother hide this from him? It can’t possibly be bad.

"Momo," he whispers. Her name is fun, it has a bounce to it, making his lips smack together. He loves it. He wants to say it as loud as he can, but he doesn't want to get in trouble.

He'll keep this secret for himself, clutch it closely to his chest and wrap himself in it. Then, he can come back whenever he wants.

It becomes his new game, sneaking out, and watching the dark haired girl on Earth.

It doesn't take long for Shouto to learn many things about Momo. She's a small child, just like him. She's also an only child, but her parents don't seem to give her the attention she deserves. She spends a lot of time reading in her room. She likes science; he's seen her do a few little experiments. They never go well, but she never stops trying. She loves flowers, and she definitely has a green thumb, unlike her experiments, her plants don't die. And, she always hums when she reads, or does anything really.

Shouto is, perhaps, a little obsessed. He wants to speak with her, but he knows that's really not allowed. He wants to reach through the cloud and pull her up to heaven so they can play together. He can tell she won't judge him, or view him as corrupted. He knows she'll smile and laugh with him, treat him like an equal. Maybe they could watch other humans together, she would probably enjoy that.

He does give her grace, especially on the days she looks a little bit sadder than normal. It always seems to cheer her up. Even if it means succumbing to his dark side, Shouto would give her all of his grace if it would keep her adorable smile on her face.

He's lucky no one asks where he goes during the days, but no one seems to notice when he slips away for a few hours to check on her. At first, he thought he would like to watch a variety of humans, but after the first day, he can't imagine choosing anyone but Momo.

"You seem happy lately," Fuyumi hums one morning, the two of them sitting in the grace pool together.

Shouto shrugs. "I've been exploring a little bit." He can admit this much to Fuyumi. She's not the type who would tattle.

"Oh!" she says, raising her eyebrow at him. "It's good for you to leave the palace. As long as you're safe."

"I always wear my hood so people can't see my dark side..." Of course she’s worried.

"That's good," Fuyumi whispers and scoots closer to him. "I only say that because... I don't want to lose... my brother." She pauses awkwardly in the middle of her sentence and Shouto knows it's because she's terrified of losing Touya. Every day he seems to grow angrier and angrier.

Emotions that strong shouldn't be possible in Heaven.

Shouto wonders if he's in trouble, with how often he thinks of Momo.

Shouto spends his days watching her, enjoying her talking about the things she loves. He knows she's not talking to him; she's usually talking to her stuffed animals, but he likes to pretend her words are meant for him. Sometimes, he answers her softly to himself, even when he knows she can't hear.

~~

The next time Shouto watches her, Momo looks sad. She's sitting on her bed, sniffling, her nose runny and snotty. Her knees are tucked up to her chest and her cheeks are stained with wet streaks from her tears. He has no idea what could've made her cry, but he wants it to go away.

He presses his hand to the top of the pool and let's the light leak out from him. "Please," he whispers, "please be okay."

Shouto needs Momo to smile.

He presses his hand against the pool as hard as he can and he gasps when his fingers press through the reflection. His eyes widen and he glances around quickly, his arm getting sucked further and further into the pool. This... isn't supposed to happen?!

He presses his other hand to the pool, trying to pull himself back, but he only sinks further. His other hand falls into the water, as if he's being dragged into quicksand.

Just as he goes to scream, he tumbles into the pool. His body falling in without sound, like the cloud has swallowed him whole. He slams his eyes shut, attempting to flap his wings, but the liquid is heavy, enveloping his body as he falls continuously.

He stops abruptly, landing on a squishy surface. When he opens his eyes, he realizes he's on Momo's bed.

His eyes widen, and so do hers and both of them open their mouths wide to scream. Shouto tumbles backward, falling off her bed, despite the fact that he could've saved himself with his wings.

Momo let's out a piercing yell and thrusts her finger in his direction. "W-Who... W-What!? Who are you!?" she yells.

Groaning, Shouto rubs his head before looking up at the ceiling. There's a small light where he came down, the pool of water still glistening above the two of them. This... definitely isn't supposed to happen.

He doesn't have an answer, because really he's no one. She has become his world, and to her he isn't anyone he would expect her to know.

"Momo?!" A voice calls from downstairs. "Is everything okay? You better not be making a mess again!"

"I-I'm fine, Mother!" she yells back and quickly wipes her eyes. "I-if you don't tell me who you are, I-I will call my mother up here!"

"I'm... your guardian angel?" he says slowly. It's the only logical answer he can come up with, and it's not entirely untrue.

Momo blinks, staring at him while he slowly rises up and tucks his wings against his back. "A-An... angel?" she asks, her dark eyes wide as she leans forward on her bed. It's like she wants to get closer, to reach out and touch him with her small hands, so she can prove to herself this is true.

"Yeah," Shouto mutters and he pulls the hood of the cloak down further. He doesn't want to scare her again by showing her his stupid horn.

"Why do I have a guardian angel?" she asks, her finger tracing a small pattern on the comforter on her bed.

"You seemed lonely when I looked into the pool so I started watching over you."

Her eyes widened again. Maybe that wasn't the right thing to say. "Lonely..." she mumbles, letting out a long sigh. "I guess that makes sense." She twists her lips, tilting her head back and forth. Her dark eyes stare at him, processing all the information. From watching her, he knows she's a very logical person, yet so far she's been shockingly open to this. "Can I not see your face?"

He sucks in a long breath of air. He always thought Momo would be understanding. He wanted to believe he could be around her and she wouldn't judge him, despite him never speaking to her. But now, he is terrified.

"Y-You can't laugh at me," he whispers.

"I won't," she says.

Slowly, he pulls the hood back, letting it rest on the back of his wings.

Momo gasps and leans forward, her hand reaching up towards his horn. She immediately pulls back, realizing just what she was about to do. "A-Are you sure you're an angel?!" she asks and covers her mouth. "I-I'm sorry... that was rude!"

"My mom says I'm special..." he mumbles, feeling foolish even saying it.

"It's… incredible," she whispers.

No one has ever looked at him with such awe before. His cheeks flush and he watches the way her eyes take in the sight in front of her. "Did... you come because I was crying?"

Shouto sighs, rubbing the back of his head. "I... well... angels aren't really supposed to come here. So I don't... really know what happened but..." he trails off. He's not supposed to be upset about her emotions, he's not supposed to feel anything for her.

But more than anything he just wants a friend.

"I like it when you're happy," he admits.

"I could... I could be happy," she whispers, wiping her eyes. "I-I mean... how many children can say they have a guardian angel!" she giggles.

Shouto doesn't want to tell her that plenty of children have guardian angels. Most of them have actual angels... not... whatever he is.

"How does it work!?" she asks. She has a curious mind, so he's not surprised by the reaction. He's also not surprised she bombards him with questions either.

"How does... what work?" Shouto asks.

"How do you, uhm... guard me?!" Her eager eyes glisten with excitement.

"Oh..." Shouto says and holds out his hand. "Angels have... grace," he explains. "We give a small amount of it to humans we want to help." He lets it flow from his hand, watching it travel into her chest.

"Ah..." she whispers and glances down. "It just... went poof?!"

"It's... supposed to help you."

She blinks, her eyes perpetually wide. "Wow," she breathes out. "But why do you have such strange hair?" she asks, gesturing to his forehead.

He presses his lips together. He's not supposed to talk about his father... but Momo is different, right?

"My father... he's a demon." He doesn't need to elaborate that he's actually the King of Hell. "But my mother is an archangel, so I have... both kinds of energy."

"Wow!" Momo blinks. "That's amazing! You must be extra powerful!" She leans forward and takes both of his hands, not thinking anything of it. Shouto has never seen someone act so casual with him. It's shocking. Momo doesn't care about touching his dark side, in fact she's impressed by it.

"I-I dunno," he says. "I don't use the darkness. It's dangerous." He thinks about his mother’s words. Momo, a human, is also supposedly dangerous, but she seems anything but. He hasn’t felt a bit of his corruption around her. He’s decided, there’s no way she’s dangerous.

"Oh..." she says, looking down at both of his hands. "I see."

"I-I won't hurt you!" he says quickly, wanting to reassure her.

She giggles again. "I didn't think you would! I mean you're my guardian angel, right?!"

He nods quickly. That's what he wants to be, at least.

"Uhm, so... how long are you here for?" she asks, still smiling at him.

Shouto shrugs and glances up at the pool, noticing it's shrinking. "I-I think I need to go now. The hole to heaven is shrinking.

"What?" She looks sad again, and Shouto hates it. He wants to stay with her as long as he can. "Will you come back?"

Her voice is so quiet and small. Shouto knows heaven doesn't like it when angels break the rules but... he wants to see her.

He wants a friend.

"I will. I’ll come back."