Archive of Our Own

Hanta doesn’t notice Ojirou until the aftermath of the USJ.

It doesn’t matter how deeply Hanta believes flashy quirks aren’t everything: he still falls for the explosions, the green energy, Dark Shadow, and, of course, Todoroki’s absolutely insane quirk.

Of course quirks like invisibility, anivoice, and tail blend in the background.

At first, Hanta wonders how they got into the hero course. It’s easy to think that when electricity crackles in the air and a glittering laser illuminates the sky. After witnessing those quirks, he doesn’t really think about Ojirou.

And then the attack at the USJ happens.

“I didn’t know I was the only one alone,” Ojirou says once they make it back to school, and Hanta freezes.

Alone?

He vaguely hears Hagakure say she was actually with Todoroki, but it goes in one ear and out the next.

What happened at the USJ was scary—no, it was terrifying. Hanta was one of the lucky ones who ended up in a bigger group, with a teacher, and outside of a disaster zone.

Ojirou faced off against a hoard of villains in the fire zone by himself with a quirk that can’t do anything to negate the fire.

Why is everyone bypassing that? Why is Ojirou bypassing it? Yeah, All Might faced an impossible beast, but he won like always. He’s the number one hero. Yeah, some of his other classmates fought the Nomu, too, but they had each other.

Aoyama runs around, begging for attention, and the conversation is forgotten, but Hanta can’t forget what he heard.

Anyone able to fight villains on their own in the midst of a fire deserves to be in the hero course, no question about it. Ojirou might deserve it more than everyone else.

After that, Hanta finds himself paying more attention to Ojirou in class and training.

He’s… he’s amazing. An expert in martial arts, an absolute beast in hand-to-hand combat, and he’s so clever with his quirk.

Tail isn’t a flashy quirk, nor is it a particularly useful one at first glance, but the more Hanta watches, the more awed he gets and the more he wants to reach out and tell him.

He doesn’t tell him for awhile. Nerves get the better of him, he supposes. Which is weird because Hanta doesn’t really get nervous.

In the fourth week at Yuuei, All Might has their class doing one-on-one quirk battles. These exercises are frequent enough that they fall into a steady rhythm easily. Hanta is set to go third with Iida as his opponent.

It goes… alright. Better than Hanta expected, at least. He’s not bad at these exercises, he’s just better at long distance fighting, and he keeps getting matched up against people with close-ranged quirks.

Losing nearly every time is defeating.

It’s a pretty close fight, and Hanta can;t help but be proud of himself, even after losing. There was a moment where Hanta set a tape trap on the ground, and it would’ve worked if not for an engine-powered kick to the back.

Yeah, it doesn’t feel good. It’s nothing a quick trip to Recovery Girl can’t fix, though.

He comes back to the stands just in time to hear All Might announce, “Ojirou-kun versus Todoroki-kun!”

The second Ojirou and Todoroki are out of earshot, Bakugou snorts. “This won’t even be a battle,” he says, kicking his feet up onto the bench in front of him.

“What do you mean?” asks Ashido.

“I mean Tail has no chance of beating Icyhot—their quirks just aren’t comparable. One is fit for a hero, and the other is barely fit for a sidekick.”

Something unpleasant twists and turns in Hanta’s gut, something painfully familiar.

(“Congrats on making general studies!”

“No way you got into the hero course with a quirk like that!”

“Sero-kun, perhaps you should look into other career choices or a different school, at least. Yuuei is the top hero school in the country. Think rationally.”)

“Hey!” Hagakure cries, gloved-hands resting around where her hips are. “Ojirou-kun can hold his own!”

“Like hell he can!”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya hisses, face twisted in something like resigned indignation.

Bakugou scoffs. “What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.”

And to Hanta’s horror, some of his classmates avert their gaze, some of their cheeks flush in some kind of shame. Their silence speaks volumes, but Hanta can’t judge—he hasn’t stood up for Ojirou, either.

His tongue feels like lead in his mouth, so heavy it won’t move no matter how much he wants it to.

Hanta isn’t a coward, but for some reason, he is right now. Maybe because he thought it would stop at Yuuei, maybe it’s the realization that people will question his right to be a hero his entire life, no matter how great of a hero he may become. And that’s what keeps him in his seat.

Hagakure isn’t a coward, though. Her fingers dig into her hips as she argues with Bakugou. He misses half of the conversation, but he comes back to his head as Hagakure declares, “You’re an asshole, Bakugou-kun.”

And Bakugou just shrugs. “Well, this asshole is going to be the number one hero some day while you and Tail might just make it as a sidekick.”

“Hey—” Kirishima starts, but he trails off when he notices Hagakure’s rude hand gesture, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

Damn, she put on the gloves just so Bakugou could see them. That’s dedication.

(and so much more than Hanta’s able to do)

“Hagakure-kun! Please be more respectful towards your classmates!” Iida cuts in before Bakugou can retaliate, hands chopping.

Hagakure splutters. “You have an issue with me flipping him off but not with the quirkist bullshit he was spewing?”

“It’s not bullshit if you’re right!”

“… I’m gonna deck you.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Bring it, bitch.”

“Oh, you’re on, bitch,” Hagakure spits.

All Hanta can do is watch in some sort of sublime neutrality, too struck to do or say anything as Hagakure leaps to her feet and stomps towards Bakugou.

It’s official—Hagakure is the coolest person in class, hands down.

“Stop it, both of you!” Iida interrupts, now literally stepping between them. “This behavior is not becoming of future heroes!” He sighs then turns towards Hagakure. “I was going to reprimand Bakugou-kun for his vulgarity and rudeness to a fellow classmate—”

“Oh, go to hell, Glasses.”

Iida’s eye twitches, but he stands strong which is very impressive. “And Bakugou, you cannot talk about your classmates in this way! We’re supposed to be working together, not arguing! Due to your bickering, we missed the opportunity to watch and support our classmates!”

Both Bakugou and Hagakure settle down with a huff and turn their attention back to the fight. And it’s a shame because Hanta wants to see more of Ojirou’s abilities and fighting style.

In the end, Todoroki wins, but Ojirou put up a fight. Battling Todoroki isn’t easy for anyone since he’s so well-trained, but it’s even harder for people with non-combative quirks.

“Pfft, told ya,” Bakugou scoffs.

Iida scolds Bakugou after giving Hagakure a look: stand down, it means.

Hanta’s hands tighten into fists. Anyone would’ve lost to Todoroki. In fact, Bakugou’s lost to him before. The loss isn’t anything new. Why is it different when Ojirou is the one losing?

What gives him the right to act like he’s so much better than everyone else?

(“So, Sero-kun, where do you want to go to high school?”

“Yuuei! I want to be a hero, just like The Fly!”

Silence and then—laughter. Bent over, knee-slapping, snorting laughter, as if Hanta hadn’t just shared his biggest dream.

“Wait, you're being serious?”

“Come on, man! You gotta be realistic!”

“Yeah, like, you can shoot tape out of your elbows, but The Fly has wings coming outta his arms! Your quirk isn’t that cool, dude.”

Murmurs of agreement swarm him—growing louder and louder, making his chest tighten. But he keeps smiling.

Just keep smiling.)

Ojirou returns to the bleachers sweating his ass off with dirt stuck to his skin. He gives everyone a worn out smile as Todoroki passes him, a mild chill raining down on everyone as he settles himself far away from the rest of class. He’s almost as sweaty as Ojirou, but considerably less flushed.

As Ojirou plops beside Hagakure, Hanta thinks that the red hue to his cheeks is endearing—just a little bit. It’s a strange thought, and Hanta ducks his head lest Ojirou think he’s staring at him.

Throughout the rest of the matches, Hanta watches Ojirou. He tries not to, really, he does! He just can’t stop thinking about what Bakugou said, about how Ojirou was alone at the USJ, about how he knows what it’s like to be underestimated because of his quirk and he still stayed silent.

Maybe that’s why he finds himself chasing after Ojirou once they’re done for the day. It’s almost instinctive, in a way, his body moves before he has a chance to think..

“Hey, Ojirou-kun!” Hanta calls, jogging to catch up with him. Ojirou turns around and tilts his head, like he isn’t used to being called out to. The thought makes Hanta’s heart heavy.

When he catches up, he falters. He stares into Ojirou’s confused eyes (and sees himself), trying to remember what he wants to say. There’s so much he could say (I understand, I’m sorry no one believed in you back there, you’re so much more than you think…), but he’s never had to put it into words before.

Instead, what comes out is, “Just wanted to say that you did a great job in training today, that’s all.”

A small smile graces his lips. “Ah, thanks, Sero-kun. I wouldn’t say great, exactly but…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, I thought you held your own really well,” Hanta replies. “You almost got him with that one move—the one where you wrapped your tail around his legs and wrestled him to the ground—you’re really strong! Besides, Todoroki-kun is professionally trained, so I don’t think anyone in our class can beat him right now.”

Ojirou’s shoulders relax and he stands a little taller. “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you.” He pauses, bites his lip, then adds: “Your fight with Iida-kun was impressive.”

Hanta shrugs, wincing at the memory of Iida’s last blow. “It was alright.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, your quirk is really cool.”

Yeesh, when did the sun shine so hot? Hanta pulls at his collar, fanning himself. “Oh, uh, thank you. Your quirk is awesome, too!”

A light pink spreads across Ojirou’s cheeks, and Hanta only has a few seconds to admire it before it disappears. “Well, I’m going to, uh, hit the showers,” Ojirou says. “See you tomorrow, Sero-kun!”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow!” Hanta waves, and some of the weight has lifted off his chest.

— —

Both Hanta and Ojirou make it into the finals of the sports festival, and he’s ecstatic! He holds himself back from hugging Ojirou (which would be weird—they haven’t talked much since that one time after training, so it’s strange for him to gravitate towards him) and instead claps him on the back, beaming. “Let’s do our best, ‘kay?”

But Ojirou doesn’t return his smile. “How can I do my best when I haven’t earned the right to?” he grits out, fists clenched.

He walks away before Hanta can question him.

A heaviness weighs in his gut, his heart, as Ojirou disappears in the crowd. He’s not sure why, but it’s there and it’s unsettling.

And then Ojirou withdraws from the finals

"I know this is a great opportunity. And I know how stupid it must seem to throw it away,” he says in front of not just their class, not just their teachers and the audience, but also in front of hundreds of pro heroes, “but this final tournament… everyone else made it here by their own strength. I can’t… I can’t be up there with everyone without knowing what really happened.”

Some people protest, try to dissuade him, but Hanta can barely hear them. He’s focused on Ojirou—on his tense posture, his trembling hands, this look of pure anguish on his face.

“That’s not it,” Ojirou protests, voice shaking. “I’m talking about my pride here! I can’t…” he trails off, hiding his face with his hand. But he isn’t covering tears or anger, it seems as if he’s covering shame.

Midnight accepts his withdrawal, and Ojirou walks away, closely followed by Nirengeki from class b.

Hanta wants to reach out, to tell him not to waste this opportunity, but Ojirou is gone by the time he finds his voice. But who is he to determine what’s worth dropping out over? There’s something stirring in him—adoration? Maybe pride?

But he doesn’t have time to figure it out because now he has his own fight to worry about because he’s against Todoroki Shouto—the prodigy.

And, oh boy, does Hanta lose quickly and pathetically. He leaves the ring freezing, shivering violently, and with a terribly bruised ego. He can practically hear his old classmates as his teeth chatter, and they’re laughing at him, giving him the old, “I told you so”.

He’s ushered to Recovery Girl’s station, grinning the whole time because grinning is easy and it’s what he’s supposed to do. No one likes a sore loser. He laughs off the ‘nice tries’ and ‘you’ll do better next time’s.

There isn’t much a kiss from Recovery Girl can do to help him, so he’s swaddled in blankets, given dry compresses, and made to drink hot tea. There’s a tv set up in the infirmary so the injured losers can still watch the festival, so Hanta distracts himself with that.

By the time the fight between Iida and Mei ends, Hanta is significantly warmer but is still cold enough to shiver sporadically. He takes periodical sips of his tea, trying to keep as much of his body under the blankets as he can.

“Hey, Sero-kun.”

Hanta whips around to see Ojirou hovering in the door, shifting awkwardly. Once he recovers from the surprise, he sits up eagerly and suppresses a smile. “Hi, Ojirou-kun!”

What’re you doing here?”

“Do you mind if I come in?” When Hanta nods his assent, Ojirou shuffles to sit at his bedside. “I wanted to check in on you. Your fight was kinda intense. Nice job against Todoroki-kun, by the way.”

 Hanta snorts. “You don’t have to lie to me, dude. I know I lost pretty badly.”

Ojirou purses his lips. “Don’t sell yourself short. What was it you told me? You don’t think anyone can beat Todoroki-kun right now? I think that still stands. Besides, he looked pretty upset before the fight even started.”

“Oh, you remember that?”

“It’s hard to forget, especially since it changed my perspective on things.” Ojirou pauses, eyes trained on Hanta's face as if searching for something. “You still look pretty cold.”

As if on cue, a shiver comes over Hanta. He smiles sheepishly. “Yeah. It was… a lot. Todoroki-kun apologized while he melted the ice. Something pissed him off before the match and he lost his temper.”

Ojirou winces. “Yeah, he looked out of it. I hope he’s alright.”

“Me too.”

There’s a brief lull in their conversation, then Ojirou asks: “Do you want to pet my tail?”

The question comes out of nowhere, and Hanta practically chokes on his own spit.

Ojirou, as if realizing how out of pocket that was, frantically waves his hands in front of him. “I mean, uh, Kaminari-kun says it’s soft and warm and it helps him relax, so I just thought that…”

Hanta has actually wondered what his tail feels like. Sometimes, when he sees Kaminari playing with it, a weird pang of jealousy courses through him. It doesn’t really make sense, especially because he knows Kaminari is just fidgeting. It doesn’t mean anything.

(but Hanta still isn’t sure why it would matter if it did)

And he and Ojirou are hardly close friends, so he has no reason to be territorial.

He must’ve been lost in thought for too long because Ojirou ducks his head. “Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure if that would be weird or not and—”

“No!” Hanta interrupts. “It’s not weird! I was just wondering what it feels like, is all! And I’m kinda honored you’d let me touch it.”

“Oh.” Ojirou looks back up at him, a light tint in his cheeks. “Okay, um, here you go. Kaminari-kun likes running the backside of his hand along it. Or he plays with the end.”

With that, he plops his tail in Hanta’s lap.

Hanta slips a hand out of his blanket pile and holds it over Ojirou’s tail, unsure of where to start. It’s a little nerve-wracking and feels kinda intimate, like he’s about to touch a part of Ojirou’s soul. But his tail waggles a bit, as if asking to be played with, and Hanta chuckles.

Eventually, he decides to just go for it. He starts with the end.

Ojirou’s tail, as Kaminari says, is incredibly soft. Hanta runs his fingers through the tuft of hair, scratching it as if petting a cat. The tuft is well taken care of and, although there are little scars along it, the meat of his tail is soft, too.

Somehow, playing with Ojirou’s tail does bring back some body warmth. Maybe it’s because of how hard Hanta laughs when Ojirou tickles his chin with the tuft or maybe it’s the genuine joy bouncing it back and forth between his hands brings him or maybe it really is just that soft. Whatever it is, Hanta feels warmer, and that’s what matters.

They settle down after awhile, and Hanta’s taken to mindlessly brushing his hands along the meat of the tail all the way down to the end as they refocus on the tv while the next match begins.

A pang of sadness settles in his stomach as he watches Bakugou and Uraraka walk into the ring.

“I wish I made it further,” Hanta blurts out as the fight begins. It’s impressive how well the two of them move—they make it look so natural. “At least I made it to the finals. A lot of others didn’t.”

“You’re creative and tactical, so I bet you would’ve gotten farther if you weren’t against Todoroki-kun right off the bat,” Ojirou comments. “You kinda got screwed by the draw.”

It’s a nice thought, and Hanta almost preens at the compliment, but he can’t bring himself to believe it. “Maybe,” he replies. “The festival has shown me that I just need to work harder if I want to prove myself.”

Prove he’s more than basic, boring, plain, that he isn’t a tool or lucky—he deserves to be here.

Although he doesn’t say it out loud, he must be making some kind of face because Ojirou nods. “It’s hard to stand out in a positive way with quirks like ours. If we do well, we get backhanded praise for ‘keeping up’, but it’s like people wait for us to mess up to prove they were right—that we can’t be heroes with our quirks.”

(“Guys! I got into Yuuei!”

“Wow! Congrats on making general studies!”

Hanta falters, but quickly shakes it off. “No, I made the hero course!”

Laughter—his friends are laughing at him. “How?”

“I practiced a lot and came up with some cool moves! You know those old American hero comics? There’s this one called Spiderman, and he’s just like me except he shoots webs instead of tape! I read all the comics and—”

“That’s different,” his friends interrupt, “he can shoot webs. No offense, but you can be found in a junk drawer.”

A junk drawer.

Hanta plasters a smile on his face and changes the topic. “Did you hear about what Best Jeanist did last night—”)

“Heh, yeah.” Hanta scratches the back of his neck. “It does feel like that, doesn’t it?”

Ojirou hums, staring very intently at the ground. “You were the first person to tell me my quirk was awesome. And you comforted me after Todoroki-kun beat me that day. I don’t know if you could see my embarrassment or just wanted to be kind, but it meant a lot to me and helped motivate me to work harder. I want to return the favour. Your quirk is powerful, no matter how far you got in the tournament. The hero world is built for flashy quirks. There’s a reason we don’t see a lot of Wash or Thirteen merch. But you’re more amazing than you think you are—we both are, we all are. So, I hope you’re proud of how far you made it because you earned it.”

It’s as if someone pressed a mute button for the world around them, because, right now, Hanta can only fathom the two of them. Time stopped, and they are existing in this little moment together. The sports festival in the background, the beeping and rustling and soft conversations throughout the infirmary, the cold, it all faded into nothingness.

A sudden dryness scratches his throat, so he lets go of Ojirou’s tail to drink more tea.

His head swarms with thoughts that are so detached Hanta struggles to form a coherent idea. He can’t think, he just feels, and although he can’t quite name the feeling in his chest, it’s warm—warmer than the blankets and tea and compresses.

“Thank you,” he says once their moment pops and sound returns. It doesn’t seem like enough, he should say more, but he comes up blank. What else is there to say when the person he secretly looks up to compliments him—understands him like no one else?

Cheering blares from the tv—Bakugou won. Not surprising, but Hanta kinda wanted Uraraka to win. Look, he loves the guy, but Bakugou could use some humbling and Uraraka has been working so hard lately because she has something to prove, too.

That’s the last match of the first round. Present Mic announces a break and then a tie-breaker between Kirishima and Tetsutetsu.

Hanta peers at Ojirou, who is sitting with his hands in his lap, watching the tv with a slight frown.

“I thought, uh, I thought it was really admirable of you to withdraw from the competition,” Hanta says. “Not many people would do that—I don’t know if I would be able to.”

Ojirou waves him off. “It wasn’t much, really. I just couldn’t call myself a hero if I didn’t get there honestly. Honor and integrity mean a lot to me, I guess.”

Hanta shakes his head and sits up straighter, dislodging some of his blankets. Without missing a beat, Ojirou leans forward enough to adjust them, shooting him a crooked smile. Hanta’s face and chest heat up, but that means the blankets are working, so that’s good.

“No, it’s…” he splutters, struggling to find the words to express how incredible Ojirou really is. “It’s… it’s brave. You’re brave. I know that kid from class b withdrew, too, but you did it first and… I really admire you for having the guts to do that, even after everyone kept trying to change your mind.”

Ojirou opens his mouth to respond when Recovery Girl comes bustling in, clicking her tongue until Hanta retreats fully back into his blanket cocoon, hands and arms safely tucked away.

Then Recovery Girl directs one of those Looks to Ojirou who reads the room. He hastily stands up and bows. “Sorry, I know you’re busy! I’ll get out of your hair. Thank you for taking care of us!”

Recovery Girl huffs, but it sounds more polite than irritated. “Aw, you’re sweet, young man. Now, if you're really thankful, make sure to take care of yourself, you hear?”

“Will do,” Ojirou nods as she ducks behind another set of curtains, mumbling about the damn sports festival and how students have no regard for their own safety. “See you later, Sero-kun. And, again, great job today, no matter what anyone says!”

He turns to walk away, and, again, Hanta’s body moves on its own, grabbing Ojirou’s wrist.

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Hanta lets go of Ojirou and chuckles wearily. “Um, before you go, I was wondering if you’d be interested in training together sometime. Or if you’d be down to teach me some martial arts. My quirk is best for long-ranged attacks, so it’d be good to get better at hand-to-hand.”

Hanta isn’t sure what compelled him to ask, in fact, he wasn’t even aware that he was considering the possibility until the question slipped out. He doesn’t regret it, though. He wants to get better, and Ojirou is one of the best.

Ojirou’s lips quirk into another soft smile. “Sure, but only if you help me practice fighting long-ranged opponents. I think we could make some cool ultimate moves with our quirks combined.”

“Deal.”

They exchange numbers and part ways.

When Hanta gets home that evening, his parents are in the midst of a fight, but he doesn’t care because he has training plans with a friend!

— —

It isn’t until after internships that Hanta and Ojirou can set up a time to train together.

“Wow, Yuuei’s gym is really nice,” Hanta comments, stretching his arms as he and Ojirou enter the gym.

“Yeah,” Ojirou says, leading him to an area with training mats. “It’s much nicer than my backyard.”

“Better than my basement, too.” Hanta snorts. “You come here often?” He channels a bit of Kaminari and wags his brows with a cheesy grin.

Ojirou rolls his eyes but smiles. “I do, actually. Almost every day.”

And it shows. Ojirou wears a tank top that shows off his arms and back, and his biceps are huge. Now, he’s no Kirishima or Satou, but damn if he doesn’t look good.

Honestly, no one talks about Ojirou’s muscles enough. They have silly muscle competitions in the locker rooms and with the girls, but Ojirou’s impressive six pack always gets forgotten about, and it’s a shame because it looks good and he worked hard for it.

“So, how do you want to start?”

Hanta hums. “I know I said I wanted to work on close-ranged attacks, but we’ve been doing more of that in class lately. I kinda want to come up with a move together—see what we can do. With quirks like ours, we have to be creative. I want to surprise some people.”

“I’m game. How about a warm-up spar to start us off? No quirks?”

“Bring it.”

No one in class compares to Ojirou in hand-to-hand combat, so Hanta can’t even be upset by his defeat because Ojirou is just that good. He lasts longer than he was expecting, though, so he’d say he held his own well enough.

For some reason, though, he gets thrown off his game when Ojirou pins him to the ground at the end.

It shouldn’t be weird because he was trying to do the same to him—that’s how spars typically work. This time feels different. Ojirou has one arm underneath Hanta’s head, knees stapling his legs down. Their chests are pressed together so closely Hanta can feel every breath, every heartbeat. He didn’t hold back in taking him down, but Ojirou was careful to avoid putting too much pressure on his dispensers

Ojirou smells faintly of sweat, and with how close they are, some of that sweat trickles onto him.

Hanta can’t quite put his finger on it, but he is more out of breath than usual, more flustered, but he’s not embarrassed. He finds it hard to be embarrassed around Ojirou when he’s so considerate.

The way Ojirou smiles victoriously and pants above him does something to Hanta’s heart, as the mere sight makes it beat in his chest, screaming for him to run. Whether it wants him to run towards Ojirou or away, he’s not certain.

They stay like that for a moment, Ojirou over Hanta, each of them catching their breath. Then Ojirou pushes himself off the ground and offers a hand to Hanta and hefts him up. “You’ve gotten better!” he praises. “You need to work on your core and stance, but you’re really flexible and you have a lot of arm strength. You almost had me.”

At Hanta’s deadpan stare, Ojirou sighs. “Okay, not entirely, but you were a lot closer. And remember: I have years of training, you don’t. You can’t compare your hand-to-hand to mine.”

Somehow, Ojirou always knows what to say.

“Thanks, man!” Hanta wipes his sweaty palms on his shorts. “I’ve learned a lot from watching you, actually.”

“Really?”

Hanta nods. “Yeah! I love watching you fight in class—you’re so fluid and, like, majestic or something. You make fighting seem so natural, like it’s a part of you, and I think that’s pretty cool.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Ojirou chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “The fluidity comes with time, I’ve been doing martial arts for awhile.”

Hanta is about to make some kind of joke about just taking the compliment when Ojirou shakes out his hands and says, “So, a duo’s move? Any ideas?”

Now that he thinks about it, it’s clear Ojirou isn’t used to praise, or maybe he’s just not used to such frequent and awed praise, so Hanta doesn’t push.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Hanta says, “but I’ve noticed you use your tail for mobility a lot, so maybe we could practice propelling each other to gain speed? It’s not a great ultimate move, but it’s a good place to start. And it’ll be good to improve our reaction time.”

“Okay—you want to go first? I can launch you with my tail and you can use your tape to catch yourself and control your descent.”

“Sure!”

That’s all Ojirou needs to hear because the second Hanta’s done speaking, he’s swept off his feet. Ojirou’s tail wraps tightly around his waist and hefts him into the air like he weighs nothing.

Hanta’s hands instinctively latch onto the tail for stability, but Ojirou’s hold is secure.

Heat spreads through his face and chest, but before he has time to really think about how often that happens when he’s with Ojirou, he’s flung into the air.

It takes a moment for Hanta to reorient himself since he’s still kinda hung up on how weirdly nice it felt to be held by Ojirou’s tail, but he manages to get himself together before he plummets.

A rush of adrenaline shoots through him as he quickly surveys his surroundings, the air whipping his face as he careens through it.

He shoots tape around a pillar to his right and pulls himself in that direction, looping around it a couple times before landing pretty gracefully.

“Woah!” he cries, jogging back to Ojirou. “That was kinda fun! Heh, your tail launched me pretty far. It’s really strong.”

Ojirou almost seemed to preen under the praise to his tail, but it happened so fast Hanta isn’t sure he actually saw it. “Yeah, I’ve been working on strengthening it—it’s pretty durable now,” Ojirou replies, patting his tail. “Wanna go again? You reacted pretty quickly, but I bet we could get that time down even more.”

“You bet? Well, I bet that by the end of this I can get on the ground faster than you,” Hanta smirks.

Ojirou rolls his eyes. “Didn’t Iida-kun tell you to stop making bets?”

“I never use actual money, though,” Hanta whines dramatically, leaning against Ojirou’s (very muscular) arm. “He’s just bitter that he always loses.”

Ojirou snorts before he can stop himself then pushes Hanta off. “Fine. I win and you have to meet me for an early morning workout before school next week.”

Hanta is not a fan of early morning workouts, especially on weekdays. When he was training for the Yuuei entrance exam, his workout schedule was brutal and included lots of early mornings. Having to sit through lectures and boring worksheets in school afterwards was miserable.

But doing it with Ojirou it doesn’t sound that bad. Ojirou has a way of making annoying or difficult things fun. His calm presence and patience is definitely a part of it, but Hanta genuinely just loves being around Ojirou.

That doesn’t mean he wants to lose, though.

“That’s evil, dude,” he says. “I’ll take it, though. If I win, you have to help me study for the next math test.”

“You know, if you needed help studying you could’ve just asked,” Ojirou teases, flicking Hanta’s chin with his tail.

“Okay, then you have to take a bite of an orange with the peel on in front of Blasty!”

Ojirou groans. “And you call me evil. But fine, I’ll accept your bet. Now then—” Ojirou snakes his tail around one of Hanta’s ankles and lifts him upside down (and holy shit Ojirou is strong). “Safe travels!”

With that, Hanta is once more launched into the air, whooping as he somersaults. It takes longer for him to get to the ground this time, but he blames Ojirou’s surprise attack. Or, well, surprise upside down attack.

It’s fine, though, because then Hanta gets to chuck Ojirou into the air a few times, which is surprisingly therapeutic and also a great way to help increase his arm strength and practice moving heavier things (because, hot damn, Ojirou’s muscle mass is impressive).

Although it ends up being one of the most strenuous yet helpful workout sessions Hanta’s ever had, it was also a lot of fun to just hang out with Ojirou, and he really wants to do it again.

(which ends up working out since Ojirou won the bet by one second)

— —

Hanta and Ojirou sit under a tree on campus together after finding out Hanta did indeed fail the practical exam.

It’s… processing is hard. He knew it was a possibility since he was asleep most of the exam, but it still stings. It’s still embarrassing. He wishes he earned his failure—sleeping just sounds pathetic.

He tells Ojirou the details about what happened, not quite ready to go home and face the music yet.

And Ojirou is mad.

“This is ridiculous!” he spits, fists clenched. “You should’ve passed the exam! You’re the only reason Mineta made it out, and by that logic, you should’ve passed with him! It’s not like you did nothing!”

The whole situation is a bit of a blow to Hanta’s self-esteem, but he thinks he’s handling it well. He did get taken out by Midnight, after all. It’s embarrassing and maybe reinforced some, uh, negative thoughts, but he can accept his failure.

Not Ojirou, though.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Hanta shrugs, though a part of him, a weird, confusing part, feels almost pleased that Ojirou is so upset for him. He can’t quite explain it, but it’s good to know there’s someone on his side. “I got off better than Kami and Mina—they were set up to fail. At least I had a chance.”

His friends are devastated. Kirishima and Satou, too. Everyone’s worked so hard the past few months, so failing the practical exam feels like failing as a hero, like they’re letting the entire class down. He’s embarrassed, yeah, but at least he wasn’t humiliated like Kaminari and Mina.

“I can’t just let it go,” Ojirou hisses. “If heroes care so much about honor and integrity, then either you both should’ve passed or you both should’ve failed. Mineta wouldn’t have passed if you didn’t give him your tape and protect him. All he did was throw his balls around and get lucky!”

Hanta snorts but tries to cover it up with a cough. “Look, I don’t like the creep, either, but I think he had some sort of plan. You can’t discredit him completely.”

It hurts to say, but it’s true. Backing Mineta up is never fun, but maybe if he was better, if he just tried harder or thought harder or something then he could’ve passed, too. But if he let Midnight get Mineta, then it would’ve felt like a loss either way because he sacrificed his partner to get there.

Ojirou inhales and exhales slowly a couple of times. Hanta watches his chest rise and fall with unease. It’s weird to see Ojirou all riled up when he’s usually one of the most level-headed in class.

“Sorry,” he says, opening his eyes. Hanta is quick to divert his gaze. “Sorry. I just know how hard you worked and how much you practiced, and it doesn’t seem fair.”

It doesn’t, but life isn’t fair, as has been proven time and time again.

But it is nice to have someone angry for him, someone who will fight for him—someone who cares so much.

“Well, at least you made it!” Hanta redirects, clapping Ojirou on the back. “You earned that win!”

Ojirou huffs. “I guess. I was just looking forward to spending time with you at training camp and now you have to go through remedial hell.”

Oh.

Oh.

Ojirou wants to spend time with him.

It’s weird, in a way, having someone care so much. Hanta had friends back in grade school, but he was never the first choice or the one kids went out of their way to hang out with.

He has that now with everyone in class, but his heart beats a little faster when it’s Ojirou who wants to spend time with him.

“Hey,” Hanta says, grabbing one of Ojirou’s hand, “I promise we’ll get to hang out. I don’t know when, but I will make time for you.” He swallows, just now processing that he’s now holding Ojirou’s hand. Hopefully he’s not too sweaty. “You’re my best friend, dude. I wanna spend time with you, too.”

Ojirou stares at him, eyes wide. For a second, Hanta thinks that maybe the hand holding was too much, but then Ojirou’s tightens around his. “You’re mine, too.”

He seems more relaxed, but Hanta can still see the tenseness in Ojirou’s shoulders. “You wanna go practice our big move?” he asks. “The gym is open for a couple more hours, and I don’t have anywhere to be. You can let off some steam, maybe kick my ass in sparring.”

“That sounds great, actually, but don’t discredit yourself, remember? You’ve kicked my ass plenty of times,” Ojirou chuckles, letting go of Hanta’s hand in order to ruffle his hair.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, I’ll race you there—no quirks!” Hanta takes off before he finishes speaking, turning around to stick his tongue out at Ojirou.

— —

Moving into the dorms is probably the best thing that’s ever happened to Hanta.

Okay, he’s not thrilled about why the school implemented the dorms, but now he gets to live with his best friends! Plus, it doesn’t take as long to get to campus, Kirishima managed to get Bakugou to cook for the class a couple days a week, and, best of all, he can’t hear his parents fighting at the dorms.

Or… no, that’s not the best thing about the dorms. No, it’s probably that Hanta can hang out with Ojirou whenever he wants.

Since they live together and on campus, they don’t have to limit their training to once or twice a week, and they don’t have to limit the time spent together to training, either.

After the room tours, Hanta helps Ojirou spruce his room up a bit. He’s always been interested in interior design, so Hanta has leftover room decor in boxes that he doesn’t mind giving to Ojirou: some candles, throw pillows, and wall hangings.

They end up watching a movie once they finish decorating, lying together on one of the blankets Hanta gave him.

As a ‘thank you’ for the help, Ojirou lets Hanta pick the movie, so they end up watching some new romantic drama that Hanta thinks might be funny. And it is funny, but Hanta has trouble actually paying attention to the movie once he realizes how close he and Ojirou are. They’re so close that their shoulders are touching.

Ojirou’s shoulder is a familiar, comforting warmth, the kind that makes Hanta all fuzzy and happy.

Without thinking, he leans further into Ojirou’s shoulder. It lightly rumbles beneath him as Ojirou chuckles. Then, his tail lands in Hanta’s hands, and he mindlessly runs his fingers through the tuft of fur.

They’re on the second movie (Ojirou’s choice this time) when Hanta wonders when this—the domestic interactions, the touching, the wordless communication—became second nature to them.

He doesn’t think about it too hard, not even when they end up on their backs, slowly falling asleep on the floor beside each other.

No, he’s just happy—content.

— —

They just got out of the shower after (another) morning workout that Ojirou duped him into when Ojirou says it.

“You have a nice smile.”

(“Why are your teeth so big?”

It’s an innocent question, but it replays through Hanta’s mind for hours. He stares at his reflection, studying his teeth with an intensity he didn’t know he possessed. They are pretty big, aren’t they?

“Yeah, that has nothing to do with your quirk!”

He tries not to let it get to him—he doesn’t even have it that bad compared to other kids in class. Besides, they aren’t bullying him. Kids just say stupid things sometimes.

“Your smile is kinda creepy, dude, especially in the dark.”

It doesn’t take long for Hanta to switch to close-lipped smiles. It’s hard, though, when smiling seems to come so naturally to him.

“You look like one of those creepy clowns when you smile. It’s weird.”)

Hanta stiffens for a second as he wipes his sweaty face with a towel. A nice smile? Does Ojirou need glasses? His teeth are weirdly straight and disconcertingly white, his smile takes up, like, half his face.

It’s not “nice”, he’s never thought of it as nice. But something about the pink blush on Ojirou’s cheeks and the sincerity in his eyes makes Hanta want to think it is.

Thank you, he wants to say.

Your smile is nice, too, he thinks.

I want to kiss you.

The towel drops to the floor. Hanta laughs sheepishly, bending down to pick it up. He tries to control his breathing, but it’s difficult after that revelation.

He wants to kiss Ojirou? Where did that come from? Well, Ojirou is, objectively, handsome. He’s honorable, kind, and he’s really funny, but most people don’t know that since he’s so quiet. And, well, Hanta is happiest when he’s with Ojirou.

“Sero-kun?”

Hanta jumps. Shit, he got lost in his thoughts.

“O-Oh,” he stammers, fidgeting with a piece of his tape, “uh, thanks, dude. I get it from my mom—she has a beaver-ish quirk, so I get the large teeth from her.”

Ojirou frowns. “It’s still your smile. And I like it either way. It’s unique.”

The silence that falls between them is thick with… not tension. Hanta isn’t sure what it is, but it’s eating him from the inside out.

His eyes rakes over Ojirou’s body, taking in how tight his gym uniform is, especially around the arms. His sweat seems to glisten, which should be weird and gross but it isn’t. The blush on his cheeks is cute—like really cute. It does terrible things to Hanta’s heart, and he has to quickly avert his gaze so he doesn’t do something stupid like kiss Ojirou.

“Thank you,” he whispers because that’s all he can say without getting all emotional over something as normal as a smile. “I—you, too.”

— —

“Sho’, I’ve got a problem.”

Hanta barges into Shouto’s room. He collapses onto his futon, legs kicking his desk chair until Shouto gives him the attention he wants.

Shouto turns around, glances at Hanta on the floor, and sighs. He stands up, shoves Hanta’s feet aside, and sits down beside him. “I can see. Would you like to hold hands?”

Since Shouto is still hesitant regarding physical touch, they’ve taken to holding hands as a way of comforting each other. Physical touch is grounding for Hanta, and it helps Shouto get more accustomed to casual touch.

Hanta nods pathetically, so Shouto sighs once more and sits beside him, grabbing the closest hand and weaving their fingers together.

“Would you like to talk about it or quietly read manga?”

“Talk, maybe,” Hanta mumbles, pushing himself up onto his forearms. “I need to sort through my emotions before I even come close to figuring out what the hell I’m feeling.

In lieu of a response, Shouto squeezes his hand tighter.

Every once in awhile, Hanta and Shouto (and Satou, on occasion) meet in each other’s rooms and just talk. It’s an interesting dynamic, one Hanta never would’ve expected, but they have a lot more in common than they thought, and they each found the other’s presence calming.

Shouto has proven to be one of Hanta’s best friends the past month. He knows all about the Todoroki family drama, and, in turn, Shouto knows about all the Sero family drama. Hanta likes to call them the “parents should be divorced brotherrrrrrrrrs”, and that dash of humor makes it easier to laugh through the pain.

Getting Shouto to open up was easier than expected, and by that, Hanta means that, sometimes, Shouto says the most out of pocket, concerning things with no regard to just how concerning they are.

But the Todoroki family is a shit show, so it isn’t all that surprising that Shouto has no concept of normal family things.

Although Hanta is happiest around Ojirou and has the most fun with his close friend group, he considers Shouto his rock; a steady presence in hard times. He holds his friendship with Shouto close to his heart, and he knows Shouto does, too. It was Shouto who told him to use his first name, after all.

(“You know all about Touya-nii, you can call me ‘Shouto’.”

“Then you can call me ‘Hanta’, ‘kay?”)

So, with Shouto’s hand in his, Hanta bites the bullet: “I think I have a crush on Ojirou-kun.”

Shouto nods thoughtfully. “As I suspected.”

“What?” Hanta sits up. “I just figured it out! How did you know?”

“The eyes.” Shouto offers him a small smile. “You look at him like he’s an orange.”

“Sho’, you simply must elaborate.”

A flick to the forehead shuts Hanta up. “Oranges make you happy,” Shouto explains with a roll of his eyes, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “When you eat oranges, your eyes light up and you look all gooey. That’s how you look at Ojirou-kun.” Shouto pauses, looking him up and down. “Ojirou-kun makes you happy.”

Okay, so maybe he’s been spending too much time with Shouto lately because he cannot be that easy to read.

But, he can’t deny that Shouto is right. “Yeah, he does. He’s really nice, you know. And strong. And smart. He did push ups with me on his back once, Sho’. It was so hot. And he can pick me up and throw me around with his tail. I almost crash landed the first time he did that. His tail is so soft and strong—oh my god, how am I just realizing this!”

“There, there,” says Shouto, using his free hand to pat Hanta’s head. “If it makes you feel any better, Ojirou-kun has a crush on you, too.”

Hanta snorts. “Yeah, okay.”

“Do you not believe me?”

“Sho’, I know we’re besties and all, but Ojirou-kun is way out of my league.”

Shouto blinks slowly. “How?”

“Listen!” Hanta lets go of Shouto's hand. “He’s so much stronger than me and he’s eighth in class and he’s so talented! Plus, have you seen him? He’s so hot it’s unfair!”

“All of that applies to you, though. Except being eighth in class, but if your point is that he’s smart, you are, too,” Shouto points out, cocking his head to the side. “My standards of beauty may not be the same as yours, but I think you’re hot.”

That makes Hanta laugh—not in a disbelieving way! Shouto calling him hot is just really funny. And kind. Who would’ve thought that the Todoroki Shouto would end up being Hanta’s biggest hype man? Well, after Kirishima—no one is better at hyping people up than Kirishima, but that’s beside the point.

“Thanks, Sho’,” Hanta says, giving Shouto an obnoxious smooch on the cheek. “I just don’t know where to go from here. I want to believe he likes me back, it’s just… not that easy. I mean, he’s him and I’m just me. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit,” Shouto replies after a minute. “The kids from junior high aren’t here—you are. We are. And no one in class thinks you’re boring or that you got lucky. You deserve to be here. Ojirou-kun said your quirk is powerful, and he doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.”

“Heh, can’t believe you remember that.”

“It’s hard to forget when you’ve heard the story five times,” Shouto says, but there’s no malice or annoyance behind it. “You talk about him a lot. That’s what soldified my suspicions.”

“Really, because I thought it was me looking at him like he’s an orange,” Hanta teases.

Shouto shakes his head. “No, I saw that before the dorms. You’ve been pining for awhile.”

Hanta groans and shoves his face in Shouto’s knee. He contemplates licking it, just to be an ass, but chooses not to since apparently Shouto has been dealing with his oblivious pining ass for who knows how long.

“Anyway,” Shouto continues as if he didn’t just drop a mini bomb on Hanta, “Ojirou-kun isn’t wrong: your quirk is powerful. But all quirks are powerful based on how it’s used. You make it powerful. I once heard Bakugou-kun yell at Kirishima-kun to ‘stop being a self-deprecating bastard’, and I think that applies here, too.”

Man, if Hanta wasn’t hopelessly besotted with Ojirou, he would be drooling over Shouto. Handsome and kind? Oof, whoever ends up with him better appreciate him because he is a catch.

“You’re a good friend, you know?” Hanta says, voice muffled by Shouto’s knee. He prays that Shouto either doesn’t hear or ignores how choked up he sounds.

“So are you,” Shouto replies, resting his hand atop of Hanta’s head. He doesn’t run his fingers through his hair or pat him or anything, it just lies there like a weighted blanket. “So, Hagakure-chan informed me about a thing called ‘shovel talks’. I think, as your best friend, I should be the first to threaten Ojirou-kun. At least before Bakugou-kun.”

Nevermind, Shouto is the worst.

Hanta bites his knee.

— —

Talking to Shouto helped a ton, and now that Hanta is extremely aware of his romantic feelings and trusts that Shouto won’t tell a soul or make fun of him too hard, it opens the door for Hanta to direct all his pitiful pining towards him.

And thank god for that because Hanta and Ojirou now train together after school at least three days a week.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust his other friends, although he’s pretty sure most of them have picked up on some kind of feelings by now, or Mina has, at least, but talking about it to more people is kind of overwhelming. His friends are so kind and enthusiastic, but enthusiasm isn’t what he needs right now.

No, what he needs is someone who’ll respond to his keyboard smashes over how cute Ojirou is with a thumbs up emoji.

“He caught me, Sho’,” Hanta basically cries into Shouto’s lap one day. “He caught me! And held me!”

“Yes,” Shouto nods, hand on Hanta’s head, “that’s typically what happens when you catch someone.”

Hanta groans. “No, you don’t get it! I could feel his six pack! And he was cradling me in his arms! His arms! They’re so strong and hot!”

“Ah, yes. How could I forget how attractive Ojirou-kun’s arms are.”

All in all, Shouto is a good sport who listens intently and continuously to convince him that Ojirou likes him back. Hanta still doesn’t believe it or doesn’t want to let himself believe it because what if Shouto is wrong and he ruins the best relationship he’s ever had? So, his heart screams when they workout and train, beating so hard it hurts sometimes.

But he grits his teeth and gets through it because he wouldn’t trade what they have for anything (except maybe a relationship… ugh, he’s down bad).

Hanta is stretching in Yuuei’s gym early evening, waiting for Ojirou to arrive (he’s running a bit behind since he’s been tutoring Hagakure after school) when Ojirou bursts through the doors, beaming, and shouts, “I’ve got it!”

“Got what?” Hanta asks, jogging to meet Ojirou by the entrance.

“An idea for an ultimate move!” Ojirou bounces on the balls of his feet, tail wagging behind him.

And, oh, that sight is terrible for Hanta’s heart. It’s so cute Hanta could write poetry about it. Yeesh, maybe he’s spending too much time with Kaminari and Tokoyami.

“I was telling Hagakure-chan about our training,” Ojirou explains, “and about how we’ve been launching each other, and it came to me: what if we do something where we’re connected with your tape and use that to continue to propel each other forward?”

It’s genius. It’s easy to forget that Ojirou is eighth in class since he isn’t in the top five and goes to all of Yaomomo’s study sessions, but he’s tactically brilliant and creative—he has to be with his quirk since it’s not inherently offensive.

“That’s sick!” Hanta cries, shooting tape out of his elbow to drag Ojirou into a side hug. “It’s so simple but we could do really cool stuff with it once we get it down!”

“Yup!” Ojirou nods, ruffling Hanta’s hair. “We could add midair tricks and have different attacks! I even thought of a name for it!”

Ojirou’s enthusiasm is adorable. He’s usually pretty chill or contains his excitement, so it’s always special seeing him let it free.

“What’re you thinking?”

“Brachiation!” Ojirou says, letting go of Hanta to gesture with his hands. “You know, like arm swinging! Spider monkeys are brachiators and you are, too, so it’s like a combination of us!”

Hanta loves it. He loves the name and Ojirou. So he says as much, well, not the second part. That can stay hidden for awhile.

“It’s perfect!” You’re wonderful. “How should we go about this?”

“I think it’d be best to start by figuring out where we want to be connected,” Ojirou suggests. “We could go for waist, arm, leg, my tail…”

“You know, we could disconnect and reconnect midair, too!” Hanta says. “That way we aren’t totally stuck. And practicing separating would be good, too, in case something comes up where we need to quickly detach.”

Ojirou nods. “That’s a good idea! You want to start by trying different attachments and seeing how they work out?”

“Sounds great, dude!”

They practice well into the night, only stopping when they get a call from Iida telling them they’re about to miss curfew. They learned that, although wrapping tape around Ojirou’s chest is the most stable, it’s the hardest to maneuver around in. Using their biceps and shoulders worked pretty well, and they figured attaching at the leg would be better for a boost or a shift. Wrapping tape around Ojirou’s tail ended in disaster since Ojirou uses his tail a lot while fighting.

They also worked out how to get off the ground to start and how to keep their momentum going, so all in all, it was a pretty successful night! They didn’t get around to doing anything cool or switching positions midair, but they aren’t in any time crunch.

Besides, Hanta had so much fun that he’s glad they didn’t finish—it just means they need to meet up more.

And they did.

The number of times they practiced per week increased until they were working together nearly every day.

Sometimes they ended up playing around, like a smaller, less serious version of tag. That’s how Hanta got caught up in his tape. He’s still not entirely sure how it happened, but they both stopped the game to laugh and forgot to take the tape off. Then Ojirou was curious how wrapping tape around Hanta’s fist would affect a punch, and while Ojirou was demonstrating what he was thinking, his tail got tangled up in some of the stray tape dragging behind Hanta and they ended up in a heap on the ground.

That’s when Hanta came to the conclusion that Ojirou’s laughter is the best sound in the world. It’s soft—quiet, even—but there’s genuine joy infused in it that’s contagious. Plus, when he laughs, Ojirou’s eyes scrunch shut and it’s really cute.

As time went on, they decided to call the general, basic move ‘Brachiation’, but created more specific moves that fall under it. So if they don’t have an exact plan but want to throw each others using their quirks, that’s ‘Brachiation’

One of their special moves has Hanta wrap tape around Ojirou’s waist once they’re in the air and spin him around until he finds some surface to kick off of. Then, Ojirou grabs the tape and uses it to whirl Hanta in circles. It took a few weeks, but they managed to go back and forth like that for five minutes straight—continuously spinning each other in circles. They call it ‘Troop’ since that’s what a group of spider monkeys are called.

They come up with a few others: ‘Spider’s Silk’, ‘Play Time’, ‘Branch to Branch’, and their most complex one yet, ‘Black Widow’.

It’s a great mobile and flexible defense, but it’s difficult and strenuous. Hanta’s arms are so sore he can barely lift them the first few times they try it. But most of all, it’s rewarding.

Weeks— months— are spent creating, planning, practicing, failing, and, eventually, making it as smooth and fluid as they can without having an opponent to try it on.

‘Black Widow’ is nowhere near perfect, but it feels good, putting hard work into something with a friend and seeing it pay off.

“We did it,” Hanta pants from where he’s lying on the gym floor after their first successful run through. Ojirou is lying beside him, breathing just as hard. Sweat coats Hanta’s skin. It’s slimy and soaking through his clothes and he probably smells like shit, but he can’t bring himself to care. “Holy shit—we did it.”

“Yeah,” Ojirou sighs, exhaustion dripping from his voice. “My body hates me but I’m so happy that I don’t mind.” Ojirou shifts onto his side so he’s facing Hanta. “You’re amazing, Sero-kun.”

His heart flutters rapidly in his chest at his words, but it tightens and squeezes when Hanta meets his eyes.

Despite how awful Hanta must look, despite how sweaty and smelly he is, Ojirou is looking at Hanta like he’s something special. Not something to be admired or something perfect, but as if his existence means something. He feels seen, appreciated, and loved all at once. It’s so overwhelming Hanta can barely think or breathe.

Is this what Shouto means when he says Hanta looks at Ojirou like he’s an orange? Is this how Hanta looks at Ojirou?

“You are, too,” Hanta says softly, reaching out to swipe a sweaty strand of hair off Ojirou’s forehead.

His skin is hot, and as his fingers brush Ojirou’s forehead, it’s almost like Hanta can feel his heartbeat which makes no sense and is so weird, but he feels it. Something, at least. Something strong, resilient—something important.

He doesn’t realize he started leaning in until another wave of Hanta’s own stench hits him, and he gags. If he doesn’t fix this soon, he’ll resort to snorting candles—he hates the smell of sweat.

“I need a shower,” he groans, forcing himself to his feet. “And maybe to lie down forever—I’m so sore, oh my god.”

He helps Ojirou up and his breath catches in his throat when their hands intertwine. It’s only after they let go that he can breathe again. But the feeling of Ojirou’s hand in his lingers; it’s like a tingling, almost.

“Same here,” Ojirou agrees. “But that’s how you know it was a good workout. Come on, let’s head back before Iida-kun calls again.”

The walk back is silent aside from their panting. The cool evening breeze settles Hanta’s stomach, but it doesn’t settle his nerves.

It hits him as their dorm comes into view: he almost kissed Ojirou. And he would have if not for Hanta’s distaste for certain smells. Or maybe he just didn’t want to smell like shit in front of Ojirou.

Either way, he almost kissed him, and he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

As he lies in bed that night, freshly showered and coated in a fruity lotion, Hanta realizes that his crush… it’s not evolving, exactly, but talking to Shouto about it isn’t enough to sate it. He needs to do something about it soon, but his eyes are drooping shut as he thinks.

He dreams about holding Ojirou in his arms, of being held by him in return.

— —

Sleepovers become a regular occurrence between them. They’re usually in Hanta’s room since it’s cozier (according to Ojirou!) and there are more places for people to sit. It’s usually just the two of them, but sometimes Shouto or Satou join. Hagakure, Kaminari, Kirishima, and Mina have all made the occasional appearance.

Tonight, it’s just the two of them.

They spent the beginning of the evening reminiscing on the year so far, laughing fondly at memories of their classmates doing stupid things and groaning whenever something embarrassing comes up.

Ojirou mentions the attack at the USJ—their first time being attacked, ah, sweet memories—when a familiar feeling of awe and wonderment returns, and along with that the moment Hanta saw Ojirou for the first time.

As Ojirou moves onto talk about a joke Hagakure made about the incident—her way of coping—Hanta zones out. Just a little bit and only because he realizes that no one ever acknowledged how well Ojirou held his own. No one, not even their teachers blinked an eye.

And, okay, maybe that’s not fair since Aizawa almost died, but still.

And as Ojirou keeps the conversation going (because at this point Hanta is so lost in his thoughts he can barely hear Ojirou), his chest burns. He can’t place all the blame on the teachers, their classmates: he never acknowledged Ojirou either.

That doesn’t settle well with him.

“You know,” Hanta begins once a natural lull falls in the (kinda one-sided) conversation, “I’ve never really told you when I realized how powerful you are.”

It’s the weekend after a long, grueling week of training and homework, so Hanta and Ojirou are chilling in Hanta’s room. As per usual, Hanta swings in his hammock while Ojirou lies on his bed, his tail swaying in the air.

“What do you mean?”

“After the USJ, you mentioned that you were on your own the whole time in the fire zone, and no one batted an eye. I couldn’t stop thinking about how cool you were and how I wish I had half the bravery and grit you do,” Hanta explains. “You said it so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal but it is! Well, it is to me, at least.”

Hanta sighs and glares at his ceiling. “It’s like you said at the sports festival: people without flashy quirks only get credited for their failures, not their successes. I know there was a lot going on, but you fought and held your own and I just…”

I like you a lot.

I admire you.

I need you to know how incredible you are because you don’t believe it but you are—you are amazing.

“You’re gonna go far, one day,” Hanta decides on saying. “You’re gonna save so many people and inspire so many kids.”

Damn, Hanta wouldn’t call himself an emotional person by any means, but tears start weling up in his eyes. They aren’t sad or angry tears, though. They’re loving, passionate.

Ojirou doesn’t respond for awhile. It’s a bit nerve-wracking, but Hanta can’t fault him for needing a moment.

When he does speak, it’s not to give the usual ‘thank you’. “Hey, Sero-kun?” Ojirou asks cautiously, sniffing.

“Yeah?”

“You wanna come give me a hug?”

Hanta doesn’t bother responding. He slips out of the hammock without thought and all but tackles Ojirou, lying half on top of him with their legs intertwined.

Ojirou laughs softly, steadying Hanta by wrapping an arm around his back. He nudges Hanta’s shoulder with his tail, so Hanta opens his arms up and holds it, nuzzling his face in the tuft of fur.

“You’re my best friend, you know,” Ojirou whispers once they’re settled. “Thank you for noticing me.”

“Always,” Hanta promises, and he means it.

— —

“Today,” All Might begins one afternoon, “we’re doing duo quirk battles!”

Hanta perks up and meets Ojirou’s eyes across the crowd. There’s no way they’ll get to choose their own partners, but maybe, just maybe luck will fall on his side.

“I’ll draw names for pairs, and you and your partner will fight against another duo. The goal is to incapacitate your opponents using capture tape or any other form of bindings, such as trapping them in ice. We’ll be using the cityscape instead of the ring. Your only objective is to capture the other team. Any questions?”

It’s a basic exercise so no one raises their hand. All Might takes that as his sign to continue. “Alright! Our first groups are Deku and Flare versus Anima and Creati! You four, come with me! The rest of you can head to the watch room. You’ll find our your pairings shortly before you start so you have to think quickly.”

Ojirou pats Hagakure on the back for luck as she and the others in round one follow All Might to the arena.

The rest of class makes their way to the watch room, chatting amongst themselves about who they think will win. Hanta sits beside his friends group, but beckons for Ojirou to join them. Bakugou huffs a bit, but doesn’t cause a fuss once the match starts.

“Who’re you betting on?” Hanta whispers to Ojirou as Yaomomo and Kouda get on the defensive in preparation for the imminent sneak attack.

“I think Hagakure-chan would slit my throat if I didn’t unconditionally believe in her victory,” Ojirou replies. “But, without the threat of death, I’d still bet on her and Midoriya-kun.”

“Okay—what do ya say we make this an actual bet?” Hanta suggests, wiggling his brows. “If team Kouda-kun and Yaomomo win, you buy me dinner. If team Hagakure-chan and Midoriya-kun win, I buy you dinner.”

“Deal.”

The fight is a close one—Momo and Kouda get so close to winning, but then Hagakure body slams Momo, which leads to her inevitable capture and opens Midoriya up to taking care of Kouda.

And now Hanta owes Ojirou dinner (and he tries not to think too hard about how date-like that sounds).

“Round two is Chargebolt and Tentacole versus Pinky and Tsukuyomi!”

It’s another close fight, but Kaminari and Shouji just barely pull out the win.

“Round three is Cellophane and Spider Monkey versus Dynamight and Shouto!”

Hanta’s elation is short-lived when he hears that they’re fighting the two power houses of class 1-a.

Bakugou smirks at him as he gets to his feet, dragging his finger along his throat. “I’ll kill you, you damn bastards!” he yells.

Shouto taps him. “I think you mean we’ll kill you,” he corrects.

“I’ll kill you, too, you Icyhot bitch!”

Shouto mouthes, good luck as he expertly dodges an explosion. Hanta nods at him in return.

As they walk to the arena, Ojirou grabs his shoulder and whispers into his ear: “Do you want to try ‘Black Widow’?”

Hanta bites his lip, wearily eyeing Bakugou and Todoroki. “We haven’t fully perfected it yet,” he responds, “and they’re both really smart so they may be able to avoid it, but they’re going to be hard to beat. I’m down to try.”

“Hey,” Ojirou’s grip on his shoulder tightens. “We got this. We may not win, but let’s show them what we’re capable of.”

Each duo had five minutes to come up with a plan and get situated. Since they already decided on ‘Black Widow’, Hanta and Ojirou used that time to split up and scout the area. Hanta uses his tape to get to the top of a building and see the whole picture.

“Hey, Spider Monkey,” Hanta says into the radio. “Turn left at the next street—it has few buildings and some trees. There’s a statue next to one of the buildings that could make a good starting point. It might be best to lead them there.”

“Heading that way, Cellophane.”

There’s silence for a few moments as Ojirou jogs in that direction. “Nice scouting—there are some cars here, too, and it’s pretty narrow.”

“Perfect. Meet me where we split off?”

“Be there in a minute.”

Hanta lowers himself to the ground and waits for Ojirou to return. God, his hands are shaking whether it’s excitement or nervousness, he’s not sure. He takes a few deep breaths.

It’s just an exercise. There are no actual stakes. He’s proved himself worthy of the hero course or else he wouldn’t still be in it. He has nothing to worry about.

And yet…

And yet he wants to prove himself even more. He wants to prove to everyone that a flashy quirk isn’t everything. Or maybe he needs to prove it to himself. His friends think he’s capable—he knows they do—and Bakugou has stopped making shitty comments about everyone’s quirks and, well, he didn’t apologize, but he told Hanta that his, “stupid quirk isn’t that stupid or whatever” and then shoved a plate of homemade sushi in his face and stomped away. That’s basically an apology coming from Bakugou.

No, he isn’t trying to prove anything to his classmates, and it’s not about his old classmates either. He definitely wants to win for himself, but his biggest motivator is Ojirou. He wants Ojirou to feel valued, wants people to see how amazing he is—wants Ojirou to realize how amazing he is.

His spiral is cut off by Ojirou returning to his side.

“Alright—how do we want to lead them there? They’re too smart to fall for obvious bait,” Ojirou says.

Hanta hums. “Yeah, they’d see through us in an instant. Maybe we can let them think they’re winning? If we play our cards right, we could make them think they’re backing us into a corner. They’re both pretty offensive fighters, so they aren’t going to wait around for us to find them. I’m sure they’ll be after us as soon as we start.”

“That might be our best bet,” Ojirou agrees. “Let’s get closer to that street so it doesn’t seem like we’re leading them.”

By the time they get to the ha;fway point between their starting area and their end goal, the buzzer blares, signaling the start of the match.

A loud blast bursts in the air before the buzzer finishes. Hanta and Ojirou immediately get on the defensive, standing back-to-back, eyes zooming from the ground to the sky. Bakugou is a wild card—he could come from anywhere.

A bright, familiar glint catches Hanta’s eye. “Shouto’s on your right,” he whispers. “Using ice. Jump and split in three, two—now!”

Just as Hanta predicted, ice shoots at them, but they managed to jump out of the way in time.

“Cellophane, head to a balcony. We need higher ground.” Ojirou’s voice crackles in his ear, and Hanta moves without thinking.

Bakugou barrels toward him, fist drawn back and an excited snarl on his face. Hanta manages to wrap tape around a light pole and redirect himself across the street, barely missing the explosion. Luckily, that move brought Hanta closer to their designated area.

He takes a second to search for Ojirou and finds him flipping and dancing around Shouto’s attacks. He’s close, too.

“Ya running away like a coward, ya plain-faced bastard?” Bakugou screams, blasting in his direction.

“Maybe a little bit,” Hanta mutters, eyeing Bakugou’s gauntlets. If he times this right, he could get to the perch faster than he anticipated. Hanta takes another deep breath and swings around the pole, releasing his tape at the same time as Bakugou’s explosion.

The power behind the blast propels Hanta further, making his landing on the statue look more accidental. Perfect.

“I’m at the statue, Spider Monkey,” Hanta says into the radio. He begins cutting off strips of tape and sticking them to the statue.

Ojirou is close—ricocheting off buildings as he dodges attacks. “I see you. You think I’m close enough to grab?”

“Yeah, you should be. Ready yourself.”

Hanta aims his elbows toward Ojirou and snags him around the waist. He sends him toward the side of a building and Ojirou gets his feet behind him and pushes off the building towards the statue.

Once Ojirou is flying in his direction, Hanta attaches tape to another light pole and situates himself on top.

Hanta covers Ojirou by intercepting Bakugou midair with tape and sending him flying at Shouto. They’re too busy smacking the side of a building to notice Ojirou sticking the five additional tape strands to himself.

Bakugou pushes the rubble aside with a snarl, yanking Shouto to his feet. Shouto sends a spike of ice at Hanta, but it’s too late. Ojirou grabs ahold of the tape connecting them and spins Hanta back into the air.

The ice ends up piercing the light pole as Hanta lands even higher up on a window sill.

While Hanta soars, he lifts Ojirou and directs him toward a car. He tugs on the tape, not hard enough to break it, but using enough force for Ojirou to get the signal. Ojirou leaves one end of a strand on the car.

It’s difficult, flinging Ojirou around, sending vibrations through the tape to signal to him, and holding back their opponents.

Shouto manages to disrupt their plans by freezing Ojirou to a tree, but luckily Hanta is able to shatter the ice wrapping tape around Bakugou and crashing him into the tree.

It takes them a second to get back into motion, but they’re almost done.

Ojirou uses Bakugou’s crash as a way to stealthily looping an extra strand around one of his gauntlets.

Hanta jumps off the balcony to avoid a stream of fire and uses his tape to get to another balcony across the street.

One more strands to go—

Hanta spins Ojirou around until he lands back at the statue which he wounds the last piece of tape around.

And the trap is set.

Hanta drops down the side of the building like a spider descending on its prey, and solidifies Bakugou’s fate by aiming his tape at Bakugou’s tapeless gauntlet. He encases it, then tugs just enough to push Bakugou just above the ground and into the tree Ojirou marked.

There he dangles like a fly trapped in a web. One arm is wrapped around a tree branch and the other is stuck to the tape-webbing midair.

“What the hell?” Bakugou cries, struggling to break the tape. But Hanta’s been working on making it more durable, and with both gauntlets covered in tape, well, Bakugou can’t break out in time.

Ojirou saunters up to Bakugou and pulls out the capture tape.

As much as Hanta wants to watch Bakugou’s defeat, he has a more pressing issue: Shouto.

Shouto glides on his ice towards his partner, but Hanta’s prepared for that. He shoots a strand of tape in front of Shouto as he zooms past which sticks to his head. Hanta uses the surprise factor and the recoil from the sudden stop to draw Shouto close enough to kick him into another section of their web while caccooning his upperbody.

A burst of fire manages to knock Hanta off balance, and with both his elbows being preoccupied, he can’t steady himself. He flies backwards and into a car so hard he dents it.

Hanta’s vision is blurry when he sits up. His back aches and his head stings, but his only concern is whether Shouto got captured by Ojirou or got himself free.

But then the buzzer blares once more, signaling the end of the match.

And since Hanta isn’t unconscious or caught in capture tape, that means Shouto is out.

Although there’s a bit of distance between the watch room and the cityscape, it’s not enough to hide how everyone loses their minds as All Might announces their win.

It’s amazing—Hanta is beyond elated and can’t wait to get swept up in a group hug, but despite how long he’s been wanting to hear everyone cheer for him, it’s nothing more than faint echoes to Hanta.

They won? They beat two of their most powerful, most skilled classmates in a quirk battle?

“We did it? Oh my god, we did it! Spider Monkey—Oji, we did it!” Hanta spins around to hug Ojirou or fist bump him or—something, he doesn’t know, but all thoughts of celebration fall short when he sees the sticky situation Ojirou is in.

In the heat of battle, Hanta completely forgot about his tape, and now, Ojirou is covered in it.

It’s adorable, actually, watching Ojirou struggle to break free of it, pouting in a dazed confusion all the while.

Hanta can’t help it—he bursts into laughter. It’s genuine, bent over, clutching his stomach kind of laughter, the kind that makes his sides ache.

It’s pure and utter joy.

Ojirou directs his pout at Hanta, but that only makes him laugh harder.

“Come on, help me out?” Ojirou whines, going to free Bakugou and gesturing for Hanta to help Shouto.

And maybe it’s the whine, maybe it’s the way Ojirou is smiling so widely that Hanta can’t help but lose his inhibition. Or maybe he’s just riding the high from their win.

Either way, Hanta blurts out, “You’re so cute.”

Ojirou freezes in the midst of tearing the tape around Bakugou’s gauntlets. “What?”

“I, uh, nothing!” Hanta says quickly, hurrying over to Shouto in order to hide his face because oh god, what was he thinking?

“He said that you’re cute,” Shouto supplies rather unhelpfully.

“Oh my god, can you at least let us go before you talk about your damn feelings?” Bakugou groans.

His prayers go unanswered as Ojirou steps away from him and closer to Hanta. “I know now isn’t the best time for this, but is Todoroki-kun right?”

Hanta bites his lip and glances at Shouto who mouths, you can do it. He steels himself and nods. “Yeah, he may be a terrible wingman, but he’s right. I—” Hanta cuts himself off, balling his hands into fists. He inhales slowly, then exhales, counting the beats that pass.

“And I mean it. I’ve thought so for awhile, actually.”

Ojirou’s cheeks turn red rather quickly, and although he tries to play it cool, his wagging tail gives him away. “I, uh, I thought you maybe—but I wasn’t sure until now and—Sero-kun, I like you, like in the ‘more than a friend’ way. And I have for months now.”

“Wait, really?” Hanta cries, eyes widening. “I like you, too! I only realized it after we moved into the dorms, though.”

They stare at each other for a moment, the awe in the air almost palpable. Hanta’s about to say something when Bakugou interrupts.

“Do this later, shitheads!”

“Shit, sorry, Sho’.” Hanta mutters, turning back to Shouto to finish undoing his binds. He fumbles more than usual, but he still sets Shouto free with practiced ease.

Once Bakugou is free, he slaps both him and Ojirou on the back of the head and grabs Shouto’s arm in order to drag him away. “Don’t talk here, two more groups need to go and you’re wasting time.”

(that’s Bakugou speak for, “I’m so happy for you and don’t want All Might to disrupt your romantic confession—get to walking so you can finish before you get back to the viewing room”)

Shouto salutes him as he allows Bakugou to pull him along.

“We should probably head back,” Ojirou says, scratching his knuckles. “Bakugou-kun does make a good point—I don’t want All Might to have to break up our confession.”

“Yeah, and our classmates. I know they can’t hear us, but Mina can sense romantic tension a block away and I can guarantee she’s eating this up.” Hanta starts the walk back and Ojirou quickly follows. “I did lose that bet earlier,” Hanta continues, heart hammering in his chest. “Do you maybe want to talk about this over dinner?”

“Like, as a date?” Ojirou asks, and it’s comforting to Hanta to see the nervousness on Ojirou’s face—he’s not the only one who’s scared.

“If you’re okay with that,” Hanta answers, holding a hand out to Ojirou.

And Ojirou smiles at him with both his mouth and eyes, and accepts his hand, weaving their fingers together. “Then it’s a date.”