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Aizawa Shōta hadn’t planned on making friends. Hell, he didn’t even think he wanted them, at first. Yet, here he was, sitting on a bench in the cafeteria with his head on the table, listening to a loud kid go on and on about re-designing his hero costume. Iida sat next to him, listening attentively and adding in an opinion every now and then, but Aizawa let his eyes drift closed as he listened. It had taken a while to get used to, but now he considered Yamada’s voice to be his favorite background noise. It could always calm him and relax him when the pressures of adjusting to the hero course were weighing him down.
He idly wondered why Yamada was even bringing up the argument of whether or not he should add more color to his costume, since it wasn’t like Yamada would really be able to tell the difference. Whoever Yamada’s soulmate was, they hadn’t confessed to him yet, which meant that he saw the world in grayscale. Aizawa did too, as did most of their class. It could take years to finally see the world in color, not that the Erasure hero-in-training cared to. Even if he could tell the difference between trivial colors like teal and magenta, he suspected he would prefer black anyway. Whatever color Yamada, AKA Present Mic, chose, he was sure to look good.
He would never admit it, but he was starting to feel strangely about his best friend. Sometimes Yamada would tease him, and he could feel his cheeks heat up in an awkward way. Sometimes he would hear the loud boy passionately babble about his dreams for the future and wish he had a more central role than best friend.
No, I can’t let my mind drift like this. He needed to focus. They had a special training exercise later, though the teachers were keeping quiet about what it was. Maybe by now he was good enough with his capture weapon to handle some of the trickier maneuvers he’d been practicing. Whether it was rescue or combat based, he had a good foundation to work off of. Hopefully, that would be enough for whatever chaos the UA staff would throw their way.
__________
It turned out to be a rescue mission, with half the class being victims of a building collapse while the other half acted as heroes arriving on the scene. Aizawa was in the hero group with Iida, and Yamada was put in the victim group. That was probably for the best, considering Yamada’s quirk. He was more likely to level a building than be able to lift the rubble. Aizawa used his capture weapon to propel him to the top of heaps of rubble, going in for classmates that others couldn’t reach quickly without a flight quirk. Off to his left, he heard a familiar voice call out to him.
“Hey, Eraserhead! Mind helping a pal out?” Yamada called from beneath what appeared to be a collapsed ceiling beam.
“Mic, if this wasn’t training, I would leave you for a while and come back after everyone else was out, but I suppose I could spare you the time in this instance.” Though it came out harsh, his smirk betrayed him to his best friend, whom he quickly helped from under the beam. “Are you injured? Can you walk?”
“Oh, Eraserhead, I don’t know if I can,” Yamada yelped out, feigning a sprained ankle. “If only there was a strong, handsome hero to carry me to safety!” Someone get this guy an Oscar, Aizawa thought. Nevertheless, he hoisted his friend over his shoulder and navigated him to the check-in point.
“Stay here and someone will be over to help you with that ankle soon, okay, civilian?”
“Aizawa, thank you so much for rescuing me, the poor damsel in distress! How can I express my gratitude? How can I convey how much I love you for being such a caring and diligent hero?”
It felt like someone had hit him in the back of the head with a crowbar. He doubled over in pain, closing his eyes and feeling the back of his head for a wound, or blood, or anything to explain the excruciating sting piercing his skull. I don’t feel any blood, that’s good. Okay, stand up. Breathe. His body scarcely listened to him. He straightened a little, but the throbbing in his head wouldn’t abate.
“Eraserhead? What’s up?” He felt a hand on his shoulder. Why is the ground so unsteady?
“Hey, Aizawa, tell me what’s wrong!” The hand moved under his arm to support him. What’s causing this pain?
“Shōta!”
The last thing he saw as he crumpled were the most brilliant pair of eyes he had ever seen, spiked hair, and the sky. None of it was gray.
__________
His eyes were usually uncomfortable, but not in this way. Sure, they were dry and itchy, but he wasn’t used to the pressure that felt built up behind them. He opened his eyes slowly, wary of the light streaming in from a nearby window.
“Aizawa, it is good to see you awake. How do you feel, dear?”
Recovery Girl. He looked around, eyes half open. I’m definitely in the nurse’s office. He nearly had to shut his eyes again. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt like his senses were being overloaded.
“Aizawa, I need you to slowly sit up and look at me.” He did as he was told. As his eyes opened, he noticed something different about recovery girl. He has always thought that the kind school nurse only wore gray and white, colors that could be easily cleaned of blood and dirt. It was sensible. He glanced at the color chart on the wall, matching a shade to the one he saw on her headgear. So that’s pink.
“Something is wrong with my eyes.” His tone was rather flat, as always, but Recovery Girl could see the panic on his features.
“Please explain your symptoms.” She took a seat in a chair across from him and waited patiently for his answer.
“I… my head hurt. I fell. Now I’m here and my eyes aren’t working right. I think I can… Is that pink?”
“I see what happened here. What were you doing before you fainted?”
“It was a rescue exercise. Our class was split into two groups. I was a rescuer.”
“Okay, so did you rescue anyone? Did anyone speak to you?”
“I had just gotten Yamada to the safe zone, and he was joking around about stuff. Then it felt like someone decided to use my head for batting practice.”
“What did Yamada say to you?”
“I don’t know. He made a joke about what a good hero I was to rescue him and how much he…”
“Continue, Aizawa.”
“How much he loved me for it.” Oh no. That can’t be it. There’s no way. He’s my best friend. Sure, we get along well, but that doesn’t mean… But now I can see…
“Calm down, child. Take a deep breath with me. In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four. I understand that this might be a shock. You’re not the first student I’ve had in here for this particular reason. That is precisely why I keep the color chart up. I’m not sure why it hits some people harder than others, but it seems you’ve gotten the worst of it. I assume you know what caused this?”
“Uhm, yes, Recovery Girl. I would appreciate it if the cause stayed between us.”
“If that is what you want, Aizawa. Though I would recommend resting here for the rest of the period, then telling Yamada when you get the chance. It is important for him to know, too.”
He spent the rest of the period lying down and thinking about how to break the news to Yamada. I’m sure he’ll be worried, I’ve never passed out like that before, and he knows it. He’ll want an explanation. I don’t know if I can just tell him, though. Not this. Maybe we’re just platonic soulmates? That would make sense. But I have been feeling weird lately… No. I can’t handle this. I can’t do it. Not today. I can just pretend I was dehydrated or something. That’s believable enough. That’ll give me some time to figure out… whatever this is. As long as I don’t say it back to him, he’ll never know. It should be pretty easy not to say “I love you.”
__________
Yamada accepted his explanation with a little hesitancy but continued the rest of the day like nothing happened. Aizawa found it hard to keep his eyes up from the white tile. There were so many colors. He never realized just how many there would be and how vibrant they were. They assaulted his eyes. One thought always drifted back though, Hizashi’s eyes are the best shade of green I’ll ever see in my life.
__________
Months went by and Shōta didn’t say anything. He kept his mouth shut about his ability to see how yellow Hizashi’s hair was and how blue the sky was on sunny days. He started to prefer the rain, just to have some bit of grayscale back in his life. He still didn’t know how to feel about his best friend being his soulmate. Anyone else would be happy about it. Especially if they had a crush on him like I do.
That much he had figured out. He could no longer see Hizashi entirely platonically. They had grown closer, gotten on a first name basis, and started to spend even more time together. Along with that, Hizashi was teasing him even more, adding in more physical touch than he did before. It seemed like every chance he got, Hizashi swung his arm around Shōta’s shoulders or slapped him on the back. When they watched movies he even used Shōta as a pillow, which meant that Shōta never actually remembered the movie the next day. He only remembered the weight and warmth of Hizashi’s head resting in his lap. It definitely wasn’t helping the situation.
“Hey, Shōta! Wanna come over and watch a movie tonight? Tensei can’t make it, but it’ll still be fun with just the two of us.” Hizashi looked so excited, his eyes bright and his smile wide. As if I could ever say no.
“Sure. But nothing too cheesy. I refuse to watch another American romantic comedy with you.”
“But those are the best, yo!”
“And you have horrible taste.”
“Not that bad, I chose you to be my best friend.”
“That just goes to prove my point, Hizashi.”
“Don’t talk about my best friend like that!” Hizashi playfully punched his shoulder and threw an arm over him as they walked home.
__________
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this. This is awful! I can’t watch!” The blonde was curled up into Shōta’s side as they watched the beetles crawl under the adventurer’s skin.
“You insisted on an American movie and this one seemed interesting. How was I supposed to know there would be bugs?”
“I don’t know! But next time I’m picking!” Hizashi’s face was now fully pressed against Shōta’s chest, muffling his powerful voice a little.
“Fine, I guess I owe you that much.” Shōta patted his friend on the back, hoping to help calm him.
“At least you’re here to watch it with me. It’s good to know I have someone to protect me from the bugs.” Hizashi’s big green eyes looked up at him with such sincerity that it stole Shōta’s breath. “Actually, I’m really glad to have you around. I like you, ya dig?”
“I’d hope so, Hizashi. We’re best friends.” Shōta watched as his friend sat up and looked away, seemingly no longer bothered by the beetles on screen.
“Not like that, Shōta. I like you. I thought maybe you’d catch on by now, but you haven’t, so I thought I’d just come out and say it. I get it if you don’t feel that way for me, and we don’t have to let this change anything, but I wanted to tell you.”
Shōta stared at Hizashi. How did I never think of the possibility that he could feel the same? All these months and I could have just said something.
“You know, you have the most beautiful green eyes.” Shōta waited for the recognition to set in on Hizashi’s face, but the boy showed no sign of comprehension. Instead, the blonde just let out a nervous laugh.
“First of all, great way to change the subject. Also, how would you even know?”
“Because for the last few months, I’ve been able to see color.”
Suddenly, Hizashi’s slight smile turned down into a frown. His brow furrowed as he began to understand what Shōta was telling him.
“Oh, so someone confessed to you. I get it. You could have told me, ya know. I’m happy for you. That’s great, finding your soulmate and all. I can’t wait to meet them.” His tone certainly wasn’t happy or excited, and he couldn’t meet Shōta’s eyes while he spoke.
I guess I need to be more direct. “I’ve been able to see them ever since the rescue training.”
“That’s an odd time for someone to confess. Weirder things have happened, I guess. Is this your way of saying it’s someone in our class?”
He’s really not getting this. Okay, here goes… “Hey, I don’t know why you decided to say the most powerful words in the world as part of your dramatic thank you. I would have expected you to say them dramatically in an entirely different context.”
Slowly, understanding dawned on Hizashi’s face.
“You mean…”
“I love you, Hizashi.”
Shōta watched as Hizashi’s eyes widened, blinked rapidly, and began to glance all over the room. He stood up from the couch, nearly falling back into it, and got onto his knees in front of Shōta.
“It’s me. It’s you. We’re…”
“Yeah.”
Hizashi launched himself into Shōta’s arms, wrapping him up in a tight hug. “How could you wait this long to tell me?”
“I wasn’t sure how to deal with the information and how I was feeling. But I just realized that everything will be alright.” Hizashi’s face was inches from his own. All it would take was a tip of his head and…
Hizashi pulled him into a gentle, slow kiss. This was worth the wait.