A/N: First of all, I'd like to apologize for how late this is. I'm starting high school next year and stress started to pile up on me, and long story short, I ended up having a really rough few weeks and put the writing down for a while. But I've picked it back up again, so that's good! I'm definitely still set on finishing this story, but it's going to be a bit longer than I expected—this is only about the halfway point, and things are gonna start getting good from here (think the next few chapters). But anyway, just enjoy this for what it is, and I'm sorry to say that next chapter might be late as well (and when I say might, I mean probably), but I'll try my best!
~+~+~
Nobody said a word.
Seven students, all of them crammed into one worn and rickety boat, quite possibly about to erase themselves from existence and sink to the bottom of the ocean. Frozen under the looming silhouette of their homeroom teacher, Mr. Aizawa, they did not move a muscle, nor did they even blink.
Instead they simply stood there, in shock and in regret, because they knew—everyone in that room knew, even Aizawa himself—how absolutely and undeniably fucked they were.
The silence was unbearable. It was grueling and hard to endure, and it didn't disappear until Mr. Aizawa's voice once again rose from the shadows. "Tomorrow morning. Here. I will pull you aside and give you your punishment. And it will be big."
Everyone nodded, eyes bolted wide. Izuku swore he heard Mr. Aizawa mumble something under his breath as he walked away, something along the lines of, "And if it weren't for them I'd be asleep right now."
~+~
Mina woke up the next morning in a fog. She decided to stay bed when she realized how hungover she was, and she knew it was going to be a long day when she tried to sit up and couldn't because her head was pounding so hard. She sighed as she laid back down, sunlight pouring in from the curtains, very conscious of the fact that noon was approaching and she hadn't even gotten up to get dressed. But her whole body ached, and she was too busy trying to remember the shitshow that was last night to care.
She could remember most of what happened if she thought hard enough, but there were bits and pieces she felt she was missing. Judging by what her gut was telling her, she was forgetting some things.
Yet, no matter what, she could remember the moments with Izuku so vividly—keeping her out of harm's way, carrying her all the way home—just two of the many things she'd never forget. She wanted to swoon, but she was scared of what that'd do to her already aching stomach.
She could also remember blindly stumbling in on Kirishima and Bakugo's kiss, and she wondered how things turned out between them. She would've asked if she got the chance, but it wasn't a good enough reason to get out of bed.
Eventually the time hit her like a slap across the face. People would be wondering where she was! She tossed the blankets aside and stumbled out of bed and stumbled to get dressed and get down the stairs, hair sticking up in all different directions as she'd forgotten to brush it. A few heads turned to acknowledge her as she entered the common area, but most didn't bat an eye.
Needing someone to talk to, she snaked her way over to Jirou. "Has Mr. Aizawa said anything?" she asked, voice toned down to a whisper.
"Not yet. I think he's waiting for Kaminari. How's your hangover?"
"It's tolerable, I guess, but—ugh—my head is killing me! This is the last time I'm drinking. Ever."
Jirou furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't know if I believe that, but okay. It isn't my business anyway."
When Kaminari finally came downstairs, the class could've sworn he was on his deathbed. And Mina couldn't blame them, either, because his eyes were all red and puffy and his face was literally green, like he'd contracted some kind of weird disease. But she couldn't find it in herself to make fun of him, because upon his arrival Mr. Aizawa called them over for their dreaded talk, and that was a top priority in her eyes. In everyone's eyes, she assumed. And although most of their classmates were busy with training or homework or something or other and probably didn't even notice, it only took one with a particularly good eye to start something. A rumor. A nasty one. And chances were that it would be true.
"I'm disappointed."
A similar silence to the one from last night snaked its way into the room. There was no need for words; they knew good and well what they had coming for them.
"Find some other way to enjoy yourselves, all of you. Parties are never an option, especially not at this school. And look at you—you're all too hungover to even understand what I'm saying. What a disgrace." There was a pause as Aizawa took a sharp inhale, turning toward two of his star students. "Midoriya. Bakugo. I expected more from you two, as you've both been on house arrest once before. And you are all lucky I'm not giving you a bigger punishment, but if I hear any complaints—at all—you can say goodbye to your plans for the dance. Got it?"
They did get it, all of them. Their nods were robotic, lifting and lowering their heads at their homeroom teacher to let him know he'd gotten the point across. Mina's heart sunk when she saw Kaminari raise his hand. She was pretty sure everyone's did.
Mr. Aizawa turned to him blankly. "What is it now?"
"How long will we be on house arrest?"
"I was getting there," he replied through gritted teeth. "Give me a minute, will you? Anyway, from today onward, I'll be giving you a list of chores you have to complete. They will be done day by day, but as long as you have them all completed by the end of next Sunday there will be nothing to worry about. So, to answer your question, you will be on house arrest for one week. But failure to complete everything on the list will result in an extension on your time."
That was the end of the conversation. No questions asked. Silently, Aizawa handed them their papers, displaying far too many chores to get done in a single day's work. But his threats rang true in their minds, and they knew they'd have finish them in one way or another.
~+~
Monday marked their first full day on house arrest. Sunday afternoon was merely a test run, a not-so extensive list of chores that prepared them for what was to come, but the moment they got Monday's list they knew what they were really in for. And it involved a lot more than just a few loads of laundry.
"These weeds," Jirou heaved, trying hard to pull one of the aforementioned, infestive little plants from its rightful place in the ground, "are freaking stubborn."
"I know, right?" Mina nodded, trying another one next to where Jirou was, but just like the others, it wouldn't budge. This was their task for the day—to parse the garden back to its purest form, which had been getting increasingly more tangled lately—and this must've been the fiftieth unsuccessful shrub she'd tried. "It's like they're trying to make out with the ground or something."
Jirou stifled a giggle at that, much to Mina's amusement, but she wasn't all that amused anymore when she realized her usually hard-working friend had stopped working on the task at hand. Instead, she was looking up at her. "Mina, I feel bad for egging you on."
She let her focus go awry, losing her grip on the weeds she'd once kept such a close eye on. She looked up at Jirou. "What do you mean?"
"Saturday night. The party. Don't you remember?"
"Of course I do. I remember most of it, at least."
"Okay, then you remember all the snarky comments I made about you and Midoriya."
Mina furrowed her eyebrows, as she thought she and Jirou were on the same page about that. "But I thought you didn't mind me and Midoriya."
With no real reason or will at all, she began to pick at the underbrush again, fingers lacing around the leaves nervously. "I don't! But he's, y'know, kinda with someone already. And she's also my friend, too."
"So, what? Does that make her feelings more important than mine? Is that the problem?"
"Ugh, Mina, that was a stupid question and you know it. It just feels wrong to egg the two of you on when he's already with someone, if that makes any sense."
Mina told herself to take deep breaths, that now not the time to get angry. Putting her trust in Jirou was hard enough as it was, but she only made it harder when she continuously went back and forth like this. Couldn't she just pick something and stick with it and stop being so indecisive? "Then why? Do my feelings not matter at all?"
Jirou shrugged, giving her a what-do-you-expect me-to-say kind of look. "Of course they matter, you idiot," she laughed. "But so do Ochako's. And you need to think about that before you start getting ahead of yourself."
Mina let out the breath she'd been holding as an apology. "I really need to figure things out on my own, Kyoka. Like, all of these feelings are building up inside of me, and I have nowhere to put them. You know what I mean?"
Finally, for the first time in the last two days, Jirou found it within herself to let out a real, genuine laugh. "Not really, but whatever floats your boat, Mina. I'm just glad you're not hungover anymore, because it was literal torture to hear you complain about the dumbest shit yesterday."
"Oh, God, me too. I'd rather die than do that again." She checked to see how much dirt she had stuck in her nails before going back to weed picking. "Hey, I... didn't say anything weird at that party, did I? Nothing to Midoriya at least, right? I think I would remember if I did, but I just wanna make sure."
"Trust me, you didn't. At least from what I could tell. But you two were talking pretty quietly on the way home, so for all I know I could've missed something. Have you talked to him since then?"
Mina shook her head. "No. He hasn't come up to me yet."
Jirou looked at her, skeptical. "Well, you might wanna get on that soon."
"Why? Did he say something?" she asked, and miraculously, she was able to rip through the roots of an old weed she'd been working on for a while now. She tightened her grip around the stem, wanting to take Jirou's advice, but she wasn't sure whether or not it was a good idea. Izuku could've been feeling a number of different things right now, some of which were negative, and by ignoring her he'd already dropped a pretty big hint that maybe her intuitions were right.
But then again, he could've just been having one of his Izuku moments where he got all shy all of a sudden, which would explain why he was so quiet around her. He could be a total mystery sometimes.
She smiled to herself, thinking of all the inexplicable things he'd done, and then, regaining her composure, she returned to the task at hand.
Jirou scooched over a little and whispered, "Midoriya's a sensitive guy, Mina. If he was mad at you while you were drunk, he's probably even more mad now."
She made a face of disgust. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything to Jirou, because it was starting to nip her in the butt. "Well thanks, Kyoka! Now I'm even more scared to talk to him!"
"Who are you scared to talk to?"
Mina recognized that voice. It definitely reminded her of someone, but who did she know who had a voice like that? Izuku? Izuku! It had to have been Izuku.
Holy crap, she had to get her shit together, because it was Izuku!
"Nobody! Nobody at all!" she exclaimed, whipping around to face him. "What're you doing here, Midoriya?"
"Taking out the trash. What about you?"
"Just—"she shrugged, looking back at the bushes and then back to him"—getting rid of the weeds! They're, uh, stubborn, aren't they?"
He nodded, and even if he was a little confused, he was just glad she'd stopped her rambling. She wasn't making any sense in the first place, and quite frankly, he'd stopped trying to understand her a long time ago. His grip around the garbage bag that'd once been hanging loosely in his hand began to grow tighter. "I-I'm sorry if you're busy, but can I talk to you for a sec, Ashido?"
"Uh, sure?" She glanced over her shoulder at Jirou, who was keeping a comfortingly close eye on her, and with the reassurance of a friend, she shrugged, following Izuku around the back of the building.
Her attempts at slowing him down were getting nowhere. Eventually she gave in to the inevitable and let him lead her, and once it was so quiet she could hear a pin drop, she asked, "What's going on, Midori?"
He stopped, turning around so they were standing face to face. "You... haven't said anything, have you?"
"About what?"
"About... y'know... what we saw. K-Kirishima and Bakugo."
She gave him a sideways glance. Couldn't he trust her a little more than that? "You know I'd never do that to you, Midori. I mean, c'mon! I'm your friend! Well, Kirishima's my friend too, but—y'know."
"And... You swear you're not lying?"
She gave him a look. "Midoriya, come on. You know I'm not like that."
He sighed. "Well, no, I don't. It's just... Y-you can be kinda unpredictable, Ashido. You lied about a lot this weekend. With the party and the people who would be there, and even the drinks!"
She dug her nails into the sides of her sleeves, knowing good and well that if he tried hard enough, he could read her like a book. But she didn't really care at this point, because this was one of the things she could remember so vividly. She'd been here before, just a few nights ago, having the exact same conversation with the exact same atmosphere and the exact same everything, and even their choice of words was similar, just slightly more jarring now that she was sober enough to process it. Somehow everything he said was magically ten times worse, which might've had something to do with the fact that she wasn't intoxicated.
"So that's why you haven't been talking to me lately? You're still mad about the stupid party thing?"
"Well it is kinda the reason I'm on house arrest now."
"Then maybe you shouldn't have come."
He looked at her funny. "If only you'd warned me, Ashido. But you didn't. You lied to me instead, because—why? I-I don't even know. Why'd you lie to me, Ashido?"
Silence—the unbearable kind. Something she'd usually consider a blessing, but now, as it stood today, it was nothing more than a curse.
The need for a distraction grew to be too much for her, and she started to finnick with whatever was closest. Grasping the bottoms of her sleeves, she sighed, as she wasn't used to being put under such an intense and intimidating limelight. Nevermind that—she wasn't used to quarrels in general, with anyone, really, and especially not with her friends. It made her feel ill for some reason, knowing that Izuku harbored an underlying hatred toward her, and maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was in love with him. Of course it did. When was that ever not the case?
She found it within herself to retaliate. "I thought we already talked about this, Midoriya. If I didn't lie you wouldn't have come, and if you didn't come I... I would've been sad. And alone. I would've been alone."
He was more than a little confused. "Y-you have Kirishima and Kaminari and all of your other friends, and you get to hang out with them all the time. But somehow you're still alone?"
She threw her hands in the air in some kind of wild gesture and didn't hesitate to say, "You know what, Midoriya? Nevermind—forget what I said, because you clearly can't figure it out yourself. I mean, God, it's like you don't understand me at all."
Izuku, who'd actually been silent for a while now, remained that way, at a complete loss for words. He decided that at a time like this it was best to let the silence speak for itself, because she was right: he didn't understand her, and he probably never would. She contradicted him in every which way possible. Sometimes he imagined they were born to be on opposites, because some of the things she did he never even would've considered doing in a million years. She was, in his eyes, an enigma.
But even though their differences were what lead them to where they were now, he hated it. He absolutely hated fighting with her.
He would've died for a little relief, or at least a cutback on the tension. And so, hoping for exactly that, he said, "I don't think I do, Ashido. U-understand you, I mean."
"Huh?"
"It's just that we're so... different, I guess? Don't get me wrong, we're good friends, but we've got nothing in common. I wouldn't have even considered going to a party unless you dragged me into it."
A smile crept its way onto Mina's face, and even though she wished she didn't have to admit it, she agreed with him. He was analytical like that, admitting the obvious. She knew his words to be true, she'd known for a long time, but she wasn't sure if she should've taken it seriously or not because being that way could've been both a good and a bad thing. "Yeah, I know what you mean. As if I couldn't tell already," she teased. "But, that's not an excuse for me to drag you into something miserable, even if I think you'll enjoy it. You're not the one at fault, Midoriya, so don't worry about it, 'kay? It was all me."
"Well, I mean, I didn't have to come, did I?"
"'Course you did. It wouldn't have been the same without you."
There was a moment in time when Izuku didn't know what to say. His stomach felt fluttery all of a sudden, knotting his insides from the inside out, and he was taken by surprise at how prevalent it was, like being being punched in the gut but in a good way. He was left with no other choice but to stop and stare as she smiled, bright and bold and beaming with liveliness, especially the way her eyes seemed to glow in the early morning light. It was a refreshing yet familiar feeling, and he wished it would've lasted longer than it did.
He was a little conflicted, though, because he still had to hide the fact that his cheeks were burning, and he thought he was having a hot flash.
But if he had to be totally honest, he would say he didn't hate the feeling.
He realized he was going to sutter again if he tried to talk. "O-oh, I didn't know—"
Eyeing him up and down reluctantly, she shushed him. "I know you were carrying me home for awhile, and I was kinda in my comfort zone so I don't really remember much, but you would tell me if I said something weird, wouldn't you?"
"You didn't. Y-you said a lot of nice things, actually. And funny ones, too," he professed, and now that she had the reassurance she needed, she could say with confidence that she absolutely loved his smile. She swore he was going to be the death of her if things didn't hit a turnaround soon.
Izuku got all quiet again. She thought he might've hit another roadblock in his speech or forgotten what he was going to say, but the atmosphere that hung in the air said otherwise.
She thought that maybe, just maybe (although it couldn't very easily just been her mind playing tricks on her), the heavy atmosphere she was just now starting to notice was something along the lines of awkward tension. She'd been noticing it for a while, actually, but now that there was a break in the conversation she was finally able to address it.
But upon giving it that second thought, she realized it could've just been Izuku being Izuku, and she ignored her intuitions and continued on as if nothing had happened. "You say that, but I probably just said something stupid and creeped out a bunch of strangers," she said to no one in particular. "Ooh, and I bet I egged some people on! Like, I must've seen some stranger dancing around some girl he liked, and then I got the two of them together. I wish. I mean, it kinda worked with you-know-who."
He found it funny watching her run her mouth over the most trivial things, so, not trying to rush anything, he waited for her to realize she'd went off on a tangent on her own. Eventually she did, turning to him and looking him dead on the eye.
"But... Thank you, Midori, for keeping an eye on me and carrying me home and, uh, doing whatever else you did." She giggled. "I honestly can't remember."
She'd made him blush with that. She could tell.
"N-no problem."
She felt weird just standing there, so she started off, leaving him alone to figure things out on his own. "See ya later, dude! I've got so many freaking chores to do!" she called, and as she waved goodbye, going along her merry way, she couldn't have wiped the smile off of her face if she tried.
~+~
Carrying baskets upon baskets of dirty laundry from upstairs into the laundry room was proving to be a difficult feat—especially for Izuku, who'd already been worked to the bone long enough for one day. He grimaced whenever his nose got too close to the single sock sitting at the top of the pile, but he ignored the urge to vomit and pushed onward, needing to get this done. It was the last thing on his list, at least until tomorrow.
The common room was empty for most of the time he'd been working, but it didn't stay that way for long. Bakugo and Kirishima came waltzing in a little while later, bodies a bit too close for comfort, finishing off the lasts of their lists together. Izuku tried not to stare, but Mina had just recently told him they'd become a couple (after the whole party thing, obviously), and it was hard not to. Besides, they were even busier with chores than he was, so surely they wouldn't notice.
He kept up with the laundry, and eventually the city fell dark. He still had a few more loads to do, and he sighed when he saw the rest of his classmates eating dinner downstairs, smiles on their faces, thankful to be free of any responsibilities; he wished that were him.
Out of everybody, Mina was the one who caught his eye. She was using her incredible dance skills to her advantage, performing right there in the middle of the living room, and although he'd said this plenty of times before, it was like she was a professional. People were watching, too, namely Kirishima and Kaminari and a few others who had gone to that stupid freaking party, the one that'd gotten him into this position in the first place.
He watched her spin, rolling and turning in ways he thought unimaginable, and he thought he must've been glued to her; he couldn't have taken his eyes off of her if he wanted to.
After all—and he had known this for a while, but he'd never really taken the time to acknowledge it—she was a pretty freaking spectacular breakdancer.
Kirishima caught sight of Izuku's staring, and when Izuku realized this, he tried to play it off like no big deal, hoping to God that the redhead wasn't as smart as he thought he was. His cheeks were burning like crazy though, nearly impossible to ignore, and he had to wonder why.
This wasn't the first time this had happened. What was going on with him lately?
Shaking it off, he carried the last few baskets of laundry into the laundry room, picking up the clothes that fell out along the way, and started another load. He needed a distraction.
"It's kinda late to still be doing your chores, isn't it?"
He spun around to find Uraraka standing in the doorway, one hand propped up on the doorframe and the other lying lazily by her side. He relaxed when he saw her. "I'm almost done, thankfully," he said.
"Need any help?"
"No, I think I got it."
Uraraka walked his way, suddenly looking a little more serious. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Hmm?"
"That you were going to a party."
He stopped what he was doing and looked up at her. "I-it was a last minute decision. I thought it'd be better if you didn't know."
"Why? Because you knew I'd say no?"
Uraraka's honesty wasn't going to waver; it was here to stay. Izuku knew there was no way of working around this, and most of the time he would've been him happy about it. Usually she was only so blunt when she was overcome with emotion, especially annoyance, but in the circumstances they were in now, it did nothing but solidify the fact that he'd dug himself into a hole. In fact, he was scared half to death, and by a girl, no less, because he knew he was the reason for all of her anger.
"I just didn't want to get you involved, Uraraka. Honest."
He sure as hell didn't owe any obligations to her, nor did he feel bad for what he'd done. He didn't even think he'd done anything, really. It wasn't like he lied to her. Simply put, some of the things he said might've not painted the whole truth, but that was it. He just really didn't want to get Mina involved.
Shyly, Uraraka's eyes fell upon the t-shirt she held in her hands, folding it carefully. It was fresh out of the dryer, and she didn't want it to wrinkle. She'd snuck over to help Izuku despite his reassurance not to awhile ago, and he hadn't even noticed yet. "You should tell me these things, Deku. I mean, it's a party. Not exactly the same as hanging out with your friends or visiting your mom. You shouldn't have even gone in the first place."
He sighed, lips turning down into a frown. "I know. I-I'm sorry, Uraraka, and if it means anything to you, I regret even going in the first place. I should've just gone with my gut, and now look where it got me," he said, and he had it in him to laugh at himself. It was one of those half-hearted laughs, the kind that was awkward for both of them, where he knew what he was saying wasn't funny but he would feel weird if he didn't do something. "I swear half the class hates me now."
Uraraka's elbow brushed against his, scooching a little closer to him, but he wouldn't have even noticed if it wasn't for the skin-to-skin contact. That was one thing—the feeling he used to get whenever she was around was starting to fade, and fast.
Actually, he'd been feeling a little funny around her for a while now. It was like there was something stuck between them, pushing them apart, and although he knew for sure that it was there and he wasn't making things up, he couldn't quite think of a logical reason for the hindrance it bore down on him. Maybe he was beginning to distance himself?
Oh, he didn't have a clue. He was horrible with feelings.
Bringing him back to the conversation was the sound of her voice. "One thing's for sure, Iida's mad at you."
He sighed, saying, "Is he? He was mad the first time I was on house arrest."
"He says he thinks you're a disgrace."
Why wasn't he surprised? In fact, he was the stupid one for even putting it past the class representative in the first place. Even though they were friends, Iida was the kind of guy who'd scold anyone who so much as laid a finger outside of the fiats, and in this case, Izuku had held out his whole hand. "W-well, I kinda am—"
She grabbed him by the wrist, her grip firm at first. "No you're not. I-it's just... He's, well, Iida. Whatever. It doesn't matter what he thinks, does it?"
Izuku shook his head, but both of them knew that at heart, it did matter a little. He was the class representative, after all, and he wasn't the only one thinking that way.
Uraraka's fingers snuck between the hollows in his, and he let her do what she wanted with them. She took the opportunity and ran with it, holding his hand tentatively like she needed some getting used to. "C'mon, what do you say we get something to eat while we wait for the laundry to finish?"
"Okay," he replied, and throwing caution to the wind, he let her lead him out of there, his heart barely beating at all.