Try Me Bitch (Vigilante Deku)

Thanks.... Shoto... just thanks!

Shoto took it upon himself to make sure I didn't spend a single break alone for the rest of the day. The moment the bell rang for our next break, he was by my side, guiding me to the cafeteria with a determined look. The thing is... he was in the hero class... that meant he had to cut his own class and get out earlier to come to the gen ed classrooms. 

I could tell he wasn't going to let me wallow in my thoughts any longer, and honestly, I was grateful for it.

As we sat down with our trays, Shoto started talking—about anything and everything except the mess that had been consuming my mind. He launched into a story about how his father, Endeavor, once got caught in the middle of a ridiculous argument between Natsuo and Fuyumi over who was better at making curry.

Shoto: Natsuo claimed his curry was superior because he added a secret blend of spices, but Fuyumi wasn't having any of it. She insisted her recipe was a family tradition, and Dad... well, he just sat there, trying to stay out of it, but his face was turning redder by the minute. Eventually, he just got up, grabbed a spoon, and started taste-testing both while they yelled at each other. He ended up saying they were both terrible, and walked out.

Me: Did he really say they were both terrible?

Shoto smirked, nodding.

Shoto: Yeah. But then he went back later and asked Fuyumi for her recipe. He won't admit it, but I think he liked hers better.

The story did what Shoto intended—it pulled me out of my own head, if only for a little while. He kept the stories coming, moving on to recount how his grandmother constantly nagged his father to bring them all back home for a proper family dinner.

Shoto: She's been on him about it for months. Keeps saying that 'a family dinner is the only way to heal old wounds,' or something like that. Dad just grumbles about it, but you can tell he's considering it. Mom's even in on it now, which means it's only a matter of time before he caves.

I couldn't imagine Endeavor caving to anything, but the idea of him being strong-armed into a family dinner by his own mother was pretty funny. I could picture the scene—Endeavor sitting at the table, trying to maintain his usual stern demeanor while his mom fussed over him, telling him to eat more.

Me: Do you think it'll actually happen?

Shoto shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

Shoto: Probably. When Grandma sets her mind on something, it's hard to stop her. Plus, I think part of him wants it too. He just doesn't know how to admit it.

We spent the rest of the break like that, trading stories and small laughs, with Shoto doing most of the talking. He never once brought up Eri or the situation I was so tangled up in, and I was thankful for it.

When the bell rang again, signaling the end of the break, Shoto stood up, giving me a reassuring look.

Shoto: Come on, let's get through the rest of the day. We've got one more break, and I've got a story about my brother that you won't believe.

And just like that, he made sure I had something to look forward to, something to keep me grounded in the present.

Every break followed the same pattern—Shoto would find me, and we'd talk about anything but what was eating away at me. He told me about his family, little anecdotes about training with his father, and even some embarrassing stories about himself when he was younger. Each story was a distraction, a lifeline that kept me from sinking back into my darker thoughts.

During our last break of the day, Shoto finally shared the story about his brother.

Shoto: Touya once tried to prank our dad by swapping his hero costume with a slightly smaller version. The idea was to make him think he'd outgrown it overnight. But Touya got the sizes mixed up and ended up putting the smaller costume in his own locker. When he suited up for training, he could barely move.

I couldn't stop laughing at the mental image of Touya, one of the most serious people I knew, stuck in a hero costume that was too small for him.

Me: What did he do?

Shoto chuckled, shaking his head.

Shoto: He tried to act like nothing was wrong, but Dad noticed immediately. Touya spent the entire training session trying to keep up while barely able to move, and by the end, he just gave up and admitted what he did. Dad wasn't even mad—he just laughed and said that was the most creative way he'd ever seen someone sabotage themselves.

The stories, the laughter—it was exactly what I needed. Shoto was doing his best to take care of me, and I could feel the weight on my shoulders lightening, if only a little.

As the day finally came to an end, Shoto walked with me out of the school, his presence alone was all it took for me to feel at ease. He didn't say much, but he didn't need to. He'd done more than enough to help me get through the day, and I was beyond grateful.

Me: Shoto... thank you. For everything.

He smiled at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly.

Shoto: You don't have to thank me, Izuku. We're in this together. Always.