𝗖𝗨𝗣𝗜𝗗 ᝰ bnha

17 | what are the odds

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
WHAT ARE THE ODDS

cw: requires internet connection
for images to load

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Hey so, this is actually insane?

You glance back at Riri, who is lounging midair like it's the most comfortable couch in the world, lazily yawning as if none of this is of any real consequence.

Then your eyes drop back to your phone screen—your grip tightening slightly, heart doing an involuntary flip.

This is just a coincidence. A weird, strangely timed coincidence.

Your fingers tighten around your phone as heat slowly crawls up your neck, your brain short-circuiting with every second you let the thought linger.

And then—because apparently, you have no self-preservation—your mind starts playing through every little moment you've shared with him.

The times you stood up for him as a kid, glaring at anyone who dared to laugh at his dream. The way he used to look at you back then—wide-eyed, in awe, as if you had just moved the stars into alignment for him.

That day during the sludge villain attack, when All Might saved him, and you almost had to give him CPR. You still remember how frantic your heartbeat was, how close your lips were to his before he suddenly woke back up to life.

Or that time on the day of the entrance exams, and without thinking, you grabbed him before he could face-plant straight onto the pavement. He had blinked up at you, stunned, his face going pink, and you hadn't thought anything of it—only now, the memory makes your stomach twist in a completely different way.

And then there was USJ. The last thing you remember before blacking out: Izuku, the sheer panic in his eyes, the way his voice shook when he called your name. It had been the last thing you saw, the last thing you heard, before everything faded to black.

Because the idea that Izuku—your friend—could actually like you like that? Is so.. ugh. It's not like you're disgusted, but how do you even begin to process it?

Ridiculous? Awkward? ...Flattering?

Your chest feels uncomfortably tight. You don't like the way your heart stutters at the thought. It feels too big, too unfamiliar—like trying to put together a puzzle with missing pieces.

Okay. No. Just because he texted doesn't mean it confirms anything. Pfft. Please. That would be ridiculous. You're not about to go deluding yourself into thinking your childhood friend harbors some secret, long-standing crush on you.

You glance at Riri, who's lazily floating midair, a telltale smirk tugging at their lips. Narrowing your eyes, you point a finger at them. "Do you know anything about this?"

["Know about what?"]

"Don't play dumb."

["I'm not."]

With a groan, you flop back against your bed, staring at the ceiling. "Izuku texted me, only you could've given him my number."

Riri tilts their head, feigning surprise. ["That's great! You have Todoroki's and Midoriya's numbers,"] they comment, a sly grin creeping onto their face. Then, as if they were merely thinking aloud, they murmer under their breath, ["Now all you need is Bakugou's.]