24 | miss cheer up

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
MISS CHEER UP


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You still hadn't gotten your strawberry milk.

By the end of your interaction with Shoto, you circled back to the vending machine, fully prepared to retrieve the carton that had rudely jammed earlier.

But it was gone.

Your stomach sank. In its place stood two second-years walking away from the scene of the crime. One of them was holding your strawberry milk and sipping it like they'd just won the lottery. As if that wasn't enough to crush your already weary soul, you were still close enough to hear one of them chirp;

"Can you believe this? It was totally stuck in there, and it just dropped. Free strawberry milk!"

You stood frozen, lips parted in horror, hands limp by your sides. Betrayal had never hit so hard.

It was right there. You had waited. You had suffered. You had emotionally supported someone else first. You earned that milk.

But alas, the universe had other plans. And today, you were not its favorite.

You returned to the lunch area like a defeated soldier—head low, footsteps heavy. Your usual group was already huddled around the table, laughter floating in the air like things weren't falling apart. Uraraka waved you over cheerfully, blissfully unaware of the tragedy you had just endured. You plopped down beside her with a sigh, grateful to at least sit, eat, and momentarily pretend that strawberry milk never existed.

Izuku sat directly across from you, poking at his tray. When his emerald eyes briefly met yours, he flushed bright red and immediately looked away, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves.

Poor boy.

You actually felt kind of bad that he had to be there, bearing witness to your predicament earlier. He didn't even say anything about it—which you deeply appreciated. A real gentleman. Respectful. Loyal.

You don't deserve him.

Okay, but it was kind of hard to focus on eating when he kept stealing glances at you. Like.. repeatedly.

You sighed and gently set down your chopsticks, eyes narrowing at his fidgeting fingers and the way he suddenly looked very interested in the decorative pattern on the lunch tray.

"Listen, Izuku. Sorry about earlier... you weren't too weirded out, were you?"

He practically jolted upright like someone had poked him with a taser. "Me? Weirded out? By you?" He let out a nervous laugh—high-pitched and cracking mid-way like his voice had suddenly time-traveled back to middle school. "No! I'm not! I just... thought—I mean..."

You tilted your head, squinting. This was not Izuku Midoriya behavior. Sure, the boy was always a little jumpy, but this was another level.

You leaned forward slightly, suspicious. "You mean... what?"

Izuku gulped, visibly debating with whether to speak or spontaneously combust on the spot. Finally, he dipped his head an inch closer and whispered just above a breath, his voice barely audible over the lunch chatter:

"A-Are you and Kacchan...?"

You nearly choked on your water.

You coughed, blinking in shock, and turned to him just in time to see his face go ten shades darker. Izuku immediately waved his hands like a panicked traffic controller, eyes wide with regret.

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