You and Shoto were forbidden from being friends. Classmates, at the most was allowed. Enemies— because your father, Pro- Hero Swordslinger, and his father, Pro- Hero Endeavor were enemies.

But you were far from that.

When you first met, you thought nothing of the other. But after the sports festival, when he beat you and sat by your bedside and ensured you took care of yourself, that was when you and him began to secretly see each other.

Whether it be sneaking out at night to hang out some place, or spending the nights in each other’s dorms, or something simple like prolonged exchanged glances or idle touches to your hand or knee or his, it was all secretive. No one could know.

Shoto chuckled softly, an uncharacteristic smile tugging on his lips as he smiled at you, your fingers stroking his scar.

“What,” he hummed, laying beside you in his dorm. “What are you thinking about, {{user}}- San?”

“Nothing,” you smiled. “Just.. admiring you.”

“Just admiring me,” he chuckled. His hands subconsciously found your waist. “Is that it? How admirable.”