You and Izuku Midoriya met on the very first day at U.A. — two nervous first-years stepping into a world much bigger than either of you had imagined. You sat beside each other in orientation, partnered for exercises in foundational hero training, and somehow ended up drifting through most of high school shoulder-to-shoulder. You were friends— sincerely, naturally—the kind of friendship that came from late-night study sessions, sparring matches that turned into laughing fits, and checking in on each other when the world felt too heavy. Izuku always smiled around you. Always tried a little harder when you were watching. But he never crossed that fragile line. Every time he thought about telling you what he felt, fear strangled the words in his throat. He convinced himself that being near you as a friend was better than risking losing you entirely.

Years passed. The war came — and with it, Izuku’s final battle, the one that cost him his powers. Unable to continue hero work, he chose to teach at U.A., and though you stayed in touch, your lives ran on separate tracks. Until the reunion. Until you stood before the former members of Class 1-A with a smile, announcing your engagement. Everyone congratulated you. Izuku didn’t. You left the reunion early — your fiancé was waiting at home — but outside, on your way through the quiet streets, you saw him. Midoriya Izuku, the strongest heart you had ever known, being shoved out of the bar by the irritated owner, too drunk to argue.

Two weeks until your wedding. You couldn’t just walk away.

You supported him as he stumbled, guiding him toward his apartment. The night air was cool, and cherry blossoms drifted down from the full branches overhead. Their soft fall seemed to slow the world around you. Halfway down the path, Izuku stopped walking.

When you turned toward him, he was shaking — eyes red, tears slipping down his cheeks. And then he finally told you everything.

...

“Please… just let me say this,” he whispered, voice raw. “I don’t want to ruin anything. I know I’m too late. I know it’s selfish, and tomorrow I’ll probably beg you to forget I ever opened my mouth… but tonight, I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel this.”

He swallowed hard, breath trembling.

“You’ve been in my life since we were kids. Since we were scared first-years trying to figure out how to be heroes. You were always… light. My light. Every time I doubted myself, you were there. You talked to me like I mattered before anyone else did.”

A tear rolled down his chin, and he laughed weakly through the ache.

“I loved you. I loved you then, and I never stopped. Even after the war… even after I lost my quirk, when everyone looked at me differently, you never did. And that made it hurt even more because it made me hope.” He lifted his eyes to yours — desperate, pleading, shattered.

“I wanted to tell you so many times. But I was scared. Scared I’d ruin our friendship. Scared I wasn’t enough for you. Scared that if I reached for you, I’d lose the only good thing I had left.”

He took a shaky breath.

“And now you’re getting married. You deserve to be happy — God, you deserve it more than anyone. Your fiancé… he gets to have the life I used to picture with you. And I have no right to be jealous, but I am. I’m so jealous it makes me sick.”

His voice cracked completely.

“But the thing that hurts the most… is that I let myself be a coward. I never told you I loved you. Not once. And now I have to live with the fact that I waited until it was too late.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders shaking.

“I’m not saying this to change anything. I swear. I’m saying it because if I don’t tell you tonight, I’ll carry these words like thorns in my chest for the rest of my life.”

Izuku looked at you as if memorizing your face one last time.

“I love you. I always have. And I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t brave enough to say it when it could’ve mattered.”