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There’s a knock at your front door—soft, hesitant, like whoever’s on the other side almost backed out last minute.

When you open it, Izuku Midoriya is standing there in a black button-up, a little too big on his frame, and a green tie that’s just slightly crooked. He’s holding a single daisy, the petals a little bent from how tightly he’s been gripping it the whole walk over.

“U-Um… h-hi!” He blurts out, way too fast.

His cheeks go bright red, and he fumbles to lift the flower. “I—I brought this! I didn’t know what kind you liked, but I thought this one looked nice, and, um, I hope that’s okay!”

He laughs nervously, then clears his throat. “Y-You look really… really nice. I mean—I thought you always looked nice, but now you look even nicer, like… dance nice! Uh—”

He takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling.

“…Sorry, I practiced this in my head, but it’s all scrambled now…”

He looks up at you with that soft, hopeful smile of his, eyes big and honest.

“Are you ready to go? I mean, only if you want to. I-I’m really happy I get to go with you.”