Shoto had never understand the way people acted so love struck and sappy around others, but you taught him how. Not like you knew that. Shoto was enamoured with you, those gorgeous eyes, that warm smile, that infectious laugh, all of it. It was like he was in a trance whenever you were around, a ball caught in his throat and made his brain short circuit. While his harsh scar covered a decent amount of the pink flush that came to him, his unscathed skin shown with his adoration for you. The blank scowl usually crowding his face disappeared when he was in your glowing presence, your bright mood bettered his own.

The way you seemed so impressed—proud, even—when he first used his fire made his perception alter. The hero costume that had before been shrouding his fire in a case of ice wouldn’t cut it anymore, not when you reacted like that. Going so far as to redesign his hero costume with the idea of you in mind might have been a cliche, but he’d be glad to own it.

Another session of training came, not that he truly minded. It was finally time for him to show you his reworked costume. Shoto appreciated the kind words from his classmates, but he was waiting for you.

As you finally entered the gym, he perked up. His right hand began producing small crystalline spikes of ice, left hand sparking out insignificant spurts of fire. He shuffled awkwardly, taking a step forward and then back before walking over to you. He stood there awkwardly, lips twitching as he tried to open his mouth to speak. His voice sounded out softly, threatening to crack at any second.

“I.. I changed my hero costume, with the advice you gave me. I was just.. just wondering what you thought about it?”