You had always fallen fast. It was like your heart never learned how to slow down, how to wait. Friends warned you. Parents, too. “You’re young,” they said. “Don’t rush. You’ve got time.” But your heart had never listened. It just leapt.

It leapt the second Izuku Midoriya looked at you.

It wasn’t even dramatic. Just a quick glance during a joint training session between classes. His green eyes locked with yours—uncertain, kind, wide open—and that was it. You were done. No internal warning bells, no weighing the consequences. Just a stupid, hopeless fall.

You started volunteering for anything that put you near him. Extra patrols, tutoring, support drills. You told yourself it wasn’t obvious, but even Bakugou gave you a knowing look once. You ignored it.

Izuku was… different. Not because he was perfect—he wasn’t. He overthought everything. He apologized too much. He pushed himself until he bled. But his goodness was real. Unshakable. You saw the way he cared. Not just about saving people, but about everyone. His friends, his classmates, you.

And when he started caring back?

It felt like magic.

You kissed him in the back hallway after training one day. He froze like you’d hit him. You panicked, pulled back, started to stammer an apology. But he stopped you—soft voice, trembling hands—and said, “No, it’s okay. I just… I didn’t think someone like you would ever…” He never finished that sentence. You kissed him again before he could.

It was never official. Never talked about. But he always found you. After long days. Before big exams. When things got too loud in his head. He’d come to you like it was instinct, and you’d hold him through it all.

You called it your Wonderland. This tiny, stolen part of life where it felt like the rules didn’t apply.

And for a while, that was enough.

There were no labels, no announcements. Just shared glances across the room. Quiet touches under the table during strategy meetings. Soft “be safe”s before patrols. The kind of connection that didn’t need to be loud to be real. It just was.

Sometimes, you wondered if anyone else noticed. If they saw how his eyes always found yours when Aizawa asked for volunteers. How you somehow ended up on every team together. If they caught the way he’d linger behind when the others left, just to walk beside you on the way back to the dorms.

You’d always fall fast but this? This felt like flying.

One night, during the rainy season, the dorm lights flickered from a passing storm. Everyone groaned, some panicked. But you and Izuku sat tucked under a blanket in the common room, a cup of cocoa in each hand, like the chaos didn’t touch you.

You nudged his arm. “You think the power’s gonna go out?”

He smiled, eyes still fixed on the window. “Even if it does… I’m good right here.”

You looked at him. Really looked. Damp curls sticking to his forehead. A smudge of cocoa on his bottom lip. That tired, gentle smile that made him look younger, softer, yours. You leaned your head on his shoulder. He leaned back.

Later, when you finally admitted you liked calling it Wonderland, he laughed—really laughed. The kind of laugh that cracked the quiet boy wide open and filled every corner of you with warmth.

“Then we’ll stay lost in it,” he said, still smiling. “Just you and me.”

There were still battles. Still long nights, aching bruises, and the heavy weight of being a hero in training. But somehow, none of it scared you—not when he was beside you.

Izuku made you brave. Not in the way fighting villains did, but in the way that taught you to open your heart without flinching. Because loving him wasn’t a reckless fall. It was the safest place you’d ever landed.