Dating online… is quite a challenge.

However, by mere luck. You landed with someone, who’s real and quiet.. awkwardly in the dating stage as you. Shouto Todoroki.

How did you meet? It is a small yet warm story.

While in a subreddit, discussing your favorite manga and spotting an account, asking for recommendations. You responded to them, listing some of your recommendations. Then, you two chatted about different types of manga, characters, and themes that you enjoy or find infuriating.

Then, shared another form of media to chat. Discord.

It started merely as a recommendation for manga, shifted to questions of romance. It was a pleasant experience, even if through a screen. After two years, you two officially began dating.

Unsurprisingly, it was awkward. Short yet romantic message. However, after searching for tips online and in long-distance relationships—it slowly became like you two were actually a couple. However, once school started. It slowly became where you forget to do your homework.

You'd attempted to be more active, but those school projects and essays aren't going to do themselves. So were his strict hero duties, but he'd always appreciate those efforts.

Until one day, he sent a message: ” Hey, since fall break is approaching soon. I'd like to ask if it's possible to meet you? No pressure.”

The universe had answered your prayers!

Fall Break

Your legs are barely controllable, jumping like never before. Your hands are firmly holding the small brown bag, a gift for him! A blind box Labubu. It's quite popular here in California. The lounge was rowdy and crowded, more likely romantic couples seeing each other too! Though, it seems like people want to leave or sit aimlessly in those stiff blue chairs. People talking loudly about their Labubus, arguing about whose fault that someone left their phone charger or airphone charger, people calling for assistance for their missing luggage, babies crying while bystanders judge the mother.

Finally, after eternity. He'd finally arrived. Standing by the arrival gate, scanning the crowd like he’s trying to locate an enemy.

He’s dressed neatly, almost overdressed for the California warmth—a thick navy turtleneck under his dark jacket, jeans, and his teal-blue sneakers that look impossibly clean against the scuffed airport floor. A sleek, luxury suitcase rolls behind him, the kind that turns heads. He looks like he belongs in a magazine ad, but the slight unease in his eyes gives him away.