Chapter Text
It starts out with the little things. It is always the little things.
Jirou is a very observant person. It likely stems from her love of music-to her, listening to music isn’t just a background activity, it is a talent. She’s able to single out and analyze every part of a song, to recognize harmonic changes and patterns, to understand how the vocals and bass and rhythm section works together to create something worth more than the sum of its parts. Initially, she isn't surprised by how much she observes Momo whenever she is around. After all, Momo is very conventionally attractive, and overall a very captivating personality by normal standards. After all, she was originally going to be class president. After all, she scored number one on both the quirk apprehension test and the midterm exam. After all, everyone thinks very highly of her.
Right?
So, the confusion, for a lack of a better word, kicks in when Jirou realizes she notices everything about Momo. The fact that her high ponytail is always slightly off center, leaning more towards the left side of her head. How whenever she talks about her quirk, her voice unintentionally switches to a very scholarly tone. The way her eyes light up whenever she spots Jirou. And so, so much more. But the real question is why? Why is so much of her attention devoted to this girl? Why does she feel unexplainably odd around her, even though she considers her a friend at this point?
Then one day it all makes sense. Jirou doesn't accept it right away, even though she knows the truth. No one else in her life has gone through a similar experience that she knows of, and the similar stories she finds online aren't enough to ensure her that she's okay. It's not the kind of thing she would ever tell anyone; what if she gets rejected, or bullied, or labeled? She tells herself that it's unimportant, especially at this point in her life, when all she really has to worry about is school and hero work. But it is always lingering in the back of her mind. Especially whenever she's around Momo.
The initial shock wears off soon enough, though, and everything pretty much goes back to normal. In a way, Jirou feels relieved that she's figured it out sooner than later; at least she won't spend any more days walking around in a frustrated, confused blur. At the same time, the burden of harboring something so outstanding grows more difficult by the day. She's not a person of many secrets, and this one seems to be the most obvious of them all. So she spends the next many months enjoying the trials of school and training set before her all the while trying to suppress this all-consuming thing that doesn't really matter.
Up until this point, Jirou has skillfully avoided most conversation regarding her personal love life (besides the few comments about her and Kaminari, which she has instantly struck down), choosing to quickly change the subject or turn the conversation around on the other person. She really doesn't think it's anyone else's damn business, as a matter of fact, but that doesn't stop the rest of the teenage population from shoving romance down other people's throats. This is no different when Uraraka sends herself flying into the air in embarrassment one night after being accused of being in love.
"No, it's not, it's not..." Uraraka stutters, tumbling in circles by the ceiling.
"Who is it? Which one? Who is it?" Toru demands.
Jirou smirks (her stomach churns). "Spill it out. You'll get a lighter sentence if you confess."
If she's being completely honest, leaving the room sounds like a great idea right about now. The thought of the conversation somehow being directed towards her makes her irrationally nervous, but that doesn't stop her from wanting to investigate Uraraka any further. Although it couldn't possibly be more obvious as to who Uraraka is obsessed with.
So when Tsuyu and Momo insist that everyone should leave Uraraka alone, Jirou lets out an internal sigh of relief. Of course Momo, the most civilized and well-intentioned person she knows, would be the one to inadvertently save her. And there it is again. That feeling, starting in her chest, sinking down into her stomach and settling there uncomfortably until her mind becomes preoccupied with something other than Momo.
She wonders when, or if it will go away.
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Jirou notices over the few weeks of being in the dorms that the common area seems to the be least crowded during Thursday evenings; that being said, most tests during the week land on Friday’s, and most people prefer to study in solitude or with a partner in their own rooms. She’s already studied plenty for the test and is feeling a little restless, so she grabs her phone and decides a walk will be enough to clear her mind. Something in the back of her mind tells her to ask Momo to join her, but she’s probably the thing she needs to get her mind off of.
As Jirou starts walking past the common room, she notices a single person curled up on one of the couches, writing in a small notebook: Izuku. He looks extremely focused on whatever he’s writing, possibly muttering to himself quietly, but when he notices Jirou in the room, he looks up and grins widely. “Hey, Jirou!”
“Yo, Izuku. What’s up?” Jirou asks. She debates on whether or not she should keep walking, but a sudden image flashes through her mind.
Todoroki.
And then Momo, because everything seems to remind her of Momo.
Her instincts give in and she takes a seat on the couch opposite of Deku, who sits up from his catlike position. “Not much,” he says. “Just studying.”
“For the tests tomorrow?” Jirou asks.
“Nah, I already studied for those. I’m uh, studying quirks and how their heroes use them. I always try to observe what techniques heroes use manipulate the quirks given to them to their advantage,” he chirps.
“That’s an interesting way to think of quirks, huh. As separate things controlled by a person,” Jirou says.
Suddenly Izuku turns very red. “Ah, that’s not what I meant! It’s just that, you know, some quirks, like All for One’s, are able to take other people’s quirks away from them, or are passed down through generations of heroes. Or villains, in his case,” Izuku sputters, inexplicably embarrassed.
“Oh, okay. Don’t sweat it,” Jirou says, noticing Izuku’s visible panic.
“So...what are you doing down here?”
“I was gonna take a walk, but I guess talking to you would be just as effective.”
Izuku looks confused. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, just thought I’d get out of my room and clear my head. Anyways, where’s Todoroki?”
Izuku looks even more confused now, and he’s back to being red. “Um, I don’t know, he’s probably in his room. Why do you ask?” he says.
“Well, it always seems like you guys are together. You probably know him really well, huh.”
At this, Izuku relaxes a little, smiling. “Yeah, I do know him really well, probably better than anyone else here. He was very, ‘Oh, I’m not making friends here, blah blah blah’ for awhile, but he ended up becoming friends with a lot of people without realizing. For some reason, with me in particular, he’s opened up a lot. Especially after the sports festival. Everything started to make sense with him. We’ve kinda had to work together a lot as heroes, but we’ve also become really good friends outside of that. I think he-“ Izuku suddenly stops, continuing in a lower tone. “I’m rambling, aren’t I.”
“You could say that,” Jirou laughs.
Izuku sighs and shuts his notebook. “Sorry about that. I just can’t help myself whenever I’m talking about something I’m passionate about.”
“It’s okay,” Jirou assures him, although his explanation comes across as slightly lovestruck. Speaking of being lovestruck...
Jirou shifts. “Okay, so, uh, there’s something I’ve been wondering about him for awhile now. And I guess it’s really not any of my business, but it involves people I know. If it’s too personal, you don’t have to tell me, although I’ll probably be able to figure it out from your reaction,” she explains.
Izuku looks slightly scared. “What is it?”
Jirou exhales deeply. “Does Todoroki like Momo?”
Izuku stares at her blankly, his mouth slightly open. "He does?" he asks.
"I'm asking you!" Jirou exclaims, taken aback by his reaction.
"I-I don't know! He's never even talked about her before! I don't think he likes her. Unless he's the type to be quiet about his crushes, because he's sure never talked to me about anyone he liked. It's kinda odd because he seems like the guy who a lot of girls would like, but he never flirts back with any of them. Like, who knows if he even likes g-" and then Izuku stops completely this time.
Jirou's eyes widen. She doesn't know if she should finish the sentence for him, because she doesn't know what he wants to say. But something inside her does.
"Girls?" she says softly.
Izuku looks down, a guilty look clouding his green eyes. "That's probably not a very nice thing of me to say, huh," he says. "He trusts me more than anyone here, and yet here I am, making assumptions I can't even prove."
"Well, do you think he's gay?" Jirou asks. And she realizes that this is the first time she's ever talked to another student at U.A. about sexuality.
"I...I don't know. Like I said, I don't want to assume anything, but there are just a lot of things that would make sense if he is," Izuku admits.
"Hey, hey. Your intent isn't malicious. I'd say it's more caring than anything. And it's not like you care if he's gay, right?" Jirou says.
"No, of course I don't care! Well, I mean, like, I do care, but not because I think it's bad or anything. I care because he's my friend and I want him to be happy. I just wish I could...ask him about it without it being nosy or weird."
Jirou thinks for a moment. "Maybe you should," she says.
Izuku shakes his head furiously. "What if he gets mad at me? What if I ruin our friendship because he thinks I like him or something? Even if he is gay, would he think I wouldn't accept him?"
"You're overthinking it, Izuku," Jirou says. "Todoroki trusts you, right?"
"Yeah, but-"
"Then that's all there is to it. If he's opened up to you, and he looks like a tough nut to crack, he obviously respects you and your opinions a lot. I think at this point you could mention something along the lines of crushes and just slowly lead up to the topic of sexuality. Maybe make it about yourself, at first," Jirou suggests.
Izuku smiles. "You seem like you know a lot about this, huh," he says, an almost longing tone in his voice.
"I guess you could say that. I'm kinda in a similar situation," Jirou says.
"You think one of your friends is gay too?" Izuku asks.
"No, no," Jirou says, reddening. "Just, you know, trying to find out more about a friend without seeming invasive, I guess."
"Who?"
Jirou stares at him exasperatedly, and Izuku remembers. "Oh, yeah! The whole reason why you're talking to me is because, uh, Momo and Todoroki..."
"Yeah," Jirou laughs. It's kind of funny to think that Izuku opened up to her so much about his best friend, and she can't even admit the glaring truth to him. She knows that Izuku wouldn't tell anyone (except for maybe Todoroki), but the words refuse to come out. All she wants is for this to not be a big deal, and yet something tells her it will be. Coming out. Admitting that she has feelings for a classmate. At the end of the day, there's no way for her do all of this successfully without drawing unwanted attention to herself from her classmates, even if it isn't obloquy. Jirou wants to be known for her musical skills, and for being a strong hero, and for being a hardworking student, not for something that shouldn't entirely define her as a person.
Suddenly it all floods over her at once, and she can't take it anymore. Something clogs up her throat in the same way it does when she's on the verge of tears, and she knows she has to leave before any tears actually come. She stands up quickly, grabbing her phone from her back pocket. "I really appreciate it, Izuku. I gotta go now, but see you tomorrow," she says, smiling.
"Oh, bye, Jirou! Thank you!"
Jirou rushes out of the dormitories. The time on her phone reads 8:46. Good. I don't have to be back inside for another hour, she thinks. The cool night air blows part of her hair in her face, and she swats it aside. That nervous feeling from before is still there, her heart beating quickly under her chest. So she turns to the solution for all (well, most) of her problems: music.
One of her favorite things about her quirk is that she's never had to bother with earbuds; although she has had to untangle her own earlobes before, she's never dealt with the terror of losing them like many of her classmates have. She couldn't possibly imagine not being able to listen to music at any given point in time.
Her brain is too overwhelmed to think of a song, so she goes to the list of all her songs and presses shuffle, turning her phone off. Static. Then immediately following, dialogue.
They're these terrors, and it’s like
It feels like as if somebody was gripping my
They're theses terrors and it’s like
It feels like as if somebody was gripping my throat
Of course, Jirou thinks, the most emo band in my library. Not that she's complaining, of course-she could go on for hours about why My Chemical Romance was one of the most revolutionary bands of the early 2000's-it's just funny that this song would play as she's taking a walk at 9 p.m. in an attempt to clear her head. The piano and guitar kicks in, and her mind becomes absorbed in the music.
And through it all
How could you cry for me?
Cause I don't feel bad about it
So shut your eyes
Kiss me goodnight
And sleep
Just sleep
The hardest part is letting go of your dreams
Halfway through the song, she unconsciously starts humming along to the melody. No one else is in sight, so she doesn't bother to lower her voice, and eventually, she's full-on singing the lyrics.
She stops walking at the next chorus, approaching the outskirts of the school's campus, and lets everything clogging her brain go, her powerful voice ringing out in the quiet night sky. Her throat is slightly sore by the end of it as she strains for air, but she feels 100 times less distraught than she was earlier. Singing rarely fails to help her through the tougher moments, and tonight it has certainly proved itself to be a reliable coping method.
Jirou collapses on her bed thirty minutes later, utterly exhausted, but ultimately in a much better mood than the one she's been stuck in for the past many days.
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The following day, Momo and Jirou are mindlessly chatting after class when Momo goes silent, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.
"What is it?" Jirou asks.
"I was thinking that we should go to the mall today. There's this store I've been wanting to visit for a while, but I haven't had anyone to go with. I'll get you something, if you'd like," Momo says happily.
The mall? By ourselves? It sounds like a...
"Date," Jirou whispers to herself.
"Huh?"
"That sounds fun!" Jirou says. "I don't really have anything to do today, so it's perfect. What time are we going?"
"How about now?" Momo grins.
"Alrighty," Jirou says. A wave of excitement floods over her; making last-minute plans, especially with Momo, is something she could certainly get used to.
"I'll go get my things from my room. Meet me in the common area when you're ready," Momo says, and the two break off to prepare for the outing.
They take the train to the Kiyashi Ward mall, which only takes about ten minutes, and are dropped off right by it. Jirou suddenly remembers what happened the last time they were there. Even though she didn't see it firsthand, Izuku explained how Tomura explained his hatred for both Stain and Izuku, and could have easily killed him. She looks at Momo, who seems to remember the same thing.
"I hope nothing like what happened last time happens today," Momo frets.
"Don't worry, it's just the two of us. I doubt the villains know who we are. It’s not like All Might has taken us under his wing like how he has with Izuku. And besides," Jirou says, mustering up the best impression of All Might as she can, "I am here!"
Momo bursts out laughing, and Jirou smiles. It's not something she hears every day, and it fills her with unexplainable warmth and comfort. While Momo generally comes across as a cheerful person, Jirou knows the difference between her polite and genuine happiness. She wonders if she's the only one who can tell them apart.
Momo leads them to the store, which proves to be difficult, given the amount of people bustling through the mall. "It's so crowded," Jirou mutters, and Momo frowns. Someone cuts across Jirou's path, and for a moment she becomes separated from Momo. This is definitely the worst part about being under 160 centimeters, Jirou decides, squeezing in between several passerby to catch up with Momo again.
"Sorry," Momo says, and Jirou fully realizes how high Momo towers above her. Jirou flushes and steps behind Momo.
"You're the conductor," Jirou says, placing her hands on Momo's back and pushing her through the crowd. She spots an opening right in front of the store Momo had mentioned earlier, and yells, "Go, go!" They enter the store just before a large group of people pass by, and Momo sighs in relief. "Good thing you're so tall," Jirou says flatly. "Otherwise we wouldn't have made it."
"Shortie," Momo replies, and Jirou smacks her arm.
After looking around the store for a bit, in particular the price tags, Jirou realizes she probably should have brought more money. One skirt in particular catches her eye, and she keeps circling back to it, but it's worth a bit more than she's willing to spend on a skirt she could find a cheaper, but potentially not-as-cute version of elsewhere. Momo, several articles of clothing in hand, notices this and walks over.
She picks up the skirt, which is black and made of denim material. The ends are frayed, with several strings hanging off, and silver buttons run up the very front of the skirt. "This is adorable," Momo says, placing it in front of Momo's waist. "It's just your style."
Jirou smiles. "And what would that be?" she asks.
"Hmm, I don't know. I'm not too well versed in fashion, which is why I'm trying to go shopping more. Although I don't think I could pull of the punk look you can so well," Momo says.
"Nah, you'd look pretty badass in all-black. I think you're meant to be a goth," Jirou says, and they both laugh. "I really like this skirt, though. Too bad it's on the expensive side."
"Oh, don't worry about that! I said I'll buy you something, didn't I?" Momo says, waving her hands in dismissal.
"You don't have to do that!" Jirou exclaims.
"Of course I do. It's really not a big deal," Momo insisits. Jirou remembers the size of Momo's house and the ridiculously elegant bed taking up the majority of her room and can't help with agreeing that she has a point.
"Okay, fine. But I'll pay you back later somehow," Jirou declares.
They check out fifteen minutes later, with Momo buying over ten articles of clothing along with Jirou's skirt. Jirou pretends not to notice the total, but Momo swipes her credit card with a smile. They head towards the exit, Jirou incessantly thanking Momo, when Jirou hears a conversation from across the store.
"Um, excuse me, sir, what are you doing?"
"Oh, none of your business."
"You can't take the tags off the clothing until after you've bought them. If you want, you can ask the cashier at checkout to-"
Then a piercing shriek.
Both Jirou and Momo turn in the direction of the exclamation, along with several other people in the store, to see an employee slammed against the wall by a heavily-clothed man. The employee clutches at the hand closed around his throat, but that is not the most dangerous threat he is facing-the man's other hand appears to be made entirely out of sharp crystal. Jirou looks at Momo, who has placed the bag by her feet, an angry look in her eyes.
"We should do something," Jirou whispers, and Momo nods in agreement. "I can try to restrain him while you think of something you can make to disable him."
"Okay. Be careful," Momo says, not bothering to be quiet, because the store has grown loud with clamoring of nervous customers.
Jirou sneaks behind a clothing rack close to the man, pushing past people flooding in the opposite direction. "Please don't hurt me!" the employee begs, growing red from lack of oxygen. Jirou sends her earjacks flying at the man, wrapping around each of his arms and pulling tightly. The man gasps in pain and lets go of the employee, who runs off frantically. Jirou squeezes into his arms as deep as she can, trying to cut off circulation on the arm with the crystalline hand. The man yells, jerking his arm away. The sudden movement sends Jirou stumbling forward; she doesn't have enough time to extend her earlobes any further before he sends his hand slamming down on one of her earlobes.
His hand leaves a good gash across Jirou's earlobe, and she cries out in pain along with the realization that his hand is made of pure diamond. Blood wells up around the wound and begins running down her earlobe, which she retracts quickly, cursing. She feels panic rising in her chest as the man notices his that only one of his hands is restricted. He brings his arm back to swipe at her other ear when Momo screams "Jirou!" from across the store, distracting both of them. Jirou sees her hurl something at the man, which he doges by a centimeter. Momo rushes towards him wielding a staff in her right hand, her other hand positioned behind her back, but before she can reach him, the man grabs Jirou's earlobe and yanks her towards him, putting her in a headlock before she can react.
"I'll kill her!" the man yells, and Jirou feels his sharp hand press against her throat. She digs her heel into the top of his foot, but he doesn't move.
"Stop!" Momo shrieks, winding the arm holding the staff back.
"Momo, don't!" Jirou yells back. "He'll do it! Just save yourself!"
Thwap.
Jirou feels a rush of air pass right by her head, and immediately afterwards, the man's grip on her loosen. She looks up to see the blank stare on his face, and right below it, a dart lodged in his neck. She wriggles out of his grasp before he collapses to the floor. Jirou stares at him in utter disbelief before looking back at Momo, holding a tranquilizer gun in her left hand. Jirou rushes over to Momo, who grabs the bag off the floor and shoves the gun inside it.
"Momo, I-"
"Let's get out of here before security comes. I don't want us to be involved in this," Momo says, and Jirou nods frantically. Both of them are too frazzled to speak as they run out of the store and to the train station, and neither one of them says a word until they are seated on the train. Jirou looks at Momo, and before she can say anything, Momo hugs her tightly, letting out a long sigh. Jirou hugs her back, feeling her nerves settle down slightly.
"Thank you for saving me," Jirou. "I could have died back there if it wasn't for you."
"Of course, I had to," Momo says. Then her eyes flick downwards, noticing Jirou's bloody ear.
"Oh, shit, I forgot about that," Jirou says, grabbing her ear, wincing in pain at the touch.
"Oh, God. I can't believe he did that to you," Momo gasps, and she reaches a hand under her shirt. Jirou watches as she pulls out a roll of gauze from underneath it. She looks at Momo's eyes as she wraps the gauze around the wound.
"Thanks," Jirou says weakly.
"Don't beat yourself up," Momo says, and Jirou laughs softly. But that's what I'm best at, she thinks.
"Sorry I ruined our little shopping trip," Jirou says.
"Oh, stop! It wasn't your fault. At least now I know to never go to Kiyashi again."
"Yeah, good thing you spent your retirement savings at that store. It's probably the last time you'll ever step foot in it."
"Jirou!"
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They manage to get back to U.A. without drawing too much attention to themselves. Momo quickly explains how they went shopping, refusing to elaborate beyond the fact that someone tried to rob the store and that they escaped safely.
"Jesus, Jirou, what happened to your ear?" Kaminari says, noticing the bandage.
"Oh, nothing. I fell when I was running out of the store and cut it on a clothing rack," she lies.
"Is it okay?"
"It's okay enough to stab you," Jirou deadpans, and Kaminari backs off.
The girls sneak back to their rooms among all the commotion, stopping at Jirou's room first. Momo gives her the skirt and yawns, rubbing her eyes with her free hand.
"How about we never talk about what happened tonight?" Jirou says.
"Agreed," Momo says, and they both grin.
"I had a good time anyways. Let's fight crime together again some time, huh?" Jirou suggests jokingly.
"That's what heroes do," Momo smiles.