I stepped out of Camie's shower, toweling off my hair as steam billowed around me. The bathroom mirror had fogged completely, leaving only a vague green-haired silhouette where my reflection should have been. My phone buzzed from its perch on the sink counter.
"Izu! Your phone's blowing up!" Camie called from the bedroom.
"Coming!" I wrapped the towel around my waist and grabbed my phone.
The screen showed seventeen notifications from "The Boyz" group chat—Kirishima's brainchild, complete with a deliberately misspelled name and an emoji-laden group picture. I scrolled through the messages as I walked into the bedroom.
Camie sat cross-legged on her bed, dressed in a silky lavender camisole and matching shorts. She'd gathered her blonde waves into a messy bun atop her head, with a few strands escaping to frame her face. Her skin glowed in the warm lamplight, fresh from her own shower.
"The guys are going nuts in the group chat," I said, sitting beside her on the bed.
She leaned against my shoulder, peering at my phone. "What's the drama?"
"Kirishima managed to book Rental Space Shibuya AGURA for tonight. From six to two in the morning."
"Fancy." She tilted her head. "That's the one with the private theater room and game lounge, right?"
I nodded, still scrolling through messages. "Looks like they're arguing about who brings what."
Kirishima: GUYS!! GOT THE SPOT! TONIGHT'S GONNA BE SO MANLY!!
Kaminari: YOOOOOOOOOOOO
Sero: How'd you swing that? Those places book out months in advance!
Kirishima: My cousin works there! Called in a MANLY FAVOR!
Manga: EPIC QUEST LOCATION ACQUIRED!
Aoyama: Magnifique! A venue worthy of my sparkle!
Tokoyami: The revelry in the dark begins.
Bakugo: Whatever. Who's bringing food?
Mineta: I can bring the "entertainment" if you know what I mean...
Kirishima: NO! None of that! This is about cheering up our friend!
Iida: I appreciate the sentiment, but please don't feel obligated on my account.
Sero: Too late! Operation Cheer Up Iida is a go!
Kaminari: I'll bring my Switch and Mario Kart!
Manga: FIGHTING GAMES! SMASH BROS!
Bakugo: I'll bring some good controllers so none of you extras blame your losses on equipment.
Mineta: Fine, I'll bring chips and stuff. My mom made cookies too.
Aoyama: I shall provide the refreshments! Sparkling, of course!
Tokoyami: I will bring darkness and despair. Also pizza.
Kirishima: @Midoriya you in?
Sero: @Midoriya don't leave us on read bro
Kaminari: @Midoriya DUDE
I typed a quick response: Just saw this. I'm in. What should I bring?
The replies came immediately:
Kirishima: YESSS! THE SQUAD IS COMPLETE!
Manga: BRING THE SAUCE! (meaning dips, not alcohol!)
Iida: I appreciate the clarification!
Kaminari: Bring those spicy chips you had at lunch yesterday!
I smiled, setting the phone down to get dressed. I pulled clean clothes from my overnight bag—dark jeans, a fitted black t-shirt, and a forest green button-up to layer over it.
"So, boys' night?" Camie asked, watching me dress with appreciative eyes.
"Yeah. For Iida. He's been through a lot with his brother."
She nodded, reaching for her own phone. "That's sweet. Mina just texted me, actually. The girls caught wind of your little man-fest and decided to have their own sleepover at Yaomomo's."
"Sounds fun. Her place is huge, right?"
"Supposedly." Camie stretched, the movement causing her camisole to ride up slightly, revealing a strip of toned stomach. "She's got an actual home theater, a pool, everything."
I buttoned my shirt, leaving the top two buttons undone. "You'll have a good time."
"Mmm." She stood, crossing to where I stood. Her fingers straightened my collar, lingering against my neck. "You clean up nice, Izu."
"Thanks." I caught her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "You look beautiful."
A soft smile played on her lips. "Even without the fancy underwear and makeup?"
"Of course." I pulled her closer, one hand settling at the small of her back. "Though I appreciate those too."
She laughed, rising on tiptoes to kiss me. "Such a gentleman." She pulled back, eyes twinkling. "Now go have fun with your bros. Try not to talk about us girls too much."
"No promises." I grabbed my phone and wallet. "What time are you heading to Yaomomo's?"
"Seven. Kyoka's picking me up." She walked me to the door, hips swaying subtly. "Text me when you get there?"
"Always do."
One last kiss, and I was out the door.
***
The Rental Space Shibuya AGURA occupied the top two floors of a sleek building in the heart of Shibuya. When I arrived at 6:30, most of the guys were already there, sprawled across couches in the main lounge area.
"Midoriya!" Kirishima spotted me first, his spiky red hair even more dramatic than usual. He bounded over, clapping me on the shoulder. "You made it!"
"Wouldn't miss it." I held up two shopping bags. "Brought chips, dips, and some sodas."
"Perfect!" He led me into the space, which was even more impressive than I'd imagined. The main lounge featured plush couches arranged around a massive TV, with a kitchenette to one side. Beyond that, I could see a private theater room and a separate game area with multiple consoles set up.
Manga rushed over, his speech bubble face displaying "REINFORCEMENTS HAVE ARRIVED!" in bold comic font. He took the bags from me, immediately diving into their contents.
"Midoriya," Iida greeted me with a sharp nod, his posture rigid even in casual clothes. "Thank you for coming."
"Of course." I studied him carefully. Though he maintained his usual formal demeanor, shadows lingered beneath his eyes, and tension lined his mouth. "How are you holding up?"
"I am... managing." His voice dropped slightly. "My brother sends his regards."
Before I could respond, Kaminari bounded over. "Midoriya! Thank god you're here. Bakugo's been threatening to blow up the game console if we don't start soon."
I glanced over at Bakugo, who scowled from his position on the far end of the couch. "I said I'd blow up Pikachu if he didn't stop whining, not the console."
"Same difference!" Kaminari protested.
Sero laughed, his tape-dispenser elbows resting on the back of the couch. "Let's eat first. Tokoyami ordered enough pizza to feed an army."
"A revelation requires proper sustenance," Tokoyami intoned from a shadowy corner, his bird-like head nodding solemnly.
Aoyama twirled dramatically, sparkles seemingly emanating from his very being. "I have brought le champagne!" He held up several bottles of sparkling cider. "Non-alcoholic, of course. We are heroes, after all!"
Mineta emerged from the kitchenette, arms laden with napkins and paper plates. "Food's all set up. Mom's cookies are on the counter."
I helped arrange the food on the central coffee table—pizzas of various toppings, chips, dips, cookies, and an assortment of drinks. Once everything was ready, we gathered around, plates in hand.
"Before we begin," Iida announced, standing tall, "I would like to express my gratitude for this gathering. Your support during this difficult time has been..." His voice wavered slightly. "Most appreciated."
"That's what friends do," Kirishima said simply, his sharp teeth gleaming in a sincere smile.
"Yeah, even if some of us aren't exactly friends," Sero added, nudging Bakugo with his elbow.
Bakugo snorted. "Speak for yourself, Tape Arms."
We dug into the food, conversation flowing easily between bites. I found myself between Tokoyami and Mineta, the latter surprisingly subdued.
"These cookies are really good," I said to Mineta, trying to draw him into the conversation.
He perked up. "My mom's recipe. She adds orange zest to the chocolate chip ones."
"That's the secret ingredient?" Kaminari asked through a mouthful. "They're amazing."
"Yeah, she lets me help sometimes. Baking's actually pretty fun."
I raised an eyebrow. This side of Mineta—normal, almost likeable—rarely made an appearance at school.
"You should bring these to class sometime," I suggested.
"Maybe." He shrugged, then lowered his voice. "People don't really take me seriously, though."
Before I could respond, Bakugo called out from across the table: "That's because you're always being a perverted little shit."
Mineta flinched.
"He's not wrong," Sero said, though his tone lacked Bakugo's harshness. "You're actually pretty cool when you're not, you know..."
"Objectifying our female classmates?" Iida supplied.
Mineta looked down at his plate. "It's just... I don't know how else to talk to girls."
"You could try treating them like people," I suggested quietly.
"Like how you talk to us," Kirishima added. "Just normal, you know?"
Mineta seemed to consider this. "I guess I could try."
"Enough feelings talk," Bakugo growled, standing abruptly. "Who's ready to get destroyed in Smash?"
The moment passed as we transitioned to the game area. Manga set up the Switch while Kaminari distributed controllers.
"Teams or free-for-all?" Sero asked.
"Teams," Kirishima decided. "More manly to fight alongside your bros!"
We divided into pairs: Bakugo with Kirishima, Kaminari with Sero, Iida with Aoyama, Tokoyami with Manga, and me with Mineta.
What followed was two hours of increasingly competitive gaming, complete with trash talk, victory dances, and Bakugo's creative threats. To everyone's surprise, Mineta proved to be an excellent Smash player, his quick reflexes and strategic thinking making us a formidable team.
"How are you this good?" I asked after we secured another victory.
He grinned, a normal, non-lecherous smile that transformed his face. "I play online a lot. Not much else to do when you're my height and look like this."
Something about his candid response made the other guys pause.
"Dude, why can't you be like this all the time?" Kaminari asked. "You're actually pretty cool right now."
Mineta shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. "I don't know. At school, I feel like I need a gimmick or something. Otherwise, who'd notice me?"
"We'd notice you for being good at stuff," Kirishima said. "Like gaming. Or those cookies. Or your grades, which are way better than mine."
"And your quirk is actually pretty versatile," I added. "You could do a lot with it besides the obvious trap applications."
Mineta looked genuinely surprised. "You think so?"
"I know so." I handed him my controller. "Now show Bakugo how it's done. He's been talking too much shit."
"Bring it, Grape Face," Bakugo challenged, but his usual venom seemed muted.
After gaming, we moved to the theater room to watch a new hero movie that had just been released for streaming. The film, about an underground group of vigilantes fighting a quirk-stealing villain, kept everyone engaged—even Bakugo, who only criticized the fight choreography three times instead of his usual dozen.
Halfway through, Iida excused himself for air. I waited a few minutes, then followed, finding him on the building's rooftop terrace, staring out at the Shibuya skyline.
"Beautiful view," I said, joining him at the railing.
He nodded stiffly. "I often find urban landscapes calming. The organization, the purpose. Everything has its place."
I let silence stretch between us, giving him space to speak when ready.
"Midoriya," he finally said, his voice unusually soft. "May I ask your counsel on a matter of some... delicacy?"
"Of course."
His hands gripped the railing, knuckles whitening. "The Hero Killer. Stain. He's still out there."
I tensed, instantly understanding the direction of this conversation.
"My brother may never walk again." Iida's voice remained controlled, but barely. "The doctors say his hero career is over. Everything he worked for, everything he built... gone in an instant."
"I'm sorry, Iida."
"The police have no leads. Stain vanished after the attack. He could be anywhere, preparing to strike again." Iida turned to face me, his eyes burning with an intensity I'd never seen before. "I've been researching him. His patterns, his targets. I believe I could—"
"Iida," I interrupted gently. "What exactly are you considering?"
He looked away. "I want him to pay for what he did to my brother. For what he's done to all his victims."
"As a hero or as a vigilante?"
His silence answered for him.
I sighed, leaning against the railing. The city lights blurred below us, a sea of colors against the night sky. "You asked for my counsel because you think I have the heart of a true hero, right?"
He nodded.
"The truth is, I don't know what I'd do in your position." I met his gaze directly. "If someone hurt my mother like that... I can't honestly say I wouldn't want revenge."
Surprise flickered across his face. "But you—"
"I'd like to think I'd stay on the hero path," I continued. "That I'd trust the system and let justice take its course. But I understand the rage you're feeling, Iida. The helplessness."
He swallowed hard. "How do I move forward from this?"
"With help." I placed a hand on his shoulder. "If I ever found myself at that crossroads, I'd want friends to pull me back from the edge. People who understood my pain but wouldn't let me lose myself to it."
"Like tonight," he said quietly. "This gathering."
"Exactly. None of us can be heroes alone, Iida. That's not weakness—it's reality."
He took a deep breath, his rigid posture softening slightly. "My brother said something similar. That heroes who stand alone eventually fall alone."
"Smart guy, your brother."
"Yes." Iida adjusted his glasses, a habitual gesture that seemed to help him gather his thoughts. "Perhaps the most heroic thing I can do now is continue that path—not abandon it for revenge."
"Whatever you decide, you don't have to decide alone." I straightened up. "That's what friends are for, right?"
"Indeed." He extended his hand, formal as ever. "Thank you, Midoriya."
I ignored the hand and pulled him into a quick hug instead. "Anytime."
When we returned to the theater room, the movie was reaching its climax. We slipped back into our seats, Iida noticeably more relaxed than before.
After the film ended, the night transitioned into what Kirishima called "real talk hours"—conversations that grew increasingly honest as midnight approached. Sprawled across couches and floor cushions, guard slowly lowering, each of us shared pieces of ourselves rarely seen at school.
Kaminari spoke about his fears of losing control of his quirk completely. "Sometimes I wonder if one day I'll just fry my brain for good."
Tokoyami revealed his struggles with Dark Shadow's growing power. "The darkness within me hungers. Each day, maintaining balance becomes more challenging."
Aoyama, surprisingly subdued, mentioned his constant stomach pain. "The sparkle comes with a price, mes amis."
Even Bakugo contributed, though reluctantly. "My parents expect perfect control. Anything less is failure."
When my turn came, I spoke carefully. "Before UA, I never had friends. Not real ones. I was always the odd one out—the one everyone else defined themselves against."
"Because you're quirkless?" Manga's speech bubble asked.
I nodded. "It made me an easy target."
"That's messed up," Sero said.
"Yeah, well." I shrugged. "It taught me to stand on my own. But being at UA, having actual friends... it's better."
"Even though some of those friends used to be jerks?" Kirishima asked, glancing at Bakugo.
Bakugo scowled but didn't dispute the characterization.
"People change," I said simply. "Or they show different sides of themselves when given the chance." I looked pointedly at Mineta, who had been quietly attentive all evening.
He caught my gaze and gave a small nod of acknowledgment.
As the night progressed, we moved back to gaming, this time with less competitive edge and more collaborative play. Around one in the morning, Iida surprised everyone by suggesting we try the karaoke machine in the corner of the lounge.
"Seriously?" Kaminari looked delighted. "Emergency Exit wants to sing?"
"My brother always said music heals the soul," Iida explained, a touch embarrassed. "And I believe we could all use some healing."
What followed was simultaneously the most horrific and hilarious hour of the night. Bakugo, surprisingly, had a decent voice but refused to sing anything but aggressive rock songs. Aoyama performed dramatic renditions of French pop songs no one recognized. Tokoyami chose gothic metal that made Dark Shadow emerge to headbang along.
Kirishima and Kaminari performed an enthusiastic if pitchy duet of a popular hero theme song, complete with choreography. Sero and Manga followed with an equally energetic boy band number.
When my turn came, I chose an old All Might commercial jingle that everyone knew. Soon all nine of us were shouting the lyrics, arms around shoulders, hero poses included.
Even Iida joined in, his usually precise movements giving way to genuine, unguarded laughter.
By two o'clock, as our time at the rental space ended, a transformation had occurred. We were no longer just classmates or casual acquaintances—something stronger had formed. Not just friendship, but understanding. The kind that comes from seeing beneath each other's surfaces.
As we gathered our things, Iida addressed the group. "I wish to thank you all. Tonight has been..." He paused, searching for words. "More meaningful than I can express."
"That's what bros are for," Kirishima said, throwing an arm around Iida's shoulders.
"Yeah, don't make it weird, Four-Eyes," Bakugo added, but his usual hostility was missing.
"Should we make this a regular thing?" Sero suggested. "Monthly boys' night?"
"YES!" Manga's speech bubble practically sparkled with enthusiasm.
"I would enjoy that," Tokoyami agreed.
"As long as I get to pick the music next time," Kaminari added.
"I'll bring more cookies," Mineta offered.
"And I'll bring my expertise in setting the ambiance," Aoyama declared.
I caught Iida's eye across the room and saw something I hadn't seen since his brother's attack: hope.
"Next month, then," I said. "Same group, different venue."
As we filed out of the rental space, I checked my phone. A text from Camie waited:
Girls' night epic. Got Yaomomo to try jello shots (virgin ones). Hope boys night was therapeutic. Miss your face.
I smiled, typing back: Miss yours too. Boys night successful. Made progress with Iida. And you won't believe this, but Mineta was actually cool.
Her reply came seconds later: Pics or it didn't happen
I laughed softly, pocketing my phone as we stepped into the cool night air. Above us, stars peeked through Tokyo's light pollution, distant but present.
Just like the best parts of ourselves, I thought. Sometimes hidden, but always there when needed most.