Unedited.

a lot more than he was willing to acknowledge. But he loved him just as much, so he pushed those needy thoughts to the back of his mind for now.

It'd been months since he'd last spoken to Katsuki in person.

During that time, Izuku visited his mother, hoping to gather his thoughts and open up to her about his feelings for his deceased father.

"Tenata told me about what happened."

Izuku stiffened. She's gonna be angry with me.

"I can't believe you ran out in the middle of the service after being called up. I'm sorry you had to go through that, Izuku."

Izuku blinked. Did Tenata alter the truth on his behalf?

Inko shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes. Izuku's chest ached. "I should've considered your feelings more. But I thought getting to know him better would be a good thing, regardless of the circumstances. I'm such a terrible parent."

"Stop." Izuku's voice was soft yet stern. "You're the best mother I could ever ask for."

His expression softened a little. "And it's fine, now that I can clear this up with you. It's been hard to deal with, but that's not because you're a bad parent. It's because he was."

Inko pursed her lips, eyeing Izuku in deep thought. "I'm still sorry. For trying to coerce you into forgiving him."

"You're the one who was most affected, but you're apologizing." Izuku laughed a little. "Even though it felt pressuring, there's no way you or Tenata could coerce me into doing anything. I hate him because of what I know, after all."

The day carried on leisurely, and Izuku spent his time with Inko by helping her cook, washing the dishes, doing the laundry, and listening to her as she ranted about her job.

He also came out to her.

Inko was surprised, to say the least. She cried, her face red with embarrassment as she praised Izuku for finding himself.

"I'm happy that you feel comfortable enough to tell me, Izuku. I'm so proud of you," she sniffled, wrapping Izuku in a warm hug.

Izuku was extremely relieved that she accepted him, and since he hadn't felt warmth in a while, he naturally began to cry too.

And eventually, he told her everything about his college experience so far. At least, most of it.

About the friends he made. About his classes. About what happened with Toga.

That... was the hardest part. Izuku hated to open up to his mother about what he'd been dealing with since he hated worrying her, but he hated lying to her even more.

As expected, that's how Katsuki became the topic of the conversation.

"But, I met this guy."

Inko's brows were raised, her lips wobbly as she tried not to cry. "Really now?"

Izuku smiled a little. "Yeah. We began dating in early November, last year. He was my poetry partner for class, so that's how we met."

Inko smiled a little. "That's sweet. What's his name?"

"Katsuki. I call him Kacchan, though."

"Ooo, nicknames!"

Izuku's face reddened. "Well, I called him that by accident and he liked it, so it kind of stuck."

"He has a nickname for me too, but it's way too embarrassing," he laughed lightly as his mother stared in slight confusion.

Izuku inhaled deeply and exhaled. "At first, I really, really disliked him. He was a massive jerk." He shook his head in thought. "But there was a reason for that. And slowly, he's been working himself through his hardships. He was the one who helped me at that party, too."

He turned to his mother completely. "He's amazing, mum. He really looks out for me. He says I've helped him, but I think he's giving me too much credit. And he's so strong, you wouldn't believe it. He reminds me of you in that way."

Inko's eyes widened.

"And I love him very much, so... one day... I want you to meet him."

Inko smiled weakly, her chest swelling with an abundance of conflicting emotions. A part of her wanted her little bundle of sunshine to stay under her protection, away from the terrible people who had tried to take advantage of him.

But she felt an overwhelming amount of happiness conquering those emotions. While her son was becoming a man and facing the world head-on, he'd found someone who could love and protect him just as much as she had.

"Of course, sweetie."

________

Violet. Blue. Green. Red.

Izuku blinked, pausing. He leaned back, inspecting his unfinished work.

He bit his lip, picking up his brush and leaning in yet again.

Violet, blue, green, red, red, red.

No, wait.

What am I even doing?

Izuku scowled. The colours weren't creating the mood he wanted, and the brushes and paint seemed to be working against him.

He hated painting almost as much as he loved it.

"Why am I even trying?" He muttered to himself, trying to quell his annoyance. "I won't win, anyway."

Ochako went ahead and signed Izuku up for the art competition for the Starlight Festival, putting way too much faith in him in the process, in Izuku's humble opinion.

Over the past month or so, Izuku had been trying to outdo himself with grand ideas that could secure him a win, but everything fell short.

The theme itself was vague.

"Influence"? What does that even mean?

Anyhow, the festival was tomorrow.

For a somewhat introverted first year, Izuku couldn't help the intense sense of nervousness he felt. The festival was a big deal. Notable names in the creative industries oftentimes attended for scouting.

With that in mind, Izuku found himself thinking of Jirou and the band. They were performing for entertainment purposes only since they were already well known on campus, but were they also hoping to catch the attention of some important people too? Either way, Izuku was rooting for them.

Putting that aside, Izuku's mind was flooded. Flooded with Katsuki, who he missed now more than ever.

It'll be fine. You'll see him at the festival. Hopefully.

Izuku hunched over, staring at the canvas in despair. He should've replied to Katsuki more while he was still sending him messages. He really wanted to.

But he wanted to grow independently, too. Without depending on someone he was so attached to.

Either way, he was feeling much better after opening up to his mother. Who knew that'd help so much?

Izuku sighed, ripping the colourful paper in front of him before discarding it and replacing it with a blank sheet.

Don't think too hard. You don't think you'll win anyway, right? Then just go with the flow. It's a win-win like Ochako said.

Izuku breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly afterward. He reached for his phone and connected it to his mini speakers, his muscles relaxing after orchestral pop music flooded the space of his room.

Red, red, red. Green, green, green.

Izuku reluctantly mixed the colours.

Yellow.

_____

It was June fourth, a Saturday afternoon.

Izuku swallowed down a large gulp of orange juice, hoping to wash down some of his crippling anxiety along with it.

He slammed the empty juice box on his study desk, crushing it mercilessly afterward.

It's finally done. I think.

Izuku had managed to whip something up for his painting, finishing the last touches the very night before the festival.

He sighed, gently picking up the piece and placing it inside his large, yellow backpack. After stuffing his underarm with his camera, Izuku clumsily exited his room.

He had an hour before the judges would come to look at the pieces of work on display. Unluckily, Izuku had overslept a bit.

He rushed down the stairs and out into the open, panting from exhaustion. With a huff, he headed across the street, sighing in relief when he caught sight of a familiar vehicle.

"You're a lifesaver, Iida."

Tenya only waved his hand dismissively.

"It's not a problem, you know that."

Ochako leaned forward from her position in the backseat, patting Izuku's shoulder reassuringly. "You might be in a bit of a rush right now, but you'll be fine."

Izuku flinched at the touch, somewhat surprised. He smiled sheepishly as Tenya started the engine. "Uraraka! Sorry, I didn't even notice that you were there–"

Ochako giggled. "That's fine, but you really should calm your nerves. Get out of your head, silly."

Izuku exhaled slowly. "You're right. I don't know why, but I'm just super anxious."

"It's understandable," Tenya pitched in, easing the car down the campus road. "Professionals in the area are coming to critique your work. You shouldn't have to overthink it though, Izuku. Your art is exceptional on its own. Validation is great but it's not the end of the world otherwise."

Izuku smiled. "Thanks, Iida."

Ochako grinned. "Yeah! You're right, Iida."

Soon enough, the trio had arrived at their destination. Izuku took a deep breath, allowing himself to relax as much as he possibly could.

Once he'd calmed himself down well enough, he exited the car, large backpack and camera in tow.

As expected, there were paintings on display at the very front of the performing arts auditorium. The competing artists were seated beside their respective works and Izuku hurried over to the area. Iida and Ochako followed.

After setting his easel and canvas up, Izuku found himself peering over at the other submissions. Unwillingly, his breathing began to knot up with anxiety yet again. He was entirely new to scrutiny from others, and his piece was pretty personal to him, so he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle any harsh criticism well.

"Hi, everyone!" A bright young person spoke up, garnering everyone's attention. Their hair was a flaming orange that contrasted nicely with their dark brown skin, and they were sporting red overalls with a black shirt underneath. "My name is Lisa Williams! My pronouns are they them, and I'm a professional artist who also teaches at the State University of New York in America. It's a pleasure to meet you all."

Another person chimed in, a male who's voice was equally bright as he made his way over to the paintings. He was dressed simply; in a t-shirt and jeans. "I'm Haruki Ito. As some of you may know, I teach here at Yuuei. It's a pleasure to meet you all!"

After exchanging polite greetings, the judges began to lay out the details of the competition.

"As you may know," Lisa began, "the theme is 'Influence'. The criteria for this competition is based on the following: interpretation of the theme, use of colours and/or texture, application of technique, and overall presentation. The winner will have their art commissioned and put on display in the State University of New York's art gallery, along with ¥40,000 worth of art supplies."

"Second place will receive ¥20,000 worth of art supplies," Haruki chimed in. "Third place will receive a ¥8,000 voucher that will allow them to pick up any school related items they may need from the university's book shop."

"Of course, we do want to strongly enforce that art is entirely subjective, and at the end of the day, this competition is made to simply support young talents such as yourselves," Lisa said, their tone sincere. "Though you should definitely seek to improve yourselves, I ask that you do not allow the opinions of others to discourage you. Your art is your child; don't beat yourselves up for creating it. Now, let's get going!"

The two judges made their way around each individual piece, and the lingering audience that'd gathered overtime watched on with interest.

And it'd taken quite a bit of time, but they'd finally gotten around to Izuku.

"Ah!" Lisa leaned in with interest, their eyes scanning over the colours thoughtfully. Haruki turned to Izuku.

"Would you like to give us some insight, Mr. Midoriya?"

Izuku inhaled deeply. "Of course."

He's red. I'm green. We're yellow.

"Someone has influenced me to tackle my demons head-on." Izuku smiled a little. "For the first time in my life, I know what it feels like to love and be loved in a non-platonic way."

"Happiness, a sense of clarity, optimism, enlightenment, honor, and loyalty," he went on. "These are the emotions and thoughts often associated with yellow, and this is what best describes the result of this person's influence in my life. The reds and greens are representative of our eye colours."

Sure enough, the reds and deep oranges of one side of the canvas bled seamlessly into the shades of green on the other side, morphing into an elegant, bright yellow butterfly.

Lisa hummed. They cocked a dark brown, smiling a little. "This person is a romantic partner, yes?"

The tips of Izuku's ears darkened. "Yes. He's my boyfriend."

Lisa's grin widened. "Gotcha."

"It's a bit too simple for me," Haruki hummed thoughtfully, and Izuku swallowed. "And the colours are vibrant, which allows for the storytelling to be clear, but I feel like they could've blended together more seamlessly."

"Ah," Izuku said, his voice faltering a little, "I understand."

"However," Lisa countered, "the simplicity holds a bit of a charm to it, don't you think? Especially when you get the full context of the intent behind it all. I dig it."

Haruki simply nodded in understanding, deep in thought.

After a few moments of extra inspection, they politely moved on to the next piece.

Izuku was quite content with the piece; it aided him in fully understanding his relationship with Katsuki. A part of him was satisfied with simply being able to show his work to other people.

Time seemed to stretch on forever as the judges made their way to the very last contestant. Finally, after an extensive wait, they came to a decision.

"Young artists," Lisa said brightly, "I am pleasantly surprised. I had been expecting to see variations of the same interpretation, but you all truly made this theme your own. There's so much promise here today, and I'm honored to be able to take part in it all."

"However, we do have our personal favourites. We'll list them off, starting from the bottom with our top four." Haruki smiled softly, pausing briefly.

"Yuta Morinozuka. Your piece represented the influence you have on your loved ones; an interesting take with an interesting choice of colours. We loved your piece, even if it didn't place in the top three."

"In third, Izuku Midoriya!"

Izuku froze. Huh.

"Your simplistic, romantic, and innocent take on our theme was both endearing and beautiful," Lisa said. "It was to the point and easy to comprehend, and yet there was so much more to understand once you gave your verbal input."

Izuku blinked in surprise. "T-thank you."

"And lastly, Shiozaki Ibara. You took this theme to an unexpectedly dark place, and it translated flawlessly. Congratulations, you're our winner today!"

There were soft, thoughtful mumurs sparking amongst different groups in the observing crowd, before an enthusiastic round of applause erupted.

Izuku smiled to himself. Not bad, Izuku. Not bad.

__________

"But really," Ochako exclaimed, her brown doe eyes large with admiration, "I'm so proud of you, Izuku!"

Mina hummed in agreement, nodding enthusiastically. The brown skinned, pink haired beauty had been hanging out with their little group ever since the art competition ended, which was about two hours ago. Since then, they'd been buying junk food and alcohol while looking at different mini events and displays that were littered throughout the campus.

Luckily for Izuku, he hadn't had to carry his heavy art supplies everywhere they went. Tenya had stayed behind, opting to park there and observe other competitions instead.

The sky was beginning to darken, welcoming the evening.

"This is why you shouldn't doubt yourself!" Mina exclaimed, slurring a little. She'd gotten a little drunk. Izuku shrugged sheepishly.

"But–"

"Imagine if you'd gotten more time to prepare!" Ochako said thoughtfully. "You'd probably come first place!"

Izuku snorted. "Sure."

"By the way, is Bakugou's band performing in the music competition?" Ochako let the question sit openly in the air– both Mina and Izuku were privy to having that knowledge about the band, anyway.

"Nah, they already won last year. They kind of just want to build a separate name for themselves now," Mina informed.

Izuku blinked. "They're...they're gonna be here, right?"

Mina smiled knowingly, her lids a little low. She was definitely out of it. "Yeah, they'll be on in an hour I think. We can make our way back to Iida for your stuff and go watch them, okay? It's better to watch in the front, anyway."

Izuku nodded and Ochako grinned. "Okay, let's head back."

After a solid fifteen minute walk, Izuku made his way over to his art display, frowning when he noticed something.

Iida's car wasn't there.

"Where's–" Ochako began, but the ringing of her phone interrupted her sentence. She pulled the device out of her pocket, holding it to her ear. "Iida?"

In the distance, Izuku heard a faint thump over the large speakers, along with a few stray guitar notes. "Mic check."

Ochako breathed a laugh, still holding the phone to her ear. "Oh, okay. No, we just got back. It's fine. We'll meet you there when you're ready."

"Good evening, Yueei!"

Mina turned around sharply. "Oh! Oh! That's Jirou! They're about to go on!"

Surely enough, it was Jirou, all in her purple haired, alternative princess esque glory.

Behind her was the band, those of which Izuku couldn't see clearly– Yaoyorozu, Shinsou, Tokoyami, Kaminari, and Katsuki.

Ochako hung up her phone, ending her conversation with Iida. "Okay guys, Iida had to move his car because he was trapping another driver. He asked the security guard to guard your painting and left, Izuku." She laughed a little. "Anyway, he went to pick up something from his dorm, so we can wait here for now til he calls back."

Jirou's voice reverberated through the speakers yet again. "It's good to be here. We are Collide! Tonight we'll be performing a few songs for you guys. This one is called All My Friends!"

The rapidly growing crowd cheered on enthusiastically. Izuku's eyebrows shot up. They seem fairly popular.

"The concert's about to start," Izuku said, peering up at the somewhat distant stage. It wasn't very far; just a solid five minute walk, maybe. "Let's move up before the crowd gets too thick."

A burst of music cut through the air as the band's first song began. The drumming was infectiously erratic, and Izuku's breath hitched. That was Katsuki, wasn't it? Only Katsuki had those drumming skills, after all.

Jirou began to sing, her raspy tenor commanding all attention.

"All my friends are gloriously pessimistic,

And hyper realistic, oh!

All my friends are absolutely negative,

And filled with liberosis, oh!"

Izuku reached for his easel distractedly, packing it away into his bag with much struggle. Ochako giggled.

Jirou got around to the chorus, which was more or less shouty and a lot more raspy in comparison.