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elmundodeflor · 2 years

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Okay so I saw this and just couldn’t resist from writing some headcanons about my favourite dorks being musicians.

As a musician myself, music has literally changed my life and shaped who I am. So, some of these ideas may or may not be based on a true story (those who know, know). Also, I may turn this into a multichap fic in the future. But for now, I needed to get this off my chest.

-Levi came from a small rural town to live his best life and study in the big city. Him and Hanji first meet at a local music college.

-Levi is a singer, but Hanji couldn’t sing to save their life. So, after struggling to get some of their homework done, Mike, a mutual friend, introduces them to Levi, who’s very naturally skilled. Hanji is obviously fascinated with him from the get go, and tries to convince him to give them a few lessons so they don’t fail their upcoming exams. Levi isn’t too excited with the idea at first, but Hanji is very charming, so he accepts anyways.

-The first lessons are a little awkward and silent. They first see eachother after classes, studying together inside empty classrooms, sometimes even in the college’s hallways.

-One day, Hanji invites Levi for a drink after one of their study sessions. They have some spare time in between classes and go to a nearby park. It’s warm and sunny and they sit under the comfort of a big tree, sharing cookies and a bottle of sugary orange juice. They ask eachother questions, trying to get to know eachother better. They realize they have more in common than they thought, that they are actually comfortable around eachother. Lessons stop being that awkward from then on.

-Summer is just around the corner and, one night, a show producer finds Levi’s social media. They ask him to perform at a pub, but Levi has no band. He first thinks of Hanji and asks them to play with him. Hanji accepts almost instantly and, the next day, the band is already formed.

-Eren plays guitar and Jean joins in on the bass. They’re both freshmen at college, Eren being Hanji’s younger brother. Jean is Eren’s eternal rival but most loyal sidekick. He wants to be on the band, too, because he heard somewhere that it would make him popular with the girls. It doesn’t exactly work like that, tho.

-The first gig is a complete success and, after that, more and more start coming up. Mike and Erwin try to help them organize their show-schedule and are always there cheering in the crowd, drink in hand. Sometimes they show up at their chaotic rehearsals, too.

-Rehearsals are always pretty much at one of the college’s classrooms, sometimes with borrowed instruments even. Hanji and Levi usually hang out together after; they go for ice-cream or coffee, or just lay down in the grass at their usual favorite nearby park. They grow closer and closer and closer, so close they think of eachother as best friends.

-A whole year goes by, and the band is doing great. They play every weekend at different bars, get free pizza and have gathered a little following that loves them. One night, even, Hanji’s parents go for support. Once the show is over, all they can tell them is “seems like Levi couldn’t take his eyes off of you”. Hanji let’s it slide. After all, he’s their best friend, right?

-December comes around, and then Levi learns one of his closest friends back from his hometown is sick with leukemia. Hanji’s grandfather gets diagnosed with terminal cancer at the same time. Grief and sadness and fear brings them closer together once more. They both bond through their grief, comfort eachother with a sympathy that only comes with deep understanding. Meetings at the park become almost a routine, hanging out after classes is almost natural instinct.

-The month after, Levi’s friend passes, as Hanji’s grandfather. Levi has to fly back to his hometown, Hanji stays all alone in the big city. They can’t be there for eachother through their loved one’s funerals. They exchange nice empty words over text message, but nothing more than that.

-Their vacations are spent separately, each one trying their best to keep it together through their pain. Once they come back for the school year and pick up the band again, it’s like something’s changed: Levi has fallen in love. He can’t deny it anymore. He has feelings for Hanji.

-Hanji’s too busy to even notice it, however. So Levi tries to keep his crush hidden and in the dark, to push it to the side. They keep playing gigs together, having the best time. Everybody in college thinks they are dating, or that they’ll eventually end up together. Some even say it to their faces.

-Hanji doesn’t wanna admit it, not even to themselves. They try to keep themselves in motion, and start hanging out with Zeke, another guitarist from their class. They really like him, and Levi is very obviously jealous.

-There’s some tension in the band, and so they go on a break for a month or so. Levi tries to stay away from Hanji as they grow close to Zeke, tries to get them out of his head unsuccessful. Hanji seems happy, he doesn’t wanna ruin that.

-One night, after a masterclass in college, Hanji decides they’re finally gonna confess and ask Zeke out on a date. They try to reach out to him in the darkness of the dim auditorium, with the words hanging from the tip of their tongue, but Zeke goes out of sight and rans to his car before they can say anything to him. Next thing Hanji knows, Zeke’s out on a bar with his ex-girlfriend. They get home completely heartbroken.

-”Why have you never thought of Levi?”, is the first thing Eren asks them when he opens the door. It’s two in the morning and Hanji’s crying in his bedroom. “It’s very clear he likes you”. “He does?”, Hanji asks, completely oblivious. Eren rolls his eyes, as if anyone with two braincells could have noticed it from a mile away. That's all Hanji needs to know.

-The band comes back together then, and things seem to be getting better again. Hanji starts noticing small things about Levi: the way he looks at them when they play, how he’s so patient and gentle with them, how kind he had always been. Suddenly, before they can even know it, they start asking themselves questions. The answer is the feelings are mutual. After so long. They love Levi, too.

-It’s October. and there’s a big gig settled. Jean and Eren had backed out last minute, and Hanji offered to play a little guitar to accompany Levi. The air is warm and smells like spring when they get to the theater. The only problem is, it’s shut down completely. Levi calls Erwin, who also calls the show’s producer. They tell them the show had been cancelled and that they forgot to warn them in advance, so both him and Hanji decide to hang out by a mall close to the area, just to kill some time.

-They walk through the mall over and over until they’ve seen everything at least three times. Hanji suggests they should go to a nice park nearby and, as always, Levi follows. Maybe, because parks have something nice about them. Maybe, because he just wants to be with Hanji a little longer.

-They buy cookies and orange juice, just like the old times, and sit on one of the benches, far away from the rest of the world. They chat for hours and hours, until darkness paints the afternoon sky and words start getting personal. They talk about sex and love and heartbreak and fears and life and death and grief. They talk until Hanji’s voice breaks with emotion and Levi hugs them close to his chest. They talk until Hanji cries tucked in his arms and Levi kisses their forehead, so tender Hanji doesn’t want to pull away. So lovingly Hanji wants to kiss him on the lips.

-It’s one in the morning, and a police officer tells them politely that they should return home, that it got too late. They get up from their spot in the park bench, and Levi takes Hanji home. They say goodbye with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and Hanji watches Levi take the bus to his own apartment.

-When he’s finally out of sight, they sigh and walk to their building; their heart beating fast inside their chest. They are a hundred percent sure now: they are deeply in love with him.

Okay I had to cut it short because I could go on over this foreverrr lmao. Let me know if you liked this or if you'd want me to continue! And if you read this whole thing up until this point, thank youuu <333

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #levi #hange #hanji #headcanon #levihan headcanon #based on true events #inspired by official art #rockstar levihan gives me the chills #musicians #music #love story #shingeki no kyojin #snk #attack on titan #aot

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hiraya-sa-dilim · 4 years

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Sleepwalk ch. 1: Momo, September 5

Tokyoite Yaoyorozu Momo and proxy shrine priestess Todoroki Shouto believe life is but a dream until the day they don't. As they sleepwalk the tightrope of one another's realities—involving brothers and co-workers, rock bands and wrist bands, and all the threads that bind us—they come closer to meeting their true selves and hopefully, inevitably, each other. Your Name x BNHA. Ongoing multichap. Rated T for language and themes.

Read here, ff.net, or ao3.

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A/N: I can’t write realistic dialect yet but characters who don’t use contractions have never lived in Tokyo.

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September 5, Morning

Dreams are odd.

He read somewhere that they were just memories of the things we've seen for the day settling down into our brains and mixing with the rest of our older, worner recollections. Like paint on a pallet. Dyes in hot water. And because we like to overreact, blow things out of proportion, the memories, once tainted and impure swirl faster and faster, taking more of the things they are not until our muddled minds are full to the brim with a familiar, surreal solution, so full it is all we could think of, and all we are until morning light takes up its space. Dreams.

Todoroki Shouto was dreaming.

His wife was pregnant. He didn't have one in real life, of course. He was watching her fold paper crane upon paper crane on the sofa in their sala. Said it calmed her nerves. She hummed a song she didn't know when they first met, but one he taught her on nights he was homesick for a certain smell of trees he was never going to inhale ever again. She would sing it when she knew he felt alone. She would sing it when she was feeling happy.

He was further from alone than he had ever been.

Their child was fast asleep on his lap. He made his first wish today, after Shouto taught him how to properly snap disposable chopsticks in half. When he said dreams came true sooner when you took a nap after making one so that his wife could have a few more hours of rest all for herself, the four-year-old obediently crawled into his embrace, wide-eyed, and slept.

Shouto will do the dishes tomorrow. Now, his wife was asking for their son. He laid him on her lap, next to her swollen belly, his sibling. She asked one more thing of Shouto and he kissed her.

He lit a fire and they use the cranes for kindling.

The fire they build upon their wishes spark in the colors of a disturbed atmosphere, the ripples of space folding in upon itself. Paint on a pallet. Dye in hot water.

He knew he had had this dream before, had lost this dream a thousand mornings before this moment. But every time he got to this point, next to her, looking into her eyes as she opened her mouth to call his name, he knew for certain that this time, surely this time, he wasn't going to wake up, and he wasn't going to forget.

Shouto...

Shouto.

Hey, Shouto.

Shouto! Come on, sweet cheeks, nii-san's leaving.

It was one, two, four, seven gentle slaps on both cheeks that has her open her eyes to the six o' clock sun. They latched on immediately to the grey ones of an older blond man who was now smiling down at her.

"Good. You're awake. Didn't sleep well last night?"

"I was reading..."

"Of course you were, sweet cheeks. Well, I'm off. Don't overwork yourself next time, okay? Let's have breakfast together when I come back. Love ya!"

There was nothing familiar about the man nor menacing. He kissed Momo on the forehead and she thought it's nice to have other kids in the house.

Only...

This wasn't her house.

The posters on the concrete walls were missing, and her bookshelves, and her desk, and the door to her walk-in closet, and her everything. The smell of breakfast was in the air when it wasn't even supposed to be able to trespass the second floor. At least the ceiling was as far as she remembered... but the Swarovski crystal chandelier was nowhere to be found, instead replaced by a plain fluorescent bar. A quick roll of her head to the right revealed she had been sleeping on the floor.

"Nee-chan, Obaa-san!" the voice calls from somewhere she can't see, "I'm off!"

Momo had no sisters or brothers and she didn't live with her grandmother. She didn't sleep on a futon when the option of a goose feathers mattress was available. She certainly didn't sleep with the sliding windows open, painting a picture-perfect view of a countryside wiping the last of sleep from its puffy sky-blue eyes. She didn't have a sliding window, period—what she had were sliding glass doors to lock during her absence and at sunset, and dark drapes to block out the sleepless city lights.

A breeze flew in and the warmth her blanket emitted smells different. She felt different, like her body weight had decided to redistribute itself to places she normally wouldn't think about, and the hands that raise themselves to rub at her eyes were large and fair, rough at the finger pads and palms, and veiny at the back.

On top of everything, her bladder felt like it was about to burst.

For all her practicality, Momo knew magic when she saw it. Or liked to think she would, never having actually experienced anything. If this were a dream, she would have waken from the shock ages ago and even if she didn't, she was determined to stay in a world where a mountain watched over people's open houses while they sleep for as long as she could. It's not like she would lose time back in her real life anyway, or the... body... she was born into. Hopefully.

Shit.

"W-wait! O-onii-san!"

Oh god, she sounded like a pubescent boy. Something like the voice Kaminari-san assumes whenever he tried to talk with Jirou, the one that automatically insured his failure. It rang in her ears like an unwelcome voice track in her headphones except she wasn't wearing any and god she really needed to take a piss. Momo resolved to ignore how this voice sounded for now.

It was hard running with a body one wasn't used to using and even more har... awkward when that body happened to be made up of pieces she never dreamed of owning. Too distracted to take in how alien this house looked to the mansion she grew up in, Momo thanked her lucky stars to find that it's small, simple and easy to navigate, and soon she was face to face with the man she assumed was her brother.

This person's brother, she corrects herself. Shouto's. "O-onii-san..."

"Sweet cheeks, you need anything? I got... ten minutes to spare. Should be enough time to get to the station before the train leaves. Don't worry, I won't forget your takeout later."

"Um."

Momo sucked in a breath but even that felt weird. Focus. You need to make it through today as normally as this person would. To enjoy it. Bear this for your holiday, Yaoyorozu! It's such a small price for 18 hours ahead at the countryside! "Um, you are my big brother, right? Because we, we live in the same house... I guess..."

The brother raised an eyebrow and laughed after taking a good look at her. "Only on weekends and holidays, Shouto. Heh, are you sure you should be running around already? You don't sound fully awake yet."

"R-right! I think. But you are..."

"Your nii-san always and forever, yes."

"Thank god." Momo tries to steady herself, hands on her... or his... knees. It's okay. He won't think it's weird. "That means I trust you, right? The owner of this bod... I mean, I trust you, right? And you care for my wellbeing and you wouldn't hurt me, right?"

The man—could she call him that yet? He looked about two, three years older than her—gave her a look she's sure she'd assume too if she had a sister who came up to her spouting everything about their relationship they've already been aware of since her first moment of consciousness. "That's... a given since day one, my only little brother. Man, that must have been a long dream you were having. I'm Natsuo and I'm your second oldest brother. You're Shouto, the youngest of us four. Fuyumi-neechan's our only sister and eldest sibling, she's having breakfast with Obaa-san in the kitchen. Otou-san's... well, you know how he is. I'm off to my uni and am running kinda late. Are you feeling a little less disoriented now?"

No, but I process information quickly so I'll work on this once we're done. "Then... N-Natsuo-nii-san, please..." Momo straightened, put her hands down her front, remembered she was now male, adjusted them to the side and bows. "Please teach me how to pee, Onii-san!"

...

Fuyumi-neechan is blond like her brother, so blond that her hair is almost white. She had red highlights here and there but Momo started to think it might be natural after giving herself—or her body—a good long look in the mirror. She thought Todoroki Shouto must be a punk at first but was now almost entirely sure that the red and white of his hair were not the products of an extravagant trip to the salon. A birthmark and sectoral heterochromia, she noted. Ashido-san would absolutely adore this boy.

When she asked Fuyumi-san if they could perhaps go to school together so that she didn't get lost, the much shorter woman laughed and said the daycare is in the opposite direction from high school. "But don't worry, Tenya-kun always picks you up. If he's feeling lost too, I'm sure Izuku-kun could find the way for all of you once he joins your party. Besides, I usually leave sooner since I practically open the building. If you still feel bad after breakfast, leave the chores, okay? I'll do them when I get back. If Obaa-san doesn't beat us to it." Of course, Momo swept the floor and tidied the supplies used for making breakfast, mildly ashamed of herself without knowing why exactly.

Tenya-kun turned out to be a much taller boy with a square face, square shoulders and square, almost shining glasses. Momo instantly thought he's the reliable type, probably a class president like herself. She imagined they'd make a good pair walking together: an upright boy with an undercut and a military stride, and an odd one who looked like a model sans the catwalk and swagger. "You look like you are in a daze today, Shouto. Did you get enough sleep last night? It is not right to be staying up late, especially with the exams coming up."

"I was reading. Probably a bad move, huh?"

"Unless it was something academic?"

"Uh-uh. It was an anthology..."

"Really? I am surprised, Shouto. You never seemed to be the type to like fiction."

"Is that so? Er, just trying something out."

"Again, you surprise me. 'Trying something out.' You seem like a new man today, Shouto."

He smiled. Momo decided she liked him. "Um, the story I read last night was about a man who's surprised when his friends start asking him about his first girlfriend because they recently saw her. But the truth is, he only made her up to show off to them when they were highschoolers..."

Izuku-kun was shorter than Momo—Todoroki-san—but his mossy explosion of frizz reaching up to the heavens gave him the illusion of additional height. His smile was a warm thing that suits the vastness of the countryside skies and Momo found herself drawn to him. "Your brother told me to watch out for you today, when he passed by our house," he greeted Momo. "Said you might need it for some reason."

"He has been looking at everything as if with fresh eyes this whole morning, Izuku. Almost fell into the rice paddies near Wheel's Creek while staring up at the birds."

"Ah. That was what Natsuo-senpai meant then?"

"Thanks for grabbing my shirt again, Tenya-kun. And, yes, I guess that's what Natsuo-san- onii-san meant."

"Kun? Heehee, how cute, Shouto. Oh, I had a dream about you last night. You moved to Tokyo to work in a fancy restaurant with an older boy with really deep eyebags."

"R-really..."

"How strange, Izuku," Tenya observed before Momo could finish swallowing her spit. "Could you perhaps be predicting the future?"

"I am not sure cause there was a girl in our high school uniform walking with us to class in his place. She had dark hair in a high ponytail and she kept folding tiny paper cranes as we went though I could not see where the paper was coming from. She did it so fast, it was like they were just falling from within the palm of her hands."

"Paper cranes... perhaps she was wishing for something."

"I thought so too. I was about to ask her but I woke up. I knew we were close to her the way we are close to you, Shouto, though none of us have ever met her. What do you think? Why had she been folding paper cranes? And what were you doing in Tokyo?"

Momo stared at the school building up ahead, wishing to gods that the bell rings or some other distraction occurred. What was I doing in Tokyo? I live there. The boy with deep eyebags is all my, our co-worker ever talks about. My classmates call me the origami dispenser and my record time for folding cranes is 2.4 seconds. Last night... last night, I bought 101 disposable chopsticks on impulse and snapped a hundred of them for good luck I don't really need for anything. Nothing at all. What had I even been thinking?

Momo could feel a headache coming on. Was the boy Izuku psychic? Should she worry about assuming someone else's physical existence? Was it bad that she didn't want to stop, not yet, not with the smell of grass in her nose, not with how refreshed she felt, walking 30 minutes in the countryside with pleasant company and not a care in the world, save maybe for the next time she'll have to use the toilet again? Too much. There was too much going on at once. She wondered if it was too off for her to try falling into another rice paddy, this time deliberately.

"Erm... maybe she was-"

"DIE, HALF AND HALF!"

Momo was a city girl whose natural response to sudden scandalous noises in near vicinity was to walk faster without letting people notice immediately nor flinching. So Momo walked faster without letting people notice immediately nor flinching. But instinct had her turn towards the general direction of the voice to find a basketball hurtling straight at her face and she barely had time to skitter away, letting out an involuntary sound in the process.

"Good morning to you too, Katsuki," Tenya told someone. The ball somehow ended up in Izuku's hands and he threw it at a scowling blonde who caught it with without looking.

"That was supposed to hit you," Katsuki nodded at Momo, "except your reflexes are shittier than usual today so you are welcome for sparing your damn- what the fuck are you doing?"

What? No. She was just standing there having a polite conversation with someone who just tried to give her a concussion like the lady she was. But Katsuki looked like he was asking a serious question so Momo turned to her companions. Tenya looked away at eye contact, patted his pockets for something, then hurriedly took off his glasses to clean with his shirt. Meanwhile, Izuku was giggling almost embarrassedly. "Why? What's the matter?"

"Shouto," Izuku managed, "you, um, you look... really cute. Like a girl."

Momo bristled and readied her breath for an intensive sassing session but remembered herself in time... oh. Knees together, shoulders hoisted up, arms stuck to the torso, fists in front of her—his—chest. Yup. A particularly feminine stance that very possibly looked out of place with this young man's figure if his friends looked this shocked.

"People look like people," she said instead, straightening at a pace that preserved her dignity but also ensured they take immediate notice of the difference. "Am I not allowed to react that way?"

"Um, not really, but maybe catch it like a normal fucking person next fucking time." Katsuki shifted the basketball to one hand, hoisted it over one shoulder with his elbow out. "Doesn't matter. I am crushing you at practice anyways. Don't you dare zone out on me!"

Momo made sure to ask only once Katsuki had stomped out of earshot. "Practice...?"

"More like practice on not slamming the ball in his own team mates' guts," Izuku sniggered as they went after him. "Good thing they decided to invite the next village's high school to compete this year. Might finally teach Kacchan to stop competing with literally anyone he sees moving."

"September... September. Oh! The Sports Fest is coming up!"

"Yup! Today is the fifth. There really is something about knowing it is literally just weeks away, is it not? Practice is gonna be hell under our coaches from now on."

"And our Senpais, at least on your part," Iida added. "Imagine: in cities, school administrators need to actually hold meetings to group their students into multiple teams!"

"Weird, right?" Izuku shook his head. "Teams as in three or four, not just in twos! Imagine going to school with that many people."

"It's... good that our competitions could be a lot more interesting with outside help." Momo wondered how far away Itomori was from the rest of the world as she learned their town was called from the high school building.

"They probably would not have enough players to a group if they tried dividing their sports teams in half either," said Tenya.

...

Momo assumed that her classes today were straightforward and interesting if only she paid attention. It was not like her to be distracted—her ability to focus on important, boring things was far advanced for her age based on both psychiatric evaluation and personal experience—but the clouds seemed to be moving in the most interesting ways as were the people surrounding her. It was unfortunate that Todoroki-san did not sit by the window but his height allowed Momo to take a peek over a couple of sleepy-looking heads without too much difficulty. After spending the first period just looking around and taking everything in, she started to write a short thank you letter to Todoroki-san at the back of one of his notebooks that did not lack apologies for using up his resources (the notebook page among others) and possibly causing mild to moderate strains in his relationships because of her ignorance (the whole affair with Katsuki). But she was halfway through the letter when the teacher said something that caught her interest.

"Think of the daytime as a kingdom ruled by the sun, and the night as one of the moon," said the pretty woman with cattish, midnight eyes behind the red frame of her glasses. As she spoke, she drew a semi-circle which was both the earth and the lower half of a clock. She drew two small castles from both ends of the arch, a person walking between them and the hands of a clock moving from 6:00 to 6:05. "Following this logic, every one of us are citizens of both kingdoms, changing residency twice a day. But at twilight, kataware-doki, we are neither. Pretend also that the walls of the two kingdoms are our concept of what is real. As we travel from one country to the other, our path is surrounded by the things that do not exist within our two territories—in other words, things that we usually do not believe to be possible. None of these can penetrate the walls of either kingdoms, but at kataware-doki, we are at the mercy of the forces we sometimes describe as magic."

As the teacher finished her little drawing with the stick man making it to moon kingdom and leaving the path of magic (represented by shooting stars falling up at its head) behind, Momo felt... Todoroki-san's hand touch his... or her... left cheek. It had been several hours but it still felt vaguely different although the skin of his face didn't weigh anything to her anymore. She raised the same hand. "Yes, Todoroki-kun?"

"Sensei, is it possible that we may be compromised shortly before dawn as well?"

Sniggers bounced of the classroom walls and Momo became very aware of the fact that everyone was looking at her. But instead of sneering expressions, Todoroki-san's classmates seemed to be more in awe or at least preoccupied with the fact that he—or his body—had just asked a question in the first place. Momo blushed anyway. She wondered if there was anything wrong with the way she spoke.

"Very possibly, Todoroki-kun. But kataware-doki, twilight, is more commonly associated with mortals touching the unknown—or vice versa I would say—in our literature. If you have read Wind in the Willows by American author Kenneth Grahame..."

"'The Gates of Dawn,'" Momo continued with a nod, "is when or, still using our analogy, where Pan comes out to play his pipe."

"Pan is the god of the forests in Greek mythology," the teacher explained to the rest of the class, looking extremely amused. "Protector of wild things who, according to Grahame's adaptation, casts a spell of forgetfulness over all he helps during the dawn. He operates outside our two kingdoms after the dark and before the complete emergence of light. The fact that we can come up with such entities and remember them to the present age suggests there is still a wild thing within us humans that does not belong to four walls and needs to take charge even if only for a few minutes a day. These little wigglers are bound to attract their god's attention at kataware-doki. Todoroki-kun, is that what you meant when you said 'compromised?'"

Again with the laughter, louder this time. But Momo had already decided she liked this teacher very much. "I suppose it's the civilian side of me that worries, Sensei."

"Naturally. Human ego is an uptight, tightlipped control freak, positively narcissistic. But kataware-doki, or the events that transpire during this period does not follow our sense of what is right and wrong. And the primal side of us doesn't much care for the laws of the two kingdoms. Love, for instance, can be argued to be the biggest crime of this age. If at kataware-doki unconditionally caring for a companion regardless of their flaws and identity is not only natural but normal, in our realm of the real it's a violation of the very foundations of our survival. That's why, I think, some of us initially have negative reactions to this magic the first time we are exposed to it. Isn't that right, Bakugou-kun?"

"Wh-why me, you-! S-sensei! Why me?!" The class roared and Momo found herself laughing with them.

At recess, after she had gotten over how "miraculous" the salad was ("Is this locally produced? Oh my god. I think I could live here forever,"), her discussion with the mildly confused Tenya and Izuku returned to their literature class. Apparently, it was still hard to start calling Nemuri-sensei "Kayama" in respect to the high school transferees who were slowly starting to integrate into their longstanding society (hopefully the Sports Fest speeds things up a little bit) and wasn't it so darned provincial for your homeroom teacher in the first grade to follow you all the way up to high school, maybe even up to the final year? And Todoroki-san, apparently, had not voluntarily raised his hand in class for the past ten years save for that one time Eijirou dared him to make a scene which made him announce "Sensei, I just want to say that Koji is a hot mess and we all believe in him as should everybody," in the sixth grade, apparently sending the boy deeper into his quiet spell rather than encouraging him to speak up more ("He would not talk to us for months until we saved up and gotten him Candy," Izuku remembered with a shudder).

"Since when did you start reading Western literature, Shouto?" Tenya asked Momo. "I do not remember you ever mentioning the books you have read."

"Um..."

"Tsuyu-chan said you looked so alive from where she was seated," Izuku stressed. "Not suggesting you are dead on the inside, Shouto, but it has been a while since we last felt you were excited about something. Or if not excited then just, like, really concerned."

"R-really, now. When, when was the last time?"

"Erm-"

"I am curious, Shouto," Tenya declared. "It seems kataware-doki as a literary motif interests you. May I ask why?"

Perhaps it was because she hasn't known him for so long yet, but Momo wondered if Tenya's close friends could hear intention in his voice better, or in the tone or maybe even expression. Her only hint that they were expecting to have struck a chord with Todoroki-san was that Tenya did not seem to be the kind to cut in on conversations and Izuku was very determinedly looking at him and not Momo.

She swallowed. She'll worry about that once she had answered the question. Randomly, she remembered a strange assessment on her she didn't mean to take a peep at on her homeroom teacher's desk: Throw a pop quiz at her and she wouldn't bat an eye but put her in a situation that requires dishonesty and her perfectionist tendencies force the rest of her mental processes to self-destruct. She didn't know if she had actually been put in such a situation in class and just forgot or if Aizawa-sensei was just one hell of a good guesser.

Momo decided to go for honesty. "I... had a dream the other day. I was a different person and I lived their life from the time I was awake—in the dream—to the time I fell asleep again. Today... I mean, I've been dreaming the same sort of dream again, only this time, I remember who I am, or who I was before I woke up. But I'm not sure anymore," if I have woken up. "If kataware-doki is when magic creeps into our limited perception, I was wondering if the same occurs before sunrise—before we open our eyes each day."

"I see," Tenya said. Then he muttered, "This does feel like a repeat performance of the other day..."

"What does?"

"It was like you were sleepwalking," Izuku piped in. "Don't you remember? You came in with bedhead and would not respond to anyone all day. Just stare at anything that moves and occasionally pinch your arm and wince."

"Like trying to wake up."

"Hmm," was all Momo could say, blushing furiously, failing to realize that no one was talking about her.

Break ended without further embarrassment and once lessons were over, the time came for basketball practice as promised. Momo followed Katsuki haltingly into the gym amidst a group of awkward prepubescents with that gym look in their eyes that suggested they would have long started living there if only the authorities allowed it. Momo didn't get it. She didn't get the gym look, she didn't get boys in general. But she thought Todoroki-san might be one and the same as his pack so she did her utmost to get her head in the game, choking on her attempts to swallow down any apprehensions with 1.) not knowing how to do basketball beyond theory, and 2.) being faced off with Katsuki, also captain of their rival group. He performed lividly ("THIS IS FOR EMBARRASSING ME IN CLASS, HALF AND HALF!") and Momo, physically fit though she was, simply couldn't cope.

In ten minutes, they were carting her out. "Take a break, Todoroki," said their coach with a plain expression, "it's just nerves. Shake 'em off, go home early. I recommend taking a nap like the good old days. That's what I used to do when I was your age. Plus a bubble bath if your grandmother will let it, not just a hot soak in the tub. Think that would make you feel better?"

"I'm so sorry."

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty here or anything. I just never thought you'd get the nerves like everybody else, that's all. Not your fault."

"I'm sor... Erm. It, happens, to... the b-best of us?"

The coach gave her a warm smile. "That's the spirit. You've done your middle school team many a good turn. We're not kicking you out that easy." Out the door, she thought she saw Katsuki gaping at the corner of her eye.

But Momo couldn't go home, not when there was so much to see. An idle walk through the perimeters informed her that for a small school, it had been able to form a baseball team and a soccer team asides from the basketball players sweating it out in the gym. None of the teams had more than a handful of spare members so Momo thought one injured member was going to cripple their entire group. But she noted with no small glee that their slim numbers also avoided the formation of girls' league. She herself was a libero for her volleyball team back home but there weren't enough boys interested enough to form the school's "official" team. Momo scoffed, watching a long-haired girl jump the highest she has ever seen a human do to kick an airborne soccer ball straight into Izuku. If an all-girls' team wasn't enough for them, (Izuku had caught the ball in the stomach, then landed straight into his gloved hands and suddenly everyone was running to check on their goalkeeper) they were going to have to start settling for quality.

Turning away from the scene after seeing that Izuku was alright—this happened all the time, apparently—Momo walked some more and found the baseball field. She stood around staring at practice for a while, then climbed up to the bleachers with the relaxed decision to just sit down and watch. There was a short boy with suggestively beaklike features playing chess with a man in a leather jacket on the highest tier. Momo wondered if it would be better to practice strategies indoors and alone, but maybe the coach was training him to have unyielding focus amidst all the movement and noise.

A girl on one of the benches for spare players noticed and waved her over. "Shouto-kun! Practice over?"

Momo hesitated then drew closer. "For me, yes..."

"For you?"

Momo briefly explained how she simply wasn't in shape that day a lot less embarrassed than she thought she would be. The other girl listened and nodded seriously.

"You do look a little clammy today, but if anyone deserves an unscheduled break, it is you. Have a sip?"

"Oh... thank you." Momo was pretty sure she couldn't stand being thirsty any longer. The thermos had the kanji for "tea" and "child" engraved on its steel surface and surprisingly housed cool mint tea instead of water. It was about as refreshing as its owner's sunny expression.

"Actually, Shouto-kun... Did you happen to notice if Deku-kun is still in practice?"

"Um." Who now? This girl didn't look like she has it in her to insult people, not in such sweet, sarcastic tones...

"Oh, he probably is. I should not worry! Not at all..." The brunette took back the thermos looking a little shy and Momo inexplicably realizes the kanji spelled out her name rather than a brand of kitchenware. "Oh, but Shouto-kun, you were so beautiful last night! I have been watching you for years and it is like the first time every ceremony!"

"I... I was? I mean. Thank you?"

"You are too humble, Shouto-kun. Here."

Ochako unlocked her phone and headed straight for the latest video on her gallery. The camera looked up at an elevated stage lit by pale lights in the late evening and immediately zoomed in on two dancers performing what Momo knew from textbooks as the kagura. She made a conscious effort not to exclaim: the prospect of a shrine in this rural town had never even crossed her mind, and now she was witnessing an honest Shinto ritual. Vacationing away from the city, her parents never once brought her to tourist attractions where rituals once exclusively sacred to a people were performed for the benefit of cultural strangers. Her mother blamed exoticism and her father cited capitalism but she never really gave the traditional in general much thought anyway.

But the stage alight with both fluorescent bulbs and torches was just the beginning. Momo recognized Fuyumi in full Shinto priestess garb, glasses off, moving like she didn't need them, never did. And Momo startled further when she recognized herself—himself—him, Todoroki Shouto—in miko attire, dancing the kagura next to Fuyumi-san, solemn expression just as perfect as his sister's. He wore the same long white jacket over the white shirt, the same vermilion trousers as was required of a shrine maiden. Pale rice powder dusted his fair face, and his scarlet painted lips and the muted light of the night softened his birthmark to a raw sort of pink. His hair was slicked back with gel and pins, swept upward so that his white locks covered most of the red ones better to complement his head dress. But there was some retained masculine power in his grace, the sure way he flicked the ceremonial bells in his right hand and tossed back his head, in each carefully practiced step he took. Momo allowed herself enough time to realize there was no one beating the drums nor playing the flute in sight... the musical accompaniment was pre-recorded, coming from a trusty pair of speakers booming from strategic locations on stage... and she placed her full attention on the two dancers. She was perfectly entranced and had to make a conscious effort not to applaud. With this video of the boy whose body she now possessed, Momo was certain that today was the makings of nothing less than magic.

"...did not dictate only blood relatives of a priestess may perform our rites," Ochako was saying, "I think I would have seriously considered entering apprenticeship when I was younger. Oh, but that is not to say it should not be you doing all of this with Fuyumi-senpai, Shouto-kun. Our shrine requires at least two active miko, right?"

Two active women... Momo supposed Todoroki-san's grandmother didn't count. She dimly recalled that miko were commonly virginal maidens—perhaps in modern times, that translated to young single women, unless maybe in desperate cases. And while there had been no real time to stare at their household altar, Momo remembers spotting a frame bearing a smiling woman who was a near-replica of Fuyumi-san. If only the Todoroki were allowed to be priestesses, technically only Fuyumi-san and her grandmother could carry on the family tradition. Had one of the two brothers been required to sacrifice their time for the cause once their grandmother grew too weak to become active? Perhaps Natsuo had declined the call of their ancestors and Shouto didn't. Or, more romantic still, perhaps Shouto himself had volunteered to save his grandmother from the physical strains of religious duty.

Suddenly, Momo felt... jealous, somehow. And undeserving. Unworthy of this borrowed body, this borrowed time living this boy's wondrous life. But her seatmate was waiting for an answer so she said, "It is important for tradition to continue, no matter the circumstances we have now." She felt stupid but it was the best she could come up with at the moment.

"Right? That is how we know you are perfect for the role, Shouto-kun, even if you are a boy. I am glad Kacchan stopped making jokes about it. Oh, speaking of Kacchan, if you listen closely here..."

She moved the tracker forward to a frame where Fuyumi and Shouto seemed to be filling a wooden box each with a white, semi-fluid paste coming out of their mouths. What were they making? Momo tried to remember everything she knew about Shinto rituals but was ashamed to come up short. She let her imagination fill in the gaps instead. Was it a special tonic? A solution that required human saliva to become special to its people, to completely embody meaning? Momo made a mental note to ask Fuyumi-san later. Close to the recorder, Izuku's voice seemed to be having a whispered conversation with a bodiless female voice. Momo caught words like "eternity" and "connections" but a harsh bark cut in, much closer to the phone. "-fine, he is pretty, Eijiro. What the fuck do you want me to do about it?"

She found herself giggling. Her father always said that people who recognize true beauty when they see it are the same who would know when their own souls were looking back at them in the mirror. "For all his tough act, Katsuki-san's quite a softie, isn't he?"

"Especially for Deku-kun." Ochako giggled again and Momo felt the gears in her head click quickly into place. "Oh, but not that... not that being good friends with someone means you want to, er. You know. But even if that were the case, no one should have to be scared of what they are, right, Shouto-kun? Oh, sorry—I am out of battery." No wonder Katsuki alias Kacchan was being mean to Momo—or Todoroki-san—today.

Momo allowed herself a few seconds to stay in a daze. "For all the disadvantages of rural life," Ochako sighed wistfully, stretching her stubby fingers up to the sky, "I bet we will go to college in Tokyo and find ourselves wishing we were back here half the time."

"I know I would."

"I would love to get out of this town," Ochako continued. "No bookstores, no dentist, no cute cafes, not one! But all the same, I want to bring it with me everywhere for always and always..."

They sit in comfortable silence, idly watching baseball practice going on below them. A charmed life. Momo was living a charmed life, or dreaming of living one anyway. All of a sudden, she had a purpose that wielded tangible results, a family that had time to show that they cared, and childhood friends addressing her with a familiarity unknown to a girl who had been homeschooled all her life until recently. Momo wanted to be a part of that better. She knew if she just asked questions the right way, she would get the information she needed... "It seems only yesterday you, I mean, we were a-all in the first grade."

"Is it not? All ten of us, with Nemuri-sensei being nice enough to follow us in homeroom up till high school. Haay. Extended families really are a lot bigger in the province like they say in movies. Now, we are closer to our dreams than ever together. Ohh, I knew I was going to be an international pitcher right from the start. But you originally went to the dojo with Mashirao-kun after class, right? Until..."

"Um..."

"Oh, I am sorry, Shouto-kun! I- I did not mean to-"

"No, no, it's okay!" Momo tried to suppress new panic blooming in her chest; she had no idea why her new friend looked so genuinely apologetic. "But, er, after failing to make a single shot in practice today, I think I should start reconsidering it." She tried to fake a laugh and was surprised with the pretty sound that burst out her mouth. She wondered how good it would sound on Todoroki-san with his complete control (or lack thereof) over it.

"R-really?"

Momo shrugged and smiled. "Just kidding. But don't count anything that could do good out, right?"

"Right! Right..." Ochako looked at her a little longer then beamed small-ly. "I am happy that... you are at a better place now, Shouto-kun. With your family."

Family? As far as Momo could tell from her short time in his home, Todoroki Shouto's family was perfect and whole as it was. Why would his choosing basketball over martial arts be such a bad thing that the whole community seemed to know about? Wanting to know more but not knowing how to steer the conversation, Momo simply nodded.

A voice called out, "Uraraka! You are up!"

"I am right there! Cheer me on, won't you, Shouto-kun?"

"Of course! Break a leg, Ochako-san!"

Her team mates who had been doing more or less averagely as far as Momo could tell started cheering as Ochako descended into the playing field. And with stupid, lucid joy that knew no future deadlines, Momo began to see why Anti-Gravity rightfully earned her nickname—powerful swings of the arm that always landed the ball within batting range but somehow always seemed to elude a direct hit with the batter at the last minute. It was almost as if she was guiding the ball like a puppeteer guides their toy to deceive, surprise and entertain those betting on the winning side. And Uraravity kept winning... and winning... and winning...

"Shouto," Tenya panted up beside Momo in his shorts, sweating bullets from a run or maybe several. "What are you doing outside court?"

"They thought it would be best if I took a break today," Momo confessed, feeling her cheeks go red again.

"Why? What happened?"

"I'm... too distracted. I think."

"You think? That is not good. Could this have anything to do with... well, no offense, Shouto. But you are behaving rather oddly today."

"Is... that a bad thing?"

"No! Of course not! In fact... well, you look positively blooming if I may say so. I mean that as your friend. But it seems as if your state of mind has been affected somewhat. Could these changes be related somehow?"

"Th-thank you."

"...Did you hear anything after the compliment?"

"Er... Actually, Tenya-kun, can you tell me where the bathroom is?"

"Shouto... are you alright?"

"P-please? I really need to, um. You know."

Tenya looked at her a little longer and decided the sweat beading her brow was from the genuine physical strain of keeping it in. He gave her directions and Momo was relieved to know it would take her less than two minutes to reach in a run. She thanked him and began walking briskly but he called to her with a hesitant tone. His glasses seemed to have fogged over and he looked antsy about something.

"Shouto... remember to use the men's room!"

Oh! Momo was so preoccupied she almost forgot. She tried to thank Tenya-kun for being so thoughtful but the way he was so ardently scrubbing the lenses of his glasses with the end of his shirt that it reminded her that that might look weird. In no time, anxiously, she was in the toilet. She had waited as long as she could, tried to be as excited with her surroundings as possible to ignore her thirst (this wasn't so hard) but she didn't want to give Todoroki-san urinary tract infection. Besides, she couldn't keep lying to Tenya-kun like that. If her nether region didn't burst first, her conscientious heart would.

The crash course she took earlier that day wasn't helpful. ("You stand over the toilet, aim and fire," Natsuo-san had deadpanned. "Honestly, Shouto you've been doing this on your own since you were three, we used to call you gifted and everything...") Momo still had no plans to accidentally masturbate with this body and would have attempted several other different ways to urinate earlier if she hadn't been dying to go. Now... probably wasn't the time to do that, considering she was once again desperate for release and not at all keen on making an unintentional mess in public. How on earth did she succeed that morning?

Oh gods. Better get this over with. Unzip. Okay. Just think of something holy, Momo, or something gross. Something far, far away from that certain part of Todoroki-san's anatomy. Well, she supposed she was really thirsty right now; Ochako's mint tea felt like ages ago. There was a vending machine at the entrance of this building, was there not? She could get herself juice, no, water, so that she got thirsty (and less in need of a piss) much later than if she got some other beverage instead. Alright, that was out of the way. Any other need to think of? No? Hold on, was that heat going down her legs...? Nope, just your self-conscious imagination, Momo. Stop it! That's your mind doing tricks to get you to look down! Something gross then. Do boys poo the same w- no! No, don't go there, girl! Holy, holy. Gods. When was the last time I prayed? Oh, Todoroki-san and Fuyumi-san. They were so beautiful last night. Do people pray during a kagura, or was the prayer in the dance itself?

And then, shame! Thinking about such beauty while using the toilet with a penis! But Momo thought of herself in her own body, sitting on her toilet on her phone with no thoughts on sex whatsoever popping up to her no matter what sort of suggestive material managed to turn up on her Twitter timeline. Peeing was so natural that somehow it carried over the very little innocence she still had now from the days of toddlerhood, or, if not innocence, then that state of mind where nothing you think is ever malicious even if you had the full capacity for decidedly adult thoughts in other aspects of your life and why is it that even with a different identity, she just had to overthink anything and everything?

Fortunately, there didn't seem to be anything left to push out of her system anymore. Right. Time to get out of here. Except... well. She washed herself every time with the bidet but there didn't seem to be one in this particular toilet. Should she use a tissue then... no, no dispenser either except the one next to the sink. Did boys just... tuck it back into their pants like unsanitary beasts void of any concept of hygiene? What had she done earlier? Ugh, she had been so absorbed with the newness of the situation that her brain hadn't focused on remembering for future use. She would have taken the time to come up with a solution but a tanned boy with sharp canines and wild red hair came up to the unit next to herand started unzipping his pants ("Hey, Shouto, feeling better?") so Momo stuttered a Yesthankyouyou'retookind, did the best she could, and left. She recognized him from as one of her team mates when they were split into two for basketball practice but did not look back.

Tenya-kun was at the vending machine when she arrived. Inspired, she lost herself entirely and got a can of orange juice too—she'll hold it in until she gets home, she'll manage like she did earlier. Refreshed, she could do anything, even with a body such as this. Once she had reassured Tenya-kun that everything was fine, perfect even, he began to relax and they fell into what Momo believed was their regular routine of talking and listening. Soon, Izuku-kun would join them for another round of drinks and they would walk home, and maybe she would help her grandmother and sister cook even though she wasn't very good at it... there was always time to learn new things with a life such as this, far away from a desk and the life planner it nestled within, and the tests she had to ace and the people she needed to impress...

She had not wasted the 100 chopsticks at all.

There wasn't any space in her chest for guilt as the sun started shining orange, ready to set over this perfect small town. But Momo allowed herself a moment to hope Todoroki Shouto, wherever he was, was doing okay.

_______

A/N: i will die for Eldest!Fuyumi. obviously we conceptualized this before the latest big Touya reveal, so.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #僕ぼくのヒーローアカデミア #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #bnha sleepwalk #todomomo #todoroki shouto #yaoyorozu momo #todoroki family #class 1-a #post #mine #haraya's #class 1a #class 1 a #writing

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