"A rest day?" I stare at Grandpa like he's just announced he's becoming a ballet dancer. "Are you feeling okay? Do you have a fever?"
Grandpa scowls, but there's no real heat behind it. "Don't be dramatic. Your muscles need time to recover before the exam. Showing up exhausted won't do you any good."
We're in the kitchen, finishing breakfast after an unusually light morning training session. For the past weeks, our routine has been brutal, dawn to dusk preparations for the UA entrance exam. So this sudden change feels... suspicious.
"Besides," he continues, busying himself with the dishes, "you've been training non-stop. Your quirk control has improved significantly. At this point, overworking yourself will do more harm than good."
I narrow my eyes. "Who are you and what have you done with my grandfather?"
He flicks water at me from the sink. "Smart-ass. Just take the day off. Both of you."
"Both—?"
On cue, my phone buzzes with a text from Nejire:
DID U HEAR?? REST DAY!!! What should we do?? We could go to the mall or the park or see a movie or...
The message continues with about fifteen more suggestions, complete with excessive exclamation points and emojis.
"You already told Nejire?" I ask, looking up from my phone.
Grandpa shrugs, not meeting my eyes. "I may have mentioned it to her yesterday."
"Why do I feel like I'm being set up?"
He turns, hands on his hips. "Would it kill you to spend a day doing something normal teenagers do? All you think about is training and that exam."
"I wonder whose fault that is," I mutter.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
He dries his hands on a towel, eyeing me with that penetrating gaze that always makes me feel like he can see right through me. "Your friend has been working just as hard as you have. She deserves a break too."
Friend. Right. That's what Nejire is. My friend.
So why does my heart rate pick up when I think about spending the whole day with her? Just the two of us. Without training as an excuse to keep things... professional.
"Fine," I sigh, trying to sound put-upon rather than nervous. "I'll text her back."
"Good," Grandpa nods, looking oddly satisfied. "And Shinra?"
"Yeah?"
"Try to have some fun. Remember what you're fighting for."
I blink, caught off guard by the sudden seriousness in his tone. "What do you mean?"
"Being a hero isn't just about power or skill," he says, his voice softer than usual. "It's about protecting people's ability to live normal, happy lives. Sometimes you need to remember what that looks like."
With that unexpectedly profound statement, he leaves the kitchen, leaving me staring after him.
I look down at my phone, at Nejire's enthusiastic text, and start typing a reply.
Movie sounds good. What's playing?
—
"Is this a date?"
The thought hits me like a thunderbolt as I stand in front of my closet, staring at my limited wardrobe options. I've never been on a date before. I've never even thought about going on a date before.
But Nejire and I are meeting up, just the two of us, to see a movie and hang out. That's what dates are, right?
No, I'm overthinking this. It's just two friends spending time together on their day off. Completely normal. Not a date.
So why am I suddenly worried about what to wear?
I settle on my least-terrible jeans and a blue t-shirt that Grandpa once said "brings out my eyes" or something. I even attempt to style my hair, which is a lost cause after about thirty seconds.
"Going somewhere?" Grandpa asks innocently when I emerge from my room.
"You know exactly where I'm going," I grumble. "This was your idea."
He sips his tea, the picture of innocence. "Have fun. Don't stay out too late."
"We're seeing a movie, not eloping," I shoot back, heading for the door.
"Shinra," he calls after me.
I pause, hand on the doorknob. "Yeah?"
"You look nice."
I flee before he can see my face turn red.
—
The train ride to the shopping district is fifteen minutes of me trying to convince myself that this is just a normal hangout with a friend. By the time I reach our meeting spot outside the cinema, I've almost succeeded.
Then I see Nejire.
She's wearing a light blue sundress with a denim jacket, her hair cascading down her back in waves. She looks... different. Not better or worse than usual, just... different.
She spots me and waves enthusiastically, bouncing on her toes like she always does when she's excited. That, at least, is reassuringly familiar.
"Shinra! You're early!" she says as I approach, looking me up and down with an approving nod. "You look nice!"
"Uh, thanks," I manage, suddenly hyper-aware of every cell in my body. "You too."
Is this awkward? This feels awkward. We see each other almost every day for training. Why is this different?
"So," I clear my throat. "What movie did you want to see?"
She points to the poster for the latest superhero blockbuster—ironic, given our career aspirations. "This one looks fun! Unless you wanted to see something else?"
"No, that's fine," I nod, relieved to have something to focus on. "Let's get tickets."
Inside, I insist on paying for both of us since she bought me those training gloves. This immediately backfires when she thanks me with a bright smile and says, "Such a gentleman! Next time's on me, okay?"
Next time. Like this is going to be a regular thing.
Is this a date? The question echoes in my mind again as we get popcorn and find our seats.
The theater is dark and not too crowded, since it's a weekday afternoon. We sit somewhere in the middle, and I'm acutely aware of how close our arms are on the shared armrest.
The movie itself is... fine? I think? I honestly couldn't tell you much about the plot because I spend most of it in a state of heightened awareness of Nejire beside me. Every time she laughs, or gasps, or leans slightly closer to whisper a comment, I feel like my heart's going to explode.
At one point our hands brush in the popcorn bucket, and I nearly send a spark of electricity through the entire row.
What is WRONG with me?
When the lights come up, I realize I've seen an entire two-hour movie and absorbed maybe ten minutes of it.
"That was so good!" Nejire gushes as we exit the theater. "The part where he used his quirk to redirect the missile? So cool! Though not very realistic, the physics don't work that way at all."
"Yeah, definitely," I agree, having no memory of said missile scene.
We emerge into late afternoon sunlight, and an awkward silence falls. The movie provided structure, a reason for us to be together. Now what?
"So," we both say simultaneously, then laugh.
"You first," I offer.
"Are you hungry?" she asks. "There's a really good ramen place around the corner."
My stomach answers for me with a well-timed growl, and just like that, the awkwardness breaks. We head to the ramen shop, falling into our usual easy conversation about training, the upcoming exam, and Nejire's endless stream of questions about everything under the sun.
This is better. This is us. Not whatever weird tension I was imagining earlier.
The ramen place is small and cozy, with just a few tables and a counter. We snag a booth in the corner, and I find myself relaxing as we order and wait for our food.
"So," Nejire says, leaning forward with her chin in her hands. "What do you think you'll do after we get into UA?"
"You mean if we get in," I correct her.
She waves this away. "Please. We're definitely getting in. But then what? What kind of hero do you want to be?"
It's a question I've been avoiding thinking about. In the original timeline, the students of Class 1-A all had clear aspirations. Midoriya wanted to be like All Might. Bakugo wanted to be the number one hero. Todoroki wanted to surpass his father.
Me? I just want to survive what's coming.
"I haven't thought about it much," I admit. "I guess I just want to be... helpful? To use my quirk to protect people who need it."
She tilts her head, studying me. "That's very you."
"What does that mean?"
"Just that you've never seemed interested in fame or glory. Even when you found out you had this amazing quirk, you didn't immediately start planning how to become the next All Might."
Our food arrives, saving me from having to respond. We dig in, and I'm grateful for the distraction.
"What about you?" I ask after a few bites. "What kind of hero do you want to be?"
Her eyes light up. "I want to be a rescue specialist! Someone who can handle natural disasters, building collapses, that sort of thing. My quirk is perfect for it—I can use my waves to clear debris, or as propulsion to reach difficult spots, or even to cushion falls!"
Her enthusiasm is contagious, and I find myself smiling. "You'll be great at that."
"You think?" she asks, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.
"Definitely," I nod. "You're already always helping people. Remember that cat you rescued on the way to training?"
She laughs. "That was nothing."
"It wasn't nothing to the cat," I point out. "Or to its owner, probably."
She looks at me with an expression I can't quite read. "You notice a lot of things, don't you? Things other people miss."
I shrug, suddenly self-conscious. "Just observant, I guess."
After dinner, we wander through the shopping district as the sun begins to set. It's nice, just walking and talking without the pressure of training hanging over us. We window-shop, debate the merits of different hero costumes we see on display, and even stop for ice cream despite being full from dinner.
As the streetlights come on, I realize we've spent the entire day together and it flew by. The initial awkwardness is long gone, replaced by the comfortable companionship we've developed over months of training together.
We find ourselves in a small park, sitting on a bench watching the last colors of sunset fade from the sky.
"This was nice," Nejire says, licking the last of her ice cream cone. "We should do this more often."
"Yeah," I agree, surprised to find I mean it. "It was a good break from training."
She nudges my shoulder with hers. "See? All work and no play makes Shinra a dull boy."
"I'm already a dull boy," I joke. "Too late for that."
"No, you're not," she says, her voice suddenly serious. "You're one of the most interesting people I know."
I look at her, caught off guard by the sincerity in her tone. She's watching me with those bright, inquisitive eyes that seem to see more than I'm comfortable showing.
"I'm really not," I say quietly. "I'm just... me."
"Exactly," she smiles. "And 'just you' is pretty great."
There's a moment where the air between us changes. Where I think maybe... just maybe...
Then her phone rings, shattering the moment. She answers, and I can hear her mother's voice on the other end, asking when she'll be home.
"Soon, Mom," she says, giving me an apologetic look. "I'm just finishing up with Shinra. Twenty minutes, okay?"
She hangs up with a sigh. "Sorry. Curfew."
"It's fine," I say, trying to sound casual, as if my heart weren't still pounding from... whatever that moment was. "It's getting late anyway."
We walk to the train station in comfortable silence. When we reach the platform, we have to head in opposite directions.
"So," I say, suddenly awkward again. "See you tomorrow for more training?"
"Yep," she nods. "Back to the grind."
There's a brief hesitation, like we're both unsure how to end the day, and then she steps forward and gives me a quick hug.
"Thanks for today," she says. "I had fun."
Before I can respond, she darts off toward her platform, turning once to wave before disappearing into the crowd.
I stand there for a moment, processing. Then I head to my own train, a small smile on my face.
On the ride home, I can't help wondering: Was that a date?
And if it was... would that be so bad?
The thought stays with me all the way home, where I find Grandpa pretending to read the newspaper in the living room, clearly waiting up for me.
"Have a good time?" he asks, trying to sound casual.
"Yeah," I say simply, heading to my room before he can interrogate me further. "It was nice."
But as I close my door, I can't help but smile at his poorly concealed matchmaking attempts. For once, I'm not even annoyed by his meddling.
Because today was nice. Really nice. And with the entrance exam looming just a week away, I have a feeling we both needed it more than we realized.