[99] Five Minutes

Hitomi Todoroki sat on her bed, a textbook open before her. The words blurred together as her mind drifted. Her bedroom—meticulously organized with its minimalist decor in cool blues and whites—felt like the only safe haven in this house. The right side of her room maintained a constant chill, frost patterns forming on the edges of her desk where her right hand rested.

She'd been trying to study for the past hour, but her thoughts kept returning to the Sports Festival. To her defeat. To him.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Probably Yaoyorozu with another study question. Or Camie with another meme about their "arrangement." Hitomi's face heated at the memory of that conversation. She still couldn't believe she'd agreed to it.

She reached for the phone without looking and answered.

"Hello?"

When no one responded, she glanced at the screen and froze. Midoriya's face stared back at her, green eyes widened in surprise. A video call. He'd initiated a video call, and she'd answered without thinking.

Hitomi slammed her finger onto the end call button, her heart racing. Frost spiraled across her phone case as she stared at the blank screen. What was he thinking, calling her like that? And why now, when she looked like—

She caught sight of herself in the mirror across the room. Hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, oversized t-shirt hanging off one shoulder, no makeup. Heat bloomed across her cheeks despite her ice quirk. 

Her phone buzzed with a text message.

Midoriya: Sorry for the surprise. 

Hitomi stared at the message, her thumbs hovering over the keyboard. She should say he should be. She should tell him to text whatever he wanted to say. She should—

Hitomi: Give me five minutes.

She tossed the phone onto her bed and rushed to her bathroom. Five minutes. She could work with that.

Four minutes and thirty seconds later, Hitomi settled back on her bed, now wearing a light blue sweater, her dual-colored hair brushed and hanging loose around her shoulders. She'd applied the barest hint of lip gloss and concealer—not enough to look like she was trying, but enough to feel less exposed.

Her phone buzzed again. She took a deep breath, centered herself, and answered the video call.

Midoriya's face appeared on screen, a small smile on his lips. "Hey."

"Hello Midoriya," she replied, keeping her voice even. "You're out of the hospital."

"Just got home a few hours ago." He sat against what looked like his headboard, wearing a simple black t-shirt. "Thought I'd check in with everyone."

"I see." She kept her face carefully neutral, though her heart hammered against her ribs. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I should." His eyes studied her face through the screen. "You look really nice."

Heat rushed to her cheeks. She turned her face slightly, using her red-and-white hair to shield her expression. "Thank you."

"Sorry for the surprise call earlier. I should have texted first."

"It's fine." She tucked a strand of white hair behind her ear. "I just wasn't prepared."

Midoriya shifted, adjusting his position. "So... Camie told me about your conversation. The arrangement."

Hitomi's stomach dropped. He knew. Of course he knew. Camie wouldn't keep something like that secret.

"I see," she said, voice tight. "I apologize if that made you uncomfortable."

"No, it's not that." He ran a hand through his hair, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. "I was surprised, that's all. I didn't realize you... that you saw me that way."

Hitomi's mismatched eyes narrowed. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Considering our first real interaction was you trying to freeze me solid?" His lips quirked into a small smile. "Yeah, a little."

Despite herself, Hitomi felt the corners of her mouth twitch upward. "You performed admirably in our match."

"High praise from the ice queen."

"Don't call me that," she said automatically.

"Sorry." He looked genuinely contrite. "I didn't realize it bothered you."

Hitomi sighed, shifting to lean against her pillows. The movement caused her sweater to slip slightly off one shoulder, revealing pale skin. She caught Midoriya's gaze tracking the movement before snapping back to her face.

"It doesn't, usually," she admitted. "But from you... I'd prefer Hitomi."

"Hitomi," he repeated, testing the name. Something about the way he said it made her skin tingle. "Then you should call me Izuku."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. This felt dangerous, intimate in a way only that interaction in the tunnel had been. In class, during training, at the hospital—there were always others around. Buffers. Now it was just the two of them, separated only by a screen.

"So," he continued, filling the silence, "I was wondering if you'd like to reschedule our coffee."

Hitomi blinked. "Our coffee?"

"We were supposed to get coffee, remember? Before I..." He gestured vaguely at himself. "Before the coma thing."

"Oh. Yes, I did."

"So? Are you free tomorrow?"

Tomorrow. Just the two of them. Her heart skipped.

"I'd have to check my schedule," she said, playing for time.

Izuku smiled, seeing through her deflection. "Come on, Hitomi. It's Sunday. The only thing on your schedule is studying and training, which I know you've already done for the week."

She arched an eyebrow. "You seem very confident about my study habits."

"You're as disciplined as I am. Maybe more so." He leaned closer to the camera, his green eyes intent. "Say yes. I promise not to fall into another coma."

"That's a low bar for a date."

"So it is a date?" His smile widened.

Hitomi realized her slip too late. Her cheeks burned, and she knew the blush was visible even through the phone screen. "I didn't—that's not what I—"

"Because I'd like it to be," he continued, saving her from her stammering. "A date, I mean. A proper one."

She stared at him, searching for any sign of teasing or insincerity. There was none. Just those steady green eyes, watching her with a warmth that made her ice quirk feel momentarily useless.

"Why?" 

"Why what?"

"Why me?" She gestured at herself, frustration creeping into her voice. "You have Camie. And Yaoyorozu is clearly interested. They're both—" Warmer. More open. Not damaged by their father's legacy. "—more approachable."

Izuku's expression softened. "Can I tell you something about our match?"

The sudden shift in topic caught her off guard. "What about it?"

"When you unleashed that final attack—the one that nearly got me—I saw something in your eyes. Not just determination or power." He paused, searching for the right words. "I saw liberation. For just a moment, you weren't fighting as Endeavor's daughter or even as a UA student. You were fighting as yourself. And it was so fucking beautiful."

Hitomi's breath caught. No one had ever described her quirk as beautiful before. Powerful, yes. Useful, certainly. But beautiful? 

"You don't know me," she said quietly.

"I'd like to." His voice matched her softness. "That's what dates are for, right? Getting to know someone?"

She couldn't argue with that logic. 

"Alright," she said finally. "Tomorrow. But I'll meet you somewhere."

"Actually, I'd like to pick you up." When she started to protest, he added, "Not at your house. I know you wouldn't want that. But somewhere nearby?"

The consideration in the offer surprised her. He understood her desire to keep him away from her father without her having to explain it.

"There's a park two blocks east of my house," she said. "I could meet you there. At ten?"

"Ten works." He smiled, a genuine, warm expression that made something flutter in her chest. "I'm looking forward to it."

"It's just coffee," she said, more to herself than to him.

"For now." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "Though I should warn you—I tend to take dating seriously."

Hitomi's pulse quickened. "What does that mean?"

"It means if I'm going to date someone, I commit to it. No games, no uncertainty." His gaze held hers through the screen. "If we do this, I want to really get to know you, Hitomi. The real you, not just the ice quirk or the top student or Endeavor's daughter."

The directness of his statement left her momentarily speechless. Most people tiptoed around her, intimidated by her quirk or her family name. Not Izuku. He addressed everything head-on, with a frankness that was both refreshing and terrifying.

"What if you don't like what you find?" 

"I'll take that risk if you will." His smile turned gentle. "Besides, I already really like what I've seen so far."

"You're very direct," she observed, trying to regain her composure.

"Life's too short not to be." He shifted, and the camera angle changed slightly, giving her a glimpse of his broader shoulders and chest before returning to his face. "So, tomorrow at ten. The park east of your house. I'll be there."

"I'll be the one with half-white, half-red hair," she said dryly.

Izuku laughed. "I'd recognize you anywhere, Hitomi."

Something about the way he said it—like it was a simple fact rather than a line—made her stomach flip. This was dangerous territory. She'd spent years learning to control her emotions, to keep people at a safe distance. And here was Izuku Midoriya, dismantling her defenses with a smile and a few honest words.

"I should go," she said, needing to end the call before she revealed more of herself than she was ready to. "I have studying to finish."

"Of course." He nodded, though his eyes suggested he saw through her excuse. "But before you go—tell me something."

"What?"

"Something no one else knows about you. Something small." When she hesitated, he added, "I'll go first if you want."

She should refuse. End the call. Retreat back behind her walls. Instead, she found herself nodding. "You first."

Izuku thought for a moment. "I collect All Might figurines. The limited edition ones. I keep them in a special display case in my closet."

Hitomi blinked. "That's... not what I expected."

"Your turn."

She bit her lip, considering what she could share that wouldn't leave her feeling too exposed. "I... I like romantic movies. The old black and white American ones, especially."

His eyebrows rose slightly. "Really? Any favorites?"

"Casablanca," she admitted, feeling strangely lighter for having shared this small secret. "I watch it every New Year's Eve."

"I've never seen it."

"It's about sacrifice," she said. "And doing the right thing, even when it costs you what you want most."

"Sounds like something I should watch."

"Perhaps." She glanced at the time. "I really should go now."

"Okay." He nodded.

Before she could say goodbye, a knock sounded at her bedroom door. Hitomi startled, nearly dropping her phone.

"Hitomi?" Her sister Fuyumi's voice came through the door. "Are you okay? I thought I heard you laughing."

Izuku's eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face. Hitomi shot him a warning look before calling out, "I'm fine, Fuyumi. Just watching something on my phone."

"Oh." Her sister sounded surprised. "Well, dinner will be ready in twenty minutes."

"I'll be there."

Footsteps retreated from her door. When Hitomi turned back to her phone, Izuku was still grinning.

"Not a word," she warned.

"I didn't say anything." His innocent expression wasn't fooling anyone. "But it's nice to know I can make the ice queen laugh."

"I thought you weren't going to call me that anymore."

"Slip of the tongue." His eyes softened. "Hitomi."

The way he said her name—like he was savoring it—sent a shiver down her spine.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Izuku," she said, needing to end the call before she did something embarrassing, like blush again.

"Tomorrow," he agreed. "Sweet dreams, Hitomi."