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The flowers are flat and dry and there's a lot of them. Dozens, Momo thinks, looking at them all, many of them hanging in bunches from the ceiling, bound together in shoelaces, of all things.
The sunset casts them all in blood and fire, their shadows stark where they are thrust upon the walls.
It's macabre, in an odd sort of way (they're just flowers, Momo cannot pinpoint what feels quite so wrong about them-), how there are just so many dried blossoms, and it has to be more than the fact that they're funeral flowers that makes them so disconcerting to stare up at.
"Oh." The voice behind Momo has her spinning around, startled,
"Ah! I'm sorry, Midoriya-kun, I didn't mean to intrude!" He looks startled too, honestly, eyes a little wide, even as he reaches up to rub at his hair, sheepish,
"Oh, uhm, no, you're fine! I was just surprised."
"I really didn't mean to intrude," Momo repeats, very much feeling bad that he looks so nervous, a hint of red to his cheeks,
"I thought I heard a response when I knocked, it was silly of me, really, I should have just double-checked-"
"It's alright, Yaomomo. I know you wouldn't have meant anything by it."
They both falter, then laugh in soft awkwardness, and Izuku slips past her to put his rucksack down at his desk, glancing back up at her,
"Uhm, did you want anything, sorry?"
"Oh!" She jumps slightly,
"Yes, I did, I was wondering if we could cross-reference our LAE notes? I wasn't sure if I got Aizawa-sensei's board notes down correctly because I was trying to figure out if I was understanding his point about the Neo-Sagittarius legislation." Izuku nods, smiling a little now (Momo is glad that he seems more comfortable again already-), already reaching down to pull his Legalities and Ethics notebook out of his bag, pushing other bits of stationery to the side of his desk. Momo can't help but wince internally when a loose page crumples. However, Izuku is speaking again, so she focuses on that instead,
"Of course, it's a topic I've done research into before so I was able to stay pretty on top of the notes."
She cannot help but tilt her head, even as she offers up her own notebook that she brought with her,
"Oh? Was it a previous school project?"
"No!" Izuku laughs, something slightly stiff to it, stilted, an uncomfortable edge to the just-sharp sound that Momo doesn't know what to think of, how to pick apart, not when it's so clear to her that Izuku doesn't want his discomfort to be obvious,
"No, definitely not, my middle school was... not very on top of their history, legalities or ethics education. Or their general education, really, but this was a particularly lacking area."
"Ah, that's unfortunate."
"It was, yeh. Bit of a mess, really."
Momo falls quiet, then, unable to help how she feels like awkward about this, no fault of Izuku's but merely her own uncertainty. She doesn't want to upset him, or to press where she is not welcome.
But Izuku is still trying to get the right page in his own notebook, so she casts around for something, anything, that might ease the tension. And, well, surely there's no harm to potentially appeasing some curiosity of her own?
It's with this thought in mind that Momo gestures up to the ceiling, where most of those spider lilies, dripping blood with the sunset-stained light, are hanging,
"May I ask about the flowers, Midoriya-kun? It's fine if you would rather not discuss them! But, well, I was curious."
"Oh, yes." Izuku falters then (Momo fears, for a split second, that rather than making things better she may well have just made things even worse, maybe have upset or offended her friend-), before he shrugs a little, more a roll of the shoulders than a true dismissal,
"Well, uhm, I used to be given them by- by a friend, in junior high, and a few in elementary too, from memory, so I kept them, and found some of them the other day so I thought I'd put them up."
"And the laces?"
"Just whatever I had to hand," he laughs, and Momo abruptly has a very, very strong feeling that he's lying.
But she doesn't want to push or prod where she isn't welcome, not when she already seems to have perhaps made a mistake, and she trusts Izuku to be intentional in his honest with her. Or, well, to lie to her for a good reason, not just for the sake of a secret or hurting her.
(What he does not share is that it was a late night frenzy after a long-time internet friend of his was reported dead, pushed onto train tracks by a group of bullies who thought it was oh-so funny to bully the Quirkless child the Lace and none of whom spent so much as a single night in a holding cell for their crime.
Izuku lost himself a little that night, knowing that he has escaped such a fate by nothing but a miracle and a hero’s faith. Knowing that so, so many more have and are and will meet the same horrific world day in and day out, the sane world that wants every single one of them long-dead.
It is his reminder to himself that he is one of lucky ones, no matter how scarred and stained he might be.
It is his pledge that whilst he still wears a Lace’s shoes, he will not let go of those who he considers kin. Because they are his and he is theirs and he refuses to become just one more person who doesn’t see the issues, who doesn’t fight for them all.
Not all villains are Shigaraki, and not all victims are random.
One day, he will have the power not to let his family be the target anymore.)
So Momo lets that go, as it is, and gratefully accepts Izuku's notes as they begin talking over the points that Aizawa-sensei raised, about how the legislation was put into affect after the Gemini Riots because there needed to be regulation of both Quirks and of how they were discriminated against.
"Which was all very well," Izuku goes on, pulling his laptop over from where they have their notebooks laid out side by side, flipping the screen open even as he moves away to get some more pens and a pad of sticky notes.
Momo glances up, mouth open to say something to him, except his laptop is open, and on, and apparently he didn't lock it before he last shut the screen down because there are webpages open, lots of them, and the current one is a drafted blog post, from the looks of it, on a site called Laces And Traces, one that Momo doesn't recognise at all.
"But that legislation has backfired heavily, in many a way. The mandated disclosure of Quirk status when applying for jobs, housing, education, bank accounts, and other major life factors, for the very basic necessities of life, has now, in the century plus since, affected Quirkless people massively which-"
"Midoriya-kun, I- I don't think I was meant to see this."
"-intention, albeit- Oh. Oh, fuck, I'm so, so sorry!" He yelps, rushing over to move the laptop, minimising tabs and windows until his background screen, a simple set of stripes in All Might colours, is left behind.
"No, I'm sorry, Midoriya-kun, I didn't mean to read it, but, well, ah, you have my sincerest apologies, truly-" she starts, desperate for him to just not feel like she wanted to do that, because she never, ever would have deliberately tried to find that out, not- Not unless Izuku told her voluntarily and she doesn't think he ever intended to show her that, not like this, not when he is so blatantly scared, beyond hesitant in how he looks up at her, something faltering-frightened-fretting to the way his fingers twist together, to how he leans back, to how something gives in his voice as he speaks, no matter the seemingly simple words,
"It's fine, Yaomomo. It was my own fault and- I know it was an accident. Please don't apologise."
They stare at each other for a long few moments, then. The silence extends, deep and wavering, between them, a minute until it's two, three following without a break or slip, only their quiet breathing, Izuku's catching slightly every so often to interrupt it.
All at once, Momo realises that the room is faintly fragrant, something a little citrus-sharp, a little mellowed out.
"You were Quirkless. A- A Lace?" she goes on, because this clearly can't be brushed away too quickly. (Momo knows, very well, what it is to have someone realise something about her, or highlight an insecurity, and to then just walk right on past whatever the issue may be, to ignore the way that they have just picked her apart as though it was nothing, and she doesn't think that she can do that to someone else unless they literally and explicitly ask her to.)
"I did," Izuku returns, a verbal hesitance akin to the faltering step of a cat into new territory, quiet and just-there,
"I'm still a Lace, really."
"I see." And she must have said something wrong then, or something has processed differently to Izuku's mind, because he's already flapping his hands, flushing a bit once again already,
"I understand if you don't want to be my friend anymore, Yaomomo, you can have the notes if you want them and-"
"Midoriya-kun, please. I think nothing less of you for it."
He blinks at her once, twice, a third time.
"Are- Just, are you sure?" he presses, leaning in now, something feverish to his eyes,
"I'd understand if you did, I wouldn't- Well, I'd be upset, but I wouldn't blame you for it or anything!" And Momo cannot accept that. She absolutely cannot and will not accept that because she adores Midoriya-kun, thinks that he is bright and lovely and so bold yet, she thinks, so insecure too, although he certainly doesn't need to be, and he needs to know that this changes exactly nothing. She thinks far too much of him for that and, even if she didn't, him having been Quirkless would be no reason at all for her opinion of him to change.
She leans in, with these thoughts in her mind, reaching out to hold a just-trembling hand against his forearm, not holding but rather the delicate, fragile press of dried petals to a breeze,
"Midoriya-kun, I do not think any less of you for it. You cannot help how you were born. And if- If what we have learnt and the statistics I have read are accurate, if the little bit of that post I saw was based purely upon your own experience, or even if only some of it was, then you have overcome far more than most to get to here. It's admirable, Midoriya-kun. Truly." He stares up at Momo, not drawing away from her touch but not entirely leaning into it either, face gone pale, eyes softening by the moment,
"Oh."
"Indeed," she agrees, unable to help a wry-edged smile.
It takes a count of three breaths, and then Izuku smiles back, a truly wonderful blooming of something light and relieved and happy.
It gives Momo the confidence to ask a simple question, or one that likely isn't truly so simple but that she hopes Izuku will be comfortable with, or that he will at least not mind her wanting to know more,
"If- If you're comfortable, would you mind telling me more about Laces? About the term, and what it means to you, and what it means in general? You don't have to, of-" Izuku falters then, not drawing away per se, but hesitating, thinking. Momo doesn't mind, content to wait for him.
Said wait is worth it, for his small nod, only a little bit hesitant,
"I... Maybe not yet, but I think I might like that." Momo cannot help but smile in return, soft in a way that she cannot help but certainly doesn't mind, even as she decides that offering him any support can't hurt, that Izuku might not take advantage but that she wants to let him know that relying on her is an option all the same,
"And, well, if you ever need someone to talk to about this, or about anything truly, I would consider myself fortunate to be the person you come to." Izuku hesitates once more, yet his expression is still mostly warm, eyes still bathed golden-bright in the sunset,
"I don't..."
"I'm sorry if I'm being too forward, Midoriya-kun." That, at least, warrants Izuku to shake his head, curls flying,
"No, you're not, and I'm sorry too. I- Nobody knew has found out for quite a long time. But you- I'm glad it was you, Yaomomo." Well, it's Momo's turn to be a little flustered now, retracting her hand to press it to her cheek instead,
"Ah. You honour me, Midoriya-kun."
They smile at each other for a long moment then, the previous tremulousness fading into something bright and honest and lovely. Perhaps Momo was not supposed to find this out today, but accidents happen and, at least, she thinks that Izuku may be able to feel safe, open, himself, with her now, without falter or worry. That is worth any mistake or near-misunderstanding.
(Momo is indeed there for Izuku, in the end. Because he will tell her good stories, occasionally, and less positive stories other times, less often so, but those are the ones that stick most with her.
One day, she gets a full explanation for the bunches of flowers, the cruel gifts left for him daily or weekly, for the friend that he spent hours talking to about their experiences at schools that did not care and did not want to try, that same friend being announced as dead by his older sister who closed his account, and how that wasn't entirely unusual but normally they didn't get so much as a courtesy message, users just going silent and never coming back-
Momo learns, and she listens, and she does her best to support Izuku through it all.
It's worth it, because he confesses to her, one evening when they're sitting on her balcony together, arms and legs dangling out into the air, talking quietly together, that he wants to tell the rest of the class as well, but he just isn't sure, because yes he wants to but he isn't sure if it's a stupid idea or not. He loves them all, of course, he thinks that they love him too, but he just doesn't want to potentially mess his friendships up either.
She encourages him, supports him. Assures Izuku that, no, the class wouldn't even come close to hating him or judging him over it all.
And so she's beyond proud when she gets to sit close to him whilst he tells them all the truth, to support him in the face of his fears, and to be confident in both the class and her friend.
To see him confess his past, scared but stalwart, and to see their class immediately proclaim their adoration, how they still love Izuku, that it doesn't change a single thing about their care for him or their trust in him, well. It's exactly what Momo expected, but she's still glad for the sight of it.
Doubly so when she gets to press tissues into Izuku's hands and, when he hugs her, laughing sheepishly, Momo can only murmur that she is glad, and she never doubted exactly what he means to them all.
He may have been Quirkless once, and he may still feel that he is a Lace, but no matter what, even if he lost his Quirk tomorrow, Izuku would still be one of their class, and she tells him as such.
His tears are more than worth it, when they are such happy tears. Momo couldn't be more glad for him.)