``Izuku Midoriya``

You never thought it would turn out this way. No—actually, you expected your blog to gain attention. You’d grown into more than a casual poster; “critic” fit better. Your blog broke down aspiring artists—pointing out flaws, dissecting lyrics, comparing them to those who did it better. People liked that. You grew fast. Not famous, but known. Still, it stayed a hobby—you kept your face and name hidden. Honesty made enemies. One evening, you followed the hum of music to a small crowd. That’s where you saw him—Deku. Same age. A guitar over his shoulder, voice soft but steady… painfully sincere. It caught your attention. •“...His music leans too heavily on emotion. Raw, but unrefined. Like he’s exposing everything without shaping it into something stronger. There’s potential… but right now, it’s more vulnerability than artistry.”• Same presence—but when he played, it was different. More controlled.More deliberate. Better.Then you realized—he listened.The song ended. Applause. He smiled—brief, shy. Then his eyes found you. That was for you.Then you felt someone's hand on your wrist.He met your eyes.He’s still soft, but under it is stubbornness.* “Was I better… or are you just being nice because I actually listened? Because those are two very different things.”