MHA REINCARNATION!

The blinding lights of the stage faded as I practically collapsed backstage, the roar of the crowd still ringing in my ears. Another sold-out show, another wave of manufactured smiles and expertly choreographed moves. Being Shoto Todoroki, the number three J-Pop idol, was exhausting. But the exhaustion wasn't the problem. The problem was Tenya Iida, my manager, my best friend, and the man who held my hopelessly smitten heart in his dependable, responsible hands.

We'd been inseparable since high school. He was the class president, always organized, always striving for excellence. I was... well, I was the quiet one with the heterochromatic eyes and a burning ambition to escape the shadow of my father. Tenya saw something in me, a raw talent he insisted needed to be nurtured. He practically forced me to join the school's music club, and that's where it all began. He's been my rock, my confidante, my guiding star ever since. He's always been there, meticulously planning every tour, every interview, every excruciatingly upbeat public appearance. He's the reason I'm standing here, a pop star with 29 Grammys, living a life that feels both surreal and suffocating.

And he has no idea I'm hopelessly in love with him.

The feelings started subtly, a warmth that spread through me whenever his hand brushed mine as he handed me a schedule, a flutter in my chest when he offered a rare, genuine smile. Over time, that warmth became a raging fire, a constant ache in my chest. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and utterly impossible. How could I, Shoto Todoroki, jeopardize everything we'd built for a foolish crush? How could I confess my feelings to the man who might not feel the same way and risk losing him forever?

Desperate, I did something I hadn't done in years. I sought out my brother, Touya.

We hadn't spoken since he'd been kicked out of the house when I was thirteen. Dad had deemed him a failure, unable to control his quirk. Touya, now known as Dabi, had carved out a new life, a life of gritty lyrics and raw emotion as one of Japan's top rappers. He was everything I wasn't, and maybe, just maybe, he had the answer I desperately needed.

The address he reluctantly gave me led to a surprisingly stylish loft in a less-than-reputable part of town. The door was answered by a man with messy black hair, piercing turquoise eyes, and burn scars that whispered of a past I knew all too well. Dabi.

"Shoto," he said, his voice raspy. "Didn't expect to see you. Heard you were doing the pop star thing."

The sarcasm was thick, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes, something that resembled... concern?

"I... I need advice," I mumbled, suddenly feeling like the awkward teenager I used to be.

He raised an eyebrow. "Advice from the burnt-out rapper? This should be good." He gestured me inside. The apartment was a chaotic mix of instruments, recording equipment, and half-empty takeout containers. It was a far cry from the pristine perfection of my penthouse.

I explained my predicament, the words tumbling out in a rush of anxiety and repressed emotion. "I'm in love with Iida. My manager. He's… everything. But he's also… I don't know if he feels the same way. And I don't want to ruin what we have."

Dabi took a long drag from a cigarette. "So, you're afraid. Welcome to the club, little brother. Look, Shoto, I'm not exactly an expert on romance, but from where I'm sitting, you only have one choice."

"What?"

"Be yourself. Tell him. Yeah, it might be awkward. Yeah, it might blow up in your face. But living with that 'what if' is going to eat you alive. And besides," he added with a rare, genuine smile, "you might be surprised."

"Be myself…" I repeated, the words feeling foreign. Being 'Shoto Todoroki, the number three J-Pop idol' wasn't exactly being myself.

"Yeah. The Shoto that I remember. The one who wasn't afraid to speak his mind. The one who wasn't afraid to take a chance." He suddenly looked uncomfortable. "So, how's life been otherwise?"

We talked for hours. We talked about family, the suffocating pressure of Dad's expectations, the loneliness of our separate lives. He poured us both some surprisingly good wine, and we reminisced about childhood memories – building snow forts in the backyard, sneaking out to watch fireworks, the brief moments of genuine connection before everything fell apart. I asked him when he knew he was gay.

Dabi chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. "Been knew I was gay. Always had a crush on my best friend from elementary school. Never told him, of course. Point is, don't be like me, Shoto. Don't let fear dictate your life."

The next day, as I walked into my penthouse, I saw Tenya at the kitchen working. Another late night, another mountain of paperwork. The relentless dedication that both attracted and intimidated me.

I walked to the coffee marker, I made my way to him and said, "Let's talk." My voice was steadier than I thought it would be.

He looked up, his brow furrowed with concern. "Is something wrong, Shoto? Sales figures are up, rehearsals are on track…"

I cut him off. "It's not about work. It's about… us."

I sat down on a stool, my heart pounding in my chest. I made us both coffee, the silence stretching between us, thick and heavy. I took a deep breath, remembering Dabi's words.

"Tenya," I said, my voice trembling slightly, "I... I have something to tell you. Something that's been building for a long time."

His eyes widened, and he set down his pen. "Shoto, you're worrying me. What is it?"

"I…" I hesitated, then plunged in. "I'm in love with you, Tenya."

The words hung in the air, stark and vulnerable. The clatter of the coffee cups falling from his hand was the only sound that managed to break the silence. His face was a kaleidoscope of emotions – shock, disbelief, and something else, something I couldn't quite decipher.

"Shoto…" he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. "I… I don't know what to say."

I closed my eyes, bracing myself for rejection. "Say anything. Just… please, don't pretend you don't understand."

When i open my eyes, his faced was flushed, and his gaze was intense and unwavering. "Shoto, you have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words."

That was when I heard his confession. He was in love with me too. The responsible, uptight Tenya Iida, my dedicated manager, had been harboring feelings for me all this time. He had been afraid to confess, fearing rejection and the potential ruin of our professional relationship.

Relief washed over me in a tidal wave. The years of longing, the agonizing uncertainty, all dissolved in that single moment. I reached out and took his hand, my fingers intertwining with his.

"Tenya," I said, my voice thick with emotion, "does this mean that you feel the same way?"

He squeezed my hand, his grip surprisingly strong. "Absolutely, Shoto. I've been in love with you for years, but I never thought you could feel the same way."

He leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek, and kissed me. It was a kiss that held years of unspoken feelings, a kiss that promised a future I had only dared to dream of.

In that moment, standing in my penthouse, the city lights twinkling outside the window, I realized that being Shoto Todoroki, the number three J-Pop idol, wasn't so bad after all. Because it had led me to Tenya. And now, finally, we could be ourselves, together.