“When I looked into your eyes, I saw my future go up in flames,” Sam says.

Though only in his mind.

Rather, he wants to say as he looks at Hiro. How poetic that would be.

He’s sure Hiro wouldn’t take to something so romantic. That they would just scoff and punch him lightly (way too hard) on the arm in a playful gesture and call him an idiot.

And Sam wouldn’t protest, even though it’s true. Hiro changed him.

Every time he sees Hiro, their expressive face smiling back at him, it’s like he’s seeing them for the first time again.

He was just a recruit back then, crushed by the insecurity of this competitive field. He wanted to be a contracted superhero for as long as he knew he was powered.

Everyone kind of expected him to be too, except his parents. His parents didn’t expect anything of him really—they just wanted him to be happy. And being at the hero’s academy made him miserable.

They had been telling him for months to move on, to do what he wanted. What he wanted was to drop out and find something that made him happy. He didn’t care if he was being a coward, he didn’t care that he was being a quitter. Until he met Hiro.

Chivalry, they were called when the mask was on. And chivalrous they were. He had seen the news reports of the knightly hero on the rise, smacking down villains in guided armor with a flashy sword. Everyone was a fan and even Sam had to admit——he admired them.

But when he saw them for the first time, locked eyes in the academy’s mess hall, he felt something. The way that Hiro’s dark eyes looked back at him, he could tell they felt something too.

“I’m Takahiro.”

Sitting across from him, Sam stared dumbfounded, his eyes tracing over their face as if to memorize their delicate features, their pink lips and the way their dark hair fell across their brow.

“I’m Sam.”

He can’t remember the conversation but he remembers how it felt, how charming and effortless Hiro was—even then. The two of them seemed to fit perfectly into place, the rest of the mess hall falling away.

Hiro put up a good front. They were a clown, disguising real pain under dark jokes. The more they talked, the more Sam could see there was something weighing them down.

“Why are you here?” He asked, the elephant in the room crashing on the both of them as Sam bluntly materialized it.

Hiro looked unfazed, but made no answer.

“You graduated, so why are you back at the academy?” Sam asked again.

“There’s always more to learn,” Hiro said with a shrug.

Maybe it would have fooled someone else. Hiro was a performer first, a vigilante second. That’s why Sam was so bad at this—he couldn’t lie the way the others could. He wore his heart on his sleeve.

But to him, Hiro did too.

“Your debut was successful. You’re all over the news,” Sam argued casually.

Hiro looked him over skeptically, lips in a frown, brows drawn together. Then they smiled, somewhere between sheepish and sly.

“I’m looking for a partner.”

Sam laughed. “What—like a sidekick?”

“Most people don’t like that word.”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind it.”

Hiro chuckled.

Sam liked the sound of their laugh. It was deep but not exactly masculine.

“So you want to be my sidekick?” Hiro asked.

Maybe it would have shocked Sam if Hiro hadn’t been so cavalier, if he didn’t think that Hiro was partly joking, just testing the waters.

Sam looked away as he pretended to consider it. He had been debating for the past few months if he even wanted to be a hero anymore. His powers were hard to control, he didn’t have the personality for it, it was easier for him when some one else took the lead. Maybe being a sidekick was better for him.

He looked back up at Hiro’s expectant face.

“I’ve been here for the past week, watching all the heroes-to-be,” Hiro explained. “And I’ve seen what you can do.”

Sam could feel a flush growing under the surface of his skin as he thought about Hiro watching him train.

“What did you think?” He asked, trying his hardest to play it cool, even if his stuttering heartbeat betrayed him.

Hiro smirked, dark eyelashes almost fluttering as they blinked. “You’re fire powered. That’s rare and—I imagine—really hard to control. A lot flashier than what I can do.”

Sam scoffed, crossing his arms and looking away slightly abashed. He knew he hadn’t done anything flashy with his powers since he was a dumb teenager.

He would kill to be powered like Hiro—super strength. Easier to control, less likely to destroy everything in its path—useful.

“But you’re not flashy are you?” Hiro said leaning in closer, their elbows resting on the table.

Sam looked back over at Hiro. Their tone was still casual, still bordering flirtatious.

“You don’t mean to steal the show, but you do anyway,” Hiro continued.

“That thing you do with the fire barrier? Ingenious,” Hiro praised.

Sam was certain the flush had fully spread, heating his face and the tips of his ears in visible bright red.

Hiro smiled at him then and there was a sincerity, as if the mask had slipped away. He could see through Hiro. They weren’t some great hero—not yet but he could see one day they would be. Under the performer, they were real, realer than most.

“You’re radiant, Sam,” Hiro said and there it was.

The look in Hiro’s eyes looking back at him. It was so bright, as bright as the flames he conjured, maybe even brighter and it ignited all his doubts and reduced them to ash.

Hiro held out their hand. “So what do you think? Wanna be my ‘radiant shield’?”

He was stunned, utterly so. His heart pounded hard and painfully and alive in his chest. He knew.

He knew he wanted nothing more.

“A radiant shield, fit for a knight.”