Clary has never been any good at putting things back together. When they were in middle school and she accidentally knocked over Simon’s Lego Millennium Falcon, he’d already known to say it was fine repeatedly and usher her out the door instead of accepting her offer to help him rebuild it; if he’d let her try, the wings would have ended up upside down and there suddenly wouldn't have been space for the engine. Her heart is in the right place, usually, but it doesn't often translate to her hands. So when he hears through the shadow world gossip mill that Alec's parabatai rune disappeared briefly, it doesn't take more than one look at Jace’s face to know that she’s been fucking around with the threads of fate again. And, well. She's never been that great at sewing, either.

Shouta’s plan had been ill-defined and desperate from the start, but he figures the important shit boiled down to, “Change as little as possible, make sure Midoriya doesn’t get himself killed, and stock up on lychee jelly pouches because that flavor got discontinued three years from now.” Keeping it simple’s always better, and he’s normally good at improvising. Somewhere along the way, he must’ve fucked up since now he has: A quirkless problem child hanging off of his every word His best friend going through a sexuality crisis thanks to said problem child’s mom His other best friend clinging to him like a security blanket Some two-bit mob boss threatening him with bouquets of daffodils To wring the number one hero’s fucking neck for not telling him anything useful before sending him decades into the past All he did was walk Izuku Midoriya home. It wasn’t meant to turn into whatever mess this is.