hand-wash only

"Hey asshole, are you just going to sit there and hog the machine all day?" A gruff voice barks out from his left side.

Shouto raises his head and tries to meet their stare. Between the blurriness of his own eyes and the way they're standing directly under the fluorescent overhead lights, he can't make out much beyond a round, spiky silhouette. The halo of their hair is light, like a dandelion, he thinks.

There's no shame in having to do the same load of laundry over and over again because you keep forgetting to dry it before it starts to smell off, to fold it before it gets wrinkled. It takes time, but Shouto realizes that people are the same way. It's okay to save the difficult work for another time, for when you're ready to fold it, and to put it away. Once he does, he realizes he's free to do things he wants to do, to meet people that want to meet him halfway. Katsuki would tell him that Shouto got there on his own, but Shouto insists that he's being too humble. Because while that work must be done alone, the help you get along the way matters.