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Todoroki is well acquainted with the sensation of burning. This familiarity comes from two things; being forced to use the quirk he never wanted, or from the person who gave him that quirk in the first place. Neither are very pleasant reasons.
So when Todoroki feels the familiar prickling of heat while sitting in the common room at the U.A. dorms, he first checks to see if his left side hadn’t somehow activated. Then, after ruling out that possibility, he’s seized with the quiet fear that his father had somehow found his way here and, unfazed by the other students milling about, had come to punish him.
Methodically, he checks around the common room, careful not to give himself away.
His search turns up blank. The only people in the room are him, Midoriya and Iida. He’s not in danger—he would go as far to say that this is the safest he’s felt in quite a while.
Yet, the feeling persists. It’s not threatening per se, more of a peculiarity than anything, but with the only two sources ruled out, Todoroki can’t for the life of him figure out what could be causing it.
This bemusement apparently shows on his face, because while he’s distracted Iida is shifting towards him, asking in that endearingly concerned tone of his “Todoroki? You seem rather off kilter. Is it that you’re confused by the English homework?”
Todoroki looks down at the English textbook in his lap, ignored from the moment he had opened it. It’s there to make him look like he’s doing something more than anything, giving him an excuse to join the other two in their study session, and he shakes his head at Iida’s question. Midoriya looks over at that point, his questioning gaze joining Iida’s in their scrutiny of Todoroki.
The burning distinctly increases, and Todoroki realizes pretty quickly that he needs to assuage their worries if he wants to get anywhere in his self-reflection.
He says “Don’t worry, I was just lost in thought.”. It’s not a lie, and Midoriya and Iida know him well enough by now to know how engrossed he can get in his head. They accept this answer and return to their homework, leaving Todoroki with his open textbook and his closed mind.
He stares down at it for a while longer, willing it to give him more information than how to conjugate verbs, but it does not yield. Defeated, he lifts his gaze to see his two friends actually doing work, thankfully too busy to notice any staring contests with textbooks occurring in their immediate vicinity. If he lets his gaze linger for far too long than it should, emboldened by the concentration in their faces—well, he allows himself the indulgence.
He surveys Midoriya and Iida, candid and unaware. Midoriya’s face is full of a genuine concentration, the same kind of look he gets on his face when he’s in the middle of battle. Midoriya pours everything he has into everything he does; approaching all of his life with that same enduring passion. The microcosm of global warming that his body had become continues to burn.
It’s a little overwhelming, Midoriya is always a little overwhelming, so Todoroki switches tracks to watch Iida instead. He doesn’t know why he thought that would remedy the flames batting at his heart, he really doesn’t. Iida’s face lights up whenever he gets an answer right, periods of intense concentration interpolated by brief, blissful flashes of happiness that for some reason, coincide with the spikes of heat in his head.
Todoroki thinks he’s smoking. He slams shut his textbook, catching the attention of both Iida and Midoriya and he’s only just too busy burning up to regret disturbing their peace.
“I’m going back to my room. I’m tired.” He announces. Iida frowns.
“Do you need anything, Todoroki? You look sickly.” He says and Todoroki shakes his head, his mouth too dry at the plain care in Iida’s tone to reply.
“If you change your mind, we’ll be here, Todoroki!” Midoriya adds. Todoroki has never had a fever in his life, but he feels what can only be described as—feverish.
He walks away before he accidentally sets anything on fire. In the privacy of his room, he freezes over half of the walls before he’s quite cool enough to think straight. That being most of his problem.
Later that day, Todoroki pulls out his phone.
2:09 - todoroki
Yaoyorozu
I have a dilemma
She replies almost instantly.
2:09 - yaoyorozu
What is it Todoroki?
Where are you?
Should I call Sensei?
She covers her bases immediately, the textbook example danger responses appearing on Todoroki’s screen and he can almost feel the urgency behind them.
2:10 - todoroki
Dont worry its nothing bad
I just wanted to talk
The typing bubble pops up, then disappears, then returns again.
2:11 - yaoyorozu
Oh okay!
Do you want to meet outside then? By the oval?
We can take a walk.
Todoroki sends a quick okay and sets his phone down, briefly overcome with mild panic. He isn’t exactly sure what he’s trying to achieve with this, his alarm turning the impending meeting into a monumental task. His brain runs damage control before it gets too out of hand, reminding him that of all the people in U.A., Yaoyorozu would know how to deal with his current situation best. He breathes out.
It is this faith, this simple trust in her, that propels him out of his room and sets his feet on course for the oval.
Yaoyorozu is already there when he arrives, and she greets him with just the right amount of happiness, curiosity and concern. It’s a warm, gentle feeling. He gives her what he hopes resembles a smile—he is never too sure, and she smiles back, assuaging his concerns.
“So, did you want to go around the oval?” She asks and he’s reminded of his earlier agreement to a walk.
He finds doesn’t particularly want to, so he shakes his head and clears his throat awkwardly, saying “I’d rather sit.”
She nods, already pulling out a sheet of simple plastic from her palm and spreading it out on the steps below. She sits down on it, patting the spot next to her. He obliges.
“What did you want to talk about?” She asks, her tone encouraging.
Now that he’s here, he isn’t exactly sure how to start. The air around them is silent for a bit and Todoroki—never one for dithering and being roundabout, decides to get straight to the point.
“Yaoyorozu, do you like anybody?”
She blinks at him a few times, evidently unsure what to make of his inquiry. Todoroki stares at her intently, waiting for a response. She looks away from him, the movement a little more frantic than normally warranted.
The faint blush in her cheeks gives her away before her words do.
“Y-yeah, I guess I do, haha— where did that come from?”
Todoroki deftly ignores her attempt at changing the conversation and presses on, asking “What does it feel like?” She blinks rapidly again, and if the thought hadn’t been so absurd, Todoroki would say he can hear the cogs turning in her head.
At some point in her deliberation, Yaoyorozu has created a small matryoshka doll and is now rolling it around in her hands absently. She still manages to meet Todoroki’s eyes, which impresses him; he knows he could never be so open in the same situation.
When her answer finally comes, it is measured and wistful, level words coupled with a soaring tone.
“I suppose it’s like, a seed has taken root... in my heart?” Her face goes a shade redder. “And it just keeps growing and growing, and the roots dig deeper and further and you can try to stop it but it— it flowers. It blossoms. And there’s nothing I can do.”
Todoroki nods as Yaoyorozu finally glances away from him, looking bewildered and embarrassed and utterly in love. It’s not the exact analogy Todoroki would’ve used but he can recognize the feeling she describes easily, familiarity in the way her face warms up and her hands clench and her eyes soften.
“Do you like anyone, Todoroki?” Yaoyorozu’s tone is gentle, like she’s aware of the many nights Todoroki had spent agonizing, denying vehemently the concept—the fact.
He nods, and he can’t bring himself to meet her eyes. He breathes “For me it’s—it’s more like a fire.”
She laughs softly at that.
“Like a really slow, but enduring fire. And it burns steadily and I can’t put it out at all and the flames are slowly spreading and usually, it’s sort of nice and warm but sometimes it’s way too much and I get hot and overwhelmed like somebody’s thrown a lot of wood onto it and—”
Todoroki has to stop because he is breathless, his words running away from him like a flame turned to a blaze. When he finally catches his breath and can bring himself to look at Yaoyorozu, there is recognition in her eyes and she smiles at him, a secret shared.
“Is it Midoriya or Iida?”
Todoroki looks away from her immediately. There’s a jolt of alarm, a second of disorientation, like when one is shaken awake from a nap and he has to concentrate, exert all of his self-control to get his wildly running heart back in line. He is glad that she is sitting on his right side because he is fairly sure he’s burning up, judging by the slight smell of smoke in the air.
“Is it that obvious?” He croaks.
Yaoyorozu shakes her head, accompanying the movement with a “No, no, don’t worry!” She pats him on the right shoulder gently, avoiding the patches of ice spreading here and there.
“It was just a guess. An… educated guess? I was going off of a feeling, really.”
An educated guess. Nobody on this planet has any right being as smart as Yaoyorozu Momo.
Todoroki’s body temperature eventually regulates and when it does, he’s overcome with embarrassment at the undignified reaction. Yaoyorozu doesn’t mention it, and it’s a small mercy that less forgiving people aren’t around it see his emotional recoil. With more thought, he guesses it’s only fair that he is also reduced to a blushing, stuttering mess after what he put Yaoyorozu through earlier.
He returns his gaze to her and she is looking at him fondly, amusement softening her face. It’s not exactly a look he’s used to, not anymore and he thinks his face is starting to redden again.
Shaking away his flustered thoughts, he says “And for you… Jirou, right?”
Todoroki might have done that on purpose. Yaoyorozu’s mouth drops and she returns to the scarlet shade she had been earlier with a speed that puts Iida to shame. Another matryoshka doll forms in her hands and she clutches at it, twisting it open and closed as she mumbles.
“Am I that obvious?” She parrots back his words.
He feels a little bad when he says it, but there’s no hesitation in the soft “A little,” he responds with. She groans and sets aside her dolls to cover her flaming face with her hands.
“Jirou’s cool.” Todoroki offers. “I can see why somebody would like her.” He says the words with all the experience of somebody who has never been romantically interested in a girl in their life.
Yaoyorozu nods, face still hidden.
“Isn’t she...” The words are muffled through the cover of her palms, but that doesn’t seem to stop Yaoyorozu. “And uh, same to you, with…” she trails off, lifting her head and fixing Todoroki with a questioning gaze. “Which of them is it?”
Todoroki clearly remembers the “Is it Midoriya or Iida” that Yaoyorozu had assaulted him with earlier—he’s afraid that in ten years those words will still ring in his head with unwanted clarity, how unforgettable they are. The light, easy air of the moments before is gone now, replaced with Todoroki’s uncertainty and gripping fears and they stay his tongue for a while. Silence fills the space between him and Yaoyorozu.
She is patient. She is kindly expectant. Todoroki finds it within him, among all the glaciers and firestorms wreaking havoc in his head, to speak.
“I think it’s… it’s both of them.”
Todoroki forces himself to look at her because he needs to see the reaction, needs to record it for further reference—in case he needs a reminder for the next time he attempts this. Yaoyorozu has that look in her eyes again, the one where she’s fitting the puzzle pieces together and the image is slowly coming into view, finally within her reach. The dread sets in before Todoroki can see Yaoyorozu come to a conclusion.
Before the acknowledgement can click in her eyes, Todoroki continues talking.
“That’s—that’s weird, isn’t it? It’s not… what normal people do. I’m—I’m not normal.” He has already taken her silence as defeat, letting the feeling seep into his words and sink into his mind, making sure the ache stays so that he remembers to not make the same mistakes next time. He’s about to leave, to walk away and resign himself to the loss of a classmate, a confidant, a friend, when Yaoyorozu places a hand over his own clenched one and stops him in place.
“What are you talking about?” She says, sincere and steadfast. “That’s not weird at all! That just means you have a lot of love to give, right?”
Todoroki freezes. He considers.
You have a lot of love to give .
Slowly, his tense muscles unwind. His breath comes a little easier. His heartbeat steadies. He almost feels like laughing, how light he feels. Trust Yaoyorozu to somehow put the problem he has spent the past few months in emotional turmoil over to rest with a seven word summary. Trust Yaoyorozu to always know what to say.
And Todoroki, with all his incomprehension and unfamiliarity to the act, trusts.
“Trust me, Todoroki. It’s perfectly normal. You should tell them how you feel.” Todoroki dares to glance up at her and there is no sign of deception in her face, only a bright honesty and fondness. “Midoriya and Iida could never push you away.”
He still thinks that nobody has the right to be as smart as her, but he’s beginning to warm to Yaoyorozu’s perception and intelligence. It certainly seems more reasonable than his overflowing emotions and burning fires. She is right. Todoroki trusts her, and he trusts Midoriya and Iida just as much and he feels silly, almost ashamed, for ever doubting.
“It’s scary,” he confesses and Yaoyorozu nods sagely. She opens her mouth to reply when there’s a shout from behind them, the noise like a jolt of electricity to the system.
“Yaoyorozu! Todoroki! There you guys are!” Kaminari Denki arrives on the scene, announcing his presence like he’s already a hero swooping in to save the day. Todoroki and Yaoyorozu both turn to look at him as he runs up to them, words already spilling faster than Todoroki can catch.
They stop abruptly. Kaminari’s eyes widen. His gaze is trained on the place between the two, where Yaoyorozu’s hand still lies on top of Todoroki’s.
“W-wait, are you guys on a—” but he cannot finish the incredulous question because Yaoyorozu and Todoroki are both pulling back their hands and fixing him with glares and he can take a hint well enough to know that he’s being told to shut up.
“No,” Yaoyorozu dutifully informs him, “we are not on a date.” Todoroki nods gravely to back her up.
Kaminari grins. “Good,” he says, leaving both Todoroki and Yaoyorozu confused, “because Jirou wants to talk to you, Yaoyorozu.”
Yaoyorozu’s voice is a little higher than normal when she responds. “Oh. What for?”
Kaminari’s grin only increases in wattage. “I’m just the messenger, you should ask her that yourself.” It’s easy to see the sly glint in Kaminari’s eyes and Todoroki has plenty of reason to be suspicious—and plenty of reason to let it happen anyway.
Yaoyorozu brushes herself off, collecting the discarded matryoshka dolls she had made in her distress, and stands up. Todoroki follows, and then it’s her, him and Kaminari, all standing in a circle.
“Lead the way, Kaminari,” Yaoyorozu says, her voice still lacking strength. Kaminari looks them both up and down then nods, turning towards the U.A. dorm building in the distance.
“Man,” he says as he walks, his back to them, “I’m kinda glad you guys aren’t dating. If the two hottest people—excuse the pun, Todoroki—in our class started going out, I don’t think my heart could take it.”
Todoroki snorts at that. He can’t help it, Kaminari is so blatantly open with his thoughts it has stopped being alien and become endearing.
Kaminami yells “Hey! Yaoyorozu look! I think that’s the closest I’ve seen him come to genuine amusement!” excitedly, and Yaoyorozu has to smile along.