Chapter Text
Izuku carefully places the last cookie in the cardboard bakery box, a satisfied smile on his face. A content sigh leaves his lips as he removes the plastic glove from his hand and tosses it in the trash.
“Ah, those look delicious,” his mother, Inko, beams from behind him. He looks at her bright, enthusiastic expression over his shoulder. “You better be bringing these home. I’ve been craving your famous cookies lately.” She winks.
Izuku giggles. “They’re not famous, mom.”
Inko tuts and crosses her arms over her chest. Her forest green eyes narrow into a playful glare. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Izuku.” She bumps her hip against his. “Well, I’m going to head home and get started on dinner. Anything you’d like in particular?” she questions while putting on her coat.
Izuku shakes his head. “I want to organize the spice cabinet, so I’ll probably be here late. I was just going to grab something to eat on the way home,” he tells her.
Inko smiles warmly at her son and reaches up to ruffle his mess of green curls. “I’ll make extra for you, okay? Just eat it whenever you get home.”
“But—”
“Let me be a mother, would you?” Inko laughs. “Don’t forget to lock up.” Her hand gives him a gentle pat on the shoulder, her lips offering a quick kiss on his cheek. She grabs her bag and gives Izuku one last look over her shoulder before she exits the small bakery shop.
Like he said he would, Izuku makes his way to the spice cabinet. He gulps when he sees the scattered mess. Containers of cinnamon litter the floor, accompanied by bottles of different flavored extracts. There’s a spilled bag of brown sugar in the corner, the sweet grains blanketing over a pile of baking soda and baking powder containers.
Izuku sighs and rolls his sleeves up. It was going to be a long night.
In all honesty, Izuku enjoyed nights like this. After a long day working at the bakery and helping out his mom, he enjoyed having some alone time. He picks up the cinnamon containers, lining them up neatly on the shelf and organizes the variety of extracts next to them, sorted alphabetically.
Working in the family bakery shop was Izuku’s personal decision. His mother and aunt both came up with the idea, and his cousins were always a big help from the start. Inko had assured him that he didn’t have to participate, and told him it was more than okay for him to just focus on schoolwork, but of course, Izuku dismissed her.
Izuku knows his mother is worried. He knows she’s worried that Izuku will overwork himself and drown himself in more responsibilities than he can handle. Izuku isn’t dumb — he knows one of his ways to cope with stress is to work; whether it be studying, going to the gym, or taking on a job at the family business.
Children in this world manifest something called a ‘quirk’, which basically translates to one’s superpower. A child’s quirk is typically revealed around the age of four. Izuku’s lips twitch when he remembers the day Bakugou got his quirk. He remembers how nearly a year later, one of his friends had manifested their quirk. Some kids are late bloomers.
Izuku, on the other hand, was not one of those kids.
He didn’t get his mother’s telekinesis, or the ability to breathe fire like his father. At the age of sixteen, Izuku is still quirkless.
It used to tear him apart, that fact. Although it still isn’t a quality about him that makes him happy, it’s something he’s come to accept. There are other ways for him to help people. He doesn’t need a quirk. Would it be nice to have one? Yeah, of course. Does he need one though? No, he doesn’t.
At least, that’s what he tells himself.
Izuku exhales heavily and wipes the pearling sweat off his forehead. “There,” he breathes out, grinning proudly at his finished work. The room that originally looked as if it had been hit by a hurricane is now so tidy that it looks like a photograph.
The tick of the clock makes Izuku snap his eyes to it, wincing when he sees it’s almost nine o’clock at night. Have I really been here for two hours past closing time? Izuku hurries out of the spice cabinet and snatches his keys off the counter. He prays his mom isn’t still up and worrying about him.
Izuku grabs his box of cookies, that are surprisingly still somewhat warm, and kicks the door open. He balances the box of cookies with one hand as he locks the door behind him and makes his way to his car. He places the cookies in the passenger seat and slides into the driver’s side.
Ah, it’s already pitch black outside, Izuku thinks to himself absentmindedly as he begins his drive down the familiar road. I wonder what mom made for dinner… I kind of hope it’s katsudon. I could really go for some of mom’s katsudon.
Izuku pauses at a stop sign at a one way street, looking to his left to make sure no one’s coming as he spins the wheel to the right, his foot gently pressing down on the gas pedal. Maybe she made karaage… that’d be pretty good right now too, Izuku continues to think of the possible meals his mother might have prepared for him when he looks forward again. Izuku isn’t exactly sure what he expects to see, but he knows for a fact that he doesn’t expect to see the silhouette of someone right in front of his car.
Izuku yelps and slams down on the breaks, but not before he feels a thud against the front of his car. He watches the figure fall to the ground, and his blood freezes in his veins.
Oh my God. Izuku rips the car door open and flings himself outside. He bolts to the front of his car and shrieks.
He isn’t sure how long he stands there, screaming at the unmoving body in front of his vehicle, but it finally stops when he hears a grumbled, “Be quiet.”
Izuku snaps his mouth shut. “Oh God, you’re alive.” Izuku falls to his knees and buries his face in his hands. “Thank God,” he wheezes, relieved.
“You hardly hit me. I was just caught off guard,” the stranger mumbles, moving to stand up.
“Ah, wait!” Izuku jumps forward and grabs the stranger’s arm. They flinch back violently, and Izuku immediately recoils, embarrassed. “I-I’m sorry, it’s just, you shouldn’t get up too quickly. You could have a concussion!” he exclaims. “Hospital! Oh, yes we need to take you to a hospital!” Izuku cries, his hands waving around frantically.
“No.” The bite and coldness in the stranger’s voice sends a chill up Izuku’s spine, the hairs on the back of his neck straightening like soldiers. The stranger pushes himself up, and Izuku doesn’t make a move to assist him this time. “Do not take me to a hospital.”
“But—”
“I’m fine.” The stranger finally looks up, his face illuminated by the headlights of Izuku’s car.
The boy’s hair is covered by the hood of his sweatshirt, but Izuku can still somewhat make out his face despite the shadow it casts. His heterochromatic eyes are striking, a mark covering the majority of the left side of his face. Izuku can tell, even from this far, that the boy has flawless skin. It looks soft and smooth, begging to be touched.
Something about him — even though Izuku is positive he’s never met this person before because God he would definitely remember this person if he had met him before — is so oddly familiar. Maybe he’s never met him before, but has seen him before? Izuku isn’t sure — all he is sure of right now is that his heartbeat is anything but normal.
Beautiful. Izuku goes bright red at his unspoken thoughts, grateful for the night sky for concealing his colored cheeks.
“W-wait!” Izuku snaps out of his trance when the boy turns to walk away. “At least, uh, let me drive you to where ever you need to go!” His emerald eyes move down to stare at the cracked gravel. “It’s… it’s the least I could do.”
There’s a pause. “If I say yes, will you promise to not drive me to the hospital?”
Izuku stiffens. “But—”
“I’m not getting in your car if all you’re going to do is drive me to the hospital.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then Izuku’s shoulders slacken in defeat. “I won’t drive you to the hospital.”
Without another word, both Izuku and the (beautiful) stranger get inside Izuku’s car.
“Um.” The boy picks up the box of cookies in the passenger’s seat, giving Izuku a peculiar look. “Where do I—”
“If you don’t mind, you can just keep it on your lap… if that’s not too much trouble,” Izuku says warily while buckling his seatbelt. “Sorry, I just don’t want it flying everywhere if I put it in the back.” The stranger nods in understanding and places the box of cookies in his lap as he gets himself situated. “D-do you want one?”
The boy looks up, and Izuku’s breath is sucked out of his lungs once again. Is this person even real? Izuku wonders.
“I can have one?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and Izuku finds it a lot cuter than he’d like to admit.
“Of course!” Izuku beams. “I just made them a few hours ago.”
Izuku watches as the boy tentatively lifts up the top. He reaches inside and scans the array of chocolate chip cookies before grabbing one. “I don’t see these kinds of cookies around that often…” he muses, studying the treat in his hand.
“Ah, I started making them because of my cousin,” Izuku explains. “Her and her husband moved to America, and she couldn’t stop telling me about all the different desserts they had over there.”
The boy hums in reply. He turns the cookie over once more, and then he leans in and slowly lets his teeth sink into the soft delicacy. Izuku probably looks like such a creep with the way he’s staring at him, but God he just can’t help it. He’s absolutely mesmerized because how does someone look that good while eating a cookie?
Izuku’s heart pounds in his ears. It’s deafening — he’s nervous the beautiful stranger might actually be able to hear it. The way the stranger’s face lights up — his eyebrows raising and his mismatched irises shining over — makes Izuku dizzy.
“So…” Izuku drags, hopeful. “Do you like it?”
He looks over to him and gives him a small smile. It’s barely there, but it’s soft and genuine and makes Izuku’s tongue turn to lead.
“It’s delicious.”
A shaky exhale leaves Izuku’s lips. Heat spills over his freckled cheeks, and he snaps his eyes forward and tries to focus on the road. “G-good. I’m uh, I’m happy,” Izuku says through a nervous laugh. “So, um, where am I taking you to?”
“Ah.” The boy takes another bite of the cookie. “I stay at the dorms in U.A.”
Izuku smashes his foot on the break, both of them flying forward and getting yanked back by their seatbelts. “The fuck?” the stranger grunts, voice hoarse.
“You go to U.A.?!”
The stranger stares at Izuku like he’s an escaped asylum patient. “Yeah.”
Izuku points to himself. “I go to U.A.!”
“Is that so?” The stranger removes his hood and Izuku has to desperately fight off a gasp. “I don’t recognize you.”
“T-To—”
“To?” He tilts his head.
“T-Todoroki-san,” Izuku chokes out. Realization punches Izuku in the gut, practically knocking the wind out of him. Of course it’s Todoroki fucking Shouto. Is he stupid? The fire in his cheeks ignite, heat engulfing his entire face and spreading down the length of his throat and spilling across shoulders. “You’re Todoroki-san.”
Todoroki raises his eyebrows. “I am.”
Izuku wants to slap himself across the face for not noticing any sooner. “I uh, I watched you at the sports festival last year.” His fingers drum the steering wheel nervously. “You were, um, you were amazing.”
Realizing he had stopped in the middle of the road, Izuku squeaks and gently presses on the gas again, moving them forward. His knuckles turn white due to his tight grip on the steering wheel, and he has the sudden urge to bash his head through a wall.
“Thank you,” Todoroki answers monotonously.
“You might’ve been able to beat Kacchan if you had used your left side.”
“What?”
“Your quirk is half ice and half fire, right? I’m pretty sure that’s— not that I’m like, studying your or anything! Th-that’d be weird…” Izuku definitely wants to bash his head through a wall. Repeatedly. He lets out a quiet groan under his breath, mentally kicking himself. Why is he like this?
“No, you’re right.” Todoroki finishes his cookie and Izuku’s cheeks flare up when he sees him lick the pad of his thumb. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. “I’m not sure if I would have beat him, but maybe I would’ve had a better chance.”
Izuku swallows thickly, his tongue the texture of sandpaper. “Is there, uh, any reason that you didn’t use it? Your uh, fire side, I mean.”
Visibly, Todoroki stiffens. Izuku can physically feel the change in the atmosphere and wants nothing more than to go back in time and keep his mouth shut. It’s obvious he asked an unwanted question and has made Todoroki uncomfortable and now Todoroki probably hates him which is the last thing Izuku wants and—
“Do you do that a lot?”
Izuku jumps. “H-huh?”
“Mumble,” Todoroki says. “You were just doing that.”
“Was… was I talking out loud?” Izuku whispers with a slightly horrified tone.
Todoroki nods. “Kind of.”
“Oh my God.” Izuku groans and runs a hand down his face. “I’m so sorry about that. It’s sort of a habit I guess. I’ve been doing it ever since I was a kid; Kacchan used to always get mad at me whenever I did it, along with the other kids. I think people found it annoying, but I don’t even know I’m doing it and… and I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?” Izuku laughs awkwardly.
“Yes, you are,” Todoroki replies simply.
Izuku wants to die. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassment coiling in the pit of his stomach.
“I never said it bothered me,” Todoroki says. “It’s… interesting,” he manages, face proving it difficult to find the proper term. “Not bothersome, though.”
“Oh.” Izuku perks up a bit, forcing back a smile. “Th-thank you.”
The corner of Todoroki’s lips curl — barely. It’s such a tiny movement, and honestly, Izuku should not be watching Todoroki as closely as he is considering he’s driving, but he just can’t help himself. It’s as if Todoroki has a magnetic pull and Izuku couldn’t fight it even if he wanted to. The quirk of his lips is so subtle, and if it weren’t for the fact that Izuku is observing him so intently, he would’ve missed it.
It’s small, and Izuku isn’t even sure if it can be considered a smile.
But it has Izuku’s heart thundering in his chest and has him feeling like he’s moments away from combusting. The skin of his bottom lip breaks as he pierces his teeth into the sensitive flesh. Iron flavored crimson liquid clings onto his tastebuds, but Izuku couldn’t care less. He just wants to see that barely-there-but-undeniably-beautiful smile again.
“Are you coming?”
Izuku jumps back to reality. “Huh?”
Todoroki gestures to their surroundings, and Izuku realizes they’ve gotten to U.A. He should be a lot more worried than he is at the fact that he doesn’t even remember how he got here. “You go to school here, you said. You live in the dorms, don’t you?” Todoroki questions.
“Oh! Uh, yeah,” Izuku murmurs, scratching his cheek. “I live in the dorms for the support class, but we’re allowed to go home every once in awhile during the week. We’re not under as strict of house arrest as you and class 2-B are.” His lips curl into an awkward, uneven smile.
There’s a moment of silence before Todoroki nods slowly and intones, “I see.” He proceeds to unbuckle his seatbelt and carefully maneuver the box of cookies off his lap.
The click of the door being open tugs at Izuku’s chest because his stupid heart is screaming in his chest, pleading for Todoroki to stay, but at the same time also cowering away and waiting for Todoroki to leave because he isn’t sure how much longer he can keep his nerves under control.
His heart is giving him whiplash and Izuku has no idea what to say, but as he watches Todoroki step out of the car he ends up blurting, “You can have another one!” He mentally kicks himself at how high his pitch jumps. Todoroki looks over his shoulder, halfway out of the car, and raises an eyebrow at him. “I-I mean, you can have another cookie. If you want,” he mutters.
Izuku almost looks away, and he thanks his lucky stars that he didn’t because if he had, he would’ve missed the flash of surprise and then the soft smile that decorates Todoroki’s features. Watching in almost awe, Izuku’s eyes follow Todoroki’s hand as it reaches into the box and gingerly pulls out another cookie.
“Thank you...” His voice dies.
Izuku blinks, realizing he never told Todoroki what his name is. “Midoriya! Midoriya Izuku!” he says, probably louder than necessary.
“Thank you, Midoriya,” Todoroki says and Izuku’s throat closes because wow his name has never sounded so good. “For the ride home as well.”
“Well, I did hit you with my car.” A nervous, airy laugh pours from his lips. “It was the least I could do.”
Todoroki gives him a small nod and steps out of the car completely. “Goodnight, Midoriya.”
He could listen to Todoroki say his name all damn day. “G-goodnight, Todoroki-san.”
“The ‘san’ isn’t necessary,” he says.
Izuku’s cheeks color. “Th-then… Todoroki-kun?”
A heartbeat of silence passes, and then Todoroki looks downward, an attempt to hide his face, but Izuku can still make out the slight upward turn of his lips. “That’s fine,” he finally responds.
“Well then,” Izuku starts with a grin, “goodnight, Todoroki-kun.”
The door clicks shut, and Izuku stays there until he can no longer see the outline of Todoroki’s figure. Fingers rake through his mess of curls and Izuku presses his forehead against the steering wheel, exhaling dramatically.
He’s going to need two servings of katsudon tonight, and probably the rest of the cookies, to calm his pounding heart.