Chapter Text
The first time he does it is out of pure spite. He feels childish even as he silently closes the window behind himself, carefully footing his way down, branch by branch, breath by breath. His hands are shaking but he ignores that. His thoughts are screaming at him but he ignores that too. Instead he concentrates on lowering himself slowly, carefully. There is light coming from the kitchen window, which helps him see, but it also tells him that that man is still awake. Still there, right there. He climbs a little faster, careful to keep out of sight.
The short sprint toward the front gate is the riskiest part with no cover to hide behind but it all goes smoothly. Adrenaline still curses through him at full speed as Shouto leans against the wall surrounding the estate. It feels like he crossed a line he has never dared cross before and it’s both liberating and suffocating in its terror. He thinks about turning back. He can still go back. Without even realizing it his legs carry him forward, away, away.
The night is clear and full of stars, the moon is almost full, providing him with enough light to stroll along the street. Everything looks different like this, cloaked in the gentle veil of a windy autumn night. He almost doesn’t recognize Miss Tamazaki’s yard, full of color and overflowing with all kinds of trees and flowers during the day, but now there are only creepy shapes and spooky shades. Shouto doesn’t know where he’s going exactly. Right now all he knows is that he is a fucking idiot. None of this stupid defiance will change anything. So he ran away, then what? He’s still gonna have to go back. In the end he will have to return that house. And there will be hell to pay. He will endure it as he always does and then things will continue as they were. Nothing changes. Nothing ever changes.
He takes the next left, out of the neighborhood and keeps walking. The cool air feels crisp in his lungs but he doesn’t regulate his body temperature. Every prickle down his throat screams freedom to him and he takes long, deep breaths. He isn’t wearing a scarf even though he should, but he’s never gotten sick before. That bastard’s quirk is good for something.
He passes by his old middle school. He contemplates just staying here for a few minutes, looking at it. It’s hard to believe that just hours before he attended his graduation ceremony here, it feels like weeks ago. He won’t miss this place, holds no particular feelings for it. His feet carry him past it, walking straight for a while until he takes a right on the next intersection. A few cars pass him by as he waits for the light to turn green but his hood keeps him shielded from prying eyes. He’s never walked this way before, he must be around twenty minutes away from his house by now. It feels like he’s stepping into a different country. The streets get a bit narrower, there are more houses, the yards are smaller and fenced in with actual fences, no walls anywhere.
A dog barks at him and he almost jumps out of his skin but he pushes forward. His head is comfortably empty. Tension falls off him with every step, like crust chipping away. Flashes of thoughts come and go, nothing lingers. He just, walks. The neighborhood is quiet, as expected of this time of night. An owl hoots somewhere, the rustling of leaves follows him gently like a shadow, the air is fresh and clean. It’s gonna snow soon, he thinks, looking past a smoking chimney and into the sky. There is a bite to the wind that nips at his skin even through his thick hoodie and he’s starting to genuinely get cold. How much time has passed? He must have been gone for half an hour at least. Surely the bastard already noticed his absence and is wrecking havoc right now. Shouto grimaces and mentally apologizes to Fuyumi, who is sure to be on the receiving end on that man’s temper until Shouto returns.
He remembers Natsuo moving out just a few days ago. How he and Fuyumi had helped him quickly and swiftly put all of his belongings into cardboard boxes before loading them into Natsuo’s friend’s car. He had hugged Fuyumi briefly but with genuine concern in his voice as he had asked her if she was absolutely sure. She had only punched his shoulder and pushed him toward the car, reassuring him with her smile and promises of being okay. Shouto and Natsuo had exchanged a one-armed hug without words before Natsuo had jumped into the passenger seat and they were left to stand and watch the car peel out of the driveway. Shouto had watched him go with a mix of resentment, jealousy and longing. Take me with you, he had want to say, why can’t I leave this place this easily.
Maybe that was the catalyst for tonight. Maybe he wanted to get out of there too, this being the only way he can. He doesn’t have a car, doesn’t have a friend, doesn’t have that man’s indifference ensuring that he won’t be dragged back.
The bastard likely wouldn’t have stopped Natsuo even if he had been home at the time, but the Todoroki siblings had feared that he might forbid it, just on principle. Shouto hasn’t heard him even so much as mention it once. That night the shitty old man had simply sat down, accepted the food Fuyumi had served them and accepted one more empty chair at the dining table. Shouto had barely kept down his food that night, choking on jealousy and frustration and anger. He can feel those emotions still inside him, even now, boiling just under the surface.
He breathes in the cold air and shivers, stuffing his hands inside the front pocket of his hoodie and hunching his shoulders. On his next step he almost trips over a stone and realizes that at some point he left the sidewalk and entered what looks to be a tiny park. If it can even be called that. It’s just a bit of greenery, a few trees and sign that tells dog owners to clean up after their dogs.
For the second time that night Shouto almost jumps out of his skin when he hears a shrill “Eeep!” coming from one of the benches. His head whips around so fast his hood slips back, but all he sees is a vague shape under the dark shadow of a tree.
Before he can call out a thin voice reaches him, “D-Don’t come closer! I-I-I’m super strong!” It sounds like a kid. Shouto feels his fear leave him and instead finds himself concerned with what a kid would be doing out here this time of night.
He decides not to heed the warning and walks toward the tree. “Sorry if I startled you”, he says even though he’s pretty sure he was the one being startled, “I’m just taking a walk.” As he’s speaking he’s coming close enough to see more clearly and is surprised to find a boy around his age. With dark, messy hair and the most out of place red shoes the boy looks about ready to bolt, not seeming placated by his words.
“Ah. Um…” is all he says, not looking directly at Shouto yet never leaving him out of sight either.
Shouto notices a bruise on his chin, aggressively standing out against his freckled skin, and blood lazily trickling down his knee from where his pants are torn. “Are you alright?”
The boy’s eyes flicker to meet his own for only a second before he looks back to the side. A self-conscious laugh leaves him and he touches his chin. “You mean this? I just tripped, it’s fine. Thanks for your concern though!” Shouto can see that it most decidedly is not fine. He notices it’s not only the chin and knee, but there are bruises under the boy’s eyes and his whole body is shivering. His fingers, where they’re anxiously wringing in the boy’s lap, are cut open in places.
An awkward silence settles between them for a few seconds until their eyes meet again and this time the boy doesn’t look away. His eyebrows pinch together and he leans slightly forward. “Are you alright? You got-“ He gestures toward his own face and Shouto realizes what he means, his own hand flying upward to cover the left side of his face. The boy flinches from the sudden movement but keeps looking with what Shouto realizes must be concern.
He can hear his next breath coming out shaky and forces out, “Yeah, that-s, ah, old. Just, a scar.”
“Oh” the boy breathes.
Then more silence stretches between them and Shouto can’t remember the last time he felt this painfully awkward. He readjusts his hood and lets his hand sink back into his warm pocket. It still hurts, even after all this time, every time he is reminded of it. Forced to carry it around, let everyone see it. Only a shred of his mother’s pain and misery but all of his own ugliness.
“I’m, uh, I’m really sorry”, the boy then says, looking at him earnestly, “I didn’t mean to pry.”
Shouto shakes his head lightly, “No, it’s fine. I…” I’m used to it, he wants to say but can’t, the words won’t leave his mouth, leaving him to awkwardly trail off.
It’s quiet for a few seconds and he fears another awkward silence but the boy seems to relax a little, saying, “So. Uh, nice night, huh?” His chin is tipped upwards, toward the stars.
A bitter chuckle leaves his lips. “It’s really not”, he says before he can stop himself and is caught off guard when the boy quietly chuckles as well.
“Yeah. It’s really not”, he whispers. Shouto probably wasn’t meant to hear that, or the gut wrenching sob that follows. “It’s shit.” The boy holds one shaky hand over his face but Shouto can see the tears flowing out from underneath. A sympathetic pang shoots through his chest and he feels like he is intruding. But he can’t just, walk away. Wordlessly he sits himself on the bench, keeping a comfortable distance but still within reach. He really wishes he knew how to comfort others, feels helpless.
The boy sobs again, quieter and from the corner of his eye Shouto sees him furiously wiping at his eyes but the tears keep flowing. Then he seems to just give in and cries into his fists. As he sits there, silently, Shouto also feels jealous. Because no matter how much he has tried before, the tears just wouldn’t come. All he finds inside is hot, boiling anger. But now, listening to this stranger, is almost a little cathartic.
Minutes pass them by. Slowly, painfully. The boy grows quiet, only his shoulders are still shaking.
Then suddenly his head jerks upwards and he wipes at his face again. “God, I’m so sorry. Ugh”, he swallows and takes a hitching breath, “Really, this is so embarrassing…” Shouto feels that it’s okay to look at him again. The boy tries to force a smile, which only ends up looking like a grimace and continues, “Sorry you had to see that”
“Don’t apologize”, is all Shouto can think to say, “it’s fine.”
“Still”, the boy insists. He hesitated and hides behind his hands as he speaks, “It’s just, these past few days I was, um, really sad but this is-“ he wipes at his runny nose, laughs self-consciously again, “this the first time I’ve been able to, I dunno, let it out.” Shouto watches him press his hands against his eyes.
“I see.”
He wants to help, somehow. Even if just a little. But he doesn’t know what to do. Does he offer to listen to the boy’s problems? Wouldn’t that be too personal? Does he offer advice? Well, he sure as hell doesn’t have any. What is the adequate thing to do in a situation like this… Shouto feels so much out of his depth right now.
“I’m quirkless” the boy says in a rush. “I, uh, I don’t have a quirk. Um-” His breath stutters out of quivering lips and another tear is hastily wiped away.
Shouto looks to the ground, doesn’t know what to say to that. Doesn’t know what that feels like, will never be able to imagine it, but knows that anyone without one would be at a disadvantage in a society like theirs. “I’m sorry”, he offers hesitantly. The boy flinches as if punched and pulls his knees up to hug himself. The gesture tugs at Shouto’s chest so violently it almost feels like physical pain.
“It’s okay”, the boy whispers, “I’ve known it for years. I just, haven’t accepted it until now, I guess?” His mouth draws into a bitter smile and he buries his face in his knees but Shouto can still hear the muffled, “I just haven’t accepted reality for what it is.” Shouto hears him take another shaky breath before he looks up again, staring straight ahead. “I always wanted to be a hero. Heroes are the coolest, you know?” It’s Shouto who flinches this time, but it goes unnoticed. A bitter taste gathers in his mouth, sharp words at the tip of his tongue, but he keeps quiet. Wants to listen. “It’s been my dream since, like forever. But recently a person I looked up to, um. He- he told me-” Tears reflect the moonlight off of pale skin, “I can’t ever be a hero. Never.”
Shouto looks to the side awkwardly. This is too personal, way too personal, to be telling a complete stranger in the middle of a strange park at night. Suddenly he wants it to stop. Go away, he thinks but tightens his jaw to trap the words in his mouth. This is none of my business. I can’t help you. I’m sorry, just…
The boy just vacantly keeps staring ahead and words flood out of his mouth as if a gate had been opened. “I wanted to go to UA. I’ve been studying for the entrance exam for months. Heroics Department, of course. Just like-“ A second of silence where he composes himself again. “Just like my favorite hero. But now… I just, I don’t know what to do…” his voice grows quieter, toward the end Shouto has to strain his ears to hear. Just mentioning UA pinches at his insides uncomfortably.
Before he can stop himself he blurts, “I’m going there. After the summer.”
The boy’s head whips toward him so fast Shouto has to actively keep the surprise from showing on his face. “UA? Man, you must be pretty strong, huh. I’m so jealous”, he says, not even a hint of resentment in his voice despite his words. “The entrance exam’s supposed to be super tough.”
“Yeah”, he agrees, even though his father had boasted to him that it's a piece of cake, no son of his would ever fail there. His stomach rolls a little when he thinks about the upcoming school year. “I, um, I have a bit of an advantage. I got official recommendations from my middle school, so...”
The boy grins a little and wipes the last tear from his cheek. “Man, you’re cool”, he says.
Those words seem to hang in the air, pressing down on both of them. Shouto replies coolly, “Not really” and thinks back to all the times his mother cried, his sister locked herself in her room, his brothers screamed and yelled and took hits. All the times he knelt at that man’s feet, crying, vomiting, despairing. I’m pathetic, he thinks. He shakes his head to make the thought go away. “You could try another department”, he suggests. Surely there are some quirkless people at UA, even if not in the Heroics Department.
“Yeah” the boy whispers, sounding like he agrees out of habit, like he has heard that a hundred times already. “Or join the police force or something…”
Shouto tilts his head. Those do sound like the most logical choices. Graduating from any Department from UA would guarantee a promising future. And when it comes to similarities in the work itself, being a policeman is as close as one can get to doing hero work.
“Aaah”, the boy breathes out loudly, sounding a little lighter. “I really should get going.”
Shouto startles at the statement and all awareness of where he actually is and what awaits him when he gets back home come flooding back into his head. His legs freeze (figuratively), refusing to move even as the boy next to him gets up.
He turns around and gives him a mildly confused look. “Are you okay?”
Quickly Shouto schools his expression and forces his legs to move. His hands are shaking again and not from the cold. Going back there. To that house. That man. Cold fear gathers in his gut, lies there like a boulder. He briefly closes his eyes and forces himself to accept it. Accept it as something that will happen, as something he will get through, as something he himself has chosen when he opened that window. “I’m fine”, he says and his voice sounds firm. The boy looks like he doesn’t believe him.
He stretches his hand forward, dressed in black gloves. “I’m Midoriya, by the way. Midoriya Izuku”
Shouto doesn’t really want to but accepts the handshake. “Todoroki Shouto”
“Thank you for listening to all that stuff. You probably didn’t want to hear that but you still stayed and that was really selfish so…” his thanks turn into mumbling before he stops himself and looks at Shouto properly. “It was nice to meet you. Thanks again. I hope your night gets better too.”
Shouto feels a little bit like he revealed too much of himself, like he wants to hide. Dutifully he says, “Thanks”
“Good night, Todoroki-kun” Midoriya wishes him and though his face is still red and plotchy, the smile he wears now seems genuine and… good.
“Good night”, Shouto says.
It’s weird that only now it hits him just how strange that encounter was. Meeting in the middle of the night, talking about personal stuff and only now learning each other’s name even though they probably won’t meet again. Ah, but surely stranger things happen every day in a world like this.
He finds himself being able to smile back. Then he turns, refusing to drag his feet.
“Oh yeah, um, good luck at the entrance exam!” Midoriya calls after him, “Um, well, there’ll be a guy there. Uh, blond hair and an explosion quirk. He’s really strong, so, um, maybe try to avoid him?”
Shouto tries not to take this as an insult because he knows it wasn’t meant as such. “I’ll try”, he says.
“Okay.”
And with that they walk their separate ways. Shouto pulls the hood down as far as it’ll go and tries to remember which way he came. Though it had been Midoriya who had thanked him, Shouto feels like he gained something as well. He walks away with the feeling that he owes him gratitude as well.