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For a so-called prodigy, Bakugou Katsuki isn't very smart.
Midoriya seems to think he is- he sings Bakugou's praises despite the bullying, says he'll be a great hero one day, which Shouto doesn't understand at all - but he can't be, because if he was, he wouldn't try to start something with Shouto now.
Not only are there teachers nearby- though that's never stopped him before-, but Touya, leaning on the front gate of the school, is watching the whole exchange with narrowed eyes.
Granted, he doesn't look much like his hero persona. His mask is off and he's wearing casual clothes. His roots have grown out so much that there's more red than black now. But some of the kids are noticing, and if Bakugou was paying any attention, he would have too.
"You think you're so cool, don't you IcyHot?" Bakugou hisses, grabbing Shouto by the collar.
It takes him a moment to remember what this is about. Their school has a yearly quirk aptitude test, and Bakugou takes second place very sorely.
"Not particularly," Shouto answers flatly.
Midoriya, at his side, has noticed Touya, and is looking between him and the confrontation with wide eyes.
Bakugou shakes him a bit, almost unable to speak through his rage. It's not too bad- Shouto has had so much worse than anything this scrawny twelve-year-old can dish out, despite what he thinks- but that's all it takes for Touya to intervene.
He is at their side before Shouto realizes. He rests one hand on Shouto's shoulder, and the other on Bakugou's.
"Is there a problem here?" He asks, firm but polite. Bakugou stiffens as he recognizes the voice, and Shouto smirks before he can help it.
"He had it coming," Bakugou says, because that's what he says every time he gets caught.
Touya is frowning. Shouto has never seen his brother look so annoyed with anyone, except maybe their father.
"Why don't you let go of my brother, kid, and maybe you can get out of this without being written up."
Bakugou jerks out from under Touya's hand with a scowl. He shoulder checks Midoriya as he storms off, and though he keeps his balance, the schoolyard erupts in laughter. Midoriya flushes red.
Touya takes each of them by the shoulder and leads them out the gate without a word. Only when they're out on the sidewalk, out of earshot for anyone inside, does he turn to look at them.
"You two alright?" he asks, and Shouto recognizes the tone. He's angry, but trying his hardest not to show it.
"Fine," they say together. Shouto hopes desperately that Touya will leave this one alone.
Touya looks them both up and down, then seems to give in.
He takes the lead as they walk back to the apartment. For a few months after he was arrested, Shouto barely saw his brother, but now Touya walks Shouto home from school at least once a week and stays for dinner as often as he can. Sometimes Shimura and Takami come too, but they're usually busy.
Shouto gives his brother a long look. It's more out of habit than concern these days, but he feels better when he knows he's checked. Touya's hair is washed. His clothes are clean, if rumpled. His eyes are sharp, but without the panicked mania that Shouto has seen a few times. A good day then.
"Staying for dinner tonight, Midoriya?" Touya asks. The tension dispels, and Shouto lets out the breath he's been holding.
Midoriya nods. "Mom's working late again."
Touya stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking sideways at Midoriya when he says, "I think Tenko is going to be there tonight."
Midoriya squeaks, flushing. He's trying to hide his excitement, Shouto thinks, but he's flicking his fingers like he always does when he doesn't feel comfortable flapping his hands.
After the first time they met, Shimura had quickly flown up the ranks in Midoriya's favorite heroes, second only to All Might. When Shouto first met him, Midoriya had talked endlessly about becoming a hero like All Might. Someone who can reassure and save people with a smile. These days, though, they spend more time watching news clips and interviews of Pro Hero Entropy than anything else.
They enter the train station together, Touya putting a hand on each boy's shoulder to keep them together. It's especially crowded today, and Shouto brushes so many shoulders and is jostled by so many bodies that by the time they make it to the train he's incredibly overstimulated and beyond ready to be home.
Midoriya looks the same, and Touya snags them two end seats, positioning himself between them and the other passengers like a shield as he holds the overhead bar.
It never used to be like this. Living in his father’s house, he didn’t even know what overstimulation was. Spending his first twelve years in a quiet house, never being with more than five people at a time, sensory overload had never been a problem.
When it first started, his mother and his therapist collectively decided that it was anxiety. The culture shock of suddenly moving into the big city had thrown his mind off balance, Dr. Matsuoka said. He needed time to readjust and get used to existing around other people.
Now, though, Shouto isn’t sure about that one. A few weeks ago, Midoriya introduced him to the term autism. He doesn’t know much about it yet, too nervous for his mom or one of his siblings to catch him looking into it on their shared computer and ask questions. He doesn't want to make them worry anymore.
They get off at their stop and walk the last few blocks to the apartment in silence. His mom is the only one there when they get home, and Shouto leaves Touya to her while he and Midoriya go to his room. Natsuo's train has a few more stops than theirs, so Shouto claims his bed until he gets home.
Midoriya sits on Shouto's bed, and they do their homework together in silence, letting the quiet take the edges off of the buzzing in their brains.
Shimura gets there while Shouto isn't paying attention, and when they get to the table they find him talking softly with Touya and his mother. He has bandages wrapped around one arm- if he asked, Midoriya could probably tell him exactly where it came from- but overall he looks pretty good.
He looks up at them when they walk in, offering them both a nod before he turns back to his conversation. He doesn’t get all of it, but Shouto gathers that he’s talking about hero work.
He and Midoriya take their seats beside each other at the table, with Natsuo on Shouto’s other side and Fuyumi on Midoriya’s, and they’re all quiet for a few minutes as they get their food.
“So Midoriya, Shouto,” Touya says, breaking the silence. “I’ve been meaning to ask you both…”
Shouto’s heart skips a beat. Touya wouldn’t mention Bakugou now. Not in front of Fuyumi. Not in front of his mother. He looks from his brother to Shimura with wide eyes. They wouldn’t.
“There’s a hero gala coming up. We each get a plus one. Do you want to come?”
He’s so relieved by the new topic of conversation that he nods immediately, barely considering what he’s getting himself into. Midoriya grips his arm under the table- he’s apologized for it so many times that Shouto’s lost count, but he doesn’t mind it too much. He nods too, muttering something under his breath too quiet for Shouto to understand.
Shimura and Touya smile at them both for a moment. His mother makes a soft worried sound in the back of her throat but doesn’t say no outright. Fuyumi seems pretty happy- he assumes she’s Touya’s plus one- and Natsuo seems disinterested.
The rest of the dinner goes well, and it’s only when they’ve finished, and Natsuo and Fuyumi are helping their mother clean up, that Shimura and Touya corner them. They should have expected it, really.
“So,” Shimura says, and Shouto knows right away that he’s caught. Midoriya doesn’t even try to make eye contact, practically covering his face. “I hear this kid’s been giving you both trouble again.”
Midoriya instinctively tucks his arm behind his back- Shouto curses his incredible lack of subtlety.
Shouto scowls. “I can handle him.”
“Shouto,” Touya starts.
“Touya,” Shouto answers. “I can handle him. He’s a child .”
“So are you,” Shimura mutters.
“Bakugou isn’t too bad,” Midoriya tries. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“We’re already worried. So why don't you tell us what's going on, and we'll see if there's anything we can do."
Shouto presses his lips together tightly. Midoriya, as expected, does not.
“T-Todoroki got the highest grade in the quirk aptitude test. Kacchan has never lost before. He came up to us after school to yell at Todoroki for it.”
Touya scowls. “Of course Shouto won. He’s been training with a pro since he was four. Has this Bakugou kid ever actually learned to use his quirk?”
Midoriya rubs the back of his neck. “I- I mean. He uses it a lot… just…”
“On you?” Shimura guesses.
“Not just me!” He protests, his words coming in a rush. “There were other people too!”
“Midoriya,” Shouto cuts in. “You’re not helping the situation.”
Shimura rests a hand on each of their shoulders, pointedly disregarding the high pitched noise that Midoriya makes. “He shouldn’t be using his quirk on anyone. If you need help, we’ll be there. All you have to do is ask.”
“Boys!” Rei calls from the kitchen. Shouto pulls away from Shimura before she can see them. “Dessert is ready!”
Shouto takes Midoriyas hand and pulls him to the table. Touya and Shimura do this every time something like this happens- when Midoriya leaves school with a burn or Shouto’s pristine uniform is rumpled around the collar- and every time Shouto gives them the same answer.
He can handle this. He’s had worse. It will pass, and he’ll survive until then.
No one else needs to get hurt because of him. Especially not Touya, who’s suffered more than enough in his place.
He’ll deal with this if it kills him.
The apartment is silent as Shouto blinks up at the ceiling. Natsuo snores softly on the other side of the room, his limbs splayed out like a starfish.
Shouto’s had nightmares all his life, but these are new. He never remembers anything more than flashes of them, but they’re enough to jolt him awake in a cold sweat, a scream on his lips.
His blankets are half on the floor, his All Might plush- which he absolutely doesn’t cuddle with, shut up Natsu- lost somewhere within the tangle of fabric. He catches his breath slowly, before kicking the blankets the rest of the way off with a huff. There’s no way he’s getting back to sleep. At least not for a while.
Shouto silently picks up his phone, wincing at the sudden light. It’s around two. Midoriya is definitely asleep- and even if he wasn’t, this isn’t something Shouto wants to bother him with.
He tucks the phone into the pocket of his pajama bottoms before getting up, creeping out of the room on silent feet.
With a deep sigh, Shouto collapses onto the couch, pulling his weary limbs up onto the cushion until he is folded into the tiniest possible space that he can fill. He rests his chin on his knees and breathes. It’s going to be a long night.
Fuyumi and their mother have shopping to do after school on Friday, so Shouto and Midoriya walk to a park near Midoriya’s house. It’s hot- summer’s just around the corner- but there are kids everywhere. The two settle in the grass and Shouto lies on his back and listens while Midoriya rattles on about an up-and-coming hero that he saw on the news that morning.
“-and the villain was this big guy with a mutation quirk, right?” Midoriya is saying. “He looked a little bit like Ryukyu when she’s in her dragon form, but his scales were blue -”
The park has gone quieter, and Shouto feels an icy shiver go down his back. Without interrupting Midoriya, he raises himself up onto his elbows.
Some of the parents are looking at them, whispering among themselves. He makes eye contact with one woman, a mother, holding a squirming baby while an older boy tugs at her skirt. Despite the obvious distractions, she doesn’t look away until she realizes he’s seen her.
Midoriya’s voice sputters out as he notices their audience. “Ah-”
“Can we go back to your house?” Shouto whispers, and Midoriya nods.
No sooner has Shouto gotten to his feet, however, than a large man stands over him. The sun shines behind him so that Shouto can’t see his face, but he’s got a wide build, muscles showing under his sleeves.
He looks just like-
“You’re Endeavor’s brat, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Shouto manages.
The man launches into a tirade before Shouto has even gotten the word out. Midoriya clutches his wrist, panicked, but Shouto can’t move.
The man goes on and on, calling him and his mother and his siblings attention-seeking and selfish. He calls his mother overdramatic and weak, calls Touya a brat, calls the whole family a group of liars.
Through all of it, Shouto is numb. He stands still, feeling nothing but Midoriya’s hand on his wrist.
“And to top it all off, your coward of a brother had to go and quit the second he got what he wanted! Couldn’t even pretend to care about being a hero after he got his glory?”
“That’s not-” Shouto starts.
“Oh yeah?” the guy says, talking right over him. He takes a step forward- he’s just tall enough, just loud enough, just far enough into Shouto’s personal space to scare him- and Shouto reacts.
Gripping Midoriya’s hand tightly, Shouto runs.
They get to Midoriya’s apartment out of breath and overheated. Shouto turns to look behind them as Midoriya fumbles with the keys, but they’re alone. No one followed them.
Still, his heart doesn’t stop racing until they’re inside, the door locked behind them.
Midoriya kicks off his shoes, leaning against the door and clutching at a stitch in his side as he tries to get his breath back. Shouto has a bit more stamina- years of training weren’t wasted on him- but he’s just as out of breath, and he’s gasping when he slides down the wall of sit on the floor.
“Are you- okay?” Midoriya manages.
He shakes his head. “I’ll be alright in a minute.”
Midoriya stumbles to the kitchen, getting them each a glass of water. Shouto finally manages to get his shoes off while he does, and when he comes back they sit on the couch, still struggling to catch their breath.
“What was that guy’s problem?” Midoriya murmurs, meeting Shouto’s gaze with wide eyes. “We weren’t doing anything.”
“He probably admired my- Endeavor. He doesn’t believe that he was actually-”
His mouth isn’t forming words the way he wants it to, and Shouto stops, taking a sip of water instead.
They’re silent for a while, long after Shouto’s heart rate goes back to normal and the flush fades from Midoriya’s face. When Shouto finally gets up, taking their cups back to the kitchen, Midoriya follows.
“What do we do now?” he asks.
Shouto shrugs. “I- I don’t want to go outside again. When does your mom get home?”
“Five, I think.”
“Could I-” Shouto starts, and he pushes down the embarrassment. “Could I stay the night?”
Midoriya Inko looks surprised to see him, but not too upset. His own mother is equally surprised at the request, but happy to let him stay over. She sends Natsuo over with some of his things, and they’re all set.
None of those things prepared him for the strangeness of it all, though.
He sits next to Midoriya on the couch, both in pajamas and a bowl of popcorn between them, as they watch an old Silver Age documentary. Technically, it covers most of the age and the big events of the time, but Shimura Nana is the main focus, which tells him immediately why Midoriya picked it.
Midoriya’s mother went to bed about an hour ago, so it’s just them now. Every now and then, Midoriya will pause the movie to say or explain something- since Shouto doesn’t know much about the Silver Age. It feels… different.
He’s had movie nights with his siblings before, sometimes at the apartment and sometimes at Touya’s place, but they were always rowdy, with popcorn getting spilled on the floor, Natsuo and Touya messing around with each other, and Fuyumi laughing at them both.
This one is quiet- even when he’s clearly excited, Midoriya manages his volume better than Shouto has ever seen Natsuo do, and they don’t move, except for the small bounce of Midoriya’s knee. It’s relaxing. Shouto tries desperately not to fall asleep- the movie is interesting, but he’s exhausted.
When the movie ends, Shouto moves sleepily to the guest futon, laid out on Midoriya’s floor.
“G’night,” Midoriya whispers from the bed.
Shouto is asleep before he can say it back.
Shouto goes to school on Monday jumpy and panicked. He didn’t tell his family what had happened, but they must know something is off, because Fuyumi goes with him to drop him off before her first class.
She’s her usual self, quiet and motherly and awkward. That in itself is reassuring enough. They don’t talk much, but she pauses to rest a hand on his shoulder outside of the school, looking him up and down like she used to when she was checking him for injuries.
“You’ll be alright, Shouto?”
“I always am,” he answers, and she frowns at him for a long moment before she leaves.
Shouto takes the long way to class, since Midoriya isn’t here yet and he doesn’t feel like running into Bakugou on his own.
The day starts normally- Midoriya runs in right before the bell, Bakugou is loud and obnoxious, but not any more than usual, and the teacher has no control over his class.
Shouto listens anyway, taking diligent notes and ignoring the rowdiness around him. Midoriya mutters away over his own notes, the only other person in the class focusing.
Bakugou catches them at lunch, and Shouto quickly learns that the one thing Bakugou hates more than second place is being caught in the act. They're lucky to have escaped him last week, with how angry he still is.
He goes for Shouto first, shaking him up a little and yelling at him until his ears ring. He sets off a few explosions against Shouto's arm- not that they bother him much. He's used to them.
"K-Kacchan-" Midoriya tries, and that's as far as he gets before Bakugou turns on him.
"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to, Deku ?" Bakugou snarls. He lets go of Shouto’s arm, shoving him away so hard that he stumbles, and grabs Midoriya by the shoulders.
He’s not sure what does it.
It could be the shove, or the yelling, or the noise of the explosions, or the smell from the burns on his arm, or some combination of them all, but all he knows is that one moment he is watching Bakugou set off explosions against Midoriya’s arms and the next moment he’s tackled Bakugou to the ground, throwing punches.
These are nothing like the structured drills his father taught him. There is no form here, only desperation. His punches are spastic, missing more often than he hits.
No one else will be burned because of him.
Bakugou’s friends have noticed now. They’re coming over, shouting at him- at both of them, cheering Bakugou on even as he gets his ass absolutely handed to him.
Midoriya is calling him. Why is Midoriya calling him?
He’s in the training room. Touya is burning and his mother is too slow. He is holding his father off, and Touya is burning, burning, burning -
“Todoroki!” Midoriya cries and suddenly he is back, sagging against Midoriya as he pulls him off of Bakugou.
He’s hurt. He doesn’t know how bad, far too out of it still to figure out how many of these aches and pains are from memories and how many are real. Bakugou looks worse off than he is. One of his arms is frozen to the floor, the other one is pressed against his face, clutching at his jaw. He’s looking up at him with wide eyes.
There is a teacher there. She’s saying something, but it sounds like buzzing.
“We have to go to the office now, Todoroki,” Midoriya says. His voice is shaking. Why is his voice shaking?
“Todoroki,” the teacher says, and her voice is hard. “Get up. Now.”
Time passes too fast. Before he knows what’s going on, he’s sitting in a hard plastic chair.
“I have to call your mother about this, Todoroki,” the principal says.
“She’s at work,” Shouto hears himself say. A lie. “You can call my brother.”
She gives in without too much hassle. Whether it’s because she believes him or out of pity, he isn’t sure, but he’ll take the victory.
Midoriya is silent beside him, the bouncing of his knees the only thing giving away his nervousness. Bakugou is just as quiet, for once. He presses an ice pack to his face and scowls at his shoes.
Bakugou Mitsuki arrives at some point, leveling Bakugou with a glare so angry that Shouto has to look away. Midoriya’s mother gets there a few minutes after she does. Touya gets there last, looking more put together than Shouto has seen him in a while.
Shouto zones out as the principal rehashes what happened, only half-hearing it.
“Todoroki?” someone asks, and he flinches. “Did you really use your quirk on Bakugou?”
He nods.
The principal frowns at him, turning to write something down. “A three-day suspension, I think-”
“Hang on,” Touya says, raising his hands in front of him. He looks angry, Shouto thinks. “Aren’t you going to ask him why he did it?”
“Mr. Todoroki,” the principal says, “Whether or not-”
“No,” Touya says. He leaves no room for argument. “I know my brother. He isn’t violent. He would never voluntarily put himself in a violent situation. Bakugou started this. I would put money on it.”
“Bakugou has no history-”
“That’s a lie,” Shouto cuts in. It’s the first time he’s spoken. He shares a small glance with Midoriya, trying to apologize with his eyes. “He’s been bullying Midoriya much longer than I’ve been here.”
They’re all silent for a moment.
“Todoroki...,” Midoriya Inko whispers.
“Look at his wrist,” Touya adds. “There’s a scar there. Couldn’t have come from anyone else.”
“What do you know about it?” Bakugou’s mother demands.
“More than you,” Touya snaps back. “I bandaged it myself.”
“Be that as it may-” the principal tries.
“It was self-defense,” Touya says. “Look at the burns on their uniforms. Look at Midoriya’s scars. Look at all of them, and try to tell me they deserve to be punished.”
Needless to say, the principal gives up. It takes arguing, but Touya is willing to argue. By the time they leave, the school day is almost over anyway. Midoriya Inko wrings Touya’s hands with tears in her eyes, and then the Midoriyas are gone, hurrying to drop Izuku off at home in time for Inko to get back to work.
Shouto lets himself be led to the train station. He sits at Touya’s side and holds his arm like a little kid, and hardly notices when they end up at Touya’s apartment instead of his own.
They’re quiet- he and Touya rarely know what to say to each other.
Shimura and Takami are sitting on the couch when they get there, and both look up at Shouto with wide eyes when he pauses in the doorway. Does he really look that bad?
Touya guides him to the recliner beside the couch, then leaves for a moment to get the first aid kit.
“You alright, kiddo?” Takami’s voice is light, the same way Touya’s used to be when he helped clean Shouto’s wounds. It’s unsettling.
He shrugs, not sure he’s capable of speech now.
“Could you two clear out for a minute?” Touya asks, coming back in with the first aid kit under his arm. “I need to talk to him.”
They all three exchange a look- there and gone before Shouto can figure out what it means- and then they go into the bedroom together, closing the door behind them.
Touya sits down beside him, opening the first aid kit. He stops for a long moment.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
If he speaks now, he’s going to break down.
“You don’t have to,” Touya adds. “But I think it would help.”
Shouto bites his lip. Touya turns back to the first aid kit, pulling out disinfectant and burn cream.
“He was hurting Midoriya,” Shouto says. The words just come spilling out. “He was mad at me, and Midoriya tried to help, and he pushed me away and started hurting Midoriya. A-And even then, I wasn’t going to fight him.” Tears roll down his face, scalding hot on one side and freezing on the other. “But he burned him. And I- I panicked, and then-”
Touya wraps him in his arms. He can hardly breathe from the effort of holding back this breakdown, and when he finally breaks down into sobs his brother is there, whispering soft reassurances and running a gentle hand through his hair.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” Shouto sobs. “I didn’t-”
Touya shushes him. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You protected your friend. You did just fine.”
Shouto stays in Touya’s arms until he cries himself out. Touya’s hand cards through red hair and Shouto takes slow breaths, and they are okay.
The night of the gala, Shouto finds himself in a stiff rented suit, his tie tied tightly by his mother and his hair slicked back. Midoriya’s messy green curls are neater than Shouto has ever seen them, and his suit- while the pattern is a little... redder... than Shouto expected- looks nice on him.
Fuyumi is standing close to Touya, wearing a pale blue dress with a flowy, knee-length skirt and a white cardigan over it. She seems a little uncomfortable, unused to wearing anything that draws attention, but between the dress and the absolutely stunning makeup that their mother did for her, she looks like she would fit in perfectly at any gala. Touya, Takami, and Shimura are going basic, all wearing matching black suits. They all stand out plenty on their own as it is.
They’re standing in a hotel lobby, gathering themselves before they go into the gala hall. Midoriya is bouncing on his heels, talking a mile a minute about all the heroes that will be here, and Fuyumi is fixing her hair over and over again.
Touya looks the most nervous, though only his eyes give him away. Shouto remembers suddenly that, as much as he hates the attention they’ve received recently, Touya must hate it more.
When they finally go in, Shouto feels all the eyes in the room fly to them immediately. The volume of conversations dips for a moment, before coming back with a vengeance.
They’re quite a group. Shouto’s two-toned hair has been on magazine covers and in newspapers since his father was arrested. Fuyumi, while she hasn’t received quite the attention that Shouto has, is nearly as recognizable. Touya, Takami, and Shimura, besides being top heroes, are also caught up in one of the greatest scandals in hero society’s history.
He can hardly blame them for staring.
Takami takes the lead. All of this is his specialty, and by the time Touya tells them they can go look around, the adults have been pulled into a conversation with Miruko and a few other younger heroes.
Midoriya is too shy and Shouto is much too antisocial to approach any of the heroes milling around, so they find themselves at a dessert table, Shouto eating a piece of cake while Midoriya gives him bios of every hero they see. The top ten are all here, minus All Might, and most of the top fifty, as well as a few in the lower ranks.
Shouto is so caught up in Midoriya’s description of Fatgum, who is talking with a boy, probably an intern, at a buffet table across the room, that Shouto doesn’t notice the boy barreling toward them until they nearly collide. Shouto keeps his cake in hand, though just barely, and he and Midoriya both watch as he hurries out of the room.
He turns to Midoriya, about to ask what they should do, but his friend is already following. Regretfully, Shouto leaves his cake behind and follows Midoriya.
They manage to slip out into the hallway without Touya or Fuyumi seeing them. It’s remarkably silent, especially compared to the banquet hall, and it’s easy to hear the boy’s ragged breaths.
He’s sitting in a plush chair in the corner of the empty lobby, his knees pulled up to his chin as he tries to catch his breath. Dark hair falls over his eyes, still neat, though the rest of him seems in disarray.
“Are you okay?” Midoriya asks, and the boy looks up at them with oil slick eyes, blown wide with panic.
“Yes!” he says, too loud and much too quick. “I’m perfectly fine!”
“You don’t look fine,” Midoriya presses gently.
The boy frowns, then looks down, seeming too upset to argue with them.
“I’ll be fine in a moment,” he amends, and drops his knees to make small chopping motions with his hands. “It’s just too loud in there right now.”
He’s stimming, Shouto realizes, and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense. Midoriya sits down in another chair beside the boy, and Shouto sits beside him.
“Would you like to talk?” Midoriya asks, “Or would you prefer the quiet?”
The boy looks at them both for a minute, like he’s trying to judge their intentions, before he says softly, “Quiet, if you don’t mind. I’ll be okay soon, but for now…”
Shouto and Midoriya both nod, and the three sit together in the quiet. Shouto bounces his knees and Midoriya flaps his hands, both nearly as overwhelmed as their companion, and the boy lets his gestures get bigger, seemingly comfortable enough with them to be less discrete.
Finally, he seems calm again. The boy stands rigidly, but he looks happy enough when he offers a hand and introduces himself to them as Iida Tenya, the younger brother of the pro Ingenium.
Midoriya squeaks when he hears this, but if Iida notices, he doesn’t say anything. Midoriya introduces himself shakily, and Iida gives him a vigorous handshake and then it’s Shouto’s turn, and dread settles in the pit of his stomach.
“Todoroki Shouto,” he says simply, holding out his hand warily for Iida to shake. He sees the spark of recognition in the boy’s eyes.
“Are you-” Don’t say Endeavor’s son, not Endeavor’s son- “Supernova’s brother?”
He nods, surprised that Touya is the first connection Iida thought of. “We’re here as his plus-ones.”
Iida blinks suddenly. “I need to go back. My brother will be looking for me.”
“We should too,” Midoriya says, and Shouto lets himself be led, grudgingly, back into the gala.
Touya and Fuyumi are on them all before they can blink, and Ingenium is only a moment behind.
“Shouto,” Touya starts. He sounds more worried than angry, but Shouto tenses anyway. “Where were you?”
Fuyumi has her hands on her hips like their mother, a single eyebrow raised. Ingenium looks more confused than anything else, so Iida probably isn’t in trouble.
“The lobby?” Shouto offers.
“You can’t just wander off to the lobby alone without telling anyone!” Fuyumi says, but the almost-strict words are ruined by the shake in her voice.
“I wasn’t alone. Midoriya and Iida were with me.”
Touya looks at him flatly, but he stops scolding them, so Shouto’s satisfied with his efforts. Or at least, he’s satisfied until his brother ruffles his neatly styled hair, mixing red and white strands into a bird’s nest.
Fuyumi snorts despite herself, and the whole group seems to relax.
“They’re gonna start speeches soon,” Ingenium tells them. “Why don’t you boys go ahead and find us some seats.”
Iida leads them to a group of empty seats, close to the front, and Shouto and Midoriya follow behind, sitting beside him and listening to him talk about some of the other galas he’s been to.
Shouto zones out for most of the speeches. He tries to pay attention when Takami goes up, but even then he misses more than he gets. Only when an announcer calls out their next speaker, Pro Hero Supernova, does the world come back into startling focus.
Touya didn’t tell him about this. One glance at Fuyumi tells him that she didn’t know either. Takami and Shimura look grim, and he wonders which is worse? Is Touya retiring, or going back into the field?
“Hello,” Touya says simply. His trademark grin, self-deprecating and relatable, is immediately in place, and it weirds Shouto out, for all that he’s seen it on T.V. so many times. “I’m sure you all have questions. My agency will be holding a press conference sometime in the next few weeks, but I’m here tonight to let everyone know what’s happening.”
The room is silent, and every eye is on Touya. Shouto sees him catch Fuyumi’s gaze, grounding himself.
“First of all,” he says, “I want to clarify the reason for my hiatus from Hero work. Following the events of Endeavor’s arrest, I, along with my agency and several health professionals, decided that a temporary hiatus was necessary for the sake of my health, both mentally and physically. We chose not to release any statements before now in an effort to let the publicity cool off and to lessen the impact on the public.”
The heroes in the room are on the edge of their seats, waiting for the bomb that Touya is about to drop. There are only three people in this room that know what’s about to happen, and right now, Shouto would do anything to be one of them.
“After careful deliberation, alongside my doctors and my agency, I have made the decision to return to Hero work.” He pauses for a moment, letting that sink in. Whispers break out, and Shouto meets Fuyumi’s startled gaze. Midoriya and Iida are looking at him, but he forces his eyes back to his brother, just in time to meet Touya’s steady gaze.
Touya goes on, thanking everyone who spoke out on his behalf during his absence and the heroes present during the arrest, but Shouto tunes it out again, bouncing his knee with so much force that he seems to be shaking.
Touya seems to think he’s ready to go back out into the field, but Shouto has his doubts. He remembers the man in the park. Remembers pictures in newspapers of his brother cringing away from cameras, the way he still has to look to Fuyumi to get through his speech. Touya says he’s ready.
And Shouto will just have to believe him.