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During the nights after those hard training days, where his dad might yell too loud or hit too hard, Shouto would peek his head out from the window and look up at the stars. He’d try to name off any constellation he could find from the peaks of his memory where Fuyumi and their mother swiped his tears away and told him about the stars and their meanings and the moon.
The moon.
Young Shouto loved the moon.
Its nocturnal glow, so far yet so close from casting onto young Shouto’s tear-dried face.
“My favorite thing about the moon, Shouto,” He can remember his mother whispering to him in the dark of night, when Shouto was supposed to be asleep, “Is that the moon can’t hurt you.”
Shouto had found an odd comfort in those words.
There were so many things in the young hero’s life that could hurt him.
Pressure. Fists. Flames. Fire. Hot. Too hot.
The moon never hurt him.
––
Years later, 16 years old, hero-in-training and emotionally stunted as ever, Shouto found himself at the base of some mossy tree with burned, calloused hands.
I went too hard on myself again.
He observed, taking deep breaths to slow his erratic heartbeat. The sight of burns alone were making him wince, not to add the pain of overexertion and the heat on top of that.
[Ah, the wonders of high expectations being his own downfall.]
“There you are, Todoroki!” He blinked a few times in determination to adjust himself to reality. He looked up from his medium-rare hands to see– ah, Iida.
Iida Tenya. President of his class, successor of the Ingenium family name, broad and confident shoulders, big hands, eyebrows pinched together to form a constant fixated gaze in his intense gunsteel eyes…
... Shouto digressed.
In real time, Iida shaped his arm for the side of his hand to meet with his forehead in a salute. It might have been less funny if he didn’t look so serious and concentrated doing it, but it was Iida– of course it had to be serious.
“Aizawa-sensei is getting everyone rounded up. Likely for more training sessions. He asked me to find you.” Iida spoke firmly, eyes fixing onto Shouto. His gaze shifted to the burns on Shouto’s hands. “Todoroki! Are you okay?”
They didn’t know each other very well, no. A part of that falls to Shouto’s inability to create conversation that doesn’t start off with him spilling out an entire wikipedia entry about his life or with him insulting the person he is attempting to maintain a conversation with.
“... Ah, yes. I overdid it with the fire side this time around. I’ll be okay, though.”
If Shouto was to be honest, these differences don’t mean that he hasn’t taken an interest in Iida.
His feelings were complicated towards his classmate– well, in all honesty, they weren’t that complicated at all, but Shouto has been described as a fellow to overcomplicate things. Perhaps it was the unfamiliarity of the topic of intimacy.
Iida was so distant from Shouto, yet reliant. He would be there to help any student in their class if it means that they need to be helped. His generosity, selflessness– of a hero, it’s an exceptional quality, but Iida’s power falls to how he can still carry himself even when he has to carry others. He’s competent. Capable.
Iida would never hurt him.
One might think that because of Iida's quirk and how he talks that he would be fast-paced. Constantly moving– bouncing from one person to the other in order to help everyone. But then there are those moments, to Shouto– like now, as Iida’s lips shape to a slight frown as he moves to look at Shouto’s hands and concentrates on wrapping the other’s hands up with emergency tape, kneeling to be on the same level as Shouto– where it feels like it’s just them in the open world. Every word, every touch, every glance– every movement has meaning with Iida. Time turns to nothing.
Iida’s hand was so warm, yet he felt chilled as they shared touches. A heat to his core and a thawing ice around his magma heart. Shouto looked up from his now wrapped hands up to Iida, who was moving further and further away again– and it was stupid but he felt like he was on fire as he realized that it was over.
“I’ll take you to Recovery Girl and she can get your hands looked at properly.” He said, standing to his full potential. Away from Shouto.
It only took over a decade to realize the bittersweet ending to his mother’s whispered words.
The moon can’t hurt him because it’s always so damn far away.
The moon was a cool, gentle, loving and expectant touch against Shouto’s burning skin that he never got to feel.
But what if he did get to reach the moon? Shouto thinks to himself, at this point, he’d be willing to take the chance to get hurt by the moon if it meant that he could be close to the moon.
“Todoroki? Would you like some help getting up?” Iida’s voice seeped through every pore of Shouto’s body. He shook his head slowly.
Maybe, Shouto thought to himself as he picked himself up off of the forest floor, the moon will always be too far for me to get to.
And perhaps that’s the part that hurts the worst of all about the moon.