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The first fight is a long time coming. 

Even Todoroki, who’d previously prided himself in remaining uninvolved with his classmates and still didn’t fully keep up with their social circles or cliques, had been aware of the tension between Bakugo and Midoriya since the beginning of the year. 

Things were better now. Bakugo’s temper had been watered down, and Midoriya didn’t rise to every challenge thrown at him. But Todoroki hadn’t forgotten. And he refused to forgive. 

Ever since he’d made his first friend and learned to care, an anger had been brewing deep in his chest. 

And despite Todoroki’s best attempts to stay apathetic -even in the most enraging or painful circumstances- sometimes he snapped. 

1.

“Ah, Ka-chan,” Midoriya spoke up, nose stuck in a comically large map of the mountain’s hiking trails. His voice was warbly with hesitation. “I don’t think we’re going the right way…” 

“Shut up, nerd! Like you know any better!” 

“It’s just that it shows on the map-” 

“We’re going down, stupid Deku. We’re supposed to meet the human sleeping bag at the bottom of the mountain. This trail goes down. We must be going the right direction.” 

“Hey,” Kirishima interrupted, bumping his shoulder into Bakugo’s. “You don’t have to snap. We’re all following you, let’s just see where this trail goes,” he suggested. Bakugo quieted, but didn’t turn back. He kept pressing forward, even as Kirishma laced their fingers together. 

Todoroki sighed. Ever since Kirishima and Bakguo had started dating, Bakugo seemed to have developed an off switch. However, he usually started screaming at Midoriya before Kirishima could step in. 

It was hot outside. The air was muggy as they stomped through the trees, ferns brushing their ankles and mosquitos buzzing around their heads. The team of four had been dropped at the top of the mountain after a quick ride from Ryukyu. Now, they were meant to find their way back down before sunset for a cookout and a survival training session from Tiger and the rest of the Wild Wild Pussycats. 

Midoriya had been twitchy even on the bus ride to the campgrounds. Normally, Todoroki would have expected Midoriya to be excited about this type of specialized training. However, instead he seemed… on edge. 

Todoroki cleared his throat. “Midoriya,” he spoke up, hoping Kirishima and Bakugo were far enough ahead on the path that they wouldn’t overhear. “Are you all right?” 

Midoriya jumped, crinkling the map in his hands. He laughed sheepishly. “Oh, um… yeah, I guess… Well, this is kinda similar to last time, huh?” 

Todoroki thought back to their last training camp. “It is.” 

“I think Ka-chan’s nervous too, even if he won’t admit it,” Midoriya said, looking down at his feet, his shoulders hunched self-consciously. “He’s testier than usual, which is saying something. He yelled at me for like twenty minutes when we got off the bus because my shoe was untied.” 

Todoroki didn’t let his frustration show in his face. “I noticed that.” 

Midoriya seemed to war with himself for a moment before sighing, holding up the map again. “It’s just I really think we’re going the wrong way! We took a right here,” he said, pointing to an intersection on the map, “but the main campground is down here,” he pointed at a blob in the opposite direction of the way they were headed. “There’s a loop down here we can take to get back on track, but…” Midoriya threw a nervous look at the sky. 

Dark, heavy clouds were gathering overhead. 

“It is supposed to rain,” Todoroki said. He’d checked the weather before they left for the weekend. 

“It’s been raining a lot lately,” Midoriya said, biting his bottom lip. “And the ground is really muddy,” he paused, squatting down for a minute to feel the soil and take note of the mud caked high on his hiking boots. “This hill is so steep, I’m wondering if there’s a risk of-” 

“What the fuck?” Bakugo screamed, when he realized they had paused. He was now about fifty yards away. “Did you stop for a fucking tea party?! Hurry up, dumbass, it’s about to rain!”

“I know it’s about to rain!” Midoriya called back, standing up straight. “That’s why I’m worried we’re going the wrong way!” 

“We’re not going the wrong way!” 

“But-!”

“I will leave you for dead!” 

Midoriya just huffed, exasperated and anxious, and practically tripped over his feet to hurry down the pass. Todoroki walked much more slowly, fighting the rage building up in his chest. 

He’d had a lot of time to think about why Bakugo made him so angry. As many nights as Todoroki had spent lying awake thinking about his father, he’d spent almost as many lying awake and thinking about Bakugo. They’d hardly spoken. He was a fly buzzing around Todoroki’s head, noisy and annoying but an inconvenience more than anything else. 

But he was much more to Midoriya. 

To Midoriya, Bakugo was an abuser. So often, so often, Midoriya repeated the negative things Bakugo said about him as fact. He believed the hurtful things Bakguo told him. He flinched at Bakugo’s explosions. He watched. Sometimes Midoriya’s staring seemed to rile Bakugo up further, but Todoroki understood why he never looked away. 

Bakugo was a threat, and Midoriya was scared. Todoroki knew that feeling. In fact, Todoroki was painfully familiar. He’d lived alone with that fear for years. 

And then he met Midoriya. 

And things changed. 

But things for Midoriya still seemed to stay the same. 

The leaves started to rustle with raindrops. Midoriya looked at the sky anxiously, and the ground started to tilt upwards instead of down. “Bakugo-” Midoriya tried. 

“Save it.” Bakugo’s voice was a grumble. He was clearly just as aware of the situation as Midoriya was. 

“It’s just that the cliff face is steep, so there could be a-” 

“I don’t need to hear it, nerd!” 

“Let’s just walk ten more minutes this way,” Kirishima said. “If we don’t hit the main path, we’ll turn around.” It was an easy compromise. Bakugo scowled, but remained silent in agreement. 

“Can I see the map again?” Todoroki asked Midoriya. 

Midoriya nodded, thrusting the map in his direction. There was a sense of urgency about him, one that Todoroki trusted entirely. If Midoriya thought something would go wrong, then it was about to go wrong, and Todoroki needed to protect him. 

“Midoriya is right,” Todoroki said, after a quick observation of the map. The rain started to pick up. “We need to turn back. Now.” 

Bakugo looked tense, muscles coiled like he was about to leap into battle. “I told you, Half n’ Half, I know where the fuck I’m going.” 

Torodoki stopped moving forward, refusing to take another step with Bakugo as leader. “Clearly, you don’t.” 

Bakugo stopped in his tracks and turned to the side, glaring at Todoroki out of the corner of his eye. “You got a problem?” 

“I’ve had a problem,” Todoroki said, passing the map back to Midoriya. He lifted the brim of his baseball cap. “We don’t have time to coddle your fragile ego. This situation is above your skill level.” 

“I scored higher than you on the midterms!” Bakugo said, clearly thrown off guard by Todoroki’s sudden icy fury. 

“And I scored better on the Quirk Apprehension test,” Todoroki said. “But we don’t need test rankings to know that I’m clearly smarter and stronger than you.” 

Bakugo set off a series of warning blasts, hands crackling. 

Todoroki’s entire left side lit on fire. 

“I will kill you,” Bakugo warned, the rain starting to pour. 

“I’d like to see you try,” Todoroki said, and Bakugo lunged. 

Bakugo slammed into his torso, and Todoroki’s back hit the ground harshly. Bakugo seemingly didn’t care about his fire as the rain pelted down on them, making it hard to see. Todoroki managed to push him off, shoving Bakugo’s face down in the mud and forcing his head down like he was trying to drown him. Bakugo managed to muscle him off and retaliate with a swift kick to Todoroki’s ribs.

Explosions rattled in both of Bakugo’s hands. “You’ve been glaring at me all year, you fucking bastard. If you’ve got something to say, say it!” 

“You’re a child,” Todoroki spat. “You’re a whining, pathetic child who throws a temper tantrum anytime someone points out your glaringly obvious mistakes!” 

Todoroki sent a wave of ice towards Bakugo. With no chance of evading the blast, Bakugo used a particularly big explosion to blow it apart, ice shards splintering through the air and forcing Todoroki to slide down the muddy cliff face. 

Bakguo sprang at him from the trail, but Todoroki warded him off with a pillar of fire. It singed Bakugo’s side, and he landed in the mud harshly.

“Todoroki-kun!” 

“Bakugo!” 

Todoroki ignored Midoriya and Kirishima, still furious. “Everyone babies you!” Todoroki exclaimed. “If it wasn’t for your stupid hissy fit, we would be back at the campground by now! What kind of hero doesn’t listen to others? Midoriya’s been telling you this was the wrong way for the past half an hour! And look where we are?! In the middle of nowhere!” 

Bakugo picked himself up off the ground, covered in mud. He couldn’t argue, so instead he screamed in rage, once again springing at Todoroki. Todoroki tried to dodge, but his foot slipped on the wet ground. He could barely see it was raining so hard. 

They grappled in the wet earth. There were flashes of fire and explosions, but it felt better to feel something connect with Todoroki’s fist. He was so angry. 

They tumbled further and further down the mountain. 

Something rumbled in the distance, but Todoroki was more focused on Bakugo beneath him. He reared back to punch Bakugo square in his already bleeding nose, but before he could, there was a crackle of green lightning. 

Suddenly, Todoroki’s back slammed into a tree. 

There was a deafening sound as half the mountain seemed to come crashing down the cliff face, a torrential wave of mud rushing past where he’d just pinned Bakugo to the ground.

He gasped, the wind knocked out of him, and when he finally caught his breath, Midoriya was still kneeling in front of him, hands on either side of his face and electricity flickering over his skin. “You have to stop,” he said firmly, the tone of his voice much more urgent than before. “The ground is unstable. There could be another landslide.” 

Todoroki clenched his hands into fists, his knuckles aching and bleeding. “But he- but he-” 

“I know,” Midoriya said, and then fiercely hugged him, burying Todoroki’s face forcibly into his chest. “I know, but we have to keep going, okay? We have to get out of here.” 

Thunder boomed overhead and the ground rumbled. Across the river of rock and mud now between them, Kirishima hardened as a tree fell on him and Bakugo. The trunk splintered around them. “There’s no time for this!” Kirishima shouted, using his t-shirt to clean the mud from Bakugo’s face. “We need to get down the mountain!” 

Todoroki gulped, thudding his head against the tree. This was why he’d failed his provisional license exam. This was why Midoriya and Kirishima were so far ahead. He let his anger get the better of him.

“It’s more dangerous climbing down a mountain than it is to climb up,” Midoriya said over the rain. “With slippery conditions, we should either travel at a shallow angle to the hill or make sure to maintain a three point touch rule!” 

Bakugo stood up, clearly bruised, burned, and in pain, much like Todoroki. “Three point touch?” he asked. 

Midoriya nodded, determined. “Yes! If we have to go down a steep slope, we should make sure we have three points of contact to the mountain at all times!” 

“What’s the fastest route, Midoriya?” Kirishima asked. “You saw the map last.” 

Midoriya stalled looking around and trying to get his bearings. 

“Hurry up!” Bakugo demanded. 

“Just a minute, I’m thinking,” Midoriya argued. He looked around. “We’ve fallen considerably down the mountain. There should be a trail south east of here, but it will be rough terrain. Todoroki-kun! Please use your ice as a ledge in the event someone loses their footing. Bakugo and Kirishima, please use your quirks against any fallen or falling trees! I think I can get us to camp!” 

“Sir, yes sir!” Kirishima agreed with a salute, pulling Bakugo into a headlock and leading him in the direction Midoriya had pointed.

Midoriya turned and held a hand out to Todoroki to help him up. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

“I’m sorry,” Todoroki answered. 

Midoriya gave him a soft, understanding smile. “You don’t need to apologize to me. Are you hurt? Can you walk?” 

“I’m fine,” Todoroki said, moving to follow Kirishima and Bakugo once again. He didn’t want to get too far apart in the event one of them fell and needed to be caught. 

His answer wasn’t explicitly true. He was filthy. He was soaked. He was tired, and aching, and sure to receive punishment from Aizawa when they finally made it back to camp. But more than all that, his skin burned where Midoriya had touched him, and his heart beat uncomfortably inside of his chest. 

2.

“Three days suspension,” Aizawa decided, rain drops battering the roof of the bus. 

Bakugo tsked, turning to glare out the window. Todoroki appreciated the leniency of the punishment. Aizawa had clearly been relieved to see his students return at all, despite their injuries. 

“And no healing from Recovery Girl,” their teacher added. “If you’re going to beat each other senseless, you should live with the consequences.” 

At this, Todoroki bristled. It wasn’t senseless. 

Every time a fight broke out amongst his classmates, Bakugo was at the center of it. Even if their teacher wasn’t interested in the details of the argument, surely he could see a thread between all of 1A’s altercations. 

Aizawa seemed to sense Todoroki’s frustration. “Is there something you’d like to say, Todoroki?”

“No,” Todoroki ground out. 

Aizawa stared at him. “Very well. You’re dismissed. Get out of my sight.” 

Bakugo stood up immediately, pushing against Todoroki to get to the back of the bus where Kirishima was surely waiting. Todoroki stumbled into the aisle. “Hurry up,” Bakugo said testily.

Todoroki rose to his full height, turning around to face Bakugo. However, before he could snap, Kirishima’s voice called out above their classmate’s quiet chatter. “Bakugo, back here!” 

Bakugo’s piercing gaze left Todoroki’s face and softened when he saw Kirishima. Todoroki hadn’t budged an inch, but a hand wrapped around his wrist, and his attention was directed elsewhere. 

Midoriya had stretched across the seats to hold his hand. 

“You look tired,” he said gently. “Come sit.” 

All the anger inside of Todoroki fizzled out in an instant. Todoroki’s face was always impassive, but he felt some of the tension in his expression ease. He was tired. And Midoriya was always so inviting. 

He let Midoriya pull him to his seat. As he sat down, Bakugo bustled past him. Todoroki felt a flash of annoyance as Bakugo’s elbow hit his shoulder, but Midoriya kept him from turning back to start something. 

“You’re cold,” Midoriya said, holding onto Todoroki’s right hand. There were bits of frost clinging to his skin, half from overuse of his quirk after trying to get back to camp and half from his rain soaked clothes. He was too tired to control his temperature properly. 

“Ah.” He hadn’t noticed. 

“Todoroki-kun… You always worry so much about everyone else, but you never worry about yourself,” Midoriya admonished, rubbing his fingers to help warm them up. 

Todoroki’s mouth quirked up. He really was tired if he was smiling like this. “I’m sorry, are we talking about me? Or you?” 

Midoriya sputtered. 

Todoroki just closed his eyes, happy to let Midoriya continue to warm up his fingertips, then palm, then arm. When Midoriya glued their sides together, he didn’t move away. Midoriya was mumbling in indignation, and while usually Todoroki would try to catch more than just every other word, he was sleepy, and the gentle rise and fall of Midoriya’s voice was better than rain on a window pane or wind rustling through leaves. 

When Todoroki opened his eyes again, they were back at school. 

3. 

“Something is up with you two,” Uraraka muttered around the straw of her milk carton, eyes darting between Todoroki in front of her and Bakugo across the cafeteria. Bakugo and Todoroki were very determinedly not looking at each other, but there was an obvious tension between them. It was their first day back in class after their mutual suspension. 

The whole cafeteria seemed on edge. 

Asui tapped her chin. “I don’t think Bakugo has apologized to Todo-chan since the training camp,” she speculated. 

“It’s not just Bakugo who needs to apologize to Todoroki-kun,” Iida interrupted, stern as ever. “Despite Bakugo’s explosive nature, I am sure the fight was not unprovoked. Irregardless of the cause, neither Todoroki nor Bakugo should have been exchanging blows during a training exercise, especially under such treacherous conditions. After talking to Midoriya, it seemed that he attempted to warn both Bakugo and Todoroki of the potential for a landslide multiple times prior to the fight and was either interrupted or ignored. The breakdown of communication was entirely unprofessional and both parties should be deeply apologetic for causing their partners added danger and concern.” 

Uraraka whistled, leaning back from the table after Iida’s lecture. “Oof. Todoroki-kun. Are you all right?” 

Todoroki just chewed his fish. “Iida is right,” he said simply. 

“Still, he just reamed you front, back, and sideways,” Uraraka said. 

Asui ribbetted in agreement. 

Uraraka put her chin in her hand, fingers drumming against her cheek. “You know,” she said, prying. “No one knows why you two fought.” 

Asui took a slurp of noodles. “Midoriya is too nice to paint either of you two in a negative light, and Kirishima just seems confused.” 

“Hm,” Todoroki said. 

Uraraka groaned. “Come on, Todoroki-kun. There has to be a reason! No one just starts screaming each other out of nowhere! And you still have burn marks! What made you so mad?” 

Todoroki didn’t answer, but he did blink across the cafeteria where Midoriya had stalled with his lunch tray, talking to a student from 1C. 

Uraraka followed his gaze. 

“Oh-ho-ho,” she said evilly. Todoroki quickly blinked away. Unfortunately, Iida seemed to catch his glance at Midoriya as well. 

Iida adjusted his glasses, light glinting off the lenses to hide his expression. “Todoroki-kun… While I admire you for often coming to Midoriya’s defense, you know as well as I do… This isn’t a battle he wants us to fight for him.” He sounded as defeated as Todoroki felt. 

“I know,” Todoroki agreed, but he couldn’t leave it at that. 

Uraraka frowned. “You boys always leave us out of the fun conversations,” she complained. “Has Deku-kun talked to you both about Bakugo before?” 

Todoroki and Iida stayed silent, although Iida’s uncomfortable shifting was answer enough. 

“Boo,” Uraraka complained. “Don’t leave us out! Spill! What did Deku-kun say?” 

Todoroki and Iida were quiet for a moment, but Uraraka managed to crack Iida with a powerful glare. 

“We shouldn’t discuss what our friend told us in private,” Iida said, clearly at war with himself. It would be advantageous for Uraraka to know, especially given the fact that Bakugo seemed terrified of her. However, Midoriya had spoken to them both in confidence. Iida wilted. “However… It does seem that their… tremulous relationship has lasted for many years now. And Midoriya-kun was not always capable of defending himself.” 

Uraraka took another calm, cool, and collected sip from her milk carton. She set it down on the table gently, with her pinky as a cushion. “Should I kill him?” she asked plainly. 

“Midoriya asked that we don’t get involved,” Todoroki said. 

Uraraka leveled him with a telling gaze. “But you don’t forgive so easily.” 

Todoroki lowered his chopsticks, his grip tightening around them. “No,” he said, thinking of his father and the years of constant physical and mental abuse. “I don’t.” 

“Still,” Asui said slowly, always level-headed while here peers were often overemotional. “If Mido-chan asked us not to get involved, we should respect his wishes. We don’t know the full scope of their relationship. It seems like things are slowly mending over time. We shouldn’t get in the way.” 

Uraraka’s posture eased somewhat. “That’s true… It seems like they talk now. I saw them walking to the gym after class the other day.” 

“They’ve been sparring,” Iida agreed. “And no one has gotten injured.” 

“I think they’re doing better,” Asui confirmed. 

Todoroki stayed quiet. 

Eventually, Midoriya finally made his way over to their lunch table. “Todoroki!” he greeted as he approached. “I’m so glad you’re back! I missed talking to you at lunch.” 

Todoroki blushed. 

“I’m going to sit next to you, okay?” he asked, squeezing into the seat next to Todoroki and blocking his view of Bakugo. Todoroki peered around him, only to spot Kirishima occupying Bakugo’s attention across the cafeteria. Some of the tension seemed to ease with their broken eyeline, and Midoriya’s chatter further relaxed the mood. “Did you guys hear that there’s going to be a guest panel next week? I wonder who the panelists will be! I heard the theme was villain apprehension and processing. Do you think Tsuragamae will come?” 

Iida pushed his glasses up his nose. “That’s an astute guess. I’m sure some law enforcement will be in attendance to explain the proper procedures.” 

Todoroki frowned, trying to peer around Midoriya again, but the boy’s fluffy hair was in the way and Todoroki quickly got distracted. 

Midoriya’s hair was so… puffy. Like a cloud. If Todoroki leaned forward a little bit, he could bury his whole face in it, like a pillow. 

“What do you think, Todoroki?” Midoriya asked, and Todoroki realized he’d lost track of the conversation. 

“I think whatever you think,” he decided. For some reason, Midoriya laughed at this. 

“Ah, Todoroki-kun, I can always count on you for support,” Midoriya said, holding a fist out in the air between them. Hesitantly, Todoroki knocked their knuckles together. Midoriya laughed again, and Todoroki’s heart instantly felt lighter. 

Sometimes Todoroki had to wonder if it was Midoriya’s smile that made him happy, or just his existence. Sometimes, just Midoriya sitting next to him was enough.

4.

Todoroki crouched low, loud explosions in his ear piece making it difficult to focus. “You moron,” Todoroki ground into his wrist watch. The device had a small microphone inside. “This is a stealth mission, stop blowing everything up!” 

“To be fair,” Yaoyorozu chimed in over the comms, “He is providing adequate distraction for your expedition to go undetected, Todoroki-san.” 

“Has anyone seen Hagakure?” Ojiro questioned over the line. “We haven’t heard from her in ages.” 

“Of course we haven’t seen her, idiot,” Sero quipped.

“I’m pretty sure she’s crossed into enemy territory,” Sato said. 

“Would all of you shut up?!” Bakugo finally erupted. “I’m trying to protect our flag! Not that you idiots would know anything about it!” They were playing an all-class game of capture the flag in Ground Beta. Official lessons had ended for the day, but their teachers had planned a supervised game of capture the flag, and not a single student had turned them down. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s Bakugo-speak for ‘I need backup’,” Sero mused. 

“Agreed. Send in the heavy artillery. Todoroki-san, abort mission. Please assist Bakguo,” Yaoyorozu said. She was stationed in one of Ground Beta’s many empty buildings, acting as their chief communications officer. Sero, Hagakure, Ojiro, Bakugo, and Todoroki were on offense, using their stealth training to sneak into enemy territory. Meanwhile, Ashido, Shouji, Sato, and Aoyama were on defense, protecting the flag with their quirks. 

Todoroki couldn’t help but huff in annoyance. 

“Shut up, Half n’ Half! I don’t need you,” Bakugo said and then promptly grunted, presumably taking a heavy hit. 

“Give me intel,” Todoroki said, already running towards the sound of explosions. “How many attackers? Who is it?” 

Bakugo scoffed, voice hoarse. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

It was suddenly quiet. 

“Are you… hiding?” Todoroki asked. 

“Shut up!” 

Todoroki managed a laugh. He quickly scaled a fire escape to get a bird's eye view of the battlefield. When he got to the top, he was greeted by a familiar face. Midoriya waved from the building across the street, barely tall enough to see over the ledge. “Hi, Todoroki-kun!” 

Todoroki hopped up on the building’s edge. “Ah, Midoriya,” he said, voice barely loud enough to carry across the street. “What are you up to?” 

Midoriya shrugged, jumping up on his own ledge and gesturing to his soot-covered costume. “Oh, you know. The usual.” 

Todoroki snorted. 

“Stop consorting with the enemy!” Bakugo snapped. 

Todoroki smirked. “Why are you scared?” 

“Who are you talking to?” MIdoriya asked, and then lit up like a Christmas tree. “Oh! Did Yaoyorozu make you communication devices? She’s so clever! Ah, but that puts our team at such a disadvantage, seeing as we can’t communicate as effectively with each other…” Midoriya continued to mumble and Bakugo scoffed. 

“I can hear that idiot murmuring from here,” he complained. “He’s going to give away his team’s whole strategy!” 

“You know,” Sato chimed in over the comms, “Sometimes when you’re complaining about Midoriya, it’s almost like you’re worried, Bakugo.” 

“Shut the fuck up right now.” 

“That’s true,” Sero mused. “You’ve been offering him a lot of helpful advice lately.” 

“This isn’t news,” Ashido said, speaking up for the first time in awhile. “We all know Bakugo cares about Midoriya. They’re childhood friends! He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him.” 

There was a pause, and Sero made a gleeful noise. “Oh my god, he’s not denying it!” 

Todoroki’s stomach twisted. He felt sick at the thought of Bakugo caring for Midoriya. That was… that was his job. “That can’t possibly be true,” Todoroki said, and Midoriya stopped mumbling to look at him, head tilting in confusion. 

“You don’t know shit, you fucking half-melted bastard. I’ll fucking kill you,” Bakugo said. Todoroki shifted on the ledge, irate, and a small piece of gravel fell from the edge of the building. It hit a balcony railing on the way down, and over his ear piece, he heard the tiny sound of a pebble hitting metal. 

He looked down. Blond hair poked out from one of the balcony railings. 

“You moron,” Todoroki repeated. “How are you at the top of the class when you’re so bad at this?” 

“Bad at what?” Bakugo asked, and Todoroki dropped from the top of the building. 

He caught the edge of the balcony in one hand and hauled himself up and over to where Bakugo was. Bakugo, alarmed, created sparks in his fingers. “Quit it, I’m here to help you,” Todoroki said, dodging and explosion. However, he couldn’t resist a swift knee to Bakugo’s gut in retaliation. 

“You’re here to be an absolute dick,” Bakugo argued, grabbing Todoroki’s hair, and yanking. 

Todoroki scoffed even as he doubled over. “Real childish,” he complained.

He was about to retaliate by freezing Bakugo’s jaw shut when Midoriya’s head popped down from the balcony above. Green lightning flickered over his face, his hair standing on end. “Um, aren’t you two forgetting something?” Midoriya asked. And with that, he stomped on the ceiling, and the concrete balcony above broke free from the wall. Bakugo and Todoroki dove in opposite directions to avoid being squashed like spiders.

When Todoroki landed on the neighboring windowsill, he found he wasn’t alone. “Hey!” Kirishima greeted, a hardened smile on his face. “Sorry to do this to you!” He landed a punch square to Todoroki’s jaw. It felt like getting hit with a rock. 

Defensively, Todoroki lit himself on fire. He’d been so surprised by Kirishima’s presence, he wasn’t thinking clearly. 

Kirshima punched him again, clearly unaffected by the heat in his hardened state. Todoroki coughed when Kirshima’s shoulder caught him square in the chest. 

An explosion rocked the building. Kirishima and Todoroki both held tight to the window trim. “I think Bakugo just took out one of the structural supports,” Kirishima said. There was a loud crash and Bakugo and Midoriya both went sailing by overhead. The building tremored dangerously. 

“Pretty sure Midoriya just took out another one,” Todoroki said, creating a slide of ice and throwing Kirishima down it. As Kirishima tumbled and rolled, Todoroki slid down gracefully on his feet: cool and collected while the building crumbled behind him. 

When they reached the street, Kirishima stood up, clutching his head and clearly disoriented. Todoroki poised to strike, but before he could, a buzzer rang and a projection lit up in the sky above with a blue flag.

“Team Blue has captured the flag,” Aizawa drawled over the loudspeaker. “Please return to the viewing room for critique and for your teaching staff to reset the course for the next round.” The sound system crackled offline and back on almost immediately. “Also, for your first critique: try not to crumble entire buildings to dust during a simple game of capture the flag.” 

Kirishima and Todoroki both turned to look at the leveled building behind them. 

“Those two sure can be scary, huh?” Kirishima asked. 

Todoroki nodded in agreement. 

5.

After their third round of capture the flag, the teachers deemed it was time to stop. Todoroki sat next to Midoriya, sipping on a juice box contently and listening to his best friend prattle on about each round. Todoroki’s team had won twice, a fact Midoriya attributed to Yaoyorozu’s leadership. 

Todoroki didn’t argue. He was glad Midoriya saw Yaoyorozu’s competency as a strategist. He also agreed that she was a good tactician. 

The quiet moment was broken when Bakugo approached, Kirishima in tow. Todoroki tensed.

“Here,” Bakugo said, throwing an ice pack at Midoriya. “You need to heal up fast so I can kill you properly the next time we’re up against each other.” 

Midoriya’s eyes watered, although he didn’t look upset. “Bakugo…” 

He seemed… touched by Bakugo’s words, but Todoroki didn't trust him. He stood up, crossing his arms. “Do you need something?” he asked. Bakugo narrowed his eyes at him and shook his head. “Then leave.” 

“We were just going,” Kirishima agreed. “Good job out there, you two! You put up a mean fight!” 

“Hai!” Midoriya replied, bowing even as Kirishima left with Bakugo. Todoroki’s eyes narrowed as he spotted Kirishima giving Bakugo an encouraging pat on the back. Midoriya straightened up, his eyes sparkling. He brought his fists up in excitement, almost squeezing all the liquid out of his juice box. “I think that was a compliment!” he told Todoroki excitedly, a happy smile on his face. 

Todoroki frowned, taking another sip of apple juice. Even if that was true, he didn’t want Bakugo complimenting Midoriya. That was his responsibility. 

Clearly, Bakugo needed to learn his place.

6.

Uraraka pulled her blanket up to her shoulders. “It’s freezing down here,” she complained, crinkling her nose. 

Asui tilted her head. “Todo-chan. Do you mind?” 

Todoroki blinked away from watching Midoriya and Bakugo in the kitchen to pay attention to his friends. Shortly after, Todoroki realized his right side was near sub-zero temperatures. He quickly fought to even out the temperature within the room and within himself. “Sorry.” 

Uraraka shifted the blanket to wrap herself up like a burrito. “It’s okay, Todoroki-kun. When I’m upset, my tears float to the ceiling!” 

“I’m upset?” Todoroki asked. 

Uraraka sighed, and Asui ribbeted. Iida looked up from the book in his lap, adjusting his classes with his index fingers. “Ah, Todoroki-kun… I’m afraid you always look somewhat distraught when Midoriya is talking to Bakugo.” 

“Or talking to anyone, really!” Uraraka chimed in. 

“That’s not true,” Ausi said. “Todo-chan is thoughtful when Midoriya is with other people. He’s only angry or sad when it comes to Bakugo.” 

Uraraka sighed. “Yes… Because he knows all kinds of Deku secrets that we don’t.” 

“I’m sorry,” Iida apologized for what had to be the hundredth time. “If you must know, men have an honor system in place that prevents me from saying more on the subject, despite your well-intentioned prying.” 

Asui looked contemplative, eyes blinking slow and lizard-like, before positing, “Do you mean the ‘bro code’?”

“That is precisely what I mean,” Iida agreed. 

“I’m not upset,” Todoroki corrected, feeling the need to speak up now before the conversation continued further down a strange path and he lost the opportunity to set the record straight. “I’m just worried. Nothing good happens when those two are together.” 

Asui tapped her chin. “Honestly, Todo-chan, I’ve been more worried about you and Bakugo together than Mido-chan and Bakugo together,” she said. 

Todoroki frowned. He watched as Midoriya took popcorn out of the microwave. Bakugo wasn’t yelling at him; in fact, it seemed like they were having a quiet, pleasant conversation. “I’m just worried,” he said again. 

“Deku-kun is a big boy,” Uraraka said. “He can take care of himself.” 

“We’re just his backup,” Iida agreed with a sigh. 

“Oh, hell no. I’m not anyone’s sidekick,” Uraraka argued. Meanwhile, their other classmates started filtering into the common area. It was almost 8 o’clock, and it was Wednesday. That meant it was movie night. 

Subtly, Todoroki spread his banket out, wanting to make sure to save a space for Midoriya - although, he didn’t need to. Everyone seemed to know to avoid the open spot next to Todoroki, in some cases sitting on the floor instead of the empty couch cushion. 

“Here! I’m here,” Midoriya said, jumping over the back of the couch. He took his spot squished next to Todoroki with a big bowl of popcorn. 

“I’ll take that,” Bakugo said, snatching the popcorn bowl from Midoriya’s hands. 

“No you won’t,” Todoroki said, stealing it back. 

“Relax!” Kirishima said, pulling Bakugo into a fond headlock. “I’ve got bowls for everybody!” Kirishima passed out bowls to the class, and Bakugo helped pass around the popcorn. Todoroki frowned, but settled slightly when Midoriya put his feet in his lap. 

Momentarily distracted, Todoroki looked down at Midoriya’s toes. He gave them a squeeze before resting his hand on Midoriya’s shin.“You have such small feet,” he decided.

Midoriya laughed. “Just watch the movie, Todoroki-kun. You’re all worked up.” 

Todoroki frowned. He was worked up. He sat up a little straighter, trying to work on controlling and evening out his breathing as Midoriya gave his hand a pat, his feet warm and comfortable in Todoroki’s lap.

7. 

“Midoriya-kun, I must insist you let me help you with your tie,” Iida said. 

Midoriya looked up from his phone, a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth and a distracted look in his eye. “Huh?” he asked, uniform askew and hair somehow more of a rats nest than usual. 

Iida huffed. “It’s important to be presentable when attending a prestigious institution such as UA. Please, allow me to help,” Iida demanded, standing behind Midoriya at the breakfast table to redo his tie. 

Midoriya didn’t respond but he also didn’t move away, eyes glued to his phone. 

Todoroki frowned over his still steaming cup of tea. Midoriya wasn’t usually so distracted. He sipped quietly, watching as their classmates buzzed around Midoriya, bright and chipper while Midoriya’s shoulders slumped further and further. 

“About time!” Uraraka chided when Asui finally came downstairs. “Let’s go before we’re late.” 

“Please at least grab a protein bar!” Iida told Asui as she jumped towards the door. “You need to eat breakfast to stay alert and attentive in class.” 

Todoroki stood up and gently lowered Midoriya’s phone. 

Finally, Midoriya stared back at him. “Oh, it’s time to go,” he said when he realized their friends were halfway out the door. “Thank you, Todoroki-kun.” 

Todoroki just nodded, handing Midoriya his bag. Midoriya took it gratefully and headed towards the door. Todoroki had to grab his arm and pull him to the side when he almost walked into a lamppost. “You seem distracted,” Todoroki said, hoping he wasn’t overstepping. 

“Oh,” Midoriya said, eyebrows furrowed together. “Yeah, I guess- I dunno.” 

Todoroki was quiet, waiting for Midoriya to continue. 

“I think it’s too much to get into right now,” Midoriya said as they stepped into the school building. “Maybe at lunch we can talk about, I just- I’m having a bad morning.” 

“Is there anything I can do?” Todoroki asked. 

“No,” Midoriya said. Tears suddenly sprang to his eyes, and he looked up at Todoroki, pain laced across his face. “But- But thank you for asking, Todoroki-kun. I appreciate you so much.” His words were pinched and tight. 

Todoroki frowned, wanting to press further, but they had already reached the classroom, and they were nearly late. Both had to rush to their seats. 

The first two classes passed by uneventfully, although Midoriya increasingly checked his phone under the desk, growing more and more upset each time. Todoroki missed nearly every word his teachers spoke. He was too busy staring at the back of Midoriya’s head, wishing he could read his mind. 

“Now,” Aizawa drawled from the front of the room. The black board was covered in different defense holds. “We’ve discussed wrist holds at length this week, but how do we apply this skill to a tentacle quirk?” 

Jirou raised her hand. Aizawa nodded at her. “You grip as close to the shoulder as possible during the fight.” 

“Close,” Aizawa said. 

Midoriya raised his hand tentatively. “You need two points of contact.” 

“That’s correct. Can anyone elaborate?” 

The class was quiet. 

“Anyone?” Aizawa drawled. 

At the next bout of silence, Bakugo huffed and raised his hand. “You should widen your grip,” Bakugo said, eyes narrowed. “You should stabilize as much of the limb as possible to limit mobility.”

“Good,” Aizawa said, offering Bakugo one of his scarier smiles. “Good teamwork, Bakugo and Midoirya.” 

Bakugo scoffed. 

“Come on, Baku-bro,” Sero said. “Are you really so allergic to being part of a team?” 

“I’m not allergic, I just don’t need anyone. Especially not useless scum,” he said. He was glaring at Sero, however, it was unclear whether his words were actually directed at Hanta or at Midoriya. 

Jirou stuck her fingers in her ears. “Sensei, can you please change my seat to the opposite side of the room from this freak? He’s always screaming,” she complained. 

“Am not!” Bakugo yelled. 

Jirou’s face crinkled up. “Case and point.” 

“I’ll kill you!” 

Midoriya took a small gulp of air - Todoroki could see it from across the room. Midoriya had the smallest tells. Todoroki had to watch him closely to see when he was scared. “Bakugo, just-” Midoriya reached out to put a hand on Bakugo’s elbow. At the barest touch, Bakugo whirled around on him. 

“Shut up, nerd!” 

The class went silent. 

It wasn’t an unusual thing for Bakugo to say. Bakugo spent as much time screaming as he did breathing, and usually, it was best to let him wear himself out so they could get back to class or training. 

But something was different today. There was a tension in the air that wasn’t usually there. Midoriya had been off all morning, and at the sharp words from Bakugo, tears quickly filled Midoriya’s eyes. His chin wobbled. 

Bakugo looked horrified, his eyes so wide it was almost comical. 

Midoriya raised his hand. “Sensei,” he said, voice hoarse as he held back tears. “Can I please have the bathroom pass?” 

Aizawa seemed worried, but nodded. “Of course.” 

Midoriya got up, all eyes glued to his back, including Todoroki’s. He reached the front of the room to grab one of the two hall passes. All of a sudden, Todoroki’s chair screeched against the floor as he stood up. 

“Sensei,” Todoroki said, not aware of what he was saying as he was saying it. He was angry, and frustrated, and his hands itched to fight. But at the sight of Midoriya’s tears, comfort took precedence. “Can I please have the second bathroom pass?” 

The whole class “ooooh”ed. 

Wordlessly, Aizawa held up the second pass. Todoroki rushed up to grab it. Midoriya was staring at him like a deer in headlights. His look of confusion and awe was at least a little better than the hurt that had previously taken hold of his expression. 

Unsure of himself, Todoroki put a gentle hand between Midoriya’s shoulder blades and guided him out the door. Midoriya tripped on his own feet to keep up. 

Todoroki relaxed when they were out of sight from their curious class. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Midoriya said on the way to the bathroom, freezing in front of one of the hallway windows. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry, I just-” The pained look was back. Midoriya’s eyes started to water again, and he bit his bottom lip. 

Todoroki’s heart clenched. “Midoriya… I don’t mind worrying about you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Midoriya didn’t answer, just buried his face in his hands and started to cry in earnest. Todoroki hovered uncertainly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Midoriya wheezed. 

“Don’t be,” Todoroki said. Hesitantly, he dropped a hand on Midoriya’s head, his fluffy hair under his palm. Midoriya shuddered and scrubbed at his face. 

“Normally that kind of thing wouldn’t upset me. He wasn’t even being mean, he was just being Bakugo. And I know you don’t like him, but I don’t want you to be mad at him, he didn’t do anything wrong this time. It’s not his fault, it’s me. It’s just me today.” 

Todoroki pressed his lips together. He dropped his hand. “No one should speak to you that way.” 

“But I- I should be stronger,” Midoriya argued. For just a second, he took his face out of his hands. He was pink and tearstained, and he covered his face right back up. “And Todoroki, the news lately… All Might is gone. Everyone is so scared. It’s like… like we’re alone, we don’t have a hero. And I- I have to be strong.” His voice broke. In the blink of an eye, Midoriya reached out and grabbed the front of Todoroki’s shirt. 

Frozen, Todoroki’s hands hovered around Midoriya’s shoulders as Midoriya buried his face in Todoroki’s chest. He was scared to hold him. 

Todoroki pressed his lips together again in a thin line. “I don’t know how to do this,” he said. He didn’t know what to say, or how to help, or what to do. Midoriya just shuddered, holding back a sob. 

Todoroki inwardly kicked himself. 

Determined, he brought his hands to Midoriya’s spine, pulling him into a hug. “I don’t understand… You’re… upset about All Might?” he asked. Midoriya nodded into Todoroki’s shirt. “Well, what happened?” he asked. “Was it… something on your phone?” Another nod. “Someone said something mean about him?”

“A lot of someones. And a lot of somethings,” Midoriya answered. 

Todoroki hummed. “You love All Might.” 

“I do,” Midoriya said, although the words were more of a sob than anything else. Todoroki squeezed him, not sure what else to do to help. “I really love All Might so much, and so many other people still do, I know. And I just- I just wanna be a hero and make him proud, but I’m not- I’m not strong enough.” 

“I think you’re strong,” Todoroki promised. He was trying. “You’re the strongest person I know.” 

Midoriya sniffled. “You’re just saying that.” 

“I’m not,” Todoroki said. He moved one hand to squeeze at Midoriya’s bicep. “See? Definitely the strongest.” 

Midoriya let out a startled laugh. He pushed tears from his face, clearly overwhelmed and still crying. “You’re- You’re not very good at this,” he said, pulling away. 

“Ah. Yes. Uraraka probably would have been better.” 

Midoriya managed a watery smile. He grabbed one of Todoroki’s hands in both of his own. “But Uraraka didn’t ask for the second bathroom pass. You did.” 

Todoroki sucked in a breath, puffing his chest out in pride. “I did,” he agreed. 

Midoriya looked up at him, eyes sparkling. Todoroki reached out to push a teartrack off his cheek. A warm tension buzzed between them, and Todoroki found himself leaning forward, like he was being sucked in by gravity. 

“Stop!”

The scream came from above, and a ceiling tile cracked in half. 

Principal Nedzu dropped from the ceiling and Midoriya squawked, jumping out of the way. Todoroki sidestepped as Nedzu managed to land on his feet between them. 

“Not yet, not yet,” the principal said. “You two have to wait.” 

“W-wait for what?” Midoriya asked, still clutching his heart after the scare. Nedzu ushered them back to class, waving his tiny paws at them. 

“For a higher probability! Too soon, and your chances of longevity are slim to none!” 

“What?” Midoriya asked, practically tripping as Nedzu pushed them back to class. 

“Don’t worry! Soon! The time will be soon,” Nedzu assured them. Of what, Todoroki wasn’t sure, but his tone was surprisingly comforting for a mouse-bear to manage. “For now, get back to class! It’s important not to miss a minute of your education as Japan’s future heroes!” 

Midoriya frowned. “But-” 

“Good luck!” Nedzu said, giving them a push into the classroom. 

Todoroki just blinked. Midoriya looked extremely confused, but headed back to his seat as he scrubbed his face. Todoroki watched as their principal walked away, lingering before heading back to his seat. Longevity. 

Todoroki bit his bottom lip. 

8.

The bell rang, and their class was free to go. 

Yaoyorozu packed up her things and waited for Todoroki at the front of the class. “Are you still interested in studying this afternoon?” she asked. Todoroki barely heard her, watching as Midoriya stayed back with Uraraka and Iida. Uraraka gave his hair a fond ruffle, and Midoriya managed a small smile. 

“Oh, um… I was thinking I should probably check on Izuku.” 

“Izuku?” Yaoyorozu asked knowingly. 

Todoroki blanched, his whole body turning to ice. “I meant Midoriya.” 

“I’m sure you did,” Yaoyorozu agreed.

Embarrassed, Todoroki changed his mind. “But I suppose he seems well taken care of as is,” he said, nodding to where Uraraka and Iida were clearly managing to put a smile back on Midoriya’s face. “And we did have an agreement to study. I’m sure Midoriya will be fine; I can always check back in at dinner.” 

“Sure,” Yaoyorozu said easily, leading the way out of the classroom. 

On the walk back to the dorms, they found themselves trailing behind Kirishima and Bakugo. Todoroki bristled, thinking back on the way Bakugo had snapped at Midoriya in class. Annoyed, Todoroki found himself saying loudly, “You know what I hate?” he asked Yaoyorozu, who jumped in surprise. Usually, they didn’t talk much on their walks to and from the dorm. “People who scream all of the time.”

Bakugo stilled, and Kirishima looked at him in alarm. Todoroki stopped walking as well.

“Isn’t it annoying,” Todoroki continued, “When someone just yells, and yells, and yells because they’re scared no one will listen?” 

Yaoyorozu stiffened. She gently grabbed his sleeve. “Um, Todoroki-san…”

“It just makes you wonder why they’re so afraid,” Todoroki mused. “Maybe it’s because they know. They know that deep down inside, they’re rotten, and they’re scared everyone else will see it too and stop listening. So they scream, just to cover it up.” 

“Woah, hey,” Kirishima said, turning around. He looked upset, like Todoroki’s words were hurting him, too. “It’s not like that. Bakugo feels really bad about what happened in class!”

“And how would you know?” Todoroki asked. “It’s not like he bothered to apologize.” 

“Because I know Bakugo! I care about him, I listen to him,” Kirishima argued, bundling up one of Bakugo’s hands in both of his own. “You don’t give him any credit, he’s trying. It’s just-” 

Bakugo pulled his hand away sharply. 

“I don’t need your help,” he told Kirishima and then glared at Todoroki. “What do you want?”

A million things. He wanted Bakugo to apologize to Midoriya. He wanted Bakugo to leave him alone. He didn’t want to hear another word out of Bakugo’s mouth if it didn’t include groveling for Midoriya’s forgiveness. Midoriya had been hurt by Bakugo - in ways that were irreversible. 

And maybe, in the back of his mind, Todoroki wanted those things from his father, too, and that’s why he was so angry now. 

“I want you to apologize,” Todoroki said. “And mean it.” 

“Fine,” Bakugo said. “I was going to apologize anyway; I didn’t need you to fucking tell me to do it. Izuku,” Bakugo announced, and Todoroki turned behind him only to realize that Midoriya wasn’t more than ten feet away, sandwiched between Uraraka and Iida with a horrified look on his face. “I’m sorry for snapping at you in class. This teamwork thing is new to me. I’m working on it.” 

Midoriya looked between Todoroki and Bakugo, seemingly terrified. He squirmed in place. “I- I forgive you, Bakugo.” 

“No,” Todoroki demanded. “That’s not enough. That’s not all there is. You- you can’t just say I’m sorry like that and have it be over. Midoriya deserves more than that. It’s not enough.” 

“It’s enough for now,” Midoriya promised. 

“No, it’s not! It’s-” 

Midoriya jogged forward to take Todoroki’s hand, cutting him off. “It is,” he promised, eyes imploring, searching. He stared up at Todoroki, seemingly desperate for him to understand. “It’s a step forward, and it’s enough for now.” 

Kirishma reached for Bakugo again, and this time, Bakugo didn’t pull his hand away. “See? Today was just an accident. We were all feeling stressed and sensitive… It’s fine! It’s been a long day, huh? Let’s all go back to the dorm and relax.” 

Yaoyorozu cleared her throat. “You know? Why don’t I make some chamomile tea for everyone. That would surely help.” 

“Oooooh,” Uraraka said, stepping forward to help lighten the mood. “Yaoyorozu has the nicest tea collection. Please make some for me as well! Oh, or wait, can I have jasmine?” 

Iida tsked. “It’s rather late in the day for jasmine tea, Uraraka. It is improper to consume caffeine after 3:00 p.m.” 

And just like that, the tension was broken. Kirishima all but dragged Bakugo back to the dorms. Uraraka gushed over Yaoyorozu’s nice things, and Iida chided her for being so materialistic. Meanwhile, Midoriya bumped hips and shoulders together with Todoroki as they walked. “You don’t have to do that,” Midoriya said quietly so their friends wouldn’t overhear. “Thank you for being my hero, but you don’t have to jump into battles for me, okay? It’s enough just to ask for the second bathroom pass.” 

Todoroki pressed his lips together, glaring at the sidewalk. 

It wasn’t enough. Nothing for Izuku ever would be.

9.

“The next pair will be…” Recovery Girl pulled two names from the hat. “Kirishima and Todoroki.” 

Kirishima waved at Todoroki from across the room with a bright smile. 

Todoroki frowned. 

For health class, they had each been paired into teams to discuss a different quirk-related illness. Recovery Girl had assured them that the information was important for them to know as professional heroes, both to evaluate their own health and safety before going out in the field as well as to help civilians with similar symptoms. 

Due to his difficulty in most social situations, Todoroki would have preferred to be paired up with someone he knew well. He didn’t interact very often with Kirishima, and he wasn’t sure where they stood. 

Everyone broke into pairs, and Kirishima pulled his desk next to Todoroki’s. “Hey! It’s cool we got paired together.” 

“Mm.”

Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, actually… I’ve kind of been wanting to talk to you,” he admitted. “I just wanted to make sure we were good.” 

“Good?” Todoroki asked. 

“Yeah.” Kirishima ran his fingers through his stiff hair, not managing to move a strand out of place. “It’s just… I know you and Bakugo have your differences. But just because he’s my boyfriend, it doesn’t mean I always take his side, you know? I get why you have difficulty forgiving him. Honestly, I think he has difficulty forgiving himself. It’s just… He’s trying, and that’s why I support him.” 

Todoroki didn’t know how to respond to that.

Kirishima waited for awhile, seemingly hoping Todoroki would speak up, but when he didn’t, he bit his lip with his shark teeth. “Do you think… you could stop antagonizing him? He’s working on his anger.” 

Todoroki scoffed. 

“He is!” Kirishima insisted. “It doesn’t come easily to him.” 

“I don’t see him trying to reign in his anger at all,” Todoroki said. 

“That’s the thing,” Kirishima said. “It’s not about hiding it, it’s about expressing it in appropriate ways. And also not feeling angry so often! He’s been doing a really good job, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” 

Todoroki was quiet for a moment. “It isn’t enough,” he decided. 

Kirishima offered him a worried look. “Well… well, what will be enough?” he asked. 

Todoroki huffed and looked down at his book. “Let’s just work on the project,” he deflected, not wanting to dissect all of his complicated emotions with Kirishima. If he was going to talk about it with anyone, it would be Midoriya. 

Kirishima sighed but cracked open his textbook to the right page. 

“So Hinohara Syndrome…” Kirishima mused. “First we need a list of symptoms.” 

“Pain while using self-transformation quirks, irregular and/or inconsistent forms, limb differences, swelling, and unusual growth,” Todoroki read from the textbook. This disease wasn’t applicable to his quirk, but it might be to Shouji. 

Kirishima hummed. “Okay, causes?” 

Todoroki skimmed the text. “Mainly overuse of quirk, and exhaustion. Potentially, it can be the cause of another person’s quirk.” 

Kirishima jotted it all down on their worksheet. “Treatment?” he asked. 

Todoroki found the answer, and they went back and forth for a while, pulling together the required information. Without idle chit chat, they were finished much faster than most of their peers. Todoroki took the opportunity to check up on Midoriya, who had been paired with Koda. 

They were signing together. 

When did Midoriya find time to learn that? 

“So…” Kirishima drawled, following his gaze. “What’s the deal with you, two?” he asked. 

Todoroki blinked. “Huh?” 

“You and Midoriya,” Kirishima clarified. “You’re really protective of him. It’s super manly.” 

“Oh,” Todoroki said. “I’m not sure.” A lie. Todoroki had been hiding feelings for Midoriya for a while now, and it was getting more and more apparent just how obvious he was. Even the principal knew about their budding relationship.

“No worries, just… I was gonna say… you know, I get it,” Kirishima promised. “I always rush to Bakugo’s defense, too. I just think he’s so great! And cool! I want other people to see it, too.” 

Todoroki thought about this. “Midoriya… He doesn’t even see how important he is,” he explained. Kirishima nodded, prompting him to go on. “I know that he… worries.” It was so difficult to talk about his feelings with anyone other than Izuku. “He takes what other people say to heart. I want to make sure he only hears nice things.” 

Kirishima teared up. “Bro.” 

“Don’t get too excited,” Todoroki said, instinctively putting a wall back up. “He’s my best friend.” 

“No, no,” Kirishima said. “I get it, I’m sorry, I’m just… I know what you mean. Midoriya is my friend, too. I’m glad that he has you.” 

“But he’s not just my friend,” Todoroki argued. “He’s-” Todoroki flexed and unflexed his fingers in thought. 

There had been nothing, and then there had been Izuku. 

“No one cared about me before Midoriya. No one helped. So… so I’m going to do everything I can to repay him.” 

Kirishima quieted some at this. “That’s… that’s really manly, Todoroki. I really respect you.”

Todoroki just hummed and went back to their worksheet. It was all filled out, but with so much time left in the class period, he wanted to make sure they weren’t missing anything. 

They worked amicably for a while. Todoroki did like Kirishima; he was friendly, and he was good at filling awkward silences with easy conversation. The last fifteen minutes of class passed quickly, and the bell rang for lunch. Bakugo held out an expectant hand to Kirishima from across the room. Kirishima looked anxious to join him, but he turned back to Todoroki. 

“So are we cool?” 

Todoroki nodded. “We’re cool.” 

“Cool,” Kirishima said, closing his textbook. “Please go easy on Bakugo. He’s changing.” 

“I make no promises,” Todoroki said dryly, but Kirishima just laughed before running off to link hands with Bakugo. 

“Hurry up, Todoroki-kun!” Uraraka called from the door. Next to her, Midoriya waved at him shyly. Todoroki caught Bakugo rolling his eyes in Midoriya’s direction, but with Kirishima’s request fresh in his mind, he tamped down his anger and joined his friends.

The day had so far been peaceful, and Todoroki didn’t want to ruin it. 

10. 

“This was a bad idea; this was a bad idea. Why does this always happen to me?” Midoriya muttered under his breath, his voice high pitched and thready. 

“It’ll be okay, Deku-kun! We’ve got this!” Uraraka promised. 

They had been divided into teams for a training exercise, similar to Capture Weapon, but this time with injured hostages. Almost as if to anger Bakugo and terrify Midoriya on purpose, Aizawa had divided the teams of five into two very familiar groups: 

Midoriya, Todoroki, Uraraka, Iida, and Asui as the heroes.

Bakugo, Kirishima, Ashido, Kaminari, and Sero as the villains. 

“He does this on purpose,” Midoriya insisted. “To work out our feelings. Why can’t I be allowed to repress my emotions in peace? I’ve gotten really good at it.” 

“No offense, Mido-chan, but you’re terrible at repressing emotions,” Asui said. 

“It’s true; you do cry freely and often,” Iida agreed. 

Uraraka snorted. “You’re almost as bad as Todoroki-kun.” 

Todoroki blinked, while Iida looked affronted on his behalf. “Uraraka-kun, please stop talking about our classmates when they can clearly hear you.” 

Midoriya clapped his hands together, shifting focus. “Okay, we need a game plan,” he decided. “Unfortunately, Bakugo has been unpredictable lately. Typically, in this type of situation, I’d assume he’d ignore his villain duties since they don’t align with his personal goals and moral beliefs, and instead attack me solely for the purpose of antagonizing me and having another victory to gloat over. However-” Midoriya’s eyes flickered up to meet Todoroki’s. “Lately, he has found another target.” 

“So you two should split up!” Uraraka said. “You can both go in from different angles. Whoever runs into Bakugo should distract him, and the other should go for the hostages.” 

Midoriya hummed, his eyes sharp with concentration and his fist in front of his mouth as he thought. “Asui’s quirk makes her the best scout, seeing as she’s able to climb walls. Ah, but Iida would be able to cover more square footage in a shorter amount of time.” 

“We have twenty minutes,” Uraraka said. “Iida, Asui, and I can each take a quadrant and search for the villain’s base. We can arrange a meeting point for about 10 minutes in and then make our rescue. With my anti-gravity, Asui’s tongue and climbing abilities, and Iida’s speed, I think we could stabilize and rescue all five hostages in our remaining time with you and Todoroki acting as distractions.” 

Midoriya hummed. “Agreed. And if anyone needs backup?” 

“We’ll keep our ears open,” Iida said. “If you’re close to the sound of a fight going south, please lend your support.” 

“Okay,” Midoriya agreed, seemingly satisfied. However, he gave Todoroki a hesitant look. “Todoroki-kun? You’re frowning.” 

Todoroki fought to restore a neutral expression on his face, but found he was unable. “I don’t like the thought of you and Bakugo fighting again,” he said honestly, seeing as his feelings were already made clear via his expression. 

Midoriya tilted his head and looked at him consideringly. “Now you know how I feel,” he teased.

Todoroki bristled. 

Midoriya grabbed his hand. “I can take care of myself,” he promised. “Can you please just try to trust me?” 

Todoroki squeezed Midoriya’s fingers. “Okay.” 

The clock beeped to warn them they had a minute left to finalize their strategy before the timer started. Iida, Uraraka, and Asui quickly divided enemy territory into territories that made even use of their quirk. Midoriya made use of the time with some quick stretches. He seemed so focused. 

Todoroki rolled out his shoulders. 

When the timer buzzed, Iida shot off like a rocket, Asui hopping after him and Uraraka taking off in a jog. Midoriya ricocheted to the top of the nearest building and disappeared. 

Todoroki sighed and started walking. 

Even if Bakugo didn’t seek him out, Todoroki would find him. He walked down the middle of the street, completely out in the open, daring for someone from the opposite team to find him. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and decided to wait in the dead center of enemy territory: exposed on all sides by a large intersection.

He heard a faint sound behind him, like a rubber sole scraping on concrete. 

“I’m waiting,” he said patiently. 

There was a louder scrape and Todoroki stepped to the side, a tidal wave of ice flowing from his hand and capturing his opponent in seconds. He sighed when he realized it was Kaminari who had lunged at him. 

“Dude! Isn’t this kind of overkill?” Kaminari complained, completely sheathed in ice.

“If Ashido finds you, she’ll melt you out in seconds,” Todoroki argued. 

“But she’s guarding the hostages!” 

Todoroki smirked. “What a shame.” 

“You’re so cold, Todoroki,” Kaminari whined. 

Todoroki was about to chastise him for the pun, but before he could, an explosion rocked the ground, and a green glow flickered out from a tight alleyway a few blocks away. There was another ‘boom’ and the window panes rattled. 

“Stay there,” Todoroki told Kaminari. 

Kaminari tried to wiggle his fingers. “Don’t have much of a choice,” he countered. 

Todoroki reinforced the cracked base of the ice encasing Kaminari before seeking out the sound of the explosions. He turned the corner and found Bakugo and Midoriya panting and bloodied. It had happened so fast. Midoriya had a head wound that was trickling blood into his eye, while Bakugo’s arm was scraped from shoulder to elbow

Bakugo took a couple gasping breaths and then let out a determined scream, leaping at Midoriya with an explosion forming in one hand. 

Todoroki saw red. 

With firepower he didn’t know he possessed, he propelled himself to Midoriya, grabbing him in an awkward hold and forcing him out of the way of the explosion. Midoriya had been in a fighting stance, but he’d clearly been caught off guard by Todoroki crashing into him. “Wha-” 

Bakugo tucked and rolled, landing harshly on the concrete. He spat blood and stood up.“Of fucking course,” Bakugo sneered. “Icy Hot’s here to save the day.” 

Todoroki quickly stood up, whirling around to face Bakugo. 

Bakugo snorted. “What’s your problem, ha? This is a training exercise. We’re supposed to be fighting each other.” 

Todoroki cracked his neck. “Then you won’t mind fighting me.” 

Midoriya sat up. “Todoroki-” he said as a warning, but Todoroki didn’t listen to him, ice forming at his fingertips.

“It would be my pleasure,” Bakugo said with a terrifying grin. He lunged.

Todoroki dodged easily. An entire wall of windows shattered with one of Bakugo’s explosions. Todoroki avoided the falling glass and countered with a wall of ice. He managed to freeze one of Bakugo’s feet. 

Bakugo kicked himself free. He used his propulsion to aim a foot at Todoroki’s face, but Todoroki blocked with a well-placed elbow. Unfortunately, he didn’t see Bakugo’s fist coming at him until it was too late. 

Todoroki reeled from a punch to his right eye. He covered his face with one hand, stunned, and Bakugo landed another punch to his ribs. Desperate, Todoroki threw up a sheet of ice between them, needing a moment to gather himself. Bakugo broke through with an explosion, but Todoroki was already gone. 

He lept straight up, and came down with a kick to Bakugo’s jaw. He followed up with a knee to Bakugo’s stomach. 

Bakugo caught his leg in a tight grip. Todoroki pulled at his hair. Bakugo tore at his clothes. Soon, they were grappling against the brick of the building, broken glass crunching underfoot.

Todoroki was quickly finding himself overpowered. 

“You don’t know when enough is enough!” Bakugo complained. “This isn’t even about you!” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Todoroki said through gritted teeth. “I will always be there to protect Izuku from people like you.” 

Bakugo’s temper clearly flared at that, his form growing sloppy with anger. “Since when do you call Deku Izuku?!” Bakugo asked, furious, and Todoroki’s own rage only grew. 

“Since when do you care?” 

“Shut up!” Bakugo screamed, and released an explosion inches from Todoroki’s ear. Instantly, Todoroki felt the flesh of his ear burn off. He collapsed to the ground, glass shards biting at his knees. He toppled sideways. 

For what felt like minutes, he couldn’t hear, and he clutched at his bloodied face in confusion and fear, and after scrabbling at the ground in pain and agony for ages, he realized he was screaming. Tears poured down his face. 

When he noticed Bakugo was no longer on top of him, Todoroki sat up. Through his blurry vision, he spotted Bakugo across the alley, a terrified look on his face. 

He moved to get to his feet, but strong hands forced him back down. “Stop!” 

Midoriya was inches from his face. 

“Just stop. Stay down,” Midoriya demanded, his face scrunched up in anger. He looked… disappointed. Todoroki’s stomach whirled, and he gagged, whether in pain or concern he wasn’t sure. “Just stop doing this; I don’t need this; I’m okay.” Midoriya’s hands clutched at his shoulders. “Stay here, I’m going to get Recovery Girl.” 

Todoroki tried to sit up again. “But-” 

“No,” Midoriya said. “Stay here. Uraraka and Asui are here to look over you. Don’t move.” 

Todoroki blinked. He must have been really out of it because he hadn’t noticed either of the girls show up. Uraraka took Midoriya’s place as he sprang away, forcing his shoulders down when he tried to follow. “Todoroki-kun, you should really stay still,” she said. “Midoriya will be right back.” 

“You’re bleeding a lot, Todo-chan,” Asui said, her hands hovering above Todoroki worryingly. 

Todoroki let his head fall back, too dizzy and nauseous to sit up any longer. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Is Midoriya okay?” he asked, worried. 

Uraraka tilted her head down at him. “You know Deku-kun,” she said reassuringly. “He always is.” 

---

Todoroki woke up in the infirmary, and was immediately confronted with Midoriya throwing himself into his arms. “Oh, thank goodness,” Midoriya said all in one relieved breath. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Recovery Girl said you’d be fine, you didn’t even scar! But I was so worried, and you took so long to wake up, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m just glad you’re awake.” 

Todoroki blinked in confusion, looking around the nurse’s office. It was dark. Only his bedside table lamp was on, one of Midoriya’s notebooks abandoned on the nightstand. “How- How-” he tried to ask. His throat was dry. 

“Oh, hold on,” Midoriya said, pulling away. He helped Todoroki take a sip of water and answered Todoroki’s unasked question. “You’ve been asleep all afternoon! Recovery Girl said you’d be asleep at least for four hours, since you had to heal so much… But good news, you’re all better, just-” Midoriya reached out to gently touch the skin behind Todoroki’s ear. “Just a little bald patch,” he finished. “But it’ll grow back!” 

Todoroki reached to touch the bare skin behind his ear at the nape of his neck. He frowned. 

Midoriya smiled at him sympathetically. “It’s disorienting, huh? Every time I wake up here, it feels like it’s been years since I was last awake, but also only seconds. Sometimes it makes me nauseous.” 

Todoroki gagged. 

“Oh, it’s okay!” Midoriya said, thrusting out a trash can in alarm, and Todoroki threw up in it, his chest heaving. He fell back against the pillows when he was done, and Midoriya took his hand.

Todoroki pressed his lips together, ignoring the taste of vomit in favor of staring at Midoriya. They were alone. Midoriya’s eyes were so wide. Somehow they managed to pick up every trace of light in the room, sparkling bright despite the measly lamp next to him. Todoroki’s breath hitched. “Midoriya… You didn’t have to wait for me like this.” 

“But I did,” Midoriya argued. “I was worried about you.” 

Todoroki frowned. “I didn’t think you’d be worried.” 

Midoriya looked offended at this. “What? Why would you think that?”

“I thought you’d be mad,” Todoroki explained. 

Midoriya’s face shifted to something more resigned. “Ah… Well… I am… frustrated, I suppose, that these things keep happening. But you were hurt, Todoroki-kun. I was more worried about your face, and your eye, and your hearing than anything else.” 

Todoroki wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Oh.” 

Midoriya gave him a wary look. “Todoroki… Even when you do things I don’t like, you’re still important to me. And if you’re injured, then the most important thing is getting you better. Everything else can wait.” 

Todoroki found himself tearing up at this. “Oh,” he repeated. 

Midoriya squeezed his hand. “Ah, please don’t cry at that,” Midoriya said, scooting his chair a little closer in worry. “Please don’t cry. I care about you so much, Todoroki-kun, it’s okay… You don’t have to cry; it’s okay for me to worry about you and want to see you get better. It’s okay, this is how it’s supposed to be.”

“I care about you, too,” Todoroki found himself admitting. “I want to take care of you, but somehow you’re always taking care of me, and I don’t understand.” He couldn’t remember the last time he cried, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold back his tears. 

Midoriya tilted his head. “But I like taking care of you.” 

“But you’re important, too,” Todoroki argued, voice hoarse. 

Midoriya smiled, part endeared and part self-deprecating. “But this time, you’re the one who’s in the nurse’s office after a training injury. It’s my big chance to take care of someone else after a Recovery Girl trip! Don’t ruin my moment, okay? Just let me look after you.” 

Todoroki sniffled. “...Okay,” he agreed. His head felt too woozy to argue. 

“Okay,” Midoriya said, pleased. “Now scoot over, please. This chair is even worse than the plastic ones they have at the hospital.” 

Confused, Todoroki didn’t argue. He scooted over, and his whole heart swelled when he realized Midoriya was climbing into bed with him. Midoriya settled into the empty spot, wiggling a little like he sometimes did whenever he was getting comfortable. Todoroki gripped tightly at the blankets. 

“Is this okay?” Midoriya asked. 

Todoroki nodded. 

“Okay, then just… just sleep,” Midoriya decided. “You must be tired still. Recovery Girl kisses knock me out for hours,” he said. 

Todoroki frowned. In a moment of weakness, he asked, “If I fall asleep, will you still be here?” 

Midoriya nestled under the sheets, his warm body pressed against Todoroki’s cool side. “Of course,” Midoriya promised. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

+1

The next morning, Todoroki was feeling a lot better: a little less tired and a lot less emotional. After receiving a clean bill of health from Recovery Girl, he headed back to the dorms with Midoriya. It was their day off, and Todoroki was looking forward to eating the stack of pancakes Sato had promised Todoroki in their group message. 

Everyone had been worried, and Midoriya had been reading him their classmates' messages all morning. 

“Hey, look who’s back!” Ashido chirped as Midoriya held the door open for Todoroki. His friends jumped up from their spots around the common room, rushing to greet him. 

“Todoroki, it’s good to see you!”
“Glad to have you back, man.”
“You really scared us!”
“I didn’t think your face would ever grow back!” 

Midoriya crackled with energy as he dove in between Todoroki and their crowding classmates. “Okay, okay, give him some space,” Midoriya said. 

Across the room, Bakugo and Kirishima hadn’t gotten up from their seats, a game of cards sprawled out between them. However, Kirishima leaned over the back of the couch, grinning brightly. “Hey, Todoroki!” he said with a wave. “Good to see you’re feeling better!”

“Thank you,” Todoroki responded. 

Kirishima flashed him another smile. “You and Bakugo really did a number on each other. I’m glad you’re both okay!” he said genuinely. 

Todoroki hummed in appreciation. 

Midoriya, however, did not look pleased. 

“A number on each other?” Midoriya asked, his eyebrows crinkled together. “Ka-chan nearly blew Todoroki’s ear off.” 

Kirishima mirrored Midoriya’s expression. “I mean...Bakugo had to see Recovery Girl, too. And this isn’t the first time these two have gotten carried away.” 

“There are different levels of getting carried away,” Midoriya said. “Todoroki didn’t almost permanently damage one of Ka-chan’s senses.” 

“Well, what do you call starting an unnecessary screaming match during a thunderstorm on top of a mountain, then?” Kirishima asked. 

Everyone’s eyes were bouncing back and forth between Kirishima and Midoriya like a ping pong match. Todoroki tried to reach out and take Midoriya’s hand, alarmed by how angry he was getting. But Midoriya took a step towards Kirishima before he could. 

Bakugo stood up by Kirishima’s side, protective.

“Sometimes raising your voice is necessary! Especially when someone refuses to listen!” Midoriya said. 

“Dude! You always blame everything on Bakugo,” Kirishima argued. “You do realize that 90% of the time, Todoroki is the one who starts arguments out of nowhere right? I can count on one hand the number of times Bakugo purposefully antagonized someone this month. Todoroki is the one who’s always sulking, and snapping, and glaring!” 

“Ka-chan has been sulking, and snapping, and glaring since he was five!” 

“This has nothing to do with that!” 

“It has everything to do with that!” 

“Woah,” Ashido said quietly, somewhere near Todoroki’s left. “This doesn’t look good.” 

“Agreed,” Tokoyami said, ruffling his feathers. “This is going nowhere fast.” 

“Someone’s gonna have to break this up,” Jirou said. 

Todoroki stepped forward, but before he could interrupt the rapidly deteriorating conversation, Kirishima said something that made both Midoriya and Todoroki freeze in their tracks. “The way Todoroki treats Bakugo is mean. He’s a monster!” 

Todoroki’s blood ran cold. Subconsciously, he lifted his hand to feel his scar. He’d been called a monster before. 

And Midoriya knew it. 

“Hey,” Bakugo said, trying to steal Kirishima’s attention. He looked alarmed for some reason, like he knew this argument was going way too far. “Eji, you can’t-” 

Midoriya’s whole body hummed with barely contained power. He glowed green. On instinct, Kirishima’s skin visibly hardened. “You,” he said, interrupting Bakugo, his voice shaking with anger. “You don’t get to talk about him like that.” 

Kirishima held his ground, not a trace of fear on his face. “Well, Todoroki doesn’t get to talk to my boyfriend like that.” 

“Fuck!” Sero shouted, diving out of the way when Midoriya careened into Kirishima, knocking them both through a couch -stuffing and wood splintering everywhere- and leaving a massive dent in the drywall. 

“What do we do!” Ashido yelped. 

“Get Aizawa-sensei!” Jirou said. 

Midoriya had his hands knotted in Kirishima’s shirt. He looked like he was struggling to control his breathing. He reached his hand up to smack Kirishima in the face, but Kirishima overpowered him and flipped Midoriya onto his back, Midoriya’s head hitting the corner of the coffee table.

Midoriya kicked Kirishima in the center of his hardened stomach, but he still managed to throw him off. “Todoroki has a right to be mad!” Midoriya said, green static flickering over his features as he sprang after Kirishima. He aimed a punch that Kirishima dodged with a barrel roll to the side. 

“Maybe, but his screaming always makes everything worse!” Kirishima said, sweeping Midoriya’s legs out from under him. Midoriya landed neatly with a handspring. He ended up on the back of a chair before immediately diving back at Kirishima. 

Kirishima hardened to his Red Riot Unbreakable form. Midoriya ricocheted off the walls, bouncing into him to deliver blow after blow. Kirishima’s form held strong, but his feet sunk into the ground as Midoriya attacked him over and over. Kirishima landed a Red Gauntlet punch to Midoriya’s ribs, and Midoriya back flipped away, landing nimbly on his feet. 

He charged. 

Kirishima widened his stance, eyes narrowing terrifyingly. 

“Hey,” Todoroki said, catching the back of Midoriya’s collar. Whether Midoriya was startled or merely quick to submit to Todoroki’s voice, he stopped abruptly before Todoroki’s hold on his t-shirt could choke him. “This is crazy! What are you doing?” he asked. 

Bakugo moved to stand in front of Kirishima. “Oi. Stand down, hot stuff,” Bakugo said. “There’s no need to get so worked up.” 

Kirishima dropped his hardening but glared at Midoriya. 

Midoriya moved as if to lunge at him again, but Todoroki quickly got in his way. “Stop,” he said. “You don’t need to do that! I’m okay! Midoriya- Izuku,” Todoroki insisted, using Midoriya’s given name to catch his attention. Midoriya’s eyes flickered to meet his own. “I’m okay.” 

“It’s not okay,” Midoriya argued. “He doesn’t understand, you’re- you’re-” 

“He’s right, and even you know it,” Todoroki said. 

Midoriya’s eyes flickered back to Bakugo and Kirishima. Kirishima was still hardened defensively, and Bakugo kicked at the ground. “Listen,” he said gruffly. “You’re both right. Todoroki’s a little bitch, but he has plenty reason to be angry with me. Let’s just fuckin’ clean up before our lazy caterpillar teacher gets here and you two get in trouble for a fight we started.” 

Kirishima dropped his armor and looked around with wide eyes. The common room was destroyed. “Uh… I don’t think there’s any cleaning this up.” 

“There’s not.” 

Bakugo, Kirishima, Midoriya, and Todoroki eached jumped a foot in the air at the sound of their teacher. 

Aizawa stood in the doorway, an unimpressed look on his face as he took in the damage. He sighed in resignation. “But you will find a way,” he decided. “There is spackle and leftover carpet squares in the upstairs janitor’s closet.” 

Midoriya and Kirishima bowed deeply. “Yes, Sensei.” 

Aizawa’s eye twitched. “Not just you two,” he said. “All four of you. Detention. Everyday this week.” 

Bakugo kicked at the ground, and Todoroki bowed obediently. “Yes, Sensei,” he said. 

Aizawa huffed. “You kids… There are ways to deal with an argument other than beating the living hell out of each other. It’s common for heroes to settle things with their fists, but it’s better to start with a simple conversation,” he said. “I will ensure there is a guidance counselor to mediate a proper conversation between you during your punishment this week. Please be prepared to sort out whatever vulnerabilities have led you to this moment. I will not tolerate another fight between any of the four of you again, do you understand?” 

“Yes, Sensei,” they chorused. 

Aizawa sighed, as if bored. “I trust that neither of you are injured?” Aizawa asked, looking between Midoriya and Kirishima. They both shook their heads. Despite their quite literally earth-shaking display of power, neither had a scratch on them. “Good. Then that means you can begin cleaning immediately.” 

Midoriya bowed again. “Of course, Sensei.” 

“Yes, Sensei,” Kirishima parroted. 

“You two as well,” Aizawa told Bakugo and Todoroki. “I’m getting a juice pouch. These broken shards of wood should be gone by the time I’m back,” he said, gesturing to the practically exploded couch. 

Todoroki sighed and started to pick up the pieces. 

Midoriya threw a whole broken half of the couch over his shoulder. 

“We’re gonna grab some of the stuff from upstairs,” Kirishima said as Aizawa left. Midoriya was bundling the second half of the couch under one arm without using his quirk. “The spackle and stuff… Also, I’m sorry Midoriya and Todoroki. Aizawa is right. Talking is better than fighting - it was unmanly of me to get so angry, especially when Todoroki just got back from Recovery Girl.”

Midoriya managed a weak smile. “Ah, Kirishima, I don’t think it’s your fault. Unfortunately, this is how Bakugo and I handle most arguments. I think you just got caught up in the middle. Maybe Todoroki, too.” 

“Fucking idiots,” Bakugo muttered at the ground. 

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” Midoriya finished. 

Kirishima teared up. “Bro, no way.” 

“Ah, yes way!” Midoriya said. “I threw you into a wall!” 

“Yeah, but it was awesome.” 

Midoriya brightened at that. “No, what was awesome was you withstanding a full cowling headshot! Your training is really paying off! Do you think you could have achieved that kind of result without your work study? Or do you think it’s the quirk strengthening practice activities that Aizawa assigned? Because I can tell even looking at you that your hardening has really-” 

Todoroki nudged Midoriya gently. “Aizawa-sensei will be back soon.” 

“Oh!” Midoriya realized, taking a step towards the door. He didn’t seem weighed down at all by the broken furniture in his arms. “Well, I guess we’ll have more time to talk in detention… Let’s clean up!” 

Kirishima nodded. “Let’s clean up,” he agreed.

Midoriya walked out to the dumpster with Todoroki to throw out the broken pieces. He dusted off his hands, and Todoroki stared at his profile, confused. 

Midoriya had fought for him. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Todoroki said. Midoriya turned to look at him in confusion before his features evened out in understanding. 

“Ah. Now you know how I feel,” he teased. 

Todoroki didn’t laugh. 

Midoriya melted. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I know you said you were okay, but there are just some things that I can’t- I can’t hear someone else say about you,” he said. “Kirishima doesn’t know about, you know…, this,” he said, reaching out to delicately touch the risen skin on Todoroki’s left cheek. “But I do. And I know it’s sometimes the little things that make the biggest impact. And I just wanted to protect you.” 

“But that’s how I feel,” Todoroki said. “All of the time. About you.” 

Midoriya frowned. “Oh.” 

“I know how Kirishima feels. He sees me as the bully. I do snap at Bakugo unnecessarily. I know I do. But it’s because I- I mean… Kirishima… He doesn’t want to see the person he loves get hurt. And I…” This was so hard to say. “I feel the same way.” 

Midoriya arched an eyebrow in confusion. “The… the same-same?” he asked. 

Todoroki nodded. 

“But…” Midoriya looked hopelessly bewildered. “But Kirishima and Bakugo are dating.” 

Todoroki nodded again, eyes darting away to avoid eye contact. 

Midoriya took a tiny step forward. “And we’re not dating,” he pointed out. “We’re just… We’re just you and me.” 

Todoroki pressed his lips together, trying to steel himself. In a moment of bravery, he reached out to take one of Midoriya’s hands. “I was hoping… I was hoping that could change.” 

Midoriya had no business looking this cute when he was confused. “What?” he asked, seemingly in shock.

Todoroki gave his hand a squeeze and looked away. “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. You’re… the most important person in the world to me. It’s embarrassing; you’re the first person to ever care about me, and now here I am catching feelings… But I think… Even if I grew up in a perfect house, with perfect parents, and made friends, and always felt appreciated… Even if all that were true, I would still be in love with you,” Todoroki decided.

Now that he’d gotten started, he found that he couldn’t stop. 

“You’re so kind. And generous. You consider everyone’s feelings - in the whole room, in the whole world - all the time, including mine. You’re encouraging, and thoughtful, and you always know just what to say. You chase nightmares away; even in my dreams you’re there protecting me. I didn’t know people like you existed before we met; you’re everything a hero should be. For a long time, I didn’t know what type of pro I would be - Endeavor was always breathing down my neck, and sometimes it was All Might that seemed like a bright light at the end of the tunnel, but now…” 

Todoroki took a deep breath. 

“Now, I want to be a hero like you. A hero who cares.” 

Midoriya took a gasping breath. “Todoroki…” 

“You’re the most important person in the world to me,” he repeated, “And soon, you’ll be the most important person to a lot of people, to the whole universe. And it kills me that you don’t think more of yourself. You don’t like to talk about it, but I know that Bakugo has hurt you. I know what it’s like. I lived with… I… You called it physical and emotional abuse, and that’s who Bakugo was for you, and I can’t forgive him, I can’t forget now that he treats you better, I can’t see him care about you and not feel like it’s fake.

“You deserve the whole world, Midoriya, all I ever want to do is hold you. I just want to keep you safe, and see you happy, and sometimes I feel like you let yourself get hurt because you’ve been pushed down so many times it’s normal for you, and I- I-” 

Todoroki was terrified. “I love you. And I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“Oh my gosh,” Midoriya said. 

“I’m sorry,” Todoroki apologized. 

“No,” Midoriya said, hands raising to cup Todoroki’s face. His eyes shone, searching Todoroki’s expression for… for something. “No,” he breathed. “Todoroki… no, I-” He cut himself off with a surprised laugh. “I think that’s the most words I’ve ever heard you say at once. Maybe more than what you say in a whole day.” 

“I’m sorry,” Todoroki apologized again. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“That’s okay,” Midoriya promised. “Neither do I.” And with that, he leaned forward and brought Todoroki in for a kiss. Just like before, Todoroki felt like gravity was pulling them together, like their noses were meant to bump like this, like Midoriya’s hands were meant to hold him like this, like there were two powerful magnets pulling them closer and closer together.

As swiftly as Midoriya had initiated the kiss, he pulled away. 

“I think.. Todoroki-kun, I think I love you, too.” 

Stupidly, Todoroki’s brain stuttered to a stop. “I love you more,” he said, raising a hand to his lips in shock. 

Midoriya just laughed. 

“I love when you do that,” Todoroki said, and Midoriya laughed harder. 

“You’re so cute,” Midoriya promised, leaning forward to kiss his nose again. “And I appreciate you so much. Thank you for trying to take care of me, even if I don’t always need it. We’ll figure this out, okay? I’m going to be all right.” 

“Okay,” Todoroki agreed dumbly. 

Midoriya smiled. “Come here.” He pecked Todoroki’s nose, and Todoroki blinked once. 

“We’re kissing next to a dumpster,” he realized. 

Midoriya snorted. “And who’s fault is that?” 

Todoroki was about to answer, but Midoriya looped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him in for another kiss. They were supposed to be cleaning. Midoriya had just fought for him. They had detention all week with another couple, and they hadn’t even been on a first date. 

But all of those thoughts quieted as Midoriya pulled away from the short, chaste kiss and buried his face in Todoroki’s neck. Finally, Todoroki got to hold Midoriya the way he’d always wanted to. 

He pulled Midoriya in protectively. If it was up to him, he’d keep Midoriya in his arms forever and never let him go. 

---

In the security room, Nedzu drummed his fingers together as he watched the course of the day unfold. At the sight of his favorite student, Midoriya Izuku, kissing the nose of one Todoroki Shoto, he turned off the dormitory’s backdoor security camera.

Two high schooler’s first kiss was none of his business. 

But as he left the security suite, tail swishing side to side absently, he thought of the millions of possible futures that awaited his two young charges. He squeaked happily. To his own calculations, 95% of outcomes were positive: a remarkable statistic most married couples could never hope to achieve. 

And the power they’d wield as a superhero couple? 

Principal Nedzu grinned wickedly. 

Japan’s villain population wouldn’t know what hit them.