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Izuku Midoriya didn't know what to expect from U. A Academy: he knew his expectations were high, as this has been his dream school ever since he had memory, the path of becoming the greatest hero, however A.U was indeed one the most famous hero-education schools in the country. He was barely able to sleep the night before thinking about the places and the people he would face: How will the teacher be? How will his classmates be?
He wasn’t expecting Todoroki Shouto.
Talking fairly, he wasn’t expecting most of the people he found when he entered the classroom (Bakugou, Iida and Uraraka being an exception) however, as days went by, he still couldn't decipher Todoroki Shouto: his cold and antisocial behavior sometimes scared Midoriya, along with the way in which he seemed to underestimate his classmates (which somehow make sense as he was one of the students who got into U.A solemnly by recommendations), the undescrete way in which he was, literary, split by the half, and his big scar, somehow creating asymmetry in the symmetry of Todoroki Shouto’s appearance. The pinkish brown scar which covered at least 20% of his face seemed to be one of his most distinctive features, and everyone, including some teachers and staff, even some bystanders who saw him walking home, wondered how did a young fine-looking boy like Todoroki Shouto ended up with such a disfigurement.
Was he in an accident? Maybe he burned himself while trying to control his fire quirk.
Was he in a fight? Maybe it was the outcome of being wound in the face.
It was a mystery for Midoriya and the rest of his classmates.
Others will have tried to lookout for way to hide the cicatrix, or get rid of it, as if somehow it spoiled his face but Todoroki Shouto’s persona never seemed to falter even when people stared at it, or at least, that's what Midoriya thought, as the seriousness of Shouto’s face was always present.
Yet, sometimes, if he looked and analyzed really hard, he could see a few cracks of vulnerability escape from the serious, strong and invincible facade Todoroki Shouto exposed. MIdoriya could see the loneliness.
And as he thought, Todoroki Shouto felt alone. But that was only the tip of the iceberg of Todoroki Shouto’s inner feelings.
_
As months passed by, Midoriya grew closer to Todoroki.
Their relationship reached its climax when Shouto revealed to Midoriya his family secrets: his carefully planned creation, his difficult (somehow abusive) family, along the origins of his scar and the expectations Endeavour had on him (which he refuses to accomplish). Experiences beyond that point seemed to make the boys open up more to each other: Izuku helping Shouto into accepting his hellfire quirk, which meant defeating the latter one, who encouraged him to get rid of his moral limitation on using his left side (the understatement that it was HIS quirk, not his father’s and that he would use it to become the greatest hero, not to accomplish the selfish will of his father), then a few days later, fighting together, along with Iida against Stain.
They grew closer, Shouto pulled back the cold barrier blocking Izuku’s warm personality, allowing them to open up to each other, to be friends, finally being able to stare into each other's eyes without a curtain of fear, nervousnessor rage. And Shouto thought it felt good, ignoring (And sometimes failing) the insistent urge to put his hand against the left side of his face. To cover up.
And Midoriya noticed this: the way in which Todoroki arranged his reddish locks so his hair covered up part of his face, the way in which he discretely turned his face so his scarred face was obscured. At first, Izuko though it was just Todoroki’s own mannerism, just as the way he rambled and Iida moved his hands while talking, but one day, he noticed, while they were around in a school activity, minding their own business as usual, when a third year girl, with a “Press” distinctive and huge camara approached them without advise and said “Say Cheese!”, flash shooting in less than a second right towards him, Shouto and Iida. He knew he had put on his usual awkward, anxious smile, and that Iida probably had his ridiculously serious face in mid scolding, while Shouto probably made a pose as he had sensed a rapid movement to his right side-
Midoriya looked to his side and saw Shouto’s dazed face, both of his hands covering his face, more specifically, the left side of his face, his scarred cheek and eye, along with a good part of his nose.
For a second, he seemed to realize his display of vulnerability, by showing the other around his instinct to shield the damaged part of his coutentace to a camera, and quickly changed his face and his pose, and, thus, his aura to his (un)natural seriousness.
None who had been witness to this told a word, or judged him, which somehow amazed Shouto, as people (or more precisely, himself) tended to see him as a tough guy with a horrible, frightening scar over his face.
However, he never allowed himself to open fully towards him, or Iida, or Yaoyorozu, or Tsu, or Uraraka, or anyone. He, deeply, knows they won't judge him, they dont critize, nor hurt him, like his father ~and mother~ had done in the past. They were his friends. But his scar had blinded more than his eye, because even when he was surrounded by his friends he still felt the hollow loneliness.
“You don't need them” Shouto constantly thought, however he knew it was because of his fear of being stabbed back, rejection, judging, just as he was afraid of his mother becoming demented once again at the sight of his face when visiting her at the hospital.
He was scared of people seeing “Todoroki” rather than “Shouto”, seeing “Endeavor” rather than “Shouto”, just as he himself was afraid of seeing “Enji” rather than “Shouto” in his dreams, in his mind and in his mirror, just as his mother did in the past, the disfiguration in his face as a reminder of this.
____________________
Moving to the dorms was somehow refreshing for Shouto Todoroki, mostly because it was a way out of his complicated (abusive) household, but it also meant sharing more space and time with his classmates, even the ones he disliked, like Mineta.
Moving to the dorms was surprisingly easy for Midoriya Izuku. After living in his somehow standard apartment along with his mother, having such a great amount of space for living felt nice, but even if he was surrounded by his dear friends, he still felt home sick sometimes, missing his mother hugs and affections and some of his privacity, but he was happy, living his dream of studying on U.A’s hero course.
Once, Todoroki was passing the common room, just chilling after showering, and heard the girls talking, and even if he didn't mean to eavesdrop, something caught his attention.
“-swear, my acne is giving me a hard time, even after it is gone, my face is full of spots and marks. It’s driving me crazy” Jirou said.
“You totally should try some base and concealer, Jirou, they cover up imperfections so your face looks smooth! People will never even notice the acne marks and scars and-”
They continued talking about skin care routines and which foods to avoid to have a clear skin, but for Shouto, their voices had faded, and very guilty thought, a guilty, intrusive desire filled his mind.
He continued to walk, to secluded in his room, to sleep, to think, to exist somehow peacely as a A.U student, but the thought of a sigh himself with a smooth, clear, unscarred complexion haunted him.
After he woke up, sweaty yet at the same time cold, he realized that even in his dreams he always had a scar on his face, with tired eyes and he wished he could understand himself. Ever since then accidentally eavesdropping the girls conversation after make up, the image of a Todoroki Shouto with a clear, milky skinned face, symmetrically colored, an image he had given up on seeing since his childhood. Was it really possible to cover up his imperfections with some makeup?
The following days, he was even more withdrawn, doubting for hours before googling “Covering facial scars with makeup” in the comfort of his bedroom, incognito mode on. The possibility of hiding the damage done to his face brought some sort of relieved warmth to his chest, as he watched cute girls cover little scars like cuts on their cheeks.
Therefore, the next time they were given free time out of the dorms, he hitted the pharmacy and bought a handful of beauty products: concealer, foundation, prime color, powder, brushes along with some candy bars and mints.
The anxiety was eating him alive, clawing at his insides as he entered his room, going directly into his bathroom to wash his face and use the image in the mirror to cover the disfigurement in his face.
He followed the steps he had researched on the internet the past days, using his fingers to spread the lotion-like products like the foundation and gave some final details with powder like products using the make-up brush he had been giving a discount on. It was harder than it looked on the internet videos and the result was obviously as neat as the pretty girls he had learned from, but after an hour and a half standing in front of the mirror while applying various cosmetics, there was a significant change.
Shouto took a few steps back, until his back met the tiled wall of his private bathroom, looking at his aspect, to met himself, and it felt as if the air was suctioned out of his lungs, the anxiety squeezing him tightly, embracing Shouto as he stared at the boy in the mirror; at himself.
It was hard to recognize this image as Todoroki Shouto, as his gruesome facial scar had become a distinguishing feature just as an eye colour or skin tone; an immutable characteristic of his appearance, yet he was seeing a clear, tan colored, non-scarred face.
Finally, just for a second, he thought he looked like a pretty, good, normal teenage boy.
Joy bloomed inside of him.
His mouth fell open as he admired the final result meticulously, his hand moving slowly to stroke his cheekbone and eyelid, careful not to damage his work. His breathing rhythm had been altered and he felt something in his chest let go of the constant pressure, only to be crushed again moments later as he got closer to the mirror and noticed the bumps and crater like texture of his skin, perceptible if looking closer and he realized that not even the several layers of make up he had applied on his face carefully were able hide marks of his old wound, his most noticeable characteristic, which not only defined the colour of the left side of his face but also how it felt to the touch: rough, and with holes similar to the ones he had seen on the pictures of the moon. It was probably impossible to hide the holes in the moon, just as it was impossible to hide Todoroki Shouto’s facial scar.
Soon, he started crying. He attempted to desperately dry his tears in order to prevent the make up to spill, but it was too late, the pink mark was visible again and his scarred side of his face looked similar to a book pages when someone spills water on them: even though it was impossible to comprehend the blurred ink-spilled words, one could certainly know something was written. He wasn’t Todoroki Shouto in the mirror, but he certainly wasn't the typical teenager he wanted to be. He was a watercolor spill in between these two conceptions of himself and it made his chest ache, feeling like a fool for even believing that makeup was enough to cover his mother’s sufferment, his father’s disappointment and his own loneliness and hatred.
He seated still against the cold wall, all his energy drained, breathing deeply feeling empty inside. Eventually his body stopped fighting gravity and he laid on his right side; his tears had stopped streaming and now he was enjoying the feeling of numbness, the muscles of his chest finally feeling some relief after what felt like days of anxiety squeezing it down. He wanted to become part of the tile, to never get up again.
“Todoroki-kun?” The voice coming from the door startled him, and it took him a minute in his lethargic and numb headspace to notice it was Midoriya, the closest thing he had for a friend, who was calling for him.
“Todoroki kun?”
“Yeah?” his voice sounded hoarse and rough., hardly a word and more like a deadly whisper, his inflamed throat betraying his intentions of sounding normal.
Midoriya invited himself to his room, worried by his response, walking beyond the half open bathroom door looking for Todoroki in the tatami covered room and finding nothing.
“Todoroki-kun? Where are you? Are you ok? Are you---”
“Don't come here” his strangled voice interrupted Midoriya before he could continue asking questions.
Midoriya's footsteps stopped and Todoroki could only listen to his partner's breath before he speaked again.
“Do you need help?”
Todoroki’s mind seemed to react to Midoriya’s question, evaluating his condition. Maybe he needs help getting up or to get some pain reliever for his chest and throat, maybe he needs help to hide his scar correctly or help feeling ok again.
Meanwhile, Midoriya was panicking inside, as he could only just hear his friend’s tired, sore voice asking to Not come there. Maybe he was really sick and needed urgent medical attention, as it may be just some cold making his friend's voice sound like he was drowning; his skin started to burn as he waited desperately for an answer from Todoroki.
Meanwhile, Todoroki was simply exhausted, his initial worries of him becoming crazy ~just like his mother~ long forgotten as he tries to ease the ache of his body with coldness, as if wanting to freeze up. His mouth moved by itself.
“Maybe, but I don't want to be seen like this,” Todoroki answers slowly.
Shiver from the cold room and concern ran through Midoriya’s spine.
“Hey, Todoroki, Everything will be alright! We are friends, remember? You can always count on me”
Todoroki emitted an “hmm” sound from the bathroom as Midoriya still respected his wish of not being seen.
“Hey, mmm, Todoroki, I'm really worried about you, and I uh, as a friend feel the need to help you, would you please, let me help you? or… Would you like me to call someone?, I'm sure there are-”
“You”
The answer shock Midoriya, as he thought that Todoroki wouldn’t trust him and he took a few seconds to react and answer him with a nervous tone”
“Sure! No problem, so.. are you feeling sick? or did you fall down? Do you need me to bring you something? or-”
“I need to wash my face” Todoroki answered from the floor with a monotonous voice “My body hurts” ~I'm tired~ he wished to say.
“Ok, no problem, hum, … Can I enter the bathroom now, Todoroki-kun?”
Some of his consciousness came back as a voice in the back of his head screaming for him to hide, and not allow his classmate, his rival in this deplorable, vulnerable state, his messed up makeup and the shame he felt towards his scar. But then again, he didn't trust his trembling legs and turning stomach to stand alone just now. Maybe… Maybe just this time will be ok to let Midoriya help him.
“Yes” He said, letting his eyes fall close.
He heard Midoriya coming in, mumbling something and felt the air shift as he kneeled beside him in the cramped bathroom, not really listening to what he was saying over the static in his mind.
“Ah! I see why … need to wash your face… should have asked… tips… Uraraka…”
When Midoriya had a good look on Todoroki makeup stained face, he fell silent, noticing Todoroki’s inflamed eyes and tear tracks, as Shouto blinked at him looking blue. Slowly, he took the his hand and guided it over his shoulders, shivering and the coldness it irradiated counting “1...2...3” before getting Todoroki to stand in his weak knees in order to help him wash his face, opening the faucet, handing him the soap and finally rubbing his clear face with a towel. It was kind of a painful process to watch, as the scar (that Midoriya knew Shouto was self conscious about and he presumed tried to hide with makeup) reapered again, outstanding on the white tiles and skin, face looking drained and exhausted.
Midoriya then proceeded to guide him to his futon in the floor, helping him under the covers and making sure he was cozy, asking somehow stupid questions out of nerviousness like “Are you already laying down?” or “Are you still cold?” That Todoroki decided not to answer while staring at him when he kneeled again next to the futon, making sure Todoroki looked comfortable. He excused himself for a moment, running to get some painkillers along with a bottle of water, leaving the door ajar, closing it after coming back to tend his friend, giving him medication and avoiding looking at his serious, yet gloomy puffy-eyed face as it hurt to see his friend right now, as he knew Todoroki didn't like showing an inch of vulnerability or weakness, hiding between his long time built strength and might. He stood up, trying to make some time for an excuse to get out of the room, to let Todoroki heal in the comforting loneliness, when he felt a tuck in his pants sleeve.
“You will never get to see me like this again, Midoriya” He said softly, yet determined, looking into his eyes. “never”.
The statement calmed Midoriya, seeing the usual spark in Todoroki’s eyes glim. The fact that Todoroki seemed to refuse to let his dread and anxiety override him again gave him the ability to breathe easily again.
Everyone seemed to be in a low moment of their life sometimes: He has seen Iida, both carried away by his anger towards Stain, going far enough as to “avenge” his brother, and an anxious, frustrated after classes Iida, sobbing while trying to comprehend why was following rules and routines and why have people been so rude and unheroic on his school week; He has heard All might, the trademark of hope, destroying his dreams of becoming a hero as he showed him the scars that ran through his frail normal body; Years earlier, he had seen himself, crying over a certain diagnosis which his dreams pended from, And here it was, once again, Todoroki, dry tears on his scarred face, the sense of injustice and revulsion towards his emotions and his family and his body and his face.
Yet, all of them have recovered and Todoroki is on the road, his will to continue living and achieve his dreams of being a hero his mother will be proud of.
“I'm counting on you,Todoroki” He answered, smiling, as the hero he intended to be. “However, I want you to know, I will be there to help you if need it again”
Todoroki “humn”and turned to his side, as if to sleep, and Izuku took this as his cue to leave.
_
In the start of second year, he needed Izuku again.
It would be a lie to say that his first breakdown was useless: He started thrusting more at his classmates, participating in conversations, even considering Bakugou his friend, even after he denied it. He stopped being a lonely wolf, spending most of his time with Midoriya, Iida, Asui and Uraraka. He still needed his space, often retreating to his room early in the night and sleeping in sometimes on weekends, even if he knows others are up to some activity from the morning. Yet, everyday he opened more to his classmates.
In his first weeks of second year, he went to visit his mother, who was soon to be discharged from the hospital so she could live with Natsuo and Fuyumi in the newly constructed house, where Enji Todoroki was banned from. He felt happy when talking to her, even if sometimes she seemed shy and closed, towards him, his younger son. However, he wished he hadn't visited that certain day.
He doesn't remember much, as shock overtook his body, but he does remember the despair and dread his mother face depicted when he saw him and how she began screaming and telling him to leave and-
Her doctor said she had relapsed, and it was terrifying watching his mother face again in his memories, as it looked similar to the his memories of her fighting with his father over his well being and the idea of him being similar to Endeavour made his gut twist and turn as he sat in a stiff white hospital chair, his hand gripping the flowers which were now frozen. Just then, as if world wanted to torture Shouto, the face of his father appered on the news channel that was being played at the tv in the corner of the waiting room.
His visión tunneled around it, so the only light was coming from the television screen, which projected the image of his father, Todoroki Enji, one of the humans he despised the most, yet had mixed feelings. The couple-of-months-old facial scar covered the left side of his face just like his), doing from his forehead, through his eyes, ending at his chin. He stood beside a woman with a microphone with a serious, rock like face, while answering a question about a previous villain he had captured.
His finger flew to his face, where the trademark scar was, while observing his father’s. It seemed as he grew older, he looked more alike: puberty was doing it’s Thing on him, making his face look sharper and rougher and his voice manlier, and somehow the stubble he sometimes had a hard time shaving looked like his father's facial flames. He never had a clear opinion on his father attire and his whole look, yet, looking at him right now and his memories he could only think adjectives like “Disgusting” and “Ugly”.
He exited the hospital, way earlier that he thought he would when he first entered, and walked down to the school dorms feeling like there was a storm in his ribcage, the pressure making it go from tightly squeezed to painfully open. Was he guilty of his mother's relapse? Or was it something else? he still, somehow, blamed himself for his mother's developed mental instability. He was one of the main protagonists of the event that bound her to a hospital, the reason why he wore a scar.
He arrived as the sun was going down, the sky turning into a pale shade of blue with some brushes of orange, that were left behind as he entered the Alliance.
He really didn't feel like facing anyone, just wanting to disappear completely from the world for a moment and come back somehow looking different.
So when he entered, he mumbled a low “I'm home” and waved when he heard some “Welcome back”, which, brough an small, tiny, little warmth to his cold chest and headed stairs to his room, entering his balcony.
In his loneliness, he let out a sigh, falling down, grabbing his head.
This again. The feeling of being hurt, but by who? by what? how? He had known his entire life that his family was not real, built in money and power. There was no real love. Not from his father. Maybe by his mother and barely from his sibling who in reality were just strangers to him.He was just a desired creation from his father, who was actually unhappy, and Shouto was happy about that.
He wanted his father to be as unhappy as he could yet, whenever he was praised by Enji Todoroki, a sort of relief traveled through his tense muscles. It wasn’t an event that happened often and he wanted himself to hate those words that his father had told him in the past. “Good work”, “Keep it up”, “Right” should be detestable words coming from his fathers mouth. But they weren't.
“Hey, Todoroki” Came along with a knock on his door.
“Yeah?” He answered, unmoving.
“Are you ok? You seemed pale back down.” Midoriya’s voice was muffled and he really felt like not giving a fuck about him, but then he felt guilty, as Izuku had been nothing but a real caring friend. Maybe Midoriya’s love and worry was real, unlike his parents. so when he heard the door being open, he stared into the dark sky waiting for Midoriya to sit next to him, like he always did when they talked in his room, a sacred space where only him has been allowed to enter.
“Did something happen?” Midoriya asked when sitting down, looking at him.
“Nothing new” said Todoroki in sigh, sadder than intended. “I freaked out my mom again, Doctor told me she relapsed”
“Oh” Midoriya was quiet for a moment, looking up to the sky as well. “I hope she get better soon”
An idea raced through his head.
“Hey, Midoriya, you will answer sincerely to any question I ask you, right?” He asked as he turned to face the green curls and the freckles blushed by the cold night.
“Of course, Todoroki, when have I lied to you?”
“Do you think I'm like my father?” He asked, looking down to his hands.
“... What do you exactly mean,... Like your father…?” Midoriya's eyes weighted in his head
He closed his eyes and grabbed the hair over his scar tightly. Should he tell Midoriya about his feelings? He had already told him the reality of his family and Midoriya had already seen him at his lowest.
This inside moved in desire. Desire for the attention from his family, from Midoriya, from anyone. The desire to stop feeling alone with his thoughts and feelings he had been tough to swallow silently. And he realized; this must be exactly what his father wanted from him, to feel ashamed enough to never share the truth of his actions, inspiring him to become a hero like him, so he could finally be Todoroki's name pride in order to fix his broken family. Or maybe not, but in that moment, he really couldn't care less about the reasons.
He lowered his hands from his face and looked at his friend's eyes, determined to finally stop being his father's boy by telling the truth about his feelings to Midoriya once again.
“Everyday, I look in the mirror, and I look just like him, and I hate it. I feel repugnant by the sight of him in myself, Midoriya. And now that bastards got a scar, just like me, even on the same side. CAn you believe it? I'm scared to become him. And everyday, I see this scar and sometimes I just want to disappear. It's proof that my mother hates me, my mother hates me because I'm my father's son, and the literal half of me looks exactly like him. Everyone expects me to be happy and proud my father is the number one hero, but I am not. I just feel hate and anger-” He paused to take some ragged breaths. “How could I be proud of the man who killed my brother, and abused my mother and neglected his children? He is the reason my mother cant fucking see me in the face! He is the reason my sister feels guilty all the time and the reason my siblings are like strangers to me. And yet, look at me, following his steps, studying at this school to become a hero… I feel like everyday, I'm just becoming him…” He couldn’t point in which part of his speech he had begun crying but he couldn't stop and the familiar ache in his chest. “... And I just want to be myself, and not my father’s son, and I want my mother to love me again.”
He fell silent and looked at Midoriya's worried face. Slowly, Midoriya took his arm and looked at him somehow kindly.
Midoriya thought for a minute on what Todoroki needed to hear, feeling somehow lost. WHat could he tell him? that everything will be alright and the lack of love was ok? Is that what he needed to hear? Was that even true? Even having an absent father and no friends, Izuku always had the unconditional love from his mother. He certainly didn't know what Todoroki was feeling, however it seemed painful
“I think you just can't stop being similar to your father, Todoroki, people look like their parents and that's just nature, however, not trying to judge you, of course! I think that more than you wanting your mother and your siblings to be closer and not being like your father, what you really want is to love yourself, Todoroki-kun.”
“Love myself?” He answered, eyes spilling. Loving oneself? Shouto Todoroki was Shouto Todoroki, a broken boy who was unloved even by his mother, or at least that's what h e thought. With his eyes still spilling, he thought of what will take him to stop feeling disgust towards himself.
“I-... I think you're amazing Todoroki-kun, you’re not like your father and I'm certainly sure you will turn out a hero even better than him” Midoriya catches his attention. “But I think until you yourself recognize that you are amazing, and good and kind, you will be hurting inside”
Shouto meditated Midoriya’s words silently, and it did help with having something to focus on, as his crying stopped. He just silently nodded as Midoriya kept speaking.
“Looking like your father, or your mother does not make you like them, you are your own person, your own soul, your own actions and choices. Having red hair and blue eyes does not make you an abuser like your father-”
Todoroki interrupted him.
“Today, at the hospital, my mom relapsed when she saw me.... And I think it’s because my left side looks like him… Or maybe she remembered when she burned my face, which was also caused by me, everyday looking just like my father”
Midoriya thought for a minute what to tell him after that confession, as he was really worried about Todoroki, how used to talk with confidence and determination, looked gloomy while tears dried in his cheeks; this was the second time he had seen him this way, with a blank, and yet sad, expression, pale face tinted with red blotches. Rage spiked in his chest, coming in waves in a sour sea. His fathers past actions still had an effect on him, as it should be expected, so Todoroki just couldn't forgive him just yet, no matter how hard Todoroki Enji tried to redeem himself
.
“None of this is Todoroki’s fault” Midoriya thought as the anger rises again. Yet here he is, feeling lonely and guilty about his family”. Midoriya knew that the absence of a parent is harsh, as he hardly ever sees his father, but he can't imagine none of his family being beside him, let alone abusing him. “Todoroki must feel lonely,” he said to himself. After a moment of thinking, he took a deep breath and held Todorokis arm, meeting his gaze as he said:
“You’re my friend, Todoroki, and I'm sorry that you were abused by your father , and I'm sorry that your mother has mental issues and I'm so sorry that you don't love yourself, I know I can't fix it, but no matter what, I want to remind you that you’re not weak and that i'll stand beside you. I won't leave you alone, no matter how much you need to cry. I promise I will stay with you until you feel better.”
Todorokis face changed when he finished talking, lighting up his sad stare before the water gates opened again, and started crying loudly again which made Midoriya's anxiety and rage spike, yet, as he just promised, he stayed and tried to be strong for Midoriya.
Todoroki was comforted by his presence and at some point, less teary eyed, he talked again.
“Thanks, Midoriya”