Chapter Text
For the first time in days, Todoroki Shouto is outside. The crisp fall wind whirls through the streets of Musutafu, where he’s lived since graduating U.A. and becoming a pro hero. If only he had known he’d hate it so much in just a few short years.
Everything was fine in the beginning. It was great. Perfect, even. He and Izuku had moved in together into their own little apartment they bought with their first official hero paycheck. It was small and cramped, and Todoroki often set off the smoke alarm on accident, but it was home. Even though he and Midoriya weren’t even there most of the time because of work, Todoroki knew their little apartment would always exist as a safe place for them to be themselves.
Over time, the seasons changed. And so did the relationship they shared. Midoriya was patching up Todoroki’s wounds late one night after a particularly rough raid, his scarred hands lingering on all the scratches on Todoroki’s skin.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
Izuku’s hands froze, a bandage half stuck to Todoroki’s chest. He delicately presses the adhesive to his skin then leans back and green eyes find Todoroki’s mismatched ones.
“Really?” Midoriya whispers, his voice wobbling. Todoroki worries he’s upset him before the greenette starts laughing and Shoto blanches. It’s such a pretty sound, echoing in their tiny apartment. A car honks on the street in the darkness beyond their open window.
Midoriya sighs, “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” And he grabs Todoroki’s chin lightly, mindful of his bruised jaw, and pulls them into an awkward kiss. It’s not perfect by any means, and another car on the street honks loudly before the two pull apart, Midoriya’s bubbly laughs filling the space between them.
Everything was perfect. But for Todoroki, nothing that good ever stays.
That was made evident three years later when he got a call one night while he was sleeping. Izuku had been admitted to the hospital, and the doctors didn’t think he was going to make it this time. Midoriya had been trying to save some children in downtown Musutafu during a severe attack while fending off multiple villains, and he had gotten impaled before continuing to rescue the kids. It seemed that that dire wound, in addition to the chronic injuries the greenette had received from All For One back in their last year at UA had finally done him in. It was something so characteristically Izuku that Shouto’s heart had lurched almost out of his chest before he threw on some clothes and was out the door. Todoroki didn’t even bother with a car, he just iced his way to the hospital, running as fast as he could.
He didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.
Midoriya Izuku was pronounced dead at 2:13 AM on July 16th. Pro hero Todoroki Shouto retired a week later at the ripe age of twenty-four.
Bakugou, with Kirishima’s help, had relentlessly chased down Izuku’s murderers until not a single one was left. No one at the hero commission had even attempted to oppose Bakugou, even though hero law stated that a hero couldn’t kill with intent of revenge, only to protect people. Todoroki had a feeling that for Izuku’s sake Bakugou wouldn’t have even cared if he ended up in jail for manslaughter, the blonde just wanted those villains dead. Todoroki was just glad that he hadn’t had to do it himself. After the final murderer was dead by Bakugo’s hands the blonde had called Todoroki to let him know, and Shouto hadn’t heard much from either him or his partner Kirishima since.
It’s been five months. Five months since Izuku... Todoroki still couldn’t bring himself to say it. He still wakes up occasionally, grasping at Midoriya’s side of the bed like his brain still hasn’t accepted that the love of his life is decomposing six feet underground in freezing winter dirt. Todoroki hates thinking about that. His Izuku, just a pile of cold bones. Lonely in his grave.
A particularly strong gust of November wind blows right through the split haired boy, almost knocking his thin frame to the ground. Is it so much to ask for delivery service? Apparently so, because Uraraka scolded him the last time she called and told him he needs to eat actual food and not that “prepackaged crap” because he’ll die by the time he’s forty. Todoroki didn’t have the heart to tell her that food just doesn’t taste like much anymore and he wouldn’t mind dying tomorrow, actually. Instead, he promised her he’d go grocery shopping today and she backed off. Honestly, without checkups from Uraraka and other more random ones from his mom, Fuyumi and Natsuo, Todoroki would have fallen off the deep end a long time ago.
And now he’s here, walking to the most out of the way grocery store he knows of in the hopes that he could be in and out as fast as he possible and no one would recognize him. Of course, his overall appearance was still the same, but there was little changes here and there. His hair was still the same color but it hung down past his collarbones because Izuku had liked it that way, and Todoroki’s mismatched eyes were surrounded by dark bruises from many a sleepless night. For this outing though, the first in many weeks, Todoroki had his hair covered by a black beanie and his eyes obscured by a pair prescription glasses. He’d stopped caring about his contacts months ago, opting instead to wear his old glasses from his third year or just not see at all.
As he walks through the sliding doors of the Mini-mart he’s hit with a welcoming blast of warm air and reaches into his jacket to find his half-assed grocery list. The paper crumples in his hand when he notices the Deku stationary it’s written on. The grocery store is not the place to have a breakdown. Todoroki takes a deep, calming breath and lets it out before heading to the produce section because if Uraraka visits one more time and sees that he doesn’t have any vegetables, frozen or otherwise, she’ll probably kick him into next week. The thought brings him out of his head enough for a small smile to form on his face.
This is okay, he can do this.
“Oh my god, Todoroki? Is that you?” A familiar voice calls across the store.
He cannot do this.
Ever so slowly, like a half- broken robot, Todoroki turns around and is met with Kirishima, the human embodiment of sunshine, and his partner Bakugou, the human embodiment of waking up on the wrong side of the bed every single day, twice a day.
“Uh, yeah. Unfortunately.” Todoroki tries to keep his face neutral so it doesn’t crumple. This was supposed to be an easy trip, but nothing is ever easy anymore. It feels like nothing will be easy ever again. The green stationary in his fist balls up a little more from how hard he’s gripping it.
“How are you doing, man!” Kirishima smiles, and Bakugou swiftly jabs him in the ribs.
“Don’t ask him that, dumbass. How the fuck do you think he’s doing?” The blonde growls and Kirishima winces, rubbing the back of his head.
“Shit, yeah. Sorry Todoroki. You don’t have to answer that. You need help shopping for stuff? We’re almost done.” Kirishima asks sheepishly. Todoroki sure hopes they’re almost done because the sheer amount of groceries in their shopping cart is horrific. Not even he and Izuku bought that many groceries before...
“Yeah, sure.” Todoroki says, if just to stop his brain from going down that path again, even though all paths lead to Izuku, always.
Kirishima and Bakugou pay for their groceries with a shiny golden credit card, and Todoroki helps them load all the bags into their jeep before they go back inside to get Todoroki’s meager living supplies. He ends up with more than he bargained for because Bakugou just throws stuff into the cart and Todoroki is sure most of it isn’t on his list, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t say much at all, actually, but Kirishima dutifully fills the silence between them with funny stories that make even Todoroki, in his endless spiral, bark out an occasional laugh.
They offer him a ride home, and who is Todoroki to refuse free transportation? So he says yes, even though he’s far too tired for any form of human interaction. Kirishima seems to pick up on that and the car is quiet on the way to his apartment, the only noise is the radio quietly chattering along about a big fight in a nearby city.
When they finally arrive, Kirishima and Bakugou invite themselves in, carrying bags of groceries and they wordlessly set them down one by one on Todoroki’s kitchen counter while the half and half boy puts all the frozen stuff in his refrigerator before it melts. It’s mindless activity, and it makes him feel at least a little better. Actually, this is the best he’s felt in a while when he thinks about it. Maybe Uraraka was right in saying he needs to get outside more.
“Okay, that’s the last of em.” Bakugou says gruffly as Kirishima sets down a case of water with a grunt.
“Thank you.” Todoroki says, and he means it. He tries to make it sound genuine, but feels like it falls flat.
“Of course, dude. Just let us know if there’s anything we can do, we’ll be here.” Kirishima smiles sadly at him, but without pity. It’s filled with more understanding than anything.
“Okay.” Todoroki turns back to the groceries and starts putting away the canned stuff as Kirishima and Bakugou take their leave, talking quietly between themselves. As soon as Todoroki hears the apartment door close after them he just kind of slumps to the floor, letting the can he was holding drop and roll along the fake tile until it hits the edge of a cabinet and stops, label up. Of course it had to be a can of fucking broccoli, what else? He feels his eyes start to burn, and not for the first time today hot tears trace down his face and drip into the collar of his turtleneck unpleasantly. He gives himself five minutes to just sit there before crawling across the floor, grabbing the can and standing up. Now that he’s all cried out, all he feels is numb and tired.
---
Brrring! Brrring!
Ugh. Who in the hell is facetiming him this late at night? Or, early in the morning. Todoroki sees it’s 3 AM from his phone screen before hitting accept call.
“Hey, dude!” It’s Kirishima, his cheery tone crackling through the speaker.
“What do you want, I was actually sleeping.” Todoroki groans, and flops back into his pillows. He distantly makes a mental note to wash them, he can’t remember the last time he did.
“Oh man, sorry. Um, I was just wondering if you want to come over? I’m making brownies. I know you haven’t been over in a while and it’s just me and Kat, so I just figured...”
“Kirishima, it’s three in the morning. Why are you making brownies? And why invite me, of all people? I’m no fun. Especially now.” It’s quiet for a second, and Todoroki glances at Kirishima on his phone. The redhead’s face is scrunched up with thought, probably trying to figure out a way to respond that wouldn’t sound mean.
Todoroki decides to put him out of his misery. “You know what, what the hell. I’ll be over in twenty.” He hits end call and chucks his phone off the bed, laying in the dark for just a minute before throwing on a sweater he probably hasn’t washed in weeks and a pair of sweats as he ties half his hair up to keep it out of his face. He’ll probably end up staying the night, or what’s left of it.
---
Almost exactly twenty minutes later Todoroki is standing outside of Kirishima and Bakugou’s townhouse in the dark and has to text Kirishima to let him in because the door is still locked. He hears heavy footsteps and the alarm system is disengaged before the door is opened and a familiar face with unstyled red hair pops out to greet him.
“Hey! Sorry, man. You know how paranoid Bakugou gets. Doors always have to be locked with him.” Kirishima ushers him inside and gives him a pair of slippers to wear. Todoroki honestly doesn’t remember Bakugou ever being paranoid, at least not when they all went to high school together, but he doesn’t comment on it.
The whole house smells like brownies, and even from the foyer Todoroki can hear Hozier’s soft voice echoing from the kitchen, probably from some hidden speaker. The few times Shouto had visited Bakugou and Kirishima’s house he’d always thought it was so comforting. Beige walls and dark leather furniture decorated most of the space, but there were more personal details too, like a few All Might and Crimson Riot posters in the living room and a stray weight or exercise ball always floating around somewhere. If he had to choose, Todoroki would always choose his and Midoriya’s little apartment, but now more than ever it was beginning to feel less cozy and more cold, whereas Bakugou and Kirishima’s place always felt homey.
Kirishima leads Todoroki through the living room to the kitchen, where Bakugou is leaning on the counter with a spatula in his mouth.
“Katsuki! Get that out of your mouth. I told you Todoroki was coming over, I’m sure he doesn’t want your spit in his brownie.” Kirishima slaps him on the back of the head and Bakugou grunts. The ash blonde takes the spatula from his mouth, spits on it, then shoves it back into the batter.
“Whoops.” Bakugou smirks, and Kirishima just squawks and slaps him harder.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Todoroki says, in shock at how normal they are. It feels nice to be around them as their casual bickering fills the space that Todoroki can’t.
“You sure? I can whip up another batch, Bakugou probably poisoned this one while I was letting you in.” Kirishima glares at Bakugou, who rolls his eyes.
“You wish, Shitty Hair.”
“I told you to stop calling me that. It’s not even true! You love my hair.” Kirishima protests and Bakugou barks out a laugh.
“Touche.”
“Kirishima, do these have weed in them?” Todoroki asks, because there’s no other explanation he can think of for baking at this ungodly hour in the night.
“Wh.. Todoroki, no. We get drug tested too much at work to do that.” Kirishima laughs, mixing the batter a little more.
“Unfortunately for us.” Bakugou grumbles, and Todoroki feels a pang of sympathy for the two heroes. Since Izuku... and since Todoroki quit, Bakugou and Kirishima were stuck in the top ten, fighting as an unbreakable team in place behind Lemillion, Suneater and Hawks. They’re downright amazing, but Shouto is sure they’re worked to the bone. Guilt seeps into his skin even though he knows Midoriya can’t help, and Shouto hasn’t been able to touch his own hero costume since the night Midoriya was in the hospital.
“Sorry.” He says, and Kirishima starts backtracking instantly when he sees the look on Todoroki’s face.
“No, no dude. We didn’t mean it like that.” The redhead says, and stops stirring the batter, choosing instead to turn to Todoroki and give him an awkward side hug. It feels foreign to Shoto after so many months of isolating himself from people and he steps back from it as soon as he can.
“But still..” Todoroki mumbles, and the kitchen is silent but for Hozier’s calm voice drifting around. Izuku always liked this kind of music.
---
Kirishima and Bakugou had offered to drive Todoroki home when the sun started to rise, but honestly the half and half boy didn’t want to go home just yet. Thinking of returning to his dark and silent apartment without Izuku there... well. Todoroki would much rather sleep on their couch. He had spent long enough alone, cramped up with the lingering memories of Izuku and to be honest he just wanted to be around somebody, he didn’t care who.
Before Bakugou retreated to his and Kirishima’s shared bedroom the blonde threw Todoroki some blankets and a pillow that must have been his because it smelled like the caramel of his sweat, and turned off the kitchen lights. There was an absurd amount of brownies cooling on their countertops, and between the coziness of their house and the sweet smells of chocolate and caramel and other humans, Todoroki drifted off to sleep.