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Shouto holds the single strand of hair between his left thumb and forefinger as he leans further forward, closer to the mirror to get a better look. Yup, there’s no mistaking it for a trick of the light now. He’d just found a strand of silver-white hair. On his left side.
He’s not sure how long he stands there staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The thought of drying off and getting ready for bed has long left his mind as it’s too clouded while contemplating the implications of this finding.
“Oi!” There’s an impatient bang on the door from his husband. “Stop hogging the fucking bathroom, some of us still haven’t even fucking brushed our goddamn teeth!”
“Sorry, I’m coming,” he responds, though making no move to further the progress of his nightly routine.
Katsuki seems to have sensed this and opens the door. He stands there in his pajama pants and old t-shirt and glares at Shouto through the reflection. Their eyes meet in the mirror and Katsuki’s eyes soften the tiniest bit.
“What’s wrong, why d’you look like someone just died?” He asks, features still maintaining their annoyance with hints of concern.
“I found a white hair,” Shouto answers plainly.
“So? We’re like half a decade from turning forty, so it shouldn’t be a fucking surprise.”
“Yes, I suppose.”
Katsuki approaches him from behind and brings his hands up, one gently holding the top of his head while the other takes hold of the hair still in Shouto’s grasp. He lets him, dropping the hand to his side. He watches the reflected look of concentration on his husband’s face as he delicately presses a thumb to the root of the hair and plucks the single white strand amongst the forest of red between his fingers in one swift motion. He then holds it out to Shouto as though presenting a tiny flower.
“Congrats. You’re fucking old,” he teases as Shouto takes the strand from him. He doesn’t say anything as he continues to stare at it.
“Hey,” Katsuki says much softly this time. “What’s up with you? It’s just a hair, Shou. I have like at least ten of ‘em now, it’s not a big deal.” He places a kiss on Shouto’s cheek. “You’re still as fucking hot as ever even if you are an old man now.” He brings his hands to Shouto’s towel-clad waist and slides them to the front to rest on his abdomen, placing another kiss to his shoulder before resting his chin on it.
“It’s not about getting old,” Shouto finally speaks up quietly. Katsuki watches him in the mirror and waits for him to continue. “It’s just that there was a time when–back before we started at UA, and a bit after that too– I’d always hoped that my whole head could look like this.”
“Like your mom?” Katsuki asks softly, understanding in his eyes. Shouto nods.
“I–I’d even considered getting Kirishima to help me dye the entire left side white at some point,” he chuckles, melancholic at the memory of the particularly bad day seventeen-year-old Shouto had had. “Or thought about just shaving it off altogether.” Katsuki’s eyes almost bug out at the admission but he doesn’t say anything. Just nuzzles Shouto’s neck, which gets him to turn. He places his lips to Katsuki’s forehead and they stay like that for a while.
“What should I do, Kat?” he asks, mouth still pressed against skin until Katsuki shifts to look up at him.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s–this won’t be the last one I find. There’s going to be more white hairs and I might not be all half n half anymore…”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
Is there? Shouto doesn’t know, that’s why he’s asking. It’s been a big part of his identity for the longest time; his husband’s many affectionate nicknames for him are even inspired by it. It’s been years since he’s resolved the complicated feelings he had regarding his dual quirk, has since then fully understood and accepted them as one whole. One whole Shouto with his own quirk, just as Izuku had yelled at him all those years ago. But something about this is bringing back a lot of his adolescent self’s mixed emotions to the surface and…he’s not entirely sure how to respond to them in the present.
“Listen,” Katsuki eventually says, stepping away from Shouto and stepping up next to him instead to face him, gently turning Shouto by the shoulders toward him as well. “If when that happens, you wanna just dye it red again, I’ll fucking help you. And if you decide to just let it all turn white, that’s okay too. But in the end, that doesn’t change anything. You’re still Todoroki fucking Shouto, my Halfie bastard of a husband, alright? It’s just hair, babe, it won’t change who you are, yeah?”
Somehow, those simple words suddenly drive out all the negative and uncertain emotions swirling in Shouto’s chest. It’s common sense, nothing extremely complicated or a crazy revelation. It’s just hair. He knows who he is no matter what color his damn hair is. And so does Katsuki.
He frames his husband’s face with his hands and pulls him in for a deep kiss, hoping that he’s able to fully convey how grateful he is for being in his life.
He pulls back. “Yeah. Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
Katsuki grins back. “I know.” He then proceeds to smack Shouto’s ass, “now get out and get fucking changed, I need to brush my teeth.”
Shouto gives him one last peck before walking back out into their bedroom to find his pajamas.
“Actually,” Shouto turns to see Katsuki’s head sticking out of the doorway, a toothbrush held between one side of his teeth, “keep the towel.”