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I.
His scent is the first thing to fade away.
When Shouto collapses on his dorm room futon exhausted in body and mind, he instantly curls up over the spot where Bakugou used to sleep the past weeks as Shouto kept his right hand channeling a soothing level of his ice over his injured shoulder all through the night. Whether it was useful, or they both just wanted the company - it was one of the many things that remained unsaid between them.
Bakugou’s scent lingers in the bedding. It’s slightly overpowering, sweet and musky - it’s his essence, his quirk. A scent Shouto used to associate with the thrill of a fight, but lately it has brought him deep comfort. He burrows his nose deep into the sheets trying to commit it to memory as he lets the familiar emptiness wash over him.
II.
The funeral is organized by UA. He looks serene in the white kimono, eyes closed peacefully. Even the make-up cannot fully cover the bruises on the right side of his face. Shouto’s fingers itch as he thinks about all the time he iced a busted lip or patched up a deeper cut. Death is beyond his modest first aid skills. Still he wishes he could have been there. He stays in the back of the room during the wake, letting his mind drift, as Principal Nezu and All Might offer warm words and Midoriya’s inconsolable sobs echo in the hall. None of it feels real.
III.
Bakugou’s room stays untouched for days. The little shrine is prepared after Shouto mentions the idea, after all, he’s the resident expert on living with the memories of the departed. The official class photo, where a tieless Bakugou wears his usual scowl, is put in the center. Midoriya places a tattered, bloody All Might card next to the little incense burner that Shouto lights with his fingers. A tearful Yaoyorozou brings a little Dynamight action figure in his winter suit. Jirou places his drumsticks on the altar. Shouto tries to think of an appropriate offering - finally settling on the mapo tofu recipe which he copies from his phone in careful calligraphy strokes.
Shouto keeps silent count as Bakugou’s presence slowly disappears from the common area: when his hot chili sauce runs out, it’s replaced by a milder version. His usual seat on the couches is left often for a while until Shinsou flops down on that exact spot. His favorite pan is ruined when someone leaves the stove on by accident. The scorch marks on the wall are painted over when the dorm gets renovated before third year. Shouto mourns each loss privately, lighting yet another incense in the quiet room.
V.
Graduation comes in a blink. Cherry blossoms whirl in the wind, an apt reminder of how fragile and transient good things are. They leave the dorms and it feels like a piece is cut out of Shouto’s heart. All the memories of rooftop talks, early morning runs, heated sparring sessions, and Bakugou’s presence on the couch, in the cafeteria, in the classroom, in Ground Beta stay here, while Shouto will move into an apartment of his own as he works his way up the pro hero ladder.
He helps Midoriya box up Bakugou’s things, running his fingertips over the well-worn fabric of assorted black T-shirts. They are as soft as in his memories. He’s picked up enough social graces by now to know that it would sound weird to ask for one. Midoriya - ever the mind-reader - turns to him and sniffles, “You can keep whatever you want, Todoroki-kun. I know you miss him too.”
Shouto looks at the All Might card and the little Dynamight action figure, but decides that Midoriya would probably appreciate those more. He chooses instead the black AJI FRY T-shirt and a poster from the wall. It’s a framed photograph of a mountaintop in the sunrise and reminds him of the one time he was invited to come along a hike.
Shouto’s new apartment is small and functional. He furnishes it much like his dorm room - all traditional style with tatami mats and sliding doors. At the end of the day, he rolls out his futon that no longer smells like Bakugou. The poster takes the central wall of his living room and he lights an incense in front of the picture Camie took on the day they got their hero license; All Might’s arms wrapped around Shouto and Bakugou, a proud gentle smile on his face. Bakugou tries and fails to hide his grin behind a scowl. He looks so strong and cocky, as if the world was his to take. (He saved it instead…)
VII.
Pro hero life is busy and Shouto works harder than most. He’s partnered with Midoriya and pushes himself every day to keep pace, to be there with a well-timed glacier or a fiery fist. When Midoriya was gone at the end of first year, they promised each other with Bakugou that they’d protect him. Shouto wants to keep his promise.
VIII.
It’s only a matter of months before Shouto finds himself at a gala dedicated to some hero award he won. He sits stiffly under the blinding spotlight as a tribute video is playing. His heart nearly stops when they include footage of their first interview together after they took down the Cider House Gang on their way home from Remedial class. Bakugou’s gravelly voice cussing in the background hits him square in the chest - the familiar dull pain turning to a stabbing sensation that makes it hard to breathe. As soon as he can get up, Shouto mutters his excuses and all but runs outside.
The rush of cold air brings no relief and he blindly wanders the streets until he runs into a kid. He’s not older than 6 and Shouto’s pro hero instincts kick in as he crouches down to make sure he’s ok. The child has crimson red eyes and he touches Shouto’s face.
“You are in pain”, he says and the world turns to black.
IX.
When he wakes up, he’s back in the dorm. Midoriya snores softly next to him covered by a blanket. The place is empty except for Bakugou who stands by the large glass windows; the morning sun paints a golden halo around his hair. Ethereal, like an angel.
Shouto knows this day. He’s been here before. It’s the morning after they brought Midoriya back. After a while, everyone went to bed, only him and Bakugou stayed to watch over Midoriya’s rest. Shouto drifted off after a while, only to wake up to the sight of Bakugou illuminated in that otherworldly light. He remembers how much he wanted to say something that day, to try to speak into existence the feelings threatening to burst his chest open, even if back then he was too inexperienced to identify them. He already knows how this day plays out. He says nothing and pretends to sleep, listening to the clatter of dishes as Bakugou prepares a lavish breakfast.
You can’t change the past.
Still, his feet move on their own, inching towards Bakugou until he’s so close he can feel his breaths on his skin and smell that familiar scent he thought he lost forever.
Bakugou turns and fixes him with blood-red eyes. “Why do you linger here, Halfie?”
Shouto’s throat feels suddenly too tight, but he still forces out the words, “You were my first love, I think.” Now that he’s spoken it out loud it feels solid, like an anchor.
“Yeah?” Bakugou seems not at all surprised and it’s a relief. Shouto wouldn’t want to burden him with his feelings. But Bakugou is smart and he’s probably already guessed anyway. “And?” he prods.
“It would feel wrong to let you go,” whispers Shouto, feeling suddenly childish. It’s easier to exist here in the familiar pain of loving someone who is not there..
“Tchk, you are such a dumbass sometimes,” Bakugou scoffs. He steps closer and puts his palm flat against Shouto’s chest, right over his heart. “As if I had anywhere else to go.”
His palm feels scorching and slightly damp against the wild staccato of Shouto’s heart. Bakugou leans closer and Shouto feels warm lips pressing against his, sweet like first love.
His arms wrap around Bakugou’s shoulder as he holds on tight, too scared to let go. “I miss you so much,” he chokes out.
Bakugou’s fingers curl into his hair, as he kisses away Shouto’s tears, “You don’t have to. Don’t you dare half-ass this, Shouto.”
Shouto has no idea what he means, but he nods anyway. He’ll always do his best for Bakugou.
X.
When Shouto wakes up the next day, he is back in his apartment on his futon, and wonders if it was all a dream. He’s wearing Bakugou’s T-shirt and Shouto can smell the lingering scent of fireworks and burnt sugar. So real. It feels like the fog is lifting from his head and his lips curl into a genuine smile. It’s a new day, and Shouto will live it fearlessly and to the full. He’s not scared of losing Bakugou because he’d promised he’ll stay even if Shouto moves forward. And Shouto trusts Bakugou’s truth.
Now that he dares to look, Shouto feels him everywhere. Every time he soars in the sky, Bakugou flies with him ready to catch him, like he did during their internship days. He’s there when Shouto chops scallions for his dinner meal, using the exact moves Bakugou taught him. His voice roars with the wind, it urges Shouto on, telling him to give his best and not to half-ass his life. The blond halo of his hair lights up every sunrise.
Bakugou’s presence was like a shooting star - brilliant and marvelous, exploding into a million pieces as he lit up the darkness. A spark he left behind found its home in Shouto’s heart.