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The day started like all crazy events do.
A normal day.
It was Monday.
Shouto Todoroki woke up at his usual time, his morning routine unfolding with quiet precision. He dressed neatly, half-aware of the lingering disappointment from failing the provisional license exam. Classes passed by—lectures, notes, and the low murmurs of his classmates chatting around him. Now, as the final bell rang, he prepared to head to the remedial course he’d been assigned to. Together with—
“What the hell is taking you so long, you icy-hot bastard?!”
Katsuki Bakugou stood leaning against the classroom door, arms crossed, scowl already carved deep into his face. Todoroki found himself briefly wondering, not for the first time, how Bakugou’s skin remained so smooth and flawless despite the constant tension of his expressions.
“Sorry for taking up your time.” Midoriya shifts his gaze nervously between them, body twitching as if ready to bolt. “Kacchan’s going to kill us at any moment, so we can just continue our conversation later. Bye, Todoroki!”
“Goodbye, Midoriya.”
Todoroki adjusted the strap of his bag, slipping it over his head as Midoriya hurried toward the door.
“Bye, Kacchan!”
“Go away, nerd!”
The exchange was as familiar as it was loud.
“Bakugou, let’s go,” Todoroki said, stepping into the hallway. He glanced sideways at his companion, noting the sharp intensity in those ruby eyes—bright with irritation, yet strangely alluring.
He continued walking, unbothered by the inevitable shout that followed.
“Walk behind me, damn it!”
🌧️
Todoroki didn’t know what to expect from today’s remedial course assignment, so he was wandering his eyes around the location they arrived at.
The venue is a small, lively corner of Musutafu, decorated with bright streamers and numerous colorful booths. Children ran between tables, laughter carrying easily through the warm afternoon air. It felt less like a training session and more like a family festival.
Todoroki paused, taking it in.
“…It’s very colorful.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Bakugou snapped beside him, already scowling like the decorations personally offended him. “What kind of hero training is this? Are we babysitting? AGAIN?”
Before Todoroki could respond, a loud, booming voice cut through the noise.
“AH! TODOROKI! BAKUGOU!”
They both turned as Inasa Yoarashi came barreling toward them, practically radiating the same energy as a sugar-induced child would have.
“I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TWO!” Yoarashi beamed, grabbing Todoroki’s hands with zero hesitation. “LET US WORK HARD TOGETHER FOR THE SAKE OF THE CHILDREN!”
Bakugou’s eye twitched. “Why are you yelling?! You’re going to bust our eardrums, airhead!”
Another figure approached, much more relaxed.
Camie Utsushimi gave them a lazy wave. “He totes needs to pipe down once in a while. This kinda loud environment is so not gucci, y’know?”
“Yoarashi is always loud,” Todoroki said plainly.
“HEY!” Inasa protested, though he didn’t deny it.
Bakugou scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Tch. Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”
They were quickly briefed and the afternoon passed in a strange blur of activities. Todoroki helped kids shape small ice sculptures, carefully controlling the temperature so no one got hurt. Bakugou, after much resistance, ended up showing controlled sparks—tiny, harmless pops that made the children cheer.
At one point, a girl tugged on Bakugou’s sleeve.
“You’re really cool,” she said.
Bakugou blinked.
“…Yeah,” he muttered. “I know.”
Todoroki noticed the slight softening in his posture, eyes keeping that proud and determined glint. The corner of Todoroki’s lips turned up and he was surprised by the amused huff that escaped.
Bakugou’s gaze turned sharp, whipping his head to spout an insult when he suddenly stiffened, eyes slightly widening, staring at Todoroki’s face.
Todoroki tilts his head, confused on what garnered that type of reaction, and got more confused on the slight jolt that ran through Bakugou before he whips his head away from Todoroki’s line of sight.
“Shut up,” Bakugou barked out.
“I didn’t say anything…?”
“Shut up.”
Eventually, as the sun dipped lower, the event wrapped up. The children waved their goodbyes, some even hugging them before leaving. The noise quieted, replaced by the softer sounds of cleanup.
“WE DID WELL!” Inasa proudly declared.
“Yeah,” Todoroki said.
“Annoying loudmouth,” Bakugou added.
Camie stretched. “I’m superb tired, tho.”
They began heading out, the group naturally splitting as they prepared to return to their respective schools.
It happened quickly.
A girl—probably around 6 years old—ran past and bumped straight into Todoroki.
“Oh—! I’m so sorry!” she said, stumbling back.
Todoroki caught her arm and steadied her easily. “It’s fine.”
For a brief moment, her eyes flickered—blue, unnaturally bright.
Todoroki noticed immediately.
“Your eyes,” he said calmly. “What was that?”
The girl froze.
“I—I don’t know!” she blurted, panic rising fast. “I didn’t do anything—I don’t know what that was—!”
Todoroki crouched down slightly to meet her at eye level. “It’s alright,” he said, voice even and grounding. “You didn’t hurt me.”
“But—what if I did? What if something happens later—?”
“Probably,” Todoroki replied. “But if something does, we can handle it.”
She hesitated, still shaken.
“Do your parents know about this?” he asked.
She shook her head, “I didn’t manifest my quirk until now.”
“…I see.”
Todoroki stood and quietly approached Present Mic, explaining the situation in a low voice. Present Mic listened carefully, then nodded.
They spoke to the girl’s parents shortly after, arranging for them to visit U.A. the next day.
Nothing appeared wrong.
Still, Todoroki made a mental note.
- - - - - - -
By the time they returned to the U.A. dorms, the sky had darkened.
Todoroki felt…off.
Not pain exactly. Just…heavy.
“Oi.”
Bakugou’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“The hell is up with you?”
“I’m… fine.”
Todoroki blinked slowly. His vision felt slightly unfocused.
“You look like shit.”
“That’s rude.”
Bakugou clicked his tongue, stepping closer. “You’re walking weird.”
“I’m walking normally.”
“You’re not.”
Todoroki didn’t argue further. It felt like too much effort.
They reached the dorm entrance.
“I’ll go to my room,” Todoroki said.
“Don’t care.”
Todoroki turned, heading towards the elevator. Then he stumbled, just slightly.
But Bakugou caught it immediately.
“The hell was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Tch.”
Bakugou grabbed his arm—not rough, but firm enough to steady him. Todoroki’s gaze landed on where their skin made contact and moved to catch Bakugou’s squinted eyes.
“What?” he said with his hackles raised. “You’re going to your room, aren’t you? I’m making sure you don’t pass out on the way like an idiot.”
“That’s not really necessary.”
“Shut up.”
They rode the elevator in silence for a moment.
“You should rest already,” Todoroki spoke up.
Bakugou scoffed. “I’ll go after I make sure you don’t die, Mr. Aizawa would hang me upside down if I did.”
“I’m not dying.”
“Yeah? You don’t look convincing.”
Todoroki glanced at him again, Bakugou’s usual sharp expression was still there, but there was something else underneath. Something he can’t read nor pinpoint.
“…You’re being oddly nice,” Todoroki said.
“Yeah, and you’re not only half-and-half, but also half-dead apparently.”
“I’m not.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
They reached Todoroki’s door.
The owner of the room paused, hand on the handle.
“…Thank you,” he said quietly.
Bakugou looked away immediately. “Don’t make it weird.”
Todoroki turned, trying to figure out if the tint he’s seeing on Bakugou’s side profile was real or caused by a trick of the light and his sudden dizziness. “I’m not.”
“You are.”
“…Goodnight, Bakugou.”
“Tch. Yeah. Whatever.”
Todoroki stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
Bakugou lingered for a second longer than necessary before turning away.
“…Damn extra,” he muttered under his breath.
🌧️
Morning at U.A. came quieter than usual for Todoroki. He woke with none of the same strange heaviness from the night before—no pain, no fatigue, no faint pressure behind his eyes. It sat in the back of his mind as he got dressed and followed the message he’d received: report to the infirmary.
Aizawa was already inside when Todoroki arrived, leaning against the wall with his usual tired posture, capture weapon draped loosely around his shoulders. Present Mic stood nearby, noticeably more alert, though his usual volume was dialed down out of respect for the setting.
“You made it,” Present Mic said, offering a small grin.
Todoroki nodded. “Yes.”
Aizawa’s gaze flicked over him, sharp despite the half-lidded eyes. “Any symptoms?”
“Fatigue. But I only felt it last night,” Todoroki answered after a moment. “Nothing else right now, it’s gone.”
Aizawa replied with a low hum.
Before anything else could be said, a small voice called from across the room.
“Come here, boy.”
Recovery Girl stood beside one of the beds, a hand on her cane, her expression both stern and welcoming. Todoroki approached, sitting where she directed.
“We already got the results of what quirk the little girl has, but I’ll check first if there are any lingering side-effects, so stay still.”
Her examination was quick but thorough—light pressed against his eyes, a careful check of his pulse, a hand briefly resting against his forehead. Todoroki stayed still through all of it, watching quietly.
“Well—” she said at last, straightening, “—I see no abnormalities within the student, so we can set aside our worries on that.”
Present Mic leaned forward slightly. “So? What are we dealing with?”
Recovery Girl glanced at Todoroki, then at the teachers, as if deciding how to phrase it.
“The Quirk that girl triggered is an emitter called Drenched Attraction—a minor, temporary effect with no lasting harm.”
The name hung in the air for a second. Todoroki processed it without reacting outwardly, though the words didn’t immediately connect to anything on what the quirk could be.
“Her parents also both have emitter quirks. The mom can control water but only from rainfall, and the dad can sense if people are romantically interested in each other,” Recovery Girl continued. “But I guess biology decided to give their kid a quirk with effects that are rather…peculiar.”
Aizawa raised a brow. “Define peculiar.”
Recovery Girl pointed her cane lightly at Todoroki. “For the next week, if he finds himself attracted to someone—most likely romantically—a small rain cloud will form above that person’s head.”
Silence followed.
Present Mic blinked. “A…rain cloud?”
“Yes—” she said, completely serious, “—and the intensity of the rain depends on how strong his feelings are at that moment.”
Todoroki cocked his head to the side, “…So it makes a rain cloud…on who I’m… attracted to…”
“Exactly,” Recovery Girl replied, slightly amused. “It only activates when you can see the person in question. No line of sight, no effect.”
Aizawa exhaled slowly, already looking mildly exasperated. “After the duration?”
“After that, it disappears on its own.”
Todoroki lowered his gaze slightly, absorbing the information. It wasn’t dangerous. It didn’t affect his physical condition beyond the initial fatigue. But it really was peculiar.
Todoroki nodded faintly. “Understood.”
Aizawa pushed off the wall. “You’ll continue classes. Just be alert.”
“I will.”
Present Mic grinned again, a bit more amused now. “Man, that’s one way to figure things out if you like someone, huh?”
Todoroki stared.
Recovery Girl gave him one last look, softer this time. “You’ll be fine, now run along, you still have classes to attend.”
“Thank you,” Todoroki responded. He moved to stand up, adjusting his uniform slightly, then bowed before leaving the infirmary.
- - - - - - -
Todoroki started heading back to his classroom after Recovery Girl gave him the details about the...odd quirk. He figured it wouldn't be a hassle considering that he doesn't particularly have an interest in anyone, so it should be fine.
He slid open the door. The chatter of his classmates filled the room. Then, his gaze landed on Bakugou.
The blond was scowling as always, hair caught the afternoon sunlight in sharp gold streaks. His jaw was clenched, sharp lines etched into his face. Todoroki’s chest gave a singular thud.
And then—
Water crashed down in a sudden downpour, soaking Bakugou in seconds.
“WHAT THE HELL?!” Bakugou roared, shooting up from his seat as rain poured from the little cloud in a perfect circle above him. His uniform drenched and everything else near him. Everyone else screamed and scrambled away for cover.
“WHAT’S GOING ON?!” Ashido yelled, dodging the spray. Kaminari pointed like an idiot. “Bro, it’s SUNNY outside! How are you getting rained indoors?!”
“I DON’T KNOW, DUNCE FACE!” Bakugou barked back, slamming his fists on the desk and sending sparks flying—though it was weak due to the rain.
Meanwhile, Todoroki stood near the door, frozen in his tracks, dumbfounded by the chaos that erupted in the classroom.
But... Recovery girl said the quirk only affects those he finds—
Todoroki's eyes roamed around the water clinging on Bakugou’s hair, each strand glistened under the fluorescent lights. Droplets traced down his jawline, highlighting every sharp angle of his face until he looked carved from marble. Even furious and soaked, he was...
Oh.
Bakugou’s eyes landed on Todoroki’s, fierce and the kind that feels almost too bright to look at directly, yet impossible to ignore.
...pretty.
Oh.
The moment Todoroki looked away, the rain cloud slowly faded out.
Droplets pooled on the floor, settling near Bakugou’s shoes—the evidence of something that absolutely should not have happened inside a classroom.
“…Did anyone else see that?” Kaminari’s eyes squint as his head rapidly pivots around the room to see his classmates’ reactions.
“Yes.” Jirou replied immediately.
Todoroki turned to the direction of his seat, walking with calm, measured steps that looked normal. Although, his thoughts were anything but. He reached his seat and sat down, posture straight, hands resting lightly on the desk like nothing had happened.
Across from him, Bakugou was still scowling, damp in a way that made his irritation visibly sharper. Water clung to the edges of his hair, to the fabric of his uniform, to the faint steam rising from his skin as his quirk fought it off.
“I thought I was hallucinating,” Kirishima added, staring at Bakugou like he’d just witnessed a miracle. “Bro, you were getting rained on.”
“I WASN’T DOING ANYTHING!” Bakugou snarled, still drenched. “WHY WOULD I MAKE IT RAIN ON MYSELF?!”
“That’s actually a great question,” Kaminari answered.
“Shut up, Dunceface.”
Behind them, Sero leaned over to Ashido. “Do you think this is like…karma?”
“For what?” Mina responded back.
“For being—” Sero gestured vaguely, “—like that.”
“…Fair,” Mina nodded.
“FUCK YOU BOTH.”
Meanwhile—internally—Todoroki was heavily panicking.
It rained on Bakugou.
Which means—
Todoroki’s eyes widened a millimeter in shock.
“WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO GOT WET?!” he hears Bakugou still screaming his head off.
“Maybe you offended the sky,” Kaminari offered.
“I wouldn’t put that past him honestly,” Sero added.
“I’LL OFFEND YOU—”
The door slid open and Aizawa walked in, already looking like he regretted waking up and his choice of becoming a teacher. He took one look at the wet floor, the visibly wet Bakugou, and the collective confusion—
—and then his eyes landed on Todoroki.
There was a moment.
A long, long moment.
Aizawa sighed like a man whose life expectancy just dropped twenty years.
“…Bakugou. Go change.”
“The hell?!” Bakugou snapped. “Are you not going to ask what happened to me?!”
“No.”
“WHAT—”
“Out.”
Bakugou glared at his teacher before he clicked his tongue and stormed out, muttering incomprehensible words—most likely curse words—to himself.
Aizawa rubbed his face, letting out one last tired sigh. “So let’s start talking about the agenda for today.”
Ashido raised her hand. “Are we not gonna talk about the indoor rain—”
“No.”
“But—”
“Do I need to repeat myself?”
“…No, sir.”
Todoroki stared straight ahead.
Do not look at Bakugou when he comes back.
Because if he did, it would rain.
And that implied—
When Bakugou came back, slightly less wet but significantly more irritated, Todoroki did not look.
- - - - - - -
The lunch bell rang.
Todoroki stood up, grabbed his bag, and left.
Midoriya blinked. “…Uh?”
Uraraka tilted her head. “That was weird.”
Asui nodded. “Very weird, kero.”
“He was probably starving. Let us hurry in catching up with him,” Iida added.
Bakugou frowned, keeping an eye on the four who just left.
🌧️
The cafeteria at U.A. was usually loud in a comfortable, predictable way with trays clattering, voices overlapping, someone always laughing too loudly at something that probably wasn’t that funny. It was the kind of noise that faded into the background after a while.
Todoroki, Midoriya, Uraraka, Asui, and Iida—proudly dubbed as Dekusquad—sat on the same table, the four of them eating yet not subtly glancing at their one friend who seems to be in his own head.
Whereas the group would normally settle into an easy rhythm together, where conversations usually flowed naturally, bouncing from topic to topic with little effort.
Now, it was quiet.
Todoroki was slurping up his cold soba as he stared at nothing in particular, his thoughts refusing to settle.
There was a raincloud that manifested.
Above Bakugou.
Todoroki pressed his chopsticks lightly against his bowl.
Across from him, Midoriya had been observing Todoroki for the past few minutes, his brows drawn together in concern. He wasn’t the only one—Uraraka had slowed her eating, Iida had gone noticeably stiff with attention, and Asui’s eyes remained calmly observant.
“Todoroki?” Midoriya called out gently.
The aforementioned boy looked up.
Midoriya’s expression softened slightly in relief at the response. “Are you okay? You’ve been kind of…out of it since earlier.”
Uraraka nodded quickly. “Yeah, you even walked out of class so suddenly without even looking at us!”
Iida adjusted his glasses with a sharp motion. “Your behavior has been highly unusual! It is only natural that we are concerned!”
“Something’s bothering you, right?” Asui added, her tone even but direct. “You can tell us, kero.”
Todoroki paused.
He still wasn’t used to sharing his thoughts, haunted by a constant fear of being met with shame and disdain. But, as concerned, understanding eyes looked at him, he was reminded that these were people he trusted and who truly considered him a friend.
“Yes, I am…preoccupied with something,” Todoroki replied.
Four pairs of eyes sharpened with attention, so he took a deep breath and explained.
The encounter. Recovery Girl’s diagnosis. The quirk. The conditions.
After what felt like hours, Todoroki finally ended his explanation. There was a pause as his friends digested the information.
“WHAT?!” Uraraka nearly dropped her chopsticks.
“YOU POSSESS ROmantic interest in Bakugou?!” Iida burst out at first, immediately standing before remembering where they were, lowering his voice and himself.
Midoriya’s face turned red in record time. “W-wait—so that means—the rain earlier—Kacchan—so you—?!”
Asui blinked slowly. “Huh. Kero.”
Todoroki remained passive on the surface, though the grip on his chopsticks tightened slightly.
“I am uncertain,” he clarified. “That is why I am currently…confused.”
“Confused?” Uraraka repeated. “Hmm, but if you consider the quirk…”
“...and the extremely specific requirements it had to activate,” Midoriya added, voice hesitant.
Todoroki considered that as he looked down at his tray again. “I guess, I’m just avoiding the obvious, huh.”
Because it had been obvious.
“So what are you going to do?” Midoriya asked, leaning forward slightly, concern now mixed with curiosity.
Todoroki turned his gaze to his friend, “I would like to avoid looking at Bakugou.”
“That makes sense,” Asui nodded.
“A logical and strategic decision!” Iida agreed immediately.
“I do not want this to be publicly observable,” Todoroki added. “At least until I understand whatever is going on with myself.”
Midoriya nodded firmly. “Okay. Then we’ll help.”
"Yeah! We’ve got you!”
"We’ll block your view if we need to.”
“We shall ensure maximum efficiency in this operation!”
Todoroki felt something loosen slightly in his chest, warmth replacing it.
“Thank you.”
- - - - - - -
The afternoon went by, surprisingly peaceful.
Todoroki focused on his notes. He did not look at Bakugou, not once. It required more effort than expected.
Bakugou’s presence wasn’t exactly subtle, it never had been to him at least. Even without looking, Todoroki was aware of him—the shift of air when he moved, the familiar cadence of his voice when he spoke, the sharp edge of his reactions.
Todoroki took in a deep breath, softly exhaled, and snapped his attention back to the class discussion.
- - - - - - -
When the final bell rang, the class stirred to life immediately. The chairs scraped, conversations resumed, people began to stand.
Todoroki remained seated for a moment longer, gathering his things carefully.
Across the room, Bakugou stood and stretched, already scanning for something—or someone. His gaze landed quickly.
“Half-and-half,” he called.
Todoroki did not look. He focused on his bag instead, adjusting the strap with unnecessary precision.
Bakugou frowned, “The hell?? Oi—” he started walking over.
Midoriya reacted instantly, he leaned back in his chair to the side, directly into Bakugou’s path.
“Oh! Kacchan—hi!” he said, voice a little too bright.
“Move,” Bakugou said flatly.
“I can’t!”
“…What do you mean you can’t?”
“I’m—uh—sitting!”
“Then get out of the way!”
“I’m in the middle of something!”
“You’re doing NOTHING!”
“I am preparing myself!”
“For what?!”
Midoriya faltered. “For—uh—training later with All Might!”
Bakugou stared at him. “…I’m going to blast you.”
“WAIT—”
Iida stepped in. “Bakugou! THERE IS NO NEED FOR VIOLENCE!”
“MOVE, GLASSES!”
“I AM PROTECTING CLASS ORDER!”
“You’re blocking me!”
“That is coincidental!”
“I said move, extra!”
Uraraka snorted from the side, trying and failing to hide it. Asui watched calmly, as this was basically a normal occurrence.
Behind them, Todoroki stood quietly, carefully. He kept his eyes away, still not looking. Then, a familiar voice cut in.
“Bakugou.”
Aizawa had appeared without anyone noticing, looking exactly as tired as he felt.
“What?” Bakugou snapped.
“You’ll be attending a separate remedial session today.”
A beat passed.
“…What?”
“You heard me,” Aizawa responded .
“Why in the hell would I—”
“Because I said so.”
“That’s not a reason!”
“It is.”
Bakugou opened his mouth like he was about to argue further, tension coiling tight. Then he paused as his gaze shifted to Todoroki, who was looking at a completely different part of the room. Never landing on Bakugou, despite them always going to their remedial classes together. And it made Bakugou feel…strange.
Todoroki didn’t avoid eye contact. If anything, he was one of the few people who met Bakugou’s gaze head-on without hesitation.
Now? Nothing.
Bakugou frowned. “…What the hell is your problem?” he muttered, quieter this time.
Todoroki didn’t respond, look, nor react. The silence stretched just a second too long.
Something flickered in Bakugou’s expression—confusion, edged faintly with something else, “…Tch.” He turned away. “Whatever.” And then he left.
A lingering awkwardness settled over the room, turning the atmosphere stiff.
Todoroki exhaled quietly, “Thank you,” he said.
Because without them, there would have been rain—and questions. And consequences he wasn’t ready to deal with yet.
He adjusted his bag and turned toward the door. “I will proceed to my remedial session.”
Midoriya smiled. “Good luck!”
“We shall reconvene later!” Iida added.
Uraraka waved. “Hang in there!”
Asui gave a small nod. “Stay safe, kero.”
“I will do my best.”
And with that, Todoroki stepped out into the hallway and mentally prepared himself. Because for the next week, his greatest enemy wasn’t villains or passing the remedial classes. It was keeping Bakugou away from his line of sight.
And unfortunately,
Katsuki Bakugou was very hard not to look at.
🌧️
Avoiding Bakugou was significantly harder than it should have been, considering the events that occurred in the following days.
Mid-morning, during a short break, Todoroki had been hunched over himself on his seat, reviewing notes with careful focus. The classroom was filled with soft chatter, sunlight filtering in just enough to make everything feel warm.
Midoriya hovered nearby, very obviously on guard duty, shifting every few seconds to keep himself between Todoroki and wherever Bakugou happened to be.
“You’re doing great,” Midoriya whispered encouragingly. “Just don’t look over there.”
“I am aware,” Todoroki replied.
He was, he truly was. And yet, a familiar voice cut across the room.
“Oi, dumbass, that’s not how you—”
Todoroki glanced up.
And there Bakugou was—mid-argument, expression sharp, eyes bright with irritation, sunlight catching faintly in his hair in a way that made the edges look almost gold instead of ash-blond.
Todoroki paused, eyes scanning the sharp angles of Bakugou’s face, his breath catching in his throat.
“…WHAT THE HELL?!” Bakugou shouted as water drenched him instantly.
Midoriya froze, slowly turning toward Todoroki, who looked back at him with the expression of the literal embodiment of a deer in headlights.
“…I made a mistake,” he said.
Midoriya stared at him, completely deadpan. “You think? ”
Across the room, Kaminari was already halfway out of his seat. “IT HAPPENED AGAIN! I KNEW IT!”
“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” Bakugou roared, soaked and furious.
Midoriya sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, new plan. You're going to need a blindfold.”
“That seems excessive," Todoroki backed away.
“If you don’t control your eyes, it’s going to be necessary.”
- - - - - - -
Another day, lunch time.
The table was full, the conversation lively. Uraraka had taken over positioning, sitting at an angle that blocked Todoroki’s view of some areas of the cafeteria.
“See? Easy!” she said brightly. “You can just focus on us!”
Todoroki nodded in thanks. It was manageable, until—
“Move,” Bakugou’s voice cut in from somewhere behind Uraraka.
Todoroki didn’t see him, but he knew he was there, and for reasons Todoroki could not fully explain, that awareness alone made his attention waver.
He shifted slightly, just enough to see past Uraraka’s shoulder.
Bakugou stood a few tables away, mid-conversation, scowling at something Kaminari was saying. His posture was loose in that particular way when he wasn’t actively fighting someone—shoulders relaxed, hands in his pockets, expression still sharp but less aggressive.
Todoroki felt an amused huff escape his mouth, a subtle smile tugging at his lips, feeling a strange warmth bloom in his chest.
Uraraka slowly turned and saw where his line of sight was directed at, “…Todoroki.”
Too late.
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Bakugou roared as water poured down again.
The cafeteria erupted.
“THERE IT IS AGAIN!” Kaminari yelled, delight heard in his tone.
“IT’S FOLLOWING HIM!” Ashido dutifully added.
“Hmm, in my opinion, these continuous…incidents show that there is a high chance Bakugou was hit with some kind of quirk,” Yaoyorozu interjected from somewhere around the table.
“WELL THAT DAMN EXTRA BETTER SHOW THEMSELVES, I’M GONNA BLAST THEIR ASS WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON THEM!”
Uraraka buried her face in her hands, drowned out by the mocking laughter of the drenched blond’s friends. “Todoroki,” she drawled, voice strained.
“...Sorry,” he admitted.
From across the room, Bakugou looked like he was seconds away from detonating the entire building.
- - - - - - -
Next day, training grounds.
This means open space, very clear visibility, extremely high risk. Asui stood beside Todoroki, arms crossed, calm and alert.
“Just don’t turn your head, kero,” she said. “Simple.”
“Yes.”
It was simple, until Bakugou landed from a jump nearby, dust kicking up slightly around his boots. Todoroki didn’t turn, really. His eyes just shifted, just a little.
And there he was again. Bakugou straightened, rolling his shoulder slightly, expression focused with a calculating smirk settling onto his face. There was a certain steadiness to him in moments like this, confidence hanging on him like a well-worn garment.
It’s dangerous, how well that cocky, unwavering conviction suits him. Honestly, nobody pulls off that level of cockiness quite like Bakugou—it looks magnetic on him.
Asui sighed, “You’re looking, aren’t you? Kero.”
“…Uh.”
“NOT AGAIN—!” Bakugou’s voice echoed across the field.
Students paused mid-training.
“Bro it’s gotta be someone who has a vendetta against you,” Kirishima rushed to calm his fuming friend.
“I’m telling you it’s personal,” Sero chimed in, his head cocked to one side in intrigue.
Bakugou whipped around. “WHAT DID I EVEN DO?!”
“What didn’t you do is the question.”
Asui started at Todoroki, unimpressed. “You’re doing this on purpose now, aren’t you?”
“I am not.”
- - - - - - -
Next day again. Now, inside the Class 1A dormitory.
Iida had taken the role very seriously, too seriously.
“I SHALL CREATE A VISUAL BARRIER!” he declared, positioning himself between Todoroki and the small group of classmates gathered in the living room.
“This is definitely not suspicious at all,” Todoroki eyed the stiff class president.
“Thank you, I try my best!”
It should’ve been obvious where this was going to end up, especially if Bakugou decided to move. Which he did, directly into Todoroki’s peripheral vision. There was just something about Bakugou as Todoroki's eyes always found their way back to him.
Maybe it’s the way his ash-blond hair seems to catch the light, sun-kissed when he throws his head back to scoff at one of his friends' ridiculous stories. Maybe it’s the way his sharp, arrogant mouth often breaks into a rare, slight smirk that is more endearing than aggressive. Maybe it’s the way that despite his casual posture when lounging on the couch, he dominates the atmosphere with a commanding, quiet charisma. Maybe, most notably, his eyes—when he laughs, those red irises sparkle with an allure that makes it impossible to look away. There is a terrifyingly beautiful intensity in his gaze when he looks at his friends, a protective focus that shows how much he actually cares.
Iida froze, “…Todoroki.”
“Yes.”
“Do not—”
“ARE YOU ALL MESSING WITH ME?!” Bakugou exploded—again, drenched again.
The class lost it.
Shoji side-eyes the downpour happening inside their living room. “Well, that’s going to be a pain to clean up.”
“Uh, the water isn’t going to be the only thing we’re going to clean if someone doesn't stop that.” Everyone’s gaze shift to look at where Midoriya is pointing at, which is Bakugou’s face—a face that’s going to blow up the entire building in any second.
“WAIT! Bakugou—”
“CALM DOWN, LET’S NOT BE RASH.”
“BAKUGOU PLEASE MR. AIZAWA IS GOING TO KILL US IF YOU BLOW UP THE LIVING ROOM. AGAIN.”
Todoroki looked down as the class continued to deal with the ticking time bomb. “…My apologies.”
Iida adjusted his glasses, exasperated.
- - - - - - -
A few days passed, and Bakugou is done. Not just with the rain, although he does wish it would just stop already.
Done with Todoroki. Because something was off.
He leaned against the wall outside the classroom, arms crossed, scowl deepening as he replayed the past few days. He knows Todoroki is avoiding him, he’s not stupid like his extras. Every time he tries to talk to him, something or someone got in the way—Deku, Round face, Frog girl, even Glasses—which means Todoroki has barely given him a glance. He shouldn’t even care, but Bakugou’s jaw tightened nonetheless.
“…The hell is your problem,” he muttered under his breath. Because it didn’t make sense, and he hated things that didn’t make sense.
He pushed off the wall, irritation simmering just under the surface.
“Half-and-half,” he growled quietly.
Because one way or another, he was going to get answers.
🌧️
It was the last day before the quirk's effects wore off. For six straight days, Bakugou had been getting rained on like he personally offended the weather gods, and Todoroki felt guilty seeing the boy suffer through it.
As Class 1-A finished cleaning up after dinner, Todoroki bids goodnight to his friends and heads back to his room.
Thankfully, everything will be back to normal tomorrow.
Todoroki, consumed by his own thoughts, failed to notice the piercing look of the person that's consuming his mind set on him.
- - - - - - -
Todoroki made it to his door before a hand slammed against it.
“Oi.”
Todoroki stood still, he didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
“…Bakugou.”
“Yeah. Me,” Bakugou snapped. “You better start talking.”
Todoroki stared very intently at the floor. “I don’t believe that is necessary.”
“The hell it isn’t.”
Bakugou stepped closer. Todoroki stepped to the side.
Bakugou moved again. Todoroki turned again, keeping his gaze anywhere but towards the blond.
Todoroki hears the other let out a frustrated growl. “Stop that.”
“Stop, what.”
“You’re dodging me.”
“I am not.”
“You literally turned your whole body.”
“That is a normal human movement, yes.”
“STOP LYING—”
Todoroki reached for the doorknob. If he could just get inside—
He opened it, and successfully stepped in. But as he was about to slam the door shut, Bakugou shoved the door wider and followed him in.
The door slammed shut behind them.
Todoroki immediately turned his back. “Please leave.”
“Not happening.”
Silence stretched.
Todoroki could feel Bakugou’s stare. “Why are you acting like that?” Bakugou asked, quieter now, but no less intense.
“Like what? I am not acting differently.”
“Bullshit.”
Todoroki didn’t respond, that was enough to answer his question though. There was a shift in the air, the kind that meant Bakugou was thinking.
“…The rain,” Bakugou said slowly.
Todoroki’s shoulders stiffened. It was brief, barely noticeable, but Bakugou caught it.
“You do have something to do with it.”
Todoroki remained silent.
Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Fine. Spill, Icy-hot. Or I’m not leaving this room.”
Todoroki’s thoughts scrambled. This was bad.
This was very bad.
If Bakugou figured it out, if he said it out loud, there’s only one way it would lead to—disastrous rejection.
“Leave,” Todoroki said, forcing his voice colder than he felt. “I do not wish to speak with you.”
Bakugou went still. “…The hell did you just say?”
“Leave,” Todoroki repeated.
Silence.
Todoroki lets out a mental sigh of relief. Bakugou is surely mad, then he’s going to stomp his way out the door, then it's going to be awkward talking to him for the next few days or even weeks, but at least he knows it will go back to normal in the end.
But then, Todoroki notices it too late, movement from behind him. The world tilted and suddenly—Todoroki was on the floor.
His back hit first, breath wheezing slightly as Bakugou used both of his hands to pin Todoroki’s wrists beside his head, one knee pressing his legs to keep him in place. The shift was so abrupt, so overwhelming, that Todoroki felt his heartbeat pick up pace.
Todoroki immediately shut his eyes. “Bakugou—”
“Quit it,” Bakugou snapped. “You’ve been acting weird all week and now you’re telling me to leave? Not happening.”
This was the worst possible position to be in.
“Open your eyes, half-and-half.”
Todoroki didn’t.
“I said, open your eyes.”
There was something in Bakugou’s voice.
“…Please, Todoroki.”
Todoroki’s breath hitched.
He said my name—
Todoroki slowly opened his eyes, and immediately regretted it. Because Bakugou was right in front of him.
His expression wasn’t what Todoroki expected. It wasn’t explosive or aggressive—he was analyzing something, picking it apart piece by piece.
It made Todoroki’s chest tighten.
He looks...
The lines of his face, the way his eyes are set in determination, the slight flush at the edges of his ears.
Bakugou is very close, close enough that Todoroki could feel the warmth of him, could see the faint shift in his breathing.
...Beautiful.
The word landed before Todoroki could stop it.
Then he saw it before it fell, rain. A cloud formed above them, dumping water straight down. It soaked Bakugou instantly, and Todoroki too as he was directly underneath him.
Neither of them moved. Bakugou didn’t even react this time, he just stared.
“So it is you,” he said.
Todoroki swallowed. “…Yes.”
“Why?”
The question was simple, the answer wasn’t. But Todoroki had already come this far.
“It is a quirk effect,” he said quietly. “Triggered by…attraction.”
Bakugou blinked. “Attraction.”
“Yes.”
Rain continued to pour over them, steady and loud against the floor.
“So you’re saying,” Bakugou said slowly, “every time this stupid rain thing happened—”
Todoroki nodded.
“It was because of me.”
“Yes.”
Another pause, longer this time.
Todoroki braced himself for anger, for rejection, for Bakugou to laugh, or yell, or leave and never come back.
But instead, he felt Bakugou leaned closer. Close enough that there was barely any space between them now.
Todoroki froze. “Bakugou—”
The words died in his throat, because Bakugou’s face was right there. So close their noses almost brushed.
This is not happening.
Bakugou scoffed softly. “You’re an idiot.”
And then, he closed the distance.
The kiss was brief at first—more pressure than movement. Then it deepened, just slightly, enough to help Todoroki snap out of his shock. His eyes slip shut again, mouth reciprocating despite the subtle hesitation in his movements.
The rain intensified. It poured harder, louder, soaking them both completely. Neither of them cared.
When they pulled back, the space between them felt different. Bakugou stared at him for a second, then surprised Todoroki when he barked out a loud, sharp laugh.
“Your face,” Bakugou said, grinning. “You look stupid.”
Todoroki blinked.
“…I see.”
He was aware of the warmth in his cheeks. He was also aware that Bakugou’s ears were red.
“So,” Todoroki voiced out after a moment. “Does this mean you…are attracted to me too?”
Bakugou stared at him before his face scrunched to his usual scowl.
“Oh my fucking god,” he muttered. “You’re actually that dumb.”
“…Is that a yes?”
“YES, IT’S A YES—”
Knock knock knock.
Both of them froze as the door opened.
Aizawa stood there, hand on the doorknob, his concerned expression increasingly turned into one out of exasperation and disappointment.
The said two students on the floor can see that water was, notably, leaking out from under the door and to the hallway.
Aizawa’s eyes moved from the soaked floor, to the rain, to Bakugou, to Todoroki, and to the position they are currently in.
He let out a long, deep sigh.
“Bakugou. Out.”
“What?!” Bakugou snapped.
“Out.”
“I—”
“Now.”
Bakugou clicked his tongue. “…Tch.”
He stood, water dripping down his body, and shot Todoroki one last look, a smug smirk ghosting his face. “We’re not done.”
Then Bakugou left, the rain slowing to a stop.
Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose, looking at the still red-faced teen, then at the puddle.
“…You’re cleaning this up.”
“Yes, sir.”
Another sigh.
Aizawa turned to leave and the door shut.
Todoroki sat there for a moment. And after going through what felt like the 5 stages of grief, he allowed himself a small smile.
🌧️
Tuesday morning felt…different, probably because the quirk is finally gone from his system.
U.A. still buzzed with its usual early chatter, students drifting into the classroom in clusters, half-awake and half-loud. Which meant, logically, things should go back to normal.
“Good morning, Todoroki!” Midoriya greeted with his usual cheer as they walked through the corridor together.
“Good morning,” Todoroki replied with his usual monotone.
They moved toward their classroom, Midoriya chatting about his training progress, when Todoroki’s attention drifted the moment he opened the door.
Because Bakugou was already there.
Leaning back in his chair, one arm hooked lazily over it, expression set in its usual sharp-edged scowl as he argued with Kaminari about something trivial. There was nothing unusual about the scene—Bakugou looked exactly the same as he always did.
And yet, Todoroki slowed.
He looks…
The thought came easier now, without the quirk to interrupt or externalize it.
Bakugou shifted, turning slightly, looking up to meet heterochromatic eyes. For a brief moment, neither of them moved. Then, something shifted.
Bakugou’s expression didn’t soften—it was still sharp, still distinctly him. But the corner of his mouth tilted.
Oh.
Todoroki’s thoughts stopped.
Not the loud, feral grin he showed in battle. Not the aggressive, taunting smirk he used to provoke people.
This was different—a soft, pleased smile.
…stunning.
Todoroki felt a whoosh encompass his body.
“WHAT THE—?!” Kaminari yelped, nearly falling out of his chair.
“TODOROKI?!” Uraraka shouted, scrambling back.
Midoriya whipped around so fast he almost tripped. “Todoroki?! Are you okay?!”
Todoroki stood there, a confused frown etched on his face before noticing the flames that burst from the left side of his body.
Huh.
Across the room, Bakugou's eyes widened in shock before a loud, uncontrolled cackling came out of his mouth.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
The entire class turned to him, bewildered by the outburst.
“Heh,” Bakugou grinned, leaning back like this was the most entertaining thing he’d ever seen. “That’s karma for always making me wet.”
Time seemed to stop.
Then—
“WHAT?!” the entire class shouted in unison