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Natsuo is practically a ninja tonight, silent as the grave, sneaky as an assassin.
He’s dressed in his darkest clothes, even his brightly colored hair tucked away under his old winter beanie and a hood pulled up over that just in case. His good winter gloves are in his coat pocket so he’d had to make do with a pair of black fuzzy socks instead. With a matching set of socks on his feet as well, he’s finally ready.
It’s time to pull off the heist of the century.
Slowly, stealthily, he makes his way down the long hallway, pausing at every door to place his ear against it and listen out for stirring or other noises within.
Nothing but more silence greets his ears.
He grins to himself with a nod as he passes the last door, pleased as punch for his most brilliant decision to wait for this exact moment to strike.
Midnight is for losers who want to get caught after all, two am is where the success stories are at.
He continues his careful way down the carpeted floor, crawling on his hands and knees with not even a flashlight to aid him.
Flashlights are for sissies who want to get caught after all, feeling your way forward in the dark is what the cool kids who actually manage to pull shit off are all about.
At last he reaches the point of no return, where expensive carpeting ends, and cool harsh tile begins. His knees begin to protest immediately but he ignores the pain as best he can. No pain no gain after all. And Natsuo’s got his eye on the prize.
His hands, at the very least, are pleasantly relieved by the cool tile on the warm skin irritated by carpeting.
Failure has never been an option.
Across the building, a thud is heard, distinct in its sound yet unidentifiable.
It could be anyone. It could be anything. But he's not a quitter and he has to do this.
There's a soft light ahead, flickering just enough to break up the darkness of the room he'd entered.
He's mindful now not to make any handprints on the crisp white tile. This room was not one that was used often, the tiles only being graced by the likes of maids and the occasional other inhabitant.
This heist is unlike any other he's attempted thus far.
Natsuo is young, yes, but he's a force to be reckoned with and although it's tougher than any other heist he had attempted, he's still confident.
The counters lining the walls are steel, unfeeling and unflinching. If he were to be caught now, there would be no mercy.
Soft footsteps sounded from elsewhere in the room, but from his position by the door, he couldn't see their source nor was his hearing good enough to firmly identify the position. There was a soft hum all throughout the room, electronics functioning with their purpose.
The room was still as dark as the hallway had been and Natsuo crouched low to the ground and peered inside. The footsteps he’d heard previously go unheard now and he finds himself wondering if he’d simply imagined it.
And then, his eyes land on his prize, the gleaming of the lock all but daring him to pry it open. And pry it open he shall.
Footsteps all but forgotten, Natsuo slides closer, the glide of his socked hands and pantsed knees near seamless and silent against the tile as he moves. Slow and steady wins the race they say and Natsuo is not about to fail now. Let it not be said that Todoroki Natsuo cannot be patient and careful when he wants to be. And he wants to be, oh how he wants to be.
The lock is in his sights now, a massive dial like the one on his school locker but worse. It’s okay though because Natsuo has been watching and waiting for weeks now, keeping careful track of one number at a time until at long last he had finally managed to collect the full set.
He sneaks the rest of the way and reaches into his pocket for the tiny glow in the dark watch face he’d left charging all day. This small, it cannot even compare to a flashlight, and cupped in one palm like this and held towards the lock it provides just enough illumination to make out the numbers without giving his position away.
With his sock-gloved free hand he carefully turns to the first number, then the second, and then the third.
The tumbler does not click into place even once.
Wha—?
“They change the code on his birthday.”
The overhead light clicks on and Natsuo whirls around.
Standing over him with her arms folded across her chest and a disappointed look on her face, is his older sister Fuyumi.
Fuck, this heist has suddenly gone wrong.
“I thought you knew better than this, Natsuo,” her tone is soft but still disappointed.
He backs up slowly, still on his hands and knees before standing up.
He didn’t mean to get caught like this. He is supposed to be in and out of the kitchen, not caught in the light.
He raises his hands in the air slowly. “It’s not what you think,” he insists. “I’m not stealing it for myself.”
Fuyumi just lets out the softest sigh he’s ever heard from her. “I know that, silly. Dad isn’t even awake at this hour, you didn’t have to sneak throughout the house. A bear wouldn’t have woken him.”
Now he just feels stupid.
This was his grand heist and now Fuyumi says he didn’t even have to do it?
“If you wanted to spoil Shou on his birthday, you should’ve asked me first.”
He huffs softly, mindful not to be too loud. “So that you can turn me down in Dad’s favor and kick me out?”
She rolls her eyes affectionately and shakes her head. “I made him cookies already, they’ll go great with the ice cream.”
She leads him across the room and opens up the oven to reveal two trays of cookies, just barely beginning to turn the ‘golden brown’ that she always harps about with baking.
He’s sure his face looks like that of a goldfish in shock right now, so he tries to steel himself so that he doesn’t look silly. He was a master spy, this was just a temporary setback in his favor. Shouto would still get his ice cream and that was all that mattered.
Fuyumi glances back at him, observing his face as it shifts.
“Why don’t you stay here and take the cookies out when they’re done, I’ll go grab Shouto.”
He nodded sharply, keeping a careful eye on the cookies.
Even if he messed up his directive, he didn’t also have to mess up Shouto’s birthday.
And as Fuyumi returns, a sleepy yawning birthday boy koala clinging to her back, Natsuo can’t help marveling at how she’d managed to pull off the perfect heist all by herself.
Maybe next year he should ask for some pointers.