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thathopelessromantic · 3 years

Text

Reckless Good (3/?)

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Fic Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Teen+

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Midoriya Izuku

Note: Thanks so much for the great response so far! And if you haven’t already, please check out some of the other great pieces for the TDDK Big Bang this year!

Todoroki Shouto had accepted his fate as a public figure when he became a pro-hero, but there are some parts of his private life he would like to stay private. When he gets invited to be a speaker in a college lecture series, he goes to the meeting with one goal: to give the coordinator a piece of his mind and finally put an end to people hounding him for information about his family.

The last thing he expects is the curious, and quirkless, hero- and quirk-study professor, Midoriya Izuku, who has no interest in his family’s history, and, somehow, even more ties to the hero industry than Shouto. Intrigued by the professor, Shouto tentatively agrees to the lecture series, unknowingly intertwining their futures.

But the more Todoroki sees of Midoriya, the more questions he has. When a villain attack leaves them living together until the culprits are apprehended, maybe he’ll finally get some answers.

AO3: (x) Chapter One: (X) Chapter Two: (X)

Shouto is, regrettably, not unfamiliar with the process of checking into the hospital, or the protocols in the burn unit, but things seem to go surprisingly quick with a doctor at his side, explaining not only the extent of his injury but the cause. Just a few moments after they’ve arrived, Shouto is whisked away from Dr. Midoriya and Kou to have his burn cleaned and dressed. They run the usual battery of tests, poke him for blood what feels like a dozen times, and after about half a dozen reassurances to various doctors and nurses that, yes, he does know how to care for a burn at home, he’s told he might be able to go home later that night.

The room he’s put in is, admittedly, one of the nicer hospital rooms that he’s visited. It’s part of a private wing made specifically for pro-heroes to get a little peace from fans and the media while recovering, but it doesn’t make him hate it any less. He’s only been alone in the room for twenty minutes or so, but he’s already contemplating a prison break. Let Momo handle the paperwork for his unconventional discharge on her next day at the office and call it good. But the risk of being put on some extra mandatory leave is too great. His doctor and Momo have been on his case about taking care of himself properly for months now and they’d love any excuse to bench him for a few extra weeks, instead of the couple of days he’ll need for the burn to heal enough that he can cover it securely and get back to work.

There’s a short knock on the door. Shouto starts to mentally prepare himself for another argument with a doctor when the door inches open and Kou peeks in. Surprised, Shouto waves to her. Kou smiles back, turning to motion at someone behind her. A moment later the door opens the rest of the way and Kou rushes in, followed by Dr. Midoriya.

“Dr. Midoriya and I are on a secret adventure.” Kou announces in a whisper. There’s a Uravity-themed spacesuit sticker on her cheek and she looks as if she’s recovered from the evening’s events, but her clothes have been replaced by a colorful hospital gown and fuzzy bathrobe.

Dr. Midoriya hasn’t changed his clothes, but he has a white lab coat on over top.

“Oh? What is your secret adventure?” Shouto asks. He shifts to the side and makes room for Kou to climb onto the bed besides him.

“Visiting you!” She announces, happily. “It’s a secret because I’m not supposed to leave the quirk ward, but Dr. Midoriya snuck me out. This is for you. Dr. Midoriya said you were friends!” She pulls two more stickers out of a pocket in her robe and hands them to him; a music note that says Earphone Jack and a nesting doll in Creati’s costume.

“Thank you,” Shouto says genuinely, though he has no idea what he’s going to do with the stickers. But his mind is distracted by Kou’s other words. The quirk ward? Obviously there was a reason the villains had targeted the girl, but that detail had gotten buried in the chaos of everything else. Now he’s reminded of the villain’s words…something about her being the key.

He looks up but Dr. Midoriya meets his eye with a subtle shake of his head.

Shouto lets the subject drop for now, but he’s determined to stay a part of this investigation. He’ll get his answers eventually.

Turning back to Kou, he tries a hesitant smile. “Would you still like that autograph?”

Her whole being lights up. “Really?” She reaches into the pocket of her robe again only for her face to drop. “Oh. I forgot my notebook.”

Dr. Midoriya taps her on the shoulder, holding out a small, heart-shaped notepad and a glittery gel pen.

Kou gasps, taking the items from him with excited thanks. She flips through the notebook quickly looking for a blank page, and Shouto is surprised by how many signatures she’s already amassed. Satisfied with the location, she hands the notebook and pen to him. She’s practically vibrating in excitement as he writes a quick note to her, trying to make it sound a little more personal than his usual scribbled signature.

Just as Shouto finishes his note, there’s another knock on the door. Yet another doctor steps into the room, reading through something in a folder. Her long, silver hair is draped over her shoulder in a thick braid and there’s a sharp horn coming out of her forehead. She seems faintly familiar to Shouto but he can’t place why he would recognize her. At the very least he doesn’t think he’s ever had her as a doctor before. She stops in her tracks when she sees Dr. Midoriya and Kou gathered around his hospital bed.

“Izuku!” she scolds, crossing her arms over her chest.

It takes Shouto a moment to remember Izuku is Dr. Midoriya’s first name. He glances up at him.

Dr. Midoriya leans close to Kou, covering his mouth with one hand to stage whisper to her. “I think we got caught.”

Kou copies him with a quiet giggle. “Oops.”

Shouto closes her notebook carefully and slides it across the bed. Kou covertly slips it into her robe.

“What are you even doing here?” The new doctor asks, exasperated. There’s no way she didn’t hear the two of them whispering, but she seems to be ignoring it.

“Kou just wanted to thank Entropy for saving her!” Dr. Midoriya insists, apparently choosing to take no blame in their “secret adventure.”

“Dr. Aizawa has a quirk kind of like mine,” Kou tells Shouto in a hushed voice while the two doctors argue. “She and Dr. Midoriya are really nice. And funny.”

Dr. Aizawa makes it all click. The light hair and the horn. She was the same little girl Aizawa had adopted during Shouto’s first year.

“We were just leaving, Dr. Aizawa!” Kou chimes in suddenly, sliding off the bed and grabbing Dr. Midoriya’s hand. “Bye!”

Dr. Aizawa shakes her head as Dr. Midoriya is pulled out of the room by a girl a quarter his size. “This isn’t over just because you have a patient protecting you, Izuku.”

Dr. Midoriya sends a bright smile back at her just as the door closes on the two of them.

“I hope they weren’t bothering you too much,” Dr. Aizawa says as she comes over to Shouto’s bed.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m glad I got to see her again. I was worried she’d be a little more upset after everything.”

“Kou’s a strong girl. She’s going to be okay.” Dr. Aizawa says with certainty. “Anyways, I’m Aizawa Eri, I’m part of the hero staff here.”

“Aizawa, er...Eraserhead’s daughter, right?”

Dr. Aizawa smiles and it looks so shockingly like Dr. Midoriya’s, Shouto can’t help but wonder about what their connection to each other is. Especially with how casually she spoke to him. Could they be related? It seems like he would have known if his homeroom teacher had also had or adopted a son his age, wouldn’t he? “That’s right, you were one of his students! Nice to see you again.”

Shouto bows his head in acknowledgement. He knows he met the young girl Aizawa adopted a few times, but his memories of her are fuzzy at best.

Dr. Aizawa checks him over again, asking him a few questions about how he’s feeling and what’s been done already. Finally, she gets to why she’s here to see him. “I’m not sure if you would remember, but my quirk is Rewind. It’s delicate but helpful for healing, especially for many pros. If you remember about how long ago you were burned, I should be able to heal your arm so that you can get back to work without too much fuss.”

“Really?”

Dr. Aizawa nods. “I can rewind your body back to before it happened, but it will rewind your whole body so the closer to the exact time it happened the better, otherwise too many things could change. Do you have a good idea of when it happened?”

“What time is it now?”

Dr. Aizawa glances at her watch. “Almost ten.”

Shouto is briefly surprised by that information. He hadn’t realized how long he had been in the hospital already. “I left the agency after the first alerts came in around 6:30, so it was probably around 7 that I made contact with the villain. I can’t be more exact than that, unfortunately.”

“That should work alright. Would you like to be rewound, or would you prefer to let it heal naturally?”

Shouto shakes his head. Anything to speed up the process. “No, please rewind it if you can.”

She smiles. “Okay, it will be just a moment then.”

Dr. Aizawa pulls on a pair of gloves and takes his arm in her hands, gently, mindful of the injury and the loose bandages protecting it.

A moment later the horn at her temple begins to glow, Shouto has to look away as the warm light grows brighter and then, just like that, it’s over. When he looks back at the doctor, her horn has shrunk a little, losing some of the sharp edge at the top.

“Okay! You should be good to go. How does it feel?”

Shouto moves his arm a few times, relieved that there’s no pain as he moves it. Carefully he peels off the bandages. It looks as if he was never injured, not even a small scar left behind.

Dr. Aizawa looks pleased with the results. “Perfect. Unfortunately it doesn’t work on non-living things so you will have to have your costume repaired separately.”

“That’s fine,” Shouto says. He was more worried about being forced to take some sick leave than repairing his costume to begin with. “Thank you.”

Dr. Aizawa smiles again. “Of course. I’m happy to help.” She pulls a few papers out of her folder and hands them to him. “If you are ready, you can take these to the desk out front and you’ll be discharged.”

Shouto hesitates as he takes the papers from her. An hour ago he was ready to run at the first chance, but now…she was someone who might have some answers…

“Kou mentioned that the two of you had similar quirks,”

“I’m sorry. If you become a part of the investigation I’m sure you’ll find out more information, but for now I can’t disclose a patient’s information.” Dr. Aizawa says before he can even finish figuring out exactly what he wants to ask.

“Right. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I don’t blame you for being curious, not after everything that’s happened.”

Dr. Aizawa looks ready to leave, but there’s one more thing Shouto has to ask. At least while he still has a chance.

“Can I ask about Dr. Midoriya, then?”

Dr. Aizawa stops with a puzzled look. “Izuku? What about him?”

Shouto's mind goes blank. Everything doesn’t seem like a plausible response. At least not one that would get him anywhere. “Uh, I…I was just surprised to hear you call him Izuku. Are you close?”

Dr. Aizawa studies him for a long time as if she could determine whatever ulterior motives he had for asking just by staring him down. Maybe she could if even he knew what he was doing asking these questions.

“I’ve known Izuku for a long time,” she finally says. “He’s like family.”

The answer is careful, guarded. With the slightest undertone of a threat.

“…Right.” Shouto replies awkwardly. “Thank you.”

Dr. Aizawa inclines her head to him. “Have a nice night, Entropy.”

After checking out with Dr. Aizawa’s discharge papers, Shouto heads back to the agency. Sunspot practically tackles him in the lobby.

“Entropy! You’re okay! I thought you were just going to check on the kidnapped civilian, but then Ingenium told me his friend was taking you to the hospital and that I had nothing to worry about so I should just go back to the agency but I didn’t know why you were going to the hospital or what was happening,” she stutters over her words for a moment, taking a breath. “Was it okay to leave? I didn’t know what else to do but I didn’t know what hospital you went to or why. Were you injured? You don’t look hurt. Is that how you damaged your costume?”

Shouto lets her run on while he goes to his office. He knows she’ll follow. And that it’s pointless to try and get a word in until she runs out of breath.

Sunspot sinks into one of his office chairs as he goes to turn his computer on. He lifts a brow at her slumped form in the armchair.

“Are you done?”

She opens her mouth to speak again but after a moment shuts it again and nods.

“The villain who took the hostage burned me. I hadn’t realized the extent of the injury until later. I’m sorry I didn’t contact you personally so that you knew it was okay to come back, but it was fine that you came back. It wasn’t serious.” Shouto explains calmly. “You said Ingenium told you to come back?” Shouto thinks back to Dr. Midoriya texting in the ambulance and he wonders if the two know each other.

Sunspot nods again. “He came and found me and told me a friend was taking you to the hospital. I assumed he meant one of the paramedics. I didn’t know he was friends with the paramedics. Was that part of U.A. training? Getting to know first-responders closely? Or just a coincidence?”

“I think it’s just a coincidence on Ingenium’s part. Not something you’re missing out on.” Shouto says. “You did good tonight. Go home and get some rest.”

“But-”

Shouto gestures to her before she can argue. “You expended a lot of your reserve helping the rescue crews with civilians trapped under the rubble and then helping me melt the ice. It’s okay.”

Sunspot looks down at herself. The faint glow she normally gives off as a result of having excess energy saved up by her quirk is almost completely extinguished. At the late hour, she wouldn’t be able to get any more energy even if they needed to go out into the field again. Not until the sun was up again.

Sunspot pushes herself out of the chair. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help tonight.” She says with a short bow.

Shouto waves her off. “It’s okay.”

“Good night, Entropy.”

“Good night, Sunspot. Good work tonight.” Shouto says. He catches just a glimpse of her relieved smile as his office door closes quietly behind her.

Alone, Shouto settles into his desk chair, already mentally preparing for a long night. He considers going against doctor’s orders and getting some coffee but just barely resists the temptation. Caffeine might end up making him too jittery to focus and this is important. Writing up a more in-depth report of the event for the police and the agency records is the first priority of the night. But after that, Shouto has some research to do.

Momo finds him like that in the morning. Sometime in the night the combination of the late hour and bright computer screen got to him and he went in search of his rarely-worn glasses to take some of the stress off. His final report and the accompanying paperwork are tucked in a folder for safe keeping, but the rest of his desk is a disaster zone of scattered pages, printed news reports of the attack last night with any information he might have missed, any police reports on the matter he could get his hands on with his current clearance, his own compiled notes.

He doesn’t even realize someone else is in the office with him until Momo clears her throat, placing a paper to-go cup of tea in the middle of his desk, on top of the latest piece he’s reading.

“Shouto,” she says seriously, crossing her arms over her chest. “ When did you last take a break?”

Shouto tries to come up with an answer but his brain is fuzzy at best, street names and potential identities floating at the forefront of his consciousness. “Uh, what time is it?”

Momo sighs, rubbing at her temple with one hand. “ Go home, Shouto.”

“I just need to-"

“No.” Momo comes around the other side of his desk, pulling him up and out of his desk chair by one arm. “It’s almost eight o'clock. You need to go home and go to bed.”

Momo might have had a point, his shift was supposed to end at six that morning and he hadn’t even noticed the time, but he digs his heels in, resisting being dragged from the office to the best of his ability. Unfortunately, Momo is stronger than she looks, and has the advantage of a full-night’s sleep on him.

“Go home. Go to sleep. Don’t come back until Saturday.”

“But-”

“You were injured! You should have called me as soon as you were taken to the hospital,” Momo scolds.

“I got better.”

Momo looks at him curiously. She comes to a stop, scanning him over. Shouto’s sure he looks a mess, still half-dressed in his damaged hero-suit, the top unzipped and tied around his waist. His hair has started to escape the braid he had it in for work and he can see the loose hair floating in his peripheral vision. Not to mention how exhausted he probably looks after spending the whole night scouring the police database. But – he’s not injured.

“What do you mean you ‘got better’? You weren’t really injured?”

Shouto sighs. “No, I was. There was a doctor at the hospital with a quirk who fixed it. Aizawa’s daughter, actually.”

Momo’s brows shoot up in surprise. “I didn’t realize she became a doctor. That’s wonderful.” She pauses. “But not the point. You still should have called someone. Though I suppose I should be grateful you went to get help, at all.”

Shouto rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well…there was a doctor on the scene when I was talking to the girl who was targeted who saw my burn.”

“A doctor?”

“Uh…Dr. Midoriya.” Shouto explains. He isn’t sure if Momo will recognize the name, not entirely sure if he wants her to remember or not.

“The professor from the lecture series?” Momo asks in surprise. “What was he doing there?”

“Apparently he’s not just a professor.”

Momo studies him for a few moments, trying to figure something out. Shouto doesn’t blame her. He’d like some answers about his behavior too. He just hopes she comes to an easy conclusion, like Shouto cooperated with Dr. Midoriya because he sort-of knew him, and not anything else ridiculous. Or revealing. Or uncomfortable.

Finally, Momo shakes her head, brushing off whatever conclusions she may have come to. “I don’t care. Go home. Sleep. Eat something. I’ll finish submitting your reports to the police and I’ll make sure they know you are interested in joining the case searching for the villains who escaped last night, but other than talking to anyone who contacts you about the case, I don’t want to hear about you working again until this weekend.”

Shouto wants to keep arguing, he’s not even hurt anymore, but he knows this is the best he’s going to get from her. He is also unbelievably grateful for all the years they’ve known each other and how Momo knows exactly what he needs to hear to relax, even just a little. “Okay. Thank you.”

Momo nods. “We’ll get whoever it is, Shouto. But you don’t have to do it alone. And you can’t do it in one night. So please take care of yourself. I’ll see you on Friday for dinner.”

Momo waves to an intern, instructing them to escort Shouto to the exit. Shouto wants to protest being babysat the rest of the way to the door, but Momo pins him with a hard look before he can even open his mouth and he lets it happen. Admittedly, now that he’s not pouring over his research to keep himself moving, he can feel exhaustion settling over him.

Though he could still find the way to the damn door himself.

Shouto stumbles into his dark apartment twenty minutes later. He leaves the lights off as he comes through the entrance. The morning sun has started to fill the front room with light, and its enough for him to make his way to the bedroom without tripping over anything. His bed is cool, the sheets still ruffled from the previous morning. Shouto just barely remembers to strip off his ruined hero-suit before he drops into the bed, using his left side to warm up the sheets quicker. In a minute, he’s asleep.

When he wakes again, warm golden light pours into the room from his half-open window. He runs a hand over his face, trying to will away the strange, disorienting feeling of waking up. He reaches to his bedside table, knocking a few things to the side until he connects with his alarm clock. Pulling it close, he squints at the lit screen. It was almost five in the afternoon. Shouto tosses the offending thing away. He takes just a few moments to reorient himself before he forces himself out of bed and into the shower.

He only remembers after stepping into the spray that half of his hair is still twisted into a braid. He swears as he tears the now-wet strands free of the stubborn rubber-band, tugging at the knots there unhappily. He doesn’t mean to stay in the shower for long, but after fighting with his hair for who knows how long, the heat and relaxing pound of the spray against his shoulders eases some of the tension from his body and he wastes time under the comforting water until it starts to run cold. The temperature change doesn’t bother him much, but he figures he’s wasted enough water like that and climbs out.

After drying off a little, Shouto brushes his teeth, and that, combined with washing off the grime of the previous day, helps make him feel a little more awake. A little more human.

Shouto dresses in casual civilian clothes. He finds his phone, dead, in a pocket of his hero-suit before tossing the ruined thing in a bag to give to the support team. They’ll probably just have to make him a new one, but he feels bad throwing it away without trying to salvage it.

His charger is plugged in near the bed, so he goes to grab it so he can charge his phone in the kitchen while he makes something to eat. But in fumbling around looking for the charger, he spots his forgotten glasses in the mess of sheets and pillows on his bed. The ear piece on the right side is bent at a strange angle and one of the lenses is cracked. Shit. Well, he supposes, that’s what he gets for wearing them for the first time in months while running on fumes. He tosses the damaged glasses on his side table and leaves for the kitchen.

Finally, he switches on a few lights.

His apartment is mostly bare, plain white walls with just a few basic pieces of furniture, mostly just there to fill the empty space. The occasional dirty glass or dish that gets left behind if he’s in a rush on his way to work are the only signs of the life in the otherwise dull place. Those, and the three picture frames hanging on the wall in his living room; one of his mother and siblings, one of his graduating class with their teachers mixed in with the colorful crowd, and one of the day he and Momo started their agency. They’re the only decoration he needs. They represent all the important people in his life.

There are a few containers of leftovers in the fridge, and while it would be easier to warm something up and leave it at that, Shouto takes the time to pull out some fresh ingredients. Washing off the vegetables and prepping them while rice cooks is a simple, familiar routine and it helps ground him.

He starts a simple stir fry with chicken just as his phone finally comes back to life, chiming with a number of missed notifications. Lowering the heat slightly, Shouto lets it simmer for a minute while he checks his phone.

A few of the notifications are basic news reports he usually dismisses, though today he saves any about last night’s attack incase there’s been any updated information. There are two texts from Momo asking if he got home safe and if he ate anything. He shoots of a quick reply to her, apologizing for not letting her know right away and reassuring her he’s making food now. He takes a picture of the pan and sends it as an after thought, just in case she doesn’t believe him. There are also a few texts from Kyouka telling him to stop worrying her wife and to stop being an idiot. He responds to those with a few choice emojis and nothing else. She’ll get the message.

Finally, he looks at the emails he missed. There’s one from an Officer Uchida he doesn’t recognize, confirming he (Momo) submitted the right paper work to join the case against the villains from the night before and once the task force has been officially formed he would be contacted with more information. Relieved, Shotuo saves the contact information and sets it as a priority so he’ll be sure to get any future notifications right away. The only other missed email is from Dr. Midoriya.

Shouto goes back to checking his food, stirring it for a few minutes and adding a few more ingredients. His attention goes back to his phone a few times, but he resists going back to it. He’s not sure why, he’s been waiting for this stupid email basically since he left the professor’s office, but suddenly he’s nervous about opening it. He’s not sure what to expect once he opens the list of the professor’s topics. What if he imagined all of this and the professor still wants him to talk about his family? What if Shouto can’t answer any of his questions about how his quirk works? Is it even a good idea for him to talk publicly about how his quirk works? Couldn’t someone use that against him?

Shouto turns his phone upside down, hiding the blinking notification.

He’ll look at it after he eats.

He finishes cooking a little while later. Scooping out a generous serving of rice into a bowl and getting a plate for the stir fry he settles in the living room. He has a perfectly good table he could eat at in the kitchen, but there’s something satisfying in breaking the rules and eating on the couch. Out in the open, casually. He hasn’t lived with his father since he was a first year, but he still takes satisfaction in all the ways he can defy him and the rules he kept in that house.

Shouto turns on the local news channel to watch while he eats. Unsurprisingly, the attack from last night is still the focus of the station. There’s a reporter discussing the widespread damage through downtown on the screen. In the background, heroes and clean up crews are still working to clear the rubble. Shouto recognizes Uravity’s bright pink costume amongst all the grey and black. She’s moving two giant pieces of concrete overhead, some kind of broken metal rods coming from one look particularly dangerous.

A scrolling banner runs across the bottom of the broadcast, asking anyone who might have information about the villains to call in to a hotline, and a separate call for anyone with quirks that might help in fixing the damage done to the roads. There are also short headlines for stories meant to air later that night and a small graphic with the weather.

The camera view changes suddenly and the report comes back into view with a police officer, answering questions about the attack.

What did they know about it? Not much yet, but they don’t think it was random.

Was anyone seriously injured? Thankfully most casualties were only minor injuries and the paramedics on scene took care of most of the civilians who were hurt.

Who were the villains? No one in particular. They don’t think this is an organized group starting attacks. Not like in the past. No one needs to worry.

All safe answers that tell them basically nothing about what happened. Shouto learned more in the two minutes he spent on the radio before pursuing the villain than the news report. He changes the channel. A talk show re-run is showing an old interview with Hawks. Shouto hesitates changing the channel again.

“So, Hawks, it’s no secret that you’ve been a fan of Endeavor’s basically since your debut, and the two of you made a good team as Number 1 and 2 for a while,” the interviewer says in a fake cheerful voice. Hawks gives a stiff smile, placating but revealing nothing about how he actually feels about the subject. “What are your thoughts on the rumors brewing about a civil trial after the allegations against Endeavor from his family?”

‘Tis the season.

Shouto clicks the TV off before Hawks can reply.

Not hungry anymore, Shouto puts his plate down. He ate most of what he had taken anyways. The rest will be fine for leftovers.

Getting up from the couch, Shouto goes back to the kitchen for his phone. The same ignored email is still waiting for him with that mocking, blinking notification light. Taking a deep breath, as if preparing for a fight, he opens it.

Entropy,

I hope you are doing better after Dr. Aizawa’s visit with you at the hospital. Sorry I couldn’t see you off. Here is the list of possible topics we discussed the other day. This is just an abbreviated list of some basic things to talk about. You can obviously go into more detail about anything that might interest you or that you think might be important information for anyone with two or dual quirks to consider.

Thank you for considering being a part of the Hero Talks Series.

Thank you, also, for your help with the attacks last night and with Kou.

Midoriya

Shouto isn’t sure what to focus on first. The dropped title from the professor’s name? Midoriya thanking him for doing his job of all things?

Making the executive decision to focus on none of them for the time being, Shouto opens the attached document with the lecture topics. Dr. Midoriya’s “abbreviated list" is still two pages long.

Somehow, it’s exactly what Shouto was expecting.

#bnha #mha #tododeku #tddk #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #tododeku big bang 2021 #fic #rita writes #6.24.21 #fic: reckless good

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some-cookie-crumbz · 4 years

Note

Just please be my best friend right now, not the guy I just confessed my love to with TDDK?

Hope you wanted a little bit of angst today because that’s what I got on the schedule for ya~!

Shoto had been waiting for this day for weeks. He’d been marking his calendar and waiting with bated breath to get an answer. And, finally, he’d gotten the letter that would seal his freedom. He’d received a call from Touya a few days before the letter arrived, during his lunch period, confirming that there’d be a room for him in the city if he got accepted. The two of them had never been particularly close due to the gap in their ages but he’d been hopeful that being kin would be enough. And then, shortly after, he’d gotten his acceptance letter from Julliard. Soon enough, he’d be miles away from Japan, from his father, from all the things weighing him down. He’d be free to do and play his violin however he wanted. He’d have a taste of freedom like he’d never known and all that separated him from it was the final performance in two weeks.

But he was unsure now, as he sat in his seat alone in the rehearsal room, awaiting the arrival of the rest of the orchestra students. Things had changed after a conversation at lunch, just before the bell, and now he wasn’t sure what he wanted for himself anymore.

“U-Um, good afternoon, To-Todoroki-Kun!” Midoriya chirped nervously as he walked into the music room. Ah, of course, the very person who had thrown a wrench into his plans.

Midoriya Izuku was an anomaly among the students at Yuuei Academy. He was the second chair first violin, poised at the same stand as Shoto himself, and had been since their first year. Unlike so many of their peers, though, Izuku had been adamant about getting to know their frigid concertmaster. It had not been an easy task, as Shoto himself had been outright cruel in the beginning, but Midoriya had persisted. When Shoto had finally broken, frustrated and confused, and demanded an answer, Midoriya had offered a small, sad smile and said, “Because… You’re like me. You always seem so lonely, like you want someone to reach out but you don’t know how to take hold of that hand.”

And that… It was the truth and it made the first crack in the walls he'd built around himself. From there he befriended other members of the orchestra. He had a moderate group of friends now but Midoriya still remained the most important of them. Things with him just came naturally. Midoriya being awkward like him meant that he was great at reading the subtle cues of Shoto’s feelings and typically knew how to help him get more comfortable or leave when he needed to.

And then, just as they’d parted for the rest of their classes before their orchestra meeting at the end of the day, Midoriya had confessed to being in love with Shoto.

He glanced up when he realized that Midoriya was speaking to him, but he hadn’t caught what he’d said. An inquiry about his feelings towards Midoriya's confession, no doubt. “I appreciate your feelings,” he said, deciding to just bandaid it and hope that Midoriya would have a solution like always, “but I’ll be leaving to attend Julliard shortly after we graduate.”

Midoriya stared at him with wide, heartbroken and betrayed eyes. He opened his mouth a few times, clearly struggling to find a proper answer. “I was asking if Yamada-Sensei mentioned what piece we’d be starting with today, but I appreciate your honesty,” he said quietly.

“O-Oh,” Shoto stumbled out, feeling heat creep up along the tips of his ears. He should have been paying more attention to what the other said, like he usually did. “I think he said last time he wanted to work on Appalachian Spring first today.”

The other nodded as he pulled out his binder of sheet music and settled it on the stand in front of them. He had always insisted that they use Midoriya’s note-riddled pages instead of his own blank ones. He liked that Midoriya would mark what he needed to improve on, write little encouragements between the measures of tricky parts, and had even offered to note anything he picked up on Shoto’s own playing, too. Because Midoriya was just incredibly thoughtful like that. He used a green pen for himself and a blue pen for Shoto.

Shoto stared at the violin stretched out across his lap as the doors to the room opened again and he heard a few more students start to come in. “Midoriya, I… I think we should talk about it,” he mumbled.

“Not now,” he said, voice choked and cracking. It was clear he was hurt and trying to keep it together. And it made Shoto hurt to know he caused it.

“But I-!”

“Just, please,” he wheezed out quietly, keeping his voice low so they weren’t overheard. Which seemed a little silly, given there wasn’t even half the rest of the orchestra present yet. Even still, he didn’t tear his gaze away from his shaking hands as he flipped to the first page of sheet music on their stand. “Be my best friend right now. Not the guy I just confessed my love to.”

An uncomfortable sensation squirmed to life in Shoto's belly. A part of him wanted to argue that the two stances could be mutually exclusive - that he could be Todoroki-Kun the friend as well as Todoroki-Kun the love interest - without any bias but he didn't want to upset Midoriya further. So, instead, he relented with a soft, "Okay."

Midoriya took a small inhale before speaking at his usual volume. “So you applied to Julliard and got in. That’s great!”

“Yeah,” he trailed, picking up on the slightest bit of discomfort in Midoriya’s voice. It was the first time that it felt and sounded like the other was forcing himself to have a conversation. It… It hurt.

He wanted to say something, needed to say something, but he struggled with what would be best. Between Midoriya's insistence to drop it and his own tendency to put his foot in his mouth, it felt like a catch 22. “Do you already have a place to stay lined up? I mean, New York is a huge city so there’s probably a bunch of options close by,”

“Touya lives there. He and a bunch of his friends have a house they share. He told me they’ll have a room ready for me,” he said, then shook his head. He couldn't do this. It just felt wrong! A conversation with Midoriya should never be this stilted, this forced! “I… Midoriya, I-!”

“That’s good! Living with him will give you the chance to connect with him like you’ve been doing with Natsuo-Kun and Fuyumi-San, right? I think that’ll be great for you,” he said, voice growing softer at the end. He hoisted his violin case into his lap and started undoing the clasps. "I wish you had told me what you were planning to do."

"Would you still have confessed? If you knew I was leaving?" Shoto asked, and silently damned himself. He didn't want that answer. He knew what it already was and he didn't want it said out loud, didn't want it to cut him like it would.

Midoriya stared at him for a moment, expression openly hurt and eyes misting up. "Yes,"

"What? Why?" he asked.

"I didn't tell you with the thought that you felt the same way; I told you so I could get over you easier," he sighed before turning his attention back to getting out his violin. Once he had it by the neck and his bow in one hand, he clasped his case back up and set it down beside his seat. "I always thought you'd end up at some prestigious music academy. I'll admit I didn't think you'd go for one out of the country so soon, but I'm not stupid. You're an incredible musician. Not just in a natural skill, but you care so much about it! You put your everything into every song, every measure, every note! The idea that you won't go far is silly. I'm just the kid who needed some extracurriculars to help get scholarships. There was no way that there could have been anything more than just a great friendship between us."

Shoto stared at him for a moment in shock, eyes skirting from Midoriya as he started to tune his instrument to the rest of the room. Over half the other students were here and he could see Uraraka, Iida and Momo watching with excited looks as they got their instruments from the back rack. He looked back down at the other boy, reaching out to grab his wrist as he lifted his bow for another note. "You say you didn't expect me to feel the same… but you're lying. Why else would you be so upset?"

A patient, slow blink that shifted into a guarded look. No, no, this wasn't happening! He couldn't be driving Midoriya away, could he? "I'm not upset you rejected me romantically; I'm upset you didn't trust me enough as your friend to mention you were leaving the damn country," he hissed, wrenching his wrist out of his grasp and scraping against his strings funny. A wince-worthy squeal came from the strings, causing every head to turn to them.

"Hey, Shitty Deku! Keep it the fuck down!" Bakugo shouted from his perch in the back with his bass.

“Sorry, Kacchan!” he called back up but there was no sincerity in his tone. For a second the blonde looked like he was ready to come charging down for him before being distracted by his stand mate, Kirishima, coming to join him. Midoriya shook his head before adjusting in his seat, taking a proper playing position on the edge of his seat. “I was your friend before my feelings for you became romantic and I always want that to come first. I just… I thought you trusted me enough to tell me something important like that.”

“Midoriya,” he mumbled, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Because, really, what was he supposed to say? He didn’t really have an excuse for not talking to him about it. He knew that he could trust the other with anything under the sun. None of the other precious secrets he’d shared with the other, like the origins of his scar or his rough childhood, had ever made it out to the other students. And the idea that Midoriya wouldn’t have been supportive was also asinine.

Perhaps it was fear? He wasn’t sure.

“Look,” Midoriya said, snapping Shoto back into the present. He had lowered his instrument slightly and tilted his head to look at him. “I’m upset and a little hurt, I won’t lie. But I don’t hate you or anything. We’re still best friends. Things will probably be weird for a couple of days, but I’ll get over it and then we’ll be back to normal, okay?” And, without waiting for an answer, he returned to his proper posture and started up at one of the bars with a little green tick by it.

As Yamada-Sensei headed down and started to call the cluster of students together, Shoto felt an odd hollow feeling branch out like a rooting tree from his chest to his limbs. Of course Midoriya would forgive him. The other boy was just too inherently kind to not give forgiveness a chance.

He’d forgiven Bakugo for all he’d done to him, even though he’d never come asking for it.

He’d forgiven the other bullies from his childhood, whose cruelty had crippled him for years.

He’d forgiven his father, who had left he and his mother before he was five.

And now Todoroki Shoto would be added to that list, too, of people that had hurt Midoriya.

He was going to be sick.

#crumbles grumbles #TodoDeku #my fics #Am I projecting a little bit on to Midoriya and Todoroki in this fic simultaneously?#Absolutely #I had like three other ideas for how to take this one #But this was the route that felt right

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tiang0u · 7 years

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i loved that one shot!!! and now i would for it to have a small continuation with todoroki taking slight advantage of Izuku's accidental confession to bask in his kindness and company and them slowly acknowledging the realm meaning of what izuku said along with what shouto's response meant!!

i informally dub you as warm anon! apologies for such a late response; i thought about how to respond and i really just was going to go small and write snippets of izuku caring and shouto smiling but i think this is my first time ever writing tddk purely for romance without ulterior motives like character study so i think it got out of hand and…characterization .really got away from me

i hope you don’t mind that i made this a prompt fill! this is written especially 4 you my friend so i hope it is satisfying to you on some level!

untitled, 2017“Sorry…but to make sure, Todoroki-kun,” Izuku says, “…likes me, right?”

Todoroki’s mouth opens. And then closes. And then opens again, before he leans back further and crosses his arms over his chest and sighs heavily and says, “Yes. I like you. Midoriya.”

tododeku, bnha, continuation to this!

Maybe Todoroki didn’t think it was a confession, Izuku reasons the next day. After all, he has been conditioned to understand rejection in all aspects, and even if he never gave up on being a hero and it worked out, love is a different matter for someone who used to and still does lack in many areas. Like him.

So Todoroki probably was just advising Izuku to be careful about how lax he was with his words. He accepted that Izuku, strangely, wants to be kind to him. That’s all.

Except that’s not all–good god, now that he’s become aware that he likes Todoroki, this wasn’t even a reality he was prepared to face, or that he knew even existed, and certainly not when a free day followed. Today is going to be great.

Play it cool is his only option. He can do that. Probably. He’s never been cool a day in his life but he has played all sorts of things so that’s fine. He will be kind to Todoroki like Todoroki deserves (a lot), maybe Todoroki will smile at him again like that, and then he will hole himself up in his room and curse himself for getting all worked up, by himself, with himself.

“Todoroki-kun, I thought about it,” Izuku reports faithfully when he passes Todoroki in the hallway, near the lounge area.

“As long as you know,” Todoroki replies. Strangely, it is equal parts comforting and disheartening.

Izuku clears his throat. “Of course!”

Todoroki must see him floundering in his mind, awkwardly, because he offers, “You’re overthinking it.”

“Overthinking what?”

“Being kind. And what you said,” Todoroki replies. “Just act like you usually do.”

That confirms it once and for all–Todoroki really didn’t see it as a confession. Izuku sighs.

“Okay,” he says. He shouldnt even be feeling this put-out; it wasn’t even a proper confession after all–completely accidental and he basically rambled about kindness and something about peace and he didn’t even say…the L-word.

“–lunch?” Todoroki says to him.

Something about lunch. Before Todoroki heads to the hospital probably. He wants to have lunch. Izuku mentally claps himself on the back for his deduction.

“Y-Yes,” Izuku stumbles and when Todoroki looks at him knowingly, knowing he got lost in his thoughts again, he flushes and looks away but not before he sees that smile again.

Maybe it won’t be so hard after all.

Actually it’s really hard.

It must be him or that Todoroki sits closer to him at lunch. And Todoroki sits closer to him during their free time, out back behind the dorms on the grass. Todoroki sits closer to him (on his bed, on his bed)when they’re consulting each other briefly on Japanese history. Todoroki leans into his space more. Todoroki helps him pet a cat (suspiciously resembling the previous stray) by guiding his hand with warm, capable fingers, their arms pressed together limb to limb in one long contact point. No one even says anything when they pair up for sparring. No one looks like they’re surprised. Izuku must be imagining things.

And Izuku will probably implode, explode, or both. He was the one who essentially gallantly boasted he would be the kind one here and now Todoroki’s the one pampering him and now Izuku is completely at a loss because wow, one-sided like is kind of painful especially with the recipient doing his own version of doting. But it’s also pretty nice.

He isn’t sure how Todoroki thought he was kind in the first place, really.

Sure, he speaks formally, and he bows really low, and his voice can go pretty quiet. But sometimes he forgets to make his bed, and whenever Kacchan really makes him angry he could probably say a few things, and he runs Recovery Girl thin on patience, and he’s disobeyed Eraserhead multiple times, and All Might coughs up a lot of blood around him, and he always makes his mom worry and–well, Todoroki’s told him a few times too, how reckless he is. Todoroki’s face kind of changed this one time, recently, after he broke one of his fingers again.

A week after the not-confession:

“I’m not really living up to your expectations, I think,” Izuku mentions, off-handed, laughing nonchalantly. Inwardly, he’s seriously marveling at his personal failures. “I think I’m not as kind as you think I am after all.” What makes a person kind, even?

Todoroki looks up from his English homework and over at him. There are literally three inches separating them on the lounge’s couch. Izuku can feel the warmth radiating from him. Izuku can also feel the heat from the burning unrequited passion of youth. Good thing he’s all set for the coming winter.

“It’s not about being overtly kind,” Todoroki replies. “You’re always quite considerate.” He pauses. “And I didn’t particularly have any expectations.”

Well. That–okay.

“Those things you told me to expect last week,” Todoroki continues, “I assumed they were for granted. Since it’s your disposition.”

That’s…different but probably not better.

“You aren’t disappointed,” Izuku clarifies.

“No,” Todoroki answers. “This is comfortable.” And then, hesitantly, “Are you?”

Disappointed in himself? Or comfortable right now? To the former, sometimes, but Izuku gets the feeling it’s not really about himself–“Am I what?”

“Disappointed,” Todoroki says. “Right now.”

Well, if he could actually gather himself to confess for real, he’d probably have a better time. But right now, just being here with Todoroki is fine too. Todoroki is around him so often now that his heart can’t take it, but he will. Take it, that is. Whatever he can get. And Todoroki reclines against the couch; all of the hard lines have softened in his form, and he breathes so calmly that the air shifts peacefully. So, “No. I could never be disappointed,” Izuku answers, heartfelt.

“…Okay,” Todoroki says.

“Okay.”

Okay.

“I apologize,” Todoroki suddenly says.

Izuku blinks. and then momentarily panics because did he accidentally let something on? It was going so well? Todoroki did say this was comfortable but maybe Izuku has just made it uncomfortable and okay, he’s pretty good at that but he’s also good at apologizing too so–

“I also–apologize,” Izuku says quickly, but Todoroki holds up a hand.

“It has been a week,” Todoroki says, like he’s admitting something. “But on my end, I am new to this, so the protocol for…this sort of thing is not familiar to me. I was assuming you would take initiative like you did before.”

Izuku is so hilariously lost that his textbook slides off his lap and hits the hardwood with a resolute clunk.

“Take…initiative,” he repeats slowly.

“You’re new to this as well,” Todoroki notes.

Certainly, since he has no idea what’s going on.

What’s happening, Izuku thinks. “Todoroki-kun, what’s happening?” he repeats out loud.

“I’m embarrassing you again,” Todoroki sighs.

“No, I’m just…lost,” Izuku says. “I don’t really understand.” And the way Todoroki is frowning is painful; it’s a different kind of frown that is even more vulnerable, a frown specific to Izuku this time, he put that there, so he definitely has to fix it now. “I…think that you don’t have to be so troubled, Todoroki-kun.”

When the frown deepens, Izuku’s distance to panic mode decrements.

He mutters, “I’m really…bad at this.”

Todoroki grimaces. “I’m worse.”

“You’re not!” Izuku protests, immediately, and surprise flickers across Todoroki’s face. “Todoroki-kun, don’t look so troubled, really.”

He reaches out instinctively. Todoroki just said ‘I’m worse’ and if being kind was Izuku’s intention then he’s completely screwed up, and being as lost as he is currently is probably even more upsetting, so he clasps Todoroki’s shoulder, and he says, up close, confident, but also bullshitting, “I think being comfortable is more important. Whether it was last week or two weeks ago, you should…find your footing first.” Whatever it is. Izuku can also back off– “I can also–”

“Midoriya,” a soft sigh interrupts. “There you go again. Being kind.”

Wow, was Todoroki this close before? His right eye is grey like a maelstrom on the sea. And his left eye is startlingly blue like the sky and Izuku could probably count the flecks of light like clouds in them. And the lines of his scar have a story that only Izuku knows, and Todoroki isn’t angling that side of him away, and–

“Th-This isn’t even being–” Izuku splutters, but doesn’t finish.

Because Todoroki leans forward. and. kisses. him.

His brain does not short-circuit. In fact, it goes into overdrive. The brain controls blood flow, right? Well, thanks to his medulla, his face has enough blood to rival a blood bank. Todoroki is kissing him. Todoroki’s mouth is also very soft. And it is not half cold and half hot like he expected. It is warm. A very good temperature. And their noses are brushing and also as expected, Todoroki’s nose is not only shaped nicely up close and far away, but the feel of it against his own is also very nice. And Izuku should start kissing back around now. So he does. He presses forward experimentally because wow, maybe he misread this past week after all. So it was a confession that Todoroki accepted. So…they’re an item? So that means Todoroki really was sitting closer to him all those times and intentionally partnering up with him for sparring more often? But no one was surprised? That is an outlier and wow, okay, this change in angle is also an outlier, Todoroki said he was new to this but he just expertly deepened the kiss so what is really the truth–?

“Midoriya,” Todoroki says, ending the kiss, catching his breath, wiping his mouth. A mouth housing a tongue that was previously in Izuku’s own mouth, Izuku belatedly realizes.

Lewdly, a string of saliva breaks between them. His first kiss was not closed-mouth and chaste with his first love like he expected. (It was actually with his first All Might figurine anyway.)

“Yes,” Izuku answers breathlessly.

“You were…” Todoroki furrows his brow–and then he laughs. “You mumble.”

His laugh is like music. Maybe it could play at Izuku’s funeral.

“Sorry…but to make sure, Todoroki-kun,” Izuku says, “…likes me, right?”

Todoroki’s mouth opens. And then closes. And then opens again, before he leans back further and crosses his arms over his chest and sighs heavily and says, “Yes. I like you. Midoriya.”

Hero analysis for the future. Izuku needs to work on that. Seriously.

“I like you too,” Izuku returns quickly, and Todoroki shifts in pose, almost like he’s embarrassed, even if his face doesn’t show it.

“A lot,” Izuku adds, and Todoroki grimaces. Or that’s a smile. Izuku will treasure it either way.

“Glad that we’re on the same page then,” Todoroki finally says, even though Izuku only finally flipped to it ten seconds ago.

“Me too,” Izuku says. Todoroki probably doesn’t understand just how glad he is. He almost lived his entire life thinking his first successful love was actually unrequited.

Crisis averted.

“…Dinner then?” Izuku asks.

Todoroki smiles again. “Okay.”

This one is new.

This one is for Izuku only.

“Usually, most of them are,” Todoroki says.

Oh, he said that out loud.

#tododeku #bnha fic #writing #one-shot #anon #replies #prompt!#lol i wrote and edited this purely from my phone i'm sorry in advance for autocorrect and typos and anything that's lowercase when it's not #supposed to be lowercase #hopefully you like this warm anon!!!#periaske

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