Chapter Text
There is a routine in the Todoroki household. Something easy, second nature at this point, that Shouto slips into as soon as he crosses the threshold. An understanding- this is not your place. He was in this sprawling mansion by his father’s grace, his father’s generosity.
The thought of generous being applied to Enji Todoroki is laughable at best, but the man repeats it often enough that it sticks in Shouto’s mind like glue.
Shouto was a houseguest at most, a squatter at worst. If he wanted to continue living in luxury (What was luxury? When your life was spent cowering and recovering on repeat, did it really matter that the food was expensive?) he needed to pull his weight. And considering that he was his father’s prized possession, that meant rigorous physical training.
So, the moment his socked feet cross the threshold of his father’s home, Shouto begins to work. A quick snack, then his homework. Two hours maximum, but he rarely needs the whole allotted time, finishing up within the half hour. Pass by Fuyumi in the hall on the way to the front garden, exchange pleasantries. Her smile is warm, embrace cold, and she continues on past him to begin her share of the chores. He is alone for the next few hours, should today be a busy one for heroes.
So, as he rounds the corner of their sprawling home and towards his designated training area, Shouto has some time to think.
Honestly, he’s thought about it quite a bit, and Shouto has decided that he does not quite enjoy his own company.
Duplicitous by nature, an entity made entirely by contradictions. One minute he is full to the brim with anxiety that travels down his limbs like an electric shock, leaves him numb and reeling, and the next the full-body emptiness threatens to make him sink through the floor. One moment he’s shy, quiet, picture-perfect obedience just waiting for a command, and the next white-hot ( or is it red? ) anger leaves him lashing out at anything that moves, anything that dares to speak to him in such a state. The very literal burn-out that follows those episodes is enough to make him want to sleep for days.
But mood swings are unbecoming of the son of the number-two hero, and so Shouto creates a mask for himself. Only the good parts of himself are allowed to show, a blank icy mask permanently melting from the inside out.
Shouto Todoroki finds it very difficult to be alone.
Not that he doesn’t appreciate it- quite the opposite. With a family like the Todorokis, large in numbers and larger still with his father’s personality, solitude is a precious commodity.
In all honesty, the quietly buzzing insects and cool wind are incredibly peaceful. Or at least, they would be, if Shouto didn’t have to deal with the roiling emotions threatening to split him apart.
He sets up the battered, scorched training dummy leaning up against the side of the house, rolls up the sleeves of his uniform, and takes a fighting stance.
Quirk drills are easier than breathing at this point, body moving through the motions one after the other- ice, fire, ice, fire, one-two punch. Once again, Shouto has nothing but time to think.
A therapist. Worse yet- a school therapist. One who could read him as easily as one read the newspaper, yet for some reason asked his permission before doing so. Verbal confirmation wasn’t even a requirement for her quirk to work- and yet.
“Todoroki, how much do you know about my Quirk?” this is the third time Shouto has been called down to her office, but Dr. Nakayama’s kind smile still puts him on edge. Her hands sit folded gently on her lap, where a clipboard rests.
Shouto takes a moment to answer- he always does; when sorting through the panic in his head, finding words is a herculean task. “It’s an empathy-based Quirk, that requires either consent or a lack of awareness to work,” he pauses, stutters, realizing only now that such intimate knowledge of a woman he just met might be odd. “My father made me study several Pro Heroes during my training. Memorization of Quirks was a part of that.” His eyes dart away awkwardly.
“It’s amazing that you can remember things in that kind of detail! Flattering, too,” she laughs, hair bouncing slightly. (It’s up in a bun today, unlike the other times Shouto has been in her office. He idly wonders if it has any significance.) “I never would have thought a future star would study li’l ol’ me!”
He laughs politely at her terrible country accent. By his side, his left hand picks at the seams on the couch, giving away his restlessness.
Her laughter fades away when he fails to respond beyond that. Shouto can feel her eyes boring into his face, and he wills himself to keep his gaze down.
“Todoroki, if I may…” she pauses for a moment, bites her lip as if trying to find the words. “I understand that we may not be close enough for this to be comfortable, but I truly think that my Quirk could help me help you a lot easier.”
He says nothing.
“If you’re not comfortable with something like that, please feel free to tell me. I wouldn’t want to scare you off so quickly!” she laughs, sits back with an easygoing smile on her face. It’s disarming, to say the least, but calculated nonetheless. Shouto knows that smile. It’s the same one his mother would use to coax him into admitting to a mistake, so that she could punish him accordingly. It’s the same one that Endeavor could never perfect, spite shining through so brightly in his expression that Shouto’s mind and mouth would clamp up tight. Or maybe Shouto is just bad at reading expressions. It’s been too long for this silence to continue.
“I would prefer if you didn’t use your Quirk on me, if that’s alright,” he mumbles, still not looking up. Inwardly he cringes, bracing for the inevitable frustration that would surely ensue.
“It’s quite alright, Todoroki! I completely understand, and I won’t push it further unless you bring it up, okay?” Shouto startles slightly, finally looking up to meet her eyes. The smile is still there, but softened somewhat. Her teeth are slightly pointed at the ends, somewhat like Kirishima’s, and the comparison between the two in Shouto’s mind makes him calm, somewhat.
Despite that, this is still unprecedented. Unplanned. This… wasn’t how Shouto expected this situation would go, honestly. Usually, an adult would grow frustrated quickly, or begin shouting, or any manner of things to express their anger. Not… Open acceptance. This entire experience is completely unlike anything Shouto has gone through before.
The rest of the session passes by without much fanfare. The panic in his chest subsides after only a few minutes, and when Shouto returns to class he’s proud to say that his notes are understandable this time around. The day continues.
Shouto is struck from his reverie by a slight buzzing in his pocket. He wipes the sweat and gross sweat-ice-crystals from his forehead and reaches into the pocket of his pants. His phone lights up in his hand, showing a message from Midoriya.
From: Midoriya Izuku
hey todoroki !! r u busy this friday after school? Iida uraraka and i were gonna go to the outlet mall that just opened by iida’s house and ur welcome 2 join !! uraraka says hi btw lol
Attached is a picture of Uraraka’s face from the nose up, eyes crinkled in a smile. Behind her is Midoriya, reaching to take his phone back but still grinning, and Iida, whose arms are blurred in the still image. The sun shines brightly behind them, casting odd shadows on the trio’s faces.
Shouto regards the message for a moment before unlocking it and beginning to type.
From: You
sure
He hesitates before hitting send, finally turning to take a picture of the frosted-and-burnt training dummy he just got done massacring. Midoriya responds almost immediately.
From: Midoriya Izuku
iida says to not overuse ur quirk lol. c u @ school !!
Shouto shuts off his phone without responding. He returns to his fighting stance naturally, beginning his drills again at the same speed as before. Quirk exhaustion be damned, he’s going to make his father shell out for another training dummy before the night is over. It’s petty, sure, and the old man would probably be ‘proud’ of him, but. It’s the little victories.
For the rest of the night, Shouto’s mind is blessedly empty; save for a quiet excitement that he can’t quite place.
He falls asleep googling what an outlet mall is.