Chapter Text
The day started out normally. At least, as normal as things could get at UA in the aftermath of a war. Shouto was glad to be back in his familiar dorm room in Heights Alliance and after the chaos of the last year they were all looking forward to a bit of mundanity.
A small explosion from the floor below him jolted him awake. They’d been assigned to the same rooms they’d had as first years, which meant that he didn’t have to redo his tatami flooring. However, it also meant that he was still living directly above a human bomb constantly on the verge of exploding. Well, that wasn’t quite true anymore. Bakugou was still as loud and explosive as ever but he’d changed a lot since their first year. They all had.
Technically it had been two years since they’d entered the gates of UA to start their journey to become heroes. First year had merged into a war and the near collapse of hero society and in the aftermath, hero students around the country were called upon to provide additional support in the rebuilding efforts. By the time things were stable enough to move on, the Ministry of Education had decided to wait until April to officially start the new school year. They’d had some classes during what would have been the winter term to brush up on academic subjects that had been set aside out of necessity during the war and even students like Kaminari and Ashido who usually hated studying had seemed grateful for the return to normalcy.
Outside of classes, they’d still been assigned to patrols to fill in the gaps left by many pro heroes so, despite the fact that most of them had been staying at the dorms intermittently for the sake of convenience, there hadn’t been much time for socializing. Shouto also had his own things to deal with, considering his family situation. The therapist who had been assigned to his case suggested that he not continue his work study under his father, at least for the time being, so Shouto had ended up at Best Jeanist’s agency with Bakugou.
It had turned out to be a surprisingly good fit. Shouto had learned a lot and found himself laughing often at Best Jeanist’s attempts to tame Bakugou’s explosive hair and personality. Bakugou, for his part, had taken extreme offense to the Fiber Hero’s borderline obsession with Shouto’s “stupid pretty boy hair” and took every opportunity to reach up and ruffle the red and white strands together. Shouto couldn’t explain why he enjoyed this so much. Maybe because despite the shouting that usually accompanied the rough gesture, it felt familiar, comforting when he had so long been starved for physical affection.
Bakugou was also one of the few people who didn’t treat him like glass whenever the subject of his family came up. He was clearly aware of Shouto’s complicated feelings and was open about his own disdain for Endeavor but he didn’t look at Shouto with pity or ask if he was okay for the millionth time like the rest of their classmates had for months after Touya’s broadcast. He seemed content to be there and always seemed to know what Shouto needed, whether it was a bickering match about who had rounded up more villains on patrol, a reassuring touch on the shoulder, or a crackle of sparks in front of his face to jolt him out of his spiraling thoughts.
Maybe that explained why Shouto found the explosions oddly comforting. A second blast sounded from the floor below; Kirishima must have slept through his alarm again. There was more banging, threats from Bakugou, a loud but cheerful greeting from Kirishima, then a shout from Iida who had apparently raced up from his room on the third floor to admonish Bakugou for using his quirk in the dorm and to make sure everyone got to class on time.
“We’re fucking going!” Bakugou yelled, “You’re the one who’s gonna be late, Four-Eyes!”
Shouto smiled as he grabbed his bag and headed out the door. Sero, who happened to be leaving his room at the same time, grinned at him and nodded in the direction of the yelling, “Good to be back, huh?”
Shouto nodded and followed him downstairs. When they arrived in the common room, Iida was waving his arms frantically, trying to get everyone to leave together, to which Bakugou was loudly protesting, despite the fact that he had just dragged Kirishima downstairs with the obvious intention of ensuring his punctuality.
“What’s Blasty shouting about so early?” Ashido said through a yawn as she and the rest of the girls joined them at the entryway.
Shouto just shrugged and let his eyes wander back to Bakugou, who caught his gaze for a moment before Midoriya unwisely popped up behind him with a cheerful, “Morning, Kacchan!”
Things had definitely changed between the two of them and while they had mostly repaired their formerly rocky relationship to the point that they might actually be considered friends, that didn’t stop Bakugou from regularly exploding at Midoriya for seemingly random things.
“The fuck is this?” Bakugou asked, rounding on Midoriya. He yanked on Midoriya’s badly done tie, causing him to squeak in alarm. “You can save the goddamn world but you can’t learn to tie a fucking tie?”
Then to everyone’s bewilderment, Bakugou unlooped the messy fabric and re-tied it perfectly in seconds.
“T-thanks, Kacchan!”
“Tch. Whatever, nerd. Don’t be late.”
“Woah, Bakugou-kun! I didn’t know you were so good at that!” Uraraka exclaimed.
Midoriya’s face flushed bright red as she grabbed his tie and leaned in close to examine Bakugou’s handiwork.
“Hah?! Why wouldn’t I be good at it, Round Face?” I’m not fucking De- Izuku.”
Everyone graciously declined to comment on his stumble over Midoriya’s name. Even though Midoriya said repeatedly that he didn’t mind the nickname anymore and had even adopted it as his hero name, Shouto knew it was a weird point of pride with Bakugou to use Midoriya’s given name ever since his apology unless they were in the field. Something to do in equal part with his guilt at the way he’d treated Midoriya over the years and his desire to disprove Midoriya’s suggestion that it might be too challenging to break the habit of calling him “Deku”.
Uraraka, however, seemed determined to feed the chaos this morning because she tilted her head at Bakugou and asked, “Then why do you never wear your tie?”
No one was surprised by the resulting explosion or the responding shout of “Gunhead Martial Arts!” that followed.
They eventually made it out the doors and Shouto let the chatter wash over him. He’d never been much of a morning person and he was grateful for Momo’s calm presence when she fell into step with him, letting their more excitable classmates pull ahead. They’d become closer over the past year as well and she was one of the few people outside of his family who called him by his given name, aside from the context of his hero name. His head felt a little fuzzier than normal and he found himself rubbing absentmindedly at his nose as she talked about a new seasonal tea she wanted to try.
It wasn’t until they reached the main walkway at the school’s entrance and he saw Hagakure and Ashido twirling and squealing in delight at the cherry blossom-lined path that he remembered why he hated spring.
Shouto cursed himself and his own stupidity as his classmates chattered excitedly about the delicate pink petals dancing above their heads. He’d been allergic to cherry blossoms since he was a kid but for some reason he always forgot until sakura season rolled around. Usually, Fuyumi remembered before he did and would set out a dose of antihistamines on the first day the flowers bloomed but this was the first year he’d been in the dorms during spring. Last year he’d been in the hospital, too occupied with thoughts of Touya and his family to think about much else. This year though, the cherry blossoms had bloomed sometime over the weekend and it seemed like mother nature was intent on driving home the symbolism of renewal and hope for the start of the first new school year since the war. The trees were layered with the transient pink blossoms and at this rate they would be nearing their peak bloom by the weekend. Up ahead, the girls had already started discussing plans for a class hanami picnic.
Shouto sighed inwardly and pressed his knuckles beneath his nose in an attempt to relieve the uncomfortable itch that crept into his sinuses. He supposed that the reason he hadn’t noticed the first faint blossoms was because there were (thankfully) no sakura trees directly outside the dorms where they had all spent the entire weekend settling back in and, at Iida’s insistence, cleaning the common areas from top to bottom in preparation for the new year.
He considered running back to the dorms to see if he could find any allergy medicine, though he was almost certain he hadn’t packed any, but they were almost at the classroom and he wasn’t about to risk incurring Aizawa Sensei’s wrath on the first day back. He would just have to tough it out. But the opening ceremony was in the courtyard, which had an entirely unnecessary amount of cherry blossom trees. After barely five minutes of standing there, Shouto’s nose was itching like crazy despite his attempts to breathe as little as possible. He had no idea what Nedzu was saying, beyond the general welcome to the new students, acknowledgement of the past year’s struggles, and the determined resolve and renewed purpose they would all need in order to move forward.
For a moment, Shouto wondered how he’d made it through this during his first year but, upon reflection, he realized that a) there hadn’t been nearly this many trees - someone had definitely gone overboard with the need for symbolism when they restored the campus in the aftermath, and b) he’d been in a protective antihistamine-induced fog at the time. That, and he hadn’t cared to interact with the other students back then so he hadn’t really worried about anyone noticing that he was feeling off. Now though, it might be a problem.
Beside him Midoriya was bouncing on the balls of his feet slightly, clearly excited for everything the new school year had in store. Shouto felt a warmth in his chest at the sight. Though Midoriya would never admit it, the past year had taken a toll on him and Shouto was glad that his friend was able to smile again. He was less pleased though, when Midoriya glanced over at him and his observant green eyes widened thoughtfully because apparently this damn allergy was causing his usual mask of indifference to slip.
“Todoroki-kun, is everything okay?”
Shouto realized belatedly that he’d been rubbing his nose again. Not trusting himself to speak, he simply nodded. Then to his relief Iida, who was standing on Midoriya’s other side, nudged him and shot them both a look that clearly said “Be quiet and pay attention. We must show the school that Class 2-A is a class that will respect and uphold this fine institution of learning”. They both turned their attention forward but Shouto was momentarily distracted again. Bakugou was standing a bit further over in the row in front of them. He was still facing the stage where Nedzu was rambling but his head was turned slightly and he gave Shouto a questioning look before rolling his eyes and facing forward again.
Through sheer force of will, Shouto made it through the rest of the opening ceremony without incident. As they were dismissed to their classes he stifled a few sneezes into his fist but fortunately no one heard him above the movement and chatter and he was able to sneak away to blow his nose before heading back to class.
The rest of the morning was slightly more tolerable once he was back inside the air-conditioned comfort of the classroom and he managed to make it through classes without drawing attention to himself. It helped that he sat in the back where he could rub his nose discreetly while pretending to rest his head on his hand as he took notes. Momo probably noticed when he gave into a few stifled sneezes midway through History of Heroics but she’d been kind enough not to say anything.
The afternoon training session, however, was another story. Aizawa led them to one of the training grounds at the edge of campus where they were subjected to a Plus-Ultra version of the quirk apprehension test they’d done in first year. In addition to the standard trials, they were given tests unique to their quirks to establish a new baseline for output or endurance.
The first part of the assessment was relatively straightforward and Shouto was able to make it through without much trouble. He was a little off the mark with his firepower but he had improved enough over the past year that the small dip in performance wasn’t noticeable to anyone, except perhaps Bakugou, who had spent nearly every day in the field with him for the past few months.
The second part of the day’s training was a giant obstacle course designed to test their speed, agility, observation, and problem solving. The objective, Aizawa explained, was to clear the course as efficiently as possible, using a variety of field skills. Speed was important but the exercise was not strictly about getting the fastest time. There would be certain points where pausing to use reconnaissance skills or slowing down to assess the situation could make up the time one might otherwise gain by rushing ahead.
“Also,” Aizawa looked pointedly at Bakugou before adding, “You are not allowed to help, hinder, or otherwise interfere with the others in your group.”
Predictably, Bakugou rolled his eyes at this, then declared that he would have an indisputable victory. As luck would have it, Shouto ended up in the first group with Bakugou, along with Momo and Tokoyami. Bakugou grinned at Shouto with a familiar gleam in his eyes.
“Show me what you’ve got, Half and Half.”
If he’d been feeling better, Shouto would have come up with some kind of snarky response but after spending over an hour outside, albeit further away from the cherry blossoms than this morning, he was too preoccupied with the unrelenting itch in his nose and the vague wish that he had a quirk that could temporarily eliminate his need to breathe.
He wasn’t too worried about being able to perform well, even teetering on the brink of an allergy attack. After all, he’d trained with Endeavor for his whole life before UA and, for better or worse, there was no way his father would have allowed him to use something as pathetic as an allergy as an excuse for anything less than perfection. He knew he could count on adrenaline to carry him through the exercise and sure enough, his symptoms temporarily vanished when he sprang into action at the starting whistle.
Even though Aizawa had emphasized that they were being scored on all skills, not just speed, nothing would stop their class from making this into a race. The course was well-designed to challenge each of them, with the possibility of alternate routes for those who were able to make swift use of advanced reconnaissance skills. Shouto and Bakugou were evenly matched in this type of arena and while Tokoyami lacked firepower, his flight ability with Dark Shadow had gotten even better over the past few months and he overtook them easily in close quarters with precision flying where Bakugou’s explosions and Shouto’s ice were more hindrance than anything else.
Momo also did exceptionally well and caught up with the rest of them soon enough after sacrificing some time at the beginning to create a pair of jet thrusters and grappling hooks that were remarkably similar to some of Hatsume Mei’s “babies”. She took the lead briefly after a puzzle section that involved a series of locks and boxes. Bakugou, on the other hand, was given a 30-second penalty for blowing up the first lock because he hadn’t noticed the nearby sign that outlined the scenario, which was that one of the wooden boxes contained a hypothetical bomb that they needed to locate and disarm. He spent the entire penalty time cursing loudly and Shouto, who arrived at that station a few seconds later and actually read the instructions before diving in, smirked at Bakugou before using his ice to pick the locks and freeze the dummy bomb.
Even so, the final stretch of the course turned into a flat out race between the two of them and Shouto could feel Bakugou’s frustration at the “no interfering with other participants” rule as he growled vague threats of death and destruction in Shouto’s general direction. In the end, Bakugou rocketed forward with a well-timed blast and crossed the finish line a split second before Shouto, with the others not far behind.
They all bent forward, breathing hard, but Shouto felt himself struggling more than usual. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off he was beginning to feel the full effects of the pollen he’d inhaled during the race. His eyes burned and it was suddenly impossible to breathe through his nose.
As expected, Bakugou shouted loudly about his victory and issued a challenge to the rest of the class to try to beat his time. However, when he stomped back to where Shouto was still doubled over trying to catch his breath he didn’t yell at him for not putting up a proper fight. Instead he tossed a towel at Shouto’s head and, when he looked up in surprise, flung a water bottle at him.
“Consolation prize for you, Halfie.”
Shouto forced his face into what he hoped was a neutral expression as Bakugou gave him an appraising look.
“You just gonna sit there until the next group runs us over?”
“Maybe,” Shouto said because even now, he couldn’t resist antagonizing Bakugou.
Bakugou rolled his eyes and gave a “tch,” of annoyance then turned to walk back to the rest of the group. Shouto trailed after him, hoping that Bakugou wouldn’t look back to see him sneezing into the towel as he went.
Back in his room, Shouto rummaged through his things, hoping to find some allergy pills even though he didn’t remember packing any. He hated the drowsy, foggy feeling they gave him but anything was better than this. After training, he had intentionally taken his time in order to avoid walking back with the rest of the class. He’d sneezed at least a dozen times on the short walk to the dorms and had retreated to his room without a word before anyone could see what a mess he was.
After 10 minutes of fruitless searching, interrupted by several more sneezes, he gave up and dialed Fuyumi’s number.
“Shouto!” her cheerful voice chirped through the speaker, “I wasn’t expecting you to call. How was the first day back?”
“It was fine. I just…” he trailed off, suddenly unsure what to say. They were getting better at talking about things instead of brushing them out of sight but he still had trouble asking for help. It was actually quite stupid in this case, seeing as Fuyumi was the one who’d been giving him allergy meds for years, but he still didn’t like making her worry. Before he could reply though, his body decided for him and he sneezed, barely managing to turn his head in time to muffle the sound into his sleeve.
“Oh, Shouto, are your allergies bothering you?”
“Yeah.”
There wasn’t any point in denying it. It was the reason he’d called after all, plus he knew he wasn’t done sneezing. Even though he had changed his clothes and was in the AC, he’d inhaled a lot of pollen during training and on the walk back so it would probably take a while to get it out of his system.
“It’s really bad today, huh?” Fuyumi asked after three more half-stifled sneezes.
“We had training outside,” Shouto grumbled, “And the opening ceremony was in the courtyard and apparently the new sakura trees know how to be ‘Plus Ultra’ because UA is a freaking hanami postcard right now.”
Fuyumi giggled then tutted in concern as he sneezed again, unstifled this time. They were getting harder to hold back the more exhausted he got.
“Are the meds not helping?”
“I forgot them,” he admitted, “Do you have any of the prescription ones at the house?”
“Let me check.”
He heard her moving through the house as he took a seat at his desk. He found a half empty pack of tissues and pressed one over his nose. His breath hitched and he gave into a few more sneezes.
“Were you like this during training?” she asked as she opened cabinets and drawers.
“No, I was mostly okay until after.”
He recounted the training exercise and she laughed a little when he got to the part about Bakugou and the lock section.
“You two always seem to end up together, hmm?”
Shouto rolled his eyes. Fuyumi had been making comments like this ever since Bakugou had invited him to join him at Best Jeanist’s. He generally ignored it but her comments weren’t helping him figure out the confusing feelings that started to surface whenever he thought about Bakugou these days.
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing,” he said, “Although he was less of an asshole about winning than usual so I guess that’s something.”
Fuyumi laughed again then said apologetically, “Sorry, Shouto. I think we’re out of your meds. You must have used them up last time and it slipped my mind since you’re not living at home right now.”
“It’s fine.” He grimaced at the congestion in his voice.
“I’ll put in an order for a refill but it’ll take a couple of days,” she said, “You should probably pick up some of the over the counter stuff for now. I know it doesn’t really work for you but it should help a little.”
“Thanks, Nee-san.”
Shouto ended the call, then immediately sneezed again. He groaned. He already knew that the first aid kit downstairs had only basic painkillers. Apparently, no one, himself included, had thought to buy antihistamines when they had restocked. He was definitely not looking forward to the next couple of days.