Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Katsuki's POV:

Katsuki loved fighting. To him, it was his escape. A reminder that he didn't need anyone to back him up. He was the strongest. He was the best, and it had always been so, even when he was a kid.

That's probably why he took an interest in high physical contact sports at a very young age. He remembered the first time he'd seen boxing on TV. He remembered watching, as a man known as 'All Might' was crowned as the world champion. He remembered the match in such clarity that it was as if he was a kid again, watching it play out on the TV as his mother sat on the couch behind him, elbows to her knees and torso tilted forward in anticipation. 

Katsuki knew in that moment that he wanted to be just like All Might, he wanted to surpass him and to be the very best. One day, he'd walk up on that stage and he'd receive that title after defeating the strongest, or, rather, second strongest man in the world. And when Katsuki became set on something, it was impossible to stop him. He was like a bull, nostrils flared and head bowed, ready to charge at anything that stood in his way. 

After that day and lots of begging on his part, his mom had finally decided to surprise him for his 5th birthday with lessons at one of the best MMA academies in the country; the UA Fight Club.

Being in the best fight club Japan had to offer came with a boatload of pressure and expectations however, with his parents having high hopes of him and his coaches being critical of his form and technique. Day after day, Katsuki worked hard, sticking to a strict workout regimen and diet to build his body into an iron-clad killing machine. Within three months, little Katsuki had found himself an invite onto the junior competitive team, where his workload only continued to increase. His life revolved entirely around the sport, eating and drinking was now simply a way to fuel his body and build strength, he kept strict sleep schedules to optimize recovery, and he always stayed on top of his workouts, tracking his progress and adding weight or reps where needed.

By the time he'd reached the age of 13, he was already competing for world titles in his age range, taking down every opponent who stood in his way. He was the best, with an undefeated winning streak. This continued well into his later years of the sport, now 21 years old and still standing as an undefeated champion: a legend, said to be greater than All Might himself. Of course, that fight would never come to fruition, so it was just theory. All Might had retired shortly after Katsuki’s career as 'Dynamight' had begun.

This life was great, sure, or at least he'd try to convince himself of that. Well, it had been great for a while. He loved the fighting, he loved being the best and the pride and confidence which came with it. The only thing that had really become a thorn in his side was the damn paparazzi, always getting in his face and trying to dig up more on his personal life. There was nothing interesting to him other than fighting and being the best, and he'd told them as much. What else could they want from him?

That was how he'd ended up in this room with his mom, pestering him about his non-existent love life.

"Don't you ever think about settling down? Finding a nice girl? I won't be around to look after you forever."

He scoffed in indignation. "I can look after myself just fine, calm down mom. Did fuckin' Enji put you up to this? I swear that old windbag needs to get off my ass-"

She rolled her eyes and smacked him over the back of the head, only earning an unimpressed glare from Katsuki. "He is your media manager, he's the one who has to put up with all your public stunts and make you look presentable, which is not an easy job. You wouldn't be half as popular as you are now if he didn't hide your shitty personality from the public as much as he has."

"I don't fucking care about the fans or my reputation! I just want to fight. I'm already the best, what more does he want?"

"Gee, sorry, I forgot I raised an ungrateful brat!" His mom exclaimed, getting up from the couch and giving him a hard stare. He didn't flinch or back down, giving her the same unyielding stare straight back.

"Honey?" A calmer voice interjected, ending the staring match the two had going on. Katsuki’s mom sighed, relaxing her shoulders and turning to face her husband, Masaru, who had a phone in hand. "Yes? Is something the matter?"

He slowly made eye contact with Katsuki, though it was fleeting as his gaze turned back to his wife. "Mr. Todoroki is on the phone, he'd like to speak with Katsuki."

The young man in question hardened his glare. "Tell the prick I'm not home."

His words were followed by an angry flurry of curse words from the other line, and his father winced. Katsuki groaned, getting up and snatching the phone out of his father's hands rather roughly. "What do you want?"

"I want to know why you've been ignoring my calls. Seriously, Bakugo? Can't you have even an ounce of respect? I'm the sole reason you've been this successful so far, if people were to know your true personality you'd be back at the bottom again. I had to cover up for you again last night, because you decided a 5 o'clock interview on the national news was too much to ask? Are you serious, what were you even doing?"

"Training." He grunted, fighting back the urge to yell at Enji. It always seemed to piss him off more when he acted like he didn't care. "It was rush hour, you seriously think I was going to go out of my way to make that?"

"Your arrogance never fails to amaze me. You're going to destroy your image, I can only pay off so many reporters, and frankly you do not make me enough money to continue on this stupid game. You know what they found last week? Video surveillance of you beating on three guys on the street! You could have been arrested! Do you know what that would do to your image?"

"They deserved it." He replied in a nonchalant tone, though he could feel his jaw tighten with annoyance. "Is there any reason why you're lecturing me right now?" He leaned back against the doorframe between the kitchen and the living room, glaring at his mother when she tried to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Yes, actually, because it seems karma has finally bit you in the ass. Someone leaked footage of the incident to a radio station and they’re threatening to air it. I paid them off for now, but do you understand what this means? If this gets out, your image will be ruined . Even worse, if it gets to authorities, it will put a stain on your criminal record, which means you will be withdrawn from all fights and rankings for this year. You won't be able to fight anymore."

Katsuki ground his teeth together, feeling a vein in his forehead pop. "Ok, and what am I supposed to do about that? You fix it. That's your job, isn't it? That's what I'm paying you for."

"Oh, no." He replied, and Katsuki could practically hear the shit-eating smirk growing on his face. "Not anymore. If you don't tidy up your act, I'm quitting as your manager and I won’t be paying them off anymore. That kind of media will destroy your career and your life. You don’t make me enough money to keep them off your back forever.”

Part of him felt his heart sink, but the other part was in denial. Nothing bad could happen to him, he was Katsuki Bakugo, the greatest boxer of all time, better than All Might.

But the other more logical side of him knew. He wasn't stupid-- he knew his career was hanging by mere threads. One more mistake would be all it took for him to go crashing down. Who would take his place after he fell? Midoriya? He tightened his grip on the phone at the thought, feeling it shift underneath his grip. He couldn’t let that happen. Not in a million years.

"Fine." He grumbled, picking at the threads of his shirt, clearly unhappy about his predicament. "How the hell am I supposed to make more money, then?"

He almost regretted asking when he heard Enji's chuckle from the other end. That man never laughed-- he already knew he was doomed before he'd even spoken.

"You're going to get engaged."

"What?" He asked, his tone dripping with poison. Enji couldn't be serious.

"You heard me. News like this will be the only thing big enough to cover up your mistake and make me enough money to keep paying those damn reporters off. This is your last chance. Meet me at noon tomorrow, on the dot. If you're even a minute late, I quit. Deal?"

"Fuck you." He hissed, slamming the phone down and hanging up. He was trapped, backed into a corner with nowhere else to go. He felt like he was losing control, and he hated it. He needed to calm down before he hit something-- or someone.

"Where are you going, what did he say?" His mom pried the second he grabbed his keys, making a break for the door.

"Don't worry about it." He sneered, giving her a look that told her to mind her business before slamming the door shut. He got onto his motorcycle and plugged the key into the ignition, turning it on. He pulled the clutch in, shifting down into first and revving the engine before he took off, his mind set onto the only place where his heart felt truly at peace.

Chapter Text

Katsuki’s POV:

"Fuckin' asshole Enji, thinking he can dictate what I can do.." Katsuki grumbled early the next morning, shovelling down his breakfast with a forcefulness that startled his father and caused his mother to scold him, saying something along the lines of how he'd choke if he kept eating like a pig. Honestly, he could care less about what his mother thought in that moment: he wasn't paying attention anyways, mind restlessly flitting between punching Enji's face in and keeping his career. Would it really be worth it to destroy his career over a loveless arranged marriage?

It wasn't like Katsuki ever planned on having a real relationship anyways, maybe they could just ignore each other for the most part? Or fake some sort of breakup after the assault incident had settled like the dust under his bed..  Speaking of, he should really dust his room. He’d been so caught up in his career drama that he hadn’t cleaned his room in over a week.

He was out of time to think, noticing the clock had struck 11:31. He groaned, begrudgingly getting out of his chair and heading out of the house. He bid his parents a grumbled ‘bye’, then got onto his motorcycle and started it up again.

By the time he got to the building, he had about 10 minutes to spare (read: he made more than a few traffic violations), which gave him time to find a solid parking lot and stare at the building for a long minute. It was tall, extravagantly so, and Katsuki’s nose crinkled in distaste. He'd always hated how unnecessarily lavish Enji's style was. The man refused to dress in anything that wasn't brand name, and Bakugou could swear he had literally every belt that Gucci had ever produced. Even his cologne must have cost hundreds of dollars, it was Yves Saint Laurent or Dior or something like that. Katsuki thought it smelled like something one of those creeps in a mid-class bar with cheap booze would wear.

Glancing at the time and realizing he'd already spent 3 minutes thinking to himself, he pushed himself off his bike, helmet loosely dangling from his fingertips as he made his way in, nodding at the receptionist who already knew him by name and what he was there for.

"Same room as usual." She muttered out, barely sparing him a glance. She, along with every other sane worker in the building, knew how pointless it was to strike up a conversation with the blonde. He was drier than a box of matches and just as quick to light.

Katsuki only grunted in acknowledgement, stepping into the elevator across the hall and hitting the button for the top floor, which led directly to Enji's office. The elevator chimed softly, bringing him up the levels. He shoved his hands into his pockets, rolling his shoulders back and squaring his posture in almost the same way he would for a fight. At least he could find joy in a real physical fight.

Before long, the elevator chimed again, announcing Katsuki’s presence. As the doors opened, he took a step into the office, taking in his surroundings.

The first thing he heard was some sort of arguing from around the corner, and he quirked a brow, debating if he should insert himself or not.

Curiosity got the better of him, and after all Enji had been the one to invite him at this time, so really it was his fault more than anything. He poked around the corner, slowly so as to not make himself known immediately. It had to have been pretty heated if they didn't even hear him come up.

Enji was sitting at his desk, an intimidating aura emanating from him. Katsuki couldn't help but quirk a brow, not having seen him look this spiteful before. Then, his eyes drifted downward to the slightly smaller figure sitting in the chair which Bakugou normally sat in.

The first thing that caught his eye was his hair; red on one side, white on the other. He almost rolled his eyes. What was he, one of those emo kids? He dismissed it. What Katsuki really wanted to know was what exactly they were talking about so heatedly.

"-going to do exactly as I say. I don't want to hear any complaints."

A pause, then a long, dejected sigh. "Yes, father."

Bakugou caught a glimpse of the clock and sighed. He'd better make his presence known now if he didn't want to risk losing his job over a minute. He stepped around the corner, both men casting a glance at him. "Am I interrupting?"

"No, not at all." Enji looked at the clock, scoffing a bit when he realized Katsuki was actually on time for once. "Come on in, Shoto here was just leaving."

The man with the two-toned hair stood, giving Enji a chilling glare before turning to fully analyze Katsuki, his blue eyes piercing into his soul- wait, blue and grey? This kid had different eye colors too? And why the hell was he staring like that? Katsuki already didn't like him.

"Hey, you got a staring problem, half and half?" Not his best insult, he admitted, but it would do the trick.

To his surprise, the man didn't react to his jab or even throw a witty reply back. He just.. stood there, unbothered. Katsuki felt his eye twitch in annoyance. "Hey, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Just wondering why your hair looks like a biohazard."

Katsuki’s jaw dropped, and he swore he'd have strangled the boy right there if Enji hadn't intervened. "Shoto. Leave now." He boomed, and the boy shrugged before he left, taking the elevator back down.

"Ignore him. He's socially inept. Anyways, the engagement. Come take a seat."

Katsuki glowered at the man, refusing to move from his spot in an act of defiance. Enji glared back at him. "Sit." He demanded icily. Katsuki didn't want to, but he also knew the consequences if he didn't. So, begrudgingly, he sat, staring at the man as if he'd stabbed his entire family.

"Now, the engagement.. We have another woman working under us who is also at risk of damaging her image, so we've decided it'd be mutually beneficial for both of you to get engaged, seeing as your careers are both on the line here-"

"There's really no other option?" Katsuki interrupted, searching for a way out.

"I gave you a choice, and you made it."

"That was hardly a choice." He scowled, debating if murdering Enji was worth spending the rest of his life in prison.

"Well, it looks like all that fame and glory does come at a cost after all, doesn't it?" He grinned almost sadistically, and Katsuki’s fingers twitched. It was definitely worth it.

"Fuck you." He seethed, slumping back in his chair. There really was no way for him to escape this.

Enji ignored him, smoothing out some papers on his desk and pushing them across to Katsuki. "This here is the file on your new fiance. Her name is Kyouka Jirou, lead singer of Stellar Shock. Shoto should be bringing her up soon so the two of you can officially meet."

"I've never seen this chick in my life." He grumbled, kicking his feet up on Enji's desk with a loud thud. Katsuki couldn't help but smirk at the way his eye twitched.

"How uncultured can you be? They're one of the fastest rising bands in Japan, and do not put your feet on my desk like some barbarian."

"You sound like a little fangirl. And I don't care how famous she is, she looks like another one of those emo kids."

Enji ran a hand down his face. "This is going to be impossible to pull off."

The elevator chimed with the sound of someone else's arrival, and both their heads tilted to see who it was. As expected, Jirou and Shoto walked into the office, Katsuki narrowing his eyes in distaste at both of them. Jirou sneered at the sight of him. "You better be joking. This guy? Mr. Todoroki, everyone knows this guy's unstable. Do you have any idea what this will do for my image?"

"You made your choice." He replied coolly, to which she scowled. "Not without complaint.."

Katsuki eyed her with clear judgement. "You're even more emo in real life."

She looked at him distastefully. “Emo?”

He smirked. Maybe he could make a little bit of fun out of this mess he'd found himself in. "You heard me. And what the hell's up with Candy Cane over there? Christmas isn't for another 3 months."

The boy in question stared blankly at him, his eyes piercing him once again. He expected another smart answer, but nothing came of it. Katsuki did not like being ignored. "Stupid. What are you, deaf?"

"No." He replied coolly. This guy was drier than the Sahara and somehow still managed to tear at the blonde's last nerve. He scoffed, turning away from him and back to Enji.

"What the hell is he even doing here, Enji? He dumb?"

Enji sighed, running a calloused hand down the front of his face and feeling his stubble prick at his fingertips. "No. This is my son, Shoto. He's your new media manager while I'm gone on vacation."

"What?! Since when are you going on vacation?! I'm paying you, you work for ME!"

Enji glowered at him, trying to keep himself from throwing the blonde out of his office window. "No, you signed a contract which nowhere stated that you were my boss. If anything, I'm your boss. You work under me, the second you signed that contract you signed your rights and decisions away to my firm. I manage your entire career, you simply get in the ring and put on a show. You are nothing more than a performer to make me money."

Katsuki lunged out of his chair, reaching for Enji, but was quickly stopped by a surprisingly strong grip as Candy Cane shoved his head down into the flat wooden surface of the desk, locking the blonde's hands behind his back and twisting them painfully.

"Ow! Hey, what the hell?!" He grunted, trying to pry his hands out of his grip. It was no use however, as the smaller man somehow had him pinned. How was that even possible? His mind raced with a sudden flood of insecurity and self doubt. He was the best, wasn't he? How had he been so easily taken down by this guy who was half his size? Was he on some kind of performance drugs? "Let me go!" He growled, trying to rip his hands free, only to wince in pain when the pressure worsened.

"The more you struggle, the worse it'll hurt." Shoto almost smirked, and he might have if he wasn't so determined to keep up his cold front in front of his father. Katsuki scowled, hearing the way his tone lifted ever so slightly. "Hey! The hell are you laughing for?!"

"I'm not."

"You can't seriously expect me to get engaged to this buffoon.." Jirou muttered from his side, watching as he struggled pitifully against Todoroki's grip. "He's even more insufferable in real life. Can't you pick anyone else?" Her tone took on that of a pleading one, something akin to sadness flashing in her eyes.

"I don't believe it would be unreasonable to order a shock collar for this one." Shoto spoke up, leaning leisurely as if it took absolutely no effort to hold the raging blonde down.

"Ooh, yes, I second that. Can I use the remote?"

"What the hell is wrong with BOTH of you?!" He shouted, reminding Shoto of a small dog biting at someone's pant leg.

Enji felt a vein explode in his forehead. "You three better learn to get along while I'm gone, otherwise you will all be facing consequences when I return, understand?"

"I'm not letting Santa's Helper dictate how I live my life, so you can forget that right n- OW! HEY!" Bakugou quit struggling, not that he could move much anymore anyways.

"Yes, sir." Shouto replied smoothly, and Jirou sighed dejectedly. "..Yes, sir."

"Good. Now get out of my office, I'm sick of your bickering."

Immediately after the meeting, Bakugou found himself at the boxing gym once again, taking everything out on the bag in front of him. "That fucking PRICK!! Who does he think he is?" He yelled, delivering blow after blow to the bag while his coach stood off to the side, taking a puff from his cigarette. "You're stiff. Loosen your shoulders, they're lagging behind and causing you to lose power."

"I didn't ask you." He growled, but adjusted his form anyways, cleaning up his footwork as well. Truth be told, the reason he was lagging behind so much was because he was sore. He'd been overexerting himself recently in an attempt to get himself out of his own head, and being restrained by Two Face didn't help either. After beating on the bag for as long as he could, he stepped back, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his arm and tearing his gloves off, grabbing his water and taking a long gulp. He leaned against the wall, glancing at his coach who made his way over and took the spot on the wall next to him.

"Wanna talk about it?" He offered, and Katsuki sighed, his shoulders slumping. His coach was the one person he felt like he could really open up to, as he'd already seen all his weaknesses and helped correct them and guide him along the right path. This man knew him like no other, and he respected him immensely, something that couldn't be said about most people. But.. he wasn't ready to talk about this yet. He only wanted to take his mind off it right now.

"No." He grumbled, leaning down and grabbing his shirt from the floor, pulling it back over his head and grimacing when it immediately stuck to his sweaty skin. "I think I'm just gonna go for a jog and head home."

His coach nodded. "Sounds like a good plan. Get some rest, Katsuki. You've already been training for 4 hours anyways, it's time for a break. Your next fight is in two weeks, so we need to make sure you're in top shape."

"Relax, old man." He shot him a confident grin. "I'll win anyways."

The coach rolled his eyes. "Someone's gonna put you in your place one of these days."

"I'd like to see them try."

The coach shook his head, unable to hide the small smile that tugged at his mouth. "You’ve always been too confident for your own good. Now, go get some rest. I’ll see you later."

"See ya."

Heading out into the parking lot, he pulled his helmet over his head, swinging his leg over the side of his motorcycle. He was about to turn the bike on but stopped when he felt an odd sensation prickling at the back of his neck. Like someone was watching him. He turned around, scanning the lot behind him to find that it was entirely empty aside from a grey Toyota Camry, a blue Ford Maverick, and a black Range Rover. The first two clearly had nobody in them, and the black Range Rover was entirely blacked out with tint. He shrugged it off. Probably his imagination, today had been an odd day after all. He also couldn't help but feel like the car looked just a little bit familiar, but he put that aside too. Maybe he'd seen it here before when he came for training. It could just as easily be another client's car.

He started up his motorcycle, revving the engine and tearing out of the parking lot, unaware of the set of bright blue eyes that followed his figure out of the lot.

Chapter Text

Shouto's POV:

He gazed at himself in the mirror, watching as his makeup artist, Tsuyu Asui, patted more foundation over the violent red scar that covered the left half of his face, applying more product until it was fully hidden. He sighed, relaxing his shoulders a bit at the sensation of feeling a little bit normal again, like maybe he could fit into society and not be such an eyesore. Tsuyu's lips curled into a frown at the forlorn look on his face.

"Hey." She spoke, her voice rough as she fought her own battle against her failing vocal chords. She had been a rising music star in her younger years, forced to retire at 19 and take another job instead because of a medical condition which caused her vocal chords to deteriorate. She was the only person aside from his brother that he felt comfortable showing his face around. He glanced at her through the mirror, meeting her dark eyes. "What is it?"

"Stop staring at yourself like that."

"Like what?"

"Like it's something to be ashamed of."

He shrugged, watching as she applied more product to his face until he started to feel more like himself. "I'd rather we not talk about this today."

The green haired girl sighed, moving onto his hair and fixing it into place. "Ok, but promise me you'll be nicer to yourself."

She didn't expect a response, so when she didn't get a reply she just sighed, knowing how stubborn the man was and how much he hated the scar on his face.

"Kid?" A voice interrupted, and he sighed, turning in his chair to face the director, a man with messy blonde hair and orange flight goggles. Keigo Takami (famously known as Hawks), a full time stunt pilot and retired model who helped out with Shouto's photoshoots and modeling campaigns in his free time. He was pretty sure he had only signed up because him and his brother had been friends in high school. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yes, just finishing up." He replied, standing from his chair and giving Tsuyu a thankful nod. She smiled in return, but it was strained. She knew behind Shouto's calm demeanor and the confident way he carried himself, there was just a scared little boy trying to figure things out in a world that hadn't been particularly kind to him.

Shouto didn't let her get another word out before he walked out the door, following Keigo out to the set. He was feeling extra conscious of his scar today, and the way it pulsed uncomfortable under the layers of makeup, reminding him of his childhood and the event that left him scarred forever, not only physically but mentally as well. Thinking of his own unfortunate circumstances always led him to thinking about his brother as well, which would only leave him feeling worse. He shouldn't allow himself to wallow in his own self pity when his older brother had it 10x worse. Shouto was still convinced, even after his brother's constant reassurance, that the entire thing had been his fault. He only felt worse when Dabi would tell Shouto that he didn't blame him at all. His brother should hate him for what he did.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Keigo snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Hey, iceman. You there?"

"Huh?" He blinked a few times, taking in his surroundings.

"You spaced out again. You sure you're feeling alright?"

Shouto shook his head, as if it would shake off the disorientation. "Yeah. I'm fine, thanks."

Keigo gazed at him for a long moment before sighing. "Alright, go ahead and step in front of the camera. Let me know if you feel like you need a break, alright? I won't tell your dad."

Shouto bit back another 'I'm fine,' knowing the man wouldn't believe him anyways. He stepped up in front of the camera, looking to his director for direction. "So.. okay, for the first pose just look casual, maybe put one arm in your pocket, and the other in your hair.. good, turn to the side a little- no, back a little bit.. there, hold that, that's perfect."

A few clicks went off, and Keigo waltzed over to the set, adjusting one of the lights so it looked as if sunlight was filtering across the left side of his face. Burning. It burned. His skin was melting, bleeding..

He bit his tongue, pushing the memories into the back of his mind. Focus. He needed to focus.

"Alright, now maybe move around a bit and we'll take some moving shots. Here- take the jacket off and show off that turtleneck instead. It suits you better, brings out your eyes. Yes- good, very good."

After a few more poses, Keigo sent the team off for a break. Shouto took a seat at one of the chairs in the back of the room, staring distractedly at his fingers as he tapped them on his knee. Keigo took a seat next to him, letting out a big sigh as he leaned back in the chair. Shouto only glanced at him, leaving the heavy weight of the silence between them.

A few moments passed, and Keigo sighed again. "You been seeing that therapist?"

Shouto's gaze hardened. "No. I don't need to talk to anyone, I'm fine."

The blonde gave him a concerned look, resting one hand on his shoulder and using his free hand to fish a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He lit one up, leaning back in his chair and leisurely opening his legs, taking up as much space as possible. "I know you don't need anyone, you're a strong kid, but it never hurts to talk to someone, y'know? To allow people to give you that emotional support."

When he didn't get a response, he sighed. "Listen, kid, I'm worried about you. You don't have any friends or talk to anyone outside of work. Your brother tells me that when you're not working, you're holed up in your room for hours. He tells me you hardly even talk to him anymore."

"I don't pay you to pry into my life." He replied coolly, standing up and leaving Keigo sitting in the back by himself, his brows knitted together in worry. He picked up his phone, shooting a text to the first number that popped up.

Shouto let out a breath when he finally got far enough away, rolling his shoulders back as if it would help him shrug off the tension in them. He stood still for some time, his thoughts drifting into nothingness when a hand met his shoulder. "Mr. Todoroki? Are you ready to go back on set?"

He turned to look at the photographer behind him, and nodded curtly at her. "Of course."

Making his way back over to the set, he avoided Keigo's prying eyes. Did he really believe something was wrong with him? Or did he too blame Shouto for what happened to Touya? He couldn't blame him if that were the case, he deserved every bit of resentment directed towards him. Shouto knew deep down that Keigo really only had the best intentions, but it was easier to believe everyone blamed him. That way, he didn't have to let anyone in. Distance was comfortable.

After finishing his shoot, he stepped back into the dressing room and changed into more comfortable clothes. Walking back out into the main area, he noticed Tsuyu gathering her things and nodded as a way of saying goodbye. He noticed Keigo's eyes following him, but he knew the blonde wouldn't attempt to talk to him for a few days after he'd shut down his initial advances. He waved the blonde goodbye as well, feeling the stress slowly begin to melt off his shoulders as he stepped out of the building. It was only then that he was able to relax enough to realize how hungry he was.

Looking up, he found a ramen place across the street. The name seemed familiar, and he recalled that one of his fashion designers, Mina Ashido, had recommended it to him when she found out he liked ramen. He thought for a minute before shrugging, what was the harm in trying a new ramen place?

He waited for the walk signal to come on at the nearest intersection, then glanced both ways before walking across. He opened the door to the ramen shop, instantly hit with a flurry of different smells. The receptionist smiled warmly at him, seeming almost a little shy in his presence (something he had grown used to over the years), and directed him to a table in the back. He took his seat, browsing the menu in front of him.

After a few minutes, the waitress came by to take his order, her eyes widening slightly when she saw who exactly was sitting at the table. "Mr. Todoroki? What brings you here?" She asked, trying to contain her excitement.

"Business. I had a photoshoot across the street and came here for lunch." He answered shortly, hoping he wouldn't come off as too blunt.

"Todoroki? Oh my gosh, hey Sho!" An excited voice spoke up from the window booth next to him, and he knew before even looking who the voice belonged to.

"Oh, Ashido. One moment." He quickly placed his order with the waitress, letting her go to the back before he continued his conversation. "What are you doing here?"

The bubbly girl grinned, her curly pink hair bouncing as if it mirrored her excitement. "Just getting lunch and discussing business with one of our newest clients! Come sit, don't be shy!"

He furrowed his brows as if he was confused or mildly offended. "I am not shy."

"Sure, sure, now come sit." She patted the seat next to her. Shouto sighed and joined her.

"Alright, introductions! Sho, you already know Momo-" The black haired girl offered a small smile and a wave in greeting, "-and this is Eijiro Kirishima! He's the drummer for Stellar Shock." She gestured across the table to a man with the most aggressive, fire red hair he'd ever seen in his life. It almost matched his left side. The man reached a hand out to shake, and Shouto took it with some hesitation.

"Nice to meet you! Todoroki, right? I've seen your work, it's super cool! You look so manly in all your photos!" The redhead shook his hand firmly, jolting Shouto slightly in his seat.

"Uh.. thank you." He responded, slightly taken aback by his odd wording. He let go of his hand, subtly wiping it off on his pant leg afterward.

"So, how was the photoshoot? Did you like the designs we sent?" Momo inquired.

Shouto hummed in approval. "The designs were quite nice. I appreciated how soft the turtleneck was, without being too hot. The jacket was nice and light as well, though I might recommend bigger pockets." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Though, don't take my opinion too seriously. I'm not the designer, it's just a personal preference. Overall it was very good."

"Wow!" She smiled, her eyes practically sparkling. "You really put a lot of thought into that. I'm sure many other people would appreciate larger pockets too, maybe we can incorporate that into our next design." Mina nodded in agreement. "Yeah, thanks Sho!"

"No problem."

"Here's your food, ma'ams, sir." The waitress came by, setting the plates for the first three down and bowing to Shouto in a sign of respect. "Yours will be out in just a moment."

"Thank you." He hummed, briefly glancing at what the other three were eating. His bicolour eyes widened at the tone of Kirishima's ramen.

"That's an awful lot of spice." He commented before he could stop himself. Kirishima didn't seem bothered and looked across the table at him with a smile. "Oh, yeah! I never used to like spice, but a buddy of mine in high school loved it. He was super manly. Anyway, I hung out with him a lot which meant I started eating more spicy food, and eventually I started to like it. I haven't heard from him in a while, but he became a professional boxer. I always knew he'd be the best, he just had that air about him y'know?" His eyes were sparkling by the time he finished, and Mina rolled her eyes.

"Stop talking about your bro crush. Your eyes are literally sparkling."

"What? Hey!" Kirishima frowned. "It's not like that. I just think he's cool."

"Uh-huh." Mina grinned. "I know, I'm just teasing you."

Their bickering was interrupted when the waitress came back out with Shouto's food, a classic bowl of ramen with beef and green onions for garnish. He nodded in thanks, letting it cool off before taking a bite and humming in approval.

"So, I take it you like it then?" Mina asked, watching him hopefully. He nodded. "Yes, the blend of different flavors is perfect. Thank you, Ashido."

"No problem! Honestly, I'm glad you gave the place a try. Now I know you value my opinion."

He tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Why wouldn't I value your opinion?"

The two girls giggled, and Kirishima smiled a bit. "Wow, he's like a puppy. It was just a joke, man."

They were laughing at him. Shouto felt his cheeks burn with insecurity. "Oh. I see."

Why couldn't he understand basic social cues? Was there something wrong with him? Was he stupid? Inadequate?

"Anyway, do you three have any plans this weekend?" Kirishima asked, glancing between them.

"I don't think so." Momo spoke first, looking deep in thought. "Unless I get a last minute call, I should be free."

"I'm free all weekend." Mina chimed.

"Me too." Shouto hummed in agreement, pushing aside his insecurities for now.

"Great! Our band is having a small concert this weekend at a local venue. If you guys wanted, I have a few extra VIP tickets.. you don't have to come of course, I just figured it'd be cool to have a few new friends there-"

"We'll come!" Mina agreed almost immediately. Shouto almost snorted at her enthusiasm. Almost. He knew she was a huge fan of Stellar Shock, so this would be like a dream come true to her.

"Really?! That's great!" He practically beamed. "I don't have the tickets on me, but I can add your names to the VIP list. Just tell security your names and they'll have someone escort you up to your seats."

"Thank you so so so much! We'll totally be there. I'm so excited!" She grinned. "Oooh! Can I design your outfit?! Please? I have so many ideas."

He laughed. "Sure! I'd love that. I've been needing some new outfits anyway. If you come before the show we can meet backstage?"

"Absolutely! I can't wait!" She grinned from ear to ear, making Momo giggle across the table. "Alright, calm down Mina. People are staring."

"Oops, sorry!" She giggled, calming down for Momo's sake.

In the time the three of them had spent talking, Shouto had already finished his ramen, cleaning the side of his mouth with a napkin. He was going to stick around longer, but he felt his phone buzzing violently in his pocket and sighed, pulling it out to glance at the number. He frowned when he saw the contact, standing and bowing politely to them. "I apologize to cut this short, but I have business to attend to. Here's some cash for my portion of the bill-"

He forked out cash from his pocket, placing it on the table. "Just use this, if there's extra then keep it. Thank you for allowing me to accompany you."

"Awh, no problem at all! We'll see you this weekend, okay?" Mina smiled, and Momo nodded in agreement. "It was really nice seeing you again, Shouto. You should come out with us more often."

He smiled, just the slightest little bit. Infinitesimally. Then it was gone. "See you this weekend."

"It was nice meeting you man, see you around!"

He nodded at Kirishima, then started towards the door, answering the phone at the last ring.

"What the hell took you so long?" A grating voice came through the phone, echoing in Shouto's ear. He grimaced, walking a bit faster and keeping his head down to avoid the prying eyes of people around him. "I was working." He lied smoothly, lengthening his stride in hopes to get to his car faster. He turned the corner, coming up to the lot and making a break for the little red Hyundai Kona SUV parked in the back of the lot. He breathed a sigh of relief when he got in the car, cranking the air conditioning as his father continued to berate him through the phone.

"Bullshit you were working, Keigo said your shoot would be over half an hour ago! What were you doing? Did you seriously think you could just slack off and get away with it? You are such a disappointment."

Shouto would have flinched if he were still his younger self, only worried about pleasing his father and surpassing his expectations, but he wasn't that little boy anymore. He knew his father would still be disappointed in him even if he made a cure for cancer. There was no point trying to impress him.

"The shoot ran late today." He mumbled, silently praying that Keigo would cover for him. "You can ask Keigo yourself."

"Fine!" His father grumbled through, and there was silence for a few moments, during which Shouto assumed his father was texting Keigo, before the silence was broken with a sigh. He must have been disappointed he had to look for a new excuse to yell at him. He snorted at the thought.

"Whatever, boy. I have to talk to you." His father growled, an edge in his voice. He'd probably heard Shouto's snort. Oh well, he had gotten a little bolder talking back to his father recently because he knew he wouldn't lay a hand on him ever again. Touya had made sure of that. He would be lying if he said he wasn't still a little bit scared of him, but he figured it'd fade with time. He just needed to be stronger.

"Uh-huh? Go on." He sighed lazily, running his fingers along the leather of his steering wheel.

"I'm going on vacation for the next two months-"

Shouto almost smiled. He'd be free of his father for two months? That sounded like a dream come true.

But of course, good things never happened to him without a catch.

"-So you'll be looking after my clients while I'm gone."

"What?" His jaw went slack. He would have thought he was joking, except he knew his father never was one for jokes. "Seriously? I don't have any experience in media management-"

"Too bad." He interrupted. "I wouldn't have picked you if I had any other option, but unfortunately nobody wants to work with these two. Specifically the yappy one. I have someone to manage all of my other clients but everyone refuses to take him on."

He scowled. "You can't just push me into this. I don't have room on my schedule-"

"You do now." He could almost hear his sadistic smirk through the phone. "You really thought I wouldn't find out about your figure skating lessons, didn't you?"

Shouto felt his blood run cold. As a child, he'd always begged his mother to take him to figure skating lessons. Touya had found videos of her old performances and popped them into the TV in his room one night to show Shouto. He still had no idea where his brother had even found the old tapes, but he had a bunch hidden and stashed away under the floorboards in his room. Growing up, he never understood why the tapes were stashed away, but as he matured he realized that his father was probably the reason behind it. He'd sucked the passion out of everything. His thoughts had only been confirmed when he went to his mother one night and asked her about figure skating. She had quickly shushed him and asked how he knew, and he, being the small, curious 5 year old he was, ignored her pleas and begged her to teach him. His father had overheard the two of them talking and scolded Shouto, telling him that figure skating was for girls, and sent him to his room. He remembered Touya coming to his room that night and covering Shouto's ears, distracting him with toys and games, but he could still hear his mother's cries from down the hall. Years later, when Shouto was 15, Touya had taken him out to try figure skating, and he'd been doing them in secret ever since.

"What are you talking about?" He tried to bluff, but he knew he'd already slipped up, his pause being just a beat too long.

"Don't try lying to me. I've called your coach and cancelled all further lessons. You really think you could get away with it? Figure skating is a girls sport. What are you, gay?" He laughed out loud at the thought. "I wouldn't be surprised, you'd be just like your failure of a brother."

"Don't talk about Touya that way." He snapped, anger coursing through his veins like liquid metal.

"Why, are you one of those freaks too?"

Shouto bit his tongue, going silent. He wanted to defend his brother further, but he knew how angry his homophobic father would be.

"Well, answer me boy!" He yelled, and Shouto lowered his head. Obedient. Subservient. He was weak.

"No, sir." He ground out.

"Good, you better not be, then you would really be just like your disappointment of a brother."

There was the sound of something dripping, and it was only then that Shouto looked down and realized he had squeezed his hand so hard that his nails had dug into his own flesh and pierced into his palm, drawing blood from his skin that steadily dripped into his cup holder. He put a napkin under it to catch the blood, grinding his teeth the entire time as he tried not to snap at Enji. That man didn't even deserve the title of being his father.

"Are you done?" He asked scathingly, trying to keep the hatred out of his voice despite how much he wanted to strangle him. This man wanted to ruin his life. He wanted to destroy his career, his passion, his relationships, and his will. He wanted to belittle him until he was nothing. So why did he let it bother him so much? Why couldn't he stand up? Why couldn't he be more like Touya?

Enji sighed through the phone. "Yes, and you're taking on this client whether you like it or not. All of your skating lessons are cancelled and I've had words with your coach, so don't even bother trying to go back, understand me?"

"Yes, sir." Shouto grumbled defeatedly, his shoulders slumping down.

"Great, meet me in my office tomorrow morning and I'll explain more. He and the other client will be there as well, so you can meet them and explain that you'll be taking over."

"Okay." He mumbled, not wanting to argue any more.

"Good. Don't be late." Enji warned, before the line cut.

Shouto stared out of his windshield in silence for the next two minutes, processing everything in his head. The one thing that Shouto had been able to take refuge in was figure skating, and now that was stripped away from him. He stared down at his phone for a few seconds before picking it up and dialing a number, raising it up to his ear while it rang.

"Hello?" Shouto felt his lips tug upwards at the familiar voice.

"Touya. Can we talk?"

Chapter Text

Shouto's POV:

Shouto stood outside a vaguely familiar apartment building, double checking the address his brother texted to him to make sure he was at the right place. After confirming, he walked into the safety of the complex just before dark clouds rolled in, the rain from the summer storm coating the streets.

On the inside, he was met with a stairwell. The air in the building was humid and uncomfortable, but he figured it'd be cooler when he got to his brothers apartment.

He walked up the steps one at a time, looking for his brother's apartment on the fourth floor. 401, 403.. 407. He stood in front of the door, hand hovering over the handle. He wondered if it was too late to turn back. This would be the first time Shouto had seen his older brother in over a year, since Touya was always busy with work, and sometimes had to go out of country for certain projects. Touya had never actually told Shouto what he did for work, and every time he brought it up he would be quick to change the topic. Shouto had a pretty good idea of what it was anyway, and he wasn't going to pry for answers he wouldn't get.

He realized how long he'd been staring at the door for when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs behind him, and hesitantly, he knocked, taking a step back and feeling his nervousness spike. He knew Touya would be happy to see him, but it was hard to rid himself of the doubt that rooted itself deep in the back of his mind.

He breathed out shakily when the door opened, revealing the slightly taller man in front of him. He looked the same as he did when he left, but his hair was a bit more grown out now and he had bags under his eyes. He wore black jeans and a loose fitting white tank top which showed the dark purple scars on his chest, snaking all the way down both of his arms. Shouto tried not to let his eyes linger on the permanent damage he'd caused.

"Shouto. Come on in, kid." Touya gave him a half-smirk, putting an arm around Shouto's shoulders and guiding him into the house, lazily kicking the door shut behind them. "Go have a seat. You drink?" He offered, heading to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of wine. Shouto shook his head. "Uh.. not really."

"You're still a goody two shoes then, huh?" He snorted, pouring himself a glass and screwing the cap back on. He put the bottle back in the fridge and grabbed a bottle of pop out of the fridge. "Catch."

Shouto barely had the chance to blink before Touya tossed it in his direction, and he caught it effortlessly, used to his antics from when he was a kid. He let himself smile a bit when he examined the bottle and realized exactly what it was. "You remembered?"

Touya scoffed as if he was offended by the question. "Of course I remember. I used to sneak you those all the time as a kid. Enji never found out." He snickered.

"Dad didn't find out about a lot of things you did." Shouto smirked, relaxing in his older brother's presence. It felt nice to talk to him so casually again. He'd missed this.

"I don't think he cared." He shrugged, taking a sip of his wine and setting the glass back down on the table. "Worked in my favour though, I got to do what I wanted without that fucker getting on my back about everything."

"Must be nice." Shouto sighed, then immediately felt bad when he remembered who he was talking to. "Sorry. I don't mean that like you had it any easier or anything. I know it was a lot worse for you."

Touya shrugged. "It is what it is, we've both got our own demons, right? Doesn't make anyone's trauma worse than the next." He fished a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it up and propping it between his lips, taking a deep breath of the toxic smoke before exhaling it in one cloud. Shouto scrunched his nose, but didn't make a comment.

Touya flopped down on the couch next to him, extending the pack towards him. "Want one?" He smirked lopsidedly, knowing how the younger boy felt about them.

"No."

"Good kid." He chuckled, sprawling out on the couch, head resting back against the arm rest of the couch and his bare feet coming up to rest on Shouto's lap.

"Could you not? Your feet smell like dad's cooking."

"Rude." Touya scoffed, making zero effort to lift his feet off Shouto's lap. The younger boy sighed in defeat.

The silence settled between them like a blanket of mist over a field after fresh rain. It was hard for him to describe how he felt around Touya. As children, he'd always thought his older brother hated him, and he wouldn't blame him if that were the case. Touya had every right to hate him, especially after the fire. But he never did. He protected Shouto, gave him a place to seek refuge even when he was angry or upset with him. Out of everyone in his family, Touya had been there for him more than anyone else, even though he was the one who should have hated him the most. He felt guilty every time he laid eyes on Touya, knowing he was the one who'd caused him irreversible pain and trauma, and yet the man didn't seem to have an ounce of hatred for him in his body.

"Quit looking at me like that, shithead." Touya huffed, sitting up just to flick Shouto's forehead. "I hate when you give me that look. Always got something stupid on your mind."

Shouto glared at him, rubbing his forehead where he'd been flicked. "Does Keigo know you're back yet?" He asked, quickly changing the topic.

"Yeah, course he does. He picked me up from the airport." He let his cigarette dangle from between his fingertips, watching the embers slowly fade out.

Shouto furrowed his brows. "I could have picked you up."

Touya looked shocked for a second. "Well, I figured you'd be busy with your modelling stuff and skating. Your coach told me to talk to you about going competitive." He paused, grinning as the realization hit him. "Wait, did you miss me?"

"What? No." The tips of his ears turned red, giving him away entirely. Touya's grin widened. "Ah, Shou! You could have just told me you missed your big brother."

He scoffed in return, folding his arms over his chest and looking away. "Whatever.. just.. don't leave for so long next time."

Touya's grin softened into a genuine smile, and he reached forward to ruffle his two-toned hair. "Hey, I'll be around for a while now, alright? I just had to get that one thing out of the way."

"Uh-huh." He frowned, moving to fix his hair.

Shouto wouldn't tell him that his father had taken him out of skating lessons. He didn't want his brother taken away in cuffs because of him again. He almost shuddered as he recalled the time 23 year old Touya found out that their father had been hitting Shouto. Touya had been there to pick him up for his skating lessons that day since Shouto didn't have a license, and upon seeing the bruise that swelled across the right side of his cheek, he went quiet.

"How the hell did you get that?"

Shouto stiffened, avoiding Touya's eyes. He knew if he looked up, his brother would see the redness in his eyes that hinted at his crying. He didn't want to seem weak. He was 16, for crying out loud. He could handle himself.

"Training." He mumbled, keeping his head down as he got in the passenger's seat, placing his bag down in the footwell.

"Bullshit." Touya snarled, letting his agitation seep through. "Let me see your face."

Shouto grimaced, slowly turning to face his brother. Touya's expression was deadly serious.

"Be honest with me, Shouto. Was it the old bastard?" His voice was eerily calm. He should have taken that as a sign right away.

Shouto nodded slowly, feeling utterly pathetic as a single tear trickled down his cheek.

Touya was fucking livid. He started to unbuckle his seatbelt and shut off the car, getting out in one swift movement.

"Where are you going? Hey- Touya!" Shouto yelled, his voice panicked as he fumbled his way out of the car. "Touya- whatever you're thinking, don't."

But Touya ignored him, walking straight into the Todoroki house like he'd never left. And as if he had a radar on the man, he rounded the corner, locking his eyes onto Enji with a venomous type of hatred. "I'm gonna fucking kill you."

Without even giving their father the time to process what was happening, Touya's fist collided with his father's nose with a sickening crack, bending it at a weird angle and making the man stumble back, partly in shock but mostly from the force of the impact. "You fucking dare lay your hands on him?!"

He lunged again, but this time their father was ready, side stepping him and making a shot towards Touya's ribs, which he narrowly avoided. Their father glared at him with cold blue eyes. The same eyes that stared right back at him with a hatred that bore into his very soul.

"Touya," The bigger man breathed, as if trying to reason with him. "Do not fight with me."

"Did you listen when Shouto said the same thing?" He grinned bitterly at the look that spread across his father's face. "That's what I fucking thought. Fight me then, you old prick! What, you scared to take on someone your own size? Must be easy picking on someone smaller than you. He's still a fucking kid!!"

Enji's face darkened, and he stepped forward, attempting to cage Touya in to a more confined area. "You don't want to do this, son."

"You don't get to call me that." He shot back, slipping under Enji's arm and kicking him in the back of his knees, sending him stumbling forward. Touya fought somewhat recklessly in his rage, leaving himself open for their father to catch him in the ribs with his fist, and it all unfolded from there. They exchanged blow after blow, but it became clear that Enji was no longer the man he once was, and his endurance was decreasing alarmingly fast. Soon enough, Touya had their father pinned down and was landing blow after blow on his disfigured face while Enji could only try to push him off.

"Touya, stop!" He felt like a child again, frozen in place and unable to do anything except scream. His throat burned. His eyes burned. He couldn't see through the tears, and suddenly he couldn't breathe anymore. "Dad!" He cried, reaching out and attempting to grab Touya's sleeve. But it was like Touya hardly noticed, grabbing their father's collar and lifting his bloodied face to his own. 

"If you ever, and I mean EVER lay your filthy hands on Shouto again, I'll fucking finish the job next time. You hear me?! I'm fucking serious!" He screamed, dropping him back down to the floor and only stopping when he turned to look at Shouto. His eyes, a murderous shade of azure, only softened when he looked at his little brother, hunched over on the floor with his breaths coming in short puffs, face streaked with tears.

"Fuck, Shou- it's okay, I didn't kill him, alright? He'll be fine."

Something seemed to flicker in Touya's eyes- was it guilt? He reached forward hesitantly, putting a scarred hand on Shouto's shoulder. Shouto really didn't mean to flinch away from him, but everything was blurry and spinning and unsteady. He could hardly make sense of what just happened, his mind in a state of flight.

"Shit, Shou, fucking breathe.. you're having a panic attack, alright? I need you to breathe. Slow.." He listened, trying to breathe in slowly and focus on his brothers eyes. They were the only thing bright enough to draw his eyes away from the sight of his fathers unmoving body on the floor. He was so absorbed in Touya's eyes that he didn't even see his sister walk in, frantically checking on their father and yelling something at Touya, who only ignored her, his focus solely on calming his brother.

"Good, yeah, just like that. That's perfect, alright? You're doing amazing kid. I've got you." Touya continued to murmur constant reassurances, distracting Shouto from the racing of his mind. Useless. He was so useless.

He was brought back out of his reverie when Touya caressed his hair, only now taking notice of how hard he was shaking. Everything came back into focus, and he felt like he could breathe again. He was fine. He was in control. Touya was knelt down in front of him, giving him just enough space to breathe, but also close enough for comfort. Shouto latched onto him, hiding his face in his older brother's shoulder so he didn't have to see what was going on around them. Touya hesitated for only a moment, before wrapping his arms around him, gently rocking him back and forth.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." He whispered. He opened his mouth like he was going to say more, but opted against it, swaying him in silence.

"Touya." Shouto mumbled, hearing the faint sound of sirens outside. "Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere kid, I promise."

Shouto wasn't sure how long they stood like that, but he heard shuffling all around him, and then Touya was ripped away from him by two big officers. He didn't try to fight. Shouto remembered calling out for him, remembered Touya telling him he'd be okay, and remembered Fuyumi's hands closing around his wrists, holding him back. He couldn't do anything but watch as his brother was roughly shoved into the back of the police car, and then taken away faster than he could process.

A hand was waving in front of his face, and he looked to his brother who was still on the couch with him. "Shou, did you hear a word I just said?"

"No, sorry. I spaced out. What were you saying?"

Touya scoffed, shaking his head and moving his feet off Shouto's lap, sitting properly next to him now. "I asked what you wanted to talk about. You said you had something to talk about when you called me. Or was that just an excuse to see me?" He teased. Shouto snorted. "No, I-" He paused, debating if it was worth it. He didn't want another fight between him and his father. He sighed and shook his head. "Never mind, it's nothing."

"Shouto." Touya pressed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "It's not nothing. You only say that because you don't want to put your problems on anyone else. Now tell me."

Shouto pursed his lips, side-eyeing Touya as he carefully chose his next words. "You promise you won't do anything stupid?"

"Promise." Touya agreed, just wanting his little brother to feel safe opening up to him. Shouto sighed.

"Dad found out I've been skating, and he called my coach and paid her to cancel my lessons-"

"-He what?" Touya interrupted, his upper lip curled into a snarl. "I'm gonna give that bastard a piece of my fuckin' mind-"

"Touya!" Shouto hissed, grabbing his wrist to stop him from getting up. "You promised."

Touya smirked. "I promised not to do anything stupid. Giving that old bastard a piece of my mind is not stupid."

"Yes it is!" Shouto exclaimed, exasperated. "You got arrested last time."

"Worth it."

"Touya!"

The older male rolled his eyes, flopping back down onto the couch. "Fine, jesus."

"Thank you." He sighed, relaxing his shoulders. "He told me he's going on vacation, and he needs me to look after one of his clients. Apparently nobody else wants to take this guy on for him because he's got a bad reputation, and he has me working with some other girl too but he didn't give me as many details on her. I told him I didn't have time and that's when he told me he knew about the skating lessons and cancelled them on me. I still have no idea how he found out, I never told anyone except you."

"Wait wait wait- doesn't he own a fuckin' media management company? No offense Shou, but have you ever even touched social media before?"

"You didn't need to say it like that." He huffed in indignation. "But no, I haven't, and that's pretty much what I told him too, but he won't hear it."

"Did he even tell you who you're supposed to be working with?"

"No."

"Stupid man.." Touya grumbled, his fingers twitching like he wanted to punch something. Shouto smirked. "Have you ever considered going to anger management therapy?"

Touya's jaw ticked, and he turned to glare at the younger man. "Hey, the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Just what it sounds like."

"Wow, what a fuckin' comedian. You're lucky you're my favorite brother."

"I thought Natsuo was your favorite."

"Nah kid, you're fierce. That's why you're my favorite. You were always tryna protect me and mom. I was jealous, sometimes it felt like you had more guts than me."

Shouto almost laughed. Touya? Jealous of him? What a joke. He was always the weakest, never spoke his mind, and always did whatever his father said. Sure, he'd stand up for Touya and his mom, but he had been shaking like a leaf the whole time. At least Touya could stand up for himself confidently.

"..You know, if you need help with the whole social media thing, I'm sure you could always ask Keigo. He's pretty good with that shit, he runs his own Instagram and he's got like five million followers."

Shouto shrugged. He didn't want to ask for help, though, especially from Keigo. He felt like the blonde man was always looking down on him or.. pitying him. He didn't want to be pitied, it made him feel like there was something wrong with him. Like he was inadequate. No- he could do this on his own, he didn't need help from anyone.

"..Thanks." He sighed, drumming his fingers on his knee. "I'll be fine, though."

Touya stared at him in contemplation. Shouto had always been too stubborn to accept help, always feeling as though he had something to prove. He figured it was part of the way he'd been raised, and the values that had been driven into him from the moment he was born. He just wished his younger brother would stop being so hard on himself and just accept help where he needed it.

"Alright, Shou." He relented after a minute. "Just promise you'll tell me if you need help. You don't have to take this on all by yourself just because our shitty old man thinks you're his prodigy child or something."

"I don't even want his company." He grumbled in protest. "It's not that, I just need to do this by myself. I need to show him I'm better than him, and that I don't need his help."

"You're already a better man than he ever was." Touya reassured, ruffling his hair. This time, Shouto didn't react, accepting his fate without bothering to try fixing it after.

"Thanks." He murmured shortly, picking at the slivers that stuck out of the edge of Touya's beat up old coffee table. "Why don't you replace this thing? Doesn't your job pay really well?" He inquired, changing the subject to something lighter. Touya scoffed. "Enough with the coffee table, will you? I'm pretty sure most of that damage is from you anyway."

"As if," Shouto rolled his eyes. "It's because you're always putting your feet on it."

"I'm pretty sure it's Keigo's fault, actually. He has this fascination with throwing knives and he's always sharpening them on my table."

Shouto felt a smirk tug at his lips. "Keigo's here pretty often, isn't he?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?" Touya blinked, his face akin to that of a clueless puppy. Shouto shook his head, averting his gaze back to the coffee table and letting his bicolor bangs fall over his eyes. "No reason."

"Hey- what are you smirking at?"

"Nothing." He let his face fall back into a neutral expression, not looking to be subjected to another one of Touya's hour long rants about how him and Keigo 'weren't a thing'. Shouto may have lacked certain social skills because of the way he was raised, but he was not stupid enough to let Touya's blatantly obvious feelings for the blonde man slip past his judgment. It was almost comical to Shouto how everyone but Touya and Keigo could clearly see that there was something going on between them. It spoke volumes in the way their touches lingered on one another, or how their eyes would meet for just a few more seconds than normal. Touya looked at Keigo like he held the world in his hands, but maybe Shouto could only see that because him and Touya were so close.

"Don't nothing me-"

"Touya, do you still have that chess board from when we were kids?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, it should be in my room-"

Shouto smirked. He was too easy to distract sometimes.

"-I can go get it if you want?"

"Yeah, sure."

He watched Touya go towards his room, and he felt a real smile tug at his lips. He had missed this.

Chapter Text

Katsuki’s POV:

The blonde man raced through busy city streets on his motorcycle, filtering through busy lanes with a surprising amount of control and elegance. Anyone who saw him driving by would assume he was a calm and controlled individual, when his personality was anything but. Not like Katsuki cared about what anyone thought of him, anyway.

Leaning to the right, he manoeuvred the orange beast into a dreadfully familiar parking lot. The building read “Endeavor Entertainment” in big bold letters on the front and back side of the building. Katsuki would argue the only thing entertaining about this place was Enji’s big nose, but he decided to keep that thought to himself for now.

He checked the time: 9:30. Right on time– well, almost. Close enough. At least Enji’s son, as aggravating and socially inept as he was, could choose a meeting time that didn’t entirely screw up his schedule. This way, he’d been able to get out of his morning training at 9:15, be here for the meeting, and still have time for his afternoon routine.

Finding a spot to park his bike, he planted his foot down, tall enough that his feet touched the ground on both sides, leaving him more than enough room to comfortably let the kickstand down and swing his leg over the seat. He unbuckled his orange and black helmet in a swift motion, shaking out his signature dishevelled hair. He ran a hand through the fluffy mess, combing any stray strands away from his face. His helmet dangled loosely by the strap from the tips of his index and middle finger as he walked towards the building. Black sneakers treaded along the asphalt, years of training and conditioning having taught him to walk lightly.

To his left, a flash of indigo hair caught his eye, and he turned to fully look at the girl approaching him. 

Oh, it’s that chick from yesterday. He thought to himself, pausing to look at the man who’d tagged along with her. Vibrant blonde hair, almost yellow, was the first thing that caught his eye. There was a violent line of black in his hair, almost resembling a lightning strike in his bangs. He wore blue sunglasses and tagged a little closer to Earphones than a regular friend would have. He tilted his head almost curiously, catching the hand that lingered over the small of her back which quickly retracted upon seeing Katsuki.

“Bakugou.” The girl acknowledged, nodding her head at him. “Earphones.” He nodded back, prompting a perplexed expression from her. “Earphones?! My name is Jirou!”

Katsuki shrugged, his eyes flitting to the blonde standing next to her. “Who the hell is this?”

“Denki Kaminari.” The man introduced, stepping away from Jirou’s side to shake his hand. Katsuki grimaced, keeping his hand shoved deep in his pocket. Kaminari’s smile faded, and he let his hand awkwardly fall back to his side. “I, uh, I’ve seen videos of your fights! I’m a bit of a fan, probably not as much as Kirishima though. He’s a super fan.” He snorted, clearly taking notice of how unamused the taller blonde was, because he awkwardly cleared his throat, rocking back on his heels.

“Don’t bother, Denki.” Jirou drawled, taking her phone out to check the time. “His personality is basically flaming shit.”

“Hey! What the fuck Ears? I’ll kill you!” He snarled, causing Kaminari– Sparky’s eyes to widen. “Dude, you’d really threaten a girl?!”

“Oh, don’t give me that shit. She’s just as capable as any man.” He rolled his eyes, looking Sparky up and down with a scrutinizing gaze. “Or are you one of those macho guys who thinks you’re better than everyone else?”

Kaminari put his hands up in front of him defensively. “Dude, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then let her speak for herself.”

Jirou sighed, putting a hand on Kaminari’s outstretched arm. He immediately softened, looking at her with the same kind of fondness his mother held for his father.

“Don’t bother, really. There’s no point wasting your energy on this guy. I’ve got to go anyway, we’re already late for our meeting.”

Kaminari nodded, face dropping as she removed her hand and started walking away. Katsuki gave him one last glance before walking away as well. He caught up to Jirou, walking by her side. “Why did you agree to this?”

His question caught Jirou off guard, because she turned to look at him with confusion in her gaze. “The same reason as you. I want to protect my image. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“You did.” He argued.

“Well, you did too, and you’re still here. What’s your point?”

“My point,” Katsuki sneered, annoyed by her attitude, “is that I don’t have anyone waiting on me. You do.”

Jirou faltered in her steps, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. Katsuki didn’t pause in his steps, leaving her to fall behind. “Even an idiot could see the way Sparky looks at you.”

Jirou was frozen in place for a while, because by the time Katsuki got into the elevator and pressed the button up to the top floor, she was nowhere in sight. Not like he cared anyway. The elevator doors closed, and Katsuki leaned against the handrail, fishing his phone out of his pocket and taking advantage of the time he had to review his old sparring videos and critique his own form.

Before long, the elevator chimed, doors opening to the top floor. He didn’t bother looking up from his phone, stepping into the office and walking automatically over to the desk.

“You’re 10 minutes late.”

That irritatingly indifferent voice confirmed the presence of the person he least wanted to see other than a certain green haired weakling. He shoved his phone away in his pocket, slumping down in the chair across the desk and kicking his feet up on Enji’s unnecessarily expensive mahogany. He swore he probably loved that desk more than his own family, so of course Katsuki had to do anything in his power to destroy it.

“What’s it to you, candy cane? Be glad I showed up at all.”

Shouto glanced at his feet propped up on the desk, but didn’t say anything, meeting Katsuki’s eyes with that stupidly intense gaze. “Where’s Jirou?”

“Hell if I care.” He grumbled. They sat in silence for a few moments, and then the elevator chimed once again, signifying Jirou’s arrival. Shouto nodded at her. “Good morning.”

“Morning, Todoroki.” She greeted, pulling out a chair next to Katsuki. His eye twitched. “The fuck? How come she didn’t get a lecture?”

“I called you both here to inform you of the plans I’ve made, and to get your input on them.”

“Hey! Don’t ignore me, you bastard! You think you’re better than me or something?!” Katsuki yelled, leaning over the table and getting in Shouto’s face. His finger pointed accusingly at Shouto’s chest. From this distance, he could see the flaws in Shouto’s makeup. He must have put it on in a rush, because it was thinly layered. Upon closer inspection, he could almost make out some kind of patch around his left eye, the skin raised almost like scar tissue.

Shouto didn’t even flinch, staring back at him. His blue eye was cold as ice, and his grey eye solid as stone. Neither gave away any hints of fear. That pissed Katsuki off even worse.

“I’d advise you to listen.” He stated plainly. Despite being on a lower level than the blonde, he seemed to be staring down at him. Katsuki knew that look. Condescension. He was talking to him like he was just a pouty child. This idiot wasn’t intimidated by him, and he hated it.

Jirou was oddly quiet during this time, and as if Shouto had picked up on it, his gaze flickered over to her, analyzing her briefly as Katsuki sunk back into his seat. 

“So, I thought we could start with publicity. It would be hard to pass off a proposal when neither of you have ever been spotted in public together, and after some research on Bakugou’s interviews..” He squinted at him. “It’d be especially hard to believe anyone would actually willingly marry you, so we need this to be believable.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Makes sense.” Jirou nodded. “So, what did you have in mind?”

“To start, I think it would be best for Bakugou to make an appearance at Jirou’s concert. The press will be there, and they will receive an anonymous tip that Bakugou is there, so they’ll be on the watch for him. After the concert, Bakugou will make his way backstage. The press are not allowed to come backstage, but they will be staged outside and undoubtedly catch him walking in.”

Jirou hummed in thought. “That could work. We don’t always give out backstage passes, and at this concert we didn’t sell any at all because it’s a smaller venue.”

“Your plan is flawed.” Katsuki interrupted, staring at the back of his hand absentmindedly, helmet hanging from his other hand. Without looking up, he could feel Shouto’s gaze burning into him. Somehow, the man’s presence demanded attention without him even needing to bat an eye. As much as Katsuki hated to admit it, Candy Cane was the type that made all heads turn when he walked into a room. His aura was magnetic.

“How so?”

“Well, if they didn’t sell any backstage passes, won’t the guards and the press just believe I’m trespassing?”

Shouto hummed in thought. “I guess I hadn’t considered that. Thank you, Bakugou.”

Katsuki glared at him. “Whatever, don’t mention it, idiot.”

“We could give him a staff card.” Jirou hummed in thought. “It’s just a card that hangs around your neck, the guards will recognize it and let you straight in.”

“No.” Shouto interjected. “Then the press may believe you’re only staff. That isn’t the image we’re going for.”

“They’re not gonna believe I’m staff.” He scoffed. “Everyone with eyes knows who I am. They can’t be that dumb.”

“Still, we should be safe rather than sorry. Jirou, is there any way you can have the guards escort him backstage after the concert ends? We should also reserve a special seat for him so he won’t be caught in the crowd at any point.”

“You think I can’t handle a couple fans?” He scowled.

Again, he was ignored.

“Yes, I can make that happen. Thank you, Todoroki.” He nodded in acknowledgement. 

“No need to thank me, I’m just doing my job.”

“Where are you gonna be for all of this? You sure order us around a lot for someone who’s just going to sit around doing nothing.”

“Bakugou!” Jirou hissed, half tempted to smack him.

“My work does not require me to work in the eyes of the media.”

Jirou’s eyes softened the slightest bit. “Hey, Todoroki, why don’t you come anyway? Have you ever been to a concert before? It’ll be fun.”

He seemed to hesitate for a long moment, almost as if he was weighing his options. “..It’d look weird if I came with Bakugou. It sets more of a point if he goes alone.”

“..Right.” Jirou sighed. “It’s okay, I get it.”

5 days later, 6:00pm:

“I hate crowds..” Bakugou grumbled under his breath, pushing his way to the front where his seat had been reserved. “Move, extra.” He growled at a shorter man blocking the middle of the aisle. The man looked as though he was about to turn around and yell at Katsuki, but his threats died on his tongue when he saw exactly who was standing before him.

Katsuki didn’t leave him any time to speak anyway, shouldering past him and finding his seat number at the front. There was some respectable distance between him and the next seat, so he was mostly alone. At least Jirou had the sense to move him away from everyone else.

“God, it’s so fucking noisy in here.” He scowled, fishing a pair of headphones out from his bag to at least somewhat drown out the noise. It worked for the most part, only the faint mumblings of nearby conversations getting through. He wondered how much louder it would get when the actual concert started.

He wouldn’t have to wait long to get his answer, as just as he had thought it, the small stadium seemed to quieten for just a moment before erupting into a series of cheers.

God, this was going to be a long night.

Lights started to flash around him in different colours, and he almost groaned. He noticed the flash of a camera somewhere from the shadows and quickly plastered the most pleased look he possibly could on his face. To outsiders, his expression resembled a highly unimpressed wet cat that just narrowly escaped a shave with death (a bath).

Three figures walked out onto the stage, their identities hard to recognize with all the flashing going on. The first one Katsuki noticed was Jirou, and as the flashing lights died down she was submerged by a deep purple spotlight. She looked almost like a siren under these lights, her movements fluid and borderline hypnotizing. When Katsuki had first met Jirou, she’d been plain and boring. He found it hard to believe how someone like her could get so famous. He saw it now, though. She came to life under the spotlight.

Kaminari was the second figure he recognized, sliding into the seat behind the drums. A yellow spotlight shone down on him, making the black lightning streak in his hair pop right out. He grabbed a hold of the drum sticks, waving to his fans with a boyish grin while he settled in, giving the drums in front of him a test.

The very last figure he noticed was bathed in a deep red light, highlighting bright red, spiky hair. He wore a pair of black cargo pants and a shirt that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Bakugou would have almost been impressed by his physique if he wasn’t the number one boxer, but alas, he was. Red hair held a raven black electric guitar in his arms, playing a quick riff along with Kaminari’s drums to hype the crowd up. 

Wait a damn minute. He knew that shitty hair.

“What the hell? What’s Kirishima doing here?” He mumbled to himself, shocked that this is how he was meeting his best friend from high school again. “..Huh.”

Katsuki leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. He took a moment to process that his old friend was really up on stage in front of him right now. He guessed that stupid band idea really ended up taking him places. He was impressed by Kirishima’s newfound fame, but he would never admit that to him. He’d take it too seriously and tear up the same way he did when Katsuki off-handedly complimented his high school shot put throw.

Kaminari started beating on the drums, shortly followed by Kirishima on the guitar. Jirou began humming into the microphone, and Katsuki settled into his seat, mild disinterest painted across his face. Time to see if Stellar Shock really lived up to their hype.

Many songs, a few hours, and one very sore back later, the concert wrapped up. Katsuki cringed at the faint ringing sound in his ears, cursing Jirou for setting him so close to the speakers. Two security guards made their way out from behind the stage, moving to stand on either side of Katsuki as he stood. He didn’t bother speaking: he knew what they were there for.

They lead him backstage, the entourage catching the attention of a few media vultures who quickly snapped photos of the trio. He tried to fight the scowl off his face, but it was no use. Fucking Enji and his stupid fucking marriage idea. He wondered if there was any way he could get out of this. The gears in his head hadn’t stopped turning since Enji had pressured him into this stupid mess, and frankly the whole thing was a huge thorn in his side.

But Jirou.. His eyes narrowed in thought as he went backstage, watching the three band members chat animatedly with one another from the corner of the room. Jirou was clearly in love with Kaminari. Maybe he could use that to his advantage somehow.

But first, he’d have to find out exactly what Enji was holding against Jirou to force her into this and find a workaround. As mean as Katsuki could be, he still refused to be responsible for the destruction of another person’s career. Deleting the evidence would be almost impossible, since he didn’t know which news stations had records of it. He’d just have to find a way to blackmail Enji into keeping it under wraps, or find something bigger to take attention away from Jirou and himself.

He was brought out of his thoughts when a hand clapped down on his shoulder. Kirishima stood in front of him, strikingly red hair just as bright as he remembered it. It looked professionally dyed this time, however, and not as choppy as it was in high school. His black roots were just barely visible.

“Hey, Bakubro! Long time no see! How have you been, man?” Kirishima wore a huge, shark-like grin on his face, and his eyes crinkled at the edges.

“Do I know you?” Katsuki grumbled, shrugging his hand off.

“Aw, come on man! It’s me, Kirishima! We went to high school together, remember?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Kirishima was pouting, his shoulders slumped over in defeat. “Really? Awh.. I guess after gaining all that fame you wouldn’t remember me..”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Of course I remember you, idiot. I was joking.”

“Oh!” Kirishima’s eyes lit up like a puppy with a treat dangling in front of its face, and Katsuki got ready to push him away if needed. “I should have guessed, you just act so serious all the time, I didn’t know what to believe.”

“Alright, Kiri, calm down.” Jirou snorted, pulling him out of his starstruck awe. “Hey, Bakugou. Did everything go to plan?”

“Huh? Of course it did.” He huffed. Kaminari joined them last, following close behind Jirou. He seemed to have a permanent spot by her side when they were in the same vicinity, following her around like she was the solution to all his problems. His expression was bright, even despite the way Katsuki had talked to him during their first meeting, and the situation with Jirou.

“Hey man, how’d you like the performance?” Kaminari asked, a lazy grin on his face as he leaned on Jirou’s shoulder. Jirou rolled her eyes, but ultimately let him stay there, the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

Fuck, Katsuki was going to feel really bad if his plan didn’t work out.

“It was too damn loud.” He complained, gesturing to the headphones that now sat comfortably around his neck. “I couldn’t hear myself think.”

“Awh, man, come on, at least say you liked it!”

“Don’t worry Denki, that’s just how he is. The fact that he didn’t insult our music itself means he likes it. Plus, he doesn’t look too annoyed right now, either– never mind.”

“Shut up, shitty hair! No one asked you. It was mediocre at best.”

“You do seem like the type to listen to a lot of rock, so I figured you’d like it.” Jirou added.

“Can none of you take a damn hint?!”

There was a laugh shared between the three of them, Katsuki scowling the entire time. These three idiots were getting way too comfortable with teasing him.

He rolled his eyes, shoving past Kirishima and bumping him with his shoulder. Kirishima grinned, spinning on his heel and following after him. “I watched your fight with Tokoyami the other day, they were streaming it on the sports channel. You’ve gotten so good. I remember when we used to spar in high school, and I noticed you’ve gotten some new moves since then.”

Katsuki felt his ego grow along with the praise, and he felt slightly less annoyed thanks to Kirishima.

“What’s it to you, shitty hair?” He grumbled, moving to sit on one of the stools backstage. Kirishima followed, pulling out a stool across from him.

“I was thinking.. It would be cool to spar with you again, man. I’d love to learn those moves if you’ll teach me.”

Katsuki scoffed, giving him a passive glare. “You’re not worth my time.”

“Awh, come on man! I’ve been practicing, you’re not the only one who’s gotten better.” Kirishima basically pouted, leaning closer to him. Katsuki scrunched his nose up, cocking his arm back and throwing a jab at his chin. Kirishima raised his hand at lightning quick speed, catching his fist in his hand. Katsuki raised a brow, then promptly rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, idiot. Your reflexes aren’t totally shit, fine. But that doesn’t mean you’re worth my time to train. I won’t train someone who’s heart isn’t in it.”

Kirishima visibly deflated, but lit up again in just a few seconds. It was like watching one of those inflatable noodles at the car dealerships that would fold over and then promptly inflate straight into the air in an almost whip-like movement. Katsuki almost laughed at the comparison.

“Well, we won’t train then. I’m challenging you, tomorrow morning, 9:00.”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes. Damn Kirishima, he knew the blonde too well for his own good. He knew full well that Katsuki would never back down from a challenge.

“Tch, fine.” Katsuki grumbled, staring Kirishima down with a familiar glint in his eyes. His upper lip pulled to the side in a sharp grin. To any bypassers, it would come across as cocky. Kirishima, however, knew better. Katsuki wasn’t cocky– he was confident and calculated. He knew what he was capable of, knew his limitations (whatever little ones he had), and his reflexes and processing speed were dangerously quick.

Kirishima couldn’t help his own grin. What Katsuki hadn’t taken into consideration was how much of a fanboy Kirishima was. He had watched all of his fights, hyper analyzing his fighting style and noticing the almost invisible tells he had before throwing a certain combination. He also had a bad habit of starting with the same right hook every time, going immediately on the offensive. Kirishima wasn’t a professional like Katsuki, but if he created a solid plan ahead of time.. He might just be able to hold his own, and impress Katsuki enough to train him.

“Hey,” Katsuki broke the silence, crimson eyes meeting vermillion as Kirishima turned to look at him. “Why did Jirou agree to this whole engagement thing?”

“ Oh.” Kirishima had suddenly gone uncharacteristically quiet, brows furrowed in concern as his gaze flitted over to his two bandmates. Jirou stood close to Denki, listening to him talk with a soft smile. Kirishima pursed his lips, turning back to Katsuki. “I assume you know the gist of it, I mean, you’re in a similar situation right?”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, I guess. I wouldn’t have agreed to it, but fuckin’ Enji basically forced me into it.” He stared down at his lap, picking at the fraying threads of his jeans. He couldn’t let that video get out– not at any cost. He wouldn’t have his mom blame herself any more than she already did for his mistakes. She’d brush it off when he brought it up, staying strong for him, but he knew she blamed herself. He could see it in her eyes. If the video got out and ruined his career, he knew she’d never stop blaming herself. He couldn’t care less about what the media thought of him, but.. Enji was unfortunately right when he’d said they could withdraw him from the fights and rankings. What would he do then? Where would his family go? He’d used his wealth to ensure his family had the best home they could, and everything his parents could ever want. If he was withdrawn from his fights, he’d lose everything.

“It’s the same for Jirou.” Kirishima interrupted Katsuki’s thoughts, drawing him out of a slow downward spiral. For once, he was glad to hear someone else’s annoying voice. It kept him out of his own head.

“I don’t have anyone waiting on me.” Katsuki pointed out, just as he had done earlier. 

Kirishima gave him a sad smile. “I know it may not seem like it at first glance, but she’s doing it for him. For me. She wouldn’t have agreed to this if all of our careers weren’t intertwined.”

“Just because you’re all part of the same band doesn’t mean some dumb mistake she made is going to ruin you guys too. Just say you didn’t know anything about it.”

Something crossed Kirishima’s face, and Katsuki narrowed his eyes. He knew that look. He didn’t like that look.

Kirishima looked outright guilty.

He inhaled slowly, his bottom lip wobbling the slightest bit. Katsuki swore to god, if this idiot was about to cry in front of him–

“The video is of me and Kaminari.”

Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek. Well, shit. That just made his plan that much more difficult.

Chapter Text

Katsuki's POV:

Cool air breezed through the room, the constant hum of the air conditioning fading into the background when Kirishima plugged his phone into the speaker in the corner. Katsuki leaned against the far wall, towel draped around his shoulders as he scrolled through his phone. He’d agreed to spar with Kirishima here this morning, but he’d shown up earlier to get his morning cardio in. He slowed his mindless scrolling, lips pursing as he caught a glimpse of a familiar face in a news article. He scrolled back up, spotting the undeniable flash of red and white hair on the cover of one of Japan’s biggest model magazines.

What the hell was Shouto Todoroki doing on the cover of Vogue?

He couldn’t think about it for too long, however, as he was wrenched out of his thoughts by an unbearable sound.

“Kirishima, is that the song from the fucking Titanic?”

The red-head turned, a wide and enthusiastic grin on his face. “Yep! Celene Dion, man, she’s an icon.”

“She’s dead. That song is at least a hundred years old, and it sucks.”

“Hey, that’s not very nice!”

“Shut up and turn it off, I am not working out to that shit.”

“No class.” Kirishima shot back, turning around and going back through his phone. He scrolled through his music, then paused, turning back to Katsuki who was glowering at him from the other side of the room. He gulped, looking for a song that wasn’t a love song. He came up empty.

“Uhh.. Maybe you should pick the songs?”

“You’re in a band, and you’re telling me you don’t have a single good song on there?”

Kirishima shrugged sheepishly, and Katsuki groaned, stomping over to him and hooking up his own phone instead. He shuffled his playlist, nodding his head as a song titled ‘Punching Bag’ blasted through the speakers, causing Kirishima to wince in surprise. “Set it Off? I guess I should have expected that.”

“The hell does that mean?” Katsuki squinted at Kirishima, but his threats didn’t hold much weight in the studio. He was at his calmest whenever he was in his training room: it was like stepping into a blanket of peace. Even Kirishima noticed the change in his demeanour here.

“Nothing.” He replied, shaking his head dismissively. He unravelled a pair of bright red hand wraps, wrapping them around his hands with trained ease. Once his knuckles and wrists were padded, he finished off the end of the wraps, securing them with velcro. He slipped his gloves on, casting a glance at Katsuki, who already had his gloves on and was waiting for Kirishima in the ring.

“You wrap your hands so damn slow.” Katsuki complained, and Kirishima shrugged. “Sorry, man, I don’t train as often as you.”

“Obviously.” Katsuki scoffed, getting into his boxing stance, right foot to the back and left to the front. Kirishima mirrored him, but his stance was slightly wider than Katsuki’s, giving him extra stability that he’d probably need against the force of the blonde's blows.

“Ready?” Katsuki asked. Kirishima’s eyes slid to his right arm. He’d swing with that first, and Kirishima would weave under to avoid it.

“Ready.” The red haired man confirmed, eyes watching in laser focus. A buzzer sounded over the speakers, and Katsuki leapt into action faster than Kirishima could process. He threw a heavy right hook right at Kirishima’s head, and the redhead could see it almost in slow motion. He was faster than he thought.

He weaved under his arm, narrowly avoiding the blow and he danced to the other side of the blonde, where he was unguarded. He threw a hook for his ribs, but Katsuki was still too fast. He jumped back, then leapt back in as Kirishima was just coming back up. He threw a jab and a cross, both landing on Kirishima’s face. He winced, jumping back out of his range, but Katsuki was aggressive. He jumped in just as fast, and Kirishima swore under his breath as he jumped out of Katsuki’s space, throwing a left hook at the same time. The hook didn’t pack much power, but it didn’t need to. As Katsuki came forward again, coming in with a cross, Kirishima slipped right, loading onto his back leg and then throwing his cross forward in an explosion of power.

The hit connected with Katsuki’s chin, and he stumbled back one step, his eyes wide with shock. Kirishima took that opportunity to charge forward again, hoping to catch him by surprise with another punch, but Katsuki deflected both his punches and dipped down, hitting him in the ribs with a hook on each side, causing Kirishima to wince in pain, letting his guard down just enough that Katsuki could deliver a freakishly strong uppercut to his face, sending Kirishima stumbling back and catching himself on the edge of the ring.

“F- fuck..” Kirishima croaked, catching his breath as Katsuki stood in the middle of the ring, his breaths level and calm as if he’d just taken a light walk in the park, and not as if he’d just kicked Kirishima’s ass.

“Dumbass. You think too slow.”

“What does that mean?” Kirishima wheezed, hauling himself up and feeling his ribs to make sure none were cracked.

“You hesitate between punches, it’s only a split second, but that split second reaction time is the difference between delivering punches and eating them. Boxing is about thinking and acting on the spot, hesitating will only leave you open and vulnerable. Get up, let’s try again.”

“ What? Again?”

“Did I stutter?”

Kirishima grinned wide, pulling himself up off the mat and getting into his stance again, noting Katsuki’s faint smile. “Alright!”

A few hours of Kirishima getting his ass handed to him passed by before he asked for a break, to which Katsuki had begrudgingly agreed. He was tired too, however, as much as he tried to act like he wasn’t. His skin was covered in fine beads of sweat, shirt long discarded and hung over the edge of the ring. Kirishima’s had been in the same spot, but had been sent over the edge and landed haphazardly on the floor when Katsuki had sent him stumbling into the pocket of the ring for the eighth time.

Katsuki patted his face dry with a towel, then took a swig of his water, resigning to sit on the floor while Kirishima walked laps to cool down. His music was still playing faintly over the speakers.

After one more lap, Kirishima approached Katsuki, sitting down next to him, backs to the wall.

Katsuki ignored him, scrolling through his phone disinterestedly. Kirishima leaned over, sneaking a glimpse of what he was looking at. “Is that your fight with Midoriya?”

Katsuki glared at him, but didn’t bother to put his phone away or pause the video, turning back to it after a moment. “Yeah. I watch my recent fights to see where I can improve.”

Kirishima hummed in thought. “Huh. That makes sense.”

Katsuki watched the screen with laser sharp focus. “Deku pisses me off. But he brings out my flaws more than anyone.” He admitted, pointing out a punch that Kirishima thought was absolutely flawless , but it had missed the green haired man by a hair. “I should have adjusted to hit more to the left, I knew he was going to do that but I couldn’t act fast enough.”

Kirishima’s brows furrowed. “Man, that’s surprisingly mature of you, admitting your weaknesses like that. That’s so manly.”

Katsuki scoffed. “It’s not weakness. It’s just what I can do better.”

Kirishima watched him, shrugging after a moment. “Either way, that’s really cool of you man. I can see why you’ve held the number one spot for so long.”

Katsuki felt a strange nagging in the back of his head, the tug of self-doubt that came with watching his fight with Midoriya. He remembered that fight like it was yesterday. It was the first time he’d felt fear in the ring. But Katsuki was still number one, right? It’s not like Midoriya could ever take that away from him.

On the video, Katsuki’s expression shifted, and in one moment, the tables turned. He took control and overpowered Midoriya, forcing him to the brink of exhaustion. No, Midoriya would never take that from him. Katsuki had just gotten distracted, that was why Midoriya had seemed so much faster than him for the first half of the fight. He had been sloppy, that was it.

But part of him still worried, because regardless of how much he trained, or how much he tried to deny it, Midoriya was still catching up.

Katsuki would never allow that nerd to surpass him.

An upbeat song began to play over the speakers, the sound of an electric guitar screaming heavy in his ears. He winced as Kirishima’s head whipped around, staring at him with wide, elated eyes.

“So you did like our songs!”

“Shut up, shitty hair!”

Kirishima laughed.

After half an hour, the two had jumped back into sparring sessions, taking them straight to 1:00pm. Kirishima was ecstatic that his challenge had turned out so well, and had apparently won Katsuki over and indirectly got him to agree to training him, since the blonde kept picking at Kirishima’s form between matches. Katsuki had changed into some regular clothes now, a pair of thin grey joggers and a fitted black compression shirt. He pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes, scowling when Kirishima bounded up behind him as he was leaving the studio.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Following you, duh! I was thinking we could go to the pool? It’s hot out, and we just spent the whole day sweating. Come on, man, it’ll be fun!”

“I don’t do fun.” Katsuki grumbled.

“Come on, you don’t have anywhere else to be! Besides, the water is good for relaxing your muscles.” Kirishima pressed, quickening his pace to be side by side with Katsuki, who’s shoulders were slouched as he walked.

“Fuck, fine.” He sighed, giving up early. He wanted to spend some time with Kirishima, he couldn’t deny that. He also wasn’t going to admit it out loud, it would be something he kept to himself. The truth was that he did enjoy the redhead's company, which is why he’d spent countless days training with him in high school. Besides, he hadn’t really hung out with anyone for fun since, so one day wouldn’t hurt, right?

Kirishima’s smile widened in pleasant surprise. He swore, if that man smiled any wider he’d probably tear the corners of his mouth. “Awesome! You agreed a lot easier than I expected.”

Katsuki’s eye twitched. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Of course not! It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“Whatever.” Katsuki replied, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats. They were about halfway to the pool when Kirishima’s stomach rumbled. He faltered, and Katsuki stopped walking, looking back at him. “Idiot. Didn't you eat lunch?”

Kirishima’s face tinged a slight shade of pink, probably embarrassed by the grumbling noise his stomach had made. “No..” He admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I forgot.”

Katsuki let out a long, exasperated sigh, before starting forward again, leaving Kirishima startled behind him. “Hey! Wait up!”

The red headed male quickly caught up, matching Katsuki’s pace. “Where are you going?”

“Shut up.” Katsuki snipped, cutting Kirishima off on the sidewalk as he veered to the left, his broad figure disappearing into the dim light of a sushi place. Kirishima blinked at the sudden movement, before hurrying in after him.

“Get what you want and make it quick.” Katsuki pressed. Kirishima smiled, “Thanks, man!”

“Whatever, don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything.”

Regardless, Kirishima’s smile never faded. Katsuki quickly placed an order as well, figuring now would be a good time to get caught up on his daily calorie requirement. Kirishima took a bit longer to decide.

Before long, Katsuki’s sushi was brought out and Kirishima had finished placing his order, his meal coming out shortly after. Kirishima peeked over at Katsuki’s box curiously. “I think we got the same thing.”

Katsuki spared a disinterested glance to Kirishima’s food, then looked back to his own. “So?” He asked, finding a place to sit outside. Kirishima paused, looking conflicted, before he sat across from him.

“We can’t just eat while we walk?”

Katsuki looked at Kirishima with disgust pulling at his upper lip. “No, you can’t eat while you walk, shitty hair. It’s asinine.”

“Oh, I didn’t take you for a well-mannered type.” Kirishima confessed honestly, a little surprised at how serious Katsuki was about his food. He was so brash and uncaring with everything else, so seeing him so worked up about eating manners was so.. foreign.

Katsuki’s brow furrowed, his mouth pulling into a frown as he finished swallowing his first bite of sushi before he spoke. “The fuck did you say?!”

There it was. “And you’re back.” He grinned, wholly unbothered as Katsuki began to throw another tangent at him.

After the duo's quick sushi break, they finally got to the pool, exchanging banter the whole way there. Katsuki was quick in getting changed, and found a locker to shove his things into along with Kirishima’s, insisting that his stuff should go on the top shelf since his red haired companion didn’t have a lock on them, forcing them to share. Kirishima had agreed pretty easily, and now stood just in front of the locker room door wearing a bright red pair of swim trunks.

Katsuki, in contrast, wore a plain black pair, obviously not too concerned with bright, flashy colours. He stalked over to the door where Kirishima was waiting for him, hand extended with a grin. Katsuki smacked his hand down, so Kirishima opted to just drape his arm around the blonde’s shoulders, much to Katsuki’s dismay.

“What do you think you’re doing, shitty hair? Get your hands off me!!”

Kirishima just smiled. “Relax, man. Let’s go over to the wave pool first.”

“I don’t want to play in some shitty wave pool. I’m not a kid.” Katsuki grumbled, following him anyways (he didn’t have much of a choice, with Kirishima’s arm firmly around his shoulders).

Wading into the water, he finally managed to force Kirishima’s arm off of him. He had been surprised at just how heavy Kirishima’s arm actually was– it was like lead, thick muscle rippled under his skin, making him look like it could break free at any moment. Kirishima had clearly been working out, even though his career didn’t actually require him to. Katsuki thought it was admirable that he still cared enough about his body to keep himself in good shape, even when he didn’t necessarily need to.

Katsuki had been lost in his thoughts long enough that he failed to notice the buzzer going off, and the start of a wave rushing towards them. Kirishima jumped away from the wave, letting it carry him towards the shallow end of the pool, but Katsuki didn’t have time to react. The wave was bigger than Katsuki had anticipated, looming over him like a titan. It came crashing down on him, but it wasn’t the only thing crashing into him. Something hard collided against his chest, knocking him off balance and pushing him down under the water.

He was pinned under someone, their strong arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him up out of the water even as he fought against them. He coughed, spitting water out of his mouth as he resurfaced, turning to unleash hell on whoever tried to drown him, only to falter when he was a familiar face.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay? I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to– wait, KACCHAN?!” Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki’s longtime rival, was standing right in front of him . He was fuming. This idiot had tackled him under the waves, nearly drowned him, and then had the nerve to try and save him? 

“I’m going to KILL YOU!! Shitty Deku, get back here! You almost drowned me!” He bellowed, noticing how Midoriya was trying to slowly slink away. The green haired man let out a scream as Katsuki lunged at him, taking them both back down under the water. He was on top of him now, aiming to deliver a solid blow to his shoulder when he was grabbed by the back of his neck and reefed back, re-emerging from the water once again. Midoriya came back up again, gasping for air as Kirishima ran to check on him.

Wait. If Kirishima was with Deku, then who was holding him? At the thought, the person behind him grabbed his wrists, holding them together behind his back with an infuriatingly strong grip, effectively neutralizing him.

“Let go of me!” He yelled, trying to wriggle himself free, to absolutely no avail. He turned, making eye contact with his assailant. His breath caught as two piercing, bicolour eyes stared back at him.

“No.” Shouto replied coolly, his eyes flickering from the blonde up to Midoriya and Kirishima.

Katsuki scrunched up his nose, noticing the glaringly obvious scar on the left side of his face that hadn’t been there the first two times he’d met the man.

“What’s with the giant scar on your face?” He blurted. Shouto stiffened, his grip loosening just the slightest bit. Katsuki took his chance, ripping his hands free and standing upright to face him now, finding a new person to shove all of his frustration at. “What the hell are you even doing here? Are you following me?”

Shouto’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Following you? I was here first.”

“Deku!! What happened, are you okay?!” An annoyingly loud voice blurted from somewhere to Katsuki’s right, momentarily taking his focus off of the youngest Todoroki son.

Short brown hair and annoyingly round eyes waded through the water and into his view. He recognized her, of course. Ochako Uraraka, Midoriya’s girlfriend from high school. Clearly they were still together, he noted, as Uraraka walked right up to Midoriya and cupped his cheeks in her hands, turning him side to side to check him over.

“Oh get over it, he’s fine! He’s the one that attacked me!” Katsuki huffed as two more young women approached them. One, he recognized. Mina Ashido, if he recalled correctly. He hadn’t gone to school with her, but he could remember seeing her around Kirishima a few times. They’d probably gone to elementary school together. The other was taller, and he didn’t recognize her at all. Long, raven black hair cascaded over her shoulders. She was probably about the same height as him, pretty tall for a girl. He briefly wondered if she was a model or something, which probably checked out considering that she seemed to be close with Todoroki. The black haired one and Ashido were coming towards him and Shouto, and he grimaced, making his irritation visible on his face as Uraraka fussed over Midoriya a few feet away.

“Todoroki, is everything alright?” The taller woman asked.

“Yes, everything is fine. Midoriya just ran into Bakugou by accident.” He explained curtly, his posture noticeably relaxing when his friends were in front of him. Raven hair’s eyes flitted over to him. “You must be Bakugou. I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m Momo Yaoyorozu.” She held her hand out to shake his, and he scoffed, turning away from her. Ashido squealed.

“Oh my gosh, Bakugou? It’s been so long! Remember me from high school? You still had a baby face then!”

Katsuki’s eye twitched, and he fought away the pink that settled on his cheeks at the embarrassing comment. “Hey! The hell are you talking about?! I never had a baby face!”

“You totally did!” She insisted, much to Katsuki’s dismay. She turned to Yaoyorozu, entirely unbothered by the impending death looming directly behind her. “Momo, this is the one Kirishima never shuts up about. I should warn you, he has a bit of an attitude.”

Kirishima, hearing his name, tuned into the conversation, a light blush rising on his cheeks. “I don’t talk about him that much.”

“You totally do.” Mina teased. Uraraka and Midoriya joined their circle as well, with Uraraka nodding her head in affirmation. “Actually, Kirishima, you kind of do.”

“Man.. you guys aren’t helping at all.” Kirishima whined. Katsuki turned his head slowly to Midoriya who was standing across from him, meeting his eyes in a chilly glare. Midoriya squeaked a little, but otherwise didn’t react much. He was so annoying. Ever since their last fight, Midoriya had grown a backbone and wasn’t reacting as much to Katsuki’s threats. He didn’t like that. Midoriya was starting to look down on him.

“Midoriya, are you all right?” Shouto asked, still stood beside Katsuki. The blonde resisted the urge to push him over just for standing close to him. Midoriya nodded quickly, sliding his gaze over to Shouto and elevating the tension between the two rivals. “Yeah, thanks Todoroki.” He said with a smile, wrapping his arm around Uraraka when she leaned on him.

“How do you know shitty Deku?” Katsuki scoffed, staring Shouto straight in the eyes. He gazed back at him coolly, but it was unlike his usual stare. There was something colder there this time, like he was picking him apart with his eyes and laying out every single one of his flaws and insecurities for the world to see.

“It’s none of your business.” He replied dismissively, grating on Katsuki’s last nerves. If there was one thing he hated more than anything, it was someone who refused to take him seriously. He could take yelling, fighting, and directness; that wasn’t the problem. Shouto was direct, sure, but he was so monotone and uncaring. No matter what Katsuki said or did, Shouto always had the same expression on his face, and the same level tone in his voice. It was like he saw Katsuki as inferior, like a bug he could just swat away. It was infuriating.

“What do you mean it’s not my business? I asked you a question.” Katsuki scowled, turning to fully face him and getting in his face as if it would help. Shouto was about an inch or two taller than Bakugou, though, so his intimidation tactics didn’t work very well on him. He just peered down at him through blank eyes. That was another thing Katsuki hated about him. He could never tell what he was thinking, he was just a blank slate all the time. As if he thought Katsuki didn’t even deserve so much as a reaction.

“And as I said, it’s none of your business. I don’t need to answer you.”

“What’s your fucking problem? You think you’re better than me, scar face?”

Shouto’s shoulders tensed, and a flicker in his eyes made Katsuki think that maybe he’d gotten to him, but it was gone just as quick as it had appeared, his shoulders going slack again.

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t need to.” He scoffed. “Fucking fake bastard. You think you’re tough shit, but you're just another one of those washed up pretty boy models who thinks they’re better than everyone else. Meanwhile, you don’t even know who you are, do you? You hide yourself under makeup and designer clothes. I bet you’ve never even had to work a day in your life. The only reason you have everything you do is because mommy and daddy handed everything to you on a silver spoon, isn’t it?”

Shouto’s jaw clenched, but he couldn’t stop himself this time, the words falling out before he had the chance to think. “Shut up. You don’t know anything.” He snapped, finally losing his cool for once. His hands shook when he exhaled, eyeing Katsuki like he was imagining what expression he’d have on his face if he decided to strangle him.

Katsuki however, was thrilled. He’d finally gotten a reaction out of him. A wide grin spread across his face, which only seemed to piss Shouto off more. “What, are you upset because I’m right? You want to act all high and mighty, but you just can’t stand it when people call you out, can you?”

He was going to say more, but Midoriya was quick to intervene. “H- hey, Kacchan, that’s not very nice. You shouldn’t say those things. Todoroki, are you all right?”

Normally, Katsuki would be pissed that Midoriya had tried to break up his fight, but he was too pissed at Shouto to care. In his entire life, he’d never met anyone that pissed him off more than Midoriya, until he met Shouto Todoroki. This guy grated on his nerves every time he saw him.

Shouto did not break his gaze away from Katsuki’s, a tense frown on his face. “Fine.” He replied shortly.

Midoriya laughed nervously, obviously noticing how thick the tension was as he tried to distract Shouto, to no avail. He looked ready to boil over or to fight him, but he must have had impeccable self control, because he remained rooted in place.

“What? Nothing to say?” Katsuki barked, surging forward again and pushing Midoriya away with one hand. “You think you’re too good to talk to me?”

“No,” Shouto started, watching the blonde’s body language to gauge if he was actually going to start a fight. “I’m just smart enough to know what you are. You put other people down because you’re insecure, picking on those who are weaker than you to prove to yourself that you’re worth something. That’s how you ended up in this situation, isn’t it? You’re so insecure that you resort to violence to prove yourself.” He paused, taking a breath and meeting Katsuki’s glare with icy eyes. “ Isn’t that right? ” He challenged, throwing Katsuki’s own words back at him.

Katsuki was going to make a scene. His blood was boiling, white hot rage coursing through his veins. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “Whatever, scar face. I have better things to do than listen to your baseless accusations. Get lost.”

“I was here first.” He retorted, making Katsuki’s eye twitch and his lip curl in anger. Kirishima intervened quickly, grabbing the blonde’s arm and pulling him away. “Hey man, chill out. Why’d you go picking a fight with Todoroki?”

“Don’t tell me what to do! Let go!” He growled, ripping his arm free of Kirishima’s grip. “He’s a rich asshole, he acts just like his father but he’s three times as smug.”

Kirishima frowned. “Man, he didn’t really say anything though. You kind of just picked a fight with him out of nowhere.”

“He was looking at me funny, like he thought he was better than me or something. He’s condescending.” Katsuki argued. “He thinks he’s too good to even talk to me. He pisses me off.”

Kirishima shrugged awkwardly, trying to word his next sentence in a way that wouldn’t offend the blonde. “I think you’re misreading it. He’s like that with everyone, he’s just quiet.”

Katsuki scoffed, glaring over at Shouto, who now looked as if the whole thing had never happened. His face was relaxed, and he was talking casually with Yaoyorozu as if Katsuki hadn’t just been baring his fangs at his throat like a rabid dog. Katsuki’s face twisted into a scowl. “And he has the nerve to act as if none of that just happened. Look at him, he thinks he’s better than me.”

The red-head sighed, putting the topic to rest when he realized Katsuki wasn’t going to budge. “Okay, well let’s just stay away from them, alright? Just try to ignore him if he upsets you so much.”

Katsuki scoffed. “I can’t just ignore him when I have to work with him.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened slightly, as if he just realized something. “Oh, I didn’t even piece that together. I guess I should have known that from what Jirou told me.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Ashido, who slid her hand around Kirishima’s arm, resting it on his forearm. She leaned onto him, grinning up at him. “Hey Kiri! Bakugou, what was that fight about?” She asked, her gaze sliding from Kirishima up to him. 

Katsuki scoffed. “None of your business.”

“Geez, okay. You’re so boring.” She complained. Kirishima smiled, ruffling her hair affectionately. Katsuki rolled his eyes in disgust. “Get lost, idiots.”

They did not get lost. Instead, they dragged Katsuki along to play volleyball in the pool with them with some random inflatable they found. Katsuki didn’t see much of Todoroki or Midoriya after that, and he preferred it that way. Looking at the two of them made him sick with anger.

After a while of playing volleyball, the three took a break. Kirishima and Ashido had run off to talk to the other group for a moment, and that left Katsuki to his thoughts for a little while. He thought about the video Kirishima had mentioned at the concert, and how Kirishima was so hesitant to tell him what it was about. He wondered what could be so bad that it had landed Jirou in this situation, trying to manage the fallout of her bandmates’ actions.

One way or another, he had to figure out what was in that video. Not just for himself, but for Jirou, Kaminari, and Kirishima too. He was going to get them out of this, even if it meant he had to deal with Todoroki every day. He wouldn’t fail them.

Chapter Text

Katsuki was annoyed, more so than usual. After he and Kirishima had left the pool, his red-headed friend had spent nearly the entire walk back lecturing him for how rude he had acted. Katsuki had scowled the whole time, snapping back at him, but it was never enough to actually shut him up. Kirishima knew he wouldn’t actually do anything to hurt him, and Katsuki knew he probably deserved it a little bit anyways. He could admit he had acted rude towards Todoroki, but the ignorant prick had it coming. He didn’t regret what he said.

Sure, maybe Katsuki had been trying to pry a reaction out of him, to get him to lose his cool and come down off of his stupid high horse. However, instead of outright getting angry and yelling at him, putting them on equal levels, he remained just a step above him, looking down on him and accusing him of some stupid insecurity which definitely wasn’t true. He’d gotten a reaction just like he wanted, so why was he still so bothered?

Todoroki’s words had Katsuki leaving the pool with a sinking feeling in his stomach, one he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Now, as he lay in bed unable to sleep, he wondered if maybe what Todoroki had said was right.

He scoffed at the thought, brushing it away as soon as it came. What was he thinking? Todoroki knew nothing about him, so why let him get into his head? He turned over onto his side, letting out a soft breath and letting his eyes flutter shut. He needed to stop thinking, it wasn’t doing him any good.

A soft meow broke him out of the momentary peace he did find, and he groaned, opening his eyes again to cast a glare at the orange cat that sat expectantly in front of him, kneading the blanket in hopes for attention. Katsuki sighed, begrudgingly reaching his hand out to pet the top of her head. She purred in response, nuzzling into his palm. Katsuki allowed himself to smile in the privacy of his room.

“You’re a troublemaker, Kiwi.” He accused, before rolling back over onto his back, kicking the blanket off of himself. “Whatever, I don’t think I was going to get much sleep anyway.”

Kiwi purred innocently in response, curling into Katsuki’s side. He stroked her fur delicately, sitting up after a few minutes had passed. He obviously wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, if the past hour and a half of restlessly staring at his ceiling said anything, so he’d have to find something else to do. Normally, he’d just go for a late night walk, but recently had been different. He wasn’t sure how comfortable he felt leaving his parents alone at the house anymore.

Kiwi jumped into his lap, curling up and kneading her claws into his thigh. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, staring out his window into the star splashed night sky. A gentle frown curved his lips as he fell into thoughts of what led him into the mess he was in now.

It was bull shit, none of it had been his fault. Sure, he’d beaten up those guys in the alley way that night: how he’d been caught, he had no idea. He hadn’t seen anyone recording, but to be fair his vision had been pretty narrowed down on those evil bastards. They had deserved every bit of what was coming to them, and worse. The authorities hadn’t done shit either, even when he’d tried to explain his side of the story, they had told him it was best to sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened. He didn’t like that, but he agreed for his mom’s sake.

For his mom’s sake. God, he was pathetic, wasn’t he? Those freaks were still out there, and it was his fault. If he hadn’t been caught on video, this wouldn’t have been an issue. His career wouldn’t have been threatened, and his mom wouldn’t have asked him to stay quiet about it. He knew why she wanted him to stay quiet: she was still trying to protect him from his own actions. He didn’t need to be protected, he could handle himself, but his mom cared about him more than she cared about herself, and seeing him lose his career over a couple of punks he beat up for her sake would crush her.

Katsuki felt like a lost cause. He couldn’t truly guarantee his mother’s safety right now, he was stuck. If he had tried to press charges, he could face charges as well and risk his career, but when he chose not to press charges, it basically sent a big blaring message to the men in big, bold red letters that they could just continue harassing Mitsuki without consequences.

He had two huge problems right now, problems that weighed down on him so heavily he felt that he would break at any given moment. He was cracking, that much was clear. He didn’t know how much more he could take, but he had to take it. He just had to bide his time and wait for the chance to get rid of his mother’s stalkers for good, and get out of this marriage thing without destroying his career. He could do that, right? He would be fine.

He took a deep breath in, brainstorming all the ways he could fix it.

He let a slow breath out, coming up with next to nothing.

Yeah, he was fucked.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Katsuki? Pull yourself together.” He muttered to himself. He couldn’t give up, that wasn’t who he was. He needed to do this for his family, and for Kirishima and the other two idiots. He wasn’t the only one on the line here, so he needed to pull his shit together now.

With that thought, he pulled himself out of bed, ignoring an offended meow from Kiwi. He paused in front of his door, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to check on his mother and father to make sure they were still doing ok. He huffed in disbelief. When had he become so paranoid?

Regardless, he opened the door, using the flashlight on his phone to navigate his way through the dark hallway. He turned it off in front of his parents’ room, not wanting to wake them. He opened the door the slightest crack, sighing in relief when he saw them both sleeping soundly. Shutting the door as gently as he could, he padded back down the hall to his room, footsteps silent as a ninja.

Slipping into his room, he shut the door behind him, grabbing a slip of paper and a pen. He sat at his desk, tapping his pen idly against the paper as he thought up ideas. For his mom, he had a few options. He could try and get her to go under witness protection, but that was a long process and she’d never agree to that. He might as well cross that one off right away. He figured his best bet for now would be to first find out who her stalkers were. He already knew one of them, since he was his mom’s ex from high school. He had interrogated her one day for details when he noticed the man following her down the street, a worried look etched in her brow. He vaguely remembered his usually passive father coming outside shortly after with a baseball bat, and snorted at the memory. 

He remembered the guy’s name off the top of his head, as he’d done extensive research that night to find out where he lived. Unfortunately, all the information had been outdated. He’d need to find another way.

He had no way to identify the other two that had accompanied him that night when they were attacked in the alley way. All he had was that stupid video Enji was using against him, and that didn’t reveal any of their faces except his own, and his mother’s. He felt himself growing agitated. The audacity of those low-lives to try to attack his mother right in front of him. They must have thought they were invincible or something stupid.

He scribbled words onto the paper quickly, as if the thoughts would disappear if he didn’t write fast enough. If he found out who they were, he could potentially try to catch them in another crime and anonymously rat them out and have them put away for good. If there wasn’t any pre-existing evidence against them, he could just frame them. He knew it wasn’t morally right, but they deserved it for everything they put his mother through.

There was one major problem though. Katsuki didn’t have the time for all of this. What he did have was money. He wondered if he could hire a private investigator to do the work for him, and then that would leave him more time to sort out the arranged marriage situation and get them out of that too. If he was feeling particularly spiteful that day, he might even hire the PI to find dirt against Enji Todoroki. He smirked. He’d be able to get both him and Jirou out of this mess, and he’d get the pleasure of seeing Enji’s cocky smirk wiped off his face. Two birds with one stone.

Now, all he’d have to do was find a private investigator.

Finding a private investigator was easier said than done, as Katsuki soon realized. He’d lost track of time in his internet search, and ended up staying up until 4am and completely destroying his strict sleep schedule. He’d woken up at 7am, an hour later than usual, with Kiwi meowing in his ear, most likely bitching at him for not feeding her at her usual time. He’d sluggishly gotten out of his bed in a terrible mood, bags under his eyes, and still no closer to finding a PI than he’d been yesterday. Seriously, he’d gone down every internet wormhole possible, going onto sites that sent his antivirus system into a meltdown, only to lead to entirely dead ends. He was sure he had more than a few viruses, and absolutely no leads.

So yeah, he was pretty fucking bitter.

“Oh, he’s alive!”

Any patience he had slipped away in an instant. He tilted his head, shooting his mother a piercing glare. She glared back, challenging him.

“I had a long night.” He grumbled, backing down first. For once, he really wasn’t in the mood to argue. She seemed to notice this, though, and frowned, walking over to him and smacking a hand onto his forehead.

“Ow! What the hell mom?!” He yelped, flinching back. She held him there. “Your forehead doesn’t feel hot, so you’re not sick. What’s going on, are you alright?”

“Fuck– hell,” He scowled, shoving her arm away and rubbing his forehead. “Mind your business, I’m fine.”

Clearly, his mother didn’t believe him, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to pry answers from him. Katsuki never gave up his secrets, even when it got him in trouble. He’d taken the fall for his close friends time and time again in high school, not that he’d ever admit that to them. Even now, he was dealing with his mother’s problem head on, without telling her about it. He didn’t want her to worry about him any more than she already did.

Mitsuki frowned, but turned away, taking the pot of freshly brewed coffee off the counter and pouring herself a cup. She offered it out to him, and he shook his head, scrunching his nose up in response. She shrugged, putting it back into its holder and turning to look at him again. A long silence stretched between them, Katsuki staring at her and impatiently waiting for her to spit out what she had to say. She sighed, finally breaking the silence.

“Katsuki.. I’m worried. You never sleep in like that, are you sure you’re alright?”

He scoffed, brushing off her concerns. “I only slept in for like an hour. I’m fine.”

She hummed, eyeing him suspiciously, but she let it go when his dad walked into the room, greeting her with a smile and a kiss to the cheek. He patted Katsuki gently on the head in greeting, to which he glared back at him. He made himself a cup of coffee, sitting at the table across from Katsuki while his mom still stood at the counter.

Just as he felt as though his mom might pester him more, his phone rang in his pocket. He grumbled under his breath, checking the caller ID and narrowing his eyes when he saw it read ‘Endeavor Ent.’

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he excused himself from the table, heading up to his room to take the call. He answered on the second last ring.

“ What.” He snapped, leaning against his door frame and scuffing his foot on the floor impatiently. 

“Bakugou?” An irritatingly monotone voice answered back. He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from groaning audibly. Right. He’d somehow forgotten Enji was on vacation and Shouto was taking over.

“Obviously, it’s me. Now what do you want?”

A moment of silence passed. Katsuki’s eye twitched. Why could nobody just get to the point? It was like everything was grating on his nerves this morning, and he half wondered if it was due to his lack of sleep.

“You’ve been asked to attend an interview at 11am along with Jirou. It’ll be regarding your appearance at the concert and details about your relationship, most likely. Come prepared with some lines, but show up half an hour early so we can go over the details and make sure both of your stories are straight.” Shouto explained.

“What makes you think I have time for that? Why the hell are you asking me so short notice?” Katsuki snapped back. Seriously, who the hell did this guy think he was?

“Well, the news station requested you there for that time.”

Katsuki blanked. “And you didn’t think to ask about Jirou and I’s schedules first?”

“No? I thought you’d be free. When they called me for interviews in the past, I usually just agreed.”

“Yeah, well not everyone has the free time that you do, pretty boy.” Katsuki grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Was he seriously this clueless?

He paused, a few seconds of silence passed, and then Shouto spoke again. “..You think I’m pretty?”

“Wh– NO! It’s supposed to be an insult, scar face, damn it. You really are clueless.” He scoffed. “I’ll be there if I feel like it. Don’t call me back.” He warned, hanging up the phone without another word.

He threw his phone down on his bed, shivering as a cool gust of air swept in through his window. Right– the leaves had just started changing colours, and the weather had steadily begun to get cooler, signifying the start of fall. He strode over to his closet, pulling out a black hoodie and pulling it over himself. Thankfully, it wasn’t cold enough for a jacket yet. He still had yet to replace his from last winter.

He packed his wraps, gloves, and gym clothes into his bag. He figured he could still get some training done before his interview. It would help him wake up a little more anyway, and hopefully be less irritated.

Trudging downstairs and pointedly avoiding the kitchen so he wouldn’t get harassed by his mom again, he slipped his training shoes on and slipped out the door as quietly as he could, motorcycle keys dangling between his fingers.

A few hours and a change of clothes later, Katsuki was packing up his gym stuff, shrugging it over his shoulder and heading out the door. It was about 10am now, leaving him an hour before his interview, and 30 minutes until he had to be there. Shouto had texted him the location from a different number, which he assumed was his personal number, and it was about 10 minutes from the studio. That left him a 20 minute grace period to grab something to eat.

Upon stepping outside, he wasn’t surprised to see the lot empty aside from his motorcycle. Most of the other guys who took lessons at the studio only came by during the evenings, but Katsuki liked to make a point of training twice a day. He approached his motorcycle, swinging his leg over and starting it up. He let it warm up for a minute or two, and in that time he looked around the lot, frowning as a flash of black caught his eye from the corner of the lot, just around the corner of the building.

A black range rover, windows entirely blacked out. He stared at it, intense vermillion eyes zeroing in like a sniper would suddenly emerge and shoot him down. He recognized that vehicle by now– he’d seen it at least four times over the past few weeks, tailing him around random locations. He knew the plates, and the discreet scratch along the front bumper.

Someone was following him. At first, it had just been a suspicion– he’d brushed it off as a coincidence. But he only started to see it more frequently, and now, hidden around the side of the building.. Well, it didn’t take a genius to figure out the driver was trying to hide from him.

He debated going up and confronting him, but he worried he didn’t have time. On the same note, he didn’t want to risk leading this potential psychopath into a building where a bunch of innocent people were working, so he couldn’t just go straight to his interview. He’d have to shake him off.

He revved his engine, glaring through the tinted windows as if daring them to follow, before he flipped his visor down, zipping out of the lot.

To his surprise, the black car didn’t move even after he was out of sight. He frowned. Maybe he was just being paranoid because of his mother’s stalkers.

After a few blocks, he pulled his bike over, putting a foot down on the pavement and watching for the car, a frown etched deep onto his face. A few minutes passed, and as expected, the black car rounded the corner. His suspicions were confirmed– this guy wasn’t only following him, but he had planted a tracker somewhere on his motorcycle too. He glared through his helmet. He’d have to confront them head on.

He pulled his motorcycle out onto the middle of the street, blocking him from moving forward. The car sped up, swerving around him and climbing up the curb onto the empty sidewalk. He swore under his breath, taking off after the vehicle, but he turned into a side alley, cutting through the buildings. Katsuki couldn’t follow, the sidewalk being too high for him to lift his bike onto, and the alley street being too bumpy and unmaintained.

“Fuck you!!” Katsuki yelled after the vehicle, though it likely sounded incoherent under his heavy helmet. “Coward!”

He grumbled, checking the time on his phone. 10:56. Shit. He was definitely late for rehearsal, and he was about to be late for the interview too.

He chewed on his lip. Now that his stalker knew he’d been discovered, there was a chance he might follow him to the interview. He’d be risking the possibility of the stalker injuring innocent people. After all, he didn’t know who they were or what their intentions were. They were unpredictable.

If he could find the tracker, he would be sure the stalker wouldn’t know where to find him. He’d be even later for his interview, but at least nobody would be hurt because of him.

So, for the next few minutes, Katsuki searched his motorcycle, patting it down until his hands ran over a ridge underneath the body that he didn’t recognize. He ran a finger over it in a circular motion, feeling out the shape of it. Bingo.

He pinched it between his nails, struggling to pry it loose. Finally, it lifted, and he peeled it off. Walking to the side alley his stalker had escaped from, he tossed it into a trash bin. Walking back to his motorcycle, he didn’t bother to check the time before zipping back down the street and onto the main highway, kicking his bike up the gears as he raced to his interview.

He parked his motorcycle into the closest spot he could find, letting it lean on the kickstand and shutting it off. Pocketing his keys, he walked into the unfamiliar building, not bothering to take his helmet off. He didn’t need to take the elevator for this one, as Shouto had mentioned it was on the first floor. He checked in briefly with the woman at the front desk, and she directed him to the recording room.

Not even a moment after he had entered the room, Shouto’s intense eyes found him.

“You’re late.” Shouto drawled in his usual, bored tone.

“Shut up, you’re lucky I came at all.” Katsuki sneered.

Shouto’s eyes had always been cold, but they seemed colder than usual. His face was covered in makeup, entirely disguising the scar that covered the left side of his face. His aura was entirely different today, as if Katsuki really were just a pest he could crush. Katsuki’s day just kept getting worse and worse, because now all he wanted to do was strangle him. That would make a nice headline, wouldn’t it? ‘Shouto Todoroki, Model Son of Millionaire Enji Todoroki, Strangled by Delinquent Pro Boxer Katsuki Bakugou!’ or something like that.

“Jirou is already in the interview, in that room over there. I’d suggest you go in and make a good impression, or it might further damage your reputation.”

Katsuki’s eye twitched. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

He shouldered past him, into the interview room where Jirou was sat on a couch across from the reporter, a lanky black haired man that looked to be in his mid 30’s or early 40’s. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, a tense smile on her face that relaxed the slightest bit when she saw a familiar face in her peripheral vision.

He took the seat on the couch next to her, fully prepared when the interviewer bombarded him with a flurry of questions. He’d been through this before, he knew what to expect. 

“Oh, Bakugou! You’re here. We almost thought you weren’t going to show up, what took you so long?”

Being prepared still didn’t keep him from wanting to yell at people, however, but he’d bite his tongue for now– literally.

“Uh.. Bakugou? Are you feeling alright?” The reporter asked after he was silent for longer than normal.

“Oh, he’s fine. He gets like this sometimes. It’s uh, stage fright.” She offered, trying to make it better.

“I do not have stage fright!” Bakugou snapped, whirling on her. She had the nerve to smirk at him, turning back to the reporter. “He gets like this sometimes, but he’s a big softie at heart.”

She accentuated the word softie with a sharp, almost invisible jab to Katsuki’s ribs. He flinched, shooting her a glare before letting his gaze fall to the floor. Right, she was trying to salvage this interview for him. He could try to play nice for now.

“Uhh, back to the questions.” The reporter said quickly. “Now that Bakugou’s here, the fans are curious. Bakugou, nobody knew you were a fan of Stellar Shock, so it was a big shock to everyone when you were spotted going backstage at their concert! What was that about?”

A fake laughing track played at his joke, but Bakugou tensed. Shit, he hadn’t gone over this with Shouto and Jirou. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say.

“The members of Stellar Shock are good friends of mine. I showed up to support them.” He watched Jirou from the corner of his eye, relaxing when she nodded along with him.

The reporter, like a hungry animal, leaned forward, eyeing both of them up. “What about the rumours that you two are dating? Are they true?”

Jirou stiffened, and Bakugou’s scowl grew, but he held back. It was better that Jirou did the talking for this one. “Yes.” Jirou lied quickly. “We’ve been trying to keep it somewhat under wraps, but it’s true. We just prefer to keep it quiet and stay out of the spotlight when we can.”

“Wow, that’s exciting news! How long has this been going on?” The interviewer exclaimed, feigning enthusiasm. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. He didn’t like the look on this guy’s face. Was he trying to lead Jirou into a trap? 

“About 3 months, it’s still fairly new to both of us.” Jirou smiled, keeping up face for the cameras.

“Huh, that’s strange. What about the rumours of you and your bandmate, Kaminari? I heard there were speculations about the two of you dating. Do you have feelings for him? What about your fans? Don’t you think they’ll be disappointed?”

Jirou seemed to freeze up, and Katsuki scowled, noticing how uncomfortable she was becoming under all the pressure. He felt obligated to intervene, after all, he was part of the reason she’d been dragged into this. Enji probably would have left her alone if it wasn’t for Katsuki’s reputation. He knew the guilt he carried was misplaced, but he could hardly help but feel as though this was partly his fault too. He felt even worse with each longing gaze Kaminari and Jirou shared when they thought the other wasn’t looking. The least he could do now was defend her, he owed her as much.

“That’s enough.” Katsuki interjected. “It’s a speculation for a reason: it’s only a train of wishful thinking. Jirou and Kaminari are bandmates, it’s natural for them to be close friends, but the accusations that they are anything beyond friends are baseless rumours. It’s also disrespectful of you not only to her, but to me as well, to try to accuse her of her feelings being fickle. Jirou is a grown woman and she can do as she pleases. If her fans don’t support her decision, then they were never real fans to begin with.” He stated, arms crossing over his chest as he spoke. He slid his gaze over to Jirou, then stood, offering his hand to her. “Come on, this is ridiculous. Let’s go.”

Jirou hesitated, but then nodded, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t place. She slipped her hand into his, and he lead her out to the viewing room where Shouto waited, seeming surprised with what he’d just witnessed. Not like Katsuki cared. He dropped her hand with fervor as soon as they were away from the cameras.

A moment of silence flowed between the three, before Jirou interrupted. “Bakugou.. Why did you do that?” Her voice was smaller than usual.

“That guy was an ass. He was making you uncomfortable on purpose, it was sadistic. I was only calling him out. If you’re gonna lecture me, I don’t wanna he–”

“Thank you.” Jirou interrupted. “I.. really appreciate it. Thank you.”

Bakugou gave her a glance, before scoffing, folding his arms again and stalking out of the room. “Whatever. Don’t thank me.”

Bicolour eyes followed his figure out of the room, conflicting emotions raging beneath an icy surface. Peculiar. Katsuki Bakugou was peculiar.

Chapter Text

Shouto’s POV:

Shouto never let anyone get under his skin. People always tried, coming after him for being cold and abrasive, or for the ugly red scar that covered half of his face. It had calmed down as he grew up, as people matured and realized how rude that was, but he would still get the occasional comment, or someone would stare slightly too long at the left half of his face. He could feel their judgement burning into him hotter than the water that had permanently marred his skin, a constant reminder of what he’d done to his brother in the same incident.

Maybe that was why he started covering it all the time, maybe if he pretended it didn’t exist, the memories would fade away like a bad dream. Maybe, he could pretend that his brother was still healthy and not riddled with scars on every visible inch of his body. He’d spent years building up these walls, burying every insecurity, every memory of the fire, deep within his mind. So far back that he hoped to never find them again.

But when Katsuki had approached him at the pool, pointing out his scar without hesitation, he admitted he’d gotten a little irritated. He was used to comments like these, though, so he pushed his feelings back down, keeping the memories suppressed in the depths of his mind, in the prison where they belonged.

But Katsuki only pushed further. He remembered his comment about his mom and dad giving everything to him whenever he wanted, and his blood boiled. All the memories were forced back to the forefront of his mind. The yelling, his eldest brother in his room covering Shouto’s ears to silence their mother’s broken cries that echoed through the halls of the Todoroki home. As bad as it was, he never actually thought his father would hit him or his other siblings.

Until he did.

These thoughts would swirl in his head, weighing down on him until he was forced to the ground, down on his knees with his shoulders slouched over like he was praying, willing it all to go away. One memory would lead to another, and they would all eventually circle back to the fire.

His fault. His fault. It was all his fault.

He remembered telling Bakugou to shut up, or something along those lines, but really, everything was blurred. His ears rang, he couldn’t see straight. His blood pounded through his veins, and his fingers twitched.

He wanted to strangle Katsuki. Everything in his body ached for him to hit him.

But he didn’t. He was better than that, right? He wasn’t his father.

In that moment, he briefly wondered if Katsuki could see the self hatred in his two tone eyes.

Lost in his thoughts, he absent-mindedly poured himself a cup of tea, leaning back against the counter with one hand propper up behind him as he took a slow sip, gazing distantly at his patio door. He couldn’t allow himself to stay lost in his thoughts forever, it would do him no good. All he could really do was just accept that Katsuki was just trying to provoke him, and move on.

The tea scalded his tongue, and he winced, pulling the cup away from his lips and setting it down to let it cool for a while longer. He really had a bad habit of getting burned, didn’t he?

That same morning, a call had come in from a nearby news station, requesting to do a report on Katsuki and Jirou’s relationship. Shouto, mostly out of spite for the overly-aggressive blonde, had double checked with only Jirou to make sure the time worked for her, and then hastily agreed, only calling up Bakugou after.

It didn’t surprise Shouto when Katsuki turned up late for his interview, hair messy and windswept, equipped with his signature scowl. What did surprise Shouto was how Katsuki acted during the interview. He had seen another side of the blonde that he’d never gotten the chance to see before. The reporter had acted disrespectfully toward Jirou, and Katsuki was quick to shut him down and defend the girl, even taking her by the hand and leading her out after.

Sure, it may have just been for show. At least, that’s what Shouto tried to convince himself. But Shouto was forced to accept the truth eventually. Katsuki was many things, but he was not a liar, and the expression Katsuki wore on his face after was undeniably one of concern toward his friend.

Shouto was forced to start seeing Katsuki in a new light, realizing that he wasn’t as selfish as he came off to be. He was mean, aggressive, and an instigator, but he still cared about the people around him. He was still human, and Shouto was almost curious to find out who he really was under all those hostile remarks and piercing glares.

Shouto could see Touya in him. He wasn’t sure how much he liked that comparison.

He checked the time on his phone, grimacing as he realized he had to meet said boxer along with Jirou in a little over an hour. He had hardly gotten ready yet, spending his morning in a tired daze and mindlessly going through the motions of brushing his teeth and performing his excessive skin care routine the modelling agency had him on. He swore it was like one of those long scrolls that never stops unravelling. He vaguely remembered asking if they were serious the first time they’d given him this list. Who the hell needed a 12 step skin-care routine?

He hated modelling. He was only doing it because his father forced him into it, but what say did he have as his father’s prize poster child? None. Exactly zero.

He wished he could be more like Touya. Fearless. But he would always be the scared little boy hiding behind his eldest brother, clinging to his arm like a leech whenever he was scared, which was almost all the time.

God, he was pathetic.

He picked out an outfit for the day, pulling on his signature black turtleneck and a pair of black dress pants. Relaxed, but screaming rich, especially with the expensive black and gold (real, solid gold) belt that hung around his hips. Picture perfect, just like father wants. He looked great.

He hated it.

Using just enough makeup to cover his scar and smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt, he stepped away from the mirror, finally feeling normal enough to go out into public.

He checked the time, frowning when he noticed what time it was. He’d still get to the meeting on time, if not a bit early, but he’d spent longer than anticipated just getting ready. Oh well, he’d just have to skip breakfast. His father would be pleased he was watching his weight, he thought, snorting to himself.

He stepped into his boots, quickly lacing them up and heading out to his garage, where his modest red Kona sat, the one thing he had that didn’t cost him obscene amounts of money. While he had bought it brand new, he’d done it with his own money, not his father’s stupid card. It wasn’t anything special like his brother’s Range Rover, but he loved it nonetheless. He wasn’t a car guy, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little attached to his car, even giving her the name ‘Kiyoko’, after much pestering from his siblings (namely Touya) to name his car.

He got in, going to plug his key in to start it up, but he frowned when the engine rolled over five times in a row without starting. He tried again, with no luck. He cursed softly under his breath. Great, now he’d definitely be late. He took great care of Kiyoko, so what was wrong with her?

He tried one more time, with no success. He slumped down in his seat, glaring at his steering wheel in defeat.

What was he supposed to do now? He could probably take an uber, but his house wasn’t directly in the city so they’d probably have to drive for a while to get him, and then drive him all the way to the agency in lunch hour traffic. It would take too long. He debated walking, but that could take up to an hour, so that was way out of the question.

His last option aside from cancelling the meeting would be to call his siblings, but Natsuo was working, Fuyumi was on vacation, and Touya..

Actually, he didn’t know what Touya was doing. He wasn’t allowed to talk about his work, so he never knew what he was up to or where he was.

His gaze shifted to his phone, and he reached for it, hesitating with his hand hovering just above it.

No, Touya was probably busy, right? He was always working. He wouldn’t have time for Shouto, and besides, he was probably out of the city right about now.

He caught himself in his own hesitance, frowning at his excuses. Since when had he started doubting himself like this? All he was doing was asking if he could pick him up, so why did he feel so weird about it? Like he was inconveniencing him? Getting in his way?

He sighed, shaking his head and causing his bangs to sway out of place, returning back to their natural position, falling just in front of his eyes. He really needed to trim them back. Picking up his phone, he clicked on his favourite contact, pressing the phone to his ear as it rang.

“Hey, Shou! What’s up?” His brother’s voice came through, unusually enthusiastic. Shouto furrowed his brows in confusion. Was he really that happy he’d called?

“Shou? Hello?” Shouto swore under his breath, realizing he forgot to respond.

“Sorry, I got distracted.” He licked his lips, clearing his throat before adding- “Hi.”

“Did you need something, why’d you call?”

“Yeah–” He heard some rustling in the background, and a familiar voice came through the speaker, but it was muffled in the background. Touya mumbled a quiet ‘yeah’, on the other side, and Shouto’s eyes widened the slightest bit.

“Is that Keigo?”

He could feel his brothers hesitation in his reply, probably remembering how Shouto had teased him last time the blonde was mentioned, and then a few seconds later he gave a long, resigned sigh.

“Yeah. Now hurry up and tell me what you want.” He snapped. Shouto felt a small smile tug at his lips. Touya was embarrassed.

“Are you anywhere near my place? I have a meeting in 15 minutes and my car is broken.”

“Shit, Kiyoko is down?” He asked, seeming genuinely sad, as if the car were a real person. Shouto had to admit he was a little upset too, but he knew she probably wasn’t broken forever– probably. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s wrong. She won’t start. I don’t have time to check right now, because I really have to go.” Shouto admitted, tracing his fingers over the red stitching on his steering wheel.

“Okay, I’m about 3 minutes from your house right now. I’ll be there in five, you’ll still be a bit late though.” He added, and Shouto sighed, his shoulders rolling back as the tension ran off like water. “That’s okay. Thank you.”

“No problem, bro. I’ll see you soon.”

The second the line cut, he started gathering his things, walking out to the end of his driveway to wait. As promised, Touya pulled up no less than five minutes later, sleek black range rover coming to a rather abrupt stop inches before his mailbox. Shouto shot a pointed glare at the driver’s side as he got in.

“You almost destroyed my mailbox.”

“Really? Looks like it’s still standing to me.”

Shouto rolled his eyes, then paused when a brown paper bag was held in front of him, dangling from tanned fingers and rough, scarred hands. He followed the arm up to look directly at Keigo’s piercing golden eyes and signature lopsided smirk.

“Hey, kid. Got you breakfast. I know you don’t like tomatoes so I asked them to keep it off, and got you extra lettuce just how you like it.”

He watched Keigo for a while, almost in surprised, before he took it from him, opening it up to confirm. “Oh, uh.. Thanks.” He mumbled.

Keigo grinned, possibly the most genuine grin he’d ever seen. It was no wonder Touya seemed like putty in this man’s presence. His smile could melt your heart from a mile away. Shouto just wished he’d stop pestering him all the time at photoshoots. He didn’t need Keigo to parent him or act as some step in therapist.

Shouto looked around the car when Keigo finally turned away, taking notice of a few things. The first was Touya’s discarded jacket sitting in the back seat next to him, and then the second was the new car ornament that hung from his rearview mirror. It looked like a red feather. Shouto’s eyes narrowed. Those looked oddly similar to the ones Keigo had printed on the back of his flight jacket.

Oh god, he was so whipped. Shouto would have suffered second hand embarrassment, except he was now fuelled with the unyielding desire to tease and embarrass his brother. It was his birthright as his favourite brother.

“Why are you with Keigo?” He asked bluntly, catching notice of the way they looked at each other briefly before glancing back at the road.

“We were just checking out a cafe near your place, it’s pretty popular and one of my coworkers swears by it, so we went to grab coffee.” Touya explained, glaring at Shouto in the rearview mirror. He wasn’t stupid. He knew where this was going. Shouto smirked. 

“Like a date?”

Immediately, Touya inhaled sharply, undoubtedly inhaling just enough air to yell at him, and Keigo tensed uncomfortably. If the printed red wings on the back of his jacket were real, he was positive they would have been ruffled up right now. The thought amused him, but he didn’t crack a laugh.

“NO!” Touya yelled, his face flushed a soft shade of pink. “If you say something like that again, I’ll crash this car.”

“You won’t.” Shouto said confidently, his eyes flashing with the promise of saying something that would for sure make his brother hesitate before inviting him into his apartment ever again. “You wouldn’t want to hurt your lover boy, right?”

It was a term he’d learned from Bakugou not too long ago, when he’d referred to Kaminari as such to Jirou one time. He’d tucked it safely into his back pocket to use against his brother, along with the other terms stored in there to use at any opportunity that arose.

He loved his brother, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t go out of his way to make his life hell at least once in a while. 

Touya took a long, dramatic inhale, before twisting around in his seat and yelling “WHAT?!”, so loud, that he was surprised the glass windows didn’t break. Keigo was in the front seat, turned away from both of them so he couldn’t see his face, but Shouto could see how red the tips of his ears were.

Shouto put on an innocent face. “What? Isn’t that what he is?”

“Where the hell did you learn that from?” He scowled, eyes reluctantly fixed back to the road so he didn’t actually crash.

“Bakugou.” He responded blandly, not explaining any further. He’d mentioned Bakugou to Touya once when he found out he would be working with him. Touya’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why the hell is Bakugou calling you lover boy?”

Shouto felt his cheeks warm, embarrassed and mortified at his brother’s words. “What? He didn’t call me that– he said it about one of my friends.”

Touya let out a relieved sigh. “Shouto, you fuckin’ scared me. He better not be calling you that.”

“I would not hesitate to body slam him if that happened.”

Keigo, finally recovering from his embarrassment, chuckled at Shouto’s words. “Good. He’d deserve it.”

“God, you have no idea.” Touya groaned. “I’ve seen his interviews online, the guy is so fucking stuck up, you can tell he thinks he’s better than everyone else. Just looking at him you can tell he’s the selfish type, uses everyone else for his own benefit.”

For some reason, Shouto felt uncomfortable just now, almost like someone had just insulted him. But that was impossible, neither Keigo or Touya would ever do that. Why did he feel so bothered?

Before he could stop himself, the words fell from his mouth.

“I don’t think he’s that bad.” He paused. Why had he said that?

Touya frowned as if he wasn’t expecting this response from him. “No, I’ve seen him, he’s a total ass.”

“How would you even know? You’ve never met him in real life, maybe he just doesn’t like reporters.”

Touya looked like he was going to say more, but Keigo reached out, placing a tentative hand on his arm. Touya glanced at him, back at Shouto, frowned, and then looked back at the road.

“Whatever, just be careful is all I’m saying. The guy is unpredictable.”

Shouto was confused. Why had he defended Bakugou of all people? The guy he was just thinking about strangling. The guy who went out of his way to provoke him at the pool. Was this because of what he did for Jirou? Was his will that easily swayed? Shouto had always thought he was stubborn, but maybe he was mistaken.

Touya stopped the car in front of Endeavor’s agency, cringing and pulling his sunglasses down over his eyes as if he were trying to make himself look inconspicuous. “We’re here.”

Shouto shouldered his bag. “Thanks for the ride. Thanks for breakfast, Keigo. I appreciate it.” He smiled the slightest bit. Keigo looked like he was on top of the world as he reached out to ruffle Shouto’s hair. “No problem, kiddo. Any time.”

He waved to both of them, turning to leave, but before he could, Touya stepped out of the car, locking it quickly. “Come on, I’ll walk you up.”

Shouto was a little weirded out by his brothers behaviour. “I thought you hated it here.”

Touya scoffed. “I do, but I want to see what it looks like, and what better time than when that asshole is out of the country?”

Shouto shrugged. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“Positive.” He grinned, holding the door open for Shouto. He blanked. “That’s the wrong door.”

“Oh.” Touya let go, moving over to the glass doors slightly more to the right. “Not my fault this idiot has.. What is that, a Starbucks? Inside his building. That’s so unnecessary.”

Shouto decided to not mention the fact that the Starbucks was even there was because he had requested it.

“Which way do we go?”

“The elevator.” Shouto lifted a hand to point. “Top floor.”

Touya pressed the button to call the elevator down. They both stepped in the moment it opened, and Shouto pressed the button to go to the top floor. The doors closed, the elevator dinged, and it started going up. He checked the time and sighed. “I’m late. I hope Jirou and Bakugou are still there.”

Touya fidgeted with something in his pocket, humming in agreement as he watched the numbers go up with each floor.

“What do you think about Keigo?” Touya asked suddenly, looking uncharacteristically nervous when Shouto looked back at him. He tilted his head curiously.

“I like him. I think he’s a little annoying when he tries to parent me, but I know he’s just concerned. I also know for a fact he likes you.” He added on at the end. “I think you should tell him how you feel.”

“Shouto!” He seethed.

“What? You asked.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, his expression gradually softening.

“..Do you really think he likes me?”

“Yes.” Shouto affirmed instantly. “He looks at you like you’re the one who hung the stars in the sky. Yes, he likes you. He even talks to me about you. Excessively. Please put a muzzle on him or something so he talks less. He’d probably like that though.”

Touya’s jaw dropped. “Shouto! Where did you learn that?!”

“I’m an adult, with adult friends. They talk, I unfortunately listen.”

Their conversation was cut off as the elevator doors slid open. The first thing Shouto saw was a fuming Bakugou. In his face. Literally right in his face. 

“You’re late.” He growled. Shouto stared at him evenly, coolly. “Apologies, my car broke down.” He explained. That seemed to be enough for Katsuki to back off, though it wasn’t without a huff. “Whatever, don’t do it again. You’re wasting my time.”

Shouto nodded. Jirou waved at him, giving him a quick greeting, and Shouto gave a tiny wave back.

“Who the hell is this freak? ” Katsuki bit out, eyes set on Touya who just smirked back at him, like he knew something he didn’t. Shouto knew that look, and he didn’t like it. It never ended in anything good.

“Your worst nightmare.” Touya answered. Shouto rolled his eyes when he saw Katsuki practically vibrating with anger because of Touya’s attitude. He grabbed the blonde by the back collar of his shirt, desensitized to his tantrums by now, and dragged him over to the desk. Bakugou fought him the whole way, arms swinging at nothing as Shouto held him at arm’s length, half expecting him to try to bite him like a rabid dog. 

“Sit down, Bakugou.”

“Like hell I’ll listen to you!” He barked.

He shrugged. “Fine, don’t sit then. I don’t want you to dirty my chair.”

Katsuki, like a child, took the bait, sitting down with an annoyed snarl. “Shut up and stop ordering me around!”

Touya walked over to the desk next along with Jirou. Touya walked around to Shouto’s side, removing his hands from his pockets and laying them palms down on his desk, leaning his body weight onto it to give his legs a small break. Jirou sat next to Bakugou, and Shouto looked at Touya questioningly. “You don’t have to stay. Keigo is waiting for you.” 

Touya shrugged, stretching his arms over his head. “I guess you’re right. See you later, Shou.” He grinned, ruffling his hair in a brotherly manner. Shouto frowned at him. “Yeah, bye.”

The elevator slid shut once again, taking Touya back down to the first floor. Shouto sighed, turning to a scowling Bakugou and a patient Jirou. “Sorry for being late, I had to get my brother to drive me.”

“No worries, I get it. I had to get Kaminari to jump start my car last week, he’s scarily skilled with electrical stuff.” Jirou smiled.

“That’s your brother? You look nothing alike, except the scars.”

Something changed in Shouto’s eyes. Something cold and distant, not directed at Katsuki though. It seemed like he was staring at nothing in particular with the most contempt and loathing he’s ever seen in his entire life. Katsuki almost pitied whoever was on the receiving end of such a glare.

Just as quick as his mood had changed though, it switched back like nothing had happened.

“He dyes his hair.” Shouto mumbled, sidestepping the question. If Katsuki noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“So, why are we here?” Jirou asked. “Do we need to do any more public appearances?”

“No.” Shouto shook his head. “I called you here for something more personal. The media seems really invested in your relationship with Kaminari in particular. I’m worried that pushing this fake relationship any further will strain your band’s dynamic.”

“There’s nothing between me and Kaminari–”

“Oh, please, Ears. Look at yourself. You practically swoon every time he enters the room.” Katsuki scoffed. 

“I do not!” Jirou looked to Shouto for support.

“He’s not wrong.”

“ You! The two of you are insufferable!” She groaned, head in her hands.

“I think we should stay out of the public eye for the time being. Jirou, do you have any more tours coming up?”

Jirou shook her head. “No, our next one is a month away.”

Katsuki scoffed. “I have a match against Deku next week, but after that I have a few weeks off.”

“Okay, that should be enough. We should have you two lay low for now, I think we’ve already caused enough of a stir for the time being.”

He frowned a bit, questioning why they even had to do this. He knew his father had something against both of them, but he’d never been told what. 

“What does my father have against you anyway?”

Jirou tensed, and Bakugou’s scowl grew.

“None of your fucking business.” Katsuki snapped. Jirou frowned, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. It’s not my story to tell.”

Shouto shrugged, but internally he knew this would pose a problem. If he didn’t know what he was dealing with, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do to directly distract the media from the problem. “It’s okay. I understand it’s personal. I’ll do the best I can even in the dark.”

If Shouto was being completely honest, he didn’t want to go through with the engagement at all. He was going to try to hold it off for as long as he could. His parents had been in an arranged marriage, and his feelings about these arrangements were rooted deep. He would never be the cause of someone else’s misery if he could help it. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, knowing that he couldn’t directly stop it on his own. He’d just have to hold it off until his father came back, while still keeping Jirou and Bakugou relevant in the news. He wondered if he could drag this on long enough for the news stations to eventually forget all about the blackmail his father had paid them off for. He knew no amount of money his father could give would satisfy them forever, and he seemed to know that too, since he planned this whole thing in the first place. The two would never be safe now, because there was absolutely no way they could delete the blackmail from existence forever, not when he had no idea just how many stations had the evidence.

“What the hell are you thinking about Peppermint?”

Shouto quirked a brow. That was a new one. Jirou elbowed him in the side and he hissed, turning his glare to her. “What the hell!”

“He has a name, genius.”

“Shut up! I know that!”

Ignoring their bickering, Shouto started to formulate a plan. His brows furrowed. It would be impossible for them to lay low in the middle of the city like this. The streets were crawling with reporters, and with the stir they’d created recently (garnering many outside opinions, which caused Jirou to lose a few ride or die KamiJirou fans), he seriously doubted they’d get a chance to breathe. With Katsuki’s temper, that was a recipe for disaster and could derail their whole plan, as well as damaging his reputation further. Part of him wondered why he should care, and maybe Katsuki kind of deserved it for how shitty his personality was, but he shoved those thoughts back. Katsuki had proved that he wasn’t all that bad, so why did he still feel angry with him? Did what he say really get to him that much, or did his personality just tick him off aside from the occasional time he acted like a decent human being. He didn’t really know, nor did he have time to dwell on it right now.

“One of my friends has a cottage a few miles out of the city, I think we should lay low there after Bakugou’s fight.” He suggested.

Katsuki made a ‘tch’ sound, but didn’t say anything more. Jirou looked thoughtful. “Like a vacation?”

“..Sort of. You can still do all of your training and anything you need to do, but stay off the streets. There will likely be reporters everywhere and they’ll jump on you the second they see you, especially with the stir we’ve created. By the way, good work, Bakugou. Your fans really liked how you defended Jirou in that interview, it really sold your cover.”

He scoffed in response, looking away and out the window, but something in his expression softened. “Whatever, it didn’t mean anything. That guy was pissing me off.”

No, Katsuki Bakugou wasn’t all that bad, he decided.

“Can I invite Kirishima and Kaminari?” Jirou asked. Shouto hummed thoughtfully before ultimately agreeing. “Sure. It would make sense for them to lay low for a while too, since the reporters might try to talk to them too. They don’t know the full story so it’s possible they might let something slip. I just need to ask Ashido if that’s okay.”

Katsuki turned at the sound of her name. “You’re talking about Pinky’s cottage?”

Shouto nodded. “Yes. Have you been there?”

“Once, in high school. Kirishima made me go.” He huffed begrudgingly. “They were so loud and annoying.”

“Okay, good. That makes it easier. I’ll contact Ashido to make arrangements and then I’ll send you both the address.”

Katsuki looked like he’d argue, but he kept quiet, folding his arms over his chest and frowning. “Can I go now?”

Shouto nodded. “Yes, that’s all I needed. Thank you both for coming in.”

“Whatever.”

“Thanks, Todoroki!” Jirou smiled, waving him goodbye as she stepped into the elevator with Bakugou, who promptly shouted at her to get out of his way. Neither of them paid him much mind.

The elevator closed, and he leaned back in his chair, letting a small breath escape him. He stared at the spot where his brother had planted his hands on his desk not half an hour earlier, the silent exchange that had happened between him and Bakugou not escaping him.

What are you planning, Touya?

Chapter Text

(**** POV)

(Error)

Private investigator, huh?

Crimson eyes stared at the screen in front of him, pausing his digging. He watched in real time as the man he was watching searched various links, with absolutely no luck. A smirk lifted the corner of his lips.

“You owe me one, Dabi.”

(Warning: System Malfunction. A virus has been detected.)

(Error)

(Error.)

(ERROR.)

(Bakugou’s POV):

Katsuki grumbled, plugging his phone in for the 8th time and wiggling the charger, trying to get it to take a charge. He felt hope when it buzzed lightly in his hand, but the green charging symbol only lasted for a moment before it was gone as quickly as it came. He groaned in annoyance.

Today was his fight with stupid Deku, and everything that could have gone wrong this morning had. First, his phone wouldn’t take a charge. He didn’t know if it was his stupid phone that was fried or the cord itself. His father was the one who was better with technology, but of course, he couldn’t ask him for help because both his parents were on their yearly vacation. 

Second, his breakfast had been ruined this morning when he realized he’d forgotten to buy groceries after coming home last night. He wasn’t used to living alone, and usually his mom would buy the groceries or remind him to do so. But again, she was on vacation. He couldn’t even fault his parents not being there for him, either, he was fully to blame and he knew it.

Third and finally, when he had gone to get groceries this morning so he could actually make himself breakfast, he discovered his bike had broken down. The nearest grocery store was outside the neighbourhood, almost an hour of walking away, and he didn’t have that kind of time on his hands today. He ended up using the last of his phone battery to call Todoroki to give him a ride to his fight today. The other man had agreed without much complaint, and only a few questions, which was something he guessed he could be grateful for.

And to top it all off, while he was sitting at his desk, simmering in this morning’s misfortunes, Kiwi meowed proudly at him, drawing his attention to her. He groaned, giving her an unimpressed look. “Kiwi! Are you eating mom’s plants again? I told you not to do that.” He scolded, reaching over and prying the uprooted houseplant out of her maw. She meowed offendedly, hissing at him in complaint and then jumping up onto his bed.

“Mom is gonna kill me..” He grumbled under his breath, taking the plant back to the pot and trying to replant the poor thing. He was no gardener, but his mom had made him help in the garden as a kid, so he at least somewhat knew what to do. He placed it back in the pot, patting the soil down around it in an attempt to save it.

Plants made Katsuki anxious. He wouldn’t know if he did it right until a few days later, when it either withered away and died, or grew flourishing new leaves. He was impatient by nature, and he wanted to see results right away.

After fixing the plant as best as he knew how and cleaning up the dirt pile Kiwi left on the floor, he hastily checked the time.

Jesus, it’s already 9:30? 

Time had really slipped by without him noticing. That was out of character for him. He was usually super on top of everything. He couldn’t help but be a little frustrated with himself as he realized Shouto would be here in the next 15 minutes, and he hadn’t even eaten or had a chance to shower yet.

..He could always shower after his match.

He cringed a little at the thought. No. He was a very clean person, and he knew he wouldn’t perform at his best if he felt dirty. He needed to shower.

After one quick shower and struggling to find his boxing gear, he tugged on his shoes, patting Kiwi on the head as he stepped out the door.

“Be good while I’m gone.” He pleaded, knowing the little orange devil had a mind of her own and would do as she pleased regardless of his warnings. She meowed sweetly in response, and Katsuki could only sigh in response, giving her one last pat before walking towards the sidewalk and looking for the most pompous rich boy car he could find. Todoroki had to drive something expensive, right? He was probably just like any other pretty boy riding off of daddy’s money.

Except the car that pulled up in front of his house was not expensive at all. It looked newer, sure, but it was just like any other regular vehicle out there. Todoroki stepped out of the driver’s side door of his red Hyundai, walking over to the passenger’s side and opening the door when he saw Bakugou approaching.

Katsuki scoffed at this display, pointedly ignoring Todoroki’s polite greeting as he ripped the door from his hands. “I can open the door myself, idiot! Get back in and drive.” He scowled, buckling himself into his seat with an overly aggressive motion. Todoroki stared blankly at him before shrugging. “Ok.” He said, walking back to his side of the car and leaving Bakugou to close his own door.

Todoroki climbed back into his side of the car and shifted it into drive, cruising down the street and taking a left out of the neighborhood. Katsuki scowled. It was too quiet in here. Todoroki didn’t have any music playing at all, just the sound of deafening silence ringing in his eardrums. Katsuki hated the silence.

He was looking for something to fill the space, and was just about to comment on Todoroki’s slow driving when said man filled the space for him. “You have a cat?”

Katsuki’s eye twitched. “Yeah. What about it? Are you spying on me now?”

Todoroki shrugged. “No, I just saw it in the window when you were leaving. It jumped into the glass. Kind of hard to miss.” He said bluntly, and Katsuki held back a groan. She had probably been trying to catch a bird again.

A moment of silence passed. Katsuki waited for him to continue. He gritted his teeth in annoyance when he didn’t. “..You got cats or something?” He asked, cringing a little at the sound of his own question. It sounded like he actually cared about Shouto’s personal life, and that definitely wasn’t the case. He was only doing this for his own sake, so he didn’t have to spend the entire drive in uncomfortable silence. This was to help him unwind before the fight, nothing more.

“No.” Shouto answered, eyes locked on the road. “But I like cats. My brother’s friend has one. His name is Cinder.” He shared, offering a piece of information from his personal life. Katsuki squinted at him. Why was he telling him this?

At Katsuki’s silence, he continued. “Sometimes he drops him off at Touya’s house when he has work, so I get to see him sometimes.”

“Didn’t ask.” Katsuki scoffed, glaring out the window. Why was he sharing all this? It was weird and uncomfortable. He was acting like they were friends when they most definitely were not.

The silence returned, swallowing them both whole. Katsuki scowled again. Maybe he shouldn’t have snapped at him like that. It almost would’ve been better if he’d kept talking.

Todoroki clicked his blinker on, then turned. They were still about twenty minutes from the venue.

He stared at the houses they passed, trying to count how many fucking rose bushes he saw because those were his mom’s favourite flowers.

Four so far.

He really, really hated the silence.

“Her name is Kiwi.” He grumbled almost inaudibly, a pout fixed on his face as he stared out the window. For the first time since they’d started driving, Shouto’s eyes drifted to him.

“What?” He asked, confusion evident in his voice. Katsuki felt his eyes boring into him for a few more seconds before his attention was back on the road.

“Kiwi.” He repeated again, louder this time. “My cat.”

Katsuki didn’t miss the shift in the atmosphere. He wasn’t dumb. He knew part of the reason for the discomfort he felt in the car was because of their unresolved spat at the pool just a few weeks prior. This was the first civil conversation they’d had since then, or even since they first met. It didn’t make them friends by any means, especially not when Shouto and his father were sticking Katsuki in an arranged marriage with some chick he barely knew, but it did make Katsuki feel slightly less on edge. 

He was only doing this for himself.

“Kiwi.” Shouto repeated, the name rolling off his lips easily. “Like the fruit?”

Katsuki scowled again. “Yes, like the fruit, dumbass. What else would she be named after?” And there he was again, back on his nerves.

“I like it.” Todoroki commented, glancing at him one more time before looking back at the road.

“Tch, I don’t need your opinion.” Katsuki scoffed, folding his arms and puffing his chest out like a proud rooster. Todoroki ignored him, ending the conversation with his silence and focusing fully on driving.

It didn’t take long after that for them to get to the venue the fight would be held at. There were a few fights happening before Katsuki’s, so he had a bit of time to relax between his weigh-in and his actual fight.

Todoroki parked his SUV in a reserved spot at the back of the building, where the fighters were meant to part, and unlocked the doors, climbing out. Katsuki grabbed his gym bag without another word, triple-checking that he had everything he needed. He got out of the SUV wordlessly, then started walking ahead of Todoroki, who followed after him. 

Katsuki narrowed his eyes, turning to glare at Todoroki. “The hell are you following me for? Get lost.”

“I’m coming with you.” He said matter-of-factly, as if this were something they had discussed one hundred times in the past.

“No you’re not.” He huffed, slinging his bag over his shoulder and shoving his hands into his pockets. “I don’t need you.”

“I know.” Todoroki said, still refusing to leave. “But unfortunately for both of us, I’m not allowed to leave you alone at big events because you’re a ticking time bomb and my father says you need to be coached on how to act.”

“Oh please, as if he knows how to act.” He snapped. “Your dad is so fake, it makes me sick.” He gagged as if to prove his point. He almost thought, for a split second, that he saw Todoroki’s lips tug upwards at the corners, but that was impossible. Todoroki didn’t smile. He was pretty sure it was impossible.

It didn’t matter anyways. He didn’t care if he made him laugh or not. It meant nothing to him regardless.

“Maybe, but he has a point.” Todoroki insisted. “You have a bad reputation as it is. I’m here to prevent it from getting worse. That’s my job.”

“It’s not my fault the press are a bunch of pussies who can’t handle the truth. Why are they prying into my personal life anyway?”

Todoroki shrugged. “It’s kind of their job.”

“Whatever.” He scoffed. “Follow me if you want. I don’t care. Just stay out of my damn way.” Katsuki finally relented, shoulders slouched in a sulking manner as he walked into the back stadium entrance.

Todoroki followed him so silently he almost had to look back to check if he was actually following, but he knew he was there. They checked in at the door, then went to weigh-ins.

Katsuki passed his weigh-in and got his gear back after it had been checked, shoving it all back into his gym bag. He made his way up to the waiting room, where a few fighters were chatting, and ones who had fights coming up soon sparred lightly with each other or talked with their coaches. He shot a glare back at Todoroki, who now stood silently behind him, taking everything in with curious eyes.

“The hell are you staring at?” He grumbled, tossing his bag down carelessly on one of the benches. Todoroki blinked, looking back to the explosive blonde as if he’d been pulled out of deep thought.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but shook his head. “Nothing.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, deciding he didn’t care enough to try to pry an answer out of him. “Whatever.”

He sat down next to his bag, rummaging through his bag for his wraps. He wished his coach was here with him today. It felt weird not having him here, but he knew the man had a family and other priorities. Still, it was the first meet he wouldn’t be here for.

Katsuki pushed these feelings aside, deeming them insignificant. It didn’t matter anyway, he’d perform just as well as he normally did. He knew his coach was watching on the TV, he just wouldn’t be here to give him any advice.

“Hey, Kacchan!”

“SHUT UP!” He snarled, whirling on the green-haired boy in an instant. “Get out of my sight, nerd!”

“..I just wanted to wish you good luck.” Midoriya said meekly, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. 

“As if I’ll need luck. You think you’re better than me, huh? I’ll beat you so bad you’ll never show your face here again!” Katsuki declared boldly. Seriously, who did Midoriya think he was? Good luck? Did he seriously think he needed stupid luck on his side?

“No, that’s not it at all!” He defended, trying to calm the blonde down. “I mean I’ve been training for this fight for a long time, and I’m happy it’s finally happening. I’m really looking forward to fighting you, so I hope you do your best!”

Was he bragging? Katsuki glared at him, about to make another snarky remark before Todoroki cut him off. “Midoriya.” He greeted. 

“Oh, Todoroki! I didn’t know you were going to be here.” He exclaimed, a warm smile on his face as he saw his friend. Todoroki’s demeanour seemed a bit lighter now too, obviously more relaxed now that his friend was here. Katsuki scoffed, turning back to his wraps and trying to tune them out.

“I’m here with Bakugou.” He explained, gesturing to the blonde, who was still wrapping his hands.

Midoriya made a small sound of understanding. “Oh, right. I forgot about that.”

Todoroki nodded in acknowledgement. “I don’t blame you. You have a lot going on. I’m not here by choice, but it’s my job to make sure he doesn’t get any more bad press than he already has.” He explained bluntly. “But I admit I’m looking forward to your match, Midoriya. I know you’ve been training hard.”

Katsuki quirked a brow. Were they seriously talking about him as if he wasn’t there? He felt something uncomfortable brewing in the pit of his stomach, and for a second he thought he might be sick.

He gagged childishly to voice his distaste. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here, idiots. And Todoroki, aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

Midoriya spoke up for him. “Well– it’s not really about picking sides. I’m sure he’s rooting for both of us to do well, Kacchan!”

“I didn’t ask you, stupid Deku.” He scowled. “I asked him. ” He said, glare shifting to Todoroki.

Todoroki seemed to think for a moment, before shrugging. “I don’t know a lot about fighting, so it’s hard to pick a side, but if I had to I would naturally choose Midoriya.” He stated.

His words left a bitter taste in Katsuki’s mouth, and the discomfort in his stomach grew. Was something wrong with him? Why did he feel so sick? Was it because he didn’t eat this morning? Probably, right?

“Whatever. I don’t need you anyway.” He huffed, finishing his wraps and standing up, walking over until he was face to face with Midoriya. He glared down at him, his eyes more intense and focused than usual. He didn’t miss the way Midoriya shivered under his gaze, and he felt a thrill of satisfaction roll through him. He was intimidated. Good.

“I don’t need his favour to kick your ass, Deku. I will win.”

And he wasn’t bluffing either. He would make sure of it.

Shortly after his declaration to Midoriya, he had wandered off to the stadium entrance to watch the fights before his. Two fights before his, there was a guy named Tetsutetsu who was apparently new to the ring. He was against one of Katsuki’s old rivals, who he’d beaten with ease in his first year of competing. Yo Shindo. He was a real piece of work. A whole lot of taunting, some evasive moves, but no real power to him. He was quicker than Katsuki, but once Katsuki figured out his style, Shindo didn’t stand a chance.

Shindo won the match, but Tetsutetsu came close, making a decent impact for his boxing debut and garnering a few fans who liked his positive, outgoing personality.

The next match, just before his, was Shuichi Iguchi facing off against Sako Atsuhiro. He had seen these two chatting it up in the waiting room earlier, and they had been in the sport for years now, even longer than Katsuki himself. He had never faced off against either of them, but he knew they were good. They would be a good match to watch.

..If he could actually get a moment of peace to watch said match.

“Yo, Bakubro!” Someone called from behind him, and he groaned loudly to voice his distaste. “What the hell are you extras doing here? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“We’re here to cheer you on!” Kaminari grinned, giving Katsuki a clap on his shoulder like they were old pals. Katsuki shrugged him off with a scowl.

Kirishima, Kaminari, Jirou, and Mina were here to cheer him on. “This isn’t a concert. Get lost.” He grumbled, turning his glare to Mina. “And what the hell are you doing here, Pinky?”

“Kirishima invited me! You know I had to come support you!” She giggled. He groaned. Kirishima, he understood. Kirishima and him had been friends for years, but why were the other three here? He supposed he could understand Jirou too, because they had to keep up the whole fake dating act, but still, why?

He bit his tongue, resisting the urge to call them extras again. “Whatever. Just stay out of my way.” He relented. “And stop acting like we’re friends. We’re not.”

Kaminari snorted. “That’s what you think.”

Katsuki shot him a chilling glare that instantly shut him up. He looked back to the fight, only to find it was already over. He scowled. Of course they had distracted him. He didn’t even get to hear who won.

Katsuki pulled his gloves on as they wrapped up the previous match, tying and fastening them off with his teeth. Kirishima looked at him, obviously ready to step in to help. “Do you need any help with that?” 

“Nope.” He said through his teeth, tying his gloves off with his tongue. “‘M fine.”

Mina’s eyes went wide, and she stared at him with her jaw dropped. “Jesus.” She giggled, nudging Jirou with her elbow. “You’re a lucky girl, Jirou.”

Jirou smiled sheepishly, playing with the wires of her earbuds nervously. “Ah.. yeah.” Kaminari looked uncomfortable, his face falling as he looked away.

Katsuki furrowed his brows in confusion, for two reasons. One, Jirou hadn’t told her friends aside from Kaminari and Kirishima that this was purely arranged for publicity. He guessed that was safer, but it still caught him off guard. He had expected her to tell everyone so they could avoid weird situations like this. Two..

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He asked gruffly. Mina giggled and shrugged her shoulders. “Never mind. You have a fight to get to.”

He scoffed. He wanted to argue more, but she was right. The announcer, a blonde man with an obnoxiously loud voice and glasses, was already calling their names.

“IS EVERYONE READY?!” The man shouted, trying to rile up the crowd. “THIS IS THE FIGHT YOU’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR.. TWO OF OUR MOST RENOWNED CHAMPIONS! THE RISING STAR IZUKU MIDORIYA, VERSUS THE UNDEFEATED KATSUKI BAKUGOU! EVERYONE, SHOW THEM SOME LOVE!!”

There was a tired sigh over the speakers, and it was then Bakugou noticed another person standing in the announcer’s box. He was like the polar opposite of the first one, with messy black hair and a scarf wrapped around his neck despite the heat in the room. He looked like he would rather be anywhere else.

Bakugou didn’t have time to worry about the announcers. He walked up to the ring, popping in his mouth guard and slipping under the ropes. He noticed Todoroki in his corner in place of his coach, and he squinted his eyes a little in irritation.

He didn’t have any time to focus on that, though, not when Midoriya was getting ready across from him. He looked up, meeting Katsuki’s eyes. There it was. Katsuki hated that look. Midoriya was locked in.

Katsuki brought his hands up, a little closer than normal in case Midoriya decided to go in with an uppercut. That way, he could switch to high guard with ease and block him out. Not like Midoriya would get the first hit anyways. He had always been more of a defensive fighter.

“Ready.. Aizawa, do you want to do the honours?”

The black haired man sighed, reaching for the microphone. “Fine. Ref, are you ready?” He asked, just as the ref climbed into the ring. The ref, a blue haired man with a bandage across his nose, nodded and gave him a firm thumbs up.

“Good. Go ahead.”

The ref looked between the two of them, calling them to the middle. “You two ready?” He asked, getting nods from both of them. “Good. Fight hard, but fair, alright? You got this.” He sent them both back to their corners, getting out of the way and starting the match when he was far enough back.

Katsuki stepped forward, hastily going for the first hook to lower Midoriya’s guard, but to his surprise, Midoriya had prepared for this. He weaved under it, popping back up from his side and lobbing a simple jab and cross to the side of his head. Katsuki scowled, clenching his teeth around his mouth guard. That was new. Midoriya had been practicing.

But it was nothing he couldn’t deal with. He’d have to fight a little more defensive for the first round while he figured out Midoriya’s new fighting style. He went in for a double jab, leaping back out of his space with a left hook, not to actually hit him, but to put some space between them. Midoriya leapt right back into his space though, and that was when Katsuki struck with a right hook.

Except he missed. 

What the hell? Where did Midoriya go? Oh shit.

Midoriya surged upwards, catching him in the jaw with an uppercut and aiming a hook at his ribs, causing him to stumble back a few steps. What the hell? He had blinked for only a moment, while waiting for his hook to connect, and in that moment, Midoriya had disappeared from his sight. How had he let this happen?

Katsuki was pissed. He wasn’t going to let that slide. Midoriya was banking on the weaknesses in his old fighting style, so Katsuki needed to change his fighting style.

No more long right hooks. He couldn’t afford the time it took to finish one, not when Midoriya was moving this fast. Maybe when he beat him down a little, but for now, any flashy moves like that would be futile.

So, Katsuki did something he never thought he’d do. He started mimicking Midoriya’s old fighting style, playing defensive until he got close enough. Midoriya threw a cross at his head, and Katsuki ducked, changing levels and throwing a left hook and a cross at his stomach, taking advantage of his lowered guard and hitting him with an explosive uppercut that sent him reeling. Katsuki grinned, his fangs digging into the plastic of his mouthguard. He hadn’t been expecting that one.

To his surprise, Midoriya was still standing. Maybe his uppercut hadn’t been as strong as he’d thought. He waited for Midoriya to get close again, letting him throw a hook at his head. He put his guard up, slipped under it, and at the same time powered a right hook to the side of his jaw, knocking him to the floor.

The ref paused the fight, going to check on Midoriya. “You’re alright?” He asked, a hand on his arm to support him as he stood up. Midoriya nodded. “Good. Alright, go ahead.”

The match continued with the ref’s permission, and the two exchanged even punches for the first few rounds. About half way through, they were allowed a break to talk to their coaches. Midoriya retreated to his corner of the ring, crouching down to talk to Yagi Toshinori, his coach. Katsuki gritted his teeth, looking over at Todoroki. He wished his coach was here, or even his parents. Why was Shouto the only person in his corner?

“Bakugou.” He said, coming to the edge of the ring. Katsuki glared at him. “What?” He snapped, his voice muffled by the mouth guard. Was Todoroki seriously going to try to give him boxing advice? As if he’d ever listen to anything he had to say.

“Here.” He said, offering an uncapped water bottle to him. Katsuki stopped in his tracks, giving him a side eye as he looked between him and the water. Normally, his coach offered him water between rounds too, but why was Shouto doing it? Wasn’t he supposed to be rooting for Midoriya or something?

He pushed his bitter thoughts aside. Whatever. He was thirsty. He took the bottle between his gloved hands, taking a few long sips before handing it back to him. Shouto capped the bottle, putting it back down. “You’ve got this.” He reassured, and Bakugou sneered at him, his nose scrunching up with the exaggerated expression he made.

“I don’t need your encouragement.”

He ignored Todoroki for the rest of the break, until the ref called them back into the middle to fight again. They shared pretty equal results until the very last round, when everything came to a head. As things were right now, they were pretty even, so this last round would determine everything. Katsuki felt his arms growing tired, but he shook it out. Not now. He could be tired later.

To his surprise, this fight had actually been the hardest of his career so far. He had no idea when Midoriya got so good, or how, but he had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with that new coach of his. That, or he had done a lot more sparring this year.

Midoriya was getting too good, too fast, and Katsuki knew he was catching up, so he had to work a hell of a lot harder to pull back ahead.

When the final round began, he took advantage of Midoriya’s tiredness as well, reverting back to his aggressive old fighting style. He surged forward, getting into Midoriya’s space and throwing a combo at him. Midoriya managed to get his guard up in time to block the first punch, but Katsuki switched up his combo to catch his other side, which was less guarded.

Midoriya winced as the punch landed, but moved to the side, going for a few body shots and an uppercut once again. Katsuki almost caught a fist to the face, but locked his elbows together just in time for his high guard, blocking his punch out. Midoriya leapt back, a fire burning in his eyes. He wasn’t done yet, and Katsuki knew that. He couldn’t afford to be sluggish this round either.

But he couldn’t help if his body gave out before he did. Katsuki went for a combo again, but Midoriya dodged, and immediately countered with a hook to the face. Katsuki stumbled back, his ears ringing.

What the hell? His eyes were blurry. Did he really hit him that hard? No– he didn’t have time for this. He forced himself to come back to reality before Midoriya realized how beat he was. If he was going to win, he had to take Midoriya out now. 

Using the last of his energy, he jumped out of the way of Midoriya’s next punch, using mobility to his advantage. Midoriya swung for him again, but he weaved under, coming back up on his left side and hitting him with a jab, cross, another jab, and a finishing right hook to the side of his face.

Midoriya yelped, stumbling back and slumping down against the ropes, his body heaving with heavy breaths. The timer finished, signaling the end of the match, and the ref walked to Katsuki, holding his hand up in victory.

“THE WINNER IS KATSUKI BAKUGOU! ANOTHER FIGHT TO ADD TO HIS PERFECT RECORD!” Mic’s voice echoed across the stadium. He noticed Aizawa, the tired announcer, walking down to the stage to present him with a medal.

“Good job.” He said curtly. Katsuki ducked his head to let Aizawa put the medal on, nodding at him while he tried to catch his breath. Aizawa walked over to brief with the ref, leaving Katsuki alone in the middle of the ring. Midoriya stood and walked over, holding his gloved hand out for a fist bump. “Good fight, Kacchan.” He said, still obviously out of breath. Katsuki glared at him. “Get lost.” He hissed, moving the ropes so he could climb out of the ring. He brushed past Todoroki, who had tried to say something to him, but he couldn’t say he cared.

He won, but it didn’t feel like it.

He went into the empty changeroom, ripping his gloves off and staring at his shaking arms. One more hit. One more hit and he would have lost.

Was he getting weaker? He had never had to change his fighting style before. It always worked for him. But if he had stuck with his regular fighting style in that match..

He would have lost.

He stared at himself in silence, the sound of the announcers and the crowd in the background slowly fading away as he bore into his own crimson eyes in the mirror. He was worthless if he couldn’t fight. Fighting was his whole world, so how had Midoriya of all people almost bested him? Was he really better than him?

Katsuki Bakugou hated the silence.

Chapter Text

Shouto’s POV:

Today was supposed to be the first night they’d be spending at the cottage. He’d finished packing his things and loading them into the back of his car last night, but he’d agreed to drive a few friends over as well, so he made sure not to take too many things.

He wasn’t too sure how his car would hold up, given that it had been breaking down recently. Keigo had given him a basic lesson on what to do if it happened again, and Touya had gone out and bought him some necessary supplies like jumper cables and taught him how to use them. Or, rather, he tried to teach him, but his brother truthfully didn’t know a lot about cars, and Keigo had to step in and show both of them how it was properly done.

Touya and Keigo were over at his place a lot now that Touya was back from his overseas work. He decided he liked it, and he found Keigo a lot more tolerable when he saw how happy his older brother looked when he was around.

Oh– and Keigo had also made sure to stock Shouto’s car with a super warm hand-knit blanket he’d made in case he broke down in the cold. He’d said it was supposed to be his Christmas gift, since Touya mentioned Shouto’s tendency to get cold in the winter, but he figured he’d give it to him early since he was going on this road trip. Keigo had a really bad habit of treating Shouto like a child, but in moments like these he remembered that it was all in good intent.

He turned his car on, letting it warm up until heat billowed through the vents, warming his chilled fingers and the tip of his nose. It was a chilly fall morning, a sudden drop from the last few weeks of nice, warm weather they’d had. Shouto could only pray that Mina had heat at her cottage.

He double checked his route, pulling out his phone and plugging it into maps again. He and Mina were the ones driving. They lived on opposite sides of the city, so it worked out nicely. He would be picking up Bakugou first, since he lived the closest, then Kirishima, Kaminari, and Jirou, who all lived close to each other as well. Mina would be picking up Midoriya, Uraraka, Momo, and Tsuyu.

That made 10 people, 5 per car. He hoped Kiyoko could handle all the extra weight without breaking down again.

In the worst case scenario, he was pretty sure Kaminari had worked at a garage in his teen years, based on the wear and tear on the band tees and jeans he wore all the time. Either that or he was accident prone. Or both, which, when thinking about it, Shouto realized would be a terrifying combination.

Maybe he should just call Keigo if things got bad. That was probably his best bet.

Checking the time on his phone, he sighed, watching his breath come out in a cold puff of air. It was 6am now, and the cottage was 4 hours away. With restroom and food stops, they’d probably be there by noon, which meant they’d be making good time.

Shifting his car into drive, he pulled out of his driveway, taking the detour to Bakugou’s house this time, not wanting to get stuck in construction the same way he had yesterday morning. When he arrived, he found the blonde already stood outside, a less than pleased expression on his face as he loaded his stuff into the trunk.

“You’re two minutes late.” He complained. Shouto ignored his complaint, glancing down at the crate that he held in his lap when he got into the passenger seat. “Are you bringing your cat?”

“Yeah.” He huffed, giving him a sideways glance, as if daring him to say something about it. “My parents are away on vacation, and Mina already said it was fine. Got a problem?” He challenged, waiting for him to say something in opposition.

“No.” Shouto said, reaching out and resting his finger against the door of the crate. Kiwi purred, trying to rub against his hand through the door. His eyes brightened the slightest, tiniest bit, before he was turning back to the road and shifting his car into drive. “I like cats.”

They didn’t even get down the block before Bakugou was plugging a USB into his car, connecting his phone and hijacking Shouto’s speakers. Shouto looked at him in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m playing some music, dingus, what does it look like?” He bit, opening his Spotify and finding his main playlist. 

“Why?” Shouto asked, honestly confused. He wasn’t trying to be annoying by asking: he was genuinely curious. He didn’t feel the need to listen to music like other people, so Bakugou’s adamance on having something playing all the time threw him off.

“Because I can’t stand the ringing silence in my ears. It’s so annoying.” He growled, hitting shuffle on his playlist and nodding in satisfaction as “If Darkness Had a Son” by Metallica started playing. Shouto only knew that because the screen in his car read it out to him.

“Metallica?” He asked. “I’ve heard of them.”

“You’d have to live under a rock if you haven’t.” Bakugou replied, snappy as ever. Shouto had noticed that the blonde haired male had been more on edge and irritated since his fight yesterday. Shouto had imagined Bakugou would be more relaxed after a fight if anything, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on him. Weird, because Shouto always found he was more relaxed after skating.

Well– not that he could skate anymore, not with his coach refusing to take him back on. He had his father to thank for that.

“Why is this song so long?” Shouto asked, peering at the time. It had been playing for at least five minutes. Bakugou sneered at him. “It’s not that long. Not like you would know, since you’re boring and don’t like music.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it.” He replied, turning into Kirishima’s neighbourhood. He glanced at his GPS to make sure he was on track. “I do like it, I just don’t feel the need to listen to it a lot.”

“Oh yeah? Name one artist you actually like then.” Bakugou challenged smugly, crossing his arms as if he already knew he had him beat.

Shouto side-eyed him, pulling up to Kirishima’s house and unlocking the doors as said red-haired male came to the car. Kaminari, struggling with his suitcase, followed a few steps behind him. “Mitski.”

Bakugou scrunched his nose up, voicing his distaste just as Kirishima got in the car. “ Mitski? ”

Kirishima immediately perked up, tuning into the conversation. “Mitski?”

Shouto made eye contact with him in the rearview mirror. “Yeah. Bakugou wanted to know what kind of music I listened to.”

“No I didn’t, idiot! I don’t care.” He huffed, crossing his arms. “And Mitski is shit.”

“WHAT?” Kaminari gasped, having just climbed into the car. “Did you just say Mitski is shit?”

“Yeah.” The grumpier blonde scoffed, fixing him with a scrutinizing glare. “Got a problem with that?”

“Uh, yeah, actually. That’s criminal!” Kaminari exclaimed, throwing his hands up exaggeratedly. Shouto turned back, looking between the two of them and interrupting their conversation. “I didn’t realize you two would be staying together. I guess I should find a new route to Jirou’s house?”

“Oh yeah, sorry man. I forgot to tell you. We kind of planned it super last minute.” Kirishima said, leaving Bakugou and Kaminari to argue among themselves. He leaned forward over the console.

“Hey, get out of my face, shitty hair!”

“Hold on Bakugou.” Kirishima said without batting an eye, plugging a route into Shouto’s GPS. “There. That’s the fastest route.”

Shouto nodded. “Thank you.”

“No problem man!” He grinned, about to settle back in his seat before he caught sight of the crate in Bakugou’s lap. “Hey, is that Kiwi? Oh man, last time I saw her she was a kitten!”

“Huh? Oh, I’m bringing her with me because my parents are on vacation and there’s no one else to take care of her.” Bakugou explained, elbowing Kaminari in the face when he tried to climb to the front to take a look at her.

Kaminari yelped, bringing a hand up to rub his nose. “What the heck, dude? That was so unnecessary!”

“Shut up and put your seatbelts on!” Bakugou barked, the car already moving by the time he gave the order. Five minutes of heated bickering later, and the four men were outside of Jirou’s house. Kaminari, ever the gentleman, got out of the car to open the door for her. However, as his luck may have it, his shoe caught on the curb, and he fell right at her feet instead.

Jirou gasped, her expression concerned as she dropped her things and kneeled down to cup Kaminari’s face in her hands. “Are you hurt?” She asked, tilting his face side to side to check for injuries.

“No.. ugh, maybe a little.” He groaned, his face flushing at Jirou’s proximity. She extended her hand to him to help him up, but by then he’d already come up with a stupid idea, a cheeky grin on his face. 

“Heh.. I guess you could say I sort of fell for you.”

Jirou blushed, promptly letting go of his hand, causing him to fall back down with an ‘oof!’. Jirou hurriedly put her things in the trunk of the SUV and stepped over Kaminari’s body to get in the backseat.

“Idiots.” Bakugou grumbled.

Shouto could only watch sympathetically as Kaminari peeled himself off the sidewalk, getting back in with a scraped cheek and a busted ego.

“You alright, Kaminari?” He asked. “I have bandaids in my dash if you’d like some.”

“Yeah.” He groaned dejectedly. “Thanks, Todoroki.”

Shouto nodded, gaze drifting over to Bakugou. “Bakugou, can you pop the dash open please?”

“Do it yourself.” He huffed. Shouto observed him for a second before reaching across, only to have his hand swatted away a moment later.

“I didn’t mean literally, I’ll do it damn it! You just drive.” Bakugou snapped, grabbing the bandaids and throwing them to Kaminari. They almost hit him smack in the face, but he managed to catch them just in time. “Hey, thanks Bakugou!”

“Don’t thank me.” He chuffed, annoyance evident in his tone. “I only did it so you would all shut up.”

Everyone pretty much ignored Bakugou in favour of other things. Jirou turned to Kaminari, her expression looking nothing short of guilty. “Here, let me help you.” She offered, taking the bandaid from him.

Kaminari stilled, his breath catching in his throat as Jirou leaned forward, putting her hand on his cheek. She positioned it and then smoothed the sticky edges down with her thumbs. She made sure it was secured before pulling back. “There, all better.”

Kaminari laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and staring down at his shoes. “..Thanks.”

“They couldn’t be any more obvious.” Bakugou grumbled under his breath, idly scrolling through his playlist and putting on a song by Muse. Shouto nodded in agreement, not voicing his thoughts aloud but silently sharing the same sentiment.

He felt a strange emotion coming to the surface. He felt guilty. He was following his father’s orders, going along with this stupid fake marriage arrangement to keep him happy. He had been okay with it at first– well, not exactly okay but.. Indifferent. He didn’t like it, but he also understood it was what he needed to do. He never allowed himself to dwell on it too much.

But now it just felt wrong. These were real people. These were people he could be friends with. People that considered him a friend, too.

Two-toned eyes peered at them in the rearview mirror.

Kaminari and Jirou. They were in love with each other, it was obvious. Kaminari always stared at Jirou in the same way Touya stared at Keigo. He knew that look when he saw it.

His gaze drifted to Kirishima next, who was leaning forward to talk to Bakugou in the front. This arrangement hurt Kirishima too, even if only indirectly. It might not be as obvious as Kaminari and Jirou, but it was there. Shouto was indirectly causing a rift between the three bandmates by going through with his fathers wishes. All three of them were suffering in their own ways.

And Bakugou.. He knew the blonde would never admit it, but it was there. One thing Shouto had noticed about Bakugou is that he was infinitely hard to read, but he did have tells if you cared to look close enough.

He was quiet. Well, not that that was super uncommon. Bakugou seemed to prefer not talking most of the time, and he’d get annoyed when anyone disturbed him. This was.. A different type of quiet.

Bakugou was observant, incredibly so. He always knew what was going on around him, even if he feigned indifference. So when he got that look on his face..

Shouto had seen it a few times, but the most prevalent was after his fight with Midoriya. He had gotten really quiet, his body had looked more tense, and he’d completely shut out everything happening around him. There was also this distant look in his eyes that Shouto couldn’t quite place, but he knew it was nothing good.

His eyes flickered to the blonde, who had settled Kiwi’s crate at his feet and was currently preoccupied with yelling at one of the three in the back. He’d been spacing out more and more often recently. He figured he had other things going on too, but Shouto wasn’t dumb enough to believe that the arrangement wasn’t causing at least some of his inner turmoil as well.

Shouto sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. He felt so guilty. These people didn’t deserve to suffer just because he couldn’t learn how to tell his father no. They didn’t deserve to suffer just because he was a coward. Why couldn’t Enji have taken more interest in Touya when he was younger? Touya was the one who was always more interested in the business, and he would have been a better fit. Touya wouldn’t have had these problems. He wasn’t a coward like Shouto.

He mentally slapped himself the moment he had those thoughts. That was a dangerous way to think, and he knew it was entirely unfair to his brother. He couldn’t pretend that he didn’t know why Touya had left, and he couldn’t spite him for pushing Enji’s attention onto him either. It wasn’t his fault and it had never been his intention to push Shouto into their fathers spotlight.

Touya was braver than Shouto would ever be. He knew how to stand up for himself and those he cared about. He couldn’t even be mad at Touya for leaving all of these responsibilities to him because he had been brave enough to stand his ground. If Shouto could just be more like Touya, then he wouldn’t be stuck in this situation right now, feeling so much guilt and self-loathing.

He only had himself to blame.

“Bakugou, give me the aux–” Kaminari said loudly, leaning over the back of Bakugou’s seat and trying desperately to grab his phone from his hands. Bakugou clutched his phone to his chest, his signature scowl glued to his face. “Get back in your seat, idiot! I’m on aux!”

“But we wanna listen to Mitski!”

“Your music taste is shit, I’m not listening to Mitski for the whole trip.” He growled, putting his hand on Kaminari’s face and attempting to push him back.

“Please, Bakugou? Just for a little bit.” Kirishima pleaded.

“No.” He repeated firmly. “You got a problem with my music or something?”

“No, dude. Your music is fine.” Jirou replied, tucking her earbuds back into her pocket. “I like Muse. But it’s honestly a red flag that you don’t like Mitski. We have to play her music now to purify you.”

“The fuck kind of cult shit is that? Stay away from me.” He warned. “I’m not listening to your shitty sad music.”

“Cult?” Shouto asked, concerned. “Jirou, are you in a cult?”

Bakugou gave Shouto a look that made him feel stupid. “No, idiot. It’s a figure of speech.”

Shouto still felt confused, but he let it pass. “..Right.”

Kaminari, using Bakugou’s momentary distraction to his advantage, grabbed the aux cord, plugging it into his own phone.

“Nice one!” Jirou grinned. The trio in the backseat shared a group high five. Bakugou, sensing a disturbance in the force, immediately stopped complaining to Shouto about his ‘disturbing lack of social skills’, and turned to the backseat to fix the three with a terrifying glare.

“What. Did. You. Do.”

Not even a moment later, Mitski’s voice started playing through the speakers. Shouto swore he almost saw a blood vessel pop in Bakugou’s forehead.

“DUNCE FACE!” He yelled, unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing over the center console to strangle Kaminari. Kaminari yelped “Wait– no! No, I'm sorry!”

“Woah– Bakugou stop!” Kirishima tried to intervene. Shouto just stared at them in shock.

“Bakugou, sit back down–” He tried to reach for him, but he paused mid grab, his eyes catching on the red and blue flashing lights in his side mirror. “Fuck.”

Everyone stopped and looked at Shouto when they heard him swear, since he wasn’t usually one for profanity. Bakugou was the second one to realize they were being pulled over, and he grumbled under his breath, settling back into his seat.

“..Sorry, Todoroki.” Kirishima said guiltily. Shouto pulled the car over onto the shoulder, and the cop stopped behind him as well. “It’s not your fault, Kirishima.” He dismissed, fixing Bakugou and Kaminari with a chilling glare. Kaminari shivered and squeaked a small ‘sorry!’ under his glare, and Bakugou just glared back, his arms crossed and a pout on his face like a bratty child.

Shouto rolled down his window as the cop walked up. “Officer.” He greeted. The officer just nodded in response, obviously not in a good mood.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?” He asked.

“Shouldn’t you know that?” Obviously, Shouto had never been pulled over before. Bakugou face-palmed behind him, and Shouto just shot a glare back at him. Like Bakugou the right to be criticizing him right now when he was the reason they’d been pulled over in the first place.

The cop was obviously irked by his attitude, and put his hand out. “License and registration please. You are aware your passengers need to be buckled up when you’re driving, right?”

Shouto fished his documents out of his dash, handing them to the officer. “Yes, sir. I apologize for my idiot friends.”

Bakugou looked like he was going to argue, but Kirishima quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, shutting him up. He let out a muffled grunt, trying to pry Kirishima’s hands off him.

Obviously, the cop thought this was suspicious behaviour, because he leaned closer, peering into the car. “..Is everyone alright in here?”

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Kirishima assured, Jirou nodding in agreement. Kaminari was a little pouty, his hair a mess from fighting with Bakugou, but he agreed too.

“..And what about that one?” The officer pointed to Bakugou, whose mouth was being held shut by Kirishima. “Are you in danger, young man?”

Bakugou almost seemed offended by the question, and broke free from Kirishima’s grip. “Hell no! Do I look like a victim to you–”

“He’s fine, officer. He’s just off his medication.” Shouto said, lowering his voice towards the end. “We’re on our way to get him some more right now.”

“WHAT?! I DON’T HAVE ANY DAMN MENTAL ISSUES–” Bakugou hollered, but Shouto started talking over him again. “Sorry about him. He gets really angry when he’s not taking them. We’ve tried other methods but the doctors don’t know what’s wrong with him, so this is the only thing that works right now.”

“Oh.” The officer said, his expression softening into something sympathetic. “I get it. My son has mental issues too, I know how tough it can get. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, sir. Just try to keep him in his seat. Have a nice day, and good luck with your friend.” He handed all of Shouto’s documents back, and he nodded politely back to the officer. “Thank you, sir, you as well.”

The second Shouto had rolled the window back up, chaos ensued. Kaminari and Jirou were laughing hysterically in the back, practically in tears, Kirishima was trying to hold back his laughter (and failing), and Bakugou looked pissed, but that was nothing new.

“I don’t have any mental issues! The hell is wrong with you, candy cane?” He barked, fixing him with a glare that he probably thought was intimidating but really looked more embarrassed than anything.

Shouto shrugged indifferently. “Huh, really? I thought you did. Sorry.”

Of course, Shouto had never thought Bakugou had any mental impediments, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find pissing him off to be humorous.

“Are you dumb?” The blonde scowled. Shouto ignored him. “Bakugou, would you buckle your seatbelt so we can get going again? I’d like to be there on time if possible.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” He growled. Shouto quirked a brow. “Do it, now. You’re the reason we got pulled over. And since neither of you can agree to share the aux like mature adults, nobody gets it.”

“What? Dude.” Kaminari complained. “But I worked so hard for this.”

But Shouto was done with their shit at this point. “Kaminari. I will leave you on the side of the highway if you don’t give me back the aux. I also have duct tape in the back and I will not hesitate to restrain both of you if you decide to fight again.” He threatened. Bakugou begrudgingly buckled his seatbelt, and Kaminari sighed heavily, but ultimately gave Shouto the aux cord back. He tucked it into his driver’s side door where nobody could reach it.

“Are you children done fighting, then?” Shouto asked, his tone flat and tinged with annoyance. “Yes? Good.”

He shifted into drive again, resuming the trip to the cottage in absence of any music. Bakugou seemed irritated the whole time, that distant look returning to his face, and Shouto almost felt guilty for a moment before remembering that he was the reason they got pulled over. Then he didn’t feel so bad anymore.

The car was mostly quiet aside from the casual conversation. Kaminari was overwhelmingly bored, he could tell, from the bouncing of his knee in the backseat. Jirou had her earbuds plugged into her phone, and looked to be playing a mobile game of some kind. Kirishima attempted to make conversation with Bakugou, who grumbled the occasional response but was mostly quiet, his cheek resting in the palm of his hand.

About two hours in, Shouto figured it would be a good time to mention stopping for food and restroom breaks.

“Does anyone have anywhere they’d prefer to go?” He asked, taking the exit ramp to a small town along their route.

“Can we get Taco Bell?” Kaminari asked excitedly, his whole mood shifting in an instant. “I love Jamaican food!”

Jirou turned to stare at Kaminari with a judgemental look. “What? Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

“Kaminari, Taco Bell is Mexican. ”

“What? Sero told me they were the same thing.” He defended. “Isn’t he literally half Mexican? He would know!”

Jirou snorted, muffling a laugh behind her hand. “You actually believed him? Kaminari, remember the time Sero told you to get him blinker fluid from Princess Auto and all of the employees laughed at you? I hate to say this to you, but that man is praying on your downfall.”

“What?! Kirishima– you were there, remember? When he told me Mexican and Jamaican were the same thing. You remember too, right?” Kaminari asked, still refusing to believe his dark-haired friend had deceived him.

“Ah.. yeah, sorry man. I thought you knew he was joking.” Kirishima chuckled, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

“What?!” Kaminari pouted, slumping down into the seat. “How long has Sero been lying to me for?”

“A long time, buddy.” Kirishima said gently, trying to break the news in a way that wouldn’t crush his soul. “A really long time.”

“It’s okay, Kaminari. Anyone could have fallen for it.” Jirou reassured, rubbing his arm. He didn’t seem convinced. “How do I know you’re not lying to me too?” He whined, his brows furrowed in betrayal. “I’m just stupid. ”

Jirou smiled sympathetically. “You’re not stupid, Kaminari. Trust me. I wouldn’t lie to you about this.” She reached for Kaminari’s hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“You mean it?” He asked wearily, watching her out of the corner of his eye as if he were nervous to actually make eye contact with her.

“I do.” She said, brushing a strand of loose hair back out of his eyes.

Shouto looked straight ahead, avoiding looking at them. There was that feeling again. The crushing guilt dragging him down into the depths with it. How far would he allow this to go? He had the ability to stop, to put an end to this. He had the ability to protect his friends and yet he wouldn’t . He was too afraid to actually change anything. He was making his friends suffer, all because he couldn’t get over his own stupid fears.

He bit his lip, pulling into Taco Bell without another word. “Ok, we’re here.”

“Yo! Thanks Todoroki.” Kirishima grinned, getting out of the car. Kaminari and Jirou followed shortly after. Shouto started to unbuckle his seatbelt to follow, but he paused when he noticed Bakugou’s lack of movement.

“Hey, Bakugou?” He asked, frowning when he didn’t get an answer. “Bakugou? Are you feeling alright?”

He leaned over to get a look at his face pressed against the door, brows furrowed in concern. He froze, however, at the sight that awaited him.

He was asleep..?

Bakugou was curled up in the corner against the door of the car, his seat reclined back a few inches further than Shouto remembered it being before. One hand was propped under his cheek, using it as a makeshift pillow. His face was relaxed, and he looked more peaceful than Shouto had ever seen him before. He looked.. Different.

Shouto was going to be sick. Oh god, why was he sick? He clasped a hand over his mouth, clambering out of the car so he wouldn’t throw up all over his seats. After a moment, the feeling passed.

“Hey, are you guys coming– woah, are you feeling alright?” Jirou drew his attention to her, and he looked up, straightening himself back up. “Um.. yeah. I just felt sick for a second but it passed.” He admitted. “I think it may just be motion sickness.”

“Oh. Are you sure you’re alright?” She asked again, concern obvious in her tone.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Bakugou is asleep, though, so I’ll buy him something. Do you know what he likes?”

Jirou shook her head. “No, but Kirishima will. Come on.”

“Alright.” Shouto agreed, following her into the restaurant.

After getting their food, they came back to the car to find Bakugou still asleep. Shouto made sure everyone was buckled in, fed and watered Kiwi, then started his drive back down the highway. The three in the back mainly conversed among themselves, occasionally including Shouto.

Towards the end of hour three, Bakugou stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He looked around, taking in his surroundings and trying to figure out where he was. He looked at Shouto, then at his GPS.

“Did you idiots stop for food yet?” He grumbled, his voice deeper with the influence of sleep.

Shouto chose to ignore his blatant insult, and glanced at him from his peripheral vision. “Yeah.” He paused, letting his answer hang in the air for a moment. “I bought you some food. I didn’t know what you liked, so I asked Kirishima. Here–” Shouto reached to grab the bag from the back, handing it to him. When he handed the bag off, he met Bakugou’s eyes. He looked almost a little uncomfortable, but then scoffed, breaking eye contact.

“I’ll pay you back..” He grumbled, unwrapping his food. 

“That won’t be necessary.” Shouto offered. “I really don’t mind.”

Bakugou paused mid chew, going quiet for a second before replying. “..Okay. Thanks, or whatever. I guess.” He grumbled, turning away from him.

Shouto looked over at him in surprise. Did Bakugou.. Actually just thank him?

Bakugou seemed to feel Shouto’s stare on him, and his head snapped back up to glare at him. “Stop staring, idiot! This doesn’t mean I owe you anything.” He scoffed.

Shouto looked away again, refocusing on the road. “No, of course not. I just spaced out.”

“Well don’t do it again! You’re supposed to be driving, not getting distracted. You’ll screw up and get us all killed!” Bakugou complained. Kiwi, awakened by her cat nap by Bakugou’s yelling, meowed loudly as if telling him to shut up. All of Bakugou’s attention immediately switched to her, and he grumbled one last complaint to Shouto before quieting down again, sticking his fingers through the holes in the crate to scratch the top of her head.

“Awh, is she awake? Can I pet her?” Kirishima asked, leaning forward into the center console. Whatever momentary reprieve they had from Bakugou’s wrath was broken the moment Kirishima spoke to him. “No, shitty hair! Get your own cat.”

“Awh, Bakugou, please?” He pleaded. Bakugou was going to yell at him again, but Shouto stopped the car, parking it outside of Mina’s cabin a few minutes ahead of schedule, and before even Mina’s crew had arrived.

“Okay, we’re here.”

Chapter Text

Shoto’s POV:

A few minutes after the first group had arrived, Mina’s group pulled up next, parking her hot pink jeep next to Shoto’s red Hyundai.

“Hey! Hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long!” She beamed, getting out of the car and popping her trunk open so everyone could grab their things.

“You’re late.” Bakugo said dryly.

“It’s not a problem. We’re all just glad you’re here safe.” Shoto reassured, popping his own trunk open.

Midoriya, Uraraka, and Momo got out of the backseat, and Sero out of the passenger’s seat. Upon seeing Sero, though, Kaminari’s eyes lit up. “Hey, Sero, my dude! You won’t believe what happened on the way here!”

Sero grinned when he saw Kaminari, his favourite victim. “Hey man! How have you been? It’s been a minute.”

They met in the middle, giving each other what might have been the most satisfying dap up in recorded history. “Good, but dude, we got chased by the cops on the way here!”

“No we did not.” Jirou scoffed, grabbing her luggage out of the back of Shoto’s car. “Stop exaggerating, Kaminari.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re no fun.” He huffed childishly. Shoto tuned him and Sero out as they continued to talk, Kirishima and Mina joining them shortly after. Bakugo was halfway through grabbing his things when he saw Midoriya. Of course, the blonde already knew Midoriya would be here before coming. Shuto had told him a couple days prior, but Bakugo still didn’t seem pleased, his eyes glaring daggers into the poor green haired man.

Shoto was somewhat caught between them when this happened, so he slowly stepped out of their line of sight, feeling like he was interrupting something. He moved behind Bakugo to grab his own things, and then rolled his suitcase over to Mina.

“Ashido, where are we staying?” He inquired.

“Oh, right! I have to show everyone around. Come on!” She gestured for everyone to follow. Shoto noticed that Bakugo and Midoriya hung back a bit, but he didn’t comment on it or give it any second thoughts. He figured they were probably talking about the fight or something like that.

Walking into the cottage, the smell of pine and faint sage filled his senses. Mina kicked her shoes off at the door, setting her stuff down by the couches in the middle of the living room.

The floor was a deep brown hardwood, contrasting nicely with the vanilla coloured furniture. There was a large window at the side of the room, looking out towards the sandy private beach. Plants, both fake and real, were littered around the room, vines strung up around windows and potted perennials in the windowsills.

The whole cottage had a cozy vibe. Even the stone fireplace in front of the couches was aesthetically pleasing, with photographs and small decorations sitting on the ledge above it.

“Okay, so the girls and the guys are going to be staying on separate sides of the house. There’s two rooms on each side of the house so you guys are gonna have to figure that out.” Mina said, pointing to the set of stairs on the right side of the entrance. “You guys are on that side.”

“Great, thanks Ashido.” Shoto thanked her, his hair swishing to the side as Kaminari raced past him, dragging Sero with him. “Dibs on Sero and Kirishima! Come on roomies!” He grinned, bounding up the stairs with Sero in tow and gesturing for Kirishima to follow them.

Shoto shrugged, unbothered by the arrangement. That meant he would be with Midoriya and Bakugo. Shoto liked Midoriya, and Bakugo minded his own business most of the time.

Those two were still outside, so it gave him some time to head up and unpack his things before they got there. Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima were making a ruckus in the room closest to the stairs, so he took the one further to the back. Walking in, he took in the place he’d be staying in for the next few weeks. There was a singular window overlooking the forest to the right of the cottage, and he suddenly understood why the girls chose the left side. They probably had a really nice view of the beach. 

Shoto didn’t mind, though. He didn’t get to see the woods often living in the city and with little time on his hands, so this was a nice change for him.

Midoriya came in shortly after. “Hey, Todoroki. I guess we’re roommates?” He asked. Shoto nodded. “Yes, Kaminari, Kirishima, and Sero are in the next room over. I meant to greet Sero earlier, but he was busy with Kaminari so I suppose it can wait until later.”

“Oh yeah, you and Sero are pretty good friends, right?” Midoriya asked curiously. Shoto nodded. “Yes. We went to high school together and we’ve modeled together before.” He explained, purposely leaving out that they had done figure skating together. He didn’t feel like digging up any bittersweet memories on this trip.

“Cool! I didn’t know Sero did modeling, actually.” Midoriya said, unpacking his things and setting up on the bed on the left side of the room. There was a bunk bed on the right, and Midoriya paused. “Oh– I guess I should probably take the bunk bed, huh? Kacchan won’t be happy if he has to share. Would you mind sharing with me, Todoroki?”

“Sure. I can take the bottom.” He offered. It would feel weird sleeping in a bunk bed. He had never had a bunk bed before, even as a kid. He remembered Fuyumi and Natsuo begging for one for the longest time when they were little, but he couldn’t understand the appeal of sharing your personal space with someone else.

“Oh HELL NO! I am not sharing a room with you idiots!” Bakugo protested, dropping his things at the door (minus Kiwi’s crate, of course). Midoriya turned to look at him first. “Kacchan, it’s fine, we’ll take the bunk bed. You can have the king.” He gestured to the bed on the left, and Bakugo scowled.

“Hell no. It’s too close to you idiots.”

“Bakugo, it’s really not that big of a deal.” Shoto insisted. “And the other three are already sharing a room.”

“Bullshit, I’m swapping with Sero.” He scowled, stomping back down the hallway. Shoto and Midoriya shared a glance as his voice echoed down the hallway.

“Hey, Tacos, we’re switching rooms!” He demanded, dropping his stuff on the floor where Sero was setting up. “What– hey!” He yelped as Bakugo dragged him out into the hallway, tossing his stuff out with him.

“Yo, Bakugo! Not cool man!” Kirishima scolded, but Bakugo just glared at him. “Shut up, shitty hair. I’m not staying with those losers.”

“Dude.” Kaminari whined, “You stole my bro.” 

“Don’t care.” He grunted.

Midoriya laughed nervously as Sero came into the room, his hair looking disheveled from his scuffle with Bakugo. “Um.. sorry about him, Sero, he’s a little.. Eccentric.”

“Hi, Sero.” Shoto greeted, internally happy that he would be sharing a room with his two best friends.

“Was that Bakugo?” Sero asked, never having met the explosive blonde before. “He sure knows how to leave an impression.”

“Is everything alright up there?” Momo called up the stairs, probably concerned about all the noise.

“Yup, all good.” Kirishima confirmed. “Just sorting out sleeping arrangements.”

“..Alright.” Momo said, her voice still sounding wary.

“Midoriya and I are sharing the bunk if you want the king, Sero.” Shoto informed, and Sero nodded enthusiastically. “Great, thanks guys.”

Sero started setting his bed up, and during that time, Shoto finished setting up his own. All of his sheets were typically plain white, but he’d packed the blanket Keigo had made for him instead of his usual one.

Once he was done, Mina called everyone down to the living room to do a quick tour of the place and discuss their plans for tomorrow. They would rotate breakfast between all ten of them. Shoto was first, and he’d be cooking breakfast tomorrow. He felt a spike of anxiety. He didn’t know how to cook. The only time he’d ever cooked was when Fuyumi attempted to show him how to make pasta. She’d been coaching him through it, but ended up taking over when she discovered Shoto had somehow burnt the water. He looked at her sheepishly, and she just told him not to worry about it and did the rest herself. He felt pretty useless when it came to cooking.

But.. he was sure it couldn’t be that hard, right? He could figure it out. Just because he messed up one time didn’t mean he was a total failure.

So he didn’t say anything. He’d figure it out.

Once Mina finished delegating tasks, they had an entire afternoon to do as they pleased. Midoriya and Kaminari sat downstairs and chatted with the girls in the living room, and Bakugo and Kirishima retreated to their room upstairs. Shoto assumed they’d use that time to catch up, or, in the most likely case, Bakugo would probably take a nap.

Shoto was going to retreat to his room as well to read. Touya had given him some of his old novels since Shoto mentioned he was looking for something new to read, but he hadn’t had a chance to get to them yet. Sero caught him before he could leave though, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked over his shoulder at him, curiosity in his two-toned eyes.

“Hi, Sero. Do you need something?” He asked politely.

Sero nodded. “I was just wondering if you’d like to take a walk around with me. Ashido mentioned some really nice hiking trails around the cottage, and I figured it’d be nice to properly catch up.”

Shoto thought about declining for a minute. He just spent the last few hours driving and he’d really like some peace and quiet. At the same time though.. It had been a long time since he and Sero had seen each other, let alone actually hung out. He realized he’d been staring at Sero in silence for a few seconds too long, so he nodded in response. “Sure. I could use a walk.”

“Great!” Sero said, smiling brightly at him. The two of them walked to the door together, pulling on their shoes, and Shoto his sweater.

“You really think you need that?” Sero asked, reaching out and picking a singular cat hair off of his sweater. “I know it’s fall and all, but it’s still kind of warm.”

“I get cold easily.” Shoto explained, pocketing his phone in his jeans. Sero shrugged and left it at that, stepping outside with Shoto following close behind him. They walked toward the beach together, where the first trail apparently began. That was what Mina had told Sero, anyway. It took some searching, but they finally found it hidden in the shade of the large oaks. Shoto went in first, wading through the thick green overgrowth. Clearly, nobody used these trails very often.

“Are you sure this is the right trail?” Shoto asked, casting a wary glance toward Sero. “Yeah, I think so anyway. Ashido said there should only be one entrance by the beach and it splits into three separate trails after that.”

“..Okay.” Shoto said, though still unsurely. Sero seemed to know what he was doing, though, so he figured he’d just let him lead from behind. “I’ll trust your judgement, then.”

Shoto couldn’t see it, but Sero smiled behind him. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this, ‘roki.”

Eventually, the trail widened so the two of them were able to walk side by side, Sero falling perfectly into stride with Shoto. Shoto was quiet most of the time, while Sero did most of the talking.

“Hey man, so.. Why’d you quit figure skating?” Sero finally asked. Shoto’s footsteps faltered for a beat. Of course Sero would have asked at some point. They had skated together for so long, and for Shoto to quit so suddenly when he so obviously enjoyed it would surely raise some red flags for Sero.

Sero was one of his closest friends, right? He should tell him the truth.

“..It’s a long story.” He mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and lacing his fingers together.

“I have time.” Sero reassured him, gesturing to the forest around them. “I mean, come on. We’re in the middle of the woods, we have nowhere else to be. I have all the time in the world right now.”

Shoto hesitated, opening his mouth to talk, but then promptly shutting it. He didn’t want to explain. He knew if he told Sero then he would start to pity him, and that was the last thing he wanted. He didn’t want to feel more weak and pathetic than he already did.

So instead of telling him what really happened, he lied. “I just got bored.”

“What? But you used to love skating! You were so good at it too. Is this about your dad? Did he say something?” Sero pressed.

“ Don’t talk about him.” Shoto snapped. He didn’t even realize he’d gotten angry until he saw the look on Sero’s face when he reeled back, looking at him like he’d been kicked. Shoto felt his heart twist with guilt, and he immediately took on a softer tone. “Sorry.”

“..Hey, it’s all good. I shouldn’t have pushed so much.” Sero responded, shouldering the blame so Shoto wouldn’t have to carry it.

Despite Sero’s reassurance, Shoto still felt a little guilty. He really should work on managing his emotions better.

“..On another note, how are your siblings? Is Touya back from overseas yet?” Sero asked, shifting the conversation to a lighter note. Shoto accepted the shift. Anything to take his mind off of the guilt he felt for snapping at Sero.

“Yeah, actually, Touya came back about two months ago. He’s back in his old apartment. Fuyumi still lives with our father, I’m not sure if she’s ever planning to move out. Natsuo finished college a few months ago too, and he moved in with his girlfriend.” Or, at least, that was what Fuyumi had told him. Natsuo and him didn’t really talk much anymore. Shoto got the feeling that Natsuo didn’t really like him much anyway. He asked Touya about it a few years ago since he and Natsuo used to be really close, but Touya refused to tell him. Natsuo and Touya started to talk less after that, and Shoto always felt like it was somehow his fault. He did have a tendency of ruining most things, after all, especially when it came to his own family.

For the rest of their hike, they fell back into a routine of Sero talking while Shoto was lost in thought, occasionally nodding along or humming in acknowledgement. By the time they got back to the cabin, the sun was already starting to set. They came back to find the house quiet. Ashido and Uraraka were the only ones still up, sitting by the fireplace and discussing something in hushed voices. Uraraka seemed flustered, cheeks tinted pink as she tried to hide herself behind a pillow.

Shoto went ahead up to his room, and Sero hung back to join in on whatever Ashido and Uraraka were talking about. Midoriya was already asleep, curled up in his blankets with his knees tucked below him and his arm splayed out on the empty half of the bed like he was searching for a presence that wasn’t there. Since Sero was downstairs, Shoto had some privacy to change into his PJ’s before he came back up. He went to the bathroom across the hall to finish his night routine, and then went back to his bed, falling asleep almost instantly.