𝓢𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓼
"𝐼𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓎, 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒯𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎, 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓂 𝓈𝑜 𝒷𝓁𝓊𝑒? 𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝓈𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹? 𝑀𝒶𝓎𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹."
Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x female reader
Warnings: slightly OOC!Shouto, DONT READ IF YOU DONT LIKE CHUBBY OR SHY READER 👹👹👹 (that’s the premise of the fic but ok), mentions of bullying, mentions unhealthy beauty standards, user has a quirk good enough to get her into the hero course at U.A. :), angst with a happy ending, inspired by "Sports" by Beach Bunny
Word Count: 2,393
A/N: Ouch, this one hurt :,) ; if you don't want female reader then use your imagination; I DO NOT CONDONE BULLYING OR BODY SHAMING, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY YOU ARE♡
Junior high girls are mean, especially the rich kind at your school.
You’ll walk through the halls, just trying to get to class, and they’ll all greet you with their bitter honey voices and long, skinny legs. They’ll walk next to you, asking about your morning while flaunting their long, skinny legs through rolled up skirts. They won’t stop even when you reach class, and only when the teacher walks in and yells at them to get to their seats and roll down those skirts will they disperse and leave you alone.
It was a vicious cycle, the only relief being the quiet of your home—your new home.
It had been a week since you officially moved into your new neighborhood in Kawagoe City. Your father’s new position at his architectural firm had uprooted the family to the bustling city, meaning a new life for you. There wasn’t anything particularly special about the house that your family had moved into. It was located in a safe neighborhood, a ten minute walk from school, and was big enough.
The most interesting aspect of your house was, ironically the neighboring house: a grand, obviously expensive, traditional Japanese home. With two stories and marbled walls, whomever lived there obviously had a salary thrice your father’s. You found out that part was true on your second day of school, when, as you left your house, a boy your age walked out of that house, wearing the boys’ uniform for your school. His red and white hair made it obvious as to who he was: Shouto Todoroki.
Everyone knew about the mysterious son of Endeavor. The girls at your school loved to talk about him too. They loved to talk about his aloof personality, his ice-prince aura, his fascinating height, his clear skin, his flawless grades, his overwhelming strength, his father’s money. But most of all, their favorite topic to talk about was his scar. The blatant, angry red-almost maroon scar, “staining his face” as they loved to put it.
You didn’t see anything wrong with the scar, nor did you agree that it ruined his face. But you never said it out loud, a girl shy and incongruous with the others. You just kept your mouth shut, keeping to yourself and only yourself unless spoken to (but even then, keeping social interaction to a minimum).
Shouto Todoroki isn’t mean, even though he looks like he is.
It happened all by coincidence, after all, both you and him weren’t the social type. It was a stupid paper bag that ripped on your way home from your impromptu trip to the grocery store. As the flimsy material ripped in half, its contents tumbled out.
You gasped and scrambled to pick up the spilt cans of various meats and mixed vegetables, immediately dropping to your knees and gathering what you could. As you do so, your navy blue hoodie bunches up at the sides, your fingers fumbling to hold everything against your chest.
And just as you’re about to reach for the last few cans of tuna, a pair of large, calloused hands reach out and pick them up from the ground. You glance up in surprise, but then your breath hitches in your throat.
Shouto Todoroki is crouched in front of you, silently stacking the cans of tuna and wearing what seems to be his gym clothes. He’s perfectly pristine and poised, like always, except for the small cuts along his forearm. Were those from training? Blood rushes to your cheeks, and you don’t know whether it’s from embarrassment or admiration.
“Y-you don’t have to-! U-uhm-! You know…” You silently curse at yourself for stammering, only choppy phrases able to escape your mouth. The taller boy shakes his head and stands up. “It’s alright, I’m sorry for startling you.” The Shouto Todoroki is right in front of you, the strongest in your year, probably salutatorian, and practically untouchable—yet helping someone like you pick up dropped cans of tuna.
“Thank you,” you whisper, trying not to draw attention to yourself. He watches you stand up, but his gaze doesn’t focus on the obvious weight around your midsection. His eyes don’t burn into it like everyone else your age and at school, as if you don’t belong here. Instead, he even takes some of the vegetables in your hands and looks at you in the eyes.
“You live next door to me, right? Let me walk you home.” Your eyes widen, clearly not expecting such a kind gesture from anyone, especially from him. “Y-Yes, but it’s okay, you don’t have to if you’re going somewhere else. I mean, if you’re busy—” Before you can continue, the heterochromatic boy shakes his head. “I insist, and I’ll be heading home anyways.” You blink again, waiting quietly for him to say that he’s changed his mind or that he was messing with you. But when he doesn’t respond and just waits patiently with you, you sigh and murmur quietly.
“…Okay.”
And so, he walks with you. His eyes fixated on the sidewalk in front of you two, his silence mirrors your own. Once the two of you reach your house, you take the groceries from him. Right before he leaves, you dig through your small purse and pull out three small bandages. You always carry extra, just in case your clumsy mistakes lead to injury. Without a word, you hold them up to him and bow your head.
“Thank you, Todoroki-san.”
And Shouto takes it, firmly, like it means something.
“Thank you.”
And so, it began. Your shared practice of walking to school together, in the rain, in the snow, in the summer heat, and back home. It didn’t matter that you two were in different homerooms. Whomever got to the school gates first waited for the other to walk home together. Only on days when he had training immediately after school did you walk home alone, and it gradually increased as the school year progressed.
You never asked about his scar and stared at it shamelessly, and Shouto never made you feel like you were worth less because your body wasn’t skinny and lanky like the other girls in your school. You gave him bandages when he came home all bruised from training, and he shared his umbrella with you in the rain. You were both outsiders in the same world, not knowing where to belong but in the comfort of each other.
Good things never last, that was a lesson you learned in your childhood, and it seemed as if life wanted to teach you it again.
It was just going to be a mini vacation with your family to a popular camping spot in Chiba. You were only going to be gone for two day.
And when you came back, he was gone.
The Todoroki residence had a sign in front of it that preached “FOR SALE,” and seeing it made your heart break. You had gotten attached to your only friend, just to find out that he had moved without a word. When you went back to school, you learned that was that it was official: the Todorokis had moved out of town. And, according to every heartbroken girl at school, because his father wanted him to go to a different private school to prep for his high school path.
The universe had taken the one person who understood you, and it destroyed you.
.
.
.
You weren’t thinking about it when it happened. You were just walking through the halls of U.A., your first day of high school, looking for your homeroom with your new, self-proclaimed best friend. Setsuna Tokage keeps her arm looped around yours, her extrovert energy almost overloading you.
But it was okay, because Setsuna Tokage didn’t judge you for how your body looked and didn’t care if you were naturally shy. She saw you head towards the hero course classrooms and declared you her favorite person and hadn’t let go of your arm since.
You were smiling at something pleasant she had said, how you and her were going to make so many friends in Class 1B and have the best year ever, when you rounded the corner—
and bumped into him.
Not just anyone, not just a student.
Shouto Todoroki.
The same two-toned hair. The same scar, the same sharp gaze—only taller now, more composed. He looked so much like the boy you used to know, but different in ways that made your chest ache.
Your breath hitched. The world seemed to stop, and you held your breath.
But Shouto? Shouto didn’t react, not at first. As you were about to apologize, to ask how he was doing, he simply nodded and muttered an apology before walking away.
Was it how you looked? Though you never became the skinny supermodel that your former junior high classmates flaunted, you had lost a significant amount of weight. Was it your height? You definitely grew a few inches since you last saw him. Questions raced through your mind as you saw him walk away and silently enter the door to Class 1A.
Maybe you were too foolish to think that he would bother to remember you, let alone even think that he was as attached to you as you were to him. You forced yourself to keep walking, your new friend inspecting your arms to see if you were okay or hurt in any way. You masked the sorrow on your face with a smile, desperate not to cry, not on your first day at your prestigious high school in front of your new best friend.
And in that moment, he was gone again.
By the time that the sun had dipped low over U.A., casting golden streaks across the clean courtyard, you finally had a moment to yourself.
No extroverted friends who had “adopted” you clinging to your arm (who knew that extroverts Kendo and Pony would “adopt” you too!?!), no more boisterous male laughter, and no more overly cheerful teachers. Just you, your aching legs, and your small tote bag seated on a bench underneath a cherry tree. Sitting on the bench, you sigh and let the introvert in you heal.
You were so tired, unbelievably tired, yet the process of becoming tired was so fun. The girls in your class were so sweet and made the best jokes. You weren’t last like usual in the physical examination in hero training, in fact, you weren’t half bad. Setsuna pushing you into the seat between her and Kinoko during lunch was perhaps one of the best parts of your day.
Though it wasn’t perfect, your first day of high school was better than you had expected. People were honestly kind and welcoming. They looked past physical looks and treated people like people.
Having collected your thoughts and ready to go home, you stand up and start heading towards the school gate. You weren’t going to let Shouto’s failure to remember you ruin your entire evening (even though it hurt like hell).
But right before you even step onto the main sidewalk, fast footsteps pound against the concrete. Your name is called out, almost in desperation, and it floats in the air.
You turn around.
And there he was.
Todoroki Shouto, standing in front of you, chest rising and falling like he had just run halfway across campus. His eyes—so different from the cold detachment you had seen earlier—were wide now, searching, knowing.
“It’s you,” he says breathlessly, almost in disbelief. You could feel the raw emotion and vulnerability in his voice, and you had to blink back tears. “L/N…”
You swallow dryly and nod. “It’s me.”
For a moment, both of you just stared at each other, not knowing what to do. Silence stretched between you two, thick with everything left unsaid. Two years is indeed a long time.
Finally, he exhaled. “I didn’t want to leave.”
Your breath hitched, caught in your throat.
“I tried to convince my father to let me stay for another day, to at least say goodbye to you. But…” He didn’t need to finish his sentence, because the story’s missing pieces were filled in.
He wanted to say goodbye.
You felt your chest tighten like it did all those years ago when you realized the burning feeling in your heart. Still not speaking, the taller boy took it as his sign to continue.
“You… you changed,” he murmured quietly. You weren’t sure if he meant the way you looked or something deeper. Confused, you gave him the same truthful yet ambiguous answer.
“So did you,” you whispered back.
After pausing for what seemed like hours, Shouto drops his bag and hugs you. It was light, as if he was afraid that you would shatter, yet warm and too tempting to slip out of.
And when you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around him, his grip tightened, and the walls that you had built up in those two years had crumbled. Without warning at all, you sobbed into his embrace, releasing bottled up sadness and grief. Shouto remained quiet, his right hand gently stroking your hair to soothe you. He didn’t judge your tears, your crying face. Like how he always did, he stood there for you, a silent support that you appreciated greatly.
When you finally pulled back after shedding the last of your tears, his thumb gently rubbed against your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you right away,” he said. “I saw you when we bumped into each other, but I didn’t let myself hope. You looked so confident and strong and…” You interrupt him with a weak laugh. “I’m still me, Todoroki-san.” His chapped lips quirk up into a small smile. “I’m glad.”
A pause, and then…
“Can… can we start over?”
His question caught you off guard, but it provided you with a happiness that rivaled the joy that your new friends from Class 1B gave you.
“I’d like that,” you nodded.
And so, Shouto picked up his bag and escorted you to the station. The walk reminded you of your old routine, the station included because of the far proximity between U.A. and your home. Neither of you spoke, comfortable in the familiar silence reminiscent of the one during your junior high routine.
The new part of this new routine? Todoroki’s hand holding yours.
