Chapter 5

Momo walked alongside Shouto, her breath catching each time his fingers shifted against hers. It was an impulse that had her reach for his hand while they'd been briefly alone. She'd wanted more than just words between them at that moment.

The thrill of his touch hadn't lessened in the time since they'd left that room and carried on through the museum. Momo had been battling a swarm of butterflies in her stomach since she discovered who Shouto really was. The warmth of his hand, the scent of his cologne, only intensified the swarm.

They had continued deeper into the museum, continually trying to find moments where they could simply be alone. Momo thought Shouto had relaxed since she'd taken his hand. She wouldn't have called him tense before. He'd been smiling and arguing his views. But there was something different in him now.

As they paused before one of the many paintings, Momo cast a glance at Shouto's face. His attention appeared to be on the work of art, his mouth twisting into a thoughtful frown as he regarded the painting.

Her focus shifted, narrowing in on the discolouration of the scar tissue around his left eye, and, "How, how did it happen?" just slipped out. Momo's free hand shot up to her mouth, as if covering her lips could take back such a rude question.

Shouto looked down at her then, and his lips ghosted into a sad-looking smile. "Are you sure you want to know?" he asked, ushering her away from the art and out into a hallway.

"Only if you're comfortable telling me," Momo said sincerely, the rush of warmth to her cheeks at her impertinent question slowly abating.

"I have a very tragic backstory," Shouto began, leading her in behind an open staircase to the second floor. He drew a breath, looking down at their joined hands. "It happened one night while we were camping."

His fingers shifted against hers and she squeezed his hand in what she hoped would be a comforting gesture. "We were camping, and the fire…." he trailed off, head still down like he couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes.

Momo took a small step closer to him, ducking her head so she could better see his face. Her mind was playing out dozens of scenarios that could have led to Shouto being injured.

"We were roasting marshmallows."

"For s'mores?" Momo prompted, wanting very much for Shouto to look at her.

He nodded his head. "Exactly. And mine….caught on fire."

"Oh no!" Momo gasped. "And then what?"

Shouto shrugged, and she saw a flash of turquoise and grey as he finally looked at her through his bangs. "Got too close to my face," he said offhand, his mouth quivering against a barely contained smile. "Didn't even get to eat my s'more," he finished in a truly dramatic voice.

Momo blinked, her mouth opening and then immediately closing again. She stared at Shouto in shock, as his shoulders shook with the soft laughter he could no longer contain.

"Ha, ha," Momo laughed dryly, unable to stop her lips from spreading into a smile as she punched Shouto with her free hand. "Now tell me the true story."

He brought himself back under control, and Momo fought for breath when he looked at her with a mischievous expression. "Would you believe alien abduction?" he asked, voice sounding shockingly serious once again.

Momo snorted softly. "No," she told him flatly.

"It was a terrible ironing accident," Shouto said with a pained sigh, "I swore to only buy permanent press—"

She punched him again, harder this time. "Stop teasing me," she couldn't stop her own laugh from escaping.

Shouto nodded his head and looked directly at her, his eyes pinning Momo to where she stood. His warm firm hand flexed against hers, that physical contact with him, deepening the connection she felt growing between them.

"My mom's…sick. Mentally sick," he clarified, his expression growing sad. "I was pretty young and don't really remember what happened."

He pulled his free hand through his hair. "She was just screaming in the kitchen, and I remember being frightened by the sound of it. I woke up in the hospital." Shouto shrugged, his lips pulling down in a frown.

"The doctors thought I had a good chance of healing," he continued with another small shrug. "And then when it was still like this - they said it wasn't a good idea to have surgery until I'd reached my adult height."

Momo looked at Shouto, really studying all the lines and angles of his face. There was no question he was a very handsome man. She had admired pictures of him, like any time she saw the cover of one of his albums on her playlists.

'But that's the Shouto the world knows,' she thought, her attention focusing on the scar around his left eye. Before today, she had been as ignorant as the rest of the world. 'Why did he hide it?' she couldn't help but wonder.

'It certainly doesn't detract from his appearance,' heat blossomed in Momo's cheeks, unable to believe she was standing this close to Shouto Todoroki, and was just staring at him.

Heart hammering away in her chest, Momo tucked a little hair behind her ear. "But you never had the surgery…" she left it open; though the statement was an obvious one, Momo didn't want to pry into things Shouto wasn't willing to speak about.

Shouto gave his head a brief shake, "Couldn't take the risk," he said, clearing his throat suddenly, and drew their joined hands up before him.

"S-since no one knew about it?" Momo asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," Shouto said with a sigh, his fingers pressing a little more firmly against the back of her hand. "I…uh," he cleared his throat, "there was a time that I didn't mind the hiding. It was…like becoming someone else…"

"I didn't go into this, wanting to be a lie," Shouto said with a sigh, as he leaned back against the wall. "I hadn't let this scar define me, but I let someone else decide that it did…"

Momo studied Shouto's face closely, witnessing his expression twists with anger and disgust. 'His song…' she thought, Shouto's lyrics tumbling through her head with the now familiar sound of his voice. "That's why you wrote What You See of Me…" Momo said with sudden understanding.

She looked up at him. Shouto had pressed his head back against the wall, and was looking down his nose at her. His mouth pulled up into a wry smile. "It was my apparently poor attempt to protest the trap I let myself fall into."

"Is this me?" Momo whispered, hearing in her mind the haunting way they almost lost those words in the heavy beat of the music. 'That line always gave me chills.'

"I, uh…may not have known the true meaning behind the song," she said, glancing away from Shouto as she gathered her thoughts. "But I do think that song has meant a lot to the people who hear and love it."

"Yeah, I guess…" he agreed, and lifted their joined hands so her fingertips were almost brushing his jaw. "I-I'm tired of being forced to hide, of having to be someone other than who I am…" he said, warm breath puffing against Momo's fingers.

It made sense to Momo now why Shouto was such a private person. The man the world knew as Shouto Todoroki wasn't the entire man. "Is that why Bakugou is the spokesman for the group?" she asked.

Shouto snorted, "I've never been able to compete with him for personality."

"He is a little larger than life," Momo giggled, her heart fluttering again to see Shouto's smile.

"Nothing gets to him…" Shouto sighed, and brought her hand to his chest, holding her fingers over his heart.

Momo swallowed, not wanting to break this moment they were sharing. "It, uh…it sounds like you envy him," she finally said.

He drew a deep breath and met Momo's eyes. "The job would be a lot easier if I could just go back to not caring," Shouto said in a tired voice. "Like Katsuki…"

"It's easier for him," Momo contended, "To not care, I mean. He's not the one being told to hide a part of himself from the world."

Momo's free hand lifted from her side, moving to the left side of Shouto's face before she realized what she was about to do. Hesitating, Momo looked into Shouto's eyes, silently asking permission. He leaned his head a fraction closer to her waiting fingers, and Momo gently lifted his natural red bangs.

"Who was it?" she began, her thumb lightly ghosting across the scar. "Who told you to cover this?"

Shouto leaned into her touch, his eyes never wavering from her face. "Our agent," he replied in a hollow sounding voice.

"Did he say why?" she asked, her fingers trailing into Shouto's hair at his temple.

He blinked at her, jaw tightening as he frowned. "It's disfiguring…I thought that was obvious?" He sounded so sure of that statement that Momo gasped, her fingers pulling away briefly. "Between my heterochromatic eyes, and—"

"It sets off the striking colour of that eye," Momo cut in once she found her voice again. Her fingers pushed aside his bangs again, and she smiled up at him. "Now that I see you, with it, it seems more strange to me…to see you without it."

"How can that be?" Shouto was quick to ask, his eyebrow raising near where her thumb rested against his forehead. "You've only ever seen me without it. How could it look less strange?"

"I don't know," she admitted, offering him a shy smile. "It's a part of who you are."

Shouto released a shaky sounding breath, and he pulled Momo's hand more tightly against his chest. "I-I…let myself believe I couldn't be accepted with it." He looked up at the ceiling, his eyes blinking rapidly for a moment.

Momo licked her lips and took a step closer to Shouto. "I…" she hesitated. 'Can I really tell him I think he's beautiful? That he shouldn't have to hide his scar from the world. Would my opinion even matter to him?' Momo shifted her feet. 'Don't overthink this,' she chided herself.

"I like you, just the way you are," she admitted, allowing her left hand to more fully touch his temple and cheek.

Shouto leaned his head into her hand, his eyes shutting as he released another slow breath. Momo smiled, her heart fluttering with giddiness to see Shouto's whole demeanour shift, like a weight had suddenly lifted from his shoulders.

His eyes opened, heterochromatic irises pinning Momo where she stood, sending her pulse racing. Shouto leaned towards her, his mouth mere inches from her lips. Her mind froze. 'Is he going to kiss me?'

"Ladies and gentlemen, the museum will close in fifteen minutes. We ask that you kindly make your way to the exit."

They both jumped at the unexpected PA announcement. Momo's heart leaped up into her throat, and a strange mix of disappointment and relief washed over her, as Shouto straightened to his full height.

"I don't want this day to end," he said, tone almost petulant to Momo's ears.

She drew a shaky breath into lungs that had briefly forgotten their job. And Shouto's nearness overtook her senses. "It, uh…doesn't have to, yet…does it?" she stammered, while trying to get hold of her flighty emotions.

"Come with me," Shouto said, his free hand finding Momo's and drawing both her hands to his chest. He smiled down at her with bright, hopeful eyes.

"I, uhhh…" Momo stammered uselessly.

"You said your plans didn't start until nine?" Shouto was quick to ask. "There's still plenty of time for…" he visibly swallowed. "Come with me."

Momo nodded her head, unable to look away from Shouto's handsome face. She saw the relief wash over him, and that giddiness wash over her again in heady waves.

…

Shouto squeezed Momo's fingers before shifting her hand to the crook of his elbow. And her shoulder bumped lightly against his as she looked up at him with a ready smile. 'I still can't believe my luck,' he thought with stunned amazement.

The sun was well on its way to setting, as he and Momo approached the security gate at Shibuya Crossing. Shouto had taken them around to the far side of the venue, wanting to avoid the crowds of people slowly filtering in for the performance.

Reaching into his back pocket, Shouto withdrew his security badge and noticed Momo's curious glance. He looked down at the specially made card, which declared him to be a performer with full access. Shouto thought little of the picture that accompanied it.

Momo's grey eyes looked from the card to his face and back again, a subtle blush creeping into her cheeks. "Will I be a problem?" Momo asked suddenly, her voice a touch concerned, before she added, "I do have my ticket for the show if that helps."

Shouto huffed a quiet laugh. "We'll be fine," he insisted.

Approaching the gate, one of the security guards stepped forward and said, "Can I see some ID, please?"

He extended the badge to the officer, who looked it over carefully before studying Shouto. The man looked briefly confused before he nodded and passed the badge back. "Go on through," he said, stepping aside.

Shouto guided Momo through the narrow gate ahead of him and retook her hand once they were on the other side. "See? no problem," he smiled.

Momo glanced back over her shoulder as they walked away. "Do you know that guard?" she asked. "Or does he know about your scar?"

"Nah," Shouto shrugged, seeing Antipode's tour bus ahead of them. "He probably thinks I did it as a disguise."

"Oh," Momo said, her attention shifting back to his face. "You shouldn't have to hide it," she said, her gaze intense.

Shouto paused outside of the bus door. Looking down at Momo, he swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "It really doesn't bother you at all," he said, amazed.

A fire burned within him, warm and content, to be accepted. He turned towards Momo, his left hand coming to rest on her upper arm. Staring into her eyes, Shouto's mouth curved into a wondering expression. Momo's full lips parted as Shouto leaned towards her.

He wanted to taste those lips, had wanted to for much of the day. But he was determined to not chase Momo away by being too forward. 'She didn't try to pull away at the museum,' he tried to encourage himself.

Shouto saw Momo's eyes close as he narrowed the distance between them. He thought her breath quickened, and there was definitely a rosy blush entering her cheeks.

"Ow!" Shouto barked in surprise when the bus door slammed into him.

"'Bout bloody time you showed up!"

Straightening up, Shouto shot a glare towards Bakugou. "Do you work at having terrible timing?" he growled.

"My timing is perfect!" Katsuki said haughtily, glaring down at Shouto. "You're the idiot who never makes his move."

Shouto swallowed back several retorts he wanted very much to throw into his friend's face. "Were you going out? Or just being an ass?" he asked instead, looking pointedly at the doorway Katsuki was still blocking.

"Whatever," the drummer grunted, as he backed up the steps.

"I should, uh…probably go find my seat," Momo said suddenly, her hand shaking free of Shouto's.

"Don't go yet," Shouto said, unable to keep an obvious note of pleading out of his voice. "Stay," he asked her.

Momo's lips curved in a shy expression that sent Shouto's pulse racing. "I'd love to, but I don't want to lose my seat?" Her eyes darted away, colour blooming in her face at the sound of Katsuki's not very subtle snickering from inside the bus.

"Where are you sitting?" Shouto asked.

"Oh!" Momo exclaimed, her right hand dipping into the pocket of her coat and withdrew a ticket. "Section M row 7?" she read off of the slip of paper.

"Waaaay in the back," Katsuki barked, leaning back into the doorway of the bus. "Lame," he declared harshly.

Momo's free hand moved to tuck some loose strands back behind her ear. "Uh, but, I was overseas at the time and I set my alarm to go off…but, the sale started early? Or something, I had to wait." She explained in a bit of a rush, "And by the time the little waiting room thing opened—"

"Your boyfriend has reserved seats," Katsuki broke in bluntly, "And if by some miracle he has too many friends, you can have one of mine." Shouto blinked in surprise at the almost friendly way those last few words left Bakugou's mouth.

"Just make the sob story end!" And that was the Katsuki he'd expected.

"Be nice to her," Shouto growled, and motioned for Momo to precede him onto the tour bus.

Katsuki's head jerked on his neck as he shot a glare Shouto's way. "I just offered her a front row pass. That's pretty damn nice!"

It was Shouto's turn to glare as he let the door close securely behind him. "Watch your language."

"So you're showing off for her," Katsuki said with a mocking smile. "How sweet."

"Get lost," he hissed, stepping up into the main sitting area of the bus.

"Get that crappy dye outta your hair and cover that damned scar," Bakugou ordered without hesitation.

Shouto dropped his gaze from his friend, as a heaviness settled onto his shoulders. The prospect of getting ready to perform, of donning the lie once more shattered the enjoyment of his day.

"I think he should…just be," Momo's soft voice spoke up from behind Shouto, and he looked over. There was a fire in her grey eyes as she stared past Shouto to Katsuki. "Just be him! Scars and all."

She took a step forward, her arm bumping against Shouto's. "So, why don't you back off?" Momo's expression was far more certain than her tone.

Shouto couldn't quite believe his ears. 'No one speaks like that to Katsuki,' he thought with a sense of wonder. His heart beat a little faster in his chest to be reminded that Momo liked him exactly as he was. 'So much so, she'll set Katsuki off…'

Katsuki stared at her for a moment, his right eyebrow raising on his forehead as his eyes narrowed. "You've been here what five minutes?" the drummer scoffed, his teeth baring in a dangerous smile. "You wanna last another five? Don't tell me what to do!"

Momo didn't shrink away from Bakugou's anger, though she broke eye contact with him to look up at Shouto. "I just…" she appeared to draw a breath, her expression shifting from concerned to confident before she turned back to Katsuki.

"It's his decision. But allow him to make it." Momo's voice gained strength as she spoke. "He doesn't have to. But either way. If you're his friend, you should let him decide. What he wants the world to see."

Shouto's hand sought Momo's beside him, and immediately felt her warm, slender fingers twine with his. Bakugou leaned towards Momo, hands shoved deep into his pockets. His reddish eyes sparked as he glared down at her. "You're right," he conceded in a growl.

"But it was always his choice," Katsuki added with his harsh glare, landing squarely on Shouto. "Wasn't it half n half?"

Biting the inside of his cheek, Shouto released a tired breath. "Yeah…" he sighed, and saw Momo's head jerk to look at him. 'I could have stopped this long ago…' Shouto's eyes met Momo's, and he opened his mouth to speak.

"I…" was all he managed. 'I told myself they trapped me. Because being trapped by someone else was a shield to the truth. That I was terrified…'

"Argh!" Katsuki roared, "Just go get ready! However you chose," he sneered when Shouto looked over. "I'll keep your girl company," Katsuki smirked at the end.

Glancing down at Momo, Shouto felt his stomach clench at the thought of leaving her alone with Bakugou. Not simply because Momo had practically swooned when she'd recognized him. But because Katsuki could—to put it simply—be an ass.

Momo's eyes crinkled with her smile. "Go ahead," she said, and briefly bit her lip before adding, "before your friend pops a blood vessel…"

Shouto had to work quickly to swallow the laugh that wanted to escape. Bakugou bristled at the comment, shooting a dark glare Momo's way. Reluctantly, Shouto released Momo's hand and took a step towards Katsuki and the back of the bus.

The drummer slammed his shoulder into Shouto's as he made to move past, and the two caught each other's eyes. "I like this one," Katsuki growled in a low voice. "Try not to screw this up."

Caught flat-footed, Shouto stared at his friend in slack jawed amazement. "You've never said that about anyone," he blurted out just as softly.

"And I already regret it," Katsuki snarled, before jerking a thumb back over his shoulder. "Now get moving."

Shouto cast one last reluctant look back over his shoulder at Momo. She offered him a smile; her left hand waving subtly. 'She doesn't look like she's uncomfortable with this situation.' Shouto reasoned to himself.

'Is that just because she wants a chance to speak with Bakugou?' Jealousy reared its ugly head in Shouto's gut, making his stomach churn. He tried to return Momo's expression, but could tell by her look that he hadn't exactly been successful.

With a sigh, Shouto turned and made his way quickly towards the bathroom. He wanted to be quick.