A/N: Holy. Shet guys. The response to the last chapter blew me away; to think that everyone was so nice too, it's just… absolutely incredible, and I am beyond touched. It means the world to me, hearing from every one of you guys. And anyone from the AO3 crowd; Welcome to Fanfiction!
Also, to my guest reviewer Sarabi; yes indeed, that Horikoshi doodle was what helped out last chapter xD (P.S. Horikoshi is basically my spirit animal)
Another thanks to my beta jilnachtaugen, who always makes sure my facts line up. And I finally got a hold of the grammar police through 'Too Many Obsessions to Choose', who helped me with commas and speech marks I'd been getting wrong all my life - small, yet so important.
I'm kinda nervous posting this chapter now, cuz I feel like the pressure of expectation to continuously up my game is on. Oh well. Hope y'all like it!
The Sixth Fault - Ego
All over U.A, a dreary sort of atmosphere had settled, like dust on an old couch. No more would one see students lounging about idly during breaks, instead, a huddle was usually gravitating around a textbook of some sort. Teachers were throwing out homework assignments almost purely of reading tasks. The whispers in classrooms weren't ones of gossip any more, but those of academic discussion within the library.
Exam season was upon them.
"Yaoyorozu, I'm missing something."
Momo sighed, internally groaning, turning rather reluctantly to face Todoroki, who moved over his notebook for her to read.
Exam preparation week had started. This meant everyone in class was finally taking the studies they should have been absorbing attentively from day one, seriously. The written test would be held two days before the practical, and would have parts from every subject thrown in, meaning they had to cover a wide spread of information for a single exam that would only last 3 hours.
By far though, the most surprising development had been Todoroki. He had actually started taking notes during classes, and would spend most of their free time in the library. He continued his after school training sessions as always, but she had once caught him enumerating the different legislatures of heroes from 1955 under his breath while creating his usual blasts of ice and fire.
If this wasn't change enough, he had also begun asking her for help.
At first she had been utterly thrilled, and was fully prepared to subliminally rub her larger expanse of knowledge in his face (and maybe pay him back for all the favors he'd done for her). However, the first encounter had gone something as such.
"Yaoyorozu, when it talks about fermentation here," she had leaned in, eyes bright, fully prepared to start explaining concepts from scratch, already compartmentalizing the different paragraphs. "Why are they mentioning glucose? Isn't it lactate? And isn't it in yeast?"
"No, see, when oxygen is deficient, mitochondria can't fully operate, so-"
"Without oxygen, fermentation occurs, and with it, things continue as normal."
"Well, yes-"
"I see."
And he turned away, leaving her blinking in confusion as to what exactly he had 'seen'. She hadn't even begun her explanation.
The second time around wasn't much different.
"Yaoyorozu, when it mentions acid-based quirks here, why are they talking about pores? Before they mention sweat glands were the origin."
She pulled out her own book, and flipped to the chapter on water-centralized hero types. "See, look here. Usually, with water-based quirks, water is collected in the glands, but then distributed to the pores. So knowing that aerobic particles easily collect here-"
"I thought water-types hadn't been covered yet?"
"Well, they haven't, but you kind of need it to understand acid and poison quirk mechanics."
He huffed, a rather irritated sound, as if sarcastically saying 'teachers'. He took the book from her before she could say another word, muttering to himself all the while. Just as Momo had straightened, ready to delve into full lecture mode, Todoroki took a picture of the page and shoved the book back in her direction. She blinked.
"Shouldn't you do the whole chapter…?"
"That diagram has the answer to my question, correct?"
"Yes-"
"Then that's good enough."
A digital, off-contrast photo of a table on his phone, where he wouldn't even be able to highlight or makes notes on, was 'enough'?
That was another thing.
Todoroki had adopted this technique where he assumed that everything that would be brought in the tests would be whatever was currently being extensively explained in their lectures. When Momo brought it upon herself to draw up a list of references and online sites to use, Todoroki had said that those topics hadn't been brought up over the last two weeks and hence he was leaving them by choice (although he still took the list). And he was doing this for several subjects as well, leaving out major chunks simply because the teacher hadn't mentioned it.
"The teachers set our paper. So if they aren't teaching us this stuff in class, it's probably not coming at all."
The thing with Todoroki was that he was intelligent, and irritatingly so.
Concepts that took her days to fully understand, he grasped instantly. Momo quickly realized her pointers were hardly being utilized or appreciated. She was a gold-mine of learning; a vast library of knowledge just waiting to be tapped, and yet all he did was use her as a stepping stone to increase the height of his jump.
It hurt her on an innate level, knowing how little he had studied during the term, and yet there he was, coping just as well, if not…if not better. And to know that she was only aiding his ascent to the top?
When it came to studies, Momo Yaoyorozu simply wasn't that giving a person.
The last time he came for help was the final straw. He had asked to borrow her language essay as reference, and she had warily agreed; only to have him return it within the hour, saying he'd be better off doing it himself. She'd had to recite every meditative mantra in her arsenal to keep from whacking him. The most frustrating part was that he wasn't even trying to be rude; that bland, apathetic tone was commonplace with Todoroki. No, she simply hadn't been a means to an end for him that time.
The worst part was, Momo was well aware language was her weakest point, and hearing it reaffirmed by him was like a punch to the gut. To add insult to injury, he was obviously going to ace the practical, something she was dreading.
She'd had enough.
After spending a few minutes meditating in front of the bathroom mirror, she had finally told him that she wasn't a tutor, and that, since he was clearly doing just fine on his own, he should just help himself. The ice prodigy had agreed without looking too upset ('Somebody punch this guy'), shattering what little pride she had left. Although he did add that her small tips had been saving him lots of time, to which she had said that she didn't have any time for herself either, and needed to focus.
So he'd agreed – which had made her feel slightly guilty – and said he would then direct his questions at Iida (he'd clearly more readily swallow nails than ask Bakugo) – guilt gone. That was how Momo had gained slight peace of mind, determined to maintain her pride as the class' best overachiever. That was, until today.
Todoroki's pencil had not moved for a good 15 minutes now, a result of his struggling the entire lesson on their math worksheet. But she'd determinedly kept her vision focused on her own. He had been following her request quite religiously, and hadn't asked her anything since their talk. And by anything, she meant anything.
When Momo had said she'd rather he not ask her things, she had meant anything learning related, not to cut off talking entirely. Over the past days, it seemed like he was talking to everyone else except her, and even more so than usual. But she decided to say nothing to him about it, knowing she couldn't send him mixed signals now.
For a while now he'd been shooting furtive glances in her direction, and each time her heart would jump to her throat, thinking he'd talk, but he kept his mouth shut.
Just when she thought he'd never ask, he finally did.
Momo nonchalantly glanced over at his sheet, her ego internally inflating a few sizes now that he had finally talked. She hadn't even had to use other methods. A small glimmer of hope took root; maybe this time, she could actually leave some sort of lasting impression. But as she scanned his work, to her dismay, there didn't seem to be anything outwardly wrong with his calculations.
"Pass me your calculator," she said, and he complied. But one look at the screen had the vice president sighing while passing it back. "You're using the wrong mode."
Todoroki blinked, taking it back, and tried again. Momo watched idly as he put in the numbers, noticing how his frustrated expression cleared as he reached the right answer. Wiping away any signs of a smile, the dark-haired girl tucked away the small glow of happiness, reminding herself why she had put her foot down in the first place.
Oh. Right. The boy simply wasn't good for her self-esteem.
Shoto wasn't having a very good week.
Aside from exams looming ever closer on the horizon, it was June, and hot, which was especially frustrating because his ice quirk took an even larger amount of energy than usual. And it wasn't even like his fire suddenly got an added oomph either, quite the opposite in fact, since more effort than usual went into his right side. It would be rather irritating, but he still remained fairly confident for the practical.
The written test was another story though.
Leaving everything to the last minute hadn't been one of his best ideas, and things had piled up rather precariously. He'd had to largely cut down on most of the course, and instead had no choice but to focus on the tests from the examiner's point of view; a gamble he had been forced to take.
It didn't help that Bakugo had issued a (very vocal) challenge of getting his revenge for the sports tournament during these tests. Shoto had no idea what the idiot was blathering about; he had won. Not that the proclamation had had any sort of effect on him (because it hadn't) but now he felt like he was obligated to score higher than the explosive hero; simply out of principle. It was one thing to have lost to him before (in front of hundreds of thousands) but it was a different type of unacceptable to lose in a competition of IQ – not that exams measured IQ, and not that he needed some type of confirmation of something he already knew.
Then, just when the self-proclaimed prodigy felt like things couldn't possibly get more problematic, Yaoyorozu told him she couldn't help him anymore. Apparently, she didn't tutor people because she didn't have the time – even though her answering a random question now and then couldn't really be called 'tutoring' nor was the time he took from her at all significant.
In essence, she'd told him he was a bother.
Still, he'd agreed, since she must have had her reasons, even if he couldn't understand them. And hence, the already massive burden of cramming he had to do only magnified.
So it was with only a bit of effort that, when Yaoyorozu asked him to assess her progress later that morning during the physical training class, he pushed those feelings aside and graciously accepted. (Yeah right. He'd been prepared to downright refuse, but then the sun shone brighter, and her eyes sparkled in that extremely irritating way they tended to, and he found himself grunting begrudgingly in agreement.)
That was how they found themselves in the VR room, along with Jiro, who had also been invited by Yaoyorozu to gauge her abilities as a second opinion. Shoto felt a grate at his patience. Was his judgement suddenly not good enough? Where was this uncertainty when she had come running to him after the sports festival, with her wad of notes?
He looked up suddenly, realizing dimly that he had been spoken to.
"No quirks?" he asked, wondering if he'd heard right.
Yaoyorozu let out an impatient huff, midnight black hair blowing off her face. "Obviously. As if I'd stand a chance if you used your powers."
Damn straight. Shoto tried hiding the surge of satisfaction he felt swell within his chest from showing on his face. Momo rolled her eyes, noticing the self-appraising smirk glance his lips before he wiped it away. Him and his pride.
And then it started.
They instantly both crouched into a fighting stance, neither moving at first. Momo then realized she had no right to be on defensive, since it was her movements that were being gauged. And besides, if the roles were reversed, Todoroki would be going in for his classic one-hit KO without hesitation. Gathering resolve, she charged.
Within seconds flat, she was in his face, reaching out for his shoulders, aiming for a grapple. With practiced, instinctual ease, Todoroki swerved to the side, simultaneously grabbing her arms and, digging his heels into the padded mats below, he pulled. Like a rag doll, he spun her over, flipping her onto the floor.
Momo twisted herself just in time, landing softly enough to now have the air knocked out of her. Not wasting a second more, Momo threw out her leg, tracing a large arc, aiming for his feet, but again, he easily dodged.
'Perfect.'
Using her opposite foot still firmly planted down, the young heroine pushed herself forwards, catching him around the waist, and, successful in overthrowing his center of balance, they both went careening to the ground. He landed underneath her with an 'oomph!'
As she pushed herself up, her fingers accidentally grazed against his sides and she saw his features contract in a half-smirk, half-grimace and he exhaled sharply, in a way that made her frown in thought.
Taking advantage of her opening, Todoroki brought up his knee to land a kick perfectly on her abdomen. Distracted as she was, she didn't even have time to guard, and she felt his blow resonate deep within her organs, diaphragm pushing up to empty the air out of her lungs. If Momo had been even slightly focused, her instincts would've kicked in and she'd have used her quirk to defend. Irritation overthrew her as she coughed it out, annoyed at still seeming so weak. Her mind raced.
Momo was sure she hadn't imagined it. Todoroki had smiled. Or as much as someone like Todoroki could smile during a spar. And he had flinched while knocking her hand away from where she'd jabbed him, probably without even realizing.
Shoto got up, wiping some sweat backhandedly from his cheek, worry seeping in. He'd landed that blow harder than he'd expected to, mostly because he had been expecting her guard to be up somewhat. He'd had his reservations at fighting a girl head on, but with her classic snark at her abilities being belittled, Yaoyorozu had insisted he'd best be able to critique any openings if he experienced them first hand. But…
He blinked. Yaoyorozu was smiling? Well…that meant she was okay…right?
He watched as she stood up, a strange light in her eyes, a wide grin in place. He readied himself. With a sudden flourish that jerked him into a defensive stance in surprise, she ripped out the elastic from her hair, and scooped any wayward strands out of her eyes, tying it more securely, leaving her face open and clear.
His mouth ran dry. He swallowed.
She then charged again, unleashing a rapid jab of blows she definitely hadn't been able to do only a month ago. Shoto warded off the onslaught, waiting unblinkingly for an opening as he blocked without much trouble (her improving didn't mean he had suddenly grown worse). Without warning, a clenched fist veered off its previous course and came flying towards his face. He caught it instantly.
Suddenly, Yaoyorozu smirked, and his satisfied expression was wiped clean as the ice-and-fire user realized too late that he'd left his right side wide open. A sharp hand approached his flank and almost reflexively, he felt ice begin to gather at his right foot. But before he'd even had a chance to comprehend what was happening, her curled fingers brushed the underside of his ribcage. The ice user grinned despite himself, and instantly stepped back, attempting to get out of her reach, his mask-like expression back on.
But the damage was done.
Yaoyorozu grabbed the hand that had been holding her wrist and flipped him, using the same maneuver he had at the start. Winded, he gave a loud rasp, but before Shoto had a chance to move (had she become faster, or had he become slower?) she sat on top of him, straddling his waist, her legs pinning his down, hands on either side of his head, the perfect mount position.
She really had been reading those stupid MMA books.
For a moment, they remained like that, sweat dripping down both of their faces, barely inches apart. Yaoyorozu was grinning smugly, eyes aglow with the backlight from the ceiling, directly above his head, her light panting stirring the hair at his forehead. And for that moment he stared, catching his breath, tracing the droplets of perspiration as they trailed down her neck, chest heaving with each breath. His eyes moved with her every movement, forgetting that he was supposed to be assessing her fighting skills, forgetting that this was the middle of the day, with people separated by just a wall.
Forgetting about Jiro sitting right there.
Shoto's eyes snapped to the side of the room. His eyes met the punk rock heroine's, and he felt heat crawl up his neck as he noticed the large, knowing smirk splitting her face in two. Jiro was quickly becoming the second most grating personality in U.A. (after Mineta, and replacing Bakugo).
Then, as if his movement had made her realize too, Yaoyorozu quickly moved herself off of him, legs folding in underneath her, sitting right next to him, her back straight, hands folded neatly in her lap. The dark-haired girl smirked down at him, and before he could stop himself, his line of vision had dropped to her lips. He watched dazedly as they moved, his brain taking more than a few moments to compute what it was that she was saying.
"You're ticklish."
His eyes snapped wide open. "Huh-?" Before he could process this, he watched as her hand drifted downwards, towards his stomach. Without hesitation, he slammed his right hand to the ground, several large icicles shooting up, barely missing her head as she leapt back just in time.
If his face wasn't warm before, it was on fire now.
"Hey, no quirks remember?!" she yelled.
"This match is over," he said, turning his head away from her prying gaze, getting up to leave. Jiro had erupted into full blown guffaws behind him. Momo ignored her friend and quickly stood up after him.
"Hang on Todoroki," she caught up to him as he put on his shoes. "There's no reason to be embarrassed. So what if you're tickli-"
"I'm not embarrassed!" he cut her off, turning around, eyes ablaze, "And I'm not-" his tongue jammed at the pathetic 't' word. "That."
He left into the connecting hallway of the training rooms before she could get another word out. She followed him, white socks thudding soundlessly against the cold floor.
Yaoyorozu sighed. "Honestly, you're such a child."
Todoroki glared at her, only to see her looking at him, face clear, reflecting her earnest agitation. To his mortification, he felt the heat from his neck spread to his face and he quickly raised a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose, passing a chill through it in an attempt at lowering the sudden inexplicable increase in temperature. She frowned, not understanding her peer's strange reaction in the slightest. "Well… at least tell me how I did."
There was a pause.
"You've improved from before," he said finally. "You'll be fine for the practical, especially since you'll be using your quirk as well. Make sure not to stress over it too much."
Yaoyorozu beamed. Todoroki was careful not to look at her, a controlled frown still tugging at his lips.
"Are you…." she started saying. He wished she wouldn't study him that way. He wasn't in a mood to be dissected. Not today. "Are you angry with me?"
This girl was incredible.
"I'm not angry." he said blandly, not looking at her.
"Well, you're mad."
"I'm not mad."
"You are."
"I'm not mad," he snapped, turning to glare at her. She grinned in satisfaction, that way she did whenever she won, albeit her smile was a bit lackluster. He turned back to the door, giving a close-mouthed sigh and left before she could interrogate him any further.
He was mad.
It was irrational, and he didn't really understand it.
He had planned on completing his math work during their self-study period, but this new development was proving to be a little troublesome. Seeing Jiro, Kaminari, Ashido, Ojiro and Sero looking expectantly on as Yaoyorozu prepared an elaborately simple run through of the history of supervillains on the board was testing his resilience unlike anything had in quite a while.
Yaoyorozu had only a couple of days ago told him she didn't teach, because she didn't have the time. Even though his sparse questions hardly took up any time at all. And yet here she was taking out an entire free study period to hold what was, basically, a tuition class. Todoroki felt what remained of his thinned-out patience burn away.
"So here, just remember, the worst villain, arguably ever, was Wormhole. The devastation he caused was unparalleled to none, and-"
"But hang on, I remember sensei saying the most destruction ever caused was by Bleakator," one of the girls interrupted.
"Yes, in terms of physical wreckage. However Wormhole-"
"Yeah, I remember that!" That was Kaminari. "Sensei did say something like that didn't he?" Todoroki instantly felt a spike in his irritation as the blond interrupted. Ohhh he was not in the state of mind to listen to Kaminari. "Here, I can even find the page where it says that." And he proceeded to flip through the textbook.
"And I'm agreeing with you." Yaoyorozu had too much patience. Todoroki tapped his pencil impatiently against the blank page in front of him, reading the same line again for the sixth time. "But you have to look at the time in which both of them were respectively at large-"
"Here!" The blond piped up, cutting Yaoyorozu across again. Todoroki felt his head throb. Was the idiot not listening to her at all? Kaminari proceeded to hold up and point to the paragraph. "Look at that hole! Apparently, it's still lying there in the middle of the ocean. They have guided tours there and everything."
"That's correct. However Wormhole-"
"'The pit created by Bleakator remains the widest manmade crater on earth."
Why had Kaminari bothered coming to this class, if he was just going to listen to the sound of his own voice? Or perhaps, a better question yet, why was there a class in the first place?
"It is second only to the Vredefort Crater, and spans over 90 miles.' That is some massive firepower! Not even Bakugo could destroy something that level."
"So he created a giant hole," Todoroki interjected, finally snapping, unable to contain himself. The level of intelligence was starting to reach ridiculously low levels. "But he didn't take anywhere near as many lives as Wormhole."
The small group all turned to stare at the sudden intruder in obvious surprise, probably forgetting he had been there at all. Yaoyorozu was the first to recover.
"U-uhm yes, exactly. Wormhole was responsible for the deaths of over 1500 people, wiping out 3 villages completely from existence-"
"Wrong."
Yaoyorozu sighed impatiently. "What is wrong exactly, Todoroki?"
It wasn't lost on him that the only time she lost her patience was when he pointed out the answer. An answer meant to help her. To a point she'd been trying to make. To something clearly her class hadn't been listening to at all. He found it all rather irritating.
"They weren't wiped from existence," he said, eyes leveled, tone clipped.
Yaoyorozu sighed. "Turn to page 34 and 35, it says pretty clearly-"
"Simply quoting pages won't pass you any tests." He took some mild gratification in seeing her jaw drop at a loss for words. "It says they were then rebuilt by the same hero who defeated him."
"They were still destroyed though."
"You said to be exact," he rebutted. "And following through requires me to say that being rebuilt, with the same names, with the same people moving back in, in essence, restored them back to existence."
"I don't want to waste time arguing semantics."
They glared at each other from across the room for a few seconds before he huffed, the breath stirring up his bangs, before turning down to continue his quadratics. He heard her sigh.
"Sorry about that, guys. Now if we can continue in peace…" She shot him a look, which he ignored completely, writing down the answer to the first question on his worksheet. Satisfied he was sufficiently distracted, Yaoyorozu continued. "So the most physical damage was done by Bleakator, and the largest genocide was by Wormhole. This makes a rather convenient segway to the villain who did both; the villain spreading the most terror, ever in history. Any guesses?"
"Mundane?" Kaminari struck again.
A sharp snort resounded loudly. Todoroki had given up on getting any work done, choosing instead to aimlessly darken the scribble in the corner of his page. "Yeah, if by terror you mean mass subterfuge."
Kaminari made a childishly derisive face in response, but Momo bristled in hearty anger.
"Todoroki, please stop." Her tone emanated her no-nonsense tolerance.
He leaned back lazily, looking at her through subtly narrowed eyes. "What? I don't see a problem. I'm giving my opinion. It's a group-study class after all – oh wait, no, it's self-study. Isn't it."
Yaoyorozu's eyes narrowed as she studied him for a second before replying, "I'm trying to teach."
The pre-heroine had chosen the wrong words. Shoto narrowed his eyes as well. "I thought you didn't teach."
"I don't," she snapped. "But everyone here was struggling with the same thing, so I thought I'd-"
"I thought you didn't have time," his voice was dripping with mockery. "I thought you needed to focus."
The rest of the study group had fallen silent, watching the rare public exchange between the two, their heads whipping back and forth; now however, their gazes were currently fixed on the vice president.
The creation artist opened her mouth, about to say something before she stopped and swallowed visibly. For a moment her eyes glowed over-bright, as if she were about to cry. But just as doubt and regret had started to bleed into his mind, suddenly, she inhaled deeply. Then exhaled. Her back straightened. "Todoroki, please see me outside," she said rigidly, and walked out the front classroom door, not sparing him a glance.
Heads all turned to stare at the boy in question. He snorted loudly again, crossing his arms. He wasn't going anywhere.
The door slammed back open with a loud thud, and Yaoyorozu poked her head back in, eyes ablaze.
"Todoroki. Shoto. A minute of your time, please."
With a whip of her ponytail, she threw herself back out of view. Irritably he shoved back his chair. Shoto gathered his books, stuffing them into his bag and hiked it onto his shoulder before shoving his hands in his pockets. He should have just gone to the library like the rest of the class. He thought Yaoyorozu staying behind would mean better focusing here, but clearly, she had had other motives.
"Dude, Yaomomo went full name on you. You're so busted~" A voice hissed. Mineta. The insolent little bubble kid had been sitting in a corner without anyone knowing.
Shoto felt all the blood in his veins rush to his left side, the only thing holding him back from roasting him into oblivion being the fact that he didn't have a spare uniform to change into when he burnt through this one. Instead, he settled for taking some satisfaction when Ashido smacked the purple prune upside the head.
He stepped out into the corridor. Yaoyorozu was leaning against the wall, her foot tapping irritably against the floor, her gaze focused distractedly out the large hallway windows. Before he could do anything, however, she spoke.
"What was that Todoroki?"
She was looking at him, not with the angry expression as he had expected, but with one of disappointment. Like he had let her down. And just like that, he felt ashamed. Guilty. And that was ridiculous because shouldn't she be feeling that way? He gave a muffled sigh, eyebrows furrowing, gaze dropping to the linoleum floor, his mind starting to hurt wondering when exactly she had turned the tables on him.
They were back again; the flurry of emotions he just wasn't able to understand.
"Enough of trying to pretend you don't have feelings, okay? You're mad, and that's fine. But I want to know why."
"I'm not mad," he said, impressing even himself with how calm he sounded. He wasn't angry. He wasn't. Anger was for those without control, like his pathetic father. And even if he were mad, he certainly wouldn't be at her. And definitely not because she was helping people learn. That was ridiculous. That was a good thing, and he would strive to become a hero who encouraged good deeds.
If anything, he was pissed off at Kaminari for being so utterly idiotic and Mineta for grinding on his nerves. Because that definitely made more sense than him being mad at Yaoyorozu. Being mad at Yaoyorozu would mean something along the lines of him being annoyed she'd lied about not being able to help him. Being mad at her would mean he had wanted her to teach only him. Being mad at her would mean he was hurt by the fact that she simply wasn't willing to go out of her way for him.
No. He did feel angry; angry that she was making him think about something so mundane in the first place.
"Of course you are!" She cried out. "Do you think you're the type of person to openly mock others? Rhetorical question; of course not. You may be distant, but you're not cruel."
One thing he did know was that he wasn't in the mood of getting lectured. He huffed loudly, turning to walk away. He had studying to do.
"Where are you going?" She asked.
"Leaving. That's what you want, right?"
"No, I want to understand."
Shoto could have laughed. "There's nothing to understand." He started down the hall but she moved abruptly in front of him, cutting his path.
"Todoroki!" He groaned to himself. She was nothing if not persistent, he'd give her that much. "What's wrong?"
"Like I said; nothing."
"I'm not stupid!-"
"Fine," He said, perhaps more harshly than he'd meant to. He took in a steadying breath. "I'm mad. Satisfied?" He pushed past her.
"No!" she snapped at his back. "Why are you mad?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Todoroki-"
"You," he snapped, rounding on her, his limit finally met. "You are what angers me. Your perfectionism is smothering. Your one-sightedness is selfish, and in your self-proclaimed 'quest for redemption' you've succeeded in alienating everything that becoming a hero means."
Yaoyorozu stared at him, eyes wide.
She didn't deserve to look at him like that, like she had been done wrong against. He'd told her he was leaving, it was her who kept pestering him until he exploded, what else did she expect? That he'd sit down with her and discuss mental therapy over a cup of coffee? She would not make him feel regret; in fact, he felt better, like a load had left his shoulders. His eyes glanced behind her to catch the heads of their classmates dart back inside the classroom as they saw him look up.
Yaoyorozu was still quiet, and he looked back at her, the start of that something he didn't want to identify beginning to gnaw away at his conscience.
"Just… go back Yaoyorozu. Teach your class," he spat out the last part. "I'll get out of your way."
A flicker of realization crossed her eyes, and she finally moved, and he continued on his path. She took a small step towards him. One last, final attempt.
"Todoroki…" she said, voice quivering ever so slightly. "If you want, you can join us-"
The look he gave her then was more fierce than anything she'd ever seen. It reminded her of the beginning days, before the sports festival, the way he looked at anyone who got in his way. Although back then, he hadn't looked quite so… hurt.
"Don't patronize me," He hissed. Pinning her down with his glare, he began walking passed.
And that's how he left her, staring after him as he rounded the corner.
The first time Kyoka Jiro met Satomi Yaoyorozu, she didn't understand what Momo complained about.
Mrs Yaoyorozu was a sleek, pristine woman, without a single hair out of place, as if an iron had been pressed over her entire body. She was a woman who screamed independence and success, and Kyoka was instantly drawn to her.
From a very young age, coming from a large family with siblings much older than she was, Kyoka had to learn how to be smart in order to get what she wanted. Just standing out required meticulous planning and setting up, which sometimes even took days to weeks in the making. And this resilience had given her an independence she treasured – to be fully aware and in control of her own life.
It was almost sunset when Momo's mother entered the rather large hall they were studying in.
"What's going on here?"
"Mother," Momo turned. "We're having a study session. We won't be a bother."
There was a quick going around the table as everyone introduced themselves. "Good to see a hero school finally giving importance to academics."
Kyoka felt especially childish just then; they probably seemed so crude to the woman, all brawn, no brains. Suddenly, Kyoka was really glad she had studied what she had, because if the woman started asking random questions, she was fairly confident she wouldn't be completely blank. "Well, I hope you'll be able to extract some benefit from Momo. Feel free to add where you believe her to be lacking."
Ashido shot Momo a roguish grin, while Ojiro, ever the gentleman, answered, "On the contrary, your daughter is far too knowledgeable. If anyone were qualified to teach, it's her. She is the best in the class, after all."
"As well as being the vice president," Kaminari added.
"Yes," Mrs Yaoyorozu brushed non-existent creases from her coat. "Winning by a landslide of 2 votes, 1 of which was her own."
Snickers echoed around the table. Momo felt her face turn red.
"Ouch," Kaminari whispered in Kyoka's ear.
"I kinda like her," she replied back.
She could feel the blond roll his eyes at her. "Of course you do."
It was only later that night, when the boys had left for home, while Kyoka and Mina decided to spend the night in Momo's room, that the young heroine realized that life hit everybody just as hard, no matter how wealthy, well-dressed or successful.
Momo and Mina had left to get spare mattresses and throws for the night (the Yaoyorozu mansion had plenty of guest bedrooms, but it wasn't a sleepover unless everyone was piled up in one room) and Jiro, not knowing if she should scare them, trip them, zap them, pondered her options as she waited by the door. It was as she attached her plug into her wall listening for their footsteps that she heard it; the rising of angry voices.
While one voice was much louder and clearly female, the other was more subtle and male. Not to mention the voices were in the opposite direction to where Momo and Mina were still mulling around in the guest rooms. Kyoka made her way to the opposite wall, and realized with a start, that the voices were easily heard through Momo's window even without any aiding devices, although what they were saying exactly was only decipherable once she reattached her plug.
"How stupid do you think I am?"
"Quite, if you truly are so paranoid as to think I would lie."
"It certainly isn't unheard of, and when all the pieces of evidence are put together-"
"What pieces of evidence? Satomi, what reason could I possibly have?"
"I don't know, what reason does any man have to start having an affair-"
'Woah woah wooaaaah.' Kyoka immediately staggered back, plug falling out of the wall. That had been something she had most certainly not wanted to eavesdrop on. Her heart raced, and she felt the heat rise to her face. Momo wouldn't appreciate this, not in the slightest. And to her horror, she could still hear them rather obviously through the windows.
She quickly made her way over to Momo's speakers, spending more time than she was proud of trying to set up a connection, and put on some music. 'Oh thank god.' She breathed a sigh of relief as the rock music started thrumming through the room, effectively blocking out any of the voices.
"Kyoka, what in the world?"
"Yeah, at least put on something with taste, jeez."
The two girls were back, and Kyoka quickly tried to regain composure, wiping any traces of agitation from her face, taking deep, controlled breaths to slow down her racing heart. Mina quickly bounced over to where she sat, dumping all sheets and blankets in the doorway at Momo's feet.
"Mina!" Momo cried at the mess.
"Here, let me put something on!" The fluffy heroine snatched Kyoka's phone, ignoring the other girl entirely, and began shuffling through Kyoka's playlist.
"Listen," Momo's no-nonsense mode had turned on. "We're here to study, and learn. Let's not put this opportunity to waste. They say the last few nights before an exam are the most important."
Kyoka watched as her friend began spreading out their different sleeping equipment while lecturing them and still sounding stern while doing so. She reminded Kyoka of her own mother just then. With a sigh, she got up to help, smacking some sense into Mina through the back side of her head, and the pink hero also reluctantly got up to help their host.
That seemed to lighten up their vice president's mood quite a bit, and after they had everything set up, she offered them a smile. Show her you cared and everything became right with the world. The sound heroine rolled her eyes.
Yup. Just like her mother.
"Thanks you two. Now!" The tall girl clapped her hands together. "Time to study!" she walked over to the speakers in an effort to turn it off.
"Wait Momo, let's study with the music on," Kyoka said rather frantically, running over to grab her phone out of her friend's reach.
"The mind cannot concentrate on two things at once, Kyoka," Momo chided, frowning at her friend's rather ruffled tone, and Kyoka had to make an active effort to not bang her head against the wall.
"Pfft, we're women, VP. We can multi-task!" Mina piped in. But it fell on deaf ears.
"You guys are hopeless. What would you do without me?"
"Just a second Momo-" But the girl had already pulled out the wire. And, just like in the movies, with the silence came the two arguing voices, pouring in through the windows. They sounded even louder than before, and if one simply pressed up against the glass, they could probably even make out the words.
Kyoka's eyes drifted onto her friends. Momo's face had gone pale, figuring out exactly what was going on outside and her eyes were wide, darting this way and that, as if trying to come up with a solution to rewind time.
"What's that? Are there people in your back lawn?"
Mina had begun making her way towards the windows, and before Momo had even turned, Kyoka had darted, hand thrust out to block the moth-girl's path. "No! I already checked. I think Mrs Yaoyorozu is watching some drama series or something. Right Momo?"
The girl blinked at the sudden question, obviously fighting a daze, and as Mina turned to look at her, she managed a weak smile. "Y-yeah…"
Mina seemed to accept this without any further questioning, and Kyoka idly wondered how the girl would cope in future life. "Aw man, your mom's living it up. She's chilling, while we suffer here, studying."
"I'd hardly call staying in a house like this 'suffering', Mina," Kyoka said, shooting a small wink at Momo. The latter just smiled at her gratefully. "So, music, Momo?"
"I suppose…" she relented. The girls shared a small, quiet smile. "But instrumentals only."
"Sure thing, boss."
The Todoroki estate wasn't as massive as it was beautiful.
It was certainly larger than the average household, with just its anterior walls spreading out almost two times their classroom in U.A. The large sliding entrance doors spanned up from the ground right up until the start of the sloping roof, the slate gray ceramic intricately tiled with all the curving grace of 15th century yamajirō. Spread across the smooth, cold stone the walls were large bamboo shutter windows, intricate, all deeply inlaid at regular intervals and quite reminiscent of the defensive architecture of feudal Japan. It was almost as if Endeavor wanted to be prepared in case a battalion of archers were to suddenly raid in the middle of the night.
However, although the house wasn't as numbingly large as the Yaoyorozu's, their gardens were overwhelming.
The front gate was at least a basketball court's distance away from the main doors, with the gardens being almost twice as wide. A walkway of cobblestone led the way neatly to the entrance, comprised of stones smoothed over by water – probably from the bottom of some crystal stream. As one neared the house, lush, fully grown bonsai trees sprung up from the ground, fanning their leaves in a display of thick, healthy splendor. And where there weren't bonsais, there were sakura, pine and maple trees, and, it being the forefront of summer, each was in its full glory, a burst of color and brilliance.
It had taken Momo the good side of forty minutes before she was able to, first, get over how breathtaking her classmate's home was, and second, tear herself away from the large pillar of the estate's gate. There had been no guards either – clearly a house full of heroes needed no such frivolity – and so she had walked down the path, feeling incredibly small and incredibly out of place.
She now stood at the doors, having rung the bell, back rigid in the way it got as nerves hit her, feet together and hands clamped in front where people could see that she meant only poise and no harm; a position her mother had drilled into her at a very young age. As she stared intensely at the door's edge, patiently waiting for someone (hopefully Todoroki) to appear, her mind began to wander.
It had been two days since their argument.
The written test had been conducted that morning and it had gone, surprisingly, much more smoothly than she had anticipated, given her mental state. But all considered, Momo was relatively certain she'd do fine. The questions had been easy enough, although whether or not she'd rank first was another matter that she wasn't concerned with (until her mother found out, that is).
Her impromptu tutor squad had bombarded her with teary smiles and overly bright eyes, singing her praise and insisting they would have not stood a chance without her. And it would have all made her feel incredible, were it not for one small detail.
Todoroki hadn't spoken a word to her.
He had arrived at the last possible second before the start of the test, ignoring Aizawa's glare, and had sat down quietly next to her, without so much as a nod. Throughout the three hours of the exam, Momo had been left distracted, their argument playing out in her mind on repeat. The ice user had then left with almost an hour to spare (Bakugo's pencil had suspiciously gone into overdrive after that, and he, too, left, ten minutes later); Momo had spent an entire five minutes staring at the door Todoroki had left through, and probably would have continued for longer until she locked eyes with Aizawa. Hurriedly, she lowered her gaze, lest anyone accuse her of cheating.
Momo was the first to admit she hadn't handled the Todoroki situation as wonderfully as she should have. Forget his personality being pride-ridden; hers was. Her mind was a complete mess. He was mad at her. He was mad at her and she didn't have the slightest idea of how to fix it.
Todoroki's frustration, her selfishness, his justified, hurt anger; everything had hit her at once with one sharp glare. Momo had been plagued in guilt ever since, and the only thing that helped her move past it at all was studying. Kyoka and Mina had brought it up a bit, and she was sure everyone who had been in that classroom wanted to know what happened next. But she had shrugged them off, saying she'd talk to him after the tests, and that he didn't need that sort of distraction.
A part of her had hoped that by the time the written test came along, things would have blown over, just like their previous disagreements. But seeing his cold shoulder towards her that morning confirmed her worst suspicions; he was still furious.
So Momo had decided to corner him, and fix it – she was prepared to beg if she had to….well, maybe just ask very, very sincerely for his forgiveness. But he hadn't been in the training rooms. After asking around (Tokoyami, Kirishima and Bakugo had stayed back after the paper to practice for their upcoming practical in two days), Momo discovered that the elusive prodigy had gone home.
A quick internet search had given her the directions she needed, and that was how she found herself in front of the Todoroki estate, quaking in her boots, wondering for the hundredth time what in the world she was doing there.
She felt nauseous.
The gentle sound of the door sliding open cut off all thought, and Momo felt herself jump in surprise as a sweet-looking young lady opened the door. She tilted her silver head at the younger girl in confusion.
"Hello," her voice sounded quite young. "How can I help you?"
Momo felt her mouth move, but no words came out. The woman, who Momo determined looked to be only a few years older than she was, blinked behind her glasses. "Are you lost?"
Rapidly, she shook her head, black ponytail swinging in a flurry. She couldn't for the life of her bring herself to talk. Now that she was there, and it was happening, and she was standing in front of what had to be Todoroki's sister, Momo simply couldn't get her mind to think in comprehensible sentences.
She drew in a large breath of air, and closed her eyes, exhaling deeply. She tried not thinking about how ridiculous she must look. "I-I'm… looking for T-Todoroki…"
"Which one?"
"Oh…" the creation specialist stared at the flat, embedded stones under her feet, feeling her face grow uncomfortably hot. "Shoto…"
Momo thanked the forces above that she didn't stutter this time.
The young woman let out a gentle exclamation, drawing the Yaoyorozu heir's eyes back up. "Ah! Of course! I should have recognized U.A.'s uniform!" She flashed Momo a carefree smile, grey eyes – so much like Todoroki's – lighting up, and she then rapped her knuckles against her head. "I'm such an airhead sometimes. Please, come on in."
Momo stepped inside, taking off her shoes, noticing that there were more than just two pairs already lined up in the shoe rack. In fact, there were almost ten there, so either Todoroki owned a lot of shoes, or the house was currently full.
Momo's level of apprehension sky-rocketed.
"I'm Fuyumi Todoroki, Shoto's older sister."
"Momo Yaoyorozu," she quietly replied, following after Fuyumi. The young creation specialist studied the older girl's back, noticing for the first time that the girl had streaks of red littering her hair, and she wondered idly if Fuyumi could control fire at all.
"I hope Shoto hasn't been causing you too much grief," Fuyumi turned, and flashed an expression towards her which could only belong to an older sister. Momo felt herself smile as the other woman's soft eyes shone with curiosity.
"No, not at all…-" Momo had to forcefully stop herself before she went on a rant about how it was her who was troubling him, and that her little brother was not only the perfect student and role model, but quite a lovely person as well.
"I'm glad," Fuyumi gave an almost knowing smile, as if she could read Momo's thoughts, and the student decided that if she were to have had an older sister, she'd have wanted one like this. "Here, why don't you make yourself comfortable, while I call him?"
Momo remained standing in the doorway, staring quite brazenly, as Fuyumi walked away. She had been left in what appeared to be a waiting room of sorts – it was bare from any sort of homely pictures or personal items, instead filled with enough decoration for one to be able to tell it was a room meant to impress. The floor was lined with tatami, and as Momo made her way over to sit down at the table in the middle of the room, she was surprised at how soft it felt underneath her feet.
One of the walls bore an intricate tapestry, and the rest were riddled with works of calligraphy. They were beautiful, but she didn't recognize any of them, and realized they had perhaps been crafted by one of the current residents. A window, large enough to be a door, lay open, letting in the calming sound of the breeze, which whistled faintly against the woodwork.
So engrossed was she in her studying of all the assorted pieces that she didn't notice the presence which had entered the room behind her.
"And who might you be, princess?"'
Momo whipped around, so fast the end of her hair slapped the side of her face, eyes wide.
The man who had entered was not Todoroki- well, of course he was a Todoroki; but he wasn't Shoto.
He was incredibly tall, for one. His face was chiseled, even though he could hardly be twenty years old. Two electric blue eyes glowed brightly, vivid even from where she sat, and he had a full head of deep, crimson hair. If she hadn't been looking so intensely, she would have thought he was Endeavor himself. But with his much leaner frame, and the large (slightly disturbing) smile stretched out on his face, it was quite apparent that this was his son.
His smile widened and, with a jolt of embarrassment, Momo realized it was because she'd been staring.
"Yaoyorozu. Momo. Momo Yaoyorozu," she said, tripping over her words, sounding truly like a lost, intimidated little girl.
Momo had never felt so overwhelmed in her entire life. There was something inherently not right about him, or his unwavering Cheshire-cat grin, and all her hairs stood on end, her instincts firing and her reflexes on high alert. But as a result, all the blood was diverted from her brain, leaving her rather slow on the uptake.
At her faltering, again, the towering male's smirk grew and a chill ran down her spine. He hooked his thumbs into his pockets, walking towards her in loping, self-assured strides.
"Right. So, Momo-chan," all her alarm bells blared at the casual use of her name. The complete disregard and lack of reaction to her family name also struck a chord; did he not know who she was? "What does a nice looking girl like you want with cold, distant, morbid little Shoto? Here to confess?"
Of all the things she expected him to say, that was not one of them. "N-..no!"
"You a stalker then?"
"No!"
"But you are into him, am I right?" He was now seated across from her, too close for comfort. However, up close, he felt much more…real, and somehow, Momo was able to regain some of her composure.
"Are those the only possibilities you can think of?"
"Well, you're a girl, aren't ya?"
As if making her female meant romance was all she could think of. She felt her feminist side flare up. "And that immediately makes me boy-hungry?"
"Yes."
The way he said that floored her. She opened her mouth to refute that highly degrading opinion, but stopped as she noticed his expression. He was looking at her in a way that made her skin crawl, and she suddenly realized he meant 'you're a girl' in a far more carnal sense. The fear was back. Momo sent a panicked, telepathic call to Fuyumi or Todoroki – her Todoroki.
What was taking them so long?
"Well…" she said, desperately trying to contain the tremor in her voice. Momo watched as he raised a scarlet eyebrow, his smile turned condescending, as if no matter what she said, his opinion wouldn't change. "I hate to break your stereotype, but all I'm here for is simply to clarify something."
"Ahh right, of course! You had to clarify something," he mocked. "And it couldn't wait until school?"
"No." As much as she'd tried, her response sounded weak, like a child being stubborn for no reason other than to pout. His patronizing tone had left her feeling defeated, ridiculed and utterly out of her depth; a trifecta she simply wasn't used to. At least, not with people who weren't her mother.
Once again, the look behind his dynamic blue irises changed. It blew her mind that eyes so strikingly similar to Todoro- Shoto's could be such poles apart, although the similarity meant she was able to read this man's eyes just as easily she was Tod-Shoto's. There was none of her peer's modesty, kindness or his charming insecurity here. The only similarity was a calculating intelligence. With T- Shoto, it was magnetic, whereas here, with his brother, it was fearsome. It was a look that showed he knew much more than he was letting on. His voice was light in a way that suggested he was carefree, however, there was something not...right... about the glint in his eyes.
"Are you pregnant?"
Momo felt herself choke, throat tightening uncomfortably and face flushing furiously. Her heart thudded erratically, and she was sure she was falling. "Excuse me?"
"No, you're not excused."
"No!" she couldn't meet his eyes. She wanted to leave. "No! I just owe him an apology."
He scoffed, a deep scratching of his throat, and suddenly, she felt a pressure start to build behind her eyes. "Oh really?" That derogatory tone again. "What could you have possibly done which would require you to come to his house, just for an apology?"
"I was disrespectful, when he's always been the opposite," Momo found her voice to be coming out quite steadily, much to her relief. She didn't need to give the man any satisfaction of having succeeded in shaking her to the core.
"Oh? How exactly?"
"Todoroki helped me, a while ago; how to fight, how to improve. It's helped me a lot, and yet, when I had the chance to repay that debt, I threw it back in his face."
She didn't know why she bothered answering whatever he asked. Silence was always a valid answer. It was like he had her under some sort of hypnotic, masochistic spell. Her mother would be ashamed.
"And hence, you feel he's upset with you." Momo's expression must have been answer enough because he continued. "I don't know, he looked perfectly fine when he came home. Happier than usual, even."
He was trying to get a rise out of her, Momo told herself. He took some sort of twisted gratification in antagonizing her, and she would not let him succeed. So she told herself. And yet, her heart sank as doubt began to trickle in.
"Well, regardless, I feel it's only right for me to clarify my actions."
"How noble. But allow me to clarify something to you, Momo-chan, just to help alleviate some of that...guilt." His tone had grown derisive, gaining an icy edge that hadn't been there before and with a start Momo realized; this man was evil. "Consider it a token of my appreciation of a pretty face; just so there's no confusion about where you are and who you're dealing with."
The air stilled, and something about him drew every ounce of her focus onto him. The room around them disappeared, and every muscle in her body tensed.
"You think just because Shoto talked to you a little that it suddenly gives you the right to waltz into our home. Into Endeavor's home?"
'What?' "N-no, I-"
"I believe I was talking," his eyes were stone cold, and Momo's mouth clamped shut, suddenly feeling very alone and very scared. "Endeavor has made sure to raise all of us not to disappoint. Even my half-ass failure of an older sister could sweep the floor with you. Such is expected of the offspring of the best hero in Japan."
Momo noticed how he said 'best' instead of 'number two', but she kept her mouth shut.
"Shoto is my father's pride and joy," he practically spat out those words, and Momo was suddenly alerted to a far more raw, more merciless relationship. Yet just then, she wasn't able to spare much sympathy. "And he is easily levels above docile little Fuyumi. His abilities are nothing to sneeze at, even I give him credit.
"So now, you listen to me very carefully," he leaned forward. Momo didn't move. "Shoto is elite. We are elite. We have fire flowing through our veins. I could have you burnt to a crisp right now, and would have to answer to no one. That is just how high we are on the socialist food chain."
Electric blue bore into her dark eyes.
His words should have threatened her. They should have had her quaking where she sat. However, the thought of her mother letting anyone get away with killing her was utterly ridiculous, and that thought alone comforted her.
"I think that Shoto doesn't think twice about you, or anyone else in that plebeian school of yours. He doesn't need to. So when he 'helped you'," the sarcasm and disdain were heavy as he said those words. "I'm positive it meant almost nothing to him. Something you considered a debt to be paid was probably not even worth remembering. So, Momo," he gave her a smile that chilled her very soul. "I can assure you, this debt you feel you absolutely must repay? It doesn't exist. You can rest easy."
He was mocking her. She knew it in her mind, but her heart broke anyway. It wasn't a stretch to imagine someone like Shoto not thinking twice about a 'commoner' like her. Someone like her, who always brought on problems; someone who had issues, who took advantage of his kindness, only repaying it with selfishness. Why would he bother keeping up with someone like that, whose strength and abilities paled in comparison to his. He kept proving himself, time and again, whereas the only highlight she'd had all year was being a recommendation student.
"Looks like you understand. I just saved you a very embarrassing conversation. Aren't you glad you opened up to me?"
Not in the slightest.
"So, Momo-chan, do you still feel upset? Because-"
"Yaoyorozu?"
Momo's heart jumped to her throat and her ears rang with the roar of her own blood. That voice was one she knew all too well. She didn't dare turn her head for the fear that, if she did, she would find it to be just an illusion created by her own mind. Or worse; an cruel illusion created by the man in front of her.
"And the prodigal hero of the hour appears!"
The sardonic words had barely left the man's mouth when Momo was already turning her head to look up. Todoroki – Shoto – was standing in the doorway. His hair was damp, like he'd either been practicing or in the shower. Relief washed over her like a bucket of cold water. Momo swore she had never been so reassured in her entire life.
Then the older man's words came gushing back in and, just as quickly, her happiness disappeared, replaced by a sadness more piercing than before.
"Why are you here?" Momo felt her heart stop, but then realized Shoto wasn't speaking to her; instead his gaze was zeroed in on the redhead in front of her, who returned the look with a lazy smirk. The young pre-hero's expression was a strange one, one of a simmering loathing and his tone rang with an undertone of - was that... fury?
"No need to get all angsty, baby bro. Unlike you, I was a good host, and I helped solve Mo-chan here's issue." Momo hardly reacted at the nickname. "Bet that's more than you can say, eh, Sho-chan."
Shoto's eyes suddenly fell on her and for the first time since they had started talking, the first time since what they shared between them had started feeling like actual friendship, she felt wary of him. Like she didn't know who he was anymore. And it bothered her that despite feeling this way, she couldn't look away from him; it bothered her that gazing into his mismatched eyes calmed her, eased her in a soothing way she simply couldn't resist.
The half-n-half hero frowned, looking just as familiar as she remembered him and yet just as strange.
"What issue?"
'Ah.' Momo thought listlessly, a soft, wistful smile tugging at her lips, not once breaking their delicate eye contact. 'Of course he'd forgotten. That's how irrelevant it was to him…'
Shoto's frown deepened at her expression. Her heart gave a rather tender throb. This boy would be the end of her.
"Weren't you listening Sho-chan? We solved it. Together." Shoto looked away from Momo, fixing his eldest brother with sharp glare, a complete 180 to the look he'd just been wearing. "In fact," the older Todoroki now looked over at her and, hesitantly, she looked back. "She was just leaving."
Ahh. Yes. She supposed she had overstayed her welcome. Momo stood, grabbing her bag and shouldered it. She bowed towards the older sibling, remembering her manners, silence ringing audibly as she began walking out.
There was a heart pounding moment where she passed Shoto in the doorway, their shoulders almost brushing, and for all the milliseconds she spent passing by, her blood thrummed in her ears as it rushed to her face, nerves spiking as she prepared herself for whatever he would say. Because he would say something. There was no way he would let her leave like that, after having come all this way, after having sat through and endured his brother…
But Shoto said nothing, remaining entirely motionless as she left, and when she glanced back, reaching the front, he was still glaring into the waiting room.
Perhaps he had been right, the older brother – whose name, she realized, she still did not know. Maybe all of this had never been an issue to her peer. Maybe all this time, he had actually been burdened by her presence... Or maybe, her presence was not so much an annoyance as it was negligible.
A negligible hero, with negligible abilities.
Momo left the Todoroki estate, eyes burning, face flushed, and feeling like the world's biggest fool.