A/N: We reached over one hundred reviews? I'm- it's just- I can't- akshoehlhshahf~! THANK YOU! I'm so freaking happy, I can't even control it! And so, my incredibly incredible readers, I'm dumping this chapter SUPER EARLY on y'all, even though I'll be home in a couple of days and could post it then, but I don't care!

Ahh chapter 8. Possibly one of my most - if not the most - favorite chapters. This kinda chill chapter (slightly shorter than usual – which will probably be made up by the really long chapters that will follow) is very much needed to officially say bye-bye friendship genre and helloooo romance ;) Hope you guys like it, and enjoy! :P

Slight spoiler warning, for the results of the license exam - where Todoroki, Momo and Bakugo are concerned at least. If you want to skip over the few lines it's mentioned, I'll put a * before and a ** after, so you know it's over.

(On a side note, can someone say hype for the end-of-term test arc finally starting in the anime? Can't wait!)

The Eight Fault - Sense

Why had she ever let Jiro talk her into watching that movie?

Momo walked the empty, dark corridor alone, back rod-straight, eyes set determinedly forwards, refusing to look in any other direction, making a beeline for the elevator. What felt like a cold breeze ran by and tickled her ankles. 'Why is there a breeze indoors?' The shadows flickered. 'Why didn't anyone bother putting in working lights?' Thuds sounded, muffled behind closed doors. 'Whoever is up at this hour needs to get castrated!'

She wasn't scared. Ohh no.

She was petrified.

It was the first peaceful night in the dorms, and Jiro had insisted on celebrating the passing of the license exams with a horror movie. How becoming a preliminary hero meant watching two and a half hours of third rate horror, she didn't know.

Momo was never one for horror. Not only was the entire premise ridiculous, but with her incredibly overactive imagination, she knew what it did to her (a week of nightmares and sleeping in her parents bed had been lesson enough), so she avoided it completely. But peer pressure got the best of her, and with all the girls gathered in Kyoka's room, (they would have used the common room, but the boys were being especially rowdy that night, and they simply weren't in the mood) popcorn and snacks at the ready, she couldn't turn it down.

It had now been an hour after the end of the movie. Everyone had dispersed back to their rooms (there simply wasn't enough space for a sleepover in a dorm room) and were probably fast asleep. Momo however had lain in bed, eyes wide open. Closing them made every sound too loud and too supernatural. Eyes open meant she saw every ripple of light coming in through her windows. Closing the curtains meant seeing shadows dance across them, like someone was right. Outside.

Finally, deciding she wasn't any closer to sleeping than she was two hours ago, Momo decided on a trip to the kitchen, at 1 am. Her mother had always given her a glass of milk whenever her nerves needed calming, and calming is what she desperately needed just then. The lit elevator helped, and she felt her nerves simmer down as the digital numbers slowly decreased, hypnotized by the change of neon green. But hearing the 'ting' of the elevator made her jump, popping her little bubble of serenity, and the sliding doors opening to reveal complete darkness gave her sudden palpitations.

Walking down to the kitchen, Momo spent longer than she'd care to admit searching for the light switch, heartbeat haywire and in a frenzy of pure, utter panic. When the lights finally turned on, she sighed heavily, her shoulders sinking in relief at the lack of any supernatural beings. Quietly, fluffy white slippers met the ground in silent thuds, Momo made her way over to the fridge, doing her best to fully ignore the darkness that still spread out behind her in the hallway of windows.

Opening the fridge, she sighed again. It had only been a day since the last restocking and already the boys had managed to suck it dry. Luckily, the mini cartons of milk, single person sized, were still left practically untouched (milk was obviously too boring a drink to have finished). She grabbed one.

"What are you-"

"WAAAHH!" Her arm swung out in a large arc, wide-sweeping over the fridge door in an attempt at hitting whatever attacker had come to kill her. The fear, however, had made her grip limp and the carton of milk went flying to the other side of the kitchen, where it bounced off the cabinets and landed on the tiled floor with a thud.

She looked to see Todoroki giving her a bland stare over the fridge door.

"Oh for Pete's- Todoroki! Don't do that!" she huffed, hand over her rapidly pounding heart. She was not expecting people to be down here at one in the morning. Darn combined living places. There were always people, everywhere.

"Talk?" He asked, and she glared at him. "Now that I know it'll get me beheaded, I won't," he stated. Beads of cold sweat gathered at her temples. He walked around the fridge door. "Move over."

She obliged, granting him full access to the fridge as she went to pick up her milk. Momo stayed there, leaning against the opposite counter, poking the straw through the hole and started drinking, all the while glaring at his back. It was a far better alternative than looking out the large, pitch dark floor-to-ceiling windows U.A. had decided to replace an entire wall with.

Todoroki finally straightened up again, hands full of an assortment of colorful vegetables. Of course he'd have such a boringly perfect pick for a midnight snack. She continued sucking at her milk, watching as he moved from closet to closet. Eventually, he found himself a plate, and after giving everything a quick rinse in the sink, freed his hands, a rather content expression on his face. Honestly, she was happy to just observe him doing whatever the hell he was doing – he reminded her of a rabbit in its natural habitat.

Then the strangeness of this entire situation dawned on her.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Making a salad," was his reply.

"No, I mean what are you doing down here?" she asked him.

"The guys are far too happy tonight; they're having some sort of…" he paused and looked up in thought. "Party. In the empty room on my floor. So I left."

Todoroki turned back to the fridge to pull out a bottle of juice.

"You're always separating yourself from them. Isn't that sort of… not allowed in the 'bro code' list of rules or something? Won't they get mad?"

He poured out the liquid into a glass. "They're forgiving," he said absently.

Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. "So you mean, you've been down here? Ever since?"

He returned the juice to the fridge and pulled out yet another bottle; salad dressing this time. "Fell asleep on one of those couches," he said, indicating the dark lounge area taking up the far corner of the common room.

"Just lying in the darkness?" she asked incredulously.

"Seeing as I was asleep," there was a click as he flicked open the bottle lid. "I didn't really care."

"…You're such a weirdo," she muttered, but loud enough for him to hear. Momo couldn't fathom how anyone could just…sleep anywhere, especially when the place wasn't your bed and everything was so incredibly dark. He ignored her, choosing instead to squirt ranch all over his plate, the bottle making a large squelching sound. After he was satisfied, he returned the bottle to the fridge, and then startled her by giving her a dry look, probably as a response to her statement. Momo lifted her chin; she'd thought he'd chosen to ignore her.

She opened her mouth to defend her words when, from the large, clear windows, she saw two bright red eyes staring straight at her. Momo let out a huge shriek, then immediately hid behind the counter, cowering in fear, trying to control her erratic breathing.

"Said the kettle to the pot," Todoroki quipped lightly, taking the first bite out of his rag-tag salad. He walked out of the small partition surrounding the kitchen, plate in hand, towards the window. Timidly, Momo got on her knees and peeked out over the top of the counter, watching him in anxious curiosity. He crouched down, took another crunch from a carrot, and then tapped gently on the glass. "It's just a cat."

She watched the eyes flash as it indeed appeared to be a cat looking away uninterestedly. Her eyes finally adjusting to the darkness outside and she watched the feline-shaped shadow lazily walk away. Todoroki turned around, raising an eyebrow at her in question. Momo sighed loudly, leaning her forehead against the top of the counter.

"You're scared," he commented lightly, cheeks puffed out rather adorably as he talked through a mouthful (she'd let etiquette slide, just this once).

"I am not."

"So jumping three feet in the air is a normal happening with you."

"I'm not scared," she snapped, and then turned her back to him, leaning against the wall, slowly sinking down until she sat firmly on the floor. He didn't reply. Momo quietly drank the last of her milk, the telltale gurgling indicating she'd drained the carton thoroughly. Bringing her legs up, and placing her arms over her knees, she swung the empty carton by its straw, lost in thought. This wasn't helping; she was even more jumpy than before. The fact that Todoroki himself moved around like a ghost didn't help.

Speaking of which; he was being exceptionally quiet, even for him. Especially strange, since he'd usually take this opportunity to lecture her on her cowardice.

"What, no snarky comeback?" she asked loudly, not turning to actually face him.

No reply.

Momo blinked. She got up slightly, mentally berating herself as her heart unintentionally sped up, and again looked over the edge at the window he'd just been standing with. He was no longer there. Her eyebrows furrowed.

"Todoroki?"

Momo tentatively stood up, and then looked down the hall towards the lounge area still bathed in shadows, the only thing lighting it the glow from the kitchen. It was empty. What in the world? She slowly made her way around the kitchen's small wall, and walked towards the glass. She peered out into the darkness.

Trees ruffled, and shadows flickered and she rapidly backed up, a chill running up her spine, hair standing on end, her grip so tight she had now crushed the thankfully empty milk carton. 'It's just a cat,' she chanted to herself, averting her eyes from the panes of glass. 'Just a stupid cat, climbing through the branches. Or an owl.' She looked back at the empty kitchen. Todoroki's glass of juice still lay on the kitchen counter.

She shivered as another breeze ran past.

"O-okay Todoroki, I'm going to call it a night," she called out, her words echoing hollowly in the large, vacant space, making the wobble in her voice all the more obvious. And, pathetically, that only proceeded to amp up her fears. "I-I'm going back to my room now…"

She threw away the empty, crushed carton, and headed back towards the elevator, rounding the corner, trying her best not to run.

"Boo."

"Gyaaah!" she heard herself shriek again. Momo whipped around to see Todoroki hiding an extremely self-satisfied smirk behind taking yet another bite out his god-forsaken salad. "T-Todoroki!" she yelled breathlessly. "I-I can't… You little sneak-"

"See? You're scared," he said matter-of-factly. "I didn't even put much effort into the whole thing."

He turned to walk back into the kitchen area, eyes closed and shoulders squared, the picture of utter confidence, the way he did when he expected she would follow. Todoroki went and sat on the ledge of the kitchen, facing the dark windows into nightmare-ville for some inexplicable reason, content with simply munching his food. Momo chose the more sane option of leaning against the doorframe where one couldn't see the darkness outside, arms crossed, still reeling from the fact that Todoroki had scared her and the fact that Todoroki had scared her.

"So what is it?" he asked finally. "Nightmares?"

Momo sighed. She might as well, now that it had gone this far. "A movie." He gave her a look. If only it were something as cool and mysterious as nightmares. Momo felt a small flush of embarrassment color her cheeks.

"Movies are all lights and makeup. Or do you need me to break down how one is made?" She didn't reply, just simmered in her own frustration. "The music they add is key," he explained without her asking; sometimes she thought the guy just liked the sound of his own voice. Because there was no other reason for him to be speaking just then. "It's always the same kind too, to the point where it just gets predictable; you know exactly what they're doing, and yet it works. The suspense is still palpable."

"I know," Momo found herself replying despite wanting to disagree with everything he said. "Half the time, if you just replace the sound track with a happy one, everything just looks stupid."

"Exactly."

Momo let this sink in fully as he very clearly inflated with being right yet again. "No but in this movie it was different!" she burst out. "They never reveal the monster or spirit or whatever. They just leave it up to your own imagination. It's the worst! And it lingers because you can't escape your own mind."

Todoroki remained quiet. However, somehow, dissecting it down and saying it out loud had made everything seem slightly less ominous. Todoroki scaring her had also probably helped lower the fear of the unknown as well, although she'd never admit to it.

"Well, it's late. I'm going to try getting some rest." Momo made to move towards the elevator.

"Will you be able to sleep?" she heard Todoroki ask.

"….it'll probably take a while," Momo replied honestly.

"Why couldn't you sleep before?" He asked, and when she turned around, it was to find him looking her full in the eye.

"I think we established the fact that it's because I'm a coward."

He waved her off with a shake of his head, leaning forward, "Was it the shadows? The darkness? The sounds?"

She considered his words for few seconds. "Probably the sounds. And the shadows. They kept shifting across the curtains. And-"

"So you're scared of what's outside your room?"

Momo honestly didn't know where he was going with this. "Yeah, I suppose."

Todoroki stood up from the ledge abruptly. "Then let's go outside," he said. "I've never understood people's fear of the night. It's quite peaceful." She just stared at him. He took one of the last pieces of ranch-covered broccoli from his plate and, after processing something, he held out the plate to her, clearly indicating for her to take the last piece.

"Uhh-"

"Just take it," he said, and so she uncertainly grabbed the final branch of broccoli, sniffing it for good measure. "Have you never had broccoli before?" he asked her flatly, watching her inspect the leafy green.

"Of course I have," and she took a bite. Seemingly appeased, Todoroki put the empty plate on the counter, and motioned for her to follow him out to the courtyard. "Do you always eat this late?"

"Every now and then."

"Seriously? What about metabolism?" she asked. "Metabolism drops during the night, you know."

"You're over-complicating things again," He said lightly. She huffed.

"I'll have you know circadian rhythm is a proven fact."

"I don't doubt that it is."

They had entered the garden now, the cool air gently blowing, and immediately gave rise to goosebumps all over her bare arms. The moon was bright, although the sky wasn't the clearest. Her eyes adjusted to the lighting, and she scanned the area, looking at the rows of trees running around the building, the well-kept grass, the trimmed hedges. There was even a small pond near the far end of the clearing.

"Everything has an explanation," Todoroki said, voice soft in the night air. He motioned towards the grounds. "The best thing to do is face your fear, and rip it from the roots."

The continuous rustling she had heard had obviously been due to the wind, made clear now that she was outside, her hair being tossed lackadaisically in the breeze. The shadows shifting were probably because it was a cloudy night, and every now and then, one would cover the moon, covering everything in a dark coat. Things were so much more fresh outside, and every second the wind blew against her skin, she felt her fears start to wash away.

'Face your fear, eh…'

Before she could speak, the tree nearby gave a rather intense shake. Momo felt her heart jump to her throat, and she shared a glance with Todoroki. He wasted no time walking towards the base of the tree, his left hand covered in flames. Just as he raised the impromptu torch, the tree shook again, and in a flurry of leaves, a large owl shot out of the top and flew away.

"An owl…" Momo breathed in relief.

Todoroki extinguished the flames, turning around to face her. He'd finished off the last of his broccoli and had his hands stuffed in his pajama pockets. He didn't say anything, but the light grin on his face spoke volumes. How he managed to look dignified in loose, stripy pajama pants was beyond her. She grinned back and then sat down with a hefty sigh.

"Ahh I'm so lame," she said, leaning back on her arms. "What kind of hero is afraid of the dark?"

He walked towards her, and sat down cross-legged on the grass adjacent to her. "The kind with an overactive imagination," Todoroki said simply. She smiled appreciatively, grateful at him for not poking fun at her.

"Or the kind with exceptional intelligence?" she asked.

"Don't push it."

She smothered a giggle and stared into the bushes, a peaceful silence falling over them. It was the sort of atmosphere she had grown accustomed to when with him. Todoroki brought to her life a sense of calm she didn't know was possible; where words mattered, and actions built respect – just as she liked it. Momo preferred it to the wild, hyperactive society heroism tended to bring. That wasn't to say she hated how a hero's life worked – she had chosen it after all. But times like these, where they could just sit quietly as the world sped past; she treasured them.

"I get it," Momo said finally. "Why you like the night so much. It's so…calm."

Todoroki looked at her for a moment. Then, as if deciding on something, he swiveled around to fully face her. "It's easy to get swept away. Yet as a hero, you can't leave yourself vulnerable, ever."

She sighed at his intensity. "I'm agreeing with you. Just take the compliment."

Todoroki glared lightly at her. "It was a segway; close your eyes."

"Excuse me?" she asked, blinking at the sudden request.

"Sensory training," he explained, slightly impatiently. Momo continued staring at him, still rather dazed, realizing he was about to teach her something requiring actual concentration at two in the morning. That was another thing about him; he moved with the flow of his own mind. Todoroki gave her a flat look as she continued gaping at him. "You shouldn't stare a gift horse in the mouth."

She grinned. "You just called yourself a horse."

"Do you want to learn or not?"

"Alright, alright. Teach me, sensei," she said, sitting up straight and closed her eyes. She heard him give an exasperated sigh before speaking.

"Closing your eyes heightens the rest of your senses, and is especially effective at night."

His deep voice fit the calmness perfectly. Momo cracked her eyes open to look over at him. He had also closed his eyes, face slightly upturned, and once again, Momo found herself staring at him. With the gentle breeze stirring at his soft strands, eyelashes dark against his skin, features softened in a way that would have seemed relaxed if only his eyebrows weren't knit in their usual focused furrow, Todoroki seemed ... distant. Lost in thought.

Momo smirked. Payback time.

She slowly crept towards him, crawling on all fours, hand stretching out, ready to poke him in his previously discovered weak area (read: tickle spot). She was close; three feet. Then two-

"The thing about sensory training," his voice cut the silence. "Is that you're incredibly aware. It's almost as if you can see."

She blinked, and a cloud shifted, revealing the moon again. With a start, she realized he had cracked open a dark eye, focusing her with an unimpressed stare. Momo slumped back as he closed his eyes again, rather miffed at her failed attempt. After pouring out her frustration glaring at him, she huffed and closed her eyes as well. She'd get her chance.

A few minutes passed before she felt anything at all, and she felt the first of what it was Todoroki had been referring to. The key was switching off her thoughts. Once she'd done that, the world around her seemed much closer, and suddenly, much more alive. She heard everything; the rustles, the chirps, the breeze, the distant roar of an engine. Momo heard, and felt, her heart speed up in excitement, thrilled at the new broadening of sensations. She heard soft, barely audible little thumps on the grass, growing closer. Unable to douse her curiosity, she opened her right eye.

She froze in wonder as she watched a cat, probably the same one they'd seen before, walk right up to Todoroki, sniff him, then slink straight into his lap. The boy didn't move at all, eyes still closed, as if it was the most normal thing in the world and she glanced between his impassive features and the feline.

What was it with Todoroki and cats?

"In the beginning," his voice made her give a slight jerk. For trying to teach her the beauty of silence, he sure was keen on destroying it. "You can open your eyes to check where each sound originates. Eventually, they'll become so familiar you'll be able to picture everything in your head. That's the goal you want to achieve. Fighting in the dark no longer becomes a liability."

The cat had fixed her with a knowing, almost unimpressed look, looking perfectly at home curled up in Todoroki's lap. She stared right back at it, mulling over his words. This boy had 'becoming a hero' resonating down to his core. He always managed to turn everything into a lesson, or a stepping stone at improving. It was quite impressive, and just then, she felt even worse about ever having been so scared of a stupid movie.

The cat finally moved, fickle as it was, and soundlessly leapt up and was on its way, tail in the air, no acknowledgment given. Todoroki had finally opened his eyes, watching it go.

"Who taught you about this sensory way of fighting?" she asked. His eyes remained fixed on the cat.

"My father," He said. The way he said it had an air of finality to it, and she knew she couldn't press that subject.

*"Todoroki," she started, quietly, and now his eyes were on her. "Do you want to talk about it?" Momo avoided his gaze, staring intently at the blades of grass she was twirling around her finger. "The license exam, I mean…"

"There's nothing to talk about," he said that in a way that initially sounded flippant, but now she knew to be sincere, like he honestly didn't understand the question. He paused for a bit, and she bit her lip, that familiar feeling of self-doubt curling in her belly. "Although it helps I'm not the only one."

Momo looked up, watching a smirk pull at his lips, and a giggle bubbled to the surface. "Don't let Bakugo hear you say that."

He smiled, then looked down at his left hand. "I understand why things ended the way they did. It was entirely my fault, and I just wish…I had been wiser."

"I think it was just luck," she said, and he looked at her again, his thumb tracing over his left palm absentmindedly. "It's an unfortunate way exams tend to be. What's incredible though," and she grinned at him wryly here. "Is that not one person thinks less of you. In fact, it's like you're even more impressive than before."

He scrunched his brows at her. "I think you're trying to help, but it just sounds patronizing, coming from you."

She huffed. "Why did I even worry; you're not even slightly bothered."

"I told you there's nothing to talk about," he said.

**Momo sighed, falling over to lie down flat on the grass, staring up at the sky. The lights of the city obscured most of the stars, leaving only the brightest to twinkle like dwindling specks of glitter. She ran a hand through her hair, dragging out the awkward bump that was her ponytail, resting her head more comfortably on the grass.

"Do you believe in aliens, Todoroki?" she asked suddenly. When she glanced over at him, it was to see he had closed his eyes again.

"Yes," he answered immediately.

"Really?"

"Yes. I think half the supervillains are aliens."

"No," she argued, unable to control the need to correct the contradiction to her arsenal of knowledge. "Most of them are humans with obscure quirks. And the rest are the result of freak mutations. There's been no sightings of UFOs, and honestly, if you think about it-"

That's when she caught the grin on his face. He was joking. She flung her hairtie at him, aimed perfectly to hit him square in the forehead – had he not caught it. She huffed, crossed her arms over her chest, glaring up at the expanse of sky above. "You jerk, I'm being serious here."

"I thought being serious was my thing," His voice was light.

"Throw me back my tie so I can hit you again." Todoroki ignored her. She huffed, turning to look back up at the sky. "That's what I get for trying to have a conversation."

"Alright, then. What constellations can you see, right now?"

Momo felt herself grin. "If I'm not mistaken, that one there, above the tree should be Vega, tail of Lyra," she said, pointing, and he looked up at the sky as well. He shuffled closer to her, following the trail of her finger to the sky, though how he would be able to pinpoint exactly where she was indicating without being flushed up against her, she didn't know. Thoughts of him flushed up against her flustered her though, and she shoved the thoughts aside.

"And since it's late summer," Momo tried continuing as smoothly as she could. "That one, by the wall, is probably Altair, from Aquila. And that orange one…is that Scorpius or…?"

"Mars," Todoroki said, leaning back on his hands. "And Ursa Minor should be up there somewhere, but it's probably behind the clouds. Nevertheless, I'm impressed. One can't beat you when it comes to knowledge, can they?"

The look he gave her was open, almost like he took pride in her vast array of facts. Momo said nothing, warmth bubbling inside, graciously taking in the rare compliment.

For a while, they sat there - rather, he sat, and she lay there - looking at the pitifully few bright specks dotting the glowing, unnatural city sky, watching as clouds raced with each other across the murky expanse. The breeze trickled past, brushing up softly against their skin, and the delicate sounds of nature echoed, like a lullaby. The first drops of sleep began hazing her thoughts.

"'We have calcium in our bones, iron in our veins; carbon in our souls and nitrogen in our brains; 93 percent stardust with souls made of flames. We are all just stars that have people names.'" She chanted softly. "by Nikita Gill. 'We're made of star stuff.'"

Shouto looked over at her just in time to catch her yawn widely, reflexively hiding the lack of elegance behind her hand. Well-mannered as ever. Her eyes reopened, heavy with sleep, and the words 'show off' fell off the tip of his tongue as she blinked rapidly, trying to dislodge the yawn-tears. The lights and stars reflected off her dark irises, giving them a shimmer only the night could give, like some strange iridescent stone. And suddenly a distant memory arose, one he had forgotten he had.

"'We are stars wrapped in skin – the light you are looking for has always been within'," He whispered, eyes fixed on her, so softly it was almost to himself. But in the silence of the night, she heard it.

"Where's that from?" she asked curiously, smothering another yawn.

"I'm not sure…" he said quietly, looking up again, watching a cloud cross over slowly over the moon. He chewed over his words for a while, wondering whether or not to divulge the information. "…my mother used to say that. All the time."

His eyes then glazed over, memories of an easier time; of him and his mother, escaping to the roof after a particularly tough day, losing themselves in the stars of the night sky. He remembered her first saying those words when he'd said something about wishing he were a star, miles away from his father. He hadn't remembered the words his mother spoke to him then, being only 5 when she'd left. But his sister had, and he'd written it down, so many times that he'd learnt them by heart.

"Was she the one who taught you constellations?" Momo asked, her soft voice gently invading his thoughts.

"Yeah."

He thought he felt her gaze on him, but when he turned to look, her eyes were closed, face turned skywards, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on her pale skin.

"I loved space when I was little," she said, voice air-light. "It was all I would do. I was obsessed. I thought when I grew up, I'd make my own rocket and ride up there myself."

"You still could."

"I could. But priorities lie elsewhere now. Growing up is boring," she huffed out a smile. "What was your dream?"

Wide, awestruck eyes flashed through his mind; him running to the television whenever he heard that iconic laugh; images of him leaping around his room, careening an action figure through the air; always having to be peeled off of the screen and placed at a more vision-friendly distance, and always in the warmth and safety of his mother's lap.

"To be like All Might," he found himself admitting.

"All Might? Not like Endeavor?" Her question was innocent.

"No."

She looked at him, eyes magical and open once again, and he refused to meet her gaze. "…Your face doesn't tense up when you talk about your mother like it does with your father." The comment was unexpected, and for a moment, he was speechless. "Why don't you talk about her more?"

Right then, with the moon bright and the breeze cold, in the shadow of the night, with nobody as witness but the stars, Todoroki, for the first time ever, considered telling someone about his mother. For a split second, he considered telling her everything. Everything, not just the smallest details; of how big a part his mother was of who he'd become, how she was the source of any love he'd ever received.

How she'd burned him in a haze of pure, hateful insanity.

He said nothing though, and he said nothing for a very long time. His fingers gently tugged at a blade of grass. It was like she'd opened some strange Pandora's box and suddenly, just then... all he wanted to talk about was his mother.

"I don't talk about her because...she hasn't been home … not for a long time."

"…hm…" Yaoyorozu's response was too quiet and too distant, and when he looked over, it was to see her eyelids had fluttered closed, lashes ghosting her skin in an absolutely enchanting way, lips parted, as if she'd been about to say something; probably something quite nosy, knowing how miserable the control over her own curiosity was.

Long strands of dark hair had somehow lodged themselves into Yaoyorozu's mouth, ruffling with each breath, but not moving. Without thinking, he reached over and very carefully, so as to not touch her skin, unhooked them, flicking it so they fell behind her ear. But just before he could pull back, she turned into his touch, and her lips and the tip of her nose brushed across his fingertips.

Instantly, he pulled away, drawing in a sharp breath, as if scalded. Todoroki stared at her, hard, wondering if she had done that on purpose. But she remained still, features relaxed in a way he knew she would only allow if she were asleep. Todoroki closed his mouth shut and ran his hand (the one not still burning) over his face, stopping when it covered his mouth, lost deep in thought. The other one clenched tightly into a fist, trying in vain to suppress the tingling.

He remained like that for a very long time, moving only to pull his knees up, staring unseeingly at a distant spot, thinking only of soft skin and his mother's voice.

Rays of yellow and pink had begun streaking the sky when he finally decided to wake her.

Momo's eyes were sticky with sleep, and the back of her head hurt from being on hard ground for too long and she felt cold down to her marrow. As she tried desperately to open her eyes for longer than a second, she felt a light thud on her forehead. Momo managed to squint up, spotting the blurred outline of Todoroki, and dully realized he'd just flicked her hair-tie back at her.

"I think it's about time we go upstairs."

That's when she remembered everything; how she and Todoroki had stayed up all night, star gazing of all things, of how she'd fallen asleep, of how she had been afraid of her own bed. Momo sat up fully, and felt something fall off her shoulders. Looking down, she saw a blanket crumpled in her lap, and realized Todoroki must have brought it and covered her at some point.

Momo grabbed her ponytail and roughly tied her long, grass-ridden hair into a low, careless bun, and gathered up the blanket, clutching it to her chest as she tried standing up. She stumbled a bit as she straightened, but a strong grip on her upper arm steadied her.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "Thanks."

Todoroki didn't say anything, and silently helped her walk the first few steps before she regained her balance and continued on her own. Both of them headed back inside, the half-n-half hero sliding the glass door softly behind them.

It was a different world inside the building. Much warmer, for one. The darkness drowning the hallway just seemed calm now, like it was nature's attempt at helping everyone sleep. It seemed unreal to her that she had ever found this place scary, and her grip on the blanket tightened.

Todoroki walked passed her just then, and it hit her; he had spent the entire night, helping her get over her irrational, superficial fears. Time he could have spent doing literally anything else in the world; sleeping, for one. Yet he wasted it on her. Pure, unbridled gratitude filled her, spreading warmth everywhere, restoring the feeling back to her numb limbs. He looked up, feeling her gaze, and shot her a questioning look.

"Thank you, Todoroki," she said, worrying if her thick, sleepy voice was able to adequately convey what she felt.

He smiled at her, his sleep-ridden eyes shining with mirth, and as her eyebrows furrowed in question, he gently steered her by the shoulders to look into a wall mirror. He had been grinning at her appearance, leaves and grass poking out of her tangled web of hair every which way, but she couldn't concentrate enough to worry about her appearance just then.

Instead, she stared at Todoroki.

His reflection next to hers was hypnotizing. He was looking into her eyes over her shoulder, a gentle, relaxed and open expression on his face as he plucked a twig from her scalp, such an extreme rarity, she could hardly believe she was seeing it at all. She studied the way his crimson strands clashed beautifully with her midnight black, how he was barely a few centimeters taller, how he was so close that if she only took half a step back, she'd be able to lean her head against the crook of his neck.

It hit her how badly she wanted to take that half step back.

The young ice hero seemed to realize she wasn't reacting to his subliminal teasing, and his smile faltered.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Perhaps it was the way she said it, perhaps it was the look she gave, but Todoroki suddenly stepped back, closing his eyes, right hand ruffling his hair in embarrassment. "You need to stop thanking me," he mumbled, walking past her to the kitchen. "Just accept that if you're in need, I will help."

"My hero."

It just slipped out.

Immediately, she froze, all warmth fading from her limbs as quickly as it had come. Todoroki turned around, his patented look of shock flashing all over his face. Their eyes met, and almost instantly, they both looked away; him quickly walking over to put some dirty dishes he'd left out into the sink, her just rubbing her left arm nervously through the thin blanket, a furious blush coloring her cheeks.

"A-Ahm," she cleared her throat, face on fire. She wished her body would just pick a temperature and stick with it. "Anyway, we should probably turn in now..."

"Yeah."

"Goodnight, Todoroki."

"Goodnight, Yaoyorozu."

Momo walked as if in a trance, stepping into the elevator her mind still full of blue eyes and grey eyes and red hair and gentle smiles. All she could think of was him. How he had helped her when she hadn't asked for it. How he always helped her when she didn't ask for it. How he had stayed by her side all night. How he had looked at her, standing behind her, peering over her shoulder. She buried her nose in the blanket.

It smelled like grass.

She'd forgotten to give it back to him.

Momo blinked, realizing she had been so lost in thought that she hadn't bothered to push the button in the first place. The small number 5 lit up with a soothing glow as she pressed it.

Through the entirety of the ride up to the fifth floor, Momo experienced a flurry of uncontrolled changes. First, her heart seemed to not be able to slow down from its frenzied race, hammering against her rib cage like a frantic bird. Second, the flush had spread, deciding to creep down her neck, and up to her ears, giving her the uncomfortable idea that she must look like a demented crab, and her hold over the blanket only tightened. Time seemed to have slowed down, the numbers increasing at the world's slowest rate and her gaze remained adamantly fixed on the floor in front of her.

She was running on autopilot. As the doors chimed open, Momo stepped out onto the fifth floor landing and headed straight for her room. Her room was now alight with the dim glow of dawn, brighter than the kitchen downstairs had been, probably because her room was so high up. The curtains swayed gently in the calm breeze trickling through the window, and the soft coos of morning birds made their way in.

But Momo didn't notice any of that. She sat on the edge of her bed, head buried in the balled up blanket she'd forgotten to return.

It was not until morning properly came, when the curtains were bright with sunlight, and the distant noise of morning traffic echoed dimly in the horizon that she came to the only possible conclusion. The diagnosis to her sudden symptoms.

She was – in all likelihood – falling for Shoto Todoroki.