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Shouto turns his phone off.
He doesn't think about the implications of turning his mobile off, leaving it dead in his pocket as he storms away from the clinic, because he knows if he does, he'll only end up turning it back on.
He considers going home, but eventually decides against it. He's seen too much of grey walls, and as much as they used to be a comfort – not too bright that it makes him dizzy to look at – now they're just stifling.
Where to go then?
Shouto isn't sure. There's not really anything he can do; Midoriya had been right about that at least, his existence is a lonely one, and it shows because there's no one he can phone to talk to.
Well… he could phone Yaoyorozu, but they're not… their relationship isn't one based on reassuring one another. They're friends, in the sense where they're both workaholics, lives consumed with work.
Even if she'd be nice enough to offer support, Shouto doesn't feel comfortable asking for it.
Fine then, Shouto's perfectly fine without people. He's not talked about his problems before, so he's not going to start now. An argument with his doctor of all people isn't going to change that.
His family estate for more sparring seems less than ideal, so he scratches that thought from his head. Plus, he's already done enough hours of sparring this week, as per Endeavour's requirements.
Fighting, he thinks, is off the table. At least for today. He'll have to go back tomorrow, ensure he's keeping up with the work load that has been placed upon him. The thought that he should just go back to work, pick up the paperwork he'd left unfinished when first beginning his sick leave, is quickly disregarded as well. That would mean facing Yaoyorozu, and somehow, he feels like she'll let Midoriya know.
"It's for your own sake," he imagines her saying, and it's incomprehensible just how betrayed he feels by the version of her in his own mind. Because, there had been hints, he must have left some behind for her to pick up on, ways he's interacted with his father in the past and…
"Goddammit," Shouto mutters to himself, hand wrapping around his hair, pulling just enough that it stings, but not enough that he'll tear it out. "That man is insufferable."
He walks, not knowing where he's going, each step lacking purpose. It's not fair, he thinks, because he is sore, and in pain and all he's done is do what people ask of him and yet it is never enough.
"I…" Shouto continues, and if people glance at him twice it's because he's a pro hero and not because he's talking to himself under his breath. "I give up."
He glances around, and when he's certain there's no one around to hear – no civilians, or heroes, or doctors, or even Endeavour, he shouts it out, "do you hear me? I give up."
Later, when he returns to his apartment, ready to just cease existing for the night, Yaoyorozu is sat outside his door. She's sleeping – it's late by the time he gets home, although without a phone it's hard to decipher the time. From the way people had been moving in and out of bars on their way home from work, festive, he'd rate the time between midnight and two a.m.
For a moment, Shouto considers turning around, leaving this confrontation before it can begin, but then he sees the smallest outline of a shiver. He curses Yaoyorozu under his breath, bites into his cheek and steps forward – just sitting outside despite the cold… she's nothing short of an idiot.
Shouto sighs, takes a moment to breath, before making his way towards his door.
Yaoyorozu opens her eyes as he makes his way nearer, her gazes flickers upwards, as if surveying for any danger. It's a common thing, he supposes, with heroes, they get so used with fighting villains, that it's ingrained into them to always be on guard.
"Todoroki," she says, as she rubs at her eyes, pulling herself up to her feet. She doesn't say anything more, watches him for any sign of emotion. Shouto pulls his key from his pocket, unlocks the door and pushes it open.
He glances at Yaoyorozu, breathes out a sigh and says, "I've got tea or coffee, which would you prefer."
It's the closest thing to an invitation into the apartment as she's going to get, and Yaoyorozu knows it. Shouto walks in, leaves the door for her to come in, before placing the spare set of slippers on the floor for her, swapping into his own.
Then, he heads into his kitchen.
Yaoyorozu follows behind him, at a slower pace, as if she's taking in the general gloom to the entire apartment. Shouto lets her, says 'okay' when she asks for tea, filling his kettle and putting on the stove to boil.
He grabs the tea from the cupboard, grabs two cups and generally tries to avoid eye contact for as long as possible until finally Yaoyorozu states the reason for her visit.
"You weren't answering your calls." Yaoyorozu says at last, when he turns to her, passing her some tea. "Which isn't like you, so I… thought I'd check in on you."
"My phone must be dead," Shouto says, plucking it from his pocket and placing it on the side. It's easier to go with that story, than to admit he'd turned it off following an argument with Midoriya. "Sorry to worry you."
He picks up his own cup, stares at the tea, before sitting opposite Yaoyorozu at his kitchen table. He takes a sip, scalds his tongue in an attempt not to be the first one to break the silence.
Yaoyorozu remains silent, looks around his kitchen. She's always been stubborn, although her stubbornness has never been used on him.
He breaks the silence, "what were you calling for? Something work related?"
"No," Yaoyorozu shakes her head, "it's not always work related with us you know… Or I thought it wasn't, but I haven't heard from you since you've been off. I've been worried about you, you know?"
Shouto glances down at his tea so that he doesn't need to look at her, her lips tighten, not quite a frown, but certainly not pleased either.
"I'm sorry," Shouto says, mainly because he'd had the previous impression – that it is always work related between them, that they're friends due to circumstances, working together so often, and not because… not because Yaoyorozu had thought him worthy of being her friend. "I should have kept you in the know."
Yaoyorozu offers him a nod. She takes a sip of her own tea, cups her hands around it and just breathes, taking a moment to sort through her thoughts. She doesn't smile, but she appears calmer now.
"It's alright," she says. "So… have you got any idea when you'll be back? Has Midoriya given you a rough estimate?"
Shouto pauses, shakes his head. "Not really, after my next blood tests I suppose."
Blood tests that should have been today, would have brought him closer to going back to day-to-day life if he hadn't lashed out and gotten angry. And yet, he'd walked out before the tests could be taken, all because he couldn't keep himself calm.
Instead of remaining calm, he'd reacted in the same explosive way he'd expect his father would… Shouto feels a wave of self-hatred surge through him at the thought of being anything like him.
"Oh," Yaoyorozu says, "well, hopefully it's soon. I've missed having you around."
She smiles then, and Shouto grimaces back, lifting his cup up and sipping at his own. It's not too hot – not for him anyway – and after a moment of sipping, he swallows a gulp down, trying not to think about what that means.
He feels faintly guilty, because his mind hadn't even focused on Yaoyorozu, even though they're supposed to be friends.
"Yeah." Shouto says, "I hope so too."
They're quiet then, for a few more moments, before Yaoyorozu's gaze flickers again around his kitchen, summing up the room. The silence stretches out, and then, at last she says, "your apartment is… not what I was expecting."
Shouto grimaces. "You mean it's dull."
"No, no, I didn't mean-"
"It's alright." Shouto says, glances down at his cup. The tea ripples as he moves tilts his cup back and forth – a gentle movement, but creating extreme motion for the liquid inside. It almost reminds him of Midoriya, gentle words at first creating such a vivid result. "I admit it's bland."
"Maybe a few photographs would liven it up," Yaoyorozu states, and she offers him a smile as she glances around. "It's weird that you haven't got any up."
Shouto's grimace falters, and he glances away.
He doesn't actually have any photographs, hasn't printed any, or kept any hidden away in the bottom of his cupboard. There has never been the need for them, not when there had been nothing to record.
He might have a few back in his childhood room, but they're not pictures he likes to look at, just bitter memories that he'd rather avoid remembering. He doesn't think he owns any photographs, actually, that he'd deem happy enough to put up – well… except maybe for one, but even then, it'd be…
Shouto doesn't feel like he has the right to display that photograph anywhere inside his house.
"…I don't have any to put up." Shouto admits.
Yaoyorozu blinks. "Not even of your family, you've got siblings, right?"
He does. And he loves his siblings, but they've… they've found some sort of escape from the family, in some way or another, and Shouto is the one who's being pressured into being the best hero.
"We're not… close." He says, and it stings to say, because it's clue.
For a minute, there is silence. Yaoyorozu's expression shifts multiple times, between uncertainty, nervousness and confusion. And then, "…Todoroki… what exactly is your family relationship like…?"
The question catches him off guard.
Glancing at Yaoyorozu, he comes to see that she'd meant for it to. He can't look her in the eyes, and she… It's almost as this is not just a spur of the moment question.
"I've known it's not the best relationship," she continues, and her voice is calm, steady. "But I thought if I let you tell me in your own time, it'd be easier on you but… but it's been years Todoroki, and… and I know you haven't had anyone to talk to."
Shouto glances at her now, defensive but not angry.
"No," Yaoyorozu says, "don't give me that look… See, I didn't notice it until you went on sick leave, but… but you never came in for the psychologist sessions. And I started recalling how I'd never seen you go to one, even though they're mandatory and – and you hadn't gone to the doctor either."
"Yaoyorozu…"
"And… And I just, Todoroki I'm worried about you." She hefts out a deep breath, finally catching his eye. "We've been friends for years, and you've offered me an ear whenever I've had worries, but… but you've never let me do the same, and I'm worried about the long-term impacts keeping everything bottled up will do to you."
Shouto bites his tongue.
"It's…" he breaks eye contact. "I-It's complicated, I guess."
Yaoyorozu sighs, "I was expecting you to say something like that."
The words feel almost like a slap, cold and icy against his skin. They shouldn't be, but the idea that she's placed expectations onto him makes him feel slightly… Shouto shakes the thoughts away.
Maybe it would be better if he just shared something with her. He's been keeping quiet for years that it might just be better if he finally talks about it.
He swallows another gulp of tea, places the cup back onto the table as if it's about to shatter at any moment.
"My relationship with my parents…" Shouto heaves his shoulders, tries not to slump at the memory of the story he's about to tell. He readies himself anyway. "Well… I guess I could summarise it up with one story."
Yaoyorozu falls quiet, blinks across at him. Clearly, she'd not been expecting any response to the question. Or at least, not one that hadn't involved the question being side tracked.
"Did I ever tell you how I got this scar?" And he points now, to the scar marring the left side of his face, over his eye.
"…I think so," Yaoyorozu is quiet, "you told me it was an accident, you pulled something off the stove as a child."
"That was a lie." Shouto says, and he glances away, decides that he doesn't want to see Yaoyorozu's expression when she realises that he's been lying to her for years. No matter his reason, he knows it doesn't suffice the deceit. "It didn't happen like that."
She remains quiet, it urges him to continue.
"Endeavour… has wanted me to fulfil a certain goal ever since I was born… and well, he'd been quite forceful when I was younger. My mother did what she could to protect my siblings and I but… living in the same house with him wasn't healthy, and she couldn't handle it."
He glances up at Yaoyorozu. She's stilled, waiting for him to continue.
"And well… my left side. It… It only ever reminded her of my father, and one day she couldn't take the cope with that anymore."
Yaoyorozu's eyes widen. She mouths Shouto's name, but no words come out.
"So, she got the kettle, and my scar is the result. I've not seen her since."
He stands now, effectively cutting any questions Yaoyorozu might ask him short. He grabs his cup, and Yaoyorozu's, since it's empty, and he places them in the sink.
"Todoroki-"
"You asked my relationship," Shouto continues. "I guess it can be summed up with the fact that I hate my father, and my mother hates me… I'm going to bed, if you want, the couch is yours."
"Thank you," Yaoyorozu whispers, and it takes a moment to realise she means sharing, rather than a place to stay now that the subway's closed for the evening.
Shouto nods, brings out a blanket for her, and whispers, "you're welcome."
By the time he wakes the next morning, Yaoyorozu is gone.
Shouto feels almost glad, because they won't have to figure out how to interact with one another after the… sharing session, for the evening before. She leaves a note though, something Shouto waits to read until he's woken up a little bit more.
He waits for coffee to boil, cooks some rice and mixes two eggs into it, before sitting down at his table and finally looking at the note.
Todoroki – thanks for letting me stay the night, and for opening up. Charge your phone next time, okay?
And… I know it's not my place to say – but what happened with your scars happened when you were five, right? I don't think people can hold on to hate like that for twenty years.
-Momo
Shouto reads the note once, twice. He keeps rereading it as he eats his breakfast, until he's stood, ready to wash up and do something with his day. He's got a faint idea of what he should do, an idea brought on by Yaoyorozu, although he's hesitant.
Eventually, he nods his head.
He turns his phone back on, skims over missed calls – two from his father, multiple from Yaoyorozu, and one from Midoriya's clinic. He doesn't answer them, not now, and instead, he grabs his jacket, and locks his apartment door behind him.
Shouto steps through mechanical doors, walks up to the secretary and offers his name. Then, he makes his way towards the room, nervousness constricting around him as he makes his way forward.
He stops outside of the room labelled, Todoroki.
Like he'd told Yaoyorozu – he has not seen his mother in years. Unlike his siblings, who have all visited at one point or another, Shouto hasn't even set foot in the hospital before today. He's not sure whether the need to avoid her was born of his desire to keep his mother from hurting at the sight of him, or cowardice.
He thinks it's probably both.
Shouto's been trying for years not to grow into his father. He's refused to fight with his fire, and he probably will as his career continues, mainly because he doesn't want the recognition that comes with it. And… yet, despite all of the hatred he harbours for Endeavour, he's not tried to worm his way out of the man's plan.
Shouto feels almost like it's necessary to speak to the woman who reached her breaking point and broke past it.
He wants to know whether he'll survive it, when he passes his.
After a second, Shouto pushes open the door, closes it behind him. And he stares at the woman sat looking out the window, white hair curling at the ends. She's calm here, a contrast to the woman who'd raised him, each memory of her tainted with tears.
"…Hi mum."
She turns, glances across to him. And for a moment, something flashes across her face – an emotion he doesn't know her well enough to decipher. Then, her expression settles into the smallest half-smile.
"Shouto," his mother whispers, and it's hesitant, filled with unsaid words and emotions she, like Shouto himself, has probably tried to supress. Shouto tries to smile back at her in response, but he can't meet her eyes, and a grimace doesn't seem good enough so he lets his lips tighten.
"May I?" He asks, pointing towards the seat beside her. So far, he's been standing against the door, not feeling brave enough to take another step inside. His mother nods, which eases some of the unease that's wrapping around him.
"Look at you," his mother whispers, when he takes a step forward, "you're all grown up."
Shouto sits.
Shouto avoids sparring the next day.
And then the next.
He also makes sure to let Endeavour's phone calls go through to voice mail. He's not sure what he's going to do about the man, purely because he's been working for the man all his life, and there's nothing he can really do now to change that fact without facing repercussions.
Midoriya doesn't phone, which is probably a good thing, because Shouto doesn't know what he'd say to the doctor following their argument.
Shortly after visiting his mother, he visits his siblings. It's difficult talking to them, with the weight of their father pulling them down, but Shouto thinks it might be a start – if he can brave his mother, then his siblings he decides, won't be impossible to talk to either.
He keeps trying to make a small amount of leeway with his family as his sick leave grows more and more extended, until finally, it's a Tuesday afternoon, three o'clock in the afternoon.
It's an odd time for her to call, seeing as it's work hours, but he answers the call regardless.
"Hello?"
"Todoroki," Yaoyorozu doesn't even greet him, but he doesn't mind. One thing he likes about her, is how she gets straight to the point. She lets out a slightly jumpy laugh, something that puts Shouto on guard. "I just quit the agency."
Shouto blinks. People don't just quit the best agency in Japan.
"What?"
"I've been thinking it over since I visited," Yaoyorozu continues, and yes, she sounds very odd, unlike herself. "And I couldn't… I'm not able to work for Endeavour, not now that I know the kind of man he is. So I finally handed my resignation in today."
Shouto pales from where he's standing in the middle of the street. He stops walking, practically struggling to find the words.
"He'll make it so no other agency will take you," Shouto says, and he'd… God, when he'd told her about Endeavour, he'd not done so with the idea that she'd quit her job over it. Shouto had just wanted her to know, for someone to know.
"Good," Yaoyorozu says, and there's a determination in her voice now, a calm steel that he's not heard before. "Because I'm not going to another agency, I'm starting my own."
There are… so many implications to that. Shouto doesn't even know how to begin.
"That's… impossible, you need more than just you to run an agency-"
She clicks her tongue, hums approval. Yaoyorozu says, "I know. But I also know, that as much as Uravity enjoys working for Gunhead, she wants to move to a new agency. Same with some of our other classmates from U.A."
Shouto bites his tongue. "…Good luck, I suppose."
There's a sigh on the other side of the phone, something akin to exasperation – it's spreading. First Midoriya, not Yaoyorozu, will it ever end? – and then:
"I want you to come to." She doesn't give him time to refuse. "You said Endeavour's always placed goals on you right? Well… I think staying at his agency only means fulfilling his. It's time to break away and place your own."
Shouto hesitates. "I don't-"
"Todoroki," Yaoyorozu cuts in, again, "I'm not asking for you to come and work for me. I'm asking for you to be my partner in this agency. You'll get to be a hero on your own terms. No one else's."
He's quiet, and Shouto knows that she's giving him the time to think it through. She probably doesn't want him to come to a decision this quickly, but well… this is something that would be an escape. He's set to inherit Endeavour's agency when his father retires, and yet – it's a legacy Shouto doesn't want.
An agency he doesn't want.
Yet, starting his own, with Yaoyorozu backing him up… It seems like something he'd like to do. And maybe he wouldn't have any set goals that he wants to achieve, but it'd be a place where he could find some in his own time.
"You don't have to decide today-"
"Okay." Shouto interrupts this time. And after a moment, slightly shocked at his own response, he repeats it. "Okay, let's start an agency."
"Great," Yaoyorozu says, and from the crackling of the speakers, it's most likely she nods to herself as she says it. "This is great, we'll have to look into finding a building to operate from, and figure out some more details before we can give word to the others, but we should be fine… We'll have to meet up to hash out the details, okay?"
Shouto hums his agreement.
"And oh-" Yaoyorozu says as if it's only just creeped into her mind, "you'll need to get cleared for work again before we can go pro. So… get better soon, okay?"
"I will," Shouto says, before they both say their goodbyes.
It's the push that spurs him to actually phone up the clinic again, something he'd been tiptoeing about, purely because he doesn't want to deal with the confrontation. For someone who makes a living confronting villains, he doesn't want to fight with Midoriya.
From the moment Shouto sets foot back in the clinic, an awkward tension wraps around him and Midoriya. He decides that he wants to erase it as quickly as he can, offers an apology for storming out when the doctor had only been worried about his health.
"Don't apologise," Midoriya says, and he tilts his head, offers a tight smile as Shouto rolls up his sleeve, grabbing a needle and some vials from his cupboard. "It was mostly my fault. I shouldn't have gotten angry at you, I'm sorry."
And like that, the tension is gone.
Midoriya glances at his arm as he tightens the tourniquet, a small smile on his face when he realises that he's not received any more bruises from sparring.
"It's alright," Shouto says, and offers him a smile of his own. Then, he glances down, watches as Midoriya draws blood into a vial.
He draws a second vial, places them both on his desk before reaching for a cotton swab on his desk. Midoriya presses the swab against the crook of Shouto's elbows, fingers lingering on his skin as he does, before he pulls medical tape from his pocket, taping the swab down to stem any blood flow.
Midoriya is silent. He presses his lips into a thin line, turns back to apply the correct labels to the vials of blood, before placing them with other vials from other patients. When he turns back, his smile is gone, and he's only serious.
"I'm transferring your care to another doctor in this clinic," he says, after a second of hesitation. Shouto feels himself stop, frowns at the words.
"What?"
"I… Todoroki, I cannot be your doctor," and he looks upset about the decision. Unwavering, but still upset. "I… I can't offer you the professionalism a doctor should, so I'm transferring your care to Amano, a doctor within this clinic."
It… doesn't make sense.
"Is this about the argument?" Shouto asks. And he's confused, because this man practically volunteered to become his doctor, nothing about him has been very professional from the very beginning, and… and Shouto likes that about him.
"Not just the argument." Midoriya says. "Although… that made me realise it. I've impeded on your work place, I made you meals when you were ill. Doctors don't do that for their patients, and it's a degree of professionalism I've failed to give you."
Shouto likes that about him.
"I don't understand," Shouto says, because frankly, he doesn't. "Aren't you Bakugou's doctor? And yet, you must lack some professionalism with him, seeing as he's your friend too."
"Kacchan… we're childhood friends that didn't manage to extend that relationship to later life." Midoriya glances away, "there is no lack of professionalism, with him as my patient."
"I see." Shouto says, although he doesn't. It must show on his expression, because Midoriya's expression falters, grows slightly worried, with a pale tinge to his skin. Now, the doctor turns to look at him, gaze meeting Shouto's.
"Todoroki, I'm lacking professionalism because… I see you more as a friend than as a patient. And it means I cannot be impartial in your care, or with the decisions you make regarding your own health." He clasps his hands together, squeezes them.
His hands go white.
Shouto tries not to feel disappointed.
"I can't offer you professional care anymore," Midoriya says, "but I can offer you my friendship."
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