When Todoroki was a little boy, he would often find himself hiding in the laundry room.

As a child, he'd been foolish enough to believe that if he hid away, then his father wouldn't be able to find him. He was young at the time, using his mother's arguments with the man as cover like a coward and leaving her in his hands. The training was just far too painful, the nausea and pain just too much for his small frame to handle.

And so, he would hide, looking for places of solitude that his father wouldn't be able to find. His room was a poor choice, as he'd quickly learned from the times he'd hidden under his bed or in his closet. His siblings' rooms were also no-go's, for fear of his father's ire being turned on them. Under the table worked a couple of times, but not forever, so Todoroki learned that if he wanted to get away, even for a moment, he had to get creative.

And that was how he'd ended up in the laundry room, hiding in a cabinet just perfect for his height. It was a dark space, with strange noises and a funny smell, but if anything, the darkness comforted him, because no light meant no fire, and no fire meant no father.

On that note, during this small stage of successful evasion, Todoroki often found himself watching his sister or mother do the laundry. They'd been clean, shiny machines, with lots of buttons and switches, and they were far taller than Todoroki himself. Whenever Fuyumi was the one to come in with a basket just barely light enough for her to carry, she had to pull out a step stool in order to put the clothes in to be washed.

It had looked like arduous work, especially when he watched his older sister doing it, but it seemed like such a smaller burden to do chores than it was to train, and Todoroki had dreamed of having to do something so mundane over fighting his father. Another part of him had also wanted to reach out, to be helpful to his family and do the many tasks around the house that seemed to take up their time.

In the end, it was simple. Todoroki wanted to do chores.

It seemed so silly when said aloud, but the idea of doing such favors for his loved ones made something warm and funny fill his chest, a feeling that he'd only recently discovered and had since become obsessed with. Now, here in the dorms, he often found one of his friends assigned to do the laundry for all of the boys, but with many of his peers studying that day and laundry day tomorrow, he'd thought that he'd found the perfect opportunity to make himself useful.

With quick knocks, Todoroki waited anxiously outside of Iida's dorm room, rocking on his heels with a large basket held under his arm. With a click, his class's representative was before him, adjusting his glasses and a pencil behind his ear.

"Ah! Is there something I can do for you, Todoroki? Were you wanting to study?"

"Maybe later." Todoroki nodded. "I was wondering if you had any laundry that needed to get done."

Iida blinked. "Well, yes, of course, though I believe laundry day is tomorrow..." He looked down at the basket. "Did you want to go down together?"

"Actually," he said with a shimmer in his eyes. "I was wondering if I could do yours for you? I have Midoriya's here, too. If it's okay."

Iida adjusted his glasses again, chopping at him with a strange gleam in his eyes. "...Pardon me if I sound rude, but...do you know how the washer and dryer work?"

"The..." Todoroki blinked. "...Yes." he lied. He could only assume that he meant the laundry machines.

"I see. My apologies for assuming! That's very kind of you, Todoroki! As class representative, I must commend you for your work ethic and thoughtfulness!"

With that, Todoroki was given dirty clothes and sent on his way, a basket full of boxers and dreams in his arms. He had to fight down the skip in his step, a smile creeping across his face. He could already feel his child self's excitement at being able to do even the smallest favor for his dear friends. He had wanted to do the same for Uraraka and Asui, but both of them, for whatever reason, had strongly declined.

Oh well. Maybe he can figure out some other kind gesture for them. It's not like training completely takes up his time anymore, after all.

Slowly pushing through the door to the dorms' laundry room, left ajar by its last visitor, Todoroki used the basket to switch on the light. He was quickly met with a small space, much different than his laundry room at home. There were no cabinets for children to hide in, instead filled with shelves and surrounded by concrete walls rather than wooden. In the corner, shimmering under the light of the bulb above his head, the laundry machines stood idly by, waiting for the next person to require their services.

Todoroki huffed, eager. His whole life had been leading up to this moment.

Setting the basket on a shelf, he looked at the machines, a washer and dryer, Iida had said. On the shelves, there were different kinds of soaps and cleaning materials, while the machines were a litany of labels and buttons. Todoroki wasn't sure what they all meant, but he supposed there was no harm in learning on his own.

Popping the 'washer' open, he unceremoniously dumped the entire basket of clothes in, stuffing it down even as the pile fought back against him. It was a large pile of clothes, just teetering over the edge of the lid as he pushed it until it flattened out and stayed flattened. He glared at the pile, daring it to pop back out and face him like a hero. When it barely budged, he sighed in relief.

"Okay." he nodded to himself, eying the shelves of soap. There were bottles and jugs and boxes of all shapes and sizes, staring at him expectantly. Todoroki frowned deeply, weighing his options. He could easily ask a classmate for assistance, but it felt as if that would ruin the idea of him doing a favor for his beloved friends.

They meant a lot to him, so he supposed that because they were so important, then they should have access to the cleanest clothes that one could wear, and more soap would mean more clean, right?

With this in mind, he grabbed as many cleaning products as he could, dumping copious amounts of colorful, strong-smelling liquids into the washer and all over the clothes. The pile had started to rise again as he did so, forcing him to fight to shut the lid of the washer on the pile. With a huff, Todoroki observed the buttons, a slew of words meaning so many different things greeting him.

He just wanted to clean clothes. Why did it seem so complicated?

Pouting, he turned every dial as far as it could go and pressed every button that looked important. There were many colors and white as well in the pile, so he assumed that both options needed to be pressed in order to clean all of the clothes properly. Eventually, he found the 'on' button, and happily started the washer.

All seemed well for the first few minutes. Todoroki had been quite proud of his handiwork, reaching over to pat himself on the back like what people said to do when you did a good job. Even though the workload wasn't that extreme at all, Todoroki's head still felt oddly full, his eyelids heavy as he yawned. Shrugging, he decided that he'd wait for the laundry to be done here and take a short nap. He nodded off quite quickly, considering.

He woke up to bubbles.

Bakugou was always prepared for a lot of things, because you had to be if you expected to ever make it as a pro hero. Usually, this included the shenanigans of the idiots he now lived with.

And yet, somehow, he was still caught off-guard.

Ever since he was little, he often found himself taking care of himself. His mother had started him on housework at a young age, so the thought of someone doing his work for him made him feel sick to his stomach. He was an independent child, and honestly, he preferred it that way.

And that included laundry. It wasn't surprising to find Bakugou with his own basket the day before laundry day doing his own clothes in the laundry room. He wasn't sure whose job it was that particular week, but it ultimately didn't matter to him. None of his idiot classmates were laying their grubby hands on his boxers, thanks.

Now, full basket under his arm, he'd found the walk to the laundry room disconcertingly quiet. Most of his idiot classmates were either in their dorm rooms studying or off somewhere else fucking around, and for whatever reason, it had him on edge.

Maybe it was because of this that he wasn't that startled by Icyhot flying out of the laundry room with a look of death in his eyes.

It was almost comical, the way he slammed the door behind him, pressing his back against it and fighting to catch his breath as if he'd just run a mile full sprint without stopping. His wild eyes were distant, haunted, as he stared off at nothing, right through the wall opposite to him as if it wasn't even there. Inside the laundry room, the sound of the washer running could be heard clear as day.

Bakugou was suddenly acutely aware of a certain level of hypersensitivity.

He cleared his throat, and he'd never seen Todoroki jump so high, almost like a startled cat. "The fuck are you doing, Halfie?"

"Bakugou." he greeted in his normal dead tone, even as he leaned against the door so awkwardly that a blind person would see his discomfort. "Wonderful weather we're having."

The deadpan glare Bakugou shot at him could have set his left side off easily. "The hell did you do?"

"Nothing." he responded a little too quickly, holding his body against the laundry room door. "How are you?"

"Move, dickhead. You're hiding something and I have laundry to do."

"What do you mean?"

With a frustrated growl, Bakugou attempted to push Todoroki out of the way. For his part, Todoroki fought valiantly, grabbing at the door like a lifeline and holding on for dear life. Bakugou lost count of the cuss words that flew out of his mouth, but eventually, with one mighty heave, he practically threw Todoroki out of his way, much to the other's horror. With a little more ferocity than necessary, the ash blonde slammed the door open.

He was met with bubbles.

The entire room was filled ankle-deep with suds, the washer bouncing up and down as it threw up bubbles like Uraraka losing her lunch from overusing her quirk for the nth time. The lid was jumping dangerously, spewing more suds as if it was demons escaping the seven circles of hell. Flicking on the light, it seemed as if the bubbles were all different colors, a rainbow of problems spilled all over the floor like a Jackson Pollock painting.

Bakugou stared at the mess for a long moment, almost disbelieving. "What...did you do?"

"I don't know." Bakugou had never heard Todoroki sound so panicked before. "I just wanted to do something nice for Midoriya and Iida and this happened."

"Okay, hold the fuck up." Bakugou snapped, looking at the array of soap bottles, all left open. "You used fucking dish soap?"

"Is that what it is?"

"Wha- IT SAYS IT ON THE TIN!" Bakugou shouted. "Floor cleaner, hand soap, everything under the fucking sun, what the shit!"

"Oh."

Bakugou rushed to turn the washer off, vibrating and ready to blow. Opening the lid, he was horrified by the whites and colors popping out of the machine ready to burst. "YOU PUT IN THE WHITES WITH COLORS!?"

"Is that bad?"

"Yes, it's bad! The colors will bleed everywhere and stain the whites!"

"C... Clothes bleed?"

He didn't even dignify that with a response. "You do multiple loads for a reason, moron! You overfilled the washer and- ARGH, this is a fucking mess! You really are stupid!"

Todoroki's frown deepened, staring at the mess he'd made with defeat written all over his face. It was an odd look for him, but Bakugou did his best to ignore it as he pulled out his phone and dialed Aizawa's number. The man probably had a heart attack seeing his contact pop up out of nowhere, but if you asked Bakugou, this was an emergency.

A team arrived shortly after to clean the mess. The commotion was quick to draw the attention of other classmates, including Deku and Four Eyes. Todoroki was extremely apologetic, going so far as to fall into a dogeza at their feet. The two were flustered, to say the least, far less angry about the whole debacle than they should be and forgiving him instantly, even though they had to throw their clothes out as a result of the rough treatment. While some classmates were more understanding and kind, others were quick to poke fun at the situation.

And Todoroki was quiet for the rest of the day, forlorn and dismayed. The fucker was too scared to go near the couch in fear of somehow ruining it, let alone people's clothing. He walked on carpet like he was walking on eggshells, and it took everything in his power not to hide out in his dorm room for the rest of his life as if he was cursed.

It was...painful.

Grabbing a glass of water, Bakugou trudged through the kitchen in hopes of dispersing the headache this whole fiasco had given him. He could hear voices in the common room, but personally, he couldn't have cared less what they were talking about. Unfortunately for him, his brain decided otherwise, tuning into Aizawa's voice speaking sternly.

"You do understand the mess you created, right?" Aizawa questioned.

Peering into the common room, Bakugou could see Half n' Half standing before their homeroom teacher, head bowed. He nodded solemnly.

"May I ask what prompted this?" Aizawa huffed.

Todoroki was quiet for a long moment, wringing his hands in an oddly Deku-like manner. "I..." he started. "I wanted to be useful."

"Useful?"

He nodded. "I never was able to help with chores growing up because of my training. I wanted to be useful and help out the way I couldn't as a child. I didn't realize how difficult it would be."

The awkward silence stretched on, Aizawa rubbing his face tiredly with a long-suffering sigh. Todoroki stood vigilantly, head low and shoulders slumped, and it was only here that he actually seemed like the kid he was, confused and hurt after an attempted good deed blew up in his face.

It was sad, really.

"Okay." Aizawa nodded. "Next time, please ask someone to help or supervise you. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you're banned from entering the laundry room."

Todoroki deflated at that, but nodded along. Carding a hand through his raven hair, Aizawa stared up at the ceiling with a look as if he was begging for death and turned on his heel, marching out the door and leaving the dual quirk user to wallow in his own misery.

Bakugou had no other words for it. It was just sad, seeing the idiot all mopey like that, hands deep in his pockets as he stared down at his feet. Bakugou couldn't see his face, but the slump in his shoulders was telltale. He wouldn't be surprised if Todoroki turned to look at him and he was greeted with the most depressed frown he'd ever seen in his life.

And it was all over wanting to do some fucking chores. Most people would be ecstatic over not having to do their laundry, but he supposed that Halfie had always been a weirdo.

It was then that a thought struck him.

He glanced at the sink behind him warily. It would be a stupid thing to do, if Todoroki was as stupid and accident-prone as he thought, but at the same time, if the moron was gonna stay this depressed for however long, then it would be pointless to fight him at full power with him being distracted over something so silly.

And that would be his argument for what he did next. It was pointless to beat his classmates into the ground if they weren't at their best.

"Oi, Half n' Half." Todoroki looked over at him, and yep, there was that depressed frown. His aura alone was enough to make any weak-willed empath cry. "We're washing the dishes. Get in here."

Todoroki's expression instantly shifted to one of shock, and the moment his words registered, he perked up, a spark lighting up his eyes like a fireworks display. "Really?"

"Don't make me take it back, stupid."

Todoroki nodded quickly, speed walking into the kitchen as Bakugou collected the dirty dishes left behind by his disgusting classmates. He flicked the water on and pulled out a plate and dish soap. "This...is dish soap. It's for dishes."

"I see." Todoroki hummed, as if he was learning something revolutionary.

"You scrub the plate like this." he explained, pulling out a sponge and cleaning the dish. "Until it's fucking glistening, you got it?"

"Yes."

"You better." he barked, stepping to the side. "Now, I'm gonna be drying and stacking said dishes and if I find a single crumb or crack on anything you hand me, I'm kicking you out, clear?"

"As crystal."

Bakugou couldn't say exactly how long they spent washing the class's dishes, but Todoroki was fucking thorough. He took Bakugou's threat to heart and worked diligently on every little piece of cutlery that he found. Bakugou often found himself screaming orders when Todoroki was his clueless self and needed to be pointed in the right direction, but every squeaky clean spoon or cup he handed off put stars in his eyes.

It was odd. It was almost as if all he needed was clear instruction.

"Thank you." Todoroki blurted sometime into washing. They'd taken care of over half of the week's dishes and Bakugou nearly dropped the mug he was drying in surprise.

"Hah!?" he snapped. "You wanna fight, asshole!?"

Icyhot only hummed, his eyes sparkling with delight even as his face remained its normal neutral self. Anyone else and they might have been humming some shitty pop song by this point.

And it was fine, because even as they finished the dishes with no casualties, all sparkling in the afternoon sun, Todoroki had that dumb look on his face, that sparkle and almost-smile, that made something deep in his cold-dead heart feel warm.

He supposed he'd made this bed.

"Bakugou, could you teach me how to use a vacuum?"

He may as well lie in it.

"Sure, Halfie. Sure."