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If you asked Shouto Todoroki when he realized he loved Momo Yaoyorozu, he'd most likely rattle off the date he asked her to be his girlfriend- a sunny afternoon in March when out on a picnic date. He was as cool as a cucumber and she immediately accepted.
But, in perfect honesty, Shouto fell in love with Momo on a rainy night in December when the girl was running a fever; it was very possibly the most terrifying thing in the world to him.
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He'd planned everything out. Shouto's analytical behaviors flourished as he briefly reviewed the mental checklist he had already reviewed twice. He would rather be safe than sorry. Today was the day when he would ask the female vice president and fellow classmate to go out on a date.
He walked to the girl’s dorms at eight o’clock at night, the December weather making the sky pitch black and the wind biting.
Shouto felt ill.
They got along well enough, but the boy hadn't the faintest idea if she liked him or not. Their interactions were frequent enough, from group projects to the weekly 1-A movie nights (Momo continuously objected to placing the movie night in the middle of the week because "we all need to study during the week and we really shouldn't watch shows on school weeks" and ah yes, another admirable quality of Yaoyorozu’s. Her dedication to her studies).
Oh no, he was smitten.
Admittedly, Shouto had never been in love; the feeling he was currently experiencing could easily be a viral stomach flu. He refused to rule this option out. He was so anxious that at one point, he found himself carrying a wastebasket about his dormitory, lest he vomit on the carpets; Midoriya made a face at him but asked no questions and patted him on the back because Midoriya is fantastic like that.
A few minutes later, Shouto found himself standing at Momo's dormitory door, knocking once, cursing, and then knocking quietly and repeatedly, all the while hating himself. She's probably training, or studying, or doing something really important and she’ll be annoyed because a boy was banging on her door and really, just get out now before she comes-
The door swung open to a frazzled Momo. The girl was tall, barely beating Shouto's height of five feet and eight inches -just you wait, I will get another growth spurt- but she seemed to be infinitesimal, shrinking into herself and wrapping her arms around her. Her usually ponytailed raven hair was laying limply on her shoulders, looking tangled and greasy. Her face was shockingly pale with decided matching red splotches on her cheeks. The girl was wrapped up haphazardly in a navy bathrobe, her lacy pyjamas slightly peeking out. Shouto pointedly averted his eyes until Momo cleared her throat (and fumbled with her robe), to which his neck snapped up to focus on her eyes. She looked blearily at him, and Shouto felt like the most important person in the world when she looked at him. Even though she looked as if she was about to vomit… she's so pretty, how is she always so pretty?
The moment was broken when Momo’s eyes suddenly widened and she screeched, whispering something that sounded suspiciously like a curse while abruptly slamming the door in his face.
Alright, you failed.
Go home, Shouto.
Make ramen.
Cry.
Cry into your ramen.
No, he insisted to himself, she may not care for me but she's obviously not herself- she's always composed. As her friend, it's my duty to check up on Momo. "Yaoyorozu?" The boy said loudly, before groaning at his gravely, monotone vocals. "Er, Yaoyorozu? Are you doing okay?" He said somewhat quieter. A trembling voice answered: "Go away, Todoroki, I'm perfectly well." Discouraged but still slightly hopeful, Shou refused to leave without a proper talking-to with the girl.
"You looked ill," he said, head leaning on the door between them, mentally cursing for his bluntness. No-one wants to know that they look ill, especially girls! He hit his head on the door, quietly pleading for death.
"Very well, I'm ill. Satisfied?" A shrill voice returned. She gets tempered when she's sick. How precious. "If it helps, I mean, I feel ill too…but I'm not ill," Shouto offered awkwardly.
A silence, then: "Oh?"
"No, I'm very healthy. It could be a viral stomach flu-”
“Now really, Todoroki-”
“-my heart rate is exceptionally high and I am, at the present moment, carrying a wastebasket about on the occasion that I vomit."
"Oh dear! You sound ill."
"No, it's something else."
A thought much too beautiful for his mind struck Shouto. "Yaoyorozu?" He spat out. Why it came out so aggressively he wasn't quite sure.
"Yes?" She responded, voice sounding much closer to the door, almost as if she was right on the other side. This feels like all the romantic comedies that Midoriya watches.
"Um, is- is there any chance that- that you're in love? The sickness you're feeling- is it love or- maybe it is- just tuberculosis- or a viral stomach flu-" Shouto said, fumbling over his words and cutting the sentence off as he smacked his forehead so hard his ears started ringing. You dolt, you absolute moron!
A long, painful silence followed, one where the dual-haired boy could feel and see everything so intensely. The most notable feeling was his bangs tickling his forehead; Midoriya told him he should trim his bangs but the greenette was a hypocrite, his own emerald hair abnormally long at the moment, what with it curling at his upper neck and flopping over his eyes. It looked becoming on Midoriya, but Shouto felt like an untrimmed animal when his bangs completely covered his eyes.
He clutched the wastebasket tighter; it was solely his grounding object at the moment. He was relatively sure that he could count Momo's breaths. He wished he could see her right now. He listened. Inhale, exhale. Inhale- no, that's not right . Her breathing seemed to be uneven. "Hold your breath, and let it out slowly," he cautioned to the door. "I'm breathing perfectly, thanks," she responded, but Shouto heard her breathe slower, holding her breath.
The silence was punctuated with a groan. "Actually, I'm afraid I can't breathe properly; my nose is a bit stuffy because I'm running a fever of 38.1 Celsius," came her voice filtering through the door. Shouto heard the tell-tale beep of a thermometer.
In that first moment when Shouto realized he loved Momo, it wasn't grand, because the teen boy wasn't grand; he noticed that he was annoyed. Annoyed that there was a door between him and the person he cared about who was hurting.
"Um, Todoroki?"
"Yeah?"
"Why do you feel sick?"
"...Open the door, Yaoyrozu. Someone needs to take care of you."
"Shouto Todoroki, if I open this door, you could get ill."
"I'm already ill!"
"No, I'm not letting you in. I'm a mess, I feel like flaming garbage-"
"Are you decent?" His voice cut her off sharply. Momo glanced down at herself, securely tying her bathrobe about herself. "Yes, but why?"
"If you don't let me in now, I'll fetch Aizawa-sensei and he won't let you train for at least a week if he hears about your fever," came Shouto's satisfied, almost smug response, as if he knew that he'd caught the girl in the corner. Confidence looks good on you, Midoryia had told him once, high-fiving him aggressively. Maybe confidence is good.
Not training for even just a week would kill the young vice president, so with a pained sigh, and a quick check in the mirror (why did she care how she looked? It was just Todoroki!), Momo slowly pulled the door open.
Shouto was, in Momo Yaoyorozu’s humble opinion, one of the most charming boys she'd ever had the pleasure of meeting.
Never mind his scar, the fact that his tone was indefinitely monotone and his expression that made him seem as if he was permanently bored.
He was smart, in the top three students in 1-A.
He was thoughtful, the kind of character that hands you an umbrella before it has even started raining.
He was handsome, with his shaggy head of crimson and ivory hair, lovely turquoise and caramel eyes and then that mysterious something about him, making him seem like a secretive celebrity or someone you're anxious to learn more about. Oh dear, I sound like a girl in one of those romantic comedies that Midoriya watches.
And he was in front of her, looking more than slightly pathetic, both hands wrapped about the mentioned wastebasket, a weak smile gracing his face and a red mark on his cheek from where he undoubtedly rested his head on her door.
She could feel his gaze.
Yes, he was looking at her, but she could really feel him looking at her.
"Come in," she said softly, suddenly very self-conscious of her knotted hair and general unkempt appearance. Shouto, however, didn't seem to notice her discomfort as he placed the wastebasket on the floor outside her dorm then stepped up to her suddenly, placing the back of his hand directly on her forehead. Momo stood ridiculously still, attempting to breathe but Todoroki was standing so close to her that she could see his light eyelashes and Todoroki was standing so close to her that she could see his smallest freckles-
"I'm an idiot," the boy announced, pulling his hand back, "My hands are an unreliable source for a temperature check because of my Quirk. I apologize, I forgot." Momo was hardly listening. I was being grouchy, I was sassing him and now he’s in my room and I’m unattractive, sweaty-
Her heart stopped when she felt the lightest of butterfly touches on her forehead. Shouto Todoroki kissed her forehead.
Shouto straightened up, looking away, a slight crease on his face. "You're definitely warm," he stated, automatically wincing. You know she had a fever, she already told you. You kissed her!
But I was checking her temperature.
But you kissed her-
Momo was lightheaded in a way that most certainly had nothing to do with her illness. Shouto cleared his throat and, noticing a desk and chair in the corner of her room, he said stiffly, "Maybe you should sit down." Momo nodded, her entire face the color of a rose, and moved to sit on her bed. I meant sit at the desk, but now she's sitting on her bed and she looks so pretty and I'm in Yaoyrozu's dormitory and-
Shouto awkwardly sat down across from her on the surprisingly comfortable wooden high back chair that matched said desk. He looked about her room, noting the mess. He hadn't imagined Momo to be an untidy girl, but clothes covered the floor, looseleaf papers and notebooks were scattered across every surface and her bed seemed to be hastily made, the blankets rumpled and uneven. He brushed it off, blaming it on her sickness. Speaking of sickness, you fool-
"Have you taken any medications?" He said, the question filling the small room. The girl pulled at her hair sheepishly. "I was about to text Iida and ask if he could bring me some Tylenol and Ibuprofen," she said, crossing her legs on the bed in an uncharacteristic show of childish comfort. Todoroki suddenly stiffened. Iida? Why Iida? Why would she ask Iida? "Next time, text me instead and ask me for help," he said, looking at her intensely after he said it. You’re nearly shouting at her. Calm down, don't scare her. Momo blinked.
"Very well, I will ask you: are you in possession of any Teylanol and Ibuprofen?"
"Yes, I've got the necessary medicines in my dorm."
"Well, to your dormitory then?"
The pair looked at eachother, then looked away. "Yeah," Shouto said slowly, concentrating on the notebooks on the desk, "let's head over to my dorm." He offered her a hand up and she took it, and Shouto nearly dropped her hand with surprise because what the hell was wrong with him he offered his hand so she’d take but but she took it and she didn’t need it to get up it was just something he saw a gentleman do in one of those WEIRD romantic comedies that Midoriya watches wow what the hell-
Also, said girl was very warm, she needed the medication sooner than later.
They shuffled to the door. Shouto walked through and held the door for her before Momo inhaled sharply and stepped back into her dormitory. "Shouto," she whisper-shrieked, "I'm not- I'm not decent! I can't walk about the whole class building in my pajamas!" Shouto coloured entirely against his will, and respectfully stepped outside her room, shutting the door and giving her a moment of privacy. He leaned his head on the door once more, feeling the blush overwhelm his face. This wasn’t supposed to be complicated. I’m confident now! I think I need Ibuprofen too.
He ran a hand through his hair, feeling it flop back over his forehead and eyes. Exhaling in one long puff that blew his bangs up momentarily. Scratching his scalp. Sudden nervousness that he was scratching his scalp and the irrational moment he believed he had lice. The calm after realizing he did not have lice. Waiting. How long does it take girls to change? She better bundle up; walking about in December in something light would only worsen her condition.
Momo took a moment to collect herself before she fumbled through her cabinets, pulling out some joggers and a baggy shirt. Not the most flattering thing I own but, good gracious Momo, you’re ill. Todoroki won’t care, he’ll understand.
Breathing.
Running a brush through her hair, pulling her hair into a ponytail, and why isn’t my hair cooperating? Sighing for the hundredth time that evening, pulling her hair out of the tie, letting it lay on her shoulders and back.
Breathing.
One of these days I’ll cut my hair. A nice bob. Goodness, how I wish I had something more attractive that provided the same comfort as this unattractive ensemble. Confidence Momo! You are greater than all these things, greater than baggy clothes and greasy hair and Shouto Todoroki is the most handsome man-
She looked in the mirror once more.
She was aware that her nose was runny and she had been wearing the same bra for three days and that Shouto Todoroki -oh, but Shouto Todoroki is outside my bedroom.
She swung the door open and immediately regretted it, as a dizzy feeling hit her and she leaned on the frame. Todoroki was still there, scratching his scalp rather persistently but snapping to attention when the door was pulled open with more than the usual vigor. She was shocked when he stepped up to her, grabbing her shoulders. She sucked in. What?
Shouto kept his hold, studying her face. “Is the dizzy spell over yet?” He asked in the oddest tone. “Midoryia gets them all the time because he forgets to eat and-”
Momo quickly moved forward and wrapped her arms around the boy’s neck, burying her face in his shoulder.
Silence.
And breathing.
Closing her eyes, Momo refused to think about the embarrassment in the form of a pink blush dusting her face. He’s a wonderful, wonderful boy. She slowly felt arms wrap around her and pat her back softly. “Are you okay?” Shouto asked, looking over her head and staring at the wall determinedly. She nodded. He’s warm, I knew he’d be warm. “I’m sorry,” she croaked, not letting go.
“Since you’re sick, it makes sense that you’re craving physical affection. I understand and it’s alright with me. Physical affection is extremely important to humans. Babies can die without physical touch-” the boy rambled on and on, staring at the wallpaper with an intensity, willing the aggressive red in his face to leave.
When Momo pulled away, she looked at her feet.
Shouto followed her gaze to her feet and smiled at the sight of her slippers, and he felt a barrier come crashing down.
“Ready to go?” he said, holding his left hand out to her after leaning to pick up the wastebasket with the right. Confidence, Shouto! If she can be brave, so can you. Momo took his hand with a “Yes, I really do need Ibuprofen.” Confidence Momo! He’s so brave and it’s attractive and you’re running a fever, good glory.
They walked off to the boys dorms, hand in hand, looking guilty and exhilarated and tired and sick. They whispered to each other, keeping a respectful level of noise. The dam broke when Shouto commented on something she said and accidentally dropped the wastebasket to the floor. The loud noise of metal on the concrete made them both flinch before laughing aloud. Months of tension flew out the window and really, she’s nice she’s so nice! I knew it. Maybe I’m confident. Maybe it worked? Maybe she likes me? Maybe she’s sick and tired.
A final chuckle, scratch of the head, and then the shutting of a door made the girl’s dorm room quiet once more, but it felt cleaner, brighter and warmer.
Somewhere in the boys dorm, Izuku Midoriya finished another romantic comedy film, smiling with teary eyes at the happy ending before selecting yet another and clicking the PLAY button.
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