Subtlety
Rating: T
Pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Momo Yaoyorozu
Summary: For Day Four of BnHA Ship Love Week 2018! Prompt: New Experiences/Kisses
In which Todoroki and Momo keep doing coupley things without realizing it. Until, BAM! They do. (Awesome summary, amirite?)
Word Count: 3258 (buckle up)
A/N: Here’s my second contribution for this event and for this ship! :O I’d like to think this pair would realize their feelings for one another over time, in the subtlest of ways. Anyway, enjoy this fluff!
Todoroki’s in her room again, but they’re merely studying for an upcoming exam, as usual.
There’s classical music streaming from the small speakers at her desk, the soft instrumentals accompanying their academic obligations. Momo casts a cursory glance his way, noticing his pen is about to run out of ink.
She doesn’t say anything, only uses her quirk to create a new one for replacement. She hands it over to him, earning a look of surprise that morphs into gratitude.
“Thanks,” Todoroki says, accepting the pen before moving on to the next equation on his worksheet. The room becomes quiet again, save for the music on a recurring loop.
It’s pleasant. More importantly, it’s a testament to how comfortable they find themselves with one another. There’s no need to fill in the silent gaps with conversation.
Momo definitely prefers it this way. When they’re not exchanging answers or discussing their respective assignments, she gratifies her inquisitive nature and steals furtive glimpses of Todoroki while his head is seemingly buried in schoolwork. She admires the way his hair dangles above his forehead, how it reveals more of his scar than anyone else might be comfortable wearing openly. She imagines what it would feel like to brush her fingers through his hair, what it would feel like to trace the surface of his scar ever so lightly.
Todoroki catches her looking at him, suddenly tilting his head up to meet her gaze. Neither say anything, but the understanding is there. Subtle, but there.
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Momo finds herself in U.A.’s infirmary after a particularly strenuous day of training.
She sits up from the small cot, legs dangling over the edge, and massages the bandage over her left arm. Minor nicks and scrapes are speckled along the area in question, but the worst damage incurred was a burn sustained from one of Bakugo’s explosive strikes. Although the mishap had been unintentional, she decides it’s in her best interest to keep about a mile’s distance between them during drills.
After examining the condition of her current bandages, she deduces they need replacement. With her quirk, she produces fresh bandaging material and momentarily sets it aside upon completion. She peels off the old ones, a grimace etched on her face when the singed skin underneath is exposed.
The burn will require some time to heal, and unfortunately, there’s no specific time frame she can assign to the process. It’s not as painful as before, however, but she presumes the mark will remain visible for at least a week. Collateral damage. Could’ve been worse, though. At least she still has full functionality of her arm.
Before Momo can swap the old bandages for the new ones, the door to the infirmary suddenly opens, and in walks Todoroki, so casual but not at all intrusive. It’s weird. It’s like she has this sixth sense that can detect whenever he’s about to show up.
Or maybe Todoroki just has peculiar timing.
“Hey,” he says softly, situating himself across from her on the opposing cot. “How are you holding up?” He’s a little awkward in his approach, but Momo’s grown accustomed to his occasional eccentricities.
“Better,” she replies. Her voice is tight, the pitch too high. “I was just about to replace these.” She nods at the bandages, averting her gaze because a part of her doesn’t want him to worry. Her hands are about to reach for the material, but she’s stopped.
Todoroki moves himself over, sitting right next to her. He scoots in a little closer, almost asking her permission in the quiet expression he conveys. When Momo makes no objection, he takes the bandages and instructs her to lift her arm.
“Here,” he says. “I can do that for you.”
His hands are gentle yet concise, applying pressure where it’s needed while heeding any potential tenderness and sensitivity. Todoroki’s still working on the task at hand when he speaks again.
“You shouldn’t be so reckless, Yaoyorozu.” It’s more of a demand than a suggestion.
Momo frowns. Technically, she wasn’t the one being reckless. Bakugo and the virtue of self-control have yet to merge together in wholesome unification, and she certainly hadn’t meant to stand anywhere near the crossfire. But she knows Todoroki is merely voicing his concern for her safety in the only way he knows how.
She doesn’t respond until after he’s finished wrapping her arm.
“I’ll be sure to exercise more caution in the future,” she pledges, eyes absentmindedly darting towards his right hand. She’s quick to procure an idea. “Now, help me make an ice-pack.”
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The school festival is bustling with crowds, various clusters of students and faculty alike scattered about in proliferating volumes.
Todoroki and Momo gather with a group of fellow classmates, but for reasons beyond basic rationale they stick together. The thought of how close they’re standing next to each other, or even the fact that they’re both wearing blue button-down shirts like it had somehow been telepathically coordinated, never once crosses either of their minds.
After brief deliberation, the group comes to a consensus and convene at a shaved ice stand; the perfect treat for such a warm, sunny day. The line is dauntingly long, and it doesn’t help that Kaminari and Kirishima both take forever and a day to order. On the bright side, Todoroki and Momo are able to bide their time with idle chit-chat.
It’s Izuku’s turn when Momo makes a curious inquiry.
“What are your plans for the summer, Todoroki-san?” she asks. She tries not to sound so overtly proper, but it’s practically force of habit.
Todoroki won’t comment on his affinity for her formal tendencies this time. He’s done so in the past on numerous occasions and each time Momo merely attempts to play it off, a heated blush adorning her face.
Instead, he tilts his head in thought, and replies with the single most important thing on his agenda. “Visit my mother. As often as I can.”
He reverses the question after Izuku’s finished making his purchase. Ochaco’s next in line.
“What about you? You and your family going on vacation somewhere?”
Momo nods. Except, she’s unable to recall whether the destination was France or Italy. In spite of her memory glitch, she opts against sharing that small piece of slightly bourgeois information with him. “Yes, but only for about a week.”
And after that? Well, aside from training, possible internships, studying-
“We should make plans to meet up,” Todoroki proposes amid her contemplation. They’re not looking at each other. It’s almost as though he’s simply talking out loud. Awkward.
Momo fails to suppress the slight trembling of her knees, but she’s able to feign at least some semblance of a composed demeanor. “We should,” she agrees with a feeble nod. “Although with both of our busy schedules, it might be hard to coordinate something.”
Todoroki smirks. Often times, Momo’s Type-A personality gives off the impression that she’s uptight and over-analyzes everything.
He finds it endearing. One of the things he admires most about her.
“We’ll figure something out,” he assures her.
His words offer some consolation but before Momo can say anything more, Ochaco steps aside from the stand and they’re up next in line.
Having stood in line for what felt like an eternity, both know exactly what they want. They go for the same flavor, strawberry, and regroup with everyone else after paying for their respective treats.
While the others are devouring their shaved ice like it’s the end of the world, Momo takes her time and savors every last morsel. She considers herself lucky that Todoroki’s nearby. One of the perks of having him around on this particular occasion is that she can ask him to hold her shaved ice (if perhaps she needs to look for something in her bag or use the restroom) and it’ll stay nice and cold.
By the time both have finished snacking, the realization that the group has abruptly dismantled comes a tad delayed. Midoriya, Ochaco, and Iida had mentioned something earlier about balloon darts, while Kaminari, Jirou, and Kirishima are presumably on the hunt for more food stands.
That leaves Todoroki and Momo alone, once again, in a sea of U.A. students. They contemplate where to go from there.
Momo shares the first thing that comes to mind. “The origami stall seemed promising…”
Todoroki concurs. “We can check it out.”
The only problem is that the origami stall is on the other side of the festival grounds, and the crowd surrounding them has swelled into a massive mob that seemingly barricades any sort of clear path. But Todoroki is confident in his abilities to navigate through the swarm of people.
Momo, on the other hand, would definitely appreciate some guidance.
She doesn’t necessarily ask, nor does Todoroki make an assumption based on her hesitant bearing.
Instead, he wordlessly offers her his hand, nonchalant and obliging. Momo blinks a couple times in acquiescence, accepting the gesture as the perfect solution. She grasps his hand, and he begins hauling them off, piloting through the crowd with resolve. Every now and then, he looks back at her to ensure she’s keeping up just fine, all the while mindful of which turns to take and which ones to avoid.
Successfully following a trajectory devoid of any dead-ends, they eventually make it to the origami stall, unscathed.
They stay by one another’s side for the rest of the day. Neither seem to notice that their hands are still entwined. Neither seem too keen on letting go.
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“I think we’re going to need more tickets for this one.”
Todoroki counts each ticket, one by one, discovering five more are needed in order for two people to be permitted admission aboard the Ferris wheel.
It’s a cool evening. Twilight has beckoned the stars. Summer vacation ends in less than a week, and therefore Momo had been more than willing to accept his invitation to this ‘End of Summer’ festival on the outskirts of the city. It’s nothing like the school festival, and although the crowds are significantly larger, the food and game stalls are far superior. Not to mention the fact that there’s classic rides- including the ever so popular Ferris wheel.
It’s Momo’s all-time favorite.
They’ve only been waiting for a few minutes, but the news of their shortage indicates they’ll have to go purchase more tickets, thus losing their place in line.
Momo doesn’t mind. “Okay, let’s buy more from the automated ticketing machine.” She shivers a bit after a sudden gust of wind blows past them.
“Are you cold?” Todoroki puts the previous subject on hold to address this far more pressing matter.
“It’s a little chilly, but I’ll be fine,” Momo replies. Before she can revert the discussion back to the insufficient funds in tickets, Todoroki has already shed his jacket.
He drapes it over her, ensuring she’s encircled in its warmth. “You can borrow it for the night.”
“But what about you…?” Momo’s voice trails off, slightly flustered by the gesture. It feels so nice…
Todoroki peers down at his left side. “I got it covered,” he says, not expanding any further than that. He doesn’t exactly need to. “You stay in line and save our spot,” he continues. “I’ll get the rest of the tickets.”
Momo nods in compliance, sliding her arms into the sleeves of his jacket. She watches as he disappears into the crowd, his temporary absence allowing for her to be alone with her inner musings.
She shoves both hands into the pockets of his jacket, startled when her right hand makes contact with a small electronic device. Curious, she pulls it out, eyeing it with intrigue. It’s Todoroki’s phone. Momo stares at it for a few seconds before tapping on the screen. It’s locked- requires a four-digit passcode to access its contents.
She taps her chin in thought. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so nosy, but with the opportunity staring her right in the face, it’s hard not to engage. It’ll help pass the time, she reasons. Her first guess is only logical. His birthday. January 11th… so…
1101
Incorrect
She tries his sister’s birthday, but the result is the same.
Incorrect
After rounding up the usual suspects, Momo briefly ponders a ridiculous suggestion.
Should I try my birthday? she quips internally.
In spite of her doubts, she thumbs over the numbers once more and enters in her own birthdate. September 23rd.
2309
It works.
Momo’s jaw drops like a heavy weight and her eyes widen to their maximum circumference.
She shuts the phone off and repeats her actions, thinking there’s no way it would actually work twice. There’s no way…
When the numbers corresponding with her birthdate work again, she feels her stomach drop.
She’s unsure if she can comprehend the flood of emotions raging throughout her head. Confused. Humored. Flattered. Embarrassed- it’s a mixture of everything all at once.
How long has it been this way? And… More importantly… Why??
If it’s for the same reason his birthday is the passcode for her own phone, then it’s obvious she’s been oblivious to what’s been going on between them.
But Momo immediately snaps out of her inner turmoil/heartfelt realization when she spots Todoroki in the blur of figures ahead, weaving his way back to meet her in the line. She shoves his phone back into the jacket’s pocket and forces a smile, hoping her demeanor doesn’t reflect so much as an ounce of the tension straining her throat.
Todoroki assumes his position at her side, appearing much too laidback for her liking. “We’re good to go,” he tells her, holding up the acquisition of his reconnaissance. “Looks like we moved up a couple spots.”
Momo nods, trying her hardest not to look him in the eye. “Yeah,” she replies quietly. She clears her throat and speaks up, intent on cherishing the mood. “We’ll be up with the next group.”
The Ferris wheel makes several more rotations before coming to a slow stop. Once all of the previous passengers have vacated their respective gondolas, Todoroki and Momo step forward, handing over the amassed tickets in exchange for entrance. The ride operator gives them the go-ahead, pointing out a vacant gondola. The duo wastes no time heeding his instructions and hop on in, sitting side by side.
The wheel has yet to turn and Momo can already hear her heart drum in her ears, thumping wildly against her chest. She’d never felt this nervous before around Todoroki. Perhaps she’d felt a bit intimidated by him in the past before she’d really gotten to know him on a more personal level, but never has she felt so on edge. Never has her heart swelled up in such a manner. Never has her stomach felt as though it’d been turned inside out.
These are clearly symptoms of a-
“Yaoyorozu?” Todoroki’s voice breaks her faltering concentration. His question emerges as the Ferris wheel begins to make its first rotation, tilting at a slow and steady pace. It’s clear that he senses something from her. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
Only then does Momo make eye contact again, albeit reluctantly. For one thing, she doesn’t want him to worry about her while she’d merely been lost in her trivial reveries. “N-no,” she mumbles, steeling herself in the confines of his warm jacket. “I mean, heights don’t bother me. The view is the best part.”
What exactly does he detect in her apprehension? Why does the look on his face seem to convey he finds her response dissatisfying?
If he is troubled by her evasiveness, he shows no indication of calling her out on it. Rather, he waits until their gondola is well above the crowd to be both comfortably out of earshot and to make a revelation of sorts.
“This is kinda nice, isn’t it?” he begins, unintentionally amplifying Momo’s anxiety.
She feels as though she’s internally combusting.
In spite of the chaotic mess that riles her mind, Momo proceeds with, “What is?”
“Being up here,” Todoroki answers. “You were right. The view is amazing.”
Momo should be enjoying the view- but that depends on which view is being addressed in this scenario. Their gondola cranks higher and higher still, offering captivating sights of the city skyline in the distance and the stars twinkling above. They’ve almost reached the highest point but she finds herself wanting only to look at him. All she can think about is how close they are, how their hands are almost touching, how she suddenly feels like she’s suffocating.
No, Momo thinks. I was wrong.
Turns out the view isn’t the best part.
It’s sharing this experience with Todoroki.
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Is it normal to develop feelings for a close friend?
Todoroki mulls over the thought as he walks Momo home one particularly chilly winter evening, simultaneously hoping there’s some sort of self-help guidebook he can examine for research purposes.
How to Deal With Feelings You Have For A Friend… For Dummies.
He’s probably walked down this same sidewalk with her more times than he can count, but somehow it seems as though the scene’s been perfectly set to test a certain theory.
Momo’s talking about something; he’s not entirely sure what though. He only pays attention to fragments of the lopsided conversation. It’s difficult to keep up with what she’s going on about when his mind is centered on how lovely she looks with rosy cheeks and calm half-lidded eyes. Todoroki’s clandestine observation eventually narrows on her lips. Now he’s really curious.
Her lips are a fair shade of pink, and they move in such fascinating patterns that align seamlessly with every syllable of every word that projects from the silky tone of her voice.
He wonders what they feel like; if they’re as soft as they look.
The pair stops just outside the gate to her home, and Momo carries on with the usual ‘goodbyes’ in formulated fashion. But before the words bidding him farewell can leave her mouth, Todoroki leans in and presses a small kiss to her lips.
It surprises her. Catches her off guard. Leaves her utterly stunned.
Todoroki slowly pulls away to see her reaction, unfathomable warmth swelling in his chest. He’s confident his little experiment has produced positive results; revels in the sight of her flushed face and glossy eyes. Still, he decides he must repeat the procedure for greater validity.
Strictly for the sake of his theory.
“How was that?” he asks, brushing over her cheek with his thumb.
Momo’s lips quiver. “I… I don’t know…” she stutters, already tipping her head in preparation for another kiss. “I think we need to do it again.”
To make a well-informed decision, of course.
Todoroki half-smiles, slipping his hands to her waist as she loops her arms around his neck.
The second kiss is slower, deeper. They take their time adjusting with innocent strokes and tentative motions. They’re clearly inexperienced with such intimate gestures, but neither have any qualms exploring these untouched waters together. They pull away in unison only to catch their breaths.
Where to go from here? Who knows. The sensible solution would probably consist of having a completely open and honest discussion about where they stand in this relationship; if they’re more than just friends.
But that can wait for now, as evidenced by the eager expressions they share with one another.
Both are perfectly fine resuming the kiss.
