they will guard thee from harm.
SUMMARY
Shouto looks down with a delayed kind of panic, eyes widening when he sees that his homework is burning underneath his touch. His pencil is now a black puddle of plastic goo and graphite. He curses and tries to smother the fire, temper mounting higher as the crackling of the flames rises in perfect harmony with the sound of Bakugou’s maniacal laughter.
—
When Present Mic asks him to watch Bakugou for the afternoon, all that Shouto can think of to say is, “You want me to babysit?”
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[ao3 link]
[discord server]
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When Present Mic asks him to watch Bakugou for the afternoon - something about having to help out a fellow hero or something of that vein - all that Shouto can think of to say is, “You’re aware that I’m sick, right?”
Present Mic sighs. “Yes, Todoroki,” he says, “I am aware that you are sick.” He glances over at where Bakugou is sitting on the common-room couch, kicking his feet back and forth as he doodles something on the sketchbook that Yaoyorozu made for him, blissfully unaware of the conversation taking place just a few paces away. “I mean, it won’t be for too long, and…” He trails off, looking sheepish. “If you don’t think you can -”
“No, I can do it,” Shouto says, then blinks, unsure as to why exactly he just said that. He’s not an older brother. He doesn’t know how to take care of children. Besides the remedial course with Bakugou, the longest time he’s spent with small children recently is when Eraserhead brought Eri around for Christmas.
“Thanks so much,” Present Mic says, and now it's too late to take his offer back. “It's just for a few hours. Just don’t let him, y’know, die or anything. Keep him happy. Don’t let him see Midoriya.”
Shouto nods and nods without actually processing a word of what his teacher is saying. “Okay.”
Looking relieved, Present Mic walks over to Bakugou and crouches down in front of him. “I have to leave for a little bit,” Shouto hears the hero say. “Todoroki is going to watch you for me, alright? Make sure to listen to him!”
Bakugou stops drawing and looks up at Present Mic with a wounded expression on his face. “Where are you going?” he asks. “Why can’t I come?”
“I’m going to go do hero work,” Present Mic explains, patient as always. “You can’t come with me because it’ll be too dangerous for you, and I don’t want you to be hurt.”
Bakugou looks like he understands what Present Mic is saying, but he doesn’t look all that happy about it. “Alright,” he says, sounding like he’s trying not to show how upset he is. “Come back soon.”
Present Mic stands and ruffles Bakugou’s hair. “Be good for Todoroki, okay?” he says, which earns him a grumble in response. Present Mic laughs and walks towards the door. He opens it, then pauses. “Thanks again, Todoroki,” he says, and then he leaves.
… And that’s that.
[1:43 PM] Todoroki Shouto: Fuyumi.
[1:43 PM] Todoroki Shouto: Do you know how to take care of small children?
[1:49 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: i mean.
[1:49 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: considering that i’m an elementary school teacher, i’d like to say yes?
[1:51 PM] Tordoroki Shouto: Okay. Do you know what it means when they won’t stop being angry?
that usually means that they’re hungry, in my experience.
[1:53 PM] Todoroki Shouto: Okay, thanks.
[1:54 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: no problem!!
[1:54 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: wait.
[1:54 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: why are you asking this.
[1:54 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: shouto?
[1:54 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: shouto???
Shouto inspects the contents of the refrigerator, then looks at Bakugou. “What kind of food do you like to eat?”
Bakugou doesn’t even look up from where he’s sitting in the doorway of the kitchen, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he rakes a bright red crayon across a fresh sheet of paper. “I’m not hungry.”
Shouto closes the door of the fridge and leans against it, watching as Bakugou nearly rips through his drawing with the force of his strokes. “Have you eaten lunch?” he asks, wondering if that’s the reason why Bakugou is denying food when he’s obviously so angry.
Bakugou’s reply is short and sharp, “No.”
“Well, then, you need to eat.”
“No,” Bakugou repeats, spitting the word out with much more venom than strictly necessary. “I’m not fucking hungry! Go away!”
“If you’re not hungry, why are you so upset?”
Bakugou yells, “I DON’T KNOW!” and there’s a loud, flat crack! as his Quirk activates on both hands, palms exploding in flaring sparks of orange and white. This only seems to agitate Bakugou further, and he jumps to his feet and storms away, leaving Shouto alone in the kitchen.
Shouto waits a moment to see if his classmate is going to come back, and then sighs when he hears the television turn on in the common room. He walks over to where Bakugou had been sitting and bends down to pick up the half-melted crayon. He stares at it for a second, then throws it away, stooping once more to retrieve Bakugou’s sketchbook from the floor. He closes it carefully, tucks it under his arm, and then follows after Bakugou.
[2:19 PM] Todoroki Shouto: He said that he isn’t hungry.
[2:19 PM] Todoroki Shouto: He also yelled at me.
[2:22 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: isn’t it a school day? why are you taking care of a child? whose kid is it?
[2:26 PM] Todoroki Shouto: It's a long story.
[2:26 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: … alright.
[2:26 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: so, he’s still angry?
[2:29 PM] Todoroki Shouto: Yes.
[2:30 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: maybe he’s tired? that makes a lot of kids cranky. try to put him down for a nap and see if that helps.
[2:31 PM] Todoroki Shouto: Okay.
“You know,” Bakugou says, breaking the silence. “You’re not a very happy person.”
It's the way he says it, like he’s stating a fact, that makes Shouto pause. He turns in his chair, curious despite himself and guiltily grateful for the distraction from his homework - which he still has to complete, apparently, even though he feels so sick that his entire head is just one pulsing, unrelenting ache. “What makes you say that?” he asks.
Bakugou stares up at him from where he’s sitting in the middle of Shouto’s futon, blankets piled high around him like a castle wall, wide-eyed and alert and definitely not asleep. “You don’t smile,” he says, “and you don’t laugh.” He pauses, then asks, “Is that my fault?”
Shouto shakes his head and turns back to his homework, glaring down at the missing angles and unknown values of x. “No,” he says.
“Well, are you sad?”
Shouto glances over at him, then shakes his head again. He’s spent most of his life being angry and upset and afraid, but he can’t remember ever looking around and being sad about the things that stared back. “I have no reason to be sad.”
“Everyone has a reason to be sad. Even All Might, I bet.”
The way he says it - All Might - is telling. The name is spoken with a kind of quiet awe, and it's something that Shouto - raised to respect and acknowledge the hero’s strength, but ultimately hold the man himself in utter contempt - can’t quite understand.
“I’m not All Might,” Shouto points out, jotting down what he hopes to be the correct answer to the first problem on the sheet. “I don’t even like him.”
“You probably don’t like anyone.”
“That’s not true,” Shouto says. “I like my friends. And I love my family.”
“Everybody loves their family,” Bakugou says, and from the tone of his voice, Shouto can tell that he’s rolling his eyes. “You have to. Even if they’re mean to you.”
“I don’t think you have to love anyone that you don’t want to.”
Bakugou is quiet for a moment, like he’s thinking of a response, and then he says, “Well, you have to at least try.”
“Why do I have to be the one to try if they’re the ones that hurt me in the first place?” Shouto snaps, not even realizing what he’s said until the words are already out of his mouth. He slams his pencil on his desk and rises from his chair, glaring at Bakugou. “Can you please just go to sleep?”
Bakugou scowls right back at him, Shouto’s blanket yanked around his shoulders like a cape. “I’m not tired.”
Shouto’s vision blurs, and he sneezes into his elbow, then sniffs the air. The smell of smoke is filling the room, and he looks down with a delayed kind of panic, realizing too late that his homework is burning underneath his hand. His pencil is now a black puddle of plastic goo and graphite. Shouto curses and tries to smother the fire, temper mounting higher as the crackling of the flames rises in perfect harmony with the sound of Bakugou’s maniacal laughter.
[2:56 PM] Todoroki Shouto: That didn’t work out very well.
[2:27 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: hm.
[2:27 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: maybe he’s bored?
[2:27 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: you could try putting on a movie.
[2:28 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: i don't really know if that’ll work, but it’s worth a shot.
[3:05 PM] Todoroki Shouto: Thanks.
he says -
mama?
- and she turns around. her fingers comb through his hair and then latch onto it. she rips his hair back and she’s crying and he’s crying and she says -
she says -
the kettle screams.
Shouto jolts awake and glances around frantically, heart pounding in his sore throat. He all but falls off of the couch in his rush to get to the kitchen. He’s moving so fast that he skids into the doorway and has to grab onto it to avoid tripping over his own feet.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hisses at Bakugou.
“Making tea, obviously,” Bakugou says, shoving a stool across the tiled floor and clambering onto it. He strains to reach the controls of the stovetop, fingers barely brushing the dial. He somehow manages to turn off the burner and shoots Shouto a triumphant, bratty grin that makes Shouto’s blood boil with both fever and annoyance.
And then the stool tips over.
Bakugou falls with a yelp, a sharp noise of shock that quickly cuts off with a pained hiss when his hand knocks roughly against the still-shrieking kettle. Shouto darts forward and catches Bakugou before he can hit the ground, yanking him into the air and clutching him to his chest as his pulse races so fast that he feels dizzy.
After a long moment of shocked silence, Bakugou unfreezes. “Let me go,” he huffs, then goes right back to the stove when Shouto obliges. He stands on his tip-toes and reaches for the kettle, and that motion alone is enough to snap Shouto out of his daze.
He grabs Bakugou’s wrist and says, “Let me see your hand.”
“No.” Bakugou yanks his arm away. “Fuck off.”
“We have to ice - no, we have to run cold water over the burn. If we don’t -”
“I TOLD YOU TO FUCK OFF!” Bakugou screams.
And maybe it's the fact that he’s sick, or maybe Bakugou is reminding him way too much of himself at that age, or maybe it's a combination of both, but Shouto’s temper flares up fast and hot and wild, too dark and writhing to be contained. He yells back, “DO YOU WANT IT TO SCAR?”
Bakugou snarls at him, teeth bared. “I don’t need your help!” he snaps, face going red with anger. “I never asked for your help! Leave me alone!”
Shouto closes his fingers around Bakugou’s wrist again and shakes him, asking in a waspish tone that makes his voice sound unrecognizable even to his own ears, “Why are you so angry?”
Bakugou shoots back, “Why are you so angry?”
“Because you’re pissing me off!”
“Well, you’re pissing me off, too!” Bakugou glares at him and wrenches out of Shouto’s grip, fists balled at his sides as his eyes go dangerously wide and watery, lips pressing into a thin line. Shouto only has time to think, I can’t believe that I’m having a fight with a literal child, before Bakugou spins on his heel and stalks away, muttering under his breath.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Shouto asks.
“Away from you,” Bakugou retorts.
“You little -” Shouto digs his nails into his palms, seething, and watches Bakugou walk away. And then, frustrated and terrified and still pissed as Hell, he grabs the kettle and makes them both some fucking tea.
[3:42 PM] Todoroki Shouto: I don’t think that I’m very good at babysitting.
The movie plays before them, blurred by Shouto’s thoughts and the shake in his hands that refuses to go away. He takes a sip of tea and forces himself not to flinch when it burns his tongue.
[3:51 PM] Todoroki Shouto: Is practice running late?
[3:51 PM] Sero Hanta: Yo that’s wild i was just abt to text you!
[3:51 PM] Sero Hanta: hows baku??
[3:57 PM] Todoroki Shouto: He’s alright.
[3:58 PM] Sero Hanta: You sure? bc aizawa isseriously pissed at yamada rn
[3:58 PM] Sero Hanta: thats why were so late coming back lmao he keeps getting distractde and yelling at yamada for more shit
[3:59 PM] Sero Hanta: Hes. really mad
[3:59 PM] Sero Hanta: Mostly abt the fact that yamada made you babysit when youre sick
[3:59 PM] Sero Hanta: How are you feleing btw??? Class isnt the same w/o you
[4:03 PM] Todoroki Shouto: I don’t think that Bakugou likes me very much. And I also don’t think that I ever want to babysit again.
[4:03 PM] Todoroki Shouto: I yelled at him. I feel bad about it.
[4:05 PM] Sero Hanta: Well then you should probs apologize
[4:05 PM] Sero Hanta: I have a little sister and i was the youngest for like. 12 years. Nothing makes a kid feel better than when someone says theyre sorry
[4:05 PM] Sero Hanta: Hardly anyone bothers to apolgize to kids anymore
[4:05 PM] Sero Hanta: its weird
[4:05 PM] Todoroki Shouto: I suppose that that’s true.
[4:05 PM] Todoroki Shouto: And it is pretty strange, isn’t it?
“I’m sorry.” The words feel awkward and heavy when they fall out of his mouth, hitting the floor like stones and making him want to close his eyes so that he doesn’t have to look at Bakugou’s face. He imagines how different things would be if someone - anyone - had apologized to him when he was younger, and the crushing misery that accompanies the thought sweeps over him like a tidal wave. It's like the opposite of Uraraka’s Quirk, but it leaves him feeling dizzy and light-headed all the same. “For yelling at you, I mean. I - I don’t know why…” He trails off and stares down at his hands, feeling stupid and irrational and wrong.
Beside him, Bakugou has gone deathly still. Shouto doesn’t even know if he’s breathing. He doesn’t know if either of them is breathing really, because it feels like they’re both trapped in a pocket of stale air and silence and neither of them is willing to make the first move to break it.
Finally, Bakugou says, “Well, it's alright.”
Shouto’s head snaps up. He feels like he did those first few weeks after the bandages came off of his eye, how everything was just out of reach when he stretched his hand out to touch it, how nothing was where it seemed to be. He finds himself asking, disbelieving and shocked, “Just like that?”
Bakugou shifts, folding his legs underneath himself. “Yeah,” he says. “Just like that.”
[4:07 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: well… i don’t know what to tell you, honestly.
[4:07 PM] Todoroki Fuyumi: some kids are just like that.
[4:08 PM] Todoroki Fuyumii hate to say it, but maybe he’s just a bad kid.
[4:12 PM] Todoroki Shouto: No, I don’t think that he is.
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SOLDIER Vlogging Shenanigans pt. 8
[The video starts off filming a hallway. The person filming is walking at a rapid pace. Angered breaths are heard from behind the camera]
[The person filming stops in front of a door and wrenches it open. Inside the office are Genesis and Sephiroth leaning over a massive Jenga tower. They freeze like two deers caught in the headlights]
"WHAT are you two doing!?" Angeal snaps, moving the camera back and forth between the two SOLDIERs
[The camera zooms in on Sephiroth, who visibly tries to act natural as he stands up straight]
"It's not what it looks like."
[The camera whirs back in a blur to Genesis, who's taken to hiding his face behind his copy of LOVELESS]
"Genesis!" Angeal hisses.
[Genesis let's the book drop and pouts. The camera briefly points to Sephiroth, who's now pretending to study the pattern on the carpet]
"We were bored!" Genesis argues.
"What did I say about you two and Jenga!?"
[Sephiroth and Genesis both groan, exchanging withering looks before answering]
"We're not allowed to play Jenga anymore," they answer in unison.
"Why??"
[They sigh again. Genesis shifts uncomfortably in place, avoiding the camera. Sephiroth lets his shoulders drop, possibly in shame]
"Because we're violent and immature children who can't play Jenga without blowing up the SOLDIER floor," They both recite Angeal's words Verbatim.
"And I banned Jenga because??" Angeal presses, still not satisfied.
[The camera pans from Genesis to Sephiroth, both men looking visibly uncomfortable as they stare at the Jenga tower]
"Because last time we punched each other through a hole eight floors down and landed right in the middle of a board meeting and the president was so shocked he choked on his cigar and almost died," they recite.
"Good," Angeal huffs. "Now put it away!"
[The camera whirs around as Angeal heads for the door, throwing it open. He viscously points the camera back once more. Sephiroth has hung his head. Genesis's lips are a cartoonishly pointed frown. Angeal slams the door shut behind him and flips the camera back to himself]
"Honestly, those two," he grumbles, walking down the hallway, "I leave them alone for five minutes and they—"
[Angeal halts in place as the sound of blocks toppling reaches his enhanced ears. His face twists into a mortified dread]
"Oh no."
[Genesis's muffled screeches fill the quiet hall ("SEPHIROTH!") followed by the unmistakable sound of a desk being thrown into the wall, multiple sword clangers, and an explosion. The camera shakes as Angeal swoops down, ducking]
"OH FOR THE LOVE OF—"
[He ends the video before the younger viewers can see him swearing like a sailor]
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