Chapter Text
Todoroki had always enjoyed staring up at the ceiling after a long day. It was a good opportunity to be by himself, to give himself some breathing room, to think or sometimes just to zone out until he fell asleep. Sometimes he would watch the patterns on the sealing change in the light. Other times he would plan out the day to come. And other times he would be consumed with horrible anxiety that would gnaw away at him and keep him up.
Todoroki had a secret. A deep, horrendous and life-altering secret. It had permeated every moment of his life since he had realised it.
Todoroki was gay.
Which, in Japan, was already unheard of. But no one had ever heard of an openly gay pro-hero anywhere. It kept him up at night at times. That it would be revealed, how it could affect everything, his future, his dreams of becoming a pro-hero, even worsening his already poor relationship with his parents.
So, he learned to hide it, drown it deep, deep down into himself. Steeling himself against it. Which wasn’t too hard. His father, Endeavour was against dating of any kind saying that it would distract him from his training. But still, occasionally there would be a comment. When other boys in his class would discuss what they thought of certain female pro-heros:
“Bro, Twilight is so hot!” One boy might say.
“No way, man! Mantis Woman is so much hotter!” Touted another.
“Todoroki, who’s your favourite girl pro-hero?”
“I don’t really care.” He would answer. Which was the truth, even if they had been talking about male heroes he wouldn’t have had an answer ready.
“What!? Surely you must have some preference? What are you, gay?” They would always spit it out as they said it, like they didn’t want the sound to touch their tongue any longer than it had to.
Back then he had no grasp on what that word really meant, just that he certainly did not want to be it. So Todoroki quickly learned an answer to provide whenever that topic came up.
He came to the conclusion that he was gay as he had never felt any romantic notion towards a girl before, he never had an answer to the question of what kind of girl he liked.Though, neither had he the answer to what kind of boy either.
But the memory of being forced to watch romantic movies with his sister, watching as she clutched onto herself and blushed and cringed as she watched the male lead; realising that he too was experiencing the same emotions though in a far less dramatic manner. That forced him to examine it a bit closer, which scared him more than anything.
Seeing these images of his memory flash in his head now as he stared up at his ceiling he considered again the thought he had always drawn. Maybe he wasn’t gay? Perhaps those emotions he felt were just towards that character the actor was portraying rather than their physical aspects. He had never once even seen a boy in person that he actually felt drawn to in any way.
That line of denial had served him well through the years. He had been able to deflect any thoughts he might have had quite expertly using it. But this time was different. So horribly different.
The image of his face appeared in his mind, making him blush and cringe, holding his hands over his eyes and rolling over in his bed, like an ashamed dead man in their grave. He didn’t know what to do with himself. New emotions he had never felt before flooded over him, a heavy hollow yet full feeling grew within his chest. He felt as if he was sinking into himself but he couldn’t shake the thought that kept spurring it.
Denki Kaminari.
Kaminari was someone who his father would say was beneath him. He didn’t come from a prestigious family, nor was he an excellent student. His carefree, unserious attitude was so polar opposite to anything he had ever experienced growing up. Kaminari seemed so comfortable in his own skin, he wore his quirk like a badge of honour, even incorporating it into his hair and fashion style. Todoroki grasped his left hand to his right arm gently feeling the incompatible difference between the two halves of himself fighting as they tried to cool/warm the opposing side.
Being able to be so free and comfortable with yourself despite your limitations was so admirable to him. Perhaps due to living in an environment where his best was never enough. Maybe his attraction to Kaminari wasn’t physical at all, it was his qualities that he was attracted to.
Yes. That must’ve been it. He didn’t have a crush, it was just a deep admiration. If Kaminari was a girl then surely he’d also feel the same way wouldn’t he?
Wouldn’t he?
The image of the boy in his hero outfit, smiling dumbly after using too much of his power appeared in his mind. Todoroki smiled and felt that pang in his chest again.
Surely he would.
---------
Sleep continued evading him and eventually he capitulated, getting up in hopes that a short lap round the house and a cup of water would tire him out enough. The bamboo mats beneath his feet made an imperceptible noise as he pressed his full weight onto them and got up. He slid his bedroom door open, being careful as not to make a loud knocking and started his lap of the hallway. The hardboard floor was bitterly cold, his left foot protested slightly each time he raised it and placed it back down against it as he walked. His body could not even agree with itself.
He made his way to the kitchen, silently grabbing a tap and filling it with water and cooling it with his right hand. The glass fogged as the temperature dropped, freezing it almost solid. Todoroki looked out into the dark abyss of the window over the stove. His thoughts becoming blurred as he saw his reflection projected back at him in the onyx void.
“Shouto?” A familiar voice called. “What are you doing up? Don’t you have school in the morning?” His sister, Fuyumi asked, walking into the kitchen rubbing her eyes tiredly.
He took a sip of his water, his teeth chattering at the freezing liquid.
“Don’t you have to run a school in the morning?” he shot back, attempting a joke. Not before immediately regretting it as he realised from the look on her face that his tone had been off. Her eyebrow raised, lips pursed, since becoming a teacher she had perfected her glares even more so. “You wanna try that again?” She asked, “What’s up, Shouto?”
“Nothing’s up.” He said plainly, taking another swig of the glass, half his mouth feeling numb, the feeling travelling down his esophagus into the deep chasm of his chest. “I’m fine.”
He rubbed his lips with the back of his hand.
Fuyumi sighed, she played with the stands of her sheer white hair with her pen stained fingers, “Do you want to talk?” Fine did not mean “fine” at the best of times, but, it took on a deeper meaning in their household. She took a seat at the round breakfast table and patted the one beside it. “Come on, let’s chat, a wee catch up. You know I’ve barely even seen you since you started U.A on Wednesday, Shouto.”
Shouto looked at her for a moment. Realistically how much could he even tell her? Yes they were siblings, and she had always been there for him when his mother wasn’t but, was this something he could really talk to her about. He sat down regardless, obediently even, seeing no way out of it other than bolting to his room where she would surely follow.
She smiled giddily, clutching her hands to her chest in fists. Now that he thought of it he couldn’t recall the last time they had had a chat like this; it must have been a long time if she had such a large reaction to it.
“What do you want to talk about?” he asked.
She looked at him slightly aghast, “I wanna know everything about your school, how you’re getting on, what the teachers are like.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s good.”
Fuyumi’s face scrunched, her glasses touching the bottom of her eyebrows and she leaned over the table to him slightly. “Please? Come on, give me something. I mean you’re going to the most prestigious school in the country. I applied there to be a teacher you know, they must be doing something interesting over there”
Todoroki thought for a moment, he had went to a private middle school which was already touted as one of the best in Japan, so perhaps what was extraordinary for other schools felt normal to him. The instruction at U.A felt like a natural progression from middle school, he hadn’t noticed anything particularly out of the ordinary, outside of hero training of course.
“I’ve only been at school for 3 days, you know so I still don’t really know much. I like my classmates. They’re all-they’re mostly nice.” He said, Bakugo’s temper forefront in his mind. “And my teachers, my homeroom teacher is Eraserhead. I think I told you before.”
“You did. He’s worked with Dad a few times, I think we invited him over for dinner once.” She said, Todoroki straightened up at that, he couldn’t imagine Izawa sat in his living room, the thought seemed unnatural. The idea of having home and school life mixed together irked him slightly. Fuyumi continued: “You were too young to remember though. I only remember because of how much he scared me, with his bloodshot eyes and everything…” she trailed off as if remembering another detail but choosing to withhold it. Shouto didn’t press.
“But that’s good you like your class! It’s like I said to you before, you’ll probably be working with these people for the rest of your life, Shouto. It’s important to get along with them.”
He nearly choked on his water, the thought of having to work alongside Bakugo for the next 20-30 years scared him, he shook his head trying to remove the thought from his mind. “I’m not too sure about that…”
“Well, Dad went to UA with All-Might and look at where they are now.” She commented, twirling a pen in her hand. “Anyway, you’ve made some friends right?” She always asked this whenever he started in a new class or grade. “People to eat lunch with?”
“I bring a book.”
Her excitement dropped, and he could predict the words about to leave her mouth, “Shouto, you really need to try and be more social. It’s not good for you to spend all your time by yourself.” she told him, he wondered faintly how many other times she had used this spiel on other kids. She had perfected the art of giving a telling kindly.
“Well, I don’t really. They sit next to me and I enjoy the background noise.” He argued. “Sometimes, I even chime in.” Which was true. When he sat with Midoriya he would sometimes put his book down and engage in earnest about whichever quirk he was analysing that day.
She didn’t seem satisfied with that either, but hummed almost in agreement. “Right. Well, maybe tomorrow leave the book.”
That was not a question. That was an order.
“But you’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely,” he said without even a second of delay, “you know I’ve always wanted to be a pro-hero. Even without Endeavor’s efforts.”
She sighed, “I know. I know. I just… You know I just want you to be happy, Shouto.” She paused, clawing her nails into the wood of the table gently, “You know if you wanted to go to a normal high school and onto university I’d have been with you all the way. I’d fight Dad if need be.”
The thought of her giving Endeavor a tongue lashing made him chuckle, “I know. You’re good to me, Sis.” He said, edging his finger across the rim of his glass.
She smiled and took a hold of his left hand. “Someone in this house has to be. God only knows you aren’t.” He let her fingers trace over her knuckles feeling the pleasing cool temperature of her skin mix with the heat of his own. It reminded him of his mother.
They sat there for a few minutes like that. She looked so much like their mother in old photographs. He wondered how she was doing. Trapped, in the hospital. Not wanting to see him. He reached up to touch his scar, the very stove and kettle that caused it sitting right there across from him now. Fuyumi squeezed his hand, bringing his attention back to her. For a split second he thought he saw a frown on her face as though she could read his thoughts, but it quickly turned to her usual gentle smile.
Then a sly smirk.
Oh no.
“Shouto.” She began. He could hear it now, exactly the words that were about to come out of her mouth, “You know I hate to ask this. And I know you hate to answer it, but I can’t stop myself. I have to ask. Are there any girls you like in your class?”
He groaned loudly. He knew she didn’t mean anything by it, but still, at what point does someone not get a hint? “Do you really have to ask that? You should already know the answer.”
Fuyumi’s smirk persisted, “You never know when you’ll meet that special someone.” Clearly she had been watching something while doing her marking. Perhaps one of the same worn out DVDs they watched together long ago.
He let out another overaggerated groan, “It’s everyday with this nonsense with you, I think I have enough going on anyway without a girlfriend.” He couldn't help but smile as she let out a laugh, the reverberations carrying through her palm to his.
Her voice became small, Shouto so her neck bob as she gulped as if building up her courage, “If you think you’re too busy for a girlfriend.” She started, looking down at first, then meeting his eyes, “Are there any boys in your class you think are cute?”
Shouto spat ice out his hand, going far up his arm, rooting him to the table in an awkward position. Half his body jutted up - supported by the ice - while the other half was hanging halfway off the chair.
“What?” He questioned.
What did she just say?
Boys, in his class, that he thought were cute? He thrashed trying to free his arm, his head hanging downwards from his neck’s higher vantage.
“Shouto..” Fuyumi said, carefully as though not knowing how to approach the situation, “It’s ok.”
“I’m not. Fuyumi, you know that I’m not…” This was pathetic, he couldn’t even bring himself to say the word.
He still couldn’t even move, sabotaged by his own quirk.
Fuyumi kept hold of his left hand and squeezed it tightly. Not trying to keep him in place, but as a comfort. She tucked her chair out and got up, freeing his hand and bringing it over to the ice mass around his arm. Shouto did the rest pushing warmth through it and feeling the water drip slowly off him.
Shouto slumped back in his chair. He hadn’t had a reaction (or accidents as his mother used to call them) like that since he was small and just learning his quirks. Fuyumi stood behind him. He felt small now, someone knew. Someone had known for, for god only knows how long. If she knew then how many other people would have known also by now. This was it.
She wrapped her arms around him. His heart was thumping out of his chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. But I just need you to know I’m here when you need someone to talk to. 100% confidentiality. Ok?” Shouto didn’t respond.
“I’ll see you in the morning ok?” She started to walk away into the hallway.
“Fuyumi.” His throat suddenly felt scratchy, “Wait.”
She turned around.
“Let’s talk in my room.” He declared, getting up almost dizzily. His hand pressed against the table for support.
=============
They didn’t say anything until they made it into Shouto’s room. He went to sit down on his bed, pulling a blanket around him as his sister joined him. In the low light of the room her features stood out against the sheer white background of her hair.
He didn’t know what he could even begin to say. What can you say to something like that? Someone springing your greatest shame upon you casually mid-conversation at 2:30 AM.
“How long have you known?” He started.
She played with the end of his blanket wrapping and unwrapping it around her finger, “I’ve always known, Shouto. You glancing at some actor or advert when you thought no one was looking, having that same reaction you always did when people asked if you liked girls.” She looked down again, “I suppose I never knew for certain but… there were signs I think.”
Shouto fell back onto his pillows behind him. How many other people could have and have noticed these signs. He pulled his knees up to his chin. Fuyumi wriggled over to meet his gaze lying next to him. “Shouto… It’s nothing to be ashamed of…” she started.
“But it is.” He said, “It isn’t natural, is it. It’s… something wrong with me. It’s like this quirk.” The quirk which had terrified his mother to the point of injuring him, virtually disowning him, which had forced all of the expectations of his father upon him. Being gay, not being able to hide it. Well, that was just the cherry on top.
“No!” She said forcefully, “No, Shouto don’t you ever, ever say that.” She reached for his chin and turned him to look at her. “Shouto, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re the most perfect person there is.”
He laughed at how ridiculous that statement was, his nose - which had unknown to him become blocked somewhere along the road - making a horrible trumpeting noise as he did. He had a scar on his face which proved he wasn’t perfect.
Fuyumi moved her hand to his neck and brought him against her, manipulating him like a ragdoll - his muscles not responding.
“I’m so sorry, Shouto. I shouldn’t have pushed you.” she rubbed her free hand up and down his back through his pyjama top and blanket - which now somewhat enveloped her also. A kind warmth wrapped around them, Shouto spent a few minutes with his head against her neck, pretending not to notice his wet face and attributing his shivering and coughs to a change in weather.
“No.” He said, his steadfast tone unnaturally wavering as he sniffed and gasped, “It’s good, it’s nice to hear someone else say it. The truth.” He said between choked coughs, voice taut.
“I am… gay.” He said into Fuyumi’s hair. “I like boys the way I’m supposed to like girls.”
Saying it aloud made it sound so childish the way he said it. This was the thing that impacted his life so much? Who he like liked? It suddenly made the issue feel far less powerful or threatening.
He gasped, letting out a sob-like noise, feeling like he was breathing fresh air again after almost drowning and he pushed away from his sister, only enough to be able to see her face properly. “You were right. I am gay. I am.” He said with more and more confidence, each time feeling like a kite receiving an extra gust of wind. Freer and freer. His voice still shook and his face still felt sticky and gross. But, looking at Fuyumi, he felt only love from her pouring into him. Filling him, banishing the hollow feeling of dread and fear.
This wasn’t something he had to bottle up inside anymore. He had someone here for him.
She kept stroking his hair just like how she used to do when they were younger when their parents thought or Endeavor shouted at him too hard, or when the thunder crackled. “Feel better, Shouto?”
His brain didn’t quite register the question, he spent a moment just staring off into space. He felt too overwhelmed to think, to project any kind of facade.
“A lot.” He answered instinctually, then another moment passed before his head could place his next sentence together: “What made you bring it up?”
Fuyumi looked down as if ashamed, “I just… I needed to know. I know that’s a dumb reason, and it really doesn’t matter anyway but… I just wanted to know. To know if you trusted me enough to tell me, Shouto.”
“Of course I trust you, Fu. You’ve always been there for me. You’re like my second mother.”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry, it was a selfish thing to ask you when you weren’t ready to talk about it. But I just had to.”
“I’m glad you did.” The feeling that came only after a good cry washed over Shouto in its fullest intensity, “I feel… fresh.”
“No matter what. I just need you to know this doesn’t change anything between us. You’re still my little brother.”
“I know, Fu.” He took his hand to brush over her hair, playing with it in the same way she did - curling it around his fingers then letting it fall off. “I’m glad I have such a cool big sister.”
A devious look crossed her face, “Was that an ice pun, mister.”
“Maybe…” he smirked.
She smiled, “There’s my funny brother.” A nickname she had gave him in middle school for his perpetually neutral tone. Fuyumi continued threading his multicoloured strands through the gaps of her fingers. “But, now you have to tell me.” she started, “Are there any boys in your class you think you might like?” her tone wasn’t teasing, it wasn’t said with the intent of causing embarrassment. She really just wanted to know what was happening in his life.
He suddenly felt bad for his plain, deflective responses to all her questions before.
“Maybe.” He answered, truthfully, “I’m not sure just yet if it’s the kind of liking you mean.”
“You’re blushing though.” She giggled. His right side did feel suddenly warmer. “What’s his name?”
Shouto turned from her and focused his gaze up to the ceiling. “Kaminari Denki.”
Her eyes perked in recognition of the name, “I think I saw him at your orientation. He’s the electricity guy, right?”
“That’s him.”
“He was cute.”
His sister's approval suddenly made him feel hot in the face again, “You think so?” Shouto asked her. He would be glad if he had conventional tastes for at least 1 gender.
“Definitely.” She answered, “What’s he like? I bet he’s funny. Just like you, my little comedian.” She hummed melodically.
Todoroki thought back, to his first day, to when they had first met, hero training and the blur which had made up his first 3 days of UA. He hadn’t really spoken to Kaminari one on one before, not properly anyway.
“He is. And loud. Confident.” Shouto started, “His quirk is like something else. Even despite its drawbacks, he’s so comfortable with it. It’s not just something that he can do, it’s truly a part of him.” The words seemed to pour out of him, unwavering. “He’s so… You know.” he paused, trying to find the word that described this horribly obtuse feeling he had towards the blonde, “I don’t know.” Which was an odd thing to admit, usually he was quite precise with his choice of words and his articulation.
“I know how you feel.” Fuyumi answered.
“Is it what people mean by a crush, do you think?” He asked, perhaps he would be embarrassed thinking about this later, but by now all walls had been broken down between the two of them. There was no judgement.
“A little bit. It’s just lust, for now. You can’t really know him very well after a month. But, you never know, it could turn into something deeper.”
Lust. It felt embarrassing to hear such a word used to describe him, especially from his own sister. Lust towards another guy. The idea of admitting that out loud seemed so unspeakable a mere hour ago.
“Don’t say that, I don’t even think he’s gay, Fu.” The amount of time that he seemed to spend hanging around Mineta and his silently going along with his perverted schemes pointed to him being straight as an arrow.
Fuyumi let out a melodic yawn, "Well, even if he isn't, shouldn't you try to become better friends with him anyways? Now’s your time to grow by experiencing these new things, Shou, by learning from other people.”
The implication hung in the air between them, that he ought to learn how to be at peace with his left side. A sore subject. But certainly in keeping with the night’s theme by bringing it up. Perhaps there were things to be learnt from his other classmates and their quirks. But he couldn’t see anyway that his classmates would ever be able to shake his position on that.
“You’ve spoken to him before, haven’t you? You’re not just doing your usual, zipped lips?”
Shouto pursed his lips, trying to come up with a response.
“Shouto…” She said a lace of annoyance apparent in her tone. He felt another lecture coming, but Fuyumi instead said, “That’s your mission tomorrow. Go talk to this guy.”
“What?”
“Your task tomorrow is to speak to this Kaminari. I’ll give you a special sticker.”
He did like her teacher stickers. “Okay, sure, for you.”
“No for you.” She tugged at his nightshirt which was still slightly damp from the melted ice, “I’m sorry if I’m pushing you too far, Shouto. But, as your older sister, it’s my job to make sure you live a little.”
He smirked at that. “No. It’s good… I’m… glad, that we had this talk. I would have just kept festering this inside of me until I burst.” That was true, in his life he had never done something without someone else egging him on. A part of him doubted that he would have continued his training as far as he had without Endeavor’s forcing him to, or his desperate desire to prove him wrong.
“We should go to sleep.” Fuyumi declared, rising from his bed. “Do you want me to tuck you in, Shouto?”
“I’m not 5 years old anymore, Fu.” He protested, “But, yes… I would. Please?”
She brought the covers over his body pressing them against his body, wrapping him snuggly in the duvet. “Good night, Shouto.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I love you very, very much. Thank you for opening up to me.”
“I love you too.” He said, sleep now threatening to take over, as he realised how physically and emotionally exhausted he really was. “I should be the one thanking you.” His eyes struggled to stay open as he spoke.
“Good night, remember your mission tomorrow.” She heard him say again as the world faded around him.
He slept soundly and without dreaming. In the security that, despite even his greatest shame, there was someone in his corner, someone who always had his back.