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Todoroki looked down at the treat Midoriya had handed him and sighed.
Why was he here, again?
“Todoroki, come on, you’re missing it!” Ochako, Midoriya’s girlfriend yelled from the crowd.
Oh yeah, he was here because Midoriya had invited him, and Shouto had reluctantly accepted.
He was trying to branch out, get to experience what was out there. All he’d ever known his entire life had been the four walls of the training room at his house, and the walls of said house of course, but outside of that, Todoroki was completely clueless as to what the world had to offer.
He felt a heavy weight on his shoulder and turned to look at the hand that laid there perplexed. He looked up and found Iida with an odd smile.
“I know this might be a little too much to handle, so feel free to let me know if I can be of any assistance.”
Shouto looked at the ground, ashamed. Was it really that obvious? That he’d never done something like this before? That he felt foreign to these types of set ups?
“Right,” Todoroki answered, his voice barely above a whisper.
It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable or that he wanted to leave. It was just…he’d never been to a school festival before.
These were Midoriya’s friends, not his, as much as they all liked to say they were, Todoroki wouldn’t have met them had it not been for Midoriya.
How he met him was still a mystery to Shouto. How managed to crack his walls and get him to open up the way he had about his upbringing was even more. He only knew that he’d caught him in a vulnerable moment.
A moment when he’d found a terrible truth. A moment when he’d felt his entire life had been nothing but a lie.
His mother, he’d come to find out that day, had been alive. Not dead and buried like he’d thought she had been his entire life.
His old man had confessed then that that night, when she’d poured scalding water on his left eye—the memory so hazy, Todoroki sometimes wondered if he’d dreamt it—she hadn’t died like his father had advised.
According to his father, instead of running out of the house and getting hit by a car, he’d taken her away and had her committed.
Shouto had left his home then and ran for who knew how long until he found himself at a shore. That’s where he met him.
Midoriya had been picking up trash, and not just any trash, but heavy, hard to move junk. Like appliances and machinery that had been left behind.
Shouto would later come to learn that he’d been doing that for days trying to clear out the shore, as part of training for his school club.
Todoroki had been trained for years by his father, as well as homeschooled so the name of the club was not familiar and neither did he remember it, but knew it was something similar to what his father had him learn, which was to fight.
He’d then taken it upon himself to help him train, and well here they were.
Shouto kept walking, sighing again. If he had to admit it, he was quite bored. He looked at the wrapping again, with the treat, that once again he’d forgotten what the name of it was. And he wasn’t quite hungry either.
Dull.
Everything around him was dull, without color, without…feeling.
He didn’t know when it got this way. He just knew it felt like it had been like this his entire life. As if he was a spectator walking behind a glass wall, unable to connect, or feel what everyone around him seemed to be feeling. The laughter, the excitement, even the air around him. He couldn’t feel anything. It was as if he was floating in the air, disconnected and with nowhere to go, letting whatever flow of energy this life had carry him where it may.
Shouto pushed his body against the many that were gathered around a small booth, where his ‘friends’ also were.
“Tsk, as if, who’d want to kiss ponytail, anyway, they should have put someone different up there.” Bakugo, another one of his new so-called friends, said to Midoriya’s girlfriend, who huffed loudly as if offended.
“Like who?” she protested.
Bakugo—who Todoroki still could not understand how Midoriya could keep such an obnoxious guy around—turned and smirked at the girl, “you for example.”
Uraraka’s cheeks turned bright red. Shouto placed himself in the middle of the two and glared at the blond dude. He did that from time to time, and Todoroki didn’t particularly like it, it felt disrespectful to his friend that another guy would openly act this way with Uraraka when she was already with Midoriya.
Bakugo turned and glared back, “what do you want half and half, make yourself useful for once and disappear.”
“Oh, Todoroki!” Uraraka’s face seemed to brighten, “of course! Why didn’t I think of you!”
Think of him, for what?
“Say, have you ever kissed anyone before?”
Shouto drew a blank.
He blinked several times, looking at the short girl as if she’d spoken another language. Which she might as well have.
To his right Bakugo erupted in laughter, “this freak, no way!”
“Kiss?” Shouto asked, again confused.
Uraraka bobbed her head, “M-hm.”
Finally, an image appeared. One from his memories. It was on the first day he’d met her, or when Midoriya had brought her to their training sessions.
He’d gotten there earlier than usual, trying to avoid his old man and his intrusive questions. He’d caught them in what Shouto could only describe as a compromising position, with Midoriya’s arms around her body and his mouth pressed to hers.
To say Shouto had been embarrassed beyond belief that day would be an understatement.
“Like what you and Midoriya do when you think I’m not looking?” Shouto asked.
Uraraka’s cheeks once again filled with color. “Err, yeah, sure.”
This seemed to sober Bakugo up.
He shook his head, “no, never.”
On her face, suddenly, almost an evil grin appeared. Shouto was a bit taken aback by it and felt the strange urge to run away.
His flight or fight response to dangerous situations triggered.
“Here, come with me.” Uraraka then grabbed him by the arm. Shouto could only blink at her hand on his skin as she pushed away the crowd and half dragged him, half walked him with purpose.
By the time Shouto realized he was being taken somewhere specifically, he was already there. Propped and pushed up several steps he stumbled a bit as his friend’s girlfriend pushed him into a booth where it was extremely dark and what was more, he wasn’t alone.
Momo fidget as the tears that began to sting her eyes suddenly were interrupted by the sounds of steps. Stumbling steps.
Warm hands wrapped around her shoulders as the person that had just walked in, seemed to almost trip over her.
And just as fast as those hands had wrapped around her, they snapped right back off as if they had been electrocuted.
“Sorry, I—” a deep, low, almost monotone voice said.
It was a boy.
A boy that was in her booth.
A kissing booth.
The reason why Momo had been almost to the verge of tears had been because no one had shown up. It had been hours. The festival was almost over and no one, not one soul had walked in through that curtain. At first, she’d been relieved, but then the crippling knowledge that people were not showing up for a reason had her thoughts spiraling down. Was she hated that much?
She’d been volunteered, only because she was almost forced to. She had a hard time telling her classmates no, when all of them voted her in. Yet, no one wanted to kiss her. It felt as if the entire scheme had been set up to only humiliate her.
Sure, she tended to come across as a know it all. Sure, she had more money than anyone in this school, and was dropped off by a chauffeur. Sure, she was a bit bossy, and was also top of her class, and in the student council. So, what?
Why were these reasons to despise her to such degree?
She just wanted to fit in. To have friends and take advantage of what her school had to offer. Not to mention help others. And to help others it meant she always had to be prepared to answer any questions, hence, the know it all part.
She could practically hear Kyoka stating that it was because she was just too nice.
“It’s okay.” She answered. There was silence as the guy in front of her sounded as if he was shifting on his feet.
Momo cleared her throat, “shall we?”
The guy then cleared his throat too. She couldn’t really see him. She could make out the silhouette of his clothes—a button down, rolled up sleeves up to the elbows, jeans and sneakers. The button down seemed to be open at the front, she noticed as she squinted her eyes to try and get a better look at his face. However, she still could not make out any specific features, except maybe that his hair was a bit long.
But that haircut wasn’t uncommon at all. It could be anyone from her school, or a perfect stranger.
Momo’s anxiety began to surface as the possibility of her kissing someone that was not a student appeared.
“First, I gotta ask,” for her sake, Momo said, “are you a high school student?”
“Technically, I just don’t go to this school.” The guy answered flatly.
“Oh, okay.” She allowed her shoulders to relax.
“So, shall we get to it then?” Momo asked, trying to keep her hands from fidgeting like they usually would when she was nervous.
“On with what?” Shouto had to ask, because he was honestly very confused.
What was he doing here?
What was he supposed to do here, with this girl, in the dark?
Why had Uraraka put him in this position without at least giving him some type of information?
There was a moment of silence, and Shouto worried that he might have made a wrong move by asking that.
“Well, you are in a kissing booth, you know.”
Kissing booth…?
Shouto’s eyes grew big in the darkness, where it was dark enough that he could not make out the girl’s face, only the outline of her clothes and her hair.
He then blinked several times as the pieces of information began to come together.
Uraraka asking if he’d ever kissed anyone before. Her pushing him in here suddenly without warning or saying what this was about.
He would have obviously refused had he known.
The image of what that looked like, from his friend and his girlfriend, then popped into his mind.
His eyes grew bigger.
He was supposed to do that? With her?
Why?
How?
Well, he knew how, he supposed, but…WHY?
It felt off. The action had seemed so…intimate…so much so that he’d been embarrassed he’d caught them that one day, and then after every time they would kiss while they thought he wasn’t looking, he’d feel his face get hot for some reason.
He didn’t know much about the subject of romance but was sure this was not how it was supposed to go.
He had no time, however, to voice these concerns as the heat of another body pressed itself to his. The softness of what he could only describe as round pillows made their presences known making his senses and brain halt and recircuit.
And then soft, plum lips were on top of his, molding themselves to the shape of his own. Warm, with a hint of a zap, perhaps electricity, was how he’d describe it, as he felt warm skin go around his neck.
The entire time, Shouto’s eyes remained open, unable to fully understand what was happening for there was so much he was feeling.
For the first time. He was feeling. Everything. As if his senses, his skin had suddenly turned into a live wire. Aware of every touch, every movement the girl made as she then opened her mouth and with it his.
His own lips followed unsure, but curious.
She’d never kissed anyone before.
This was her first kiss and she had no idea if she was doing it right. She’d pressed her lips against his and then as he seemed to stiffen and convinced that she was doing this entirely wrong, opened her lips like people did in the movies.
It felt awkward and wrong, but he seemed to be following her lead. She kept her eyes closed, scared that she might find him with his eyes open and looking at her like the novice she was. Her hands had wrapped around his neck, again, only because that was what girls did in the books she’d read.
She didn’t know how to stop though. How did people stop kissing, what was considered a considerate amount of kissing? How long was a kiss supposed to last?
She had no idea.
And then Momo felt warmth at her waist, fingers landed there, hesitantly at first, and then once there was no protest from her, more securely. Sure, and firm, something close to electricity passed through those fingers, through her shirt onto her skin, down her spine, making her almost shiver.
Suddenly, the soft yet firm lips that she was currently trying to accommodate with did not feel so awkward. Like an instinct, she decided to wrap them with her own, and this made the feeling more…profound and easy.
There was a loud buzz, one that startled both teens apart making them almost jump out of their skin. At least where Momo was concerned. Her hand flew immediately to her chest as her heart felt it would hammer itself out of it. Her breathing also was uneven as she took long gulfs of air. Now, was this due to the loud buzzer or the action occurring before it, she did not know.
“I think that means my time is over.” The boy announced.
She laughed nervously and tried for her voice not to sound as flustered as she felt. Especially when he’d sounded so together. “Yeah, I think so.”
The boy hummed. “I’ll be on my way, then.”
And just like that, he was gone.
Shouto walked down the steps in a daze. His hand on his lips briefly as he recalled the way the girl’s had felt, and moved.
More importantly, how they’d felt though.
She had been tall, almost his height.
He then dropped his hand to stare at it. His other one still in the depths of his pocket.
He flexed his fingers in front of him, recalling with accuracy how the curve of her waist had felt against them.
He’d only been mirroring Midoriya, trying to do his best to not appear as inexperienced as he was.
“Oh Todoroki, there you are. Where did you go?” Midoriya’s voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.
Shouto placed the hand he’d been marveling over back inside his pocket and pressed his lips together. Okay No matter how close he was to the guy, he felt this he wanted to keep to himself.
“I got bored,” he answered, truthfully, because he had been bored.
“Oh, sorry, for leaving you by yourself. I had something I needed to do before I was free to walk around,” Midoriya said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Shouto hummed, “It’s okay. Your girlfriend helped.” His eyes then landed on the short girl who was practically jumping as she made her way to him and Midoriya.
His eyes narrowed, how to shut her up about it now?
“Todoroki!” She sang, “How did it go?” She wiggled her eyebrows.
Shouto gave her a deadpan face, “Okay, I guess.”
She frowned, “Only okay? That was—”
“Uncalled for.” Shouto cut her off, he then narrowed his eyes further, “unnecessary.”
“You didn’t go through it did you?” she pouted.
“It’s no one's business whether I did or not. I would like it to stay that way, please.” He looked ahead and away as he said this, hoping he got the message across to her that he’d like for her to not say anything about it.
She sighed heavily, “Fine, Deku,” She turned to her boyfriend, “I’m hungry, I wanted to go to the food stands but Bakugo didn’t want to go with me. Would you, please?”
Shouto observed them from the corner of his eye. Midoriya looked back and forth between him and Uraraka, a bit confused. “Of course, just lead the way.”
Flashbacks.
Shouto was familiar with them. He had them all the time. Especially after finding out about his mother. They weren’t as frequent now that he’d finally spoken to her, but they still happened from time to time.
However, now they were not just about his childhood. They were also, and mostly about the experience he’d just had.
The kiss.
They happened more than he’d like. While brushing his teeth. While putting away laundry, specifically the clothes he’d been wearing that day. And then while training with Midoriya or hanging out with his girlfriend there.
She’d kept her mouth shut, like he’d asked, to which he was thankful. The last thing he needed was everyone questioning or making fun of him.
Not that he cared, but just thinking about having to go through all that was exhausting.
Shouto rolled the squared eraser in his hand as he leaned back in his desk at home and tried to pay attention to yet another lecture.
He was homeschooled.
Not for long, though. His father had agreed to finally let him attend a public school, and when the old man asked which one he’d like to go to, he’d said Midoriya’s school without hesitation.
He had people there and could acclimate easier.
He sighed.
No, this had nothing to do with wanting to see her again. He didn’t even know what she looked like. Only that she was, well…curvy, tall and had really long hair. He knew this because at some point his fingers had brushed her hair on her back.
Yet, if he got to know who she was, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, he supposed. At least know what she looked like.
He wouldn’t go as far as pursuing the type of relationship Midoriya had with Uraraka. Shouto doubted he was even fit for such a thing, but he could at least get to know her.