It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Todoroki was your friend. A good friend—you’d go so far as to call him your best friend. Together, the two of you were supposed to be able to overcome anything. After all, you’d already helped him settle things with his sorry-excuse-for-a-father, and he’d, in turn, helped you train to become the best hero you could be. You’d been admitted to, and subsequently graduated from UA together, with all of your fingers and most of your spirit intact (a miracle, given it’d been three years with Aizawa). Probationary periods at agencies, your first real hero interviews—the two of you had been inseparable through it all.
So what was different now? What’d changed?
It’s laughable really, how obvious the answer to that question is. If you didn’t already know it—if you were still blissfully unaware of the reason—then maybe you’d be outside with Todoroki, taking your proper place at his right side. Instead, you were hiding out in some bathroom that was way fancier than it needed to be, picking at strands of thread hanging off the edge of an armchair (something totally necessary in a bathroom) and praying that everything would stop for just an hour or two. Enough time for you to formulate a strategy to survive the afternoon.
A knock on the door reminds you that, unfortunately, you do not have a time manipulation quirk. Your breathing hitches.
“You in there?”
The voice that calls out from the other side is soft and cautious and thankfully, not Todoroki’s. You breathe, steeling yourself, and reluctantly undo the lock. Midoriya shoots you a tentative smile.
“Everyone’s asking where you are.” He says, reaching out towards you, then thinking better of it and returning his hand to his side. “You feeling alright?”
You just nod, knowing that Midoriya is smart enough to know that’s all you’re going to give him. You shoulder your way through the door—past him, out and away from your only place of refuge. You pretend not to notice the way his nervous smile drifts downward as he watches you go.
Midoriya really was too smart sometimes.
“Where were you?” There’s a hint of concern in Todoroki’s voice when you return to the table, taking your seat beside him.
“Restroom. The nerves were getting to me more than I thought they would.” You say plainly. A lie. You make sure to strategically ignore Midoriya as he pulls out his chair and sits in his place at the other end of the table. “I had to be alone for a little while.”
“But you’re better now, right?”
You laugh even though it feels like the action is singing your insides—like you’ve swallowed a match and how you’ve got an inferno raging deep in your belly.
“Yeah, I’m good now.”
Another lie. Good thing Todoroki was hardly paying attention to you, what with the person sitting at his left side, drawing his attention away every thirty seconds or so.
“Why?” You ask, desperate to savor what little time you have left with him. “Afraid I was brainstorming all sorts of ways to embarrass you? Finding stories to tell that would guarantee you a headline on at least three different news stations tomorrow?” Todoroki scoffs when he turns back to face you, rolling his eyes playfully. You forget where you are, what you’re doing, and snicker like old times. It feels nice.
“Is that why you sent Midoriya over to find me? So I wouldn’t think up something too scandalous?”
“You can say whatever you want,” Todoroki offers with pursed lips and a nostalgic look in his eyes, “just remember that for every story you tell, I have three more to leak to the press. Stories that paint you in a less-than-favorablelight.”
You cock your jaw to the side, feigning shock. “Are you threatening me, Shoto? On today of all days?”
But he’s already distracted again, mumbling something soft to the person beside him. You sigh, taking that as your cue to get things moving. Despite the throbbing, nauseating, downright painful heat coursing from your toes to your ears, you stand. You were ready for this, after all.
Your third lie today. One you only had to tell yourself.
When you clink your fork against the edge of your glass, the clamor around you dies down. Even Todoroki puts an end to his conversation, watching you with those familiar, mismatched eyes. He looks happy. Excited.
The stares don’t bother you as much as you’d thought they would. Maybe it was because you recognized a lot of the people here—schoolmates, fellow heroes, agency executives-but then again, about half of them are strangers. But that’s to be expected, you suppose.
“I have a thing or two to say about Shoto Todoroki,” you begin, “well, more than a thing or two, I guess. That’s what happens when you grow up together. You gather all of the dirt on a person, the things that reporters would pay millions to get their grubby little paws on.” Todoroki shoots you a dangerous look, just daring you to try and continue.
You pause. You tell yourself it’s for dramatic effect—a buildup—but really it’s because you can already feel yourself getting choked up. You’re not even at the hard part yet.
“Unfortunately, I’ve been specifically instructed not to share any of my best stories with you tonight.”
A rumbling awwwwww courses through the room and you force a laugh. Put on a show, like you’re supposed to. Fake it ‘till you make it.
“It’s not my fault guys—I really tried to convince him to let me. But like…he knows where I live. I can’t take any chances, so I hope you’ll forgive me just this once.”
You inhale, and much to your horror, it’s shaky. On top of it all, you feel winded, even after taking another “dramatic pause”, aka “a second to try not to break down in front of hundreds of people with cameras.” Still, you know stopping isn’t an option. The burning in your eyes would just have to try and figure its issues out by itself.
“What I can share with you is a much better story. A love story.”
As you’d expected, saying it out loud feels like a punch to the gut from Lemillion. A train car ramming into the space between your shoulder blades. A jackhammer going ham at the very center of your forehead.
Midoriya bites at his thumb as he watches, and you just know he’s planning out sixteen different ways to stop you from saying something that could ruin everything. You don’t blame him for worrying: he was Todoroki’s friend too. The last thing he wanted was for a scene to break out because you couldn’t just be strong—be a liar for just a little while longer. If only he knew that he had nothing to worry about.
You don’t even try to stop the tears from seeping down your cheeks when you begin to speak again.
“This is a story about two people that just belong together. People that saw what they wanted and leaped in headfirst—snatched it up without a moment of hesitation.”
And you smile. Because today was a great day. Because today, your best friend was getting married to someone he absolutely, wholeheartedly loved.
And that someone wasn’t you.