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Todoroki Shouto has his priorities in order.
At the very top of his list is doing well in school. If he does well in school, he will be a better hero, which is his ultimate goal. So he works out daily and does his homework on time even when it puts him to sleep, and it keeps him stabilized. If he does what he needs to do, then he can function properly when he's not working.
A few steps below on the list is being a good friend. This is a relatively new addition, since in middle school he didn't have any friends, but his new UA classmates are helpful with that one. Being a good friend means listening when other people talk. Being a good friend means inputting his own opinions every so often. Most of all, being a good friend is being around when one of his friends needs him, and he's progressively getting better at that.
Being a good son, the next priority, is also pretty new. To his mother, mind you. He visits her when he can, and he tries not to dwell on the past or judge his mother for crying when she sees him, which happens from time to time. Being a good son means bringing flowers to her when he stops by, and picking up the phone when she calls, and telling her about his week even when he has nothing to say. Being a good son to his mother might be the hardest item on the list, but he's trying his best.
Being a good son to his father, on the other hand, is quite easy: not blocking him on messages and staying in school. Manageable. Hardly a task at all.
These three things take up so much of his time and energy, he doesn't have the capacity to think of anything else. When he's not in class, he's doing his homework or studying (usually with Midoriya's help). When he's not studying, he's with his friends. And when he's not with his friends, he's with his mother.
So when Aizawa calls him over at the end of class to talk about clubs of all things, Todoroki doesn't know where to start.
"Todoroki, I noticed you didn't sign up for any extracurriculars," Aizawa says, handing him a flier of the clubs UA offers. "You're the only one left in the class without one."
"I didn't know it was required," Todoroki blinks, looking over the paper distractedly. "Which one should I join?" He wants to ask which will take up the least amount of effort, but he feels that will only make the man upset, so he keeps his mouth shut.
"That's for you to decide." When Todoroki continues to stare blankly, the man sighs. "Bakugou, can you please help him find a club?"
The blond, who had been copying notes at his desk, opens his mouth to argue. Despite Icy Hot and the rest of their class insisting that the two of them are friends, he's still iffy about that point, and he's definitely not the boy's babysitter. Then, looking from the haggard Aizawa to the deer-in-headlights-eyed Todoroki, he shuts his mouth with a huff. "Alright, Icy Hot. Let's find you a personality." If he gets it done quickly enough, he might not even have to mess up his schedule.
"I don't need a personality, though. I just need an extracurricular."
Bakugou looks towards Aizawa, pleading with his eyes not to make him do this, but Aizawa only picks up his sleeping bag and says, "I'll leave you two to it." As soon as the door shuts behind him, Bakugou plucks the flier from Todoroki's hands.
"You have a lot of choices," he says, scanning the sheet. "Alright Icy Hot, do you want to join a sports club, a crafts club, an educational club, or something else?" He's personally in an array of them, but he doesn't know what the other boy is interested in. Hell, he doesn't know if he's interested in anything.
Todoroki blinks at him. "I'm not sure," he says, proving Bakugou's point exactly. "I'll probably be best in a sports club, since we do so much exercise in class anyway."
Bakugou looks at his empty lost boy looking eyes and mentally facepalms. "Fuck it, we'll try all of them."
"Every single club?" Todoroki asks worriedly. He should have picked one at random, or asked Midoriya to join his quirk analytics club. Now he's going to have to spend even more time choosing something that he didn't even want to attend.
"Come on, don't give me that look," Bakugou says, rolling his eyes. "We'll give them a quick run through, then at the end you'll make your pick. You don't want to sign up for something shitty like the quirk analytics club and then be stuck there for a whole year."
"I may be wrong, but aren't you a member of the quirk analytics club?"
"Only so that Deku doesn't get ahead of me. Trust me, it's boring as fuck."
"I'll take your word for it." He furrows his brows. "I don't need an extracurricular."
"Gods above, Icy Hot, you're the most depressing person I've ever talked to. Get out of your dorm room for once. Live a little." He doesn't get people who just exist without actually engaging in things. If you're going to live in this world, you should make it your bitch. "Not every club meets on the same day, so we'll check out the ones that meet today, then tomorrow do the same, until we've been through all of them. Got it?"
"If I don't have a choice," Todoroki mopes, and Bakugou rolls his eyes again.
"Come on, bitch, let's go."
Their first stop is Bakugou's club of the day: volleyball club.
"I didn't know you play volleyball," Todoroki says, following him to one of the training rooms that had been repurposed with a net. "I would've thought you'd play a sport with less teamwork and more attacking people."
"Shut the fuck up. Aizawa sensei told me to try it and I kick ass at it. Plus I get to spike balls into people's faces." He rubs his hands together gleefully. "Plus-"
"You're here, miscreant?" a haughty voice from inside calls, and they both enter to see Monoma standing in the middle of the room, spinning a volleyball in his hands. "I was hoping you had died in the middle of the night. Oh, and you brought an equally irritating friend. How nauseating."
"I like spiking the ball into his face best of all," Bakugou mutters under his breath. Then, out loud, "The only one who's gonna die here is you, choking on the foot I shove up your ass. I'm showing Icy Hot all the clubs, but I doubt he'll want to join this one now that he knows you're here."
"Good. The less people from class 2-Abhorrent, the better."
"So you sleep with a thesaurus instead of sleeping with a human. That makes sense."
"Drop dead."
"Yes, I win," Bakugou says, pumping his fist. "Okay, we're just gonna stay for a few minutes and then head out. You can handle the first years alone, right asshat?"
"Anyone's more tolerable than you," Monoma replies, throwing a ball at his head. Bakugou receives it easily, then bumps it in Todoroki's direction. He catches it, looking up at him.
"How many more members are there?" he asks.
"Good amount. Ten, fifteen maybe. We only play with each other so we need a lot of people. Plus most of them aren't from the hero course." He checks the time. "We're early, so they won't be here for a bit. But you get the drift of it."
"Yes." They pass the ball between themselves, occasionally hitting it to Monoma to keep things lively. Todoroki is rusty, having not played volleyball since middle school, but his natural athleticism makes up for it.
"So, volleyball?" Bakugou finally asks, catching the ball and spinning it.
"I think I want to see more clubs," Todoroki says, surprising himself. Before entering the volleyball room, he had set his mind to join it, just to save time. But now that he's seen one club, oddly enough, he wants to experience more.
"Whatever you say. We're going to the chess club next."
"I- okay."
Bakugou isn't part of the chess club, and for good reason: shit's boring.
"Todoroki, Bakugou, welcome," Iida says, motioning for them to enter the library. Across from him sits Shishida from class 2-B, and he looks engrossed in the board in front of him. "Are you here to play a game?"
"No," Todoroki says, at the same time that Bakugou says, "Obviously." Not waiting for the other boy's protest, Bakugou grabs a table and starts setting up, sneaking peeks over at Iida's board to make sure he's doing it right.
"Are you a chess fan?" Todoroki asks, sitting across from him resignedly. Chess is something that he never wished to learn, and if an extracurricular is supposed to incite passion in him, he doesn't think he will find that here.
"Not at all," Bakugou says, setting up his pieces for him. "But who knows? Maybe boring shit like this will give you meaning or whatever. Fill your empty ass head."
"Bakugou, please watch your language," Iida says, not looking up from his own board. "And if you're going to insult chess, then perhaps you shouldn't be here."
"Alright, prez, don't get your panties in a twist. I'll be quiet." He stares at the board. "Do you know how to play this?"
"No."
"Jesus Christ. Alright, I'll explain how the pieces move, and then we'll try it."
He spends a few minutes explaining the rules of the game, how the pieces move, and the jargon for all of it as best as he can remember. Iida and Shishida insert their own "fun" facts and favorite tactics every so often, which only confuses Todoroki more. He gives up entirely at the four move checkmate.
"I truly don't enjoy this game," he says, putting the pieces back in the box one by one. "I've now experienced it, and I'm a bigger person for it. However, it's not for me."
"Thank god," Bakugou says, swiping the rest of the pieces into the box. "If you started wearing glasses then I'd have to call the cops."
"Thank you for having us," Todoroki says to the two bespectacled chess players.
"Thank you for being respectful," Shishida says, giving Bakugou a sideways look. He glares back, flipping him the bird. Shishida sniffs. Iida sighs. Todoroki yawns.
"That was fuckin' awful," Bakugou says as they leave. "Whatever's next, I don't care. Anything's better than this."
Todoroki looks over the clubs sheet, now marked up with days of the week. "Art club?"
Bakugou sucks air through his teeth. "Let's skip it."
"But what if art is my true passion and I miss out on it? What if I never discover this passion because we skip it right now?" In reality, he's only curious as to why Bakugou wants to skip over it. But who knows? Maybe his latent talents lie in crafts.
They enter the art room - another classroom, this one with long tables and bins of supplies - and sit down.
"Bakugou, this is unexpected," Ibara says, spreading her arms wide. "I assumed after last time that you would never return. What a pleasant surprise!"
"What happened last time?" Todoroki asks.
"Nothing happened," Bakugou interrupts. "I got bored of this shit and left."
"More like you tried to paint something, failed miserably, and then almost started a fire blowing it up," Kaminari says, waving from a table a few feet over. "I'm pretty sure he was banned from joining."
"I wasn't banned, I left," Bakugou yelled, then clenched his jaw. "Whatever. I'm not here for me. This shit is boring. Icy Hot's gonna check out the club."
"Kaminari, I didn't know you're artistic," Todoroki says, sitting down at his table. "Can I see what you're working on?"
Kaminari grins. "Alright, but don't blame me when your brain explodes from how good it is." He flips over his paper, sliding it to Todoroki so he can see.
"It's... huh." Todoroki doesn't exactly know what he's looking at. Lots of colors, that much he can tell. "Abstract, right?" He had been nervous to try art in front of the other students in the art club, but now he thinks he will be alright if he joins.
"Ha! You suck, Dunce Face," Bakugou cackles, looking over Todoroki's shoulder. "What is this, kindergarten crayon class?"
"You wouldn't get it," Kaminari says dismissively. "It's a representation of the chaos in my mind and heart. Too deep for you to understand."
"Fuck off, there's no way that Icy Hot will want to join this club with you here."
"Let's let him try it out." Kaminari points to the supply bins. "Paper's on the shelf, coloring tools are there. Grab whatever looks nice and try making something."
"Okay." Todoroki grabs a sheet of paper, then deliberates over the coloring supplies - why are there so many? - before picking colored pencils. They look simple enough. Then he sat back down and got to work. He doesn't know exactly what he wanted to draw, but he figures that maybe Kaminari's artistic spirit will spread to him through osmosis.
"What the hell are you making?" Bakugou asks, sitting down next to him. He has a paper and a pair of scissors in his hands, and he seems to be making some sort of elaborate snowflake. "Wait, I see it. It's fire. What a fucking surprise."
"You wouldn't understand," Todoroki says, shielding his paper. "It's the chaos of my mind and soul-"
"Your issues are so transparent that you don't need art to express them. We can all see them."
"Don't dampen my spirit." He adds more red, then orange. It looks like something a third grader could make. But his hand is drawn to the paper time and time again, adding more layers to the picture. He closes his eyes, feeling the fire burning around him, the heat closing him in-
"Todoroki, this is really nice!" Ibara says, joining their group. "I truly feel the flames burning from the paper. That's the power of strong art."
"No, it's the power of his quirk going haywire," Bakugou smirks, pointing to Todoroki's smoking hand and the singed end of his picture. The other boy quickly puts it out, rubbing his neck sheepishly.
"Sorry." He hadn't realized just how many of his emotions he had been allowing to pour out. "I think I enjoy art, but it may be too dangerous for me. Thank you for having me."
"Thank you for stopping by," Ibara says, and Kaminari calls, "Come back soon!"
"Hey, why are you being so nice to him? He almost burned down the place too!"
"Yeah, but you did it on purpose."
"Fuck you to pieces."
"Love you too, Kacchan."
The two of them leave, and Bakugou shakes his head. "I hate artists."
"Mmm." Todoroki is looking over the flier again. "So all that's left for today is the softball club, the fashion club, the community service club, the anime club, and the birdwatching club."
"There's a birdwatching club?"
"I guess."
They make quick time of the remaining clubs. The softball club, much like the volleyball club, doesn't do much for Todoroki. The fashion club isn't his scene either, although Ashido readily offers him the role of model should he decide to join. The community service club is nice, and he puts it down as a maybe. The anime club is odd, although the people there are kind. And as for the birdwatching club...
"Welcome," Sero says, beckoning them into his dorm room. "This is birdwatching."
"You birdwatch from here?" Todoroki asks, looking for binoculars or telescopes or any type of equipment.
"Yes. See, there's the bird-" he points to Tokoyami, who's sitting on the floor, "-and we will be watching a movie. Thus, birdwatching."
"Aren't you supposed to be a hard worker or something?" Bakugou asks Tokoyami, who is averting his eyes.
"I too enjoy a break every so often," he says in an undertone. "Hero training leaves little time for pursuing one's outside interests."
In Todoroki's eyes, this is the ideal club for him. He excels at sitting and watching movies, especially with fewer people, and this will make Aizawa happy. He'll even sit through whatever black and white goth film the two of them will undoubtedly watch. But before he can agree and take his place on the carpet, Bakugou intercedes.
"Nah, he's not joining this fake ass club," he says, pulling Todoroki away. "Your lazy ass-ness is contagious. You wanted to do something that brings you passion, right Icy Hot?"
"I did, I suppose." Although right now he'd like nothing better than to forget the idea of passion and sit in darkness for two hours. He stares mournfully at the bucket of popcorn beside Tokoyami. "But-"
"So we're leaving. Thanks for the time, e-boys." He pulls Todoroki by his collar towards the door, and he has no choice but to come along.
"Your loss," Sero says, closing the door behind him.
"You didn't give him a chance to fully explain the club," Todoroki says, glancing backwards.
"Fuck off."
They walk back to the common room, and Bakugou checks the time.
"I'm wiped," he says. "I'm gonna go to sleep, fuck dinner. We can pick this up tomorrow, same time. 'Night."
"Good night," Todoroki replies, watching him walk off to his dorm room. He wonders when he first became encapsulated within Bakugou's control-freakiness, and when he learned to just accept it.
He stops by the dinner hall and gets dinner for two. He's sure Bakugou will be hungry in the morning, and a hungry Bakugou is even more difficult than a regular Bakugou. That's what friends do, right? They keep each other going and make each other their best selves. He adds extra hot sauce so Bakugou won't call him a pussy, then wraps it up and saves it for him for tomorrow.
"Which clubs are we visiting today?" Todoroki asks the next day, hovering near Bakugou's desk.
"I have track today, and then we'll also stop by soccer, choir, dance, and drama."
"Alright." He doesn't try to argue that he's never been able to sing, and his acting skills are limited to inanimate objects. If Bakugou says they're visiting all of the clubs, then they're visiting all of the clubs.
The track club meets outside, and Todoroki changes quickly to a t shirt and sweatpants.
"I'm surprised Iida isn't here," he says, joining Bakugou by the starting line.
"That'd be cheap," he says. "No quirks allowed here, and since Iida can't shut his off, he'd have an unfair advantage."
"And Bakugou really wouldn't appreciate that," a voice says right next to Todoroki's ear, and he jumps. "Sorry for startling you. I should've walked louder."
"No, it's alright, Hagakure," he says, eyes finally focusing on a headband floating a few inches below eye level. "You're in this club?"
"Yeah, I can use the extra training."
Todoroki wants to refute this, but he realizes quickly that it would be baseless, so he merely says, "I'm here visiting."
The track club runs a couple of laps, and Todoroki lets his mind go blank like he always does when he's training. He had picked up the habit back at home, and it helps him get through long exercise sessions when his bones are already weary and his muscles scream out in agony.
"I don't think this is for me," he says before Bakugou can ask. "It doesn't bring me joy."
"Whatever you say," Bakugou says, and they walk off. No arguing, no telling him to try it again and maybe he'll like it. Just walking off.
Soccer club isn't notable, save for watching Mineta get slammed in the head by a stray ball. Bakugou seems to enjoy it, but Todoroki can just see that in hero training, so it isn't anything special.
Choir is... an interesting experience.
"Bakugou, you finally decided to join!" Komori exclaims the second they walk in. "We've already started a new arrangement but I'm sure we can squeeze you in somewhere." Her eyes flicker over Todoroki, and she asks, somewhat more controlled, "Are you looking to join too?"
"Neither of us are joining," Bakugou says, scuffing his sneakers. His ears, Todoroki can see, are turning a dangerous shade of red.
"Is Bakugou a good singer?" Todoroki asks her, himself forgotten.
Komori nods emphatically. "He has a really good range," she says. "I wanted him to join when the club was first formed, but he turned it down immediately. And we barely have any male singers in the choir, so we're looking to take whoever will join."
Todoroki side-eyes Bakugou, whose hands are visibly smoking. The fact that he's not saying anything feels even more dangerous than if he was yelling. "Unfortunately," he says, for everyone in the room's safety, "we aren't interesting in joining. Thank you for the offer, though." He pulls Bakugou out by his elbow before he erupts.
"Do I want to know?" he asks when they're in the hallway again.
"Do you like having working legs?" Bakugou asks, cracking his knuckles.
"Yes."
"Then no, you don't want to know."
"Noted."
Dance class is a quick skip, although Ashido once again tries to hook him into it.
"You know, all the best athletes swear by dancing for their coordination," she says, wiggling her eyebrows. "And some pro heroes too."
Todoroki considers it. "Let me fact check this," he says, calling his mentor on the phone. The man picks up almost immediately, which is strange for the number two hero and proves what his father is always complaining about: Hawks really does have too much free time.
"What's up, little Todoroki?" he asks. "You usually don't call during school hours. Or at all."
"I have a question related to hero work, Hawks," he says, putting him on speaker while Ashido mouths Is that Hawks? The Hawks? and inches closer. "Do pro heroes-" He huffs, rubbing his temple. Now that he's given it a second of thought, the question embarrasses him. Bakugou, meanwhile, has recovered enough from choir club enough to leer at him.
"Do pro heroes what?" If he didn't know better, he would think Hawks is already laughing at him too. He does seem to have a talent for reading between the lines.
"Do pro heroes... dance?" Todoroki finishes, hissing air between his teeth. "As part of their training."
He hears a loud clicking sound from the other end of the phone, and it takes him a second to realize that Hawks is laughing. Well, dying of laughter would be more accurate.
"I should've known this day would come," he says once he catches his breath. "Somehow, deep in my soul. I'm gonna send you a picture, which we'll both immediately delete after you see it, and you'll have an answer to your question."
Todoroki waits a second for the picture to send, and the three of them lean over his phone, taking in the image. Todoroki can hardly process what he's seeing. Endeavor. Teenage Endeavor.
Tights. Ballet flats.
Murderous expression.
"How did you get this?" he breathes, deleting the picture before it haunts his nightmares. Who is he kidding, it's already far too late. It might've even been better to keep the picture, just so he could have a visual aid for his therapy session this week.
"Don't ask too many questions, junior," Hawks replies. "This conversation never happened, you hear? I didn't survive this long to die by Endeavor's hands."
"What conversation?" Todoroki says, then hangs up the phone. His stomach is churning, and he feels lightheaded. He turns to Ashido decisively. "I will not be joining the dance club."
"I wouldn't expect you to," she says, voice hushed. "I don't know whether to laugh or cry."
"I wish I had that picture," Bakugou says, grinning from ear to ear. "I would set it as my phone background and computer background. I'd get it framed for my dorm room. I'd tattoo it on my fucking leg."
"Bakugou, I know you get joy from the pain of other people, but please not now," Todoroki hisses. "I don't want to visit the drama club. I will now go to my dorm and hopefully die in my sleep."
"Shame you're missing out on the acting club since you're acting like a real fucking drama queen right now, but whatever," Bakugou says. "I'm gonna go too. Thanks for the laugh."
Todoroki doesn't glorify that with a response.
"This is the working out club," Bakugou says the next day, throwing out his arms. "Home to muscleheads and workaholics." The muscleheads and workaholics in question include Kirishima, Tetsutetsu, Kendou, Shouji, Shinsou, Iida, Midoriya, and Uraraka. The line between the two muscleheads and workaholics is fuzzy.
"Which category do you fall into?" Todoroki asks.
"Both," Bakugou and Kirishima say at the same time, and the latter slaps him on the back.
"Bakugou likes to spend half the time working out and the other half correcting our form," Uraraka says. "He doesn't yell too much though so we let him stay."
"Don't talk like you're the president of the club," Bakugou says. "You can't kick me out."
"I know, but he can." She jabs a thumb at Shinsou, who looks like he regrets standing anywhere near their argument. "President, show this bitch who's boss!"
"I just wanted to work out during club time," Shinsou says, meeting Todoroki's eyes imploringly. "I just asked Aizawa for gym privileges. And everyone else showed up later. I didn't ask for any of this."
"So you're saying I can make my own club?"
"Sure," Bakugou says, his eyes daring him to continue. "And what club would that be?"
"The visiting home club?" He gets a head shake in response, and he sighs. "I thought so." He heads onto an exercise machine, feeling weird considering he had just been here an hour ago to do training himself. Calling it a club activity seems a little bit performative.
"That's because this isn't a club," Shinsou sighs when he points this out. "I don't consider it my club anyway."
"Oh? Then which club are you a part of?" Todoroki asks.
"Quirk analysis club. It's actually meeting right after this one."
"I had no idea you were interested in quirk analysis."
Shinsou smirks, and it unnerves Todoroki. "I'm not. But that's not the fun part of the club. You have to be there for it."
"I'll be there." There's a bad feeling in his stomach, but he was planning on going there anyway. There's no way that a club like quirk analysis can be ominous in nature, right? It's Midoriya's club, after all, and there's nothing scary about Midoriya.
At least, that's what he thinks now.
"Wrong, Kacchan, you can clearly see that his blood type isn't compatible with that type of quirk exception!"
"Fuck you, how was I supposed to know what his blood type is? I don't have it memorized like a fuckin' creep. Fine, if it's not with his blood then can it be related to his bone density?"
"Do you hear yourself? Bone density isn't anywhere near related to the circulatory system! Maybe if we were talking about strength quirks then you would be even a little bit right, but unless your hearing aids are off, you're out of your mind!"
Todoroki stays presses against the wall next to Shinsou, looking rapidly between the feuding boys. The four of them are the only ones in the clubroom, although Shinsou explained to him earlier that there used to be more members, before it devolved into... this.
"It's stress relief for both of them, I think," he says, not bothering to whisper since it's obvious that neither Bakugou nor Midoriya can hear them. "Instead of fighting with their fists, they yell at each other for forty five minutes once a week about stuff that no one else cares about."
"And you enjoy this?" Todoroki hasn't untensed once since entering the room. He would've expected Shinsou to want to join a quieter club, but the other boy is leaning forward in anticipation.
"Very much. It's like watching a reality show with all of the dramatic bits. Sometimes I make a game of seeing which one of them runs out of breath first. Usually it's Midoriya, but Bakugou has more practice yelling, so he has an advantage."
Bakugou is now standing on a desk, which wobbles dangerously below him, and Midoriya has broken a chair with his bare hands. The only way that Todoroki knows that it's actually him and not an angry impostor is that he apologizes to the chair bits before waving a torn off leg angrily.
"They disproved that fifteen years ago. I swear, why are you in this club if you don't know anything?" he shouts.
"Because you think you're a fact god and someone has to stand up to that," Bakugou yells back. "I read my shit, I know that the article that disproved that theory was biased, and that's why they never changed the status in the quirk directory. Don't try to bullshit me."
"Oh shit," Shinsou mumbles to himself. "Things are starting to heat up."
"Now they're starting to heat up?"
"Shhh, this is the good part. You can see in Midoriya's eyes that he wasn't prepared for that."
"Aren't you Midoriya's friend?"
"Of course, but in here, he's just another character."
"Mmhm." Todoroki stands up, and Shinsou doesn't look over as he asks, "Where are you going?"
"I need some air. If Bakugou asks," which he doubts he will, "then tell him I went back to my dorm."
"Got it." Shinsou waves aimlessly as he leaves, shutting the door securely behind him. Praise UA and their soundproof doors, because Todoroki is free from the argument at last as he heads towards the elevator. Bakugou was also supposed to show him two more clubs, but he doesn't have the energy for them now. Quite frankly, he's spent for the day.
"I think hobbies are overrated," he says as soon as his therapist picks up the phone.
"What makes you say that?" she asks, even though he already told her the gist of Bakugou's plan to "get him a personality."
"I'm trying a lot of different clubs, but I don't feel attached to any of them. I don't think I was made for pleasures." It's a common thought of his, that since he was bred for hero work, like a robot, he can't do anything else but hero work. He can barely pass as a functional human being in society; how is he supposed to let himself go and actually be one?
"That isn't true, Shouto. You told me that you remember being passionate about heroes as a child. It was your training that forced you to repress your passion, but it doesn't mean that you never had it."
"I don't have the capacity for it anymore." This much he's certain about. He gets a warm satisfaction from hero work now, and that's as much as he can hope from himself. He's lucky enough that he enjoys that much now; if he was stuck training as emptily as he did in middle school, he doesn't know what he would do.
"You shouldn't resign yourself to thinking like that. You tried, what, ten clubs? Fifteen? Even if you don't find what you're looking for in UA, that doesn't mean you won't find it elsewhere."
But if not here, the first place he ever felt like he belongs, then where?
"You're right," he says to end the conversation. "I will keep that in mind. Thank you."
"I'll see you at our usual session," she says, and he hangs up the phone. He feels slightly better, although not by much. Knowing that he's thinking irrationally more often than not can't stop the thoughts on its own. Self awareness can only get him so far.
A sudden knock on his door, harsh against his ears, snaps him out of his head.
"Did you think you could run away while I was distracted, Icy Hot?" Bakugou rasps, voice hoarse. "Come on, we're almost done for the day. I'll even let you skip the debate club, since I doubt you'll like that."
"I thought that was the debate club."
He can almost hear Bakugou's eye roll through the door. "The official debate club is a lot more civilized, but that just makes it boring. Come on, cooking club should be lowkey."
It's not a true apology for Todoroki's stress, but it's the best he's going to get. He opens his door slowly, then follows an impatient Bakugou down the hallway in his slippers.
"I wanted to ask this earlier, but why are you in so many clubs?" Todoroki asks. "Just looking at your schedule tires me."
"It's not tiring for me. Competing in these clubs fuels me." Up until eight pm, when Bakugou crashes in bed and can't be woken up until his alarm at 6, but that's neither here nor there.
"Because you have to be the best?"
"I am the best. There's a difference."
A pause. "You know, I have a fantastic therapist who I could-"
"So do I, Icy Hot. And he's a thousand times better than your therapist."
"..."
"That was a joke, stop texting your therapist."
"This is the cooking and baking club," Satou says, gesturing to the kitchen. "It's not much, but UA pays for our ingredients, and we get the kitchen to ourselves for an hour. There are some cookbooks over there if you want to try something."
"Thank you," Todoroki says, grabbing a book at random. He's never truly cooked for himself; at home, his food was premade for him, and at UA he buys it from Lunch Rush. After flipping through for a minute, he settles on a recipe for noodles and gets to work.
"Do you know what you're doing?" Bakugou asks, making himself comfortable in the adjacent common room.
"More or less," Todoroki lies. It can't be that difficult, can it? The instructions are clear, and the UA kitchen is fully stocked.
He sets a pot of water to boil and starts on his pasta dough, kneading it with his hands. Across the kitchen, he can see Satou working on some kind of pastry, icing it with a steady hand. He turns back to his workspace and continues to follow the recipe to the letter. He likes having everything laid out for him, ready to catch him if he slips. He likes the thrill of trying something new juxtaposed with the safety net of the recipe book.
He stares at the pot of boiling water, watching it bubble ominously.
"The water's not going anywhere," Bakugou says, and he looks up with a start to find the boy only a few feet away. When had he gotten there? "You look like you're gonna set something on fire. Don't do anything stupid."
"Don't be ridiculous," Todoroki says, tearing his eyes from the pot. "I just zoned out for a moment." He grabs the bowl of pasta noodles, stares through the steam into the pot, and drops them all in. The water splashes back at him, spraying him with droplets of liquid fire, and he almost drops the bowl.
"That's why I told you not to be stupid," Bakugou groans, grabbing the bowl from him. "Obviously the water would splash if you dropped it like that. Haven't you ever been to a pool?"
"We went to the pool together-"
"Sarcasm, dumbass. Sarcasm."
Bakugou grabs a wooden spoon, stirring the pasta. "If you don't mix it, then the noodles will stick together. I'll finish this up, you make the sauce or whatever."
"No." Bakugou looks up at him, surprised. "I want to try it myself. I can't say that I got the full experience if I don't finish the recipe alone."
Bakugou stares at him, wondering why he's so resolute now of all times. Does he want to get hurt? Mess up and have all of his hard work go down the drain?
Then he remembers the first time he used the stove alone, without the hag hovering over his shoulder. It was liberating, even when he almost started a grease fire with his eggs and had to cover the smoldering remains before it got him killed. It was part of the fun, wasn't it.
"Do whatever you want," he says, and returns to the couch. Deku's making a shitty ass argument in the quirk analytics chat, and if he doesn't jump in to set him straight, no one will. If Icy Hot wants to make himself a new boiling water-related trauma, then, well, maybe it'll cancel out the old trauma. Bakugou's no licensed psychologist, but he can't be too off the mark.
Todoroki returns to the noodles, holding the spoon by the very end and stirring gently. The noodles swirl in a small whirlpool of his making, and he smiles. His reflection in the microwave smiles back at him. Did his mother ever cook for him like this, before she was forced to leave the house? Did she smile while making noodles like he is now? He'll have to ask her when he sees her next, if she's in a good headspace. Maybe he can even bring her some of his noodles for her to try.
"This club," he says, pointing to the kitchen. "I want to join this club."
"Fucking finally," Bakugou says, grabbing an energy bar from the cabinet. "I can't believe after all that, I could've just given you a frying pan and called it a day."
"You didn't have to do any of it," Todoroki reminds him. "You could have left me with the birdwatching club, or the art club, or the community service club, or even the quirk analysis club. But you didn't."
"And what's my reward? How many good karma points do I get for this?" He sits backwards on one of the kitchen chairs, demolishing his bar in three bites and tossing the wrapper into the garbage.
"I'm not sure. But if you wait a little, I'll make you dinner for your effort."
"You just cooked your first batch of pasta, you're not a chef. I can make myself better food."
"This will save you the effort, though. Plus," he looks over his shoulder at the open chat, "it looks like you have your hands full at the moment with Midoriya.
"...you better make it extra spicy."
"I will." He drains the pasta in the sink, and the steam slaps him in the face, quickly fading to coolness. It feels like a surprise. It feels like an embrace.