Shoto Todoroki Oneshots

La La La

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of abuse and panic attacks

THEMES: Angst, Fluff eventually, BakuTodoMomo

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It started out as a normal day. 

Shoto woke up at 5AM in a light sweat, the edges of his sheets singed from the flickers of red flame on his arm, his cheek lightly frosted with frozen tears. After looking distantly at the lightening blue sky he pulled himself out of bed and went to shower in his bathroom. After drying and putting on his uniform he brushed his teeth and brushed through his hair until the parting was perfect.

Several of his classmates joined him in the elevator, grabbing a quick breakfast as they all rushed to make it to class on time. Then they changed out of their shoes, did morning attendance, then began English class with Present Mic. Freezing his body enough to not flinch at the random bouts of yelling from their teacher at his particular excitement for a new English word, the morning passed quickly and break flashed by; before he could even register it he was writing out calculations in his maths book.

It happened sometimes, where his mind would just blank out and his body go on auto-pilot. It was a method he had used religiously throughout his childhood, his body going through the motions whilst training with his father, where as his mind was clinging desperately onto the ghosts of his mother's smile.

But it wasn't always helpful when it came to studying. He retained almost all of their content well, so he didn't have to spend hours studying excessively. But when he blanked out into blissful ignorance he could forget days worth of classwork, meaning he was up until early morning catching up on exam practice or research tasks. It wasn't always ideal, it could be time spent training in Gym Gamma or attending one of the class's movie nights, but it had to be done.

Looking down at his half-full page, he saw the simultaneous equations they were expanding and let his shoulders loosen up since he had already studied this section last week. He liked to be ahead of his class in case he ended up blanking out as he liked to think it helped in retaining a little more information later on.

Zoning out again he let his mind wander, knowing his teacher was unlikely to call on him since he didn't speak much in class. As long as he did his work and didn't fall behind, it was fine for him to remain silent. He thought about visiting his mother on Saturday: he wanted to stop by the flower shop and get her some fresh flowers. The ones in her room were slowly wilting and the sight did nothing to improve the depressing atmosphere of the white-washed hospital room.

He liked visiting his mother, it was nice to chat to her and see her express more of herself confidently with every visit. He talked to her about her classes or when he had hung out with his friends; she appreciated the small trinkets he would bring her from their shopping trips. He asked about Fuyumi and her visits to their mother, and loved when he found out Natsuo visited sometimes too. 

In that small hour it was almost easy to pretend that nothing was wrong. That his mother hadn't broken down, that their family was normal like everyone else's, but then when he visited his father the next day that brief bliss vanished. His father... 

Sighing, he shook his head slightly and blinked so he could re-focus on his work. He had written two pages now, and he had also marked his answers from the correct ones on the board. Seeing the teacher write a small summary list, he decided to write that down too, switching from his right to left hand in order to balance out his ability. It was something he had learned from a child, and it was one of the few things he didn't entirely hate from it.

Just as he finished writing the new subtitle the sound of something smashing from beyond the classroom door drew his attention. His grip on his pen slipped and a streak of ink slashed across his page. Swearing softly under his breath, he joined his classmates in looking over to the door, wondering what that sound was. Some of them were close to standing, ready to fight in case it was a villain.