Artificial Flavors

todoki

Shoto stared into the microwave with an unwavering glare. The bowl of noodles slowly rotated on the plate, bubbling in a deceptive manner. Shoto knew that if he took them out now, the noodles would still be cold in the middle.

So, he waited, hands limp at his sides as the microwave whirred away.

His silent staring was interrupted, however, at the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen.

A squeak of "Oh!" was vocalized, unfamiliar enough for Shoto to turn and look behind him.

The odd boy from the night before stood there, wavering behind an unfazed Aizawa. He blinked in a way that spoke recognition as he openly gawked at Shoto.

The silence was broken by the high pitched beeping of the microwave, immediately calling Shoto's attention back to his noodles.

"Good morning, Todoroki," Aizawa greeted him in that flat manner he always spoke with.

Shoto dipped his head in return, unable to help the way his eyes slid over to the boy- green hair, green eyes, an almost gaunt face. What was his name again? Izuru? Midori? ...Something with a "D"...

Aizawa spoke from where he was rustling around in a cupboard. "Don't be rude, kid."

Shoto wasn't sure which one of them the man was referring to, but he was spared from figuring it out when the boy spoke first.

"Morning!" he said, far too loud and excited for the early hour and pointed at his chest, "Deku. Todoki?" he continued, now sticking his finger at Shoto.

Shoto blinked. "Uh. No," he said, but quickly clarified when 'Deku' started to frown, "It's Todoroki, not-" Deku cut him off with a huff and waved off the correction.

"Okay."

Aizawa snorted in what might've counted as a laugh.

"Alright, Midoriya, I have some more oatmeal for you. Eat up," the man turned to his two students, plopping the bowl on the small table next to Shoto's own bowl of noodles.

As Shoto finally tucked into his own breakfast, Deku sniffed cautiously at his own food. He didn't exactly withdraw in disgust, but he did look mildly disappointed by the plain oats set out in front of him.

Secretly, Shoto thought Aizawa could've at least put a little sugar in it.

It was almost depressing, watching the boy spoon the mush into his mouth.

"Sorry, kid. Still gotta take it easy on your stomach," Aizawa muttered, reaching out to ruffle Deku's hair in a surprisingly affectionate gesture.

Shoto's eyebrows lifted slowly in surprise, and he focused more directly on this supposed "new classmate". Just who was he, and how was he able to so easily worm his way into Aizawa's cold, probably shriveled heart (no offense).

For the first time in weeks, possibly months, Shoto felt a sense of interest worm its way past the revenge based fugue that enveloped his brain.