Shoto Todoroki Oneshots

The Lost Prince Pt.2

"My name is Shoto Otsuka."

"Shoto," Bakugou repeated to himself underneath his breath, "a beautiful name for a beautiful person."

He grinned to himself when the most delicate rose blush rose onto the man's face, Shoto's face, and he soon disappeared behind the hung washing to finish his task. Bakugou, with his now empty arms, went to join Shoto as he hung the last few items of clothing. 

"May I ask how old you are, Shoto?"

"16."

"I'm 21. That makes me your senior." Bakugou teased with a grin, Shoto looking at him with blank eyes before picking up the basket to take it inside. 

"So, why are you here and not enjoying the festivities?"

"I haven't finished my chores. So I can't leave."

"Surely your parents can allow you one evening of respite?" Bakugou asked, curiously. 

"My work isn't hard so I don't need to rest. My family do, so they get to go to the festival."

Bakugou didn't miss the wisp of longing in Shoto's voice as the male looked outside and into the sky where reflections of the lanterns lit up the night sky. 

"I see..." he trailed off before an idea began to form in his mind. "If I assisted you with the rest of your chores, would you attend the festival with me?"

Shoto's hands paused from where he was dividing up freshly picked herbs, looking at him with a frown.

"You wish... to go with me?" he asked quietly, almost as if he didn't dare ask.

"I would."

The tense silence lingered a third time, this one Bakugou was the most desperate to break, and his eyes widened when Shoto parted his lips only to be interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Instantly, alarm appeared in Shoto's eyes that made Bakugou concerned for him, but he was soon being ushered out of the house and towards the garden gate.

"You must leave, we have not met." Shoto whispered as he began to close the gate. 

"Will I see you again?" he asked hastily, eyes staring into ones he realised were heterochromatic, a piercing turquoise blue and stormy grey. 

"I-I..." Shoto looked to the house where lights were being turned on in various rooms, "I will if you show me the exploding stars." 

Bakugou couldn't reply before the gate was being slammed shut in his face, only footsteps fading into the distance a sign they had even met at all. He sighed and rested his forehead against the gate, wondering how long he would have next time until they had to part. He had so many questions to ask Shoto: about his heterochromia, about his duties around the house, about how he tended to his garden so beautifully. But most importantly: what in the hell were exploding stars?!

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Shoto was panting heavily in his bed, his small window open as far as the latch would allow as he forced his lungs to expand and the redness to disappear from his cheeks. He pressed a palm to his chest and he could feel its fast pounding. 

He couldn't get his thoughts off of the stranger. The rather... handsome stranger, even if he had not met many people. His blond hair almost like a halo in the sunlight, his clothes that looked so well-designed and expensive compared to the dirt-stained, plain clothes he wore. He looked down at them and saw the brown patches against the hem and he groaned, hiding his face in his arms. 

The stranger, or rather Bakugou Katsuki, was the same man he saw in the orchard. The same man whose face appeared in his dream the night before like a nameless spectre, a mystery just out of reach. He had so many questions: Why did Bakugou come to his garden? Why did he assist him in his chores? Why did he offer to attend the festival with Shoto?

All of these questions made him feel more lost and confused than ever, even more so when he tried reading his elder siblings' old textbooks when he was alone in the house throughout the day. But the last question made something new and unusual stir in his gut, the feeling making him feel sick. He almost felt... wanted? Wanted in a way he had never been from his family; that additional thought made him feel worse and he curled up on his side on his creaky bed in the attic. 

Worst of all, he let his thoughts flow freely like the comforting breeze coming from the window, he had asked Bakugou to show him the exploding stars. What was he thinking?! He had seen them several times whenever there were festivals his family attended: bright explosions of colour, golds and reds and greens and blues and purples in the sky. Like the flowers in his garden they shot up and bloomed so extraordinarily that sometimes he had to look away due to the burning in his eyes.

He felt foolish asking this of a man he had met for only a few minutes. But he wanted to know. He wanted to know so bad that in that last moment he rushed to ask him before pushing him away and sprinting to pick up the clippers he had abandoned earlier. His father asked him why he looked exhausted, if he had gotten himself sick, but he assured him the redness was simply from the cool breeze. His family seemed to accept this and rushed to the living room for the iced tea and biscuits Shoto had set out earlier to discuss their favourite part of the celebrations. Shoto wanted to listen, but he really did have to finish collecting and sorting the herbs before he could rest for the night.

Sighing loudly, he pulled up his blanket to his chin and set his gaze on the starry sky outside, trying to focus on the tasks he had to do tomorrow rather than possibly meeting Bakugou again. His day had been eventful, and thankfully, sleep came easy...