Getting Katsuki ready for school that morning was not an easy task.
It was the first day of school after the winter holiday. It was a new year, and possibly Katsuki's most anticipated yet. This year (in three months, to be exact), Katsuki would turn ten years old. Double digits. Most certainly not a little kid anymore. He already set his resolutions to improve his fastball and master the drums, in that order.
But after a week of sleeping in and picking up a few bonus lessons with Mr. Yamada, Katsuki's brain was still in vacation mode. The boy was extra crabby this morning, much to everyone's dismay.
"Remember," Mitsuki said once they finally got in the car, "Shouto's coming back to school today, so I want you to be nice to him. That boy's been through enough these last few weeks."
Katsuki rolled his eyes and slammed the back of his head against his seat. "I know," he groaned.
He hadn't seen Shouto since the funeral. Touya's death happened close enough to the holiday that his parents decided to keep him home until after winter break was over. And though he refused to admit it, Katsuki was scared to see him.
Would things change between them? Was Katsuki expected to be all friendly with Shouto for the rest of eternity just because his brother died? Was Shouto going to be all friendly with Katsuki just because Katsuki attended the funeral? Was everything going to be exactly the same and Katsuki was worrying for no reason at all? Too much stress this early in the morning made his head hurt, so he did his best to eject his troubling thoughts.
It helped that he spotted Eijiro as soon as he climbed out of the car when they reached the elementary school parking lot. The two boys greeted each other before heading into the building. Once inside, they walked toward the gymnasium where they were to stand in the line designated for their class as they waited for their teacher to show up.
They were some of the first ones there, only beaten by Tenya Iida and Izuku Midoriya. Not that Katsuki minded as this gave him plenty of time to catch up with Eijiro about how each of their breaks went. They did see each other one day, in which they had an intense snowball fight. Katsuki won, obviously, but both boys had an equal amount of fun.
As Katsuki spoke with Eijiro, Izuku spoke with Tenya.
"Shouto's coming back today," the green haired boy said.
This caught Eijiro's attention. "Really?"
Izuku nodded. "My mom told me."
"Mine too," Katsuki muttered. He didn't enjoy talking to Izuku, but he wasn't about to let the boy get all the credit for knowing something their classmates didn't.
"Do you think he's feeling better?" Eijiro said.
Tenya adjusted his glasses. "I doubt it. It has to hurt a lot to lose your brother. I don't know what I'd do without my brother."
Eijiro dropped his shoulders. "Yeah. Maybe."
As the minutes ticked by, more students from Katsuki's third grade class piled in. Their line soon got very chatty, which often happened whenever Denki and Mina showed up. Katsuki glanced at the back of the line every few minutes, looking for Shouto. Anxiety consumed him each time someone new arrived, only for it to vanish when he realized it wasn't the boy he was looking for.
But then, at the last minute, there he was.
Shouto shuffled awkwardly across the gymnasium, his body being swallowed by his puffy winter jacket. His face poked out from under his beanie, though he was too far away for Katsuki to gauge his expression. As he approached their class line, the discomfort on his face was evident, most likely because kids across all grade levels were staring at him. Katsuki immediately faced the front of the line again, not wanting to associate himself with a bunch of nosy losers.
Still, he heard the commotion from everyone behind him. Even Izuku and Tenya, who were at the front, abandoned their spots in line to pester their classmate.
Everyone aside from Katsuki cheered as they greeted Shouto, each of them talking over the other as they relayed to him how glad they were that he was back at school. Izuku muttered what sounded like a highly lame vacation as Tenya filled Shouto in on everything they covered in class during his absence. Even Eijiro ditched Katsuki in line to shower the boy with gratitude.
Katsuki kept his back turned. He figured Shouto was overwhelmed enough as is with all this attention. Besides, he and Shouto weren't even friends. They never said hello to each other at school in the morning. Why should he go out of his way to disrupt the status quo?
He then felt a tap on his shoulder. The touch was so delicate that had it been any softer, Katsuki probably wouldn't have felt it.
"Um, hi Katsuki."
Katsuki, knowing exactly who that voice belonged to, slowly spun around in shock. When his eyes met Shouto's, his chest tightened. The boy was still a few inches shorter than him, yet Katsuki cowered where he stood as if he was challenged by a full grown adult.
"Oh," he choked out. "Hi."
Shouto's eyes darted around, which offered the smallest bit of comfort. At least Katsuki didn't appear to be the only one unsettled by this exchange.
Shouto bounced on his heels before he tugged on his backpack straps. "I'm, uh...sorry."
There was no way Katsuki heard that right. Shouto Todoroki, the one whose brother died mere weeks ago, was apologizing to him? In no universe would that ever make sense.
Katsuki flinched. "Huh?"
"I'm sorry," Shouto repeated. "For what I said at your birthday last year."
He didn't intend to stand there frozen, but Katsuki couldn't manage to do anything else. Of all moments for Shouto to apologize to him over what happened that day, why did it have to be now? Katsuki hardly even thought about that day anymore. Even if what Shouto said about their classmates hating him was true, Katsuki was content with the friends he had in Eijiro, Denki, and Hanta. Anyone else's opinion no longer mattered to him.
Or so he thought.
Because now Katsuki was standing, lips parted, staring at Shouto with a great deal of confusion. Hearing the smaller boy issue him an apology, regardless of the reason, made his mouth dry. He noted the sincerity in Shouto's eyes, how they were desperate but hopeful. Katsuki knew it then. For whatever the reason was, Shouto wanted Katsuki to forgive him.
However, he couldn't say it. He wanted to, even with the voice in his head telling him how stupid of an idea it was, but he stayed silent. He couldn't accept Shouto's apology because Katsuki knew deep down if anyone should've been apologizing, it was him. Shouto didn't hurl those insults at him out of nowhere, he only did it when he was fed up with Katsuki bullying the rest of their classmates.
It didn't feel good, hearing an apology he knew he didn't deserve. And had Shouto arrived at school maybe a minute earlier, Katsuki would've told him that. But just when he worked up the courage to say something, their teacher had shown up to escort them to their classroom.
Eijiro joined Katsuki at the front of the line again, the dark haired boy rambling about what he'd do if he could live as a shark for a day. Katsuki, giving into temptation, peered behind him and caught Shouto staring at him. Shouto immediately looked away, though not before a rosy hue highlighted his cheeks. Katsuki turned back around and muttered a curse word to himself, the same word his father used whenever he stubbed his toe on their dining room table.
Katsuki wanted to rush to the nurse's office and fake an illness so he could go home. No way would he be able to deal with this the entire day. Why was Shouto trying so hard to get on his good side this morning? And why did Katsuki almost allow it to happen?
The answer was obvious. Shouto was still traumatized from his brother's death that he wasn't acting like his normal self. Granted, there was never anything normal about Shouto Todoroki, but Katsuki ignored that for now.
All he had to do was avoid Shouto for the rest of the day, week, and probably month. That should be enough time for things to go back to how they were, right?
God, he certainly hoped so.
*
Katsuki hated himself for being so weak.
He was supposed to be ignoring Shouto. Which, technically he was, depending on how one defined the term ignore. Katsuki hadn't said a word to him since their brief exchange before school started, but that was as far as it went.
See, Katsuki couldn't take his eyes off Shouto for the entire morning. And in the short moments in which he looked away so their teacher wouldn't scold him for not paying attention, Shouto was at the front of his mind.
He just couldn't figure out how he felt about the boy. One instant he found him as annoying as ever, the next a pang of guilt swept over him for thinking that way. It was exhausting.
It wasn't entirely Katsuki's fault. Given that it was Shouto's first day back at school since Touya's death, the boy was often the center of attention. Which, Katsuki realized, was what was bothering him so much.
He wasn't jealous or anything, far from it. But Katsuki, who barely considered Shouto an acquaintance, noticed how uncomfortable it made the boy to have the reminder of his brother's death constantly shoved in his face. And it irritated him that no one else had that same awareness.
First there was the sympathy card made of giant poster board that everyone in the class signed in his absence. Yes, even Katsuki. Even though he already said sorry in person, he wasn't going to be the only one in the class who didn't sign it. When their teacher handed it to Shouto at the beginning of the day, Katsuki frowned. He didn't like the way Shouto sucked in his lip before muttering a weak thank you, and clearly a fake one at that.
The rest of the morning played out in similar fashion. Everyone was rushing to pair up with Shouto whenever class called for a group activity. The only reason Eijiro didn't join in on the madness was because of the glare Katsuki shot at him for even entertaining the idea. Shouto sunk in his chair, his face beat red from his classmates fawning over him like he was a celebrity. Katsuki figured they were just trying to be nice given everything that happened, but Shouto's expression signified that the boy picked up on that too, which seemed to have the opposite effect of cheering him up.
And then at recess, Katsuki's friends had the boneheaded idea to ask Shouto if he wanted to play baseball with them. Shouto declined, obviously, as they never played at recess together. He was always with Izuku and Tenya, and occasionally Ochaco if she wasn't hanging out with the girls. Katsuki called them all idiots for subjecting Shouto to more special treatment he clearly was uncomfortable with, as well as suggesting he join them to play the sport his dead brother was a prodigy at.
Maybe if everyone at their school wasn't so dumb, Katsuki wouldn't have felt as bad for Shouto as he did. That just made him angrier, as he was sure Shouto didn't want his or anyone's pity. But Katsuki concluded that as long as he didn't speak to Shouto for the rest of the day, it didn't matter what his feelings were about the situation. At least it would provide Shouto with some sense of normalcy to how things used to be before his world crashed down.
Their third grade class sat at one long table during their lunch period. Eijiro and Denki sat on opposite sides of Katsuki, which was ideal, but Shouto and Izuku sat across from them, which was anything but ideal. Still, he tried to calm himself by aggressively scratching his arm under the table.
"What's wrong, Shouto?"
Eijiro's voice snapped Katsuki back to the present. Across from them, Shouto was frowning as his paper lunch bag sat unopened on the table.
"My mom packed me an avocado sandwich for lunch," he muttered.
Izuku tilted his head. "What's wrong with that?"
Shouto dipped his head down. "I don't like avocados."
"Then why would she make you a sandwich with avocados in it?" Denki said.
He still didn't look up. "They're, um...what she always made Touya for lunch. They were his favorite."
Their section of the lunch table went quiet. Even Katsuki's face softened at the revelation. Shouto still had his head down as he let out a small sigh.
"My mom's been crying a lot lately," he said. "I didn't want to hurt her feelings by telling her she messed up my lunch so I just brought it to school with me."
"Well you have to eat something," Eijiro said.
Shouto shrugged. "I'll be fine. I'm not that hungry anyway."
Rolling his eyes, Katsuki shoved his lunch bag across the table. "Here. Trade with me."
He snatched Shouto's bag before the boy had a chance to respond. Shouto finally lifted his head and with big, innocent eyes, met Katsuki's gaze.
"You don't have to," he said. "Really, I'm fine."
Katsuki ignored him and took a bite out of the sandwich anyway. It was pretty delicious. If he ever found himself at Shouto's house, he'd ask Shouto's mom to make him another one. Not that he'd ever spend time with Shouto outside of school anyway.
"Just eat it," Katsuki said once he finished chewing. "It's cold soba. I like to eat mine spicy, but my mom forgot to put the hot sauce packs in my bag. Stupid hag."
Shouto blinked twice. "Soba?"
Katsuki furrowed his brows. "You've never had soba before? They're just noodles."
"No," Shouto mumbled. His facial expression resorted back to a helpless one. "My dad always has to approve what I eat. Guess he forgot I don't like avocados either."
Katsuki felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He didn't mean to come across as insensitive, but Shouto's response made him feel like he did anyway. The mention of Enji Todoroki had Katsuki feeling uneasy. It was rare for Shouto to talk about his father. And with how Enji conducted himself at Touya's funeral, the pieces to the puzzle that was the Todoroki family started to connect in Katsuki's brain once again.
No, now wasn't the time, especially with Eijiro seemingly reading his mind and staring him down, challenging him telepathically to knock it off. So Katsuki did. He pushed the thought to the side, for now at least.
He gestured to his lunch box that was now in front of Shouto. "Well, you might as well try it. Either that or you don't eat."
Shouto surveyed Katsuki's lunch box once again before tentatively opening it. Sure enough, there was a container of cold soba inside, as well as a tiny container of vegetables. No hot sauce in sight, as Katsuki mentioned, so no one could accuse him of lying.
Katsuki continued eating the sandwich, as well as the apple that came with it, as he watched Shouto pick up the chopsticks. Shouto opened the container and gathered a small bit of soba before slurping it down. A moment of silence fell over them as the boy looked up to the ceiling.
And then, Shouto's eyes widened and he squealed in delight.
"This is so good!" he said, already digging in for more. He accumulated far more soba on his chopsticks that could fit in his mouth, but he shoved as much as he could past his lips.
Izuku stopped eating his curry to address his friend. "Careful, Shouto! You're gonna choke!"
"I'on care," Shouto muttered, mouth full of noodles. He slurped them down like a vacuum, not bothering to stop and take a breath.
Katsuki stared on in bewilderment. He'd never seen someone so enthused about eating cold, bland noodles. Whatever diet Shouto's father monitored for him must've been depressing.
Eijiro chuckled. "I think he likes it."
Shouto finally paused devouring his lunch and nodded enthusiastically. "I do!" He closed his eyes and smiled big at the boy sitting across from him. "Thank you, Katsuki!"
As Shouto went back to eating, Katsuki's hands clammed up. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his face neutral, because how was he supposed to respond to that? Shouto Todoroki smiling at him like they were the best of friends and offering him thanks? It was like something out of Katsuki's worst nightmare.
Then again, he wondered if that was the first time Shouto smiled like that since his brother died.
Eijiro elbowed him in the ribs after too much time passed without Katsuki responding. Katsuki didn't see the problem as Shouto was too busy with what seemed to be his new favorite meal to listen to him anyway. But he didn't want to get elbowed a second time. Eijiro was stronger than he looked.
"Y-You're...welcome," he said through his teeth.
*
"Katsuki, can you come in here please?"
Katsuki perked his head up as he heard Mitsuki's voice from the kitchen. He set his homework down on the coffee table and rushed out of the living room to see her. He stood next to her as she sat at the kitchen table.
At first he thought he might've done something to get in trouble, but Mitsuki was smiling, yet that didn't relax him either. His mom smiling like that usually meant one of two things: either she had good news to share or she was two seconds away from screaming her head off.
"Katsuki," she said, "Shouto's mom just called. She said Shouto asked her if he could have soba for dinner tonight."
Knowing where this was going, Katsuki scrunched his face. "So?"
"So," she continued, "Rei told me that Shouto never had soba before, so it was weird of him to ask that. But then he told her that you shared your lunch with him."
Katsuki crossed his arms and looked to the side. "I didn't share with him. We traded. There's a difference."
Mitsuki's smile grew larger. "Well I still think that was very sweet of you. Rei said something about packing the wrong lunch for Shouto by accident, so he didn't have anything to eat. But you offered him your food so he wouldn't be hungry."
Katsuki scowled and stomped his foot. "Don't say it like that! I only traded with him because you forgot to pack my hot sauce! I can't eat cold noodles!"
Mitsuki, not falling for her son's antics, pursed her lips and rose from her chair. She walked across to the kitchen to the counter where Katsuki's lunch box was. She unzipped the little side pouch and pulled out three packs of hot sauce, all of them unopened. "You mean these?"
Katsuki's face grew hot. Quick on his feet, he flashed a sheepish smile. "Silly me, I guess I forgot to look there."
Mitsuki tucked the hot sauce packs back in the bag before facing her son once more. She rested a hand on her hip. "Katsuki, I pack them in the same spot every day so you know where to look for them."
Katsuki hated this. He wanted to pull his hair out and scream and jump into a hole and run away forever. This whole conversation was torture.
He pouted at the ground. "Fine," he whined, "I switched with him so he wouldn't starve. He was acting sad all day and I know he would've been even more annoying if he skipped lunch. Happy now?"
Mitsuki beamed and caressed his head. "Honey, it's okay that you wanted to help him. You did something very nice for Shouto, and he's clearly appreciative of it."
Katsuki clicked his tongue. "Whatever."
Mitsuki kissed her son's cheek and hugged him. "I'm so proud of you, Katsuki."
Katsuki's scowl didn't let up. This was embarrassing. He was just outed for having compassion for one of his classmates, one he didn't even like all that much. Katsuki never wanted people to find out he went out of his way to be nice to Shouto Todoroki of all people.
To top it all off, his mother was proud of him.
Gross.
He hugged her back anyway, as he'd rather be in his mother's good graces than be on the receiving end of one of her lectures. But this had to end. Katsuki was sure of it.
He did his one good deed and was nice to the boy whose brother just passed away. Shouto seemed in better spirits anyway so now they could go their separate ways and ignore each other's existence again. There was no way Katsuki's desire to cheer Shouto up would be more than a one time thing, right?
...Right?