Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Thursday, October 27: Loop 2 (only he doesn’t know it yet)

An alarm rings.

Shouto groans, cracking open his eyes and reaching over to hit snooze on his alarm clock, the shrill noise stopping for the next five minutes. He feels awful, honestly, like he hasn’t slept at all. His head is pounding and his limbs feel incredibly heavy as he rolls back over. He shuts his eyes and waits.

The alarm goes off again and this time Shouto knows he has to get up. He sighs and turns the clock off and stands up. He takes two steps, eyes shut in a yawn, before feeling his feet go out from under him, his stomach swooping and a small yelp escaping his mouth. He slips halfway to a split before he regains his balance. Now wide awake with a pounding heart, Shouto opens his eyes and looks down.

Origin of Heroes , one of their required textbooks, shines up at him from under his foot.

He pauses. 

His eyes shift to his desk. 

He could’ve sworn he had put that textbook there yesterday, having left it out Wednesday night. He couldn’t sleep so he figured he may as well study for their upcoming test. If it didn’t bore him to sleep, at least he reviewed a little bit.

All this to say, he knows he put it away because this exact same thing had happened to him yesterday morning. He had gotten out of bed, taken a few steps, and almost ate shit on the floor by slipping on his textbook.

Shouto swallows roughly, his mouth and throat dry from sleep. Carefully, he bends down and picks up the textbook. He stares at it as if it will tell him how it ended up back on the ground. Ultimately, it makes no noise so Shouto puts it in the center of his desk. He takes two deep breaths to calm down his heart rate.

By the time he’s washed up and dressed, he’s feeling much calmer. His headache is still present, but he can manage. He must’ve just thought about moving his book yesterday and in his sleep-addled brain forgot to actually do it. God knows, Shouto’s done worse when he’s tired. He heads downstairs where a group of them are getting ready to leave.

“Good morning, Todoroki!” Midoriya says cheerfully, forever a go-getter even at eight in the morning.

“Morning,” Shouto mumbles back.

Midoriya knows by now–as all his friends do–it’ll take Shouto at least until first period to wake up fully, so they usually keep conversations pretty minimal with him in the mornings. Shouto goes past a few of them, ignoring the small chatter, and opens the fridge.

Top shelf, all the way to the right, is his blueberry smoothie.

That he drank yesterday. 

Shouto pauses yet again, his heart rate spiking instantly. Did he…no, he must be mistaken. He must not have realized he had another one left. 

That’s all.

He picks it up and checks the cap, the “T” in black marker and his handwriting confirming it is his.

Okay…

Okay.

Shouto is having a weird morning, no doubt about it.

Even still, it’s his last smoothie and he needs breakfast, so he opens the bottle and takes a sip. It doesn’t taste bad. It tastes exactly like it should (like it did yesterday).

Shouto scans the people in front of him, Momo and Jirou finishing their own breakfast and watching something on Jirou’s phone. Midoriya, Ochako, Tsu, and Iida are at the doorway, chatting while they finish putting on their boots and coats. Tokoyami is coming into the kitchen, stepping around Shouto to go to the fridge.

Shouto takes a breath. No one else seems to be having a weird morning. 

It’s fine.

“Ready to go, Todoroki?” Ochako calls out.

Shouto nods, mentally shaking himself out of his daze. He hadn’t even taken another sip of his smoothie.

Shouto joins his friends at the door, throwing on his coat and shoes and heading out.

On the walk to school Shouto is lost in thought. A prickly chill ghosts up his spine. Those were just oddly strange coincidences, he tries to reason with himself as he sips his smoothie. No need to go on the defense. He was probably just overly tired yesterday morning and misremembered the smoothie thing. This headache is throwing him off too, he has to factor that in.

Maybe…maybe there is a reason though. What if–

No. 

Shouto takes yet another calming breath. Nothing is going on, no one is in danger, he’s safe, his friends are safe, the school is safe. If something were actually wrong, everyone else would feel it too. And as it were, his friends don’t seem the slightest bit bothered.

That actually helps calm him down a bit. He and his classmates are training to be pro heroes, everyone at the school is going into the hero line of work in some capacity. If any place was going to have hundreds of people incredibly tuned to a disturbance, it would be UA.

The fact that Shouto is the only one feeling odd is a good thing. He’s probably coming down with a cold or something. That sours his mood though, because Shouto hates getting sick.

They get into class and head to their seats, Shouto throwing out the now empty bottle on the way. 

“Oh, Todobroki!” Kaminari says, walking over to his desk so they’re beside each other, “Did you watch last night's new episode of Free?”

Shouto stares at him without a reply for a moment. “You asked me this yesterday.” He says slowly. Takes a deep breath. 

Kaminari gives him a confused grin, “It only came out last night.”

“What? No it didn’t, it comes out Wednesdays.”

Now Kaminari looks totally confused, “Right…and it’s Thursday.”

They both stare at each other and don’t speak.

“Um,” Kaminari gives a nervous laugh, “I think you need to go back to sleep, Todoroki.” and then he’s off to his seat, Aizawa entering the room to start the day. 

“Alright, settle down.” Aizawa says.

Everyone goes to their seats, the chatter falling away.

“Iida,” Aizawa says, motioning for him to talk.

Iida stands quickly, bowing, and launches into his speech, “Good morning everyone! As we know, this year's school festival is steadily approaching. We’ve decided to pick the theme even earlier to ensure-”

Shouto stops listening. Can’t hear over the pounding in his ears anyway. His headache is back in full force, drumming on his temples with intense pressure. 

What is Iida talking about? Didn’t he give this exact speech yesterday?

Shouto looks around the room. Why does no one else seem to be reacting? They’re all watching Iida with varying levels of attention, but from the faces Shouto can see, no one looks freaked out.

He’s having the worst case of deja vu. That’s what this is. 

He stares down at his desk and screws his eyes shut. 

When Shouto finally focuses back in, he’s surprised to see Ectoplasm in the room and starting his lesson. He opens his notebook. 

His notes from yesterday are gone. There’s no mention of Thursday, October 27th anywhere. He pages through his notes, flipping all the way to the back in case he somehow missed a page. But no, there’s nothing there.

He looks up at the board again, and in Aizawa’s quick, lazy writing it says Thursday, October 27th. Did he…forget to erase it? Put the wrong day? Shouto wasn’t paying attention at all, he has no idea if Aizawa wrote that today or if it’s left from yesterday.

Ectoplasm begins writing on the board. The equation feels eerily familiar but Shouto has no proof it’s the same as yesterday. It could just be a similar lesson to one they've had already.

Unfortunately for Shouto, each morning class follows this trend. He is familiar with the concepts they’re learning but with no concrete proof in his notebooks, he can’t be sure they’re the same. To make matters worse, no one else seems to think that they’re doing repeat lessons.  No one is raising their hand to question Present Mic when he explains English past participles, no one is looking around the room in confusion in any class.

Shouto is starting to sweat, so he pumps up his cold quirk in his body. He feels strange and he can’t help it, his hands all jittery while he writes.

Was he psychic? Is that what’s going on? He couldn’t have had such a vivid premonition, could he? Or is that how psychics first come into their power? 

He knows Endeavor doesn’t have any kind of psychic quirk abilities, and he’s positive if his mom did Endeavor would have been exploiting that in training from the start. Unless Shouto is unlocking some unknown power he’s never had (unlikely) this really is just a horrible case of deja vu.

Finally, they head to lunch. Stepping out of the classroom feels like a sort of relief, and Shouto goes over the morning in his head as he walks to the cafeteria with his friends. He can’t shake the uneasy feeling from his bones. 

At the counter, Shouto buys yakisoba pan, different from what he ate yesterday, to feel some kind of control over his day. It feels like a small victory, in a way.

He joins his friends at their table and sits with a small sigh.

“Have you guys heard about this?” Ochako asks with a frown, showing off an article on her phone.

“Oh god,” Tsu groans, leaning in to read it.

Earlier that morning, there was a villain attack not far from UA. Called The Watcher, the villain had infiltrated one of the secure banks and held the staff inside.

Shouto frowns too, for a different reason.

“Yes!” Midoriya says, “I was just researching it this morning,” he pulls out his notebook.

“According to the earliest police report, The Watcher was able to infiltrate the bank with some kind of time manipulation quirk. All of the staff was unable to move but The Watcher was completely unaffected.”

“It says here they weren’t frozen, just moving at an abnormally slow place.” Ochako reads.

Tsu is leaning over her shoulder reading along, “The Watcher has been seen only in two other cases so far. Both bank robberies. One where they froze the two workers completely until a patron walked in and called the police. And one that was only discovered when the staff managed to reach the panic button thirty minutes after they left.”

Shouto watches them in dumbfounded silence.

“The workers all claimed they felt their heartbeats slow down, and it felt like each step took roughly one minute to complete.”

“Do you think their quirk would slow down Recipro Burst to a walk? Or would it slow to the average speed of everyone else?”

“Hmm,” Midoriya flips through his book, “other reports–” 

“What’s going on?” Shouto asks quietly.

His friends turn to him.

“Huh?”

Shouto shakes his head absently, “We talked about all of this yesterday. The Watcher, Iida’s quirk, all of it. Are you messing with me?”

His friends stare at him in a mix of confusion and concern.

“Uh, are you feeling alright Todoroki?” Tsu asks with a small frown.

Shouto puts his head in his hands and lets out a deep breath.

“I’m having the worst case of deja vu right now. All day, actually.” 

Before he can object, Midoriya is reaching out with a hand on his forehead.

“You feel kinda warm, you think you have a fever?”

“Do you want to go to Recovery Girl?” Ochako asks.

“No, no. I’m fine.” Shouto tries to reassure them.

“Are you sure?” Midoriya asks.

When Shouto nods again, they know to drop it. They change the topic, stiltedly moving onto a class assignment. Still, they keep glancing at him as they talk. 

He’s sweating again, activating his ice side once more to cool himself. He feels nauseous, his lunch completely unappetizing in front of him. He feels like screaming, yelling, making some kind of scene because this isn’t normal. No one else is acting strangely though, besides his friends now thinking there's something wrong with him. He’s frustrated with himself now for worrying them. He doesn’t want them to be worried about him.

They have one more class before heading to combat training, and the whole time Shouto is unfocused and confused. His mind isn’t even racing, it’s just like a constant buzzing noise.

Shouto trails behind the others on the way to the locker rooms. He feels sluggish, like he’s moving at half speed. Hopefully training will knock some sense into today. Shake his brain back to normal.

He changes into his training uniform, folding his clothes and placing them into his locker. Beside him, Midoriya is humming a song Shouto doesn’t recognize, putting away his own uniform. Shouto bends down and ties his shoes. He loops them once, twice, and a third time as each one somehow comes undone. He mutters quietly to himself in exasperation

“Ready?” Midoriya asks beside him.

Shouto struggles for another moment before finally succeeding. He stands up, his stomach turning over.

“Yes,”

Inside the training room, most of the class is already there. Aizawa is waiting for them and as the rest of the class enters, he begins.

“Alright class, we’re going to continue with the individual training. I will come around to each of you and see how you’re progressing. Get started.”

With that, the class heads off to different areas of the room. Immediately there’s sounds of explosions, electricity zipping through the air, various exclamations of combat. For Shouto, they have been focusing on using both sides of his quirk simultaneously. His mastery over his cold flame is still far from perfect, and to be completely honest, it sometimes makes him anxious when he does use it. 

It’s been a few months since…since the fight. When he surpassed what he had previously done. But even though he is proud of himself for achieving more than he had ever done before, using that move still reminded him of that day. Sometimes, his emotions get the better of him and he pumps too much of one side than the other. Sometimes, he can’t even get the ice and flame to combine within him and nothing but strict flame or strict ice comes out. Those are the worst days. 

It’s something he, Aizawa, and his therapist have been helping him through. Endeavor too, in his own kind of way. It’s been hard but Shouto is grateful for the support. 

So Shouto gets to work. This, at least, he knows he can control. It’s his body, no deja vu nonsense can change that.

He closes his eyes and focuses inward. He activates his ice side, feeling the frost filling his body. Next, he lets the heat start to simmer, holding it in his chest. It flickers, low and slow, the chill curling around its edges. 

Shouto’s eyebrows furrow. He pushes more heat, burning the flame stronger. The ice retreats. It melts away too far and Shouto has to pump up the ice now, his eyebrow furrowing further.

This didn’t happen yesterday. Yesterday, he was able to combine them seamlessly, and produce a controlled flame in his hand. Now, it’s not even a flicker in him.

He rests for a moment. Opens his eyes. He looks around the training room. Above him, Midoriya is floating and using black whip to grab at stones on the ground. There’s a small tunnel in one of the rock structures, and Shouto knows inside is Kirishima, hacking away at the wall with Unbreakable. He’s gotten better at holding it too, almost up to a minute and a half, last Shouto heard. He hears explosions coming from the far back, assuming Bakugou is doing more of his blindfolded maneuvers. He’s working on strengthening his sense of hearing through the blasts. He knows Mina is there with him, the two of them have been partnering up for these individual training sessions since last week. Mina, to improve her accuracy with all aspects of her quirk, using Bakugou as her target as he does his best to dodge them. Every now and then there’s a yell, where Shouto figures Bakugou has been hit.

Shouto closes his eyes again. He focuses inward once again. Feels the flames come forth, the ice splintering down his bones. He’s frazzled, is the issue. Maybe he really is getting sick. 

He pushes further, holding up both his hands and creating a flame in one, and frost in the other. It’s not the way to do it, he knows, but he does it anyway. 

“Todoroki,” 

His eyes snap open. Aizawa is beside him.

“Don’t force it, remember? Feel it first. If it doesn’t happen today, we try again tomorrow.”

Shouto nods. Aizawa moves on.

Shouto closes his eyes again. 

The walk back to the dorm is filled with its usual chatter but Shouto’s mind is occupied elsewhere. Is it normal for deja vu to last this long? Is it even possible? He has no idea. He’s never heard of something like this.

They make it back to the dorm and stop by the front door to take off their coats and shoes.

“Do you guys want to watch the new episode of What the Quirk? It just came out,” Ochako asks.

Emphatic noises of agreement come from everyone.

Shouto hates What the Quirk.  

It’s one of those new game shows where contestants try and guess strangers’ quirks through a multitude of tasks. The concept is boring to Shouto. He doesn’t understand what is entertaining about watching people lift various boxes of different weights or cooking an egg. But the others love it, they’re always cracking up and laughing as if it’s the funniest thing ever.

“Let’s get the TV before someone else does.”

Mina and Hagakure are already on one of the couches, but they’re playing some kind of game on their phones and not using the TV. A few of them go change while the others claim the prime seating and monopolize the TV. Then, they swap.

When Shouto walks into his room the first thing he does is make sure Origin of Heroes is still on his desk. Just to be sure. Once he confirms it is, he changes into a loose pair of pants and a sweatshirt, planning on pulling up the hood to make it harder to tell he isn’t focused on the screen at all.

Back downstairs he goes to the kitchen for snacks. He gets the large bag of chips he opened yesterday (sealed now, of course) to share while they watch. He settles back onto his favorite seat on the couch, the corner with the armrest.

“Iida said you guys are watching What the Quirk, ” Kaminari says as he walks into the room, Kirishima on his heels.

“Yeah, wanna join?”

“Hell yeah!”

Shouto has nothing left in him to feel about the repetitive language. Obviously today is strange, so there’s no need to be surprised when more things feel repeated.

“Is Kacchan gonna watch?” Midoriya asks, coming down from changing too.

“Nah, he hates this show. He doesn’t get it,” Kirishima says with a shake of his head.

Shouto doesn’t blame him. He’s also slightly glad, because Bakugou always yells at whoever sits in this seat because it’s “his” spot, and Shouto doesn’t want to deal with that today.

Shouto gears up for the next hour watching What the Quirk. He wants to scream for an entirely different reason than before. Just, shit, this show sucks. He employs his hoodie trick, pulling it up and sinking into the back of the couch. Now he can peacefully zone out.

He makes a conscious effort to clear his mind, to ignore each and every thought that pops up pertaining to deja vu and repetition and strange feelings.

“Should we order food?” Midoriya asks, drawing Shouto back to the room.

What the Quirk is about to end, thankfully, revealing the calming sensation quirk for the final contestant.

“Is Bakugou cooking tonight?”

No , Shouto thinks to himself.

“I’m not sure. But I’ve been craving that fried chicken place,” Kirishima says.

“Oooh yeah, let’s order that!”

Midoriya pulls out his phone as Iida starts taking everyone’s orders. Somehow, as always happens when a food order is being placed, people magically appear in the common area to add their own orders.

“Todoroki?”

“Nothing special, I’ll share whatever we get.”

Iida nods happily, obviously pleased with the complacency and ease of the order tonight. Most times, there’s plenty of different opinions of what people want to eat or even where to order from. Shouto is easy going, always. If they get sushi, he gets an eel roll. If they order fried chicken, he’ll share the basket. No fuss.

“Any last requests?”

“Extra sauce!”

“Another basket of fries!”

They place the order for pickup, of course, and a group of them agree to go get it. Shouto goes with them, because he did yesterday.

“Are you feeling any better, Todoroki?” Ochako asks on the walk to the shop.

“Yes,” Shouto lies, “I think it’s just a headache. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Alright, good,” she says brightly, knocking their shoulders together. Or trying to, as she didn’t exactly reach up to his shoulders and more so just knocked her shoulder against his bicep.

“Try and go to sleep early tonight, huh?” she adds on.

Shouto nods.

This didn’t happen yesterday. She didn’t ask about how he felt yesterday, because yesterday he had felt totally fine. Yesterday he had no reason to feel off. 

They reach the chicken shop a little while later and pick up their food, four bags in total. Shouto pulls out the black card Endeavor had given him when he first got to U.A. and pays. He doesn’t care if anyone pays him their share of the bill, it’s not like he buys anything normally. Plus, it’s Endeavors card. He can afford some chicken for a group of high school students.

They leave the shop and begin the walk back.

“You think Aizawa-sensei eats here?” Kaminari muses, swinging the bag in his hand slightly as they walk.

“He’s probably taken Yamada-sensei here on a date,” Kirishima smirks.

“No way, Aizawa-sensei is classy!” Ochako says.

“Yeah, but Yamada-sensei isn’t.” Kaminari laughs, the rest of the group following suit.

Shouto side eyes them, glancing at Ochako for clarification. She’s giggling with the rest of them.

Shouto had no idea they were dating. But, then again, these two are always saying something strange that doesn’t make sense to Shouto.

Even hearing this yesterday, he was confused but he shortly forgot about it. Hearing it now is still confusing, but he’s even less inclined to question it now.

They make it back to the dorm, proudly showing off the food. They start to unpack it on one of the tables, people all clamoring around.

“I got the boneless wings,”

“Was there a side of mashed potatoes? I can’t remember if we ordered one.”

“Pass the drumsticks,”

“Momo, did you want a biscuit?”

“Leave a drumstick or two for Bakugou, he’s coming down now,”

“Hot sauce?”

There’s a flurry of motion as people grab what they want and pass things around the table. Shouto is hungry, even if he had chicken last night, so he grabs what he wants and then takes his seat.

He glances up when Bakugou comes down, about ten minutes later, shoving his way to the containers and grumbling to himself. He’s wearing his usual black tank top, arms on full display. Shouto’s stomach flips when Bakugou leans forward, looking into one of the buckets of food. He watches as Bakugou bites straight into a drumstick, no plate in his hand, looking around the containers for something. His eyebrows are drawn together, and Shouto has a fleeting thought of pressing his finger right in between them. Smoothing them out. Finally, Bakugou finds what he was looking for, and he throws a handful of fries and puts them on a plate Kirishima had passed him.

Bakugou sits at the other table, sandwiching himself next to Jirou. Shouto looks away then, biting into a chicken strip that he realized he’d been holding aloft for an abnormal amount of time.

They finish up eating, cleaning up and breaking off into groups. Shouto watches as Bakugou stalks back upstairs, his friends following behind him, laughing.

“I think I’m going to head upstairs,” Shouto says, turning his attention back to his friends.

“Already?” Midoriya asks, glancing at the clock.

It was only 7:45.

“Yes, I’ve got a headache. I didn’t sleep well,” he explains to them now.

Midoriya frowns, “Alright, let us know if you need anything.”

“Okay,”

He won’t.

Shouto goes up to his room, opting to use the elevator this time. As soon as he’s in his room he changes into his pajamas and brushes his teeth. He lays down on his futon with a sigh. He opens instagram and scrolls through videos of cats and funny animals. He spends hours like that, until his eyes are drifting shut.

Today was totally strange and he’s just glad it’s over. He doesn’t even know why this happened or what it even was. Thankfully, soon enough it’ll all just be a weird memory he has.

He pulls the covers up to his chin and closes his eyes. 

For once, sleep comes easily.

-=-=-=-

An alarm rings.

Shouto groans and reaches blindly to turn it off. His head is pounding, like he hadn’t slept at all, which is exactly what reminds him of yesterday. Instead of turning over he sits up quickly, rising out of bed faster than normal. His brain feels as if it’s sloshing around in his skull at the speed in which he stands. He stumbles, kicking his textbook a few feet across the room in his haste. Better than tripping, he thinks to himself, despite the dropping of his stomach and the nausea rushing up his throat, lifting his leg to clutch his now throbbing toes.

He knows for a fact he had put his book away yesterday. He rushes through getting ready, toothbrush in his mouth as he slips on his uniform pants and tries to button his shirt.

He takes a few deep breaths before opening the door to his room and stepping out into the hallway.

When he reaches downstairs, it’s a different sight than yesterday. There’s fewer people. Shouto internally sighs in relief but doesn’t drop his guard totally. 

“Good morning, Todoroki! You’re up early.” Midoriya calls out from the sink when Shouto enters the kitchen.

Oh.

Shouto only nods in response. Yes, he’s usually still upstairs at this point. 

With a shaking hand, he opens the fridge. He bends down to see inside, heart beating erratically.

Top shelf, all the way to the right, is his final blueberry smoothie.

“Midoriya,” Shouto starts, head still in the fridge, “what day is it?”

“Uhh, the twenty-seventh? Thursday, yeah.” Midoriya answers.

Shouto’s stomach drops.

“That’s what I thought.” Shouto answers with a frown, finally grabbing the smoothie and moving.

He unscrews the cap, and takes a sip. The slightly bitter taste goes down his throat easily and makes Shouto’s frown deepen.

“That good, huh?” Midoriya asks with a smile, finally facing Shouto.

Shouto just nods and looks away. Momo and Jirou come in then to get their own breakfasts, offering quiet good mornings of their own.

Shouto sits down on one of the chairs and waits for the rest of his friends to come down and get ready. Midoriya sits beside him and the two wait in comfortable silence. Well, comfortable for Midoriya, probably. But it’s anything but comfortable for Shouto. He feels all out of sorts, anxious in his seat as he sips his smoothie.

Finally, the rest of his friends have made their way downstairs and they’re ready to walk to school. As usual, no one questions Shouto’s silence. They make it to their classroom and the usual group is already there.

Kirishima, Kaminari, Bakugou, Sero, Mina, Hagakure, Ojiro, Shinsou, and Sato are scattered about the room. Shouto searches all of their faces quickly. No one’s face screams that something is wrong though.

He goes to his seat and begins taking out his school supplies.

“Oh, Todobroki!” Kaminari says, walking over to his desk so they’re beside each other, “Did you watch last night's new episode of Free?”

Shouto blinks up at him.

“Bro,” Kaminari lets out a laugh, “are you still sleeping?”

Shouto realizes he has to give some semblance of an answer. “Not yet,”

Kaminari lets out a groan, “You’ve gotta watch it, it’s such a good episode. No spoilers, but Ryuugazaki is hilarious in it!”

“Alright, settle down.” Aizawa says as he enters the room.

“Watch it asap,” Kaminari whispers, double tapping Shouto’s desk as he walks away.

Shouto looks around the room at his classmates. Midoriya is writing in his notebook, hand moving rapidly down the page. In front of him Bakugou is slouched in his chair, facing forward with his arms crossed. Shouto glances at Momo beside him. She’s waiting patiently, notebook and pens aligned perfectly on her desk as she waits for the lesson to begin. 

“Iida,” Aizawa says, motioning for him to talk.

Shouto turns his head and scans the other side of the room white Iida begins the same speech he’s heard. Both Kaminari and Kirishima have their heads propped up in their hands, looking a second away from sleep.

No one looks particularly stressed. They all seem perfectly normal. 

Ectoplasm comes in and begins his lesson. It’s the same as yesterday.

Stomach churning, Shouto leans over to Momo. “Didn’t we learn this yesterday?”

She turns to him with a genuine look of confusion. “Yesterday we did probability, not variables.”

Shouto nods, and sits upright in his seat.

He feels sick.

His focus is completely lost all morning. As soon as they get to lunch and sit down, Shouto speaks.

“Does something feel weird today?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Midoriya asks.

Ochako, who was looking at her phone, puts it down with a frown on her face.

“Just…” Shouto isn’t sure how to put it without drawing too much concern onto himself, “off. Like it’s happened before.”

“Not really, no.” Midoriya answers, his hand on his chin like he’s really contemplating it.

“Are you feeling alright, Todoroki?” Ochako asks.

“Has everything felt like it’s repeating?” Iida asks.

“No,” Shouto lies. 

Normally, Shouto hates lying. He doesn’t see the point in it. Everything would be so much easier if people just said what they meant. But here, with the way his friends are looking at him, he has to. He hates the blatant worry on their faces. Shouto refuses to be the cause of it.

They all look slightly more at ease.

“I guess this is just a weird case of deja vu,” Tsu says.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

There’s a small lull in the conversation. 

After another moment Ochako asks, “Have you guys heard about this?”, showing off the article about The Watcher on her phone.

Shouto gulps. 

He’s alone, in whatever this is.

He gets through the next class simply by staring at his notebook. He walks to the locker room with everyone else, his insides feeling squirmy. He changes into his training uniform, folding his clothes and placing them into his locker. His hands are shaking. Shouto tries not to let it show.

“Ready?” Midoriya asks.

Shouto nods and they leave together.

“Alright class, we’re going to continue with the individual training. I will come around to each of you and see how you’re progressing. Get started.”

With that, the class heads off to different areas of the room. Shouto goes to his corner and attempts his visualization techniques and focusing inward.

If he had thought yesterday was bad, today is abysmal. He can’t concentrate long enough to have his quirks coexist inside him. His flames are too strong, melting any ice he tries to bring forth. Then when he tries to start with ice, it’s so cold he can’t get any heat at all.

In a fit of frustration, Shouto accidentally shoots out a blast of frost, covering the rock face in front of him.

“Todoroki, take five.” Aizawa says, a look of concern flashing on his face. 

Shouto sighs.

It doesn’t help, and Shouto spends the entirety of training stuck in the visualization phase.

“Do you guys want to watch the new episode of What the Quirk? It just came out,” Ochako asks once they’re inside.

Everyone readily agrees.

“Let’s get the TV before someone else does.”

Shouto follows them, sits on the couch until they swap and then goes upstairs to change. His hands are shaking even more than before, so much so that he struggles to get his shirt unbuttoned and off. 

Back downstairs, he doesn’t bother with snacks. He feels ill, and the thought of eating is enough to make him gag.

“Iida said you guys are watching What the Quirk, ” Kaminari says as he walks into the room, Kirishima on his heels.

“Yeah, wanna join?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Is Kacchan gonna watch?” Midoriya asks, coming down from changing too.

“Nah, he hates this show. He doesn’t get it,” Kirishima says with a shake of his head.

Everyone settles in and they press play. Shouto draws up his hood and puts his head in his hand, leaning against the armrest.

“Should we order food?” Midoriya asks, like clockwork.

“Is Bakugou cooking tonight?”

No , Shouto thinks to himself, again.

“I’m not sure. But I’ve been craving that fried chicken place,” Kirishima says.

“Oooh yeah, let’s order that!”

Midoriya pulls out his phone as Iida starts taking everyone’s orders. “Todoroki?”

“I’ll just have whatever,” Shouto mumbles.

Others join them, placing their own orders and then Shouto is once again agreeing to walk to the shop with his friends.

“How’s that deja vu feeling now?” Ochako asks as they walk.

“Oh, it’s gone.” Shouto lies yet again, stomach dropping.

“Okay, great! You looked pretty shaken up at lunch, did it last long?”

Shouto nods then, because there is no way he can lie if she already knows, “Yes, it was from the start of the morning.”

Ochako winces, “Ugh, that sounds so freaky!”

“It was,” Shouto says.

Ochako, once again, knocks her shoulder against him, beaming at him.

They arrive, collect the food and Shouto pays, and they head back to U.A..

“You think Aizawa-sensei eats here?” Kaminari muses, swinging the bag in his hand slightly as they walk.

“He’s probably taken Yamada-sensei here on a date,” Kirishima smirks.

“No way, Aizawa-sensei is classy!” Ochako says.

“Yeah, but Yamada-sensei isn’t.” Kaminari laughs, the rest of the group following suit.

Shouto’s skin itches the whole walk back. 

Everyone crowds the table excitedly, getting their food.

“I got the boneless wings,”

“Was there a side of mashed potatoes? I can’t remember if we ordered one.”

“Pass the drumsticks,”

“Momo, did you want a biscuit?”

“Leave a drumstick or two for Bakugou, he’s coming down now,”

“Hot sauce?”

Shouto has no appetite. He doesn’t want to eat but he can already feel Momo looking at him, so he takes a few fries and chicken tenders. The only thing worse than whatever this is, is his friends worrying about him.

He’s just taking his first bite when Bakugou comes down. Like yesterday, he’s in the same black tank top. Shouto’s eyes trail across the length of his shoulders, his collarbones sharp, his bicep flexing as he grabs his food. He bites into a drumstick just like before, and just like before, Shouto’s stomach flips. Bakugou’s eyebrows are drawn together, and Shouto has an even stronger desire to smooth them out. 

Shouto looks away.

He diligently eats his food and clears his spot like everyone else.

When Bakugou stalks back upstairs, his friends following behind him, Shouto decides to leave too.

“I think I’m going to head upstairs,” Shouto says just like yesterday.

“Already?” Midoriya asks, glancing at the clock.

It was 7:45, again.

“Yes, I’m tired. I didn’t sleep well,” he says, not really a lie.

Midoriya frowns, “Alright, sleep well.”

Shouto nods and says goodnight to everyone else.

When Shouto lies down for the night, an idea strikes him.

Maybe the problem is Shouto. 

Maybe Shouto just has to act like everything is normal. He faced a glitch in the universe, and if he doesn’t replicate the day exactly like the first time, it won’t go back to normal. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. 

That’s why it hasn’t worked yet, because Shouto hasn’t been following the correct formula.

Tomorrow. 

Tomorrow, he’s getting out of this.

-=-=-=-

An alarm rings.

Shouto reaches over and snoozes his clock.

Slowly, he lowers himself back down and closes his eyes.

Yesterday, he had gone downstairs early. The Original Thursday, he definitely hadn’t. He needs to repeat exactly what he did the first time. To the best of his ability anyway, he hadn’t memorized each and every movement he made. But he can try.

He gets up at his second alarm. He actively slips on his text book, falling onto his left knee (or was it his right?) and then puts it away on his desk. Brushes his teeth and gets dressed at a leisurely pace.

“Good morning, Todoroki!”

He gives a small nod. Walks to the kitchen and reaches for the blueberry smoothie he knows is there. He chokes it down like he hasn’t been drinking the same thing for four mornings in a row. 

Shouto tosses the bottle into the recycling, putting on his boots and coat and leaving with his friends. They chatter around him, happily walking to class.

Shouto heads straight to his seat like usual, taking out his supplies.

“Oh, Todobroki!” Kaminari says, walking over to his desk so they’re beside each other, “Did you watch last night's new episode of Free?”

“I didn’t have time last night.” he answers, the original response he gave.

“Oh man, you’re in for a good one.” Kaminari winks, “If you know what I mean.”

Shouto does not know what he means. 

“Alright, settle down.”

“It’s a good one,” Kaminari reiterates, double tapping Shouto’s desk before he walks away.

“Iida,” Aizawa says, motioning for Iida to talk.

Shouto listens with rapt attention.

“Good morning everyone! As we know, this year's school festival is steadily approaching. We’ve decided to pick the theme even earlier to ensure increased success. Everyone knows we excelled last year, so we have to go even further this time.”

Aizawa grabs a piece of chalk, writing Thursday, October 27th in the top right corner of the board.

“If everyone would start to brainstorm, we can collect ideas and start to decide. Think: “what can be better than a band?” Write down any ideas that come to mind, no matter how extravagant or small.” Iida emphasizes with a series of arm movements.

“That is all,” He bows once more before taking his seat.

“Thank you, Iida.” Aizawa says.

A few minutes after that, Ectoplasm walks in and starts his lesson.

Shouto copies every equation on the board, the number sequences familiar to him now. 

He gets the original lunch he had purchased (chicken curry and rice) and carries it to his table.

“Have you guys heard about this?” Ochako asks, showing off the article on her phone.

“Oh god,” Tsu groans, leaning in to read it.

Shouto frowns too, because he assumes that's how he reacted when reading it on Original Thursday.

“Yes!” Midoriya says, “I was just researching it this morning,” he pulls out his notebook.

“According to the earliest police report, The Watcher was able to infiltrate the bank by manipulating time. Apparently they held the staff frozen in time.”

“It says here they weren’t frozen, just moving at an abnormally slow place.” Ochako says.

Tsu is leaning over her shoulder reading along, “The Watcher has been seen only in two other cases so far. Both bank robberies. One where they froze the two workers completely until a patron walked in and called the police. And one that was only discovered when the staff managed to reach the panic button thirty minutes after they left.”

“The workers all claimed they felt their heartbeats slow down, and it took roughly one minute for them to take one step.”

Iida hums thoughtfully, “Do you think they’re quirk would slow down Recipro Burst to a walk? Or the average speed of everyone else?”

“Hmm,” Midoriya flips through his book, “with these three reports, I feel like the more people The Watcher affects, the faster the affected can move.”

Midoriya turns his book so it faces Iida and Shouto’s side of the table.

“See? Their first case had only two workers, the bank was a small, local branch. Both of the workers were practically frozen in time. The next two cases were bigger banks with more workers, and they were able to move, extremely slowly, but moving regardless.”

He turns the book back towards himself, showing Ochako and Tsu, “It’s hard to say if you would be just as affected as no one they’ve gotten to has attempted to use a speed quirk.”

“What’s your best guess, Deku?” Ochako asks, her eyes warm.

Midoriya grins, his face turning red, “I’d say you’d probably be able to move faster with Recipro Burst than others. Not at full speed, probably not even half, but faster nonetheless.”

“What about my quirk?” Shouto asks.

He hadn’t asked this since Original Thursday and he could hardly remember what answer Midoriya gave.

Everyone makes a noise of wonder, Midoriya pursing his lips.

“That’s a good question, actually. We haven’t seen The Watcher up against a quirk yet, they’ve always activated their own before any one could react.”

“Maybe if you timed it perfectly, you could get a blast out even if your body is slowing down. They’re manipulating people, not the actual time, right?” Ochako asks.

Tsu nods, “It seems that way, if they’re able to move freely.”

“But what if I’m already activating my quirk, and then they hit me? Do you think the attack I’m prepping slows or reacts normally?”

“I think,” Midoriya says, “if you haven’t already released an attack, it would be slowed. It’s impossible to say if an attack had already been released, would it continue at normal speed or be slowed.”

Conversation moves on from there, and then they’re back in class and Shouto is back being the model student.

The only moment Shouto can’t make perfect without fault is training. He doesn’t have a solid grasp on this technique and his inner turmoil only worsens his control. He tries his best nonetheless, and at least today he manages to get a small spark of a cold flame in his hand.

Aizawa nods, not saying anything today, as he walks by.

“Do you guys want to watch the new episode of What the Quirk? It just came out,” Ochako asks.

Shouto doesn’t complain.

“Let’s get the TV before someone else does.”

He follows his routine, sitting and waiting on the couch until it’s his turn to go change. He goes to his room, changes into what he thinks he wore that first time, a loose pair of pants and a shirt.

Back downstairs he goes to the kitchen for snacks. He gets the large bag of chips, resenting his past self for choosing chive and onion instead of barbequed shrimp. He sits down in his usual seat on the couch.  

“Iida said you guys are watching What the Quirk, ” Kaminari says as he walks into the room, Kirishima on his heels.

“Yeah, wanna join?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Is Kacchan gonna watch?” Midoriya asks, coming down from changing too.

“Nah, he hates this show. He doesn’t get it,” Kirishima says with a shake of his head.

He actually watches the show, and tries to react how he would have (which already isn’t much. Has he mentioned he hates this show?). His eye twitches hearing the same bad jokes on the show for what feels like the hundredth time. For once, even the sound of his friends' laughter is grating. They should know these jokes, why is he the only one who remembers?

But he holds back, keeping his cool. He can’t let himself jinx it. It has to be perfect.

“Should we order food?” Midoriya asks, like clockwork.

“Is Bakugou cooking tonight?”

No , Shouto screams in his head.

“I’m not sure. But I’ve been craving that fried chicken place,” Kirishima says.

“Oooh yeah, let’s order that!”

Midoriya pulls out his phone as Iida starts taking everyone’s orders. 

“Todoroki?”

“I’m good with sharing.”

Iida nods happily.

“Any last requests?”

“Extra sauce!”

“Another basket of fries!”

The same group takes off to pick up their dinner.

“I’ve been thinking about doing some extra combat training,” Kaminari says, “some hand to hand stuff.”

Shouto had forgotten they talked about this, since the past few days Ochako had been worrying over how Shouto is feeling.

“Yeah?” Kirishima grins, “wanna hit up the center with me and Bakugou tomorrow?”

Kaminari visibly balks at the idea.

“Uhh, I think training with the two of you might be a bit much.”

“I’ll train with you,” Shouto offers.

Kaminari looks pleasantly surprised, “Really?”

Shouto nods, “I wouldn't mind getting some more hand to hand combat training in.”

“I can come too,” Ochako says, “I’ll show you some new martial arts.”

Shouto sincerely hopes they can make it to Friday.

They arrive at the shop, each of them taking a bag and thanking the workers as Shouto pays. At least this part never gets old, he thinks to himself, sliding over Endeavor’s black card.

“You think Aizawa-sensei eats here?” Kaminari muses, swinging the bag in his hand slightly as they walk.

“He’s probably taken Yamada-sensei here on a date,” Kirishima smirks.

“No way, Aizawa-sensei is classy!” Ochako says.

“Yeah, but Yamada-sensei isn’t.” Kaminari laughs, the rest of the group following suit.

Once again, Shouto doesn’t question it despite wanting to even more so than before. They make it back to the dorm, brandishing their food proudly, and start to unpack it at the table.

As always everyone crowds the table excitedly, getting their food.

“I got the boneless wings,”

“Was there a side of mashed potatoes? I can’t remember if we ordered one.”

“Pass the drumsticks,”

“Momo, did you want a biscuit?”

“Leave a drumstick or two for Bakugou, he’s coming down now,”

“Hot sauce?”

Shouto takes some wings and fries, trying to remember what he must have taken originally. He sits in his seat and begins eating. He swallows roughly around the food, but chokes it down regardless.

There’s noise from the stairs and Shouto knows it’s Bakugou coming down. A flash of heat crawls up his neck as he assumes he had watched Bakugou the Original Thursday, so that’s what he does today too. He watches him, chewing on a fry, as Bakugou looks through the buckets in front of him. Bakugou rummages through them, Kirishima sliding a plate towards him like always. Shouto lets his eyes roam. It’s annoying, honestly, how attractive Bakugou actually is. It’s like he was built with the intention of making Shouto realize he was definitely gay, and all Shouto is allowed to do is spare a glance here and there. 

His eyes run over Bakugou’s chest, the broad expanse of his shoulders and the way his collar bones jut out just so. He drinks in the muscles of his arms, bulkier than Shouto’s own. His eyes trail slowly up to Bakugou’s face and to the furrow of his brow. And then–

And then Bakugou looks up. He looks Shouto dead in his eyes and it’s like time stands still. 

This has never happened. 

This is brand new. 

Shouto stares back, no idea what kind of face he’s making. Whatever it is, it makes Bakugou frown, a weird expression crossing his face, eyebrows tightening and eyes narrowing but somehow brightening. Then he’s throwing some food onto his plate and stomping over to his usual seat.

Shouto’s blood is pumping, his heart thumping against his chest. He can hardly believe what had just happened. He’d quite literally stared at Bakugou so hard, checking him out so blatantly, that it made Bakugou go off script. He didn’t even say anything, he wasn’t even trying to call attention to himself. Apparently his stare had been so intense today Bakugou actually felt it.

Shouto’s only solace is the fact that—if the day restarts again—Bakugou won’t remember this tomorrow.

Shouto helps clean up and when he sees Bakugou and his friends heading upstairs, he stays in the common room with his friends. He most likely hadn’t gone upstairs until 9 or 9:30 originally, so he has to follow that.

Shouto sits with his friends and after a few minutes Momo comes up to him, book in hand.

“I finally finished this, Todoroki,” she says, brandishing it.

Almond by Son Won-pyung. 

It’s actually a book Shouto’s therapist recommended he read, after a long session where Shouto apprehensively explained his fear that he didn’t know how to understand his own emotions aside from the highly volatile ends of the spectrum. Through trial and error they came to the conclusion that Shouto couldn’t stand to read self-help books. He hated feeling like a specimen, whether it was intentional or not, and that’s how those books made him feel.

And so, his therapist turned to fiction. Shouto was given this book about a young boy with alexithymia, a condition which makes it hard for him to feel or understand emotions. Yes, it’s a work of fiction and yet Shouto felt it helped better than any of those self-help books had.

He’d leant it to Momo about a week ago. Not in a way to therapize her but because the two of them swapped books back and forth before and this seemed like something she would enjoy.

“What did you think?” 

Shouto finds this is one conversation he doesn’t mind having again.

“Oh, it was just so compelling, wasn’t it?” Momo begins, “I read your annotations, answered with some of my own.”

Shouto nods. It’s something they do, write to each other through annotations.

“It was beautifully written,” Momo says.

“Yes, you could really feel what was going on in his mind, despite himself.” Shouto agrees.

They continue their conversation, dissecting the book in low voices so as to not disturb the others around them. 

People start heading up to their rooms about an hour later. Shouto leaves when Midoriya does, following him to the elevator and then bidding him a good night. In his own room, Shouto changes into his pajamas (just those blue checkered pants he always wakes up in), brushes his teeth, and lies down. He probably went to sleep at about 11, so he scrolls through his phone until then, his eyes getting heavy.

At the stroke of 11, he places his phone away and closes his eyes.

He lets out a deep breath. Today was as perfect as he could have tried, so there’s nothing more he can worry about now.

-=-=-=-

An alarm rings.

Shouto stares up at the ceiling and just lets it ring and ring and ring. 

He knows the loop hasn’t ended. He can feel it in the way he jolts awake, the sunlight that’s streaming in, the position he’s lying in.

He hits his alarm without looking, and then checks his phone.

Thursday, October 27

Shouto is fucked.

His morning passes– surprisingly–exactly the same way because of course it does, he’s stuck in a freaking time loop with no end in sight.

Obviously trying to recreate the Original Thursday meant nothing, so Shouto doesn’t bother taking notes or doing anything for class. What he wants to do is go back to his room and lie down and realize this was all some crazy dream. Instead, he’s stuck at his desk contemplating his situation.

So, he’s in some kind of time loop. That much is clear now. What he doesn’t know is how it started or how to end it. Did Shouto unknowingly do something to activate a time loop? He didn’t think so. He hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary the Original Thursday. 

At lunch, Shouto buys the first thing he sees, uncaring about what it is because he knows he won’t be able to stomach more than one or two bites.

“Have you guys heard about this?” 

Shouto ignores her in favor of pulling out his own phone. He opens the internet and searches “stuck in a time loop”.

Thousands of results come up, almost all about villains of ages ago with some kind of time power. He scrolls through article after article, reading as fast as he can. There’s one, a recent villain named Bruco, captured by All Might. But he’s been imprisoned for the last decade. 

When the bell rings Shouto tucks away his phone and follows his friends back to class and prepares for the mind numbing sameness.

It’s the worst training day Shouto’s had so far. 

He can’t get a clear head, his mind reeling, going over and over the articles he read. None of them really stood out, giving minimal information on the quirks. If he had access to the quirk database, he could learn a lot more. What if there’s a villain out there right now who trapped Shouto in this? Maybe they’re waiting for the perfect time to strike.

Training ends and Shouto walks back to the dorm with his friends.

“Do you guys want to watch the new episode of What the Quirk? It just came out,” Ochako asks.

Shouto would literally rather train with Endeavor than watch that one more time.

He shakes his head, “I’m actually going to go to my room for a little bit.”

“What’s wrong? Do you feel okay?” Midoriya asks.

“I’m just tired.”

“Let us know if you need anything,” Iida says.

Shouto nods and then heads upstairs.

Once he gets to his room he changes into more comfortable clothes and pulls open his laptop. 

He looks up time loops again. He’s pretty much exhausted his search on related villain articles. Right now all he has to go on is only events that were newsworthy. And, like he found before, most of them are from decades ago.

He moves on to the second most related search: movies.

There are hundreds of movies that come up, and Shouto begins opening up wikipedia pages for the most relevant (interesting) sounding ones. Then he chooses one that is apparently the ‘quintessential time loop film’ and starts it.

He watches the intro, an absolute dick of a weatherman reporting on a supposed Groundhog Day holiday, where a small rodent predicts the weather. He watches, hoping there will be some kind of sign, some awesome force that comes down and starts the loop, but nothing does. The main character just wakes up and is stuck in the loop, much like Shouto himself.

Shouto puts the movie on x2 speed. He continues to read the plots of other movies as he lets this one play in the background.

…becoming a better person…

…confessing his love to her…

…having a change of heart…

…sharing her love for her family for the first time…

Shouto focuses back on his movie, the main character is doing all these things to become a better person. He watches for a few minutes then continues reading.

…leaving the path of villainy…

…following her heart…

…accepting that he truly does love him…

He looks up again when the movie is ending. The main character has had a whole arc, no longer a bad person and he’s won over his love interest. Maybe, if Shouto had actually wanted to watch the film, it would have been enjoyable. As he’s watching it for research purposes and the takeaway was “fall in love and don’t be a dick” he’s less than impressed.

With this movie over, Shouto plays another. This one is centered around a never ending Christmas. Once again, he plays it at x2 speed and continues reading about time loop media, books and video games and television shows.

This one ends much in the same way as the first one. 

His phone buzzes beside him as the movie is finishing up.

Midoriya Izuku 

We’re ordering chicken! Want anything special?

Me

No thank you. I’ll pay 

Take Endeavor’s card

It’s in my coat pocket

Midoriya Izuku

*explosion face emoji* thanks Todoroki-kun!

Shouto loads the next movie he had picked out. It’s on the shorter side, and with it on x2 speed he’ll be finished by the time the food arrives. The intro to this one is much more promising, a strange crack forming in the earth and emitting an even stranger glow. 

Shouto is drawn in, and actually gasps at the first reveal, about 10 minutes in. 

This movie has two people trapped in the loop alongside the main character. Shouto is intrigued. He watches it for a little bit until the movie gets into the more silly section. Then he goes back to reading.

…realizing what a horrible person she had been before…

…forgiving her father…

…refusing to let his love die…

He focuses again at the climax of the film. The main character is confessing his love for the woman trapped in the time loop with him.

Shouto frowns. He doesn’t have anyone he wants to confess to, but a lot of these movies seem to be relying on that. They escape the loop a few minutes later, the power of physics on their side.

That makes Shouto frown too. They made it out of the loop after months, because the main girl studied advanced physics. Shouto is smart, but smart enough to teach himself physics? Not to mention, he’d have to find the magic cave and build a bomb for it to work.

Shouto is just finishing the movie when he looks at the time. It’s 6:50, so his friends should be back now.

He takes the elevator down and everyone is sitting at the table unpacking the chicken.

“Leave a drumstick or two for Bakugou, he’s coming down now,”

“Hot sauce?”

“Todoroki, we saved you some wings!”

Shouto thanks them, taking up his normal seat and accepting the food offered to him. 

A few minutes later Bakugou comes down, shoving his way to the containers and grumbling to himself. Shouto glances up as he bites straight into a drumstick, looking around the containers for something.

Is he going to look at Shouto again?

Was it a fluke?

Shouto’s heart is racing again, and he’s finding it hard to look at Bakugou. Bakugou looks the same as usual, his eyebrows drawn together. Though, if it’s possible, he looks even angrier than yesterday. 

Shouto looks away. 

He can’t help himself though, so he looks up again. Red eyes are already staring at him. Shouto almost chokes on his own spit. Bakugou’s stare is hard and Shouto feels caught in it. He wants to react, to do something, say anything, but he can’t. He’s frozen, and it almost seems like Bakugou is too. They just stare at each other for a long moment.

Finally, it looks like Bakugou is going to say something, and then he’s being nudged by Kirishima, “Yo before you sit, grab me one of those biscuits over there,”

Both Shouto and Bakugou jerk their attention to him. Kirishima is oblivious to Shouto’s shock, already digging back into his food.

Bakugou makes a weird strangled sound in his throat and Shouto looks back at him.

Bakugou doesn’t look back at him though. He reaches over, grabs a biscuit, and tosses it onto Kirishima’s plate.

“Thanks man,”

And then Bakugou goes straight to his usual seat and Shouto wants to scream.

He should do something, right? But he already knows how it would go.

“Why were you staring at me, you Icyhot weirdo?”

“Because I like looking at you and being stuck in a time loop makes it easier.”

Right…

Even being stuck in a time loop couldn't get Shouto to say that to him. In front of the rest of their class, no less.

But still, what made Bakugou look at him today? Yesterday, Shouto was egregiously eyeing him, he can admit that. But today he could hardly look at him.

But, maybe that was the issue. He kept glancing back and forth, maybe that drew Bakugou’s attention. It’s the only solution that makes sense, so Shouto accepts it.

Nothing else weird happens, so Shouto is more easily swayed to write it off.

They finish up eating, cleaning up and breaking off into groups. Shouto watches as Bakugou stalks back upstairs,  right on time and exactly the same as usual, his friends following behind him.

“I think I’m going to head upstairs,” Shouto says, turning his attention back to his friends.

“Already?” Midoriya asks, glancing at the clock.

It was 7:45, obviously.

“I’ve got a headache. I didn’t sleep well,” he repeats from yesterday.

Midoriya frowns, “Alright, let us know if you need anything.”

“Okay,”

He feels sick. He had hardly eaten a bite of food all day so he feels sluggish and tired, his head hurts and he kind of wants to cry, if he’s being honest. But he can’t let himself rest, not yet.

Shouto gets straight back to work. More movies, more books, more of everything he can find. A common thread he finds is staying up until midnight to beat the loop. It never works of course but Shouto figures he may as well try, headache be damned.

It’s already past 10, so Shouto doesn’t have much longer to wait. He turns on another movie with a sigh. They’ve been getting increasingly worse and worse, and this one doesn’t look promising.

The movie is almost 2 hours long so Shouto leaves it at normal speed. He rearranges the pillows on his futon, grabbing the armchair pillow Momo had gotten him for his birthday that year. He leans against it and settles in. The movie is strangely captivating. It follows a cruise ship that gets caught in a time loop with some kind of crazed killer onboard.

Shouto is left in confusion and shock at the bizarre ending. He doesn’t know what to make of it but regardless, it’s already 11:47.

He doesn’t have much longer to wait. He closes his laptop and puts it on his floor beside him. He grabs his alarm clock, the quiet ticking getting louder as he holds it up to his face. In his other hand, he holds his phone. 

11:50.

Ten minutes. In ten minutes, Shouto either wakes up or will blessedly get to watch the minute hand on his clock keep ticking.

Anxiety begins to roll over him, his stomach twisting. He starts to sweat, droplets pricking up against his forehead.

11:54.

Shouto’s hands are shaking. It makes the alarm clock make a small tinny noise. He lets out a breath.

11:59

-=-=-=-

An alarm rings.

Shouto eyes burst open and he sits up in a flash, grabbing his phone.

Thursday, October 27

“Fuck!” 

He hurls his phone full force against the wall across from him.

There’s a distinct shattering sound and a dissatisfying crunch as it lands on the ground.

He’d watched the clock, it was literal seconds ago he was upright in bed with both his phone and alarm clock in front of his face. 

But–

It never reached midnight. He doesn’t even feel like he’d been asleep, just that he took an unnaturally long blink.

His alarm clock is still ringing, shrill and impossible to ignore. He chucks that at the wall too. Glass flies in all directions as it falls to the ground. The alarm dies off in a whine, dropping in pitch and stretching the final note.

Shouto looks down at the ground beside him and sees his textbook. He reaches for it, grabbing at the cover and then tearing into the pages, ripping at them twenty at a time, dismantling as much of the book as he can. He shreds the already torn pages further, tossing pages across the room and scattering little pieces around his bed as he does.

When just the cover remains, he lights it on fire, watching the heavier paper blacken and start to flake off. He holds it in his hand and just stares, adding more and more flame until his hand is indistinguishable from the rest.

He doesn’t stop until the book is reduced to ash, littering his bed and the floor and him. 

Shouto kicks at his sheets, roughly balls up his quilt and throws it across the room. A frustrated noise leaves his mouth as he stands up and trudges to the bathroom.

Staring at his reflection only makes him angrier. He’s powerless in the worst way possible, unable to do anything to stop this day from repeating. Without a second thought, his fist slams into the glass, spider webbing out from the point of impact, three or four pieces imbedding themselves in his fist.

He grabs his toothbrush and starts brushing his teeth roughly, gaze tearing away from the mirror and staring down at the sink. The anger bubbles up in him so much he feels like he’ll explode. 

It’s a horrible feeling really, like it’s clawing its way out of him. He grips the side of the sink with his free hand.

He spits in the sink, a mixture of toothpaste, spit, and blood pooling towards the drain.

Shouto looks up at the mirror again, face to face with a splintering image of flames licking up his face, engulfing his hair. He swats them away in a rush. He hadn’t even noticed, hadn’t felt the heat. He finishes washing up quickly, adrenaline in his blood.

He walks back into his bedroom and walks barefoot through the ash and scraps to his desk. He pulls out a first aid kit, going for tweezers and some band aids. With more caution than he’s had all morning, Shouto removes the small pieces of glass from his hand. The cuts aren’t too deep, thankfully, and only two really need a band aid. The rest are small enough they won’t bleed much.

He covers the bad spot in between his first and second knuckles and then has to use two more band aids on his index and ring fingers where the glass cut deepest. He leaves the garbage there, because it’s not like it’s going to make his room look bad.

Shouto pays no mind to stepping through the ash again and stepping on top of his blanket as he gets his uniform for the day. He dresses with a blank mind, energy slowly seeping out of him.

The only thing he feels even a remote emotion about is when he goes to put on his socks and sees the black ash stuck to his feet. He wrinkles his nose and goes to the bathroom, wiping them down with a damp cloth before he puts on his socks.

He goes downstairs and immediately joins his friends at the door. He puts on his coat and shoes, not bothering to get his smoothie. He doesn’t even feel hungry. 

The entire morning Shouto doesn’t move a muscle. Once he sits down in his seat, he stares at the chalkboard and waits. He notices the people talking around him, can hear the side conversations he’s memorized.

When Kaminari comes up to him, Shouto barely manages a hum in response. His hands clench into fists at his sides. Kaminari seems to realize something is off, so he ends the conversation quicker than usual.

Shouto spends the entire morning like that, not bothering to take a single note or even open a notebook. He sits in the back, so presumably the teachers don’t notice or they trust his academic skills enough to not bother looking. Either way, no one says a word to him, not even Momo.

He has a feeling she must know something is off and rather than confront him about it here, she’ll do it later when she undoubtedly lends him her notebook.

Every repeated word, every identical gesture has Shouto grating his teeth. He feels like he’s at the end of a very, very, short fuse. It’s not an emotion he is familiar with.

Shouto drags his feet with every step to lunch, dread sinking like dead weight into his stomach. He accepts the first food option at the counter and has to physically tell his body to move to their table. His friends are settling down already.

A deep breath.

He sits down.

Deep breath.

“Have you guys heard about this?”

Shouto erupts.

“Shut the fuck UP! Shut up about the article, shut up about today, shut up!”

Shouto stands in a rush, his chair toppling over behind him.

Everyone is staring at him in complete shock, mouths dropped open and eyes almost bugging out of their heads.

Shouto looks away from the table, his eyes catching on Bakugou of all people. Bakugou, who looks entirely spooked, eyes impossibly wide and mouth in a thin line.

Shouto looks away, more annoyed than before, and stalks out of the eerily quiet cafeteria. He doesn’t care, not like anyone will remember this outburst.

He makes it only a few steps out of the cafeteria before he's stopped.

A hand grabs onto his wrist tightly, forcing Shouto to whip his head back around. He expects Midoriya, or Ochako, maybe Momo.

What he doesn’t expect is Bakugou Katsuki looking even more like he’s seen a ghost.

“You’re not supposed to do that,” Bakugou says through gritted teeth, almost like he has to force the words out.

Something flares in Shouto’s stomach. 

“Excuse me? I didn’t realize you were the only one allowed to get mad,” Shouto snaps, trying to yank his arm free.

“No,” Bakugou shakes his head and tightens his hold, “I mean, you’re not supposed to do that. You’ve never said that, that’s not how today goes.”

The pit in Shouto’s stomach drops, his hair standing on end. “What?”

“I’ve been living the same day for almost a week straight, and you don’t do that. Did I do something to you? Hah? Why’re you different today?”

Shouto is frozen, arm going limp in Bakugou’s hold. His heart rate skyrockets, all the pressure like a loud pumping in his eardrums.

“You didn’t–I’m not-” the words jumble together in his disbelief, “I’m stuck too. Thursday. Over and over.” he finally manages.

Bakugou sucks in a gasp of air, his eyebrows all but disappearing under his hair.

Shouto stares at Bakugou. Bakugou stares back. Neither of them seem able to speak.

“ Hey!– oh,” a confused voice yells from behind them, “what’s going on?”

Shouto manages to draw his eyes away from Bakugou’s face. 

Kirishima is standing there with Iida, their other friends rushing over from the cafeteria.

They all seem confused, some still poised to separate whatever fight they assumed would be coming. 

Neither of them answer. 

Shouto looks back at him. Bakugou is still facing Shouto, he hasn’t even turned around.

He has so much to say and no idea how to say it. Bakugou is here? He’s aware of the loop too? Stuck in it? Just like him?

Shouto can’t catch his breath. He feels like he’s just finished an intense fight, breaths coming out in erratic bursts, heart racing, blood pumping.

The bell sounds and the hallways start to fill with people. Still, they don’t move.

“Uhh, guys? You alright?” Midoriya asks.

Bakugou gulps. He stares at Shouto so intensely that it makes his chest clench. He whispers,  “We need to talk.” 

Shouto can only nod in response.

“I don’t know what lame ass shit you’ve been doing everyday afterschool, but you’re not doing it today.” Bakugou adds on.

Finally, Bakugou turns around, dropping Shouto’s hand.

“Mind your own fucking business, idiots.” 

And he stalks away, leaving a very confused group behind.

Shouto doesn’t offer any insight to his friends either, he just heads to their classroom as normally as he can. He feels jittery and absurdly close to tears. He’s shaking, actually, and he stuffs his hands in his pockets to try and ignore it. His head is swimming with questions. Each one is half formed and fleeting, cutting themselves off as every new one emerges. 

He can’t even look in Bakugou’s direction when he walks past him to his seat. It’s all too much to handle and if he makes eye contact with Bakugou he doesn’t think he’ll be able to control himself.

That doesn’t mean he ignores him once he’s sitting though. He can’t take his eyes off the back of Bakugou’s head, eyes boring into his skull like it will make time pass faster. It’s not like he has to pay attention to the lesson anyway. He’s practically got it memorized.

Despite the fact he hadn’t focused on Bakugou before today, he’s pretty sure the other boy is acting off. He’s fidgeting a lot, twirling his pen in his hand and dropping it on the floor three times. He turns around once and upon seeing Shouto already staring at him, swallows roughly and faces forward. His shoulders are tense the rest of the afternoon.

Shouto can relate, because he almost gets up and out of his seat multiple times because he can’t wait to speak to Bakugou. If he thought this morning was a strange emotion for him, it’s got nothing on how he feels right now.

He’s practically vibrating in his seat with how eager he is for the day to end. 

Shouto is so worked up that he has issues controlling his quirk in training, but this time in the complete opposite problem as before. Now he’s getting so much of both quirks without meaning too, both of them dancing at the tips of his fingers effortlessly. They’re not combined, but Shouto couldn’t care less.

He can’t help it.

He’s not alone.

He’s actually not alone. 

There’s someone else going through this exact same thing.

For the first time in five days he feels a hint of a positive emotion. Bakugou is smart. He’ll have an idea of what’s going on.

“I have no idea what the fuck is going on,” Bakugou says, striding right up to Shouto at the end of training. 

Shouto deflates slightly.

“Oh,”

“I’ve got some theories, obviously, but nothing I think is right. And besides, you being here throws everything off.”

Shouto nods, already finished packing his bag in his haste and closes his locker. They head to the door. 

“I don’t want these extras eavesdropping,” Bakugou mutters, “so we’ll talk back at the dorm.”

Shouto agrees, so he nods and breaks off from Bakugou.

It’s slightly pointless, since the whole group walks back together.

Again, Shouto finds it nearly impossible to take his eyes off of Bakugou. He’s a few feet ahead of them, walking with his own friends. 

It’s new, this is all new. 

Bakugou and his group are usually already far ahead of them. So far Shouto hasn’t actually seen more than a glimpse of Kirishima’s red hair on the walk home. Now he’s close enough to see how Bakugou’s hands are stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, his shoulders hunched. 

Shouto lets out a quiet breath, trying to expel the nervous energy he feels. It’s not that he’s nervous , it’s just that he’d thought he was alone this whole time. It's a relief to know someone is there with him. He feels…giddy, in a weird way.

“Do you guys want to watch the new episode of What the Quirk? It just came out,” Ochako asks once they’re inside the dorm.

Shouto definitely doesn’t, and not just because of Bakugou. Now he has a real excuse to not watch it.

“No thank you, I am going to hang out with Bakugou.” Shouto says.

His friends all look surprised, Midoriya’s eyes go comically wide, his mouth dropping open. Ochako makes a small squeak of a gasp, turning to Iida whose mouth is also agape.

“Is everything alright, Todoroki?” Iida asks arm outstretched.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“It’s just…since when did you and Kacchan hang out?”

“We have something to discuss.” Shouto explains. 

He doesn’t understand why they’re staring at him like this. He and Bakugou are friends. Friends hang out. And besides, he doesn’t have time for this. Bakugou is waiting for him.

“Yo, Icyhot! Hurry the fuck up!” Bakugou calls from the stairway.

Strangely, relief floods through Shouto’s body. This is new.

More heads turn now, Hagakure and Mina turning from where they’re already sitting on the couch.

Kaminari mockingly calls out “Icyhot!” in a poor imitation of Bakugou.

Shouto just walks away from his friends and over to Bakugou. They walk up the stairs silently, stopping at the fourth floor. A weird feeling blossoms in Shouto’s chest when he realizes they’re going to Bakugou’s room. 

It makes sense, obviously. They don’t want to be overheard so they need a place to talk privately. And Bakugou’s room is technically closer than his own.

Bakugou opens the door without a care, heading straight to his dresser. Shouto watches him from the doorway as he takes off his blazer and hangs it up neatly.

“You can sit, you know.” Bakugou points to his bed. He starts to unbutton his shirt, fingers deftly undoing the top four before Shouto rips his head away. When Shouto still doesn’t move, Bakugou continues, “I’m not freaking diseased. Sheets are clean.” 

Shouto finally sits down, albeit at the very edge of the bed. He hears Bakugou laugh lightly to himself and he frowns. He doesn’t turn his head back to him, the image of Bakugou’s fingers quickly undoing his buttons replaying in his mind. 

He instead stares at the desk opposite him, taking in the things Bakugou deems important enough to have on display. There’s a framed photo of his family. They seem to be caught in a candid moment, someone’s birthday maybe, a cake in the center of the table. Bakugou’s mouth is wide open, probably yelling if Shouto had to guess, his mom with a wide grin and pointing at something out of frame, while his dad laughs openly at them.

Above that, taped to the back of the desk, is a photo booth strip. Shouto’s too far to make out details but recognizes Bakugou’s group of friends regardless.

He hears clothes hit the floor, presumably in a hamper, if the rest of Bakugou’s incredibly neat room is any indication.

Bakugou crosses the room, dressed in sweatpants and that same cursed black tank top. He sits across from Shouto, lounging comfortably against his pillows.

It feels different to be hanging out with Bakugou alone in his room. Shouto can’t think of a single time he’s hung out with Bakugou one on one. Well, aside from when they were working on getting their provisional licenses. But even then it wasn’t like he and Bakugou were exactly hanging out. They were just forced together due to circumstances.

But being alone together in one of their rooms? Unheard of. 

Shouto can count on one hand the number of times he’s even seen the inside of Bakugou’s room, and most of them (3 of 4) were because of Midoriya. The only time he’s knocked on the door on his own was actually due to provisional licenses, he had to double check what time the first lesson was.

It ended with Bakugou cursing him out for being so forgetful, so all in all a normal talk with Bakugou.

“You want to change too?” Bakugou asks. He’s staring at Shouto.

“No, I’d rather not waste more time.”

Bakugou eyes narrow immediately. 

“You fucker…” he mutters, “talk then.”

Shouto doesn’t know where to start. There’s so much to ask.

“How’ve you been?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, “Amazing, Icyhot.”

“How did you know you were looping? It has been six days for you too, right?”

“Yeah, it’s been six days. And I knew I was looping right away. Or, I knew something was up.”

Shouto stays quiet, waiting for Bakugou to continue.

“You know how I keep a strict schedule?” Bakugou starts and Shouto nods because everyone knows that. “Well every Friday I run in the morning, I’ve got an alarm always set for six. When my alarm went off it was already six forty-five. There’s no way I fucked up my alarms, they’re always set.”

Bakugou shakes his head, “I was annoyed, obviously, but when I looked at my phone it still said Thursday. So then I was thinking my phone just glitched out or something. Only when I went downstairs…”

“Everyone was acting the same as the day before.” Shouto finishes for him.

Bakugou nods.

Shouto continues, “The first day I was just confused. I thought somehow I had…dreamt the day already. But I couldn’t be sure everything was exactly the same.”

Bakugou is nodding in agreement, “Thought it was just some crazy deja vu shit or something.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Have you told anyone? Said anything?” Bakugou asks next.

Shouto frowns, ”I didn’t want to worry anyone. And, I thought talking about it would mess up the space time continuum.” 

He’s watched a lot of time loop movies.

Bakugou narrows his eyes, “You been watching those shitty movies?”

“No,” a beat. “Some.”

Yes, any he could find.

Bakugou grins lazily, “Me too. I did a lot of research into time loop things. Fell into some rabbit hole and found some crazy Swedish movie,” Bakugou explains, “it was…weird.”

Shouto is sure he knows the one he’s talking about.

“What about you? Have you tried telling anyone?”

Bakugou shrugs, “Not really. I brought up time loops to Shitty Hair but never said I was in one. Fucking…space time continuum shit.”

“What’d he say?”

Bakugou shrugs again and averts his gaze. He looks at the door behind Shouto, “We didn’t talk about it that long. He basically just said the trope can be pretty cool, especially in a horror setting. Otherwise he’s pretty indifferent to the romance plots.”

His face looks kind of pink now, Shouto thinks.

“Yes, I noticed that,” Shouto answers, moving slightly so he’s back in Bakugou’s line of sight, “A lot of the movies are about the two main characters falling in love.” 

Bakugou makes a noise of agreement, his eyes flitting back behind Shouto.

Shouto turns around. There’s an All Might poster plastered behind the door. He’s confused.

“Is that what you were looking at?”

“Hah?”

“The poster. You stopped looking at me, so I thought there was something behind me. But you must know that poster is there. You hung it up.”

“I–fuck off, idiot. Holy shit,” Bakugou says, his face going more red.

“Do you want to open a window? You look warm.”

“Get the fuck out of my room!” Bakugou yells abruptly, getting up from his bed in a rush. He faces the wall, back turned on Shouto.

Shouto is bewildered.

“No. Sit back down, we’re not done talking.”

“I’m not taking orders from you.”

“It’s not an order, Bakugou. Just sit down.”

“Fuck off.”

Shouto sighs.

“Fine, we can finish this conversation with you standing. At least face me again.”

“I can’t believe I’m fucking stuck with you.” Bakugou mutters. 

This makes Shouto frown. It’s not like he chose for this to happen.

“It’s not like I made this happen, Bakugou. I wouldn't have chosen to be stuck with you either.”

Bakugou whips his head around at that, glaring.

Both boys let out a loud huff and look away from each other. Shouto’s heart rate is spiking again, his blood starting to simmer. He hears Bakugou breathe harshly out of his nose.

The tension rises around them uncomfortably as both boys try not to start a fight. Shouto doesn’t want to fight, especially now that Bakugou is inexplicably the only other person stuck in this loop with him. Bakugou sighs. They’re both quiet for a few minutes, seemingly trying to calm themselves down.

Bakugou sits back down. He crosses his arms across his chest. They’re shaking slightly.

Shouto understands. His are too, have been since he found out Bakugou was stuck.

“I wouldn’t have chosen to be stuck at all. Is what I meant.”

“Yeah, well, me too. Idiot.”

Finally, he looks at Shouto again.

“Why do you think this is happening?” Shouto asks. He adjusts so he’s sitting more comfortably, feet no longer on the ground.

“I don’t know, I can’t figure it out. But there’s gotta be a reason we’re both in it.”

“Have you tried to stay up all night yet? To beat the loop?”

“Yeah, last night. Didn’t work.”

“So did I.”

“Maybe we have to be together, for it to work.” Shouto says.

Bakugou shrugs, “Worth a shot. We can try tonight.”

Shouto already has his next question poised.

“How awful have your conversations been?” Shouto asks.

Bakugou snorts, “ Terrible .” he glances over at Shouto, “Do you know what it’s like to hear Kirishima rank the same missions with Fat Gum and Amajiki-san for a week straight?”

Shouto nods his head in understanding, “Kaminari keeps coming up to me every morning to ask me about the new episode of Free, and I still haven’t watched it.”

“Maybe if you finally watch it it’ll stop the time loop.” Bakugou jokes.

Shouto pauses, “You might be onto something. I mean, it can’t hurt to try.”

He stands up, going to the door, “Come with me.”

To his utter surprise, Bakugou follows. Not without more complaining, of course.

“ Come with me. ” Bakugou mocks, dropping his voice an octave to sound more like Shouto, “Quit telling me what to do.”

“I do not sound like that,” Shouto complains right back, opening the door to the stairwell and going up to his room, “And besides, you’re the one following me.”

“Only because you complained about wasting time. Fucking spoiled princess can’t handle a five minute pause. Rather sit around in your uniform all day.”

“You don’t agree? You’d rather not try and break the loop, Bakugou?” he asks, opening the door to the hallway and walking towards his room.

“Maybe if you didn’t act so–” Bakugou’s voice dies off as Shouto opens his door.

Shouto slams it back shut, his heart hammering in his chest.

“I didn’t–I wasn’t–I forgot. I forgot. I forgot I did this.” He stammers, not taking his eyes off the door.

His heart is pounding. Why is it pounding? Why is he stuttering? 

His hand is still on his doorknob. 

“Are you…alright?” Bakugou asks quietly and Shouto hates it.

“Hell, I get it, Halfie. You think I don’t get it?” Shouto closes his eyes and lets out a breath.

“I’m not gonna judge you, I don’t give a shit.”

For some reason, that makes Shouto open his eyes. Then, he opens the door.

It is, of course, exactly how he left it this morning.

There’s papers all over the floor, scraps that are charred and burnt and others that are torn to shreds. There’s black footprints across the floor, marking Shouto’s morning movements.

He steps in and lets Bakugou in before he shuts the door. On his right are his phone and alarm clock, quite literally smashed to pieces.

“I always knew you were strange, Halfie, but this is something else.”

Shouto whips his head at him, but Bakugou is smirking, eyes on Shouto.

Oh, he’s teasing him.

It makes Shouto’s stomach flip.

Bakugou steps further into the room, eyeing it without a word. He does his best to avoid the streaks of ash from getting onto his house shoes. 

“I’ll just get my laptop, then we can go back to your room to watch it.” Shouto says, heading to his desk.

“Hold on a sec, Halfie.” Bakugou says gruffly, grabbing the small garbage bin next to Shouto’s desk.

“You got a broom or something?”

“Uhh,” Shouto’s mind is blank.

A broom?

“Think, Icyhot. I swear if you’ve never swept in here in the year we’ve lived here, I’ll blow up this room. Probably needs it too, gotta get rid of the diseases in here.”

“I do, I do.” Shouto says, walking to the side of his dresser and pulling out a small hand broom and dustpan.

“Thank fuck,” Bakugou says, grabbing it from him.

He crouches down and begins sweeping up the ash and paper on the ground.

“Maybe next time don’t get ash all over the tatami,” Bakugou says, glaring up at Shouto.

Shouto is even more confused now. Why is Bakugou cleaning his room? And why is he mad? Like Shouto is making him do it?

“There’s no point in cleaning it,” Shouto reminds him, “It’ll be back to normal in the morning.”

“Obviously, dumbass,” Bakugou snaps, still sweeping up the ash and paper.

Shouto watches him out of curiosity and confusion as he goes about cleaning Shouto’s room. He doesn’t understand why he’s doing it.

“‘S that your phone?” he points to the corner.

“Oh, uh, yes it is.” Shouto says.

He feels his ears burn.

“Funny, I broke mine on day three.” Bakugou says, striding over to it and sweeping up the glass. He picks up the phone and frowns.

“It’s completely shattered, you’ll probably cut your fingers if you try to use it.”

Shouto looks down at his already bandaged hand. He looks back up and Bakugou is watching him. Bakugou snarls, picking up the small brush and looking down at the glass again.

“I can’t believe you still use a freaking analog clock. What are you, eighty years old?” he mutters as he sweeps up the glass. “What’s even the point, you’ve got a perfectly fine phone. Obviously not now because you smashed it to pieces, but seriously Icyhot, just use the damn alarm on your phone.”

“Are you done mocking me, Bakugou?”

Bakugou glares up at him and then huffs.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful, dumbass. Go put those blankets in the wash, I’m not doing everything for you.”

It feels weirdly like whiplash, going from Bakugou mocking him to making sure his room is cleaned. Shouto is so bewildered with the entire situation he simply listens. He gathers the heap into his arms and turns back towards Bakugou.

Bakugou has finished cleaning the glass, dumping it into the garbage and is sweeping more of the mess of papers away on this side.

“I’ll…be right back then, Bakugou.”

Bakugou only grunts in response.

Downstairs, the TV is on with the show playing. Shouto’s never been more relieved to be missing quality time with his friends. 

Their heads turn to his arrival though, and Midoriya speaks up, “How’s it going with Kacchan?”

“Fine. We’re cleaning my room now,” Shouto says and then adds on, “I don’t know why.”

“Was your room dirty?” Ochako asks.

“Not more than normal.” He places his quilt into the washer.

A wreck, honestly.

Midoriya hums, “Kacchan stress cleans.”

Shouto throws some detergent in the washer and closes the lid.

“I didn’t ask him to. We were in his room at first, we just needed my laptop. We’re going back to his room.”

The group sitting on the couch glances at each other, making some kind of expression Shouto can’t decipher. He tries to anyway, watching their eyebrows raise and eyes darting towards each other. He realizes they’re probably confused why they needed his laptop in the first place. Shouto hadn’t explained that they were going to watch a show, so they’re probably confused.

“We’re going to watch Free,” Shouto explains. 

Their faces get even more exaggerated, Ochako and Tsu looking at each other with bug-like eyes.

“Just the two of you?” Midoriya asks.

“Yes.”

“That sounds fun,” Tsu says, elongating the vowels in ‘fun’.

They all look at each other again.

Shouto’s already confused from trying to figure out Bakugou’s whole deal, he has no patience for them too. He turns on the washer.

“If you have something to say, you might as well just say it.” Shouto says, staring at them blankly. 

His friends always tell him to just ask them to clarify something when he doesn’t understand, and he’s gotten better at it these past few months. Even with the annoyance clear in his voice today.

“It’s nothing!” Midoriya says.

“It’s just,” Ochako looks at him curiously.

“We didn’t know you and Bakugou were so close.” Iida continues.

“We’re friends,” Shouto says, more confused. They know that already. “We’re just going to watch something in his room, because we were talking about it. It’s part of the bigger issue.”

“Bigger issue?” Iida asks.

Shouto shakes his head, “I don’t have time to get into it right now. Bakugou and I are still talking about it.” Shouto explains.

“Is this about what happened at lunch?” Ochako asks.

Shouto feels heat rise to his face. He hadn’t apologized for his outburst, he’d been so distracted by Bakugou. 

“No, and I’m sorry for yelling at you. It was uncalled for. I should have apologized sooner, I’ve been having a strange day but that doesn’t excuse my behavior.”

Ochako’s eyes soften. “Thanks, Todoroki.”

“Did something happen between you and Bakugou? Do you need help?” Iida asks.

Shouto shakes his head again, “No,  Bakugou and I can handle it.”

“Right, right.” Midoriya says, letting out a small laugh.

“I don’t want to keep him waiting longer.” Shouto says, and starts heading towards the elevator.

“Have fun, Todoroki!” Ochako says, smiling.

It feels…weird. It’s not her usual smile. Shouto sees that everyday.  This smile seems forced, kind of. Shouto can’t figure it out. They’re all looking at him strangely.

They each call out their own goodbyes, and Shouto lifts his hand in a wave. He goes back upstairs with his friends' weird faces on his mind.

“Took you long enough,” Bakugou says when the door opens.

Shouto’s room is spotless, no sign of debris anywhere.

“You cleaned the whole room?”

“What else was I gonna do, shithead? You were gone fucking forever.”

“Midoriya said you stress clean.”

Bakugou snarls, “Don’t listen to that shitty nerd, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And fucking- who wouldn’t be stressed! I’ve lived this shitty day for a week straight!”

“Are you embarrassed? You’re turning red,”

“Fuck you! You should be embarrassed, you fucking dumbass, half n’ half, idiot, bastard! Your room was the one that was trashed! You’re fucking lucky I did any of this!”

Ah. That is true. His room was a mess, Bakugou didn’t have to clean it at all. Now Shouto can feel his own face heating up. 

“You’re right. Sorry, Bakugou. You didn’t have to do all of that. It’s not usually a mess, I was just…frustrated this morning.” he internally turns up his cold quirk to stop the blush on his face.

“Hah? Shut- Shut up, idiot, don’t apologize. The hell? I didn’t do it out of charity, fucking- fucking only took like twenty minutes anyway, I didn’t even care.”

Oh.

Bakugou is glaring at him, his face still pink.

Shouto stares back.

Bakugou is strange.

“Do you want to watch Free?” Shouto asks.

Bakugou’s eyes narrow more and he shoves his hand in his pockets, “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? But I’m not sitting on your dirty ass floor, only so much I can do with ash on tatami.” Bakugou heads to the door.

Shouto nods, grabs his laptop, and follows Bakugou back to his room.

They don’t talk as they walk back upstairs, Bakugou multiple paces ahead, stomping up the steps. Bakugou rips open his door, barely holding it for Shouto so he speeds up slightly, catching the door and following him inside.

Bakugou flops back onto his bed, sitting against the wall and kicking off his slippers. Shouto goes to the bed, sitting at the edge again.

“Not this shit again,” Bakugou grumbles, “Sit back or I can’t see the fucking screen.”

Shouto shuffles back so he’s sitting against the wall. He opens his laptop and enters the password.

His mind is stuck on the faces his friends made.

“Is it weird for us to hang out like this?” he asks as he searches up the new episode.

Bakugou tenses next to him. “What?” 

“My friends seemed to think it was weird.”

“Hah?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t really say anything, but they made this face.”

Shouto tries to make the face, eyebrows raising, lips going into a slight frown, and staring off to the side at an imaginary other person.

Bakugou bursts into laughter, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you make an expression, let alone one like that,” he laughs more.

“Well,” Shouto huffs, looking away from Bakugou, “that’s what they did.”

“That’s like a…”surprised about the situation” face. They’re being fucking nosy.”

Shouto looks back and Bakugou has an amused grin on his face. 

“Oh, that makes sense.” Shouto says, “they like knowing things.” 

Bakugou rolls his eyes, “Besides, there’s fucking shitty ass extenuating circumstances here, ignore them.”

Shouto nods, but now that he thinks about it, it is strange that he and Bakugou don’t hang out like this more. They’ve been friends for almost a year now.

“How come we never hang out like this? I hang out with Midoriya, Momo, and Sero like this all the time, and no one is nosy about that.”

“Because we aren’t friends, Icyhot. I don’t hang out with people who aren’t my friends.”

“Well, we hang out as a group all the time. And, we are friends.”

“No. We don’t. And we are not fucking friends, are you serious?”

“We do. We always hang out in the common room. We had a movie night just this past weekend. We are friends. You’re one of my first friends.”

Shouto’s not embarrassed by that, not at all. After Midoriya, Bakugou was the first person at UA who he was focused on. Sure, at first it was purely competitive but it didn’t take long for Shouto to realize he actually cared about Bakugou as a friend. And now, well, now Shouto maybe focuses on him for another reason too. But they are friends!

Bakugou’s eyes go wide and then his face settles into a scowl, “No.”
“Yes.”

“Oh fuck off, are we gonna watch this or what?”

Shouto nods, the corner of his mouth raised.

“Have you watched it before?” Shouto asks.

“No, Dunce Face doesn’t shut up about it though. Wants UA to open a swim club, but the hero course can’t even join clubs so I don’t know what the fuck is he expecting. You think it’s good?”

Shouto nods as he logs in, “Very good. If you like sports anime.”

He shuffles closer to Bakugou and tilts his screen so they can both see it comfortably.

It’s as the intro starts rolling that Shouto realizes he may have put himself in an awkward position. Now, Shouto isn’t the kind of person who gets caught up in awkward situations, pretty much ever. He can sit in a tense silence and feel totally unaffected. One of the few perks of having Endeavor as a father, he supposes.

But not right now, not with Bakugou sitting beside him, watching this intro play on.

The intro features the main characters in various scenes, most of them swimming, and a lingering shot of each character shirtless. It never seemed scandalous until now. 

He shifts in his seat, the laptop tilting a bit before he straightens it out. After what seems like the longest intro ever (seriously, was this an extended cut or what?) the episode continues on.  

Unfortunately, this episode just happens to have the cast of characters go shopping for new swimsuits. To Shouto, it appears like a revolving door of shirtless men on screen. Each person tries on at least two swimsuits each, and the shots linger on each one.

“It’s not usually like this.” Shouto says.

“Isn’t the whole show about the swim team?” Bakugou questions, as if pointing out the obvious.

Shouto nods. 

The episode plays on. The atmosphere is suddenly stifling to Shouto. He is acutely aware of the lack of space between him and Bakugou as they both watch the small screen of Shouto’s laptop.

Shouto’s not ashamed about his sexuality. But he’s not immune to the fact that this is his and Bakugou’s first one on one hang out, and Shouto’s making them watch a parade of half-clothed men. And…Shouto is not immune to the fact that Bakugou is attractive. It’s a simple fact. He’s heard plenty of their classmates giggle and talk about Bakugou and his signature scowl, his arms, the way he walks, and uses his quirk. 

He remembers one instance, where he was hanging out with Momo and Jirou, mostly listening to them. And Momo had said, “If Bakugou didn’t scowl so much, he’d be much more handsome,” and Jirou had shrugged and said, “It’s not the scowl that’s the issue, it’s his attitude,”.

Shouto had been confused when they said that. Neither of those things made Bakugou unattractive. If anything–and Shouto feels a blush creeping up his neck thinking about it now–it only made him more attractive. He’s arrogant to the extreme, so self assuredly confident that it should be annoying but that cocky attitude doesn’t grate Shouto. That doesn’t mean Shouto doesn’t give him shit for it, he’s only human after all.

His constant scowl made the times he broke it to laugh unabashedly or uncover a genuine smile all the more special. But even with that scowl, the furrowed eyebrows and the near constant frown, he’s handsome. Pretty. Shouto has found it increasingly harder and harder to look away. 

And here he is now, sitting close enough to Bakugou that he can feel the warmth coming off of him. He knows he’s not the best at picking up cues or things like this, but this feels ironically pointed.

On screen, Ryugazaki tries on a particularly flamboyant swimsuit.

“I’m gay.” Shouto says abruptly, loudly.

Bakugou turns to him with a snap of his neck. When Shouto doesn’t look at him, Bakugou turns back to the screen.

“I’m bi.” Bakugou says.

“Oh. Cool.”

They’re both quiet.

“Guess you should watch this show then.” Shouto says.

“Oh, fuck off,” Bakugou shoves him.

The episode ends shortly after that, the outro playing and filling the room with music.

“Well,” Shouto clears his throat, “what did you think?”
“I think, if this is all we had to do to break this loop, you shoulda just watched it ages ago.”

Shouto lets out a breath of air from his nose, not really a laugh but close to it. He exits the tab and shuts his laptop, the room cast in shadows from the now set sun.

“Why’d you tell me that?” Bakugou asks, turning to him.

His face is somewhat obscured in this light. But Shouto can see the reds of his eyes staring directly into Shouto’s.

“I don’t know, it felt…weird. In here.”

Bakugou scowls (pretty) and says, “You’re weird,”

“And, it wasn’t a secret or anything. Was…is yours a secret?” he asks quietly.

“Hell no,” Bakugou scoffs, “as if I’d care what people knew how I get my dick wet.”

Shouto rolls his eyes at Bakugou’s choice of words and he sees Bakugou smirk in response.

“I didn’t know that you like men too.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know that about you either.”

They level each other with hard stares.

“So what, you into pretty boys or something?”

Shouto is silent. Is he? He thinks Bakugou is pretty, but he wouldn’t say that is Bakugou’s defining feature. He’s certainly handsome. Rugged, even. He only started to look pretty to Shouto after they became friends. 

“I think,” Shouto says after perhaps too much time deliberating, “if you’re into someone, don’t they automatically become pretty to you?”

Bakugou makes a somewhat surprised face and says, “Huh, I guess so.”

It’s quiet for a few moments.

“So, you and Ponytail? You never…?” Bakugou trails off.

Shouto stares blankly at him. “Never what?”

“God, you’re annoying,” Bakugou huffs, cheeks red, “You were never into her?”

Shouto understands now. He shakes his head no.

“Momo and I are just friends. I don’t have any feelings other than platonic ones for her. Also, I’m gay. Why?”

Bakugou crosses his arms and looks away, “Can’t I just ask a question? Jesus,”

Shouto’s body feels tingly.

“Well, what about you and Kirishima?” Shouto asks.

Bakugou scoffs, “Not into him, Halfie.”

“He’s got nice arms,” Shouto muses. He doesn’t even know why.

“Yeah, he’s hot,” Bakugou agrees, then he’s grinning–not his usual one, it doesn’t fully reach his eyes– “You into Shitty Hair?”

Shouto shakes his head, “I like him like a friend, and like we both said, he is attractive, but I’ve never thought about him like that.” 

“Deku?” Bakugou asks next, and his stare has turned hard.

“He’s my best friend. But I don’t like him like that either.” Shouto answers and then turns the question back on Bakugou, “Are you into Midoriya?”

“Don’t be stupid, Halfie. You think I would have been a huge dick to someone I had a crush on?”

Shouto shrugs, “It is a common trope, isn’t it? Enemies to lovers?”

Bakugou groans, “You need to stop watching those shitty movies.”

“What about Jirou?”

“She’s cool as fuck, but no.”

Shouto nods, annoyingly content that Bakugou doesn’t like any of them like that. 

A loud ringing fills the room, startling them both. Shouto pulls his phone out of his pocket.

Midoriya is calling him.

“They must be about to order,” Shouto says before carefully swiping to answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey! I texted you, but you must not have checked your phone. We’re ordering some food from that chicken place down the road, do you and Kacchan want anything special?”

Shouto glances at Bakugou, who had gotten up to turn on the light, and answers, “I’m good with whatever, just make sure Bakugou gets some drumsticks.”

“Okay, awesome! It should be like an hour or so til we get it. 

“Take Endeavor’s card from my coat pocket, you can use it to pay.”

Bakugou makes a contemplative sound, and when Shouto looks at him, he just nods his head in his direction.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“How’s it going up there?”

“Good.”

“Nice.”

There’s a pause, and muffled voices on the other line and Midoriya says, “No, I’m not asking that, Kaminari,” before saying much louder, “Okay, I’ll let you guys have fun! Come down whenever!” and promptly hangs up.

“Kirishima usually orders drumsticks for you, so I figured that would be fine,” Shouto says as he goes to put his phone back in his pocket.

“That reminds me,” Bakugou says as he sits back down, “what the hell was that at dinner the past two nights?”

Shouto falters, his phone slipping out of his hand and landing on the mattress next to him.

“The chicken?” Shouto asks dumbly, grabbing his phone and shoving it into his pocket.

“The staring, actually.”

He looks up, and Bakugou looks actually curious, even through the ever present casual annoyance written on his face.

“Did you figure something out or what? Because I didn’t think you were in the loop till today.”

Okay, Shouto thinks, no need to explain exactly why he was staring, just that he was.

“Not exactly, no. You always come down late, so I usually watch you,” Shouto tries not to wince at the way he worded that and continues, “I think I zoned out or something that day, and then you looked up and I got thrown off because you never did that before.” 

Bakugou nods, “Yeah, I mean, I was so in my head the first few loops I guess I didn’t notice. But then the first day when I looked at you, I freaked out too. Then I figured I’d check again the next loop, and when you were still looking I figured it was part of it.”

Shouto hums in understanding, “I actually got more freaked out when you looked up again. I was going to say something but—but then Kirishima said something new too, and then you didn’t change anything else, so I figured you just felt me looking again,” 

Bakugou laughs then, “You looked like you were gonna shit your pants when I looked at you. I thought you were like, I don’t even know, embarrassed cuz you got caught staring.”

Shouto’s body warms up considerably. “Well, I wasn’t not embarrassed. But it was more jarring that you looked up again.”

“Oh yeah?” Bakugou raises an eyebrow, an easy smirk on his face, “why were you staring anyway, huh?”

“I already told you,” Shouto says, his mouth dry, “You come down late. Eyes are drawn to movement, Bakugou. Didn’t you know that?”

“Mhmm,” is the response he gets, Bakugou’s smirk not faltering. He crosses his arms over his chest, and Shouto tracks the motion, because of course he does.

He looks abruptly back up to Bakugou’s face.

The way Bakugou is looking at him right now, the careful scrutiny of his gaze, makes Shouto feel laid completely bare.

“Movement,” is the weak explanation Shouto gives.

It makes Bakugou laugh, hearty and full, and Shouto can’t help the slight smile that forms on his own lips.

“It’s kind of surprising,” Shouto begins because he refuses to sit in this conversation any longer, “that you didn’t fly off the handle days ago.”

“Ha ha.” Bakugou says dryly, “Surprised I didn’t have a public freakout like you did?”

Shouto rolls his eyes in response.

“Nah, honestly I am too. But, it seems like me and you have had a similar thought process behind everything. First two days were just totally confusing, then I figured maybe I had to redo the original day, and then yesterday I had a stupid meltdown and trashed my room like you did.”

Shouto looks around the room, and can’t picture it looking anything but neat.

“What’d you do?” he asks. He doesn’t really expect Bakugou to indulge him.

“Just threw shit around, I guess. Fucked up the stuff on my desk.” he gestures to it, and it’s as clear of an invitation as Shouto can see.

He gets up–grateful for a bit of distance between the two of them–and goes to Bakugou’s desk.

Upon further inspection of it, Shouto can see the photo booth strip clearly. It’s six of them squished into a very small frame. Bakugou is in between Mina and Kirishima, Kaminari laid across their laps, with Shinsou and Sero on the edges. The others are making silly faces throughout, Mina reaching over to poke Bakugou’s cheek while Kaminari pulls on his other. Bakugou’s grimacing fully in the next one. In fact, the last photo has his hand raised, the familiar crackle of light in his palm.

Shouto feels the corners of his mouth twitch up. It’s a funny photo.

“It was kind of cathartic, but then my fucking room was a mess so I had to clean it up before I went to bed anyway.”

Shouto grins, “Even though you knew it would reset?”

“Unlike you, I’m not gonna spend the night in a dirty room.”

“Ah, speaking of,” Shouto says, “I’ve got to move my laundry over.”

Bakugou gives him a thumbs up in response, no longer looking at him as he pulls out his phone and starts scrolling.

Shouto assumes that’s his cue to do it alone, so he leaves Bakugou’s room and goes downstairs.

The dinner crowd has already gathered, plates set out on the table. Tsu is noticeably absent, Shouto figures she must have gone to the chicken place in his absence. 

“Roki! How’s it going up there?” Sero asks with a grin, leaning against one of the empty washing machines.

“It’s been good, we watched Free and talked.” Shouto answers as he loads his blankets into the dryer.

“Ah, is Bakugou treating you nice?” Sero asks, his eyes bright.

Shouto is good friends with Sero, and he likes to think he can read him pretty well. He’s teasing Shouto, but Shouto can’t think of an explicit reason he has to. He hasn’t told anyone, not even Midoriya, about thinking Bakugou is attractive. There’s no way–with all due respect to his dear friend–that he would tell Sero, known member of the Bakusquad.

“He’s being Bakugou,” Shouto says in response, which earns him a laugh.

“You know, I wouldn’t have pegged Bakugou to be a Netflix and Chill kind of guy. Thought he’d be more into doing some kind of outdoorsy activity.”

“We didn’t use Netflix,” Shouto clarifies, which earns him another laugh.

“Right, right.”

Shouto has no idea what Sero’s getting at, so he just turns the dial for the dryer and presses start.

“What are you guys gonna do now?”

Shouto thinks for a moment. Bakugou hadn’t technically told him to come back upstairs, and the food will be here soon at this point. Bakugou probably wants to be alone, he usually is at this time anyway.

“I guess I’ll stay down here.”

Sero looks genuinely surprised. “Really? You guys aren’t gonna do anything else tonight?”

Shouto is confused again. First, his friends could hardly fathom him and Bakugou hanging out alone, now Sero doesn’t understand why they aren’t hanging out?

“I mean, we’re planning on staying up later but nothing specific.”

This strangely seems to placate Sero. “Alright, that’s what I’m talking about.”

Shouto feels his headache coming back. “I was wondering,” he says, “can I borrow the next volume of Slam Dunk? I finished the one you leant me last week.”

“Yeah man! I’ll grab it for you next time I go up to my room. What’d you think about the last chapter?”

So Shouto spends the rest of his time before dinner arrives talking with Sero.

Bakugou comes down at the same time as usual. This time he’s staring at Shouto from the staircase. Shouto waits for him to get to the table before he says, “The chicken still tastes just as good as always.”

Bakugou nods his head, “Yeah they don’t fuck around. I’m getting tired of takeout, though. I’ll cook something tomorrow.”

“We probably won’t have any leftovers anyway, Kacchan,” Midoriya says.

Bakugou just looks at Shouto and smirks. Shouto feels that same warmth in his chest. He likes this, having a little secret that only he and Bakugou know. 

They finish eating and clean up. Shouto brings some plates to the kitchen and when he comes back to the common room he expects to see Bakugou and his friends heading upstairs.

Instead, Bakugou is sitting on the couch.

“No point in waiting upstairs,” he grumbles as Shouto sits down beside him.

His friends stay down here too, the common room more full after dinner than normal for today. 

Someone turns on the TV to a show Shouto doesn’t know. Momo walks up to him, holding his book in her hand.

“I finally finished this, Todoroki,” she says, brandishing it.

He spends a bit of time talking to her about it, enjoying the conversation all the same as before. 

“Can’t believe Bakugou is gracing us with his presence so late,” Kaminari teases.

“Well, he and Todoroki have plans later. That’s what I heard,” Sero adds on.

“You two need your heads screwed back on, huh?” Bakugou mutters from his seat.

In return all he gets are snickers of enjoyment.

Mina puts on a movie that Shouto has actually seen before, so he half watches it and scrolls on his phone.

People start to head upstairs once the movie ends, calling out good nights through yawns and shuffling feet. Shouto isn’t sure if he should go to Bakugou's room or not. Shouto isn’t dumb, he knows what the implication would be if he goes to Bakugou’s room at this hour. And, he doesn’t feel like having Bakugou scream and yell and throw a tantrum because he did. It seems like something he’d do.

Instead, Shouto brings his bedding back upstairs and makes his bed, killing time because he’s not sure how long he should avoid going to Bakugou’s room. At 11, he figures it’s probably safe, everyone must be back in their rooms, so he quietly makes his way downstairs and softly knocks on Bakugou’s door.

He’s anxious.

Bakugou opens the door without a word, letting Shouto in.

“Hi,” Shouto whispers.

Bakugou makes a quiet noise in response.

Shouto sits at the desk chair, turning it slightly to face where Bakugou has sat back down on his bed. He checks the clock on Bakugou’s desk.

11:03.

“Tomorrow, what do we do if this doesn’t work?”

“Reconvene. We’ve gotta come up with some kind of plan as to why this is happening.”

“Have you thought maybe it’s a villain?”

“Course I have, but I haven't been able to find anything yet.”

They quiet for a few minutes, lost in thought.

“Did you do anything strange? On the original day?” Bakugou asks.

“Not that I can remember. I went to class, came back here with everyone else, and then went to pick up dinner. That was the only time I left campus, and we didn’t run into anyone unusual.”

Bakugou nods, “Me neither. I didn’t even leave campus at all, I was in the dorm the rest of the day.”

11:19.

“Do you think it’s something we’re not doing? Is there something we need to solve, or figure out?”

Bakugou makes a contemplative noise, “It’s possible. I don’t know what the hell it could be. But, why else are we stuck?”

Shouto nods.

“If we do have to solve something, do you think it’s related to us or to an outside force?”

Bakugou looks off in the distance. He doesn’t answer for a long moment.

“Like hell if I’d know,”

11:22.

As the minutes tick down, the atmosphere in the room grows more and more tense. They don’t speak for a long time, neither seeming able to say anything. Shouto shifts in his seat, clasping his hands together. He glances at Bakugou, who’s got his bottom lip worrying between his teeth.

Shouto’s anxiety is rising. He can’t help but feel slightly hopeful that this would work. Logically, it won’t. Shouto knows that. And yet…

11:51.

“It’s not going to work,” Shouto mumbles.

Bakugou looks over at him. Shouto is stunned, in a way, to see the nervousness he feels mirrored in Bakugou’s eyes.

“Probably not, no.”

They glance back and forth between one another, the seconds ticking down, down, down.

“What time do you wake up?”

“Seven.”

11:59.

“I’ll see you then, Halfie.”

An alarm rings.