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jace-todd · 3 years

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Late Night Cherry Tea

@convexed-parallel you asked for Hitoshi and Shouto and so I'm delivering! Trying to get more comfortable with writing and publishing said writing.

possible spoilers??? i don't know, i gave canon the middle finger

Word count: 2155

read on ao3 here

Shouto was hoping this wouldn’t become a new habit. But for the third night in a row, he’s found himself sitting on the counter in the kitchen, a bowl of soba cradled in one hand. The clock above the oven flashes 2:52 am, illuminating the room every time. He didn’t bother to turn on any lights when he came down, just reached into the back of the fridge for his food and crawled onto the counter. It wasn’t proper etiquette to be sitting here, and if Katsuki or Momo (or Fuyumi) were to see him, they’d tsk and tell him to get off. For a moment, he wanted them to be here, standing in front of him, their arms crossed, talking to him about how late-night habits. Then he’d glance down at his hands and rethink it.

Sleep and Shouto have always had a fickle relationship. After trainings with his father, Shouto found sleep to be a blissful release, taking him somewhere better than reality. All the ache in his bones, the exhaustion that hung off him like chains, the shaking in his hands and the ever-present taste of vomit would disappear as he slept it all off. Sleep was a warm embrace, gently moving your head down to their shoulder, fingers brushing through your hair and rocking you to sleep. Sleep was faint memories of his mother holding him, from before, her cold hands holding him up as she moved through the house, Natsuo and Fuyumi following closely and talking softly while Touya stood silent further away.

Then they’d have nights like these. Shouto would lay in the dark for hours, twisting and turning, chucking the blankets off, and then pulling them back on not a moment later. He would listen to one of Fuyumi’s sleep playlists, close his eyes and pray to whatever deities were above that he’d be granted at least two hours. Sleep would kick his ass, coming only to give him horrible nightmares of burning water, a towering figure, blue fire. Sleep was the cold embrace you felt when it was winter and you’re underprepared, frost nipping at your nose and fingers, still present even after you rub your hands together. Sleep became his tormentor, a false promise of protection, allowing him in to stop it all only to hold him down and force him to remember all of the worst times.

During anniversaries like this week, it was the latter. Touya’s death anniversary was coming up – though he wasn’t sure if that was still true. Echoing words of Dabi’s ‘that’s sad Shouto Todoroki’ wouldn’t leave him, a sense of familiarity lacing the way he said his name. He knows he’s grasping for straws, some sort of conclusion, an answer to years-long uncertainty involving Touya. But if there’s any possible chance, Shouto wants to think about it. Maybe if they have just an answer, Natsuo won’t be as distant, as angry. Maybe if they had just something to work off of, Fuyumi could breath a little easier, let her shoulders untense. Maybe if Shouto could find any trace, his Mother would be happier about their family, sleep better at night knowing all of her kids were alive and okay.

Maybe he’d be able to get some sleep.

Shouto sighs, looking back down at the cold noodles. He isn’t any less awake than he was an hour ago, heterochromatic eyes blinking slowly as he forces himself to untense his shoulders. The noise from his slurping is comforting, masking the rumble of the fridge and the clicking from their broken wall clock after Izuku slammed his shoulder into it during one of their movie nights that turned into rough housing. He wonders if it’s too late to turn on something on the tv and settle himself there for the night. The last thing he wants to do is wake anyone else up.

“You good?” The baritone voice startles Shouto out of his thoughts, originating somewhere near the entrance of the kitchen. He jerks his head up to see who it is and the sight of his newest classmate greets him.

Shinsou doesn’t look any better than he feels, eyes half-lid from accustomed exhaustion, one hand on the back of his neck and the other hiding in a pocket. His purple hair is down for a change, covering most of his face and neck. It’s a weird sight. He’s been in the class for a couple of weeks now, ever since Mineta’s expulsion. They haven’t interacted much outside of training sessions or Izuku dragging them out. Though, from what he’s heard Shinsou hasn’t been interacting with anyone since joining outside of forced encounters.

It’s strange for anyone else to be up this late, even Denki has tapped out by now. Fumikage is the only exception, the bird’s insomnia a pain in the ass to beat that Shouto often finds him when he’s awake. He’s good company when Shouto can feel his mother’s hands holding him down and hear a sizzle of a kettle long since put out.

Shouto twirls some more noodles, “I’ve been better.” The night finds him more vulnerable and open that the teen normally is. Shinsou hums in acknowledgement, making his way further into the kitchen to start gathering things from the fridge and the cabinets. It’s odd to share a space with someone this late at night. It’s odd to be living with anyone at all. Living back at the house, it was mostly cold and lonely. Fuyumi’s got herself a girlfriend so her presence isn’t a comfort Shouto can turn to. Natsuo has long since moved out to college. His father has never been warm and comforting. Going from that silence to a dorm with twenty other teens had been a lot to handle.

The clock now says 3:28 when Shouto finishes his soba and puts the container in the sink to clean later. Izuku and Katsuki didn’t wake up for training for another two and a half hours, and Shouto didn’t have anywhere to be until ten am. There was time to go upstairs and try again for sleep or there was time to start that show Mina was talking to him about. Neither happened when Shinsou spoke again. He had nearly forgotten the other male was there. Shinsou was awfully quiet.

“Here.” Shouto finds a mug being shoved into his hands. It’s hot and Shouto lets frost cold his hand down as he holds it, looking up to see Shinsou jumping onto the counter across him, holding his own mug. He isn’t used to this either, someone looking out for him and making him things when he can’t sleep. Fuyumi tried her best but Shouto always shoots her down so she can sleep. He loves his sister dearly but her sleep was important.

It’s tea, that much he can tell by sniffing, though there’s some sort of cherry addition to it. He shrugs and takes a sip. It’s good; warm and sweet on his tongue and happy memories blossom with it. Natsuo’s cherry syrup on his pancakes and waffles, him flipping Shouto off when he had teased him about it, Fuyumi’s disapproving voice telling them to cut it out. Touya’s red tongue as he sticks out, a free hand holding a cherry lopstick, hoarding the candy to himself, a slight pinch of a smile visible. Fuyumi’s cherry chap-stick she buys every time she runs out that always ends up in Shouto’s bag. Shouto can’t help but inhale the scent and cradle it close to his chest.

“Nightmares?” Shinsou speaks softly, as if he’s afraid he’s going to be yelled at for talking this late at night. There’s a grumble to it that makes him think of Aizawa-Sensei and Shouto’s half-tempted to ask if they’re related.

“No. Just old memories.” Shouto takes another sip from the mug, a soft smile irrepressible as he kicks his feet back and forth to do something.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He’s been asked that before. When his mother burned him. When she was sent away. When Touya died. When Natsuo screamed at their dad and he ran to hide in his room. When Fuyumi told him that she was going to be around less. When he’d wake up screaming and crying. Shouto hates that question.

“No. What is this?” He lifts up the mug and Shinsou nods in acknowledgement.

“It’s a tea concoction my sister used to make me when I couldn’t sleep. Makes you real sleepy, just wait.” Shouto didn’t know that Shinsou had a sister. Though, Shinsou probably doesn’t know anything about his family either. He wonders about the past tense. Did she move away? Like Natsuo did? Was she dead like Touya? Or did Shinsou shoot her down like he did to Fuyumi?

Silence lapses between them again as Shouto thinks. Shinsou sits perfectly content across the kitchen, his own legs tucked under him, scrolling through his phone as he sips from the mug. The lightning makes the purple look black and when Shouto gets caught staring, the purple eyes look black too – just a ring of it swimming in pure white. He holds the gaze, though Shinsou just chuckles and goes back to his phone. It seems easier to breathe with the company, the oppressive weight Shouto had easing just a bit as Shinsou’s quiet reactions and them drinking fill the air. Shouto observes his new classmate and drinks the tea.

When it’s done, he finally talks again. “My brother’s death anniversary is coming up and I can’t stop thinking about it. He died when I was a kid, I barely knew him, but he meant a lot to Fuyumi and Natsuo. Father still has photos of him in the house though I’m not supposed to know that. Touya was the blueprint for everything that I am. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why we weren’t close, because my Father threw him to the side when I manifested my quirk. I think Touya took pride in his quirk and being a hero but it changed when I came around. I guess that’s why I’m so transfixed over it.” Shouto lifts his gaze. Shinsou’s phone is nowhere in sight and the empty mug is sitting next to his thigh. Purple eyes are locked on his. Undivided attention.

“It’s stupid but… when Katsuki was kidnapped, when I tried to get the marble back from Dabi, he said something. He said my name, my full name, and I can’t shake this feeling.” Shouto clenches his fist, “This feeling that there’s something off about that guy. I just want closure for Touya and I think that Dabi has something to do with that.” If Izuku were listening, he’d insist that they’d dig up everything they can. Izuku would overanalyze and ramble about that fight and everything little detail about Dabi. If Katsuki were here, he’d smack Shouto’s back hard and tell him to stop thinking so much, they’d catch the bastard and Shouto would get his closure – all of it in his own way.

Shinsou slides off the counter, softly walking over to stand in front of Shouto. “It’s not stupid. I’d give anything to find out who killed my sister. Closure helps you move on and sleep at night. It makes everything just a tad bit better, though it may not seem like it. You want to know even if the answers aren’t desirable because at least its an answer, at least you know. You want to be able to finally tell your family you know what happened to your brother and sleep the entire night. There’s nothing stupid about that, Todoroki.”

A firm hand sits on his shoulder, “We’ll find out what happened to your brother, Todoroki. We’ll solve this mystery, okay?” Shouto stares into determined eyes and finds himself nodding. Shinsou’s ambition got him into the hero course through it all and it reminds him of Izuku. A lopsided smile overtakes Shinsou’s serious expression, the hand disappearing to take the empty mug from his loose grasp. “Now go the fuck to sleep.”

The faucet is turned on and Shinsou gets to work with cleaning the evidence they were ever down in the kitchen. Shouto jumps off the counter, heading towards the elevator. The tea did it’s job, his eyes are heavier, his limbs relaxing without his permission and the fog of sleep starting to drift in. He stops though, turning to look at Shinsou over his shoulder. “Hey, Shinsou?” There’s another hum and the other student looks at him. “Thank you.”

“Any time. Next time you can’t sleep, come find me. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Maybe he can’t climb into his mother’s bed after nightmares. Maybe he can’t turn to his eldest brother to show off his accomplishments. Maybe he can’t click with Fuyumi or Natsuo anymore. But he does know that maybe next time he can’t sleep, he can find some comfort in the brainwasher. Shouto takes a deep breath and presses the up button on the elevator.

#shinsou hitoshi #todoroki shouto #my hero academia #hannah's writing #you can interpret this as platonic or pre-relationship #totally up to you

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