Archive of Our Own ^beta

The newfound volume of the dorms is something close to a feeling that Shouto had been used to, once.

Living with his father — in the moments when he wasn't yelling and Shouto wasn't arguing back with him — made Shouto get used to the kind of quiet that felt like the entire framework of a house was buckling under grief and misery.

His siblings lived in the house too, for a time as Shouto grew up, but it's not like Shouto interacted with them much. He'd hear Natsuo's anger through the walls and snatches of Fuyumi's softer tone that was too close to desperation, and he'd been so distant that he ached at the feeling of loneliness until he turned numb with it.

And even if he wasn't there, Touya's presence had always been heaviest in the house. The loudest one of them all even though silent, even though Shouto never remembered hearing a word from him until Dabi came along — but he shaped Enji's regrets, Natsuo's unforgiveness, and Fuyumi's sadness. And those were all loud, in their own ways, pressing down on the house.

But still, Touya was silent even when everyone else wasn't, and the house of misery rang in Shouto's ears until his breathing turned ragged. Until only his panicked breaths were all he could hear when it was late at night, louder than the memories he tried to hold onto of his mother's voice, louder than the memories of Enji he tried to let go of.

It's almost like that, now. Shouto has forgotten the feeling of this, he realises, as he starts to hear his own breaths catch on the wrong side of too much.

He'd gotten used to the dorms being loud. But not loud in desperation, not in anger, not in grief. They were loud with things like Katsuki snarling when someone messed with the kitchen utensils' placement. Like Denki, Mina, and Eljirou laughing as they tried to pull a prank, or groaning together when they tried to study in the common room. Like Izuku's mumbling, Tenya's orders and pleas for order, and Ochako's enthusiastic encouragements.

On his floor, it wasn't as loud as the common rooms could be, with most of the residents tending to have quieter natures. But Shouto could still hear Momo's excitement when she huddled some of the girls into her room for a study session. Could hear Asui on the phone as she walked down the hall talking to her family. He would have Satou's quiet knocks on his door as he tested a new recipe with the floor-mates before giving it to the rest of the class. Or Shouto would be with Sero in either of their rooms, lounging together as they read manga with a quiet conversation about their thoughts on the latest volumes.

Still, it was loud enough. No matter the floor, the dorms were just a constant state of noise. Noisy with friends, people who'd taught him he was more than just the boy moulded under Enji's orders, more than the boy just trying to count his breaths at night so the walls didn't feel like they were pressing down on his chest so much.

When they all first moved into the dorms, it had taken him many nights to get used to the different in volumes. Loud, but in other ways — not in grief, not in guilt, not in misery and anger. But he’d gotten used to it, and now it’s all he wants to know and all he wants to have.

Now, though, the dorms are quiet. And Shouto knows it's different, that it's not like his house with his family — which will never be the same, either. His mother is back, which is more than he ever could have wanted so many months ago, and Enji has changed, too. Shouto had almost gone home, just for her, just because he thought it was expected of him, but Aizawa had pulled him aside with a furrow between his eyebrows.

"Kid," he had said. "I won't tell you otherwise if you want to go home. It's your choice and yours alone. But I want to stress that it is an option to stay here, too, if you want it."

Shouto had stared at him blankly, because he'd known, just like every other student being told, that the dorms were no longer mandatory. All of them were free to go home. Aizawa wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know.

But later in the night, when he'd meant to be packing up his belongings, he'd stopped in front of his desk. It's slowly been accumulating things over the surface — the latest manga Sero had lent him, an All Might figurine that Izuku had gifted him, and an ice tray with animal shapes that Denki had given him. It had apparently meant to be a joke — one which landed poorly, because Shouto had just been confused more than anything, but Shouto kept hold of it anyway. He never got many gifts as a kid, and he found himself reluctant to even part ways with the ice tray.

He didn't pack his belongings. He lay on his bed that night, listening to the sound of the girls in the hallway as they all met up in Momo's room. Their voices were more sombre and exhausted, everyone pulled thin until there was very little left of them. But they won, and they were all together, and even in the mess of the aftermath, it was still better than anything Shouto had felt or heard at home with Enji.

The walls of the house with Enji and his mother would surely be even heavier, now. Still with grief and misery, but a different kind. Everything has changed now with Touya still alive, with a voice that isn't quite Dabi's anymore, but it's a new weight that would finally crush Shouto at night, he thinks. It would be enough.

He didn't pack his belongings, even though the decision left him feeling uncertain and unsure. In the morning he found out that neither did Shouji, Tsuyu, or Mashirou from their dorms. Neither did Neito, Itsuka, and Pony from 2-B.

Hitoshi is a new addition, silently moving into one of the empty rooms on the fourth floor. Along with the rest of them, Aizawa stays on campus too, assigned to take care of Eri. When the faculty brought up that the dorms were no longer mandatory, he told them that he would, as it's easier to stay on a hero campus for Eri's sake, rather than his too-small apartment that could barely fit himself and Midnight's cat, Sushi.

Shouto figures he's also still getting used to his prosthetic, and the lesser travel time makes it easier for his sake, too. But no one mentions it, because all of them are scarred in one way or the other from this war and they're all trying to figure out the adjustments that they need.

And Shouto is realising that he needs— needs this. Them. His classmates, his friends. Realises it when he starts watching all of them pack up their belongings and head back to their homes.

He'll see most of them plenty, because they've all volunteered with clean-up efforts and most of them will likely linger near the dorms during it, but Aizawa demanded that they go home and see their families first when they’d all taken their first breath after the end of the battle.

They tried to resist at first, but Aizawa sternly told them that society could wait a day for teenagers to reunite with their parents, and the adults could handle this much for them at least.

Shouto had stood at the edge of the front entrance’s doorway as they all started leaving, giving small reassuring smiles to anyone's gaze that lingered over him. He had known, then, that they'd want to push — that they were worried, that they're going to be for a while, but all of them were simply too exhausted at that point. Shouto's exhausted, too, and he thinks that's more the reason that they leave it be.

It had been strange, though, turning from the doorway and only seeing four other faces who were going to stay in the building for the night.

"I'll make some food," Mashirou had offered, but it was the most any of them spoke for a while. Even during their meal together, it was quiet, like none of them quite knew how to fill up the silence between them all now.

When they were finished, he headed up to his floor with Asui. Both of them were quiet on the way up — but in a more comfortable way, at least. Regularly sharing a lunch table with their own quiet conversations meant Shouto didn't mind the silence between them.

They had said goodnight, and that had been the last thing Shouto heard from anyone else in the dorm.

Now, it's just his own ragged breathing, too loud, too much.

He tries to focus on other things to distract himself. He wonders how his friends feel at home and how they're settling in. He hopes most of them are getting to sleep easier than he is.

He wonders how Touya is. He wonders how his mother feels, back at home and back with the pieces left of his family.

But the thoughts start to feel overwhelming all too quickly, and he huffs and pulls at his blanket until it's over his head. Like that'll somehow help the total silence that feels like it's suffocating him, like it'll help the thoughts that are spiralling inside of his own mind.

The first night back at the dorms, after everything has happened and after it feels like everyone has left, he doesn't sleep well.

A routine starts to settle over the next few days. Wake up early. Go to class. Clean up and help the city. Lunch with his friends. More cleaning up. Saying goodbye to his friends as they head home, while four of them return to U.A. Dinner, usually made by Mashirao. An attempt at conversation, talking about the rest of their classmates, before Shouto heads up the elevator with Asui and they go to their rooms. Night, too loud and not loud enough, and barely any sleep.

It's easier, better, during the day. During classes, when he's with his friends and it all almost feels normal. Almost. There are some differences, of course — Izuku's hair is half-shaved, and he's covered in bandages like half the class also are. Katsuki's temper has mellowed out, except when he's dealing with the fans from the new first-year students. That's different, too, for Shouto as well. He's used to people watching him, used to people talking about him, but it's different now. He’s really not sure what to think about that kind of attention, but thankfully Tenya steps in before he can think too hard about it.

When he has to say goodbye to all of his friends at the end of the day, though, and head back to the dorms that are so big and so quiet, that's when the differences are the worst.

It's not like he can do anything about that, though. He's glad that his friends get to go home, that they have a family to look after them at night. He knows Izuku lives with his mother, and he adores her just as much as she adores him. He's glad that Izuku's being looked after, especially after everything he's gone through. And he knows Katsuki's parents are glad to have him home, and that he's glad to be home too, even if he grumbles about their nagging the next day when they walk to class together.

He'd heard about the final battle, later. In more detail than he received over their comms during their fights. Seeing Izuku and Katsuki on their feet, walking with him to classes like they usually do, is nothing short of a relief. So he's glad that they get to home, that they have people looking out for them that know them best.

Still, it's hard, trying to get used to the idea that his friends are no longer just a few doors away. It's habit, an instinct, really, that has him head down a couple of floors when he's caught up in his studying. They don't have homework, not yet at this point, as most of their extra hours are spent in the city helping clean up. But Shouto's been trying to get his mind off things, trying to feel like it's all normal, and he opens up his English textbooks and tries to read ahead.

He convinces himself too well, it seems. He thinks that Izuku will likely be studying with Tenya, down in Tenya's room, and it's not unusual for the three of them to end up studying English or other subjects together a couple of nights before a test. He only catches himself when he's already standing in front of Tenya's room, books under his arm, with a hand raised to knock.

He remembers it’s empty only a moment after Mashirao steps outside of his room. He’s got a towel around his neck, heading for the bathrooms, though he stops in surprise when he sees Shouto.

"Hey," Mashirao says, almost cautiously.

Shouto clears his throat and drops his hand. "Hey."

Mashirao's eyes glance at the door. When he looks back at Shouto, it's thankfully with a type of understanding in his gaze.

"You forget too, huh?" Mashirao sighs, shaking his head with something like exasperation. "I keep making three hot chocolates at night, you know, because Jirou and Kouda always liked to have one with me too."

Shouto nods. He feels too awkward about knocking on the door of someone no longer in the dorm, even if Mashirao understands.

Mashirao shifts on his feet. He looks at the books in Shouto's hands, and his shoulders press back.

"Oh, hey, if you're studying, would you mind some company? I want to try and get my marks up this year," Mashirao asks, and then shrugs easily. "No worries if you'd rather study alone though."

Shouto looks down at his books. He hasn't studied with anyone other than Tenya and Izuku before, though admittedly he hardly ever needed the extra help and neither did either of them either — they just all liked the company, he thinks, and he misses it now.

"I wouldn't mind," he answers. It'll be different, sure, but maybe this will be good, too.

Mashirao lights up, which makes Shouto reassured in his decision. "Great! I'll have a super quick shower. Um-"

He glances back at his bedroom door, and Shouto catches the edge of a wince. The kind of expression Izuku would make if someone knocked on his door but he was in the middle of sorting out all of his All Might merchandise and was embarrassed about the mess.

"I'll meet you in the common room," Shouto says, and Mashirao's look of relief is all he needs to know he's made the right judgement.

Mashirao heads to the bathrooms while Shouto heads downstairs. The common room's lights are on, and he walks out to see Mezou and Tsuyu sitting together at one of the tables. They don't look surprised to see him, but no one's ever really been able to sneak up on Mezou either.

"Hey, Todoroki," Mezou greets, just a moment faster than Tsuyu's own.

"Ah," he says, taking a step and then blinking. Maybe he should tell Mashirao to meet him in his room if they're going to be disturbing something.

"What's brought you down here?" Tsuyu asks, bringing her finger to her chin. It sounds like a gentle prompt, like she's trying to remind him in case he's forgotten.

His eyebrows furrow as he looks down at his books. "I was going to study with Ojirou. We can take it back to my room, though."

Tsuyu and Mezou share a look, and then Tsuyu smiles at him. "I'd like it if you both studied here."

"Do you mind if we join?" Mezou asks, then gestures to himself and Tsuyu. "We were just talking about that, actually."

"About English?" Shouto asks.

Mezou's eyes seem to crinkle in amusement. He's a lot more expressive, lately, though that might also be the fact that he only wears the mask with his hero costume now. "About setting some new routines."

"I see," Shouto says. Mezou and Tsuyu move before he does, both of them getting up at the same time.

"We'll go get our books," Tsuyu says, and they're gone before Shouto can even reply.

He's sitting at the table when Mezou, Tsuyu, Mashirao all appear together — and Hitoshi, too, rubbing his neck sheepishly as he steps out with them. Mashirao’s hair is still slightly wet, but he doesn't seem to mind it. They're all smiling at each other, talking in low tones as they reach the table.

Shouto's glad for it, because it means that Mashirao doesn't seem to mind that they have company without it being discussed. It seems like he's the one pulling Hitoshi along, who looks the most reluctant, and Shouto thinks about Hanta telling him that Hitoshi looked like his earlier, angrier days.

He's changed, though, and so has Hitoshi. He seems awkward about tagging along, but not annoyed that he's being rounded up with them. He's just unfamiliar with them, is all, and Shouto understands that. He thinks he should make a bit of an effort, to try and make Hitoshi more comfortable. It's what his friends would do — and what they are doing, he realises a beat later.

"Do you like English?" Shouto asks, because Izuku likes it, and Tenya thinks it's an important skill to have. Out of all of them, though, Shouto likes it the least. He likes hearing it when All Might slips into it, and Izuku on the occasion when he’s trying to cover up a swear that he’s picked up from All Might or Katsuki, but that’s about as far as he cares to study it.

Hitoshi blinks at him. "Uh. Enough, I guess?"

Shouto nods, because that's probably about the level he feels about it, too. Another thing he can understand and share with him, at least. Hitoshi drops his hand from his neck, like he understands that connection too, and is no longer as defensive about being rounded up.

"He usually studies with Midoriya and IIda," Mashirao informs him with a friendly smile. "They're all kind of top of the class, so he has to settle for us."

"It's not settling," Shouto frowns at him, because Mashirao says it in a way that makes it seem like it's a downgrade. It's different, sure, but it's not bad. Shouto doesn't like comparing his friends against each other — it sounds too much like the voice of his father, when he does that, trying to find the strongest and weakest parts of a chain.

And the thought of that is strange, too, because it's not quite the same there either, anymore. Inside his head, Enji's voice is still gruff and angry, the voice he remembers towering over him as he curled up on the ground and tried to remember how to breathe. Enji's voice, these days, still carries a lot of weight — but it's hardly in anger, anymore, but Shouto doesn’t know how to categorise him anymore either.

He's pulled from his thoughts as Mashirao turns his smile on him, a laugh accompanying it. "Well, I sure hope Shinsou has better grades to make it seem that way. I, for one, hate English."

"We didn't have to study it," Shouto tells him.

Mashirao shakes his head. "No, I hate it, but I need it. And I think I'll hate it a little less if I have people to study with again."

"Mhm," Shouto says in agreement.

Tsuyu's the first one to pull out her book and actually get to reading. They all follow, their books spread out on the table as they either catch up or read ahead.

No one mutters like Izuku does, and no one quite checks in the way Tenya does, with a firm voice timing out their study and telling them when it's a good moment to have a break. He thinks it's quiet, almost too quiet, at first, but then he realises he just isn't listening for the differences.

Tsuyu has a habit of tapping her pen on her thigh when she's thinking. Mashirao likes to drag his pencil across the page to follow along as he's reading. Mezou reads words aloud — almost silently, but there's a ghost of a noise if Shouto listens for it. Hitoshi is the quietest of them all, not making any auditory indication of his presence, but he's the first one to break into conversation.

"Okay," Hitoshi huffs eventually, "can someone please help me figure out what the hell this means?"

And suddenly, it's not quiet at all. They talk, and they help each other, and they laugh as they try and work out their answers together.

It's different. But it's good, he thinks. He'll get used to it.

Slowly, the city gets better. They don't go out as much after school to help rebuild or clean up as there isn't much to do within the region anymore. Now, it's slowly getting back to a sense of normal, with most people getting back to their standard routines.

It means he has less time in the day with most of his friends, though. Rather than spending a couple of extra hours after school, Shouto walks with most of them to the front gates to see his friends off at the end of their last class.

"We should catch up sometime soon after school together," Izuku suggests to him, only three days into their new normal routine and heading into the weekend — their first without going out to help with clean-up.

Shouto wonders if the differences are hard for Izuku, too. So he smiles, and he says, "I'd like that."

"Oh, for god's sake," Katsuki groans, standing two steps away and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Like we haven't seen enough of each other lately."

"And yet I'm sure he’ll tag along anyway," Izuku leans forward to whisper to Shouto with a grin. He straightens back up, still beaming as Katsuki glowers. "I'll message you!"

Shouto finds himself smiling, too. Izuku waves in big motions as he leaves, keeping his front turned to Shouto for as long as he can while walking backwards, and Shouto stands and waits there until his friends are no longer in sight. He walks back to the dorm, and Mashirao joins him halfway back.

"Were you held up?" Shouto asks him, because Mashirao definitely should have been back at the dorms by now. He'd gone to see most of the class off at the gates too, but he'd left a couple of minutes before Shouto.

"Nah," Mashirao replies. "Hitoshi went to see Aizawa. Tsuyu went in with Shouji."

Shouto feels his eyebrows furrow. That doesn't explain why Mashirao is here.

But then he thinks about Izuku, waving until Katsuki pulled on his forearm to make him walk forwards after almost tripping on his feet. He thinks about the fact he waited at the gates until his friends were out of sight. He thinks he understands.

"Thanks," he says.

Mashirao grins at him.

They walk into the dorms together, and it's louder than usual. The students who stayed in the dorms from 2-B are spread out on the couch, with Tzuyu and Mezou to keep them company.

Mashirao seems surprised by their appearance too, but he takes to a lot more socially than Shouto does. Shouto lingers on the outside, keeping to the walls as he makes his way to the kitchen where Asui currently is.

"We have company," he notes.

She tilts her head slightly. "We do. Kendo asked if they could come over, and I didn't see a reason to say no."

"Monoma is one," Shouto mutters, because he thinks Monoma’s attitude is just a little too gaudy to deal with right now or ever, but Asui just seems amused by his comment.

"I suspect we'll see more of him with Shinsou around now," Asui comments. Even though Hitoshi isn’t around in the dorms right now, Monoma has still made himself comfortable enough.

"Hm," Shouto replies with. He thinks for a moment, and then decides to ask the first question on his mind, the one that lingers the most whenever he looks at Hitoshi. "Do you think Shinsou is like me? How I used to be?"

"Like you? In what way?" She asks, curious.

He shrugs. "Sero made a comment when we battled with him for his transfer exam. That it was like looking at me, back in the early days."

Asui considers it. "Maybe in personality, a few weeks ago, when I didn't know him as much — I'd think he was like you, I suppose, in the way Sero meant. But you've changed a lot. And I think Shinsou is getting more comfortable now, too."

"I agree," Shouto says.

She regards him for a moment, eyes dragging up from the pan she's stirring. "There is another similarity I've been noticing lately, though."

She looks at him, like she's waiting for his approval before revealing it. He tilts his head at her, brows raising. "Which is?"

She hums, focusing on the food for a moment as she considers how to answer. He walks closer to look into the pan, thinks over the meals he's seen most of his class make, and heads to the fridge to get out some other ingredients she's going to need. He's improved enough in his cutting skills that Katsuki will allow him to prep when he's desperate enough to ask for someone.

"I hope you understand where I'm coming from when I say this," she tells him. He makes an inquisitive noise, encouraging her to go on. He likes that Asui is blunt, that she says what she means and shows her emotions easily. Still, she's hesitating, like she knows it's a delicate topic. "It makes sense as to why Shinsou isn't comfortable yet. These are new dorms, and he's living with new people. But... it's like you, now. Even though you've been living in these dorms as long as anyone else. But neither of you seem comfortable acting like this is your place to live."

Shouto frowns. "I'm comfortable living here."

She shakes her head at him. "The dorms are comfortable, you mean."

"Yes," he agrees, brows furrowing.

She waits a moment for something, like she’s waiting for him to come to a realisation, but then lets out a deep breath and explains when she realises it’s not going to happen. "The dorms are comfortable because they accommodate everything we need. But you're not comfortable here. Not since the final battle in the war."

Shouto moves his cutting board worth of vegetables over to the side of the pan, letting Asui add them as needed.

"My house is farther than most, and the train line isn't exactly close to us either. My parents wanted me to stay here, even though I offered to go back home to help them with my siblings," Asui says, like it's an offering. "So that's why I'm in the dorms."

He looks at her, and she meets his eyes for a split moment, giving him a small smile.

"Do you miss them?" He asks.

She shrugs. "I do, but it's good for me to be here. I like being here with all of you."

"And the rest of the class? Do you miss them?" Shouto asks, a little more hesitantly.

"I do," Asui hums. "I think we all do."

Shouto nods, and they work in silence for a while as they prepare the food. Eventually, Asui lets it sit on heat, and both of them stretch back against the kitchen table.

Shouto bites down on the inner part of his cheek, mulling over his thoughts. Asui has offered nothing but observations, and thoughts about her home life, but hasn't prodded Shouto for any more. She's willing to let the conversation go if he wants to.

"When I lived with my family," he says, testing the words out on his tongue to see how heavy they weigh before he speaks. "I didn't actually get to spend a lot of time with my siblings."

"You have three, right?" Asui asks.

Shouto nods, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to think of Touya. It's not like he got to speak to many people about it growing up, but one time, a few months ago, Sero had asked him how many siblings he had. He'd hesitated on the answer, because he wasn't quite sure if he should have said two or three. It's not like he wanted to hide Touya's presence, but. But Touya had been gone for most of Shouto's memories, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to see the reaction on Sero's face if he mentioned that Touya had — at the time, seemingly — passed away.

He nods. "Touya is the oldest of us, but I don't have many memories of him. Natsuo, second oldest, moved out the moment he could. Fuyumi stayed, but my dad kept me separated from my siblings anyway. We lived in the same house, but we never really spoke. And my mum wasn't there, either. So it just felt like I was living alone with my dad for most of my life. The dorms were a relief to me because it meant I got away from him."

Asui nods along patiently. Shouto lets the conversation pause, his thumbs brushing against his fingertips in a slow back-and-forth as he thinks.

"If I went back, it would be different. Mum's home now. Fuyumi's still there for the moment, too. And— Touya. I think that's changed everything, too. It wouldn't be the same with dad anymore," Shouto says, voice quieter now.

"Do you feel like you're expected to go home?" Asui asks after a moment of consideration.

Shouto presses his lips together, then shakes his head. "I thought it would be expected of me, but no one has mentioned it yet. Dad's focused on Touya for the most part. Fuyumi told me I should do what's best for me, anyway."

"She probably wants you home," Asui says, in a tone that sounds like she's reminiscing about her own memories. "But she likely thinks it might be better for you here, for your own sake. That's just what I would think, is all."

Her explanation soothes something anxious in his chest.

"As an older sister?" He asks, lips tilting up, wanting to hold onto the lighter side of the conversation.

She smiles back at him. "Yes."

"Hm," is all he replies with in consideration, thinking over her words. The conversation falls quiet between them, but they both stay in the kitchen and plate up together in easy tandem.

Mezou and Shinsou come back in time for them all to eat together. Shouto remains quiet, which draws a few lingering looks like they're trying to determine if they need to be worried. But they seem to come to the understanding that he's just comfortable, so they leave him be but keep him involved in the conversation as much as they can.

He's content, he realises, sitting around the table and eating together. A kind of meal with family that was rarely ever peaceful, back at the Todoroki household — there were too many emotions, between all of them; resentment, desperation, anger, guilt. It all tied together into a fuse until things inevitably blew.

But here, it's peaceful. Voices are raised only in excitement and fun teasing, and arguments are easily diffused with laughter.

Asui and Shouto are both ushered away from the table, no one letting them help clean up.

"I think it's better for me here, too," he tells Asui quietly, later.

She reaches out her hand to him, and he takes it after one moment of confusion. She smiles and squeezes his hand in comfort, and Shouto supposes it's all that needs to be said.

He stumbles into Hitoshi one morning, out on an early morning run.

And by early morning, well—

"Jesus Christ," Hitoshi says, hands braced on his knees after both of them get over the adrenaline — they'd both taken fighting stances when they crossed paths, both high on alert and tense. "It's one-thirty in the morning, Todoroki."

Shouto runs a hand through his hair, then grimaces when he feels how wet it is. He's been running for a while, but he's only now just noticing the ache in his legs and how heavy his breathing is.

"It is," he says, watching as Hitoshi straightens himself up. He studies Shouto with an incredibly unimpressed look. "I swear, does no one sleep in this class? Is that why you're all like this?"

"You're also awake," Shouto points out. He flexes his fingers out as they rest by his side. They're tingling strangely, the cold of the night prickling against his warm skin. His tongue is dry. He probably should have noticed this at least half an hour ago.

"I'm usually up," Hitoshi huffs. He's significantly less out of breath than Todoroki, but he's still got traces of a flush on his skin, visible under the lights on the pathway. Likely cooling down from his own exercise, then.

"Do you usually exercise at this time?" Shouto asks, head tilting.

Hitoshi shrugs. "Sometimes. I haven't run into anyone else before, though."

It's a pointed statement, meant to make Shouto provide an explanation, but he just shrugs instead.

He'd been unable to sleep, and the room felt a little too suffocating, and he'd had his shoes on before he could even think about it. He just needed to do something, though trying to escape the sound of his father's voice only made it rear up worse. Too slow, boy. You're weak, and you'll be left behind. How do you expect to keep pace with or surpass anyone? Weak. You're slow and weak.

Hitoshi looks around. Shouto does too, taking note of where they are on the campus and orientating himself. They're a few minutes out from the dorms, halfway between a training ground which is likely where Hitoshi had come from.

"Here," Hitoshi says, a split-second after a water bottle moves into Shouto's peripheral vision.

"Oh," Shouto says in surprise, hands reaching out for the bottle because he doesn't want Hitoshi to leave it hovering between them awkwardly. He can recognise that awkward tension in his shoulders, knows how it feels to try and extend a hand without being too sure if it's welcomed. "Thanks."

"You can probably make your own, I guess," Hitoshi mutters, running a hand down his face with one hand while he gestures to Shouto’s self with his other.

"Not drinkable," Shouto answers, uncapping the lid and letting a small amount pour into his mouth. The water is a relief on his itchy throat, and he's incredibly thankful for it, so he offers a branch where he knows they both have something in common. "I'm sure Midoriya can tell you about it sometime."

"Hah," Hitoshi huffs in amusement, a touch of fondness in his expression that reassures Shouto he's made a good choice. "Of course he's already asked about it."

"Of course," Shouto echoes. He passes back the bottle. "Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem," Hitoshi replies, taking a sip of his own. "You heading back to the dorms?"

Shouto looks back in the direction of them. He probably would have kept running if he hadn't been interrupted, could and would keep going until his knees started shaking and it became illogical as it'd just set him back in progress rather than improve him. He swallows thickly when he realises he's thinking in the voice of Enji.

"Yeah," Shouto replies. "I am."

"Cool," Hitoshi says, in a voice that means to say same. Shouto turns on his heels and starts to walk, Hitoshi easily falling into step beside him.

They haven't held a conversation one-on-one besides the usual social necessities. Shouto's not particularly inclined to want to break the silence, but he thinks about Asui's comments, and he reasons to himself that I want to try to be his friend, I think.

But Hitoshi, he thinks, is different to his closest friends. When Izuku, Tenya, or Ochako are asked a question about themselves, they usually offer an answer. Even if it's a lie, they're still okay with being asked, and they don’t take it as someone prying unwelcomingly.

He hesitates as he thinks. Hitoshi probably won't want to reveal anything that isn't on his terms — like Shouto was, before, when he wouldn't have liked being asked questions. He'd prickle up, putting up walls, stopping them from getting close and eyeing them suspiciously for trying.

How do I do this? He wonders. Everyone around him was kind of just— there. He hadn't set out to make friends, but they were always waiting for the chance. Somehow, they’d gotten past all of his walls, but now he’s standing on the other side of one and he’s not sure how to get through it.

He puffs out his cheeks, thinking of one of his first interactions with Izuku. His first friend, who'd decided to be so after Shouto had pulled him aside and spilled so many things.

Well, I guess if it's a tried and true method...

"I couldn't stop hearing my dad's voice," Shouto says, subconsciously reaching a hand up to push back his hair in an excuse to hide his eye for just a moment. He catches himself doing it, movement freezing, and he grimaces when he feels Hitoshi's side-eye linger on him. I felt like this was smoother with Izuku. Maybe I should just wait until the next sports festival to really replicate this...

"In there?" Hitoshi asks, head gesturing to the dorms. A kindness, trying to keep the conversation going despite Shouto's awkward demeanour.

Shouto sighs. "Yeah."

"I can imagine it was intense," Hitoshi says carefully. Some of Shouto's closest friends know more of the full story, while the rest of the class has been able to gather enough pieces to form a telling picture. Hitoshi has the least amount of knowledge about the situation, but Shouto feels like Hitoshi gets it.

"Mhm," Shouto says in agreement. He'd grown up not knowing differently, but he'd still wanted something so different to what was expected of him, and it's a hard feeling to grapple with now that he's finally out of Enji's grasp. It makes him doubt himself, some days, wondering if it was truly all that bad.

He knows it is. Hitoshi seems to know it, too.

"So that's why you went for a run?" Hitoshi questions, once again being kind in his prompting.

Shouto shrugs. It could be an easy answer, an easy way to wrap up the conversation, but oversharing in his honesty has gotten him decently far these days, so he figures why not. "The gyms remind me too much of him some nights."

Reminds him of their own training room, back in the Todoroki household, with Enji's figure looming over him. The fear that had gripped around his heart and choked him all too much in those four walls. The open air is the better alternative when he needs a reprieve, but no space is big enough to ever hide Enji's voice from his ears some nights.

"Well, I'm usually around, if you get bored of running and want to hit something," Hitoshi offers.

It's a very generous offer. Shouto looks at him in surprise, which quickly settles into a smile of gratitude. Of course — Hitoshi is in the hero course for a reason. He's clawed his way to this class for a reason, with other people supporting him too. Hitoshi will help, because that’s what heroes do. That’s what friends do.

"Hah," Shouto breathes out. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Aizawa's there, some nights," Hitoshi says, which is half a warning and also still half an offering.

"I see," Shouto says with a nod. "Another secret love child in the class."

Hitoshi chokes on a cough. "What?"

"Ah," Shouto says, amused. "It's something of a joke, I suppose. When I met Midoriya, I assumed he was All Might's secret love child."

"You were kind of on the money," Hitoshi says with a short bark of laughter.

Shouto finds himself grinning. "I suppose I was."

Hitoshi thinks for a moment, then blanches. "Wait, so you think I'm Aizawa's? No."

Shouto turns his head and stares at the scarf around Hitoshi's neck. Hitoshi rolls his eyes and doesn't reply, but Shouto can see in the corner of his eyes that he's tracing a finger along the fabric in consideration. He keeps the next smile to himself.

Even though it's quiet between them, by the time they get back to the dorms, Shouto no longer hears his father's voice ringing in his ears.

A couple of weeks later, there's a tentative knock at his door in the evening.

He looks up from his textbook, finding himself staring at the door like he'll somehow be able to see right through it. It takes him a moment to realise someone's out there, waiting.

"Just me," Mashirao's voice calls through the door.

Shouto opens up the door. "Hey. What's going on?"

Mashirao blinks at him for a moment, surprised by something as his eyes linger a little higher than Shouto's face, and Shouto remembers he's left the clips in his hair that keep the front pieces away from his eyes.

"Ah," Shouto says, looking up like he can see through the pieces of hair. He already knows that one is bright red and blue, with a smiley All Might face on the end of it, and another is purple and white for Mount Lady. "I got them from Midoriya."

"Right," Mashirao says, like he's trying to keep the laughter from his voice. "They're cute. Sorry, I guess you're studying, didn't mean to disrupt you."

"It's fine," Shouto replies quickly, because it is. He doesn't mind the disruption because it's nice having someone knock on his door.

"I'm here because I made a second hot chocolate," Mashirao replies, raising the two mugs in his hands carefully. "Would you like one?"

"Oh. Sure, thank you," Shouto replies, taking it when he's offered. Mashirao seems like he's going to just turn around and leave, but Shouto finds that he doesn't like the thought. He glances back in his room, confirms it's neat enough that he won't hear Fuyumi's voice fretting in his head about the state of it, and then looks back at Mashirao. "Would you, uh, like to come in?"

He has to smother down the grimace that fights to cross his face. How does Izuku seem to do this so effortlessly?

Then again, Shouto muses, it's not really effortless. It's just that everyone's endeared with Izuku, and they're willing to look past the awkwardness for him. Shouto certainly does.

"I'm not disrupting you?" Mashirao asks, though Shouto recognises that it's out of genuine concern and not out of hesitance.

"No," Shouto replies, shaking his head. "I'd appreciate a break, honestly."

"Sure, then," Mashirao says. "That'd be nice."

Shouto steps aside, and gestures to the low table pressed up against the wall. "Feel free to use the chair there. Sorry, only have the one."

Mashirao smiles at him, taking a seat and placing the mug on the table. "It's fine. It's nice in here, in case I've never mentioned it to you."

"It's... I'm not sure how I feel about it lately," Shouto admits, looking over the room as he sits down. "My household definitely inspires it."

I did my best to make it familiar to my house, but now that doesn't feel like home, and I'm not sure what it should look like anymore, he thinks — feelings he's had for the past couple of weeks, but isn't quite sure what to do about them. His room is functional, tidy, and useful. He's not quite sure how he'd style it otherwise.

Mashirao hums, taking another look around. His eyes lock on a figurine in the corner, and he smiles as he looks back at Shouto with a glint in his eye. "The Todoroki household has All Might figurines on the furniture?"

"No," Shouto says, brows furrowing.

"Ah, then... Ingenium notebooks?"

"Also no."

"The noodle-patterned squish pillow?" Mashirao asks, looking over at his bed.

The Todoroki household definitely does not have a gift from one Katsuki Bakugou other than the verbal lashing and rapid scrubbing of dishes when he’d come over for dinner during the work studies with Endeavour.

"No."

"Oh. But definitely the pink pens on the desk here," Mashirao says, gesturing to the set he'd been gifted by Ochako.

"I don't think you'd be surprised to hear that is also a no," Shouto tells him.

Mashirao's smile is light and friendly as he looks back at Shouto. "Your household definitely inspires it, sure. But you've got plenty of other things in here that inspire you too, I think."

"Hm," Shouto says, taking another look around the room with a new perspective.

Mashirao's right. Shouto's been focused on the larger things, but he's overlooking all the smaller pieces in this room. Gifts from his friends, or smaller purchases he's made because he likes them and doesn't have to worry about what his father thinks of them.

"It suits you," Mashirao says, stretching his arms up. "Although, it does kind of feel like it's a bubble in time that's never seen any technology in here, I'll admit."

"Top drawer on the left there," Shouto tells him.

Mashirao follows the instructions and lets out a little breath of laughter as he pulls out a tablet. The case is covered in stickers, courtesy of the girls in their class who'd taken it hostage of it back when they were all living in the dorms.

"Cute," he says, flipping it over to study it closer. "Ah, I recognise this sticker set. They got hold of my notebook at some point, though I have no idea when."

"They can be scary," Shouto mutters in agreement.

"Yeah, totally," Mashirao laughs, putting the tablet back delicately. "But your room is cool, really. Oh, actually, you totally don't have to answer this, but did you ever see Bakugou's room? I've been so curious about it, I have to admit."

"Yeah, I did," Shouto says.

"Ah, I'm jealous," Mashirao says jokingly, taking a sip of his hot chocolate, which reminds Shouto that he's got his own on the table. He takes a sip of it, and he's pleasantly surprised by the taste. Not too sweet, not too rich — exactly how he tends to like them.

He recognises that Mashirao isn't going to push him for any answers, but he holds his fingers around the mug and starts to speak. Katsuki will understand if Shouto says he was bribed by a good hot chocolate — or, well, he won't, but he also probably just won't care. He doesn't tend to about these things anymore.

"It was kind of plain, sort of just what most of us usually have," Shouto replies. "But Midoriya isn't the only one with some considerable All Might merch."

"No way," Mashirao leans forward, excitement visible in his eyes.

"It wasn't anywhere near as intense," Shouto replies, head tilting as he remembers Katsuki's layout and decorations. Touches of other people in his room, too — a set of boxing gloves from Kirishima, a speaker from Jirou, a portable charger from Denki that he'd be able to recharge whenever Katsuki needed it. "But he had this binder right next to his bed, full of the best trading cards of All Might. He hid it whenever Midoriya was around, because I'm pretty sure he had one of the cards that Midoriya has been trying to find for years."

Mashirao laughs, the delight clear in his eyes. "I feel like I could expect another house arrest incident if Midoriya found out."

"Mhm," Shouto says in amusement. "I think I'll tell Midoriya about it if I ever need both of them distracted."

He's holding onto it for the right moment. The next U.A. sports festival, or perhaps an exam if he needs it. It'll be enough to get Izuku to focus all of his attention on Katsuki, and all of Katsuki's attention focused on keeping Izuku at bay.

(After he uses it, though, he'll make sure Katsuki keeps his, and he'll give Izuku that same rare card that he purchased last week with his dad's credit card.)

"Don't worry, I'll keep it secret," Mashirao promises, holding his hand up like he's making an oath.

Shouta nods, thankful but unsurprised. "I thought so."

They both drink their hot chocolates in companionable quiet. Shouto feels relaxed, settled, and it's a feeling he realises he hasn't felt in a while now. Mashiraro's right — he's got so many pieces of his friends in here that even if they're not here, they're always around. And he has friends too, right here in the dorms. Friends who will study with him, who will bring him hot chocolate, who will talk to him and include him. Friends that he adores, that he cares for, that he's glad to have in his life.

"Hey," Shouto says, breaking the quiet between them. "Any chance you'd be interested in going over some plans for the heroics class tomorrow?"

Aizawa's dropped small hints about it in class today, enough to get them thinking and planning some moves. Shouto has a feeling he should start lining up allies, and he figures he knows exactly where to start.

"Oh, man," Mashirao says, eyes wide with surprise but his shoulders slumping forward with relief. "Please."

Thursday becomes game night.

Mezou and Asui start the tradition, slowly roping in the rest of them who live at the dorms as the weeks go by. Students from the 2-B dorms have come over a couple of times to join, which ends up becoming just as intense as any lesson where they're battling each other. Monoma certainly creates an atmosphere that edges on their competitive streaks, and it's fun and maybe a little close to destructive, but Shouto always ends up smiling at some point.

They've even had a couple of their classmates stay later into the evening on campus just to play a couple of rounds with them. Katsuki is currently barred from participating for the next couple of weeks, though, since he tried to blow up a deck of cards when he realised that Shouto underhanded him for the win. He has absolutely no regrets about it, and he's been making references to it just to watch Katsuki boil like a pot about to flood over.

Shouto is sitting in the lounge, reading a manga as he waits for everyone to start trickling in at the usual time. They end up waiting on Hitoshi for a few minutes, and he comes in with a sheepish expression as Aizawa trails in behind him.

Shouto's not surprised by Aizawa's appearance. Hitoshi had floated the idea past him, right before Aizawa walked into the gym to join them a couple of nights ago, and asked for his thoughts on Aizawa coming by for game night. Shouto had been a little more surprised by Aizawa wanting to come by, but then again, Shouto supposes Aizawa always finds some kind of amusement about scolding them over strategies, which is what most of their games centre around.

Hitoshi has, of course, cleared it with everyone else too, but they're also surprised that Aizawa has agreed to come by. It only takes them a beat before everyone continues like normal though, Mezou easily reshuffling the cards in his hands and redistributing them with another player in the mix.

They explain the rules to Aizawa as he sits down with them, who just hums and nods along but doesn't offer any opinion about the game itself. Shouto eyes him warily — even if they've all had practice at this game, Shouto's also had practice with Aizawa surprising him. He's sure that if any of them drop their guard, Aizawa's going to fell them in one clean sweep.

He meets eyes with Hitoshi across the table, and a shared understanding comes between them. No matter whose side they end up on, they're going to work together to try and disrupt any of Aizawa's plays — payback, perhaps, for the way he'd drilled into Shouto and Hitoshi about their teamwork together just last session.

Shouto looks at his own deck and considers the board in front of him. Not the best dealing, but he thinks he'll be able to pull off something if he can just convince Asui to move the way he wants her to on the board.

Between all their scheming, they talk to each other as they usually do. Conversations about classes, though a little more timid and respectful than usual, all of them aware of Aizawa's presence quietly sitting with them, and about anything interesting happening during the week. They settle into an easy, familiar rhythm with each other, between their exclaims of excitement or grumbles of grief over the game.

Mashirao is knocked out rather early in the game by an apologetic Hitoshi, who always feels a little guilty when it happens.

"Man," Mashirao groans, handing over the last of his cards with defeat, "you have to stop doing this to me."

Shouto half-expects Aizawa to have something to say about Mashirao's play, but a quick glance over to him shows that he's still got his jaw lowered into his scarf and seems to be intent on keeping his opinions to himself. He meets Shouto's eyes and raises his eyebrows in expectation, but Shouto just shrugs at him and looks away without elaborating.

He's got a tentative team-up with Asui going, but he has a feeling she's about to break it to align with Mezou. At least he can rely on her being honest and upfront about it, because she doesn't like betraying anyone even when it comes down to a game. He does the same in return with her, but he has no qualms about being ruthless and sneaky with anyone else — which, perhaps, is a trait he's taking from Izuku after he'd demolished the class with a sheepish all-too-trustworthy smile. Shouto won't be able to deceive anyone quite the same, but he knows he has other angles he can work with.

The first round ends with Asui as the winner, Shouto coming in close behind her — but he'd taken out Aizawa on the way, so he can't say he's too displeased about the loss. It's a quick enough game that Mezou reshuffles the deck and hands out a new lot of cards for a new round.

They start to take less notice of Aizawa's presence as the new round begins. He's remained quiet, almost blending back into the shadows in the corner of the room as they all start to talk again. Shouto isn't sure how they haven't run out of words yet as they spend so much time together on campus, but it usually tends to go like this on game nights — the first round is just a warm-up with surface-level conversation before they start to get a little more comfortable.

The conversation starts to dip a bit more into some of their feelings closer to the time of the war, and how they're handling things now. It comes up rather frequently, but especially on the weeks when they have lessons that relate closely to it, or have other reminders come a little too close to home. Some weeks are harder than others — Katsuki had taken a heavy hit to the chest from Rikido a few lessons ago, and it had been enough to cast a cloud of quiet upset over them for the day. They'll learn to deal with it, how to cope with it, and they usually all come back bouncing by the next day. Still, there are lingering memories and feelings they are still working through, and no one faults anyone for these things. (Even Katsuki had been a little bit softer when he'd yelled at them all that he was fine, damnit, nothing's getting me down!)

This week is one of the easier ones, though. Mezou mentions he's thinking of going to a support group for heteromorphs after school some days, and that he's been thinking of programs that might help schools in their teachings for younger students. Asui mentions that she's working with Ochako and Momo on something similar, the beginning stages of a plan to help people out with more extreme quirks. The word Toga is never mentioned, but it lingers in the air, and Shouto knows their minds are all starting to circle around the League of Villains.

They forget Aizawa is there, all of them settling back into their usual behaviours at ease with each other, Shouto can't fault Mashirao at all when he mentions it.

"Hey, Todoroki, you're going to visit your brother this weekend, right?" Mashirao asks, casually placing a card down.

Shouto been the one to bring it up last week, after all, trusting them all enough to understand his feelings. It will be his first visit to Touya without any of his other family members present, and he's been thinking it over heavily for the last week — he's not particularly nervous, but there had been an anxious fluttering in his chest last week when he'd mentioned it to them. He's spoken to his other friends about it earlier this week, and he already feels a lot more reassured and confident going into the weekend about it all.

There's a pause in the room as Aizawa clears his throat. It's a gentle warning that reminds them all of his presence.

Mashirao's expression twists quickly into guilt, though he tries to cover it quickly. "Oh, um-"

"I am," Shouto cuts in.

He knows he could say I'm going to visit Natsuo, you're right, and they'd all graciously accept the excuse.

But Aizawa—

Aizawa told him you can stay here, if you want. Aizawa comes to the gym with Hitoshi and Shouto, and seems to have a knack for understanding when Shouto might need a push to use his fire if they're using their Quirks, or the days when he needs a reminder that his ice still needs some refinement work. Shouto has learned that some days the grief of that makes Aizawa a little sharper around the edges with their class. He's learned that Aizawa has noticed a stray white cat on his patrols, and that he's considering bringing it back into U.A and calling it Cloud. Aizawa's also offered that if Shouto ever feels like it, he's welcome to come by the teacher's dorms to pet the cats.

You remind me of Sushi, Aizawa had told him once, when Shouto was dripping wet after Hitoshi managed to hypnotise him to melt his ice right on top of himself.

Grumpy when he gets wet? Hitoshi had joked, though he'd thrown Shouto a towel as he said it.

Hm. Just that he takes a little while to warm up to some things, is all, Aizawa had said.

"It'll be the first time it's just me visiting without the rest of my family," Shouto explains, catching Aizawa up with the context, because he decides he truly doesn't mind Aizawa learning about this. Aizawa has opened up pieces of himself, letting Shouto in, and he decides that it’s time to return the favour.

Aizawa nods. He knows that Shouto has gone to visit Touya with his family, and has even pulled Shouto aside to mention that he'll make sure Shouto won't be left behind in classwork whenever he needs some time — no matter the reason, he'd said, but the implication had been heavy with if you ever need time for your family.

Aizawa has always been one of the few people who looks at Shouto and sees him before they see Enji or Touya or any of his other family members. He sees Enji and Touya as part of him, and he's careful with his words about them, but he's never made Shouto feel like he's only made of parts from them.

So Shouto doesn't feel worried about telling Aizawa any of this, he realises. It's strange, having an adult figure in his life that sees Shouto before seeing a Todoroki, but it's— it's nice. Shouto appreciates it more than he’ll ever be able to say, but he thinks he can try.

"I'll probably tell him a bit about Natsuo's wedding plans, just because Natsuo doesn't want anyone mentioning anything when our dad's around," Shouto says, pausing for a moment to look over his deck. They're a better hand than last time, but he doesn't have any team-ups going right now, and he might lose his cards if he doesn't start teaming up or taking out some other players. "I don't know if Toyua would want to hear it, but... it's important."

But still, even he knows how it can sound sometimes — the way it sounds like forgiveness, perhaps, when it's not quite that. It's a messy mixture of guilt, reparations, and understanding when it comes to the heart of it. Because Shouto knows, and he understands, why Touya became what he is. He wishes it was different, and maybe this is his foolish attempt at trying for it when it feels too little and too late, but he can't take anything back now. He can't change what Touya has become, and he can't change their childhoods, but he thinks there must still be something he can do. A way to reach out to Touya with a branch of familiar understanding between them, even if it hurts.

He's never had to explain these feelings because he knows he's understood by his friends. They've been with Shouto for all of it; the moment that Dabi had put himself in front of the camera and declared himself Touya and all the moments after. They've stood with him through it all, and have accepted whatever feelings Shouto reveals to them. He knows he doesn't need to justify how he feels about Touya to them.

And Aizawa has given him explicit permission to go and visit Touya, too. He hasn't said anything against it, or against Touya, even though Shouto knows that Touya — or his clone — had been the one to attack Aizawa first, back at the forest training camp. Touya had threatened the safety of the entire grade right in front of Aizawa, and he'd caused the burns on his students, too. Touya has caused a lot of pain to his friends, to his teacher, and he would understand if Aizawa had some grievances about it.

Still, though, Aizawa just nods. Like it's an encouragement this time.

"I'm sure he'll appreciate hearing it," Tsuyu says.

Shouto nods. "I think you're right."

Because it means a lot to Shouto, even if he'd never spent much time with Natsuo. It means that Natsuo has been able to heal, find his own happiness, and is willing to create his own family even after the mess of theirs. He's seen his brother's partner, and he's seen his brother with her, and it's good, seeing Natsuo in love and happy. It means a lot to Shouto, and he's sure it'll mean a lot to Touya, too.

Fuyumi tells Shouto he's a lot like their mother, and he thinks about it now as he sits with his friends. Forgiving, patient, enduring. But Shouto knows he's a lot like Enji, too. Like Natsuo. Like Touya. Their tempers are always quick to rise until they burn whole with it, until their stubborn determination swallows them whole. It means that there's hope, though — and even if Natsuo is different to them, the two chosen by Endeavour to have his attention, Natsuo is still their brother. It means that whatever is part of Natsuo is part of them, too.

Forgiving. Patient. Able to create a family of his own. All those parts of Natsuo must be inside them too, and Shouto thinks Touya will appreciate knowing this much.

He is admittedly also going to complain to Touya about the wedding as well, though, because if Natsuo tries to fit him into any more suits, he's going to lose his mind — he's definitely not so forgiving and patient when it comes to Natsuo frantically trying to pick out the best outfits. He's sure Touya is going to understand his grievances, at least, even if he can't speak them right now.

"He'd probably like to hear about you, too, kid," Aizawa says, after a moment of quiet.

Shouto hums, keeping his eyes down on his cards so that he doesn't need to meet the expression Aizawa is levelling him with. He's not so sure he agrees, not yet. Because most of Shouto's life has been about Endeavour. And Touya — well, he'd been there as Dabi, when Shouto had finally learned how to be more than what Endeavour tried to train him to be. He'd been there for that part. And their past — Shouto's past — feels too delicate, too painful, to bring up to Touya.

(And the matter is, Touya has seen part of that, too. He'd seen Enji, standing over Shouto, and it had been the same story on repeat to him. And Shouto had become Shouto, and Touya had become Dabi. Neither of them needs the reminder, he thinks. They already understand each other — or, at least, Shouto understands Touya. Understands Dabi. Touya might just need some more time trying to understand Shouto, and he’s okay with that.)

Shouto puts down a card. "I'm not even sure if he can hear us, half the time. The doctors say he sleeps a lot, and he's heavily medicated, too, for the pain."

Mezou places down a card, following Shouto's own play. His cards haven't been dealing too much damage this round, but Shouto's sure he's holding onto some of his bigger ones. He'll have to try and get ahead of it.

"You might be surprised at what gets through," Aizawa remarks.

Shouto glances at him, then, but Aizawa is focused intently on his cards. But there's a twitch to his finger, a tension in his frame, that gives away that the words are not so easily said.

Of course, Shouto thinks. If anyone else has a personal connection to The League of Villains, it's Aizawa with Kurogiri. The class has been told about it in glimpses, though Aizawa is testily quiet about anything to do with Midnight or anything to do with the League. Dabi is probably lower on the list of personal grievances to reconcile when it was his own childhood friend who also caused so much damage.

He thinks about what it would mean to see Izuku or Tenya or Ochako or Katsuki, or any of his friends so many years later under that same circumstance. He's not sure how he'd be able to handle it, though he supposes there are many things he thought he'd never be able to handle. It's just that they need to handle it, because the world keeps spinning, and there are always other people who need their focus and their help.

And right now, his focus is on his family. The one in the Todoroki household, and the newer, tentative one sitting around him.

"Yeah," Shouto agrees to Aizawa's words, after a few quiet moments. He thinks Aizawa might be right: that Touya might just listen. That he might want to.

The conversation changes, then, into something that lets Shouto sit and muse over the last one. It also gives him the chance to develop a strategy that manages to wipe out Tsuyu, Hitoshi, and Mezou all at once.

It comes down to Aizawa and Shouto, a tense battle of silence. Shouto looks over his cards to try and judge Aizawa's posture, but he looks relaxed in his splayed-out position. He's pulled out the sleeping bag from somewhere and has managed to slip into it without any of them realising. He looks halfway to being asleep, like he’s already mentally checked out for the night.

And then, before he can even build up to his next move, Aizawa manages to strike him out. In one quick, fell swoop, just as Shouto predicted he might do. He's been working towards this the entire game, and it's easy to tell by the satisfied pull at his lips as he places down his trump card. It's the best move he's seen yet, crowning over even Izuku's most impressive plays, and Shouto is begrudgingly respectful.

"Damn," Shouto huffs, putting his cards down in defeat.

But he doesn't mind that much, really. Because even though Aizawa's lounged around with them, and has the sleeping bag zipped up to his chin, it means that he's still watching. He's regarding this board game as important, simply because it is to the rest of the people in the circle. And it means that Aizawa has regarded them all as serious opponents, and he hasn't underestimated Shouto either.

It means that he's been paying attention. He's paying attention to Shouto.

"Good game," Shouto offers, when Aizawa moves to stand up.

"Yeah. Good job, kid," Aizawa says, and it feels something like a victory despite the loss.

Izuku stumbles into his room with the ease of someone who's done it a hundred times before.

And that's because he has. Though Shouto had been expecting — well, maybe something different. Maybe for something to have changed in all these weeks, all these months. Because Izuku hasn't made his way through these halls in a while now, and he hasn't thrown himself down on Shouto's floor with a groan for just as long.

Still, though, he does it with practised ease. Like nothing has changed at all, like he'd just done the same movement only the day before, like it hasn't been so long.

"I've missed this," Izuku says, stretching his arms up and looking at the ceiling. He turns his head to look at Shouto with a grin, eyes tracking him as Shouto is a little slower to enter his room.

The words ring in Shouto's ears. A pang of melancholy hits, because he misses the sight of this too, but it's nowhere near as overwhelming as it had felt so many weeks ago. Now, Shouto just regards Izuku in fondness that he doesn't let show, and tries to enjoy the moment while it's here.

"The floor?" He asks Izuku, voice flat as he sits down at his desk.

Izuku grins, rolling onto his stomach and regarding Shouto through his lashes. "Well, you did vacuum it, right? I know none of us escaped Kacchan's lectures unscathed."

"I sure hope you didn't," Shouto tells him.

Izuku laughs, head folding down into his elbow. "Ah, come on! I wasn't that bad!"

"You had the worst habit of leaving the protein powder with the lid off in the kitchen," Shouto tells him.

Izuku flaps his hand into the air. "That's because I knew someone else would use it."

"Everyone uses something again at some point," Shouto says. "It doesn't mean we should just leave them as a mess, Midoriya. Surely Katsuki has gotten into your head about this."

"I did it to annoy Kacchan a little, I'll admit. But now you sound like him," Izuku groans, turning his head to the side so that he can see Shouto again. "Has he been here more often than me? I think I'm upset by that." Izuku then pauses, like he's made a misstep. He tries to work it over quickly, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah, not that-"

"You should come by more often, if you want to," Shouto cuts him off, telling him plainly and honestly. Now that everything's starting to calm down, now that he feels like this room is actually his. The dormitory is his, too. More of a home than his house had ever been, with his friends and his teachers and all these pieces of himself inside of it.

Izuku's teasing expressions melts off his face like ice cream that has fallen from a cone. Or, at least, that’s the image that comes to Shouto’s mind when he watches it happen. It shifts into something soft and surprised, something that makes Shouto's own ears flare red and makes him turn to the side so that Izuku can't quite see the expression on his face.

He should have known that his friends were just waiting to be invited. Izuku had smiled at him the moment he'd asked if he wanted to study together tonight, because Shouto wanted to go over some of the heroics lessons with him. Izuku had been eager to accept the suggestion and had been practically bouncing on his heels as he walked back to the dormitory with Shouto.

Izuku’s walked back with all of them before for their board games before, eager and happy to play, but Shouto realises this is the first time he's actually directly asked one of his friends to come back to the dorms with him.

"Really?" Izuku asks.

Shouto reaches over for a sticky-note from his desk, and he freezes it slightly to give it some more weight so that when he throws it, it lands with a gentle tap on Izuku's forehead. Izuku looks affronted by this, but it gets rid of the shock on his expression, so Shouto is pleased enough.

"Yes, of course," Shouto says. Then, quieter, he admits, "I've missed this, too."

"Ah," Izuku flusters, ducking his head down again.

"But it's alright," Shouto hums, looking around his room. Mashirao gifted him a mug, and it's sitting at his desk, a slightly lazier habit of his as he hasn't been bothered to bring it down to the kitchen from the morning. There's a sticky-note from Tsuyu, a written reminder of their study session together tomorrow. There's a doodle of a frog in the corner, one side of it covered in fire and the other in something that might be ice. There's a roll of tape for his hands, placed there by Hitoshi one late morning when he'd forgotten his own again at their training session. A polaroid photo, taken by Eri but gifted by Aizawa, as he sat with Sushi curled in his lap.

His room, filled with pieces of the people he loves. People who love him, in turn. People who care, who are here for him, who have been with him for so much. People he wants by his side for the rest of his life.

"You've been getting settled back home, right? It's fine, Midoriya," he says, and he's being honest about this, too. Because it is fine. It's different, but Shouto is more than okay with it now. "I’ve been getting settled at home, too."

Izuku takes a moment to register those words, the retort that had been on his tongue dying off as he grins, sitting up straight.

"Yeah?" Izuku asks happily, like he's been waiting for this.

Maybe he has been. If anyone has ever been able to spot Shouto's discomfort, it's been Izuku from their very first meeting. He's been mindful, waiting — likely hoping — for this kind of moment to happen.

"Yeah," Shouto echoes as a confirmation.

Different. Different building, different walls, different volumes, different people, but…

It's a family. His family. And it's his home, too, here with them.

It's a feeling he's happy to get used to.