Chapter Text
“I need you to be my fake girlfriend,” Shouto stated as he stood in front of Uraraka, hands clenched by his side in a white-knuckle grip.
Uraraka stared at him from where she sat curled up on a couch, mouth agape. She shook her head, as if trying to assure herself that she really had heard him correctly. “What? I’m sorry, but for a moment, it sounded like you were asking me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”
The common room was blessedly empty aside from the two of them, and Shouto couldn’t help but be glad for the lack of an audience.
“That’s because I was.” Shouto rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He knew he wasn’t doing a very good job of being convincing. Midoriya was the one gifted with words, not him. “It would be for one evening. This Thursday.”
“Why?” She knit her eyebrows together in confusion, her finger hovering over the page of the book she’d been reading, temporarily distracted. “Why could you possibly need that?”
“I got in an argument with my father. He wants to set me up with one of his friends’ daughters, and I panicked and told him that I had a girlfriend and now he wants to meet her.” His jaw twitched. The plan was admittedly flawed, but at the time it had seemed better than the alternative.
Better than being forced into a quirk marriage like his mother had been. Better than living the rest of his life with someone who despised him.
“Ah.” Closing her book, she nodded understandingly. “So, you need me to help get your father off your back.”
“Just until I turn eighteen,” he reassured her. “Then he won’t be able to hold my mother’s care over my head.” It was mid-December during their third year at Yuuei, and Shouto’s father was still as overbearing as ever, trying to control his life and shape him into the perfect successor.
Shouto had no desire to become the next Endeavor. And his stomach turned at the thought of having a marriage like his parents’. Which is why he needed to convince his father to lay off for the time being. If he could only hold out until his eighteenth birthday, he’d get access to the funds set aside for him and could make sure his mother was taken care of.
His objections to his father’s arrangement would be far more convincing if he found another suitable option, provided she had a strong quirk, of course. The idea of parading Uraraka, or any of his friends for that matter, around in front of his father as a potential bride made him sick to even consider. It felt underhand, like he was using them. But he had to think of his mother. Had to protect her from him.
His siblings couldn’t. Fuyumi had never been able to stand up to their father, and while Natsuo had never had a problem confronting Endeavor, he was in med school now. He couldn’t afford to pay for her care along with his student loans. No, Shouto knew it was up to him.
Uraraka was still watching him, skepticism written across her face, but she hadn’t rejected him outright. He might still have a shot to persuade her. He still had a chance. He had to try.
He sorted through his mind, trying to find the words for some explanation that would convince her. “I probably shouldn’t have told him I have a girlfriend without even having a plan,” he admitted, “but I couldn’t stand the idea of him trying to play matchmaker. I knew if I outright refused to even consider his idea...” he stopped, lips thinning.
Shouto knew he couldn’t completely brush off his father’s attempt to push him into a quirk marriage without at least appearing to make some concession. The dorms had proven to be a wonderful haven from his father’s anger. But one member of the Todoroki family still lived within Endeavor’s reach.
His mother.
Endeavor could have her moved to a different hospital, could restrict her visitors, could prevent Shouto from seeing her. He was too close turning eighteen and being able to take care of her, of being able to put this problem behind them. He couldn’t risk it. Not now. Not when she was finally able to look at him without seeing his father. Not when her bad days were so few and far between they were more like an unpleasant memory.
He shook his head. He couldn’t let himself get distracted by worrying. “I need him to think I’m cooperating. I can’t risk angering him at the moment,” he finished.
Pursing her lips, she glanced around the common area, eyes lingering on the doors that could any minute open and flood the room with people ready for a movie marathon or a study session. “Want to go somewhere else to talk about this? This probably isn’t the best place for a private conversation.”
“Good idea.” He thought for a moment. “Should we go to my room?”
“Sounds good,” she agreed, following him to the elevator.
A tense silence came over them as they waited for the doors to open. Shouto rehearsed what he would say in his head, trying to come up with the right combination of words to express how important this was to him. Midoriya would have known what to say, and he wished he had his ease of expressing himself. He never hesitated before speaking, unlike Shouto, who could never quite figure out what to say.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, interrupting his reflections, and revealing Midoriya, who greeted them both with a bright smile. He was dressed in athletic gear that showed off his muscular frame. If he’d been fit their first year, it was nothing compared to how built he was now. Shouto swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling very dry.
“Hi guys! I was just going to work out! Did you want to come with?” Midoriya offered.
Shouto stared at him blankly, unable to form a reasonable excuse. In fact, he found he was barely able to string two thoughts together.
“Sorry!” Uraraka cut in. “We were going to go study. Maybe next time.” She tugged Shouto’s arm, guiding him through the open doors of the elevator, and his feet moved robotically after her.
“Okay, see you later.” Midoriya glanced between them, but if he noticed their odd behavior, or that neither of them had any books or papers of any kind, he didn’t mention it.
Uraraka raised her eyebrows at the awkward interaction as the elevator doors closed behind them, but at least she had the decency not to say anything. As soon as they were in his room, with the door shut safely behind them, she turned to him. “I take it that it’s safe to assume that you won’t be telling anyone else about this arrangement?”
“I would prefer that it didn’t get around. It would be hard to explain.” He'd only told a few close friends about his family situation, and while it was no secret he wasn’t close to his father, he didn’t want to have his whole life scrutinized by everyone in their class.
Uraraka smirked. “Can you imagine all the confessions you’d get from underclassmen? As soon as it got out that Todoroki Shouto was looking for a fake girlfriend, half the school would start trying to find you a real one! I’m sure plenty of them are already convinced they’re your one true love!”
He groaned, the idea of being mobbed by a decent number of his classmates threatened him with an oncoming headache. He could feel his temples throbbing just imagining it. “I’d rather not think about that.”
“It’ll be just like our second-year sports festival...”
“You don’t need to bring this up again,” Shouto insisted, grateful he didn’t blush easily. Even a year later, the mortification of the experience was still fresh in his memory.
“...when there were a dozen girls, and a couple of guys crowded around our classroom afterwards...”
“It wasn’t nearly that many,” he argued, desperately trying to regain control oner the conversation. It had been five or six at most. Midoriya had witnessed it, much to his chagrin, and told them all very kindly but firmly to leave him alone.
“...and they all wanted you to sign the picture of you from the second round where you burnt your shirt off...” She finally broke, cackling so loudly that Shouto worried that Sero would hear her from the room next door. “Everyone wanted a shot at the class pretty boy!”
“Have you had your fun yet?” He crossed his arms, waiting for her to finish. He’d never quite understood why everyone still insisted on calling him the “pretty boy” of their class. There were certainly people who better fit the description. Midoriya for example. His freckle-covered cheeks and wide smile were enchanting, and Shouto didn’t see how anyone could think someone whose face was half-covered by a scar could compare. Not that anyone could compare with Midoriya, but it confused him just the same.
Still snickering, she flopped into his bed. “Fine, fine.” She waved her hand back and forth. “I’ll stop for now. What exactly did you need help with?”
“I was hoping you could go to dinner with me at my father’s house and pretend to be my date.” He took a seat beside her, lacing his hands together in his lap. “I know this is a really weird request and you’re probably not comfortable with it..”
“I’ll do it.” She nodded decisively.
“Really?” He stared at her. He'd come prepared to beg for her assistance, to outline why he needed her help in spite of all the reasons she should run the other way. “Are you sure? I want you to know exactly what you’re agreeing to. Dinner with my father isn’t a pleasant affair. He’ll interrogate us about our relationship. He won’t be an easy person to fool.”
“Are you trying to talk me out of it now? I said I’ll help, and I’ll help.” Her voice softened, and she gave him a half-smile. “I know this is important to you. You wouldn’t ask for something like this if it wasn’t.”
“Thanks.” He swallowed, a thick feeling in his throat. “I really appreciate it.” Something unwound from around his chest, the tension leeching out from his shoulders. He hadn’t even noticed how tautly he’d been holding himself until this point.
If she hadn’t agreed to help him, he wasn’t sure what he would have done. He wasn’t as close to anyone as he was outside of Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka. He’d been gradually drawn into the friend group after their first-year sports festival, with Midoriya coaxing him to sit with them at lunch, and he’d just sort of . . . stayed. While it had taken a while to feel like they were his friends, and not just Midoriya’s, Shouto could say he was truly close with both Iida and Uraraka now.
He was comfortable with them in ways he wasn’t with the rest of the class. They’d shared a lot with each other, Uraraka about her family’s money troubles, and Iida about his worries over his brother’s recovery. It had taken Shouto a longer open up about his family. For a long time, Midoriya was the only one he’d told, but finally, he decided to confide in them, and they’d listened, they’d believed him. But he wasn’t ready to do that with anyone else.
Which was why Uraraka was, for all intents and purposes, perfect for this. He trusted her with this secret, and he believed she was bright and cheery enough to make polite small talk for an evening with even some of the least pleasant company. His father expected to see a respectable up-and-coming hero with a strong quirk, and that was exactly what he would get.
She was doing him a huge favor. And he wasn’t even telling her the full truth.
A prick of guilt stabbed him. She was his friend. It wasn’t like telling her this secret would make her see him any differently, but Shouto couldn’t ignore the knot in his stomach. His father always said that caring about people made you weaker. That it gave others a hold over you; something to use against you, but Shouto didn’t think that was true. Midoriya cared more than anyone he knew, and he wasn’t weak. If anything, he gained strength from the way he wholeheartedly loved his friends.
Shouto could still see the determination sparking in his eyes as he screamed at him, shattering his fingers, begging Shouto to see there was nothing wrong or bad about his fire. Midoriya not only gained strength, but he also gave it. He’d had taught him to let people in, to accept all of himself. Shouto took a deep breath. He could do this.
“Everything alright?” Uraraka looked at him with worried eyes, gently resting a hand on his arm.
No. Everything wasn’t alright. And he was so tired of carrying it alone.
“There’s something I think I should tell you first. There's another reason I told my father I have a girlfriend. It's because I didn't want him to know why I was so opposed to being set up with his friend's daughter.” Lacing his hands together, he squared his shoulders. “There’s someone I like. And I know he wouldn’t approve.”
She watched him carefully. “It’s Deku, isn’t it,” she guessed.
“What? Why? I don’t even, I mean, what makes you think I was talking about Midoriya?” he stammered, breath catching in his throat. How had she seen through him so easily? Had he really been so transparent?
She raised her eyebrows at him. “Seriously? That weird thing between you two this afternoon? The way you stare so wistfully at him when you think no one is looking? Not to mention how you drop everything at a moment’s notice to be around him.” Crossing her arms, she looked him up and down. “Please. Give me more credit than that. I’m not fooled that easily.”
“Does anyone else know about this?” Mortified, he felt his face heating.
“I’m pretty sure I’m the only one. And don’t worry about Midoriya, he’s almost as oblivious as you are.”
“What?” What did she mean by that?
“Never mind.” She dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. “My point is, you don’t have to worry about anyone spilling your secret.”
“That’s a relief.” His shoulders slumped as if a weight had been lifted off them. “Thanks again for offering to help.” His father couldn't find out about Midoriya. There was no one Endeavor hated more than All Might, and by default, his successor, no matter how much Midoriya denied it. But with Uraraka’s help, he might be able to keep his real feelings under wraps for a while longer.
“Anytime.” She grabbed his hand with both of hers and looked him in the eye. “I mean it, Todoroki, anytime you need something, I’m here for you. We’re here for you. Seriously, you can go to me or Iida or Midoriya anytime. We’d do anything to help you.”
“I know you would,” he choked out. Clearing his throat, he continued, “it means a lot to me.” He never would have believed that he would have people like this in his life when he first started attending Yuuei. They were people he trusted, people he cared for, and who supported him in turn. Before Yuuei, before Midoriya, he would never have admitted to anything that could possibly be used against him, but now, he had friends who would support him even if his own father didn’t.
“You should tell him how you feel.” She released his hand, and he looked away.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea.” His chest seized at the idea. There was no way that Midoriya felt the same. “We’re friends and that’s enough for now.”
He could be content with where things were if it means he could keep Midoriya in his life, even if he could never be his.
“Just think about it, okay?” She took a deep breath, hesitating for a moment, but continued. “Look, I don’t want to push you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with, but this is Midoriya. It’s not like he would stop being your friend just because you have feelings for him!”
“Fine. I’ll think about it,” he agreed. But the thought of actually talking to Midoriya about how he felt made his stomach flip. Uraraka was right, wasn’t she? Midoriya wouldn’t walk away from their friendship just because Shouto had feelings for him, right? But he wasn’t sure he could take that risk.
“I don’t think you’ll regret talking to him,” she insisted, but after taking note of the tension evident in Shouto’s face, she changed the subject. “We should probably make a few preparations if we’re going to convince your father that we’re a couple.”
They spent the rest of the day together planning. As it was Sunday, they had only a few days to prepare. Under Uraraka’s direction, they crafted a story that he hoped would be believable. She insisted that for any good fake relationship, it was vital to agree on details such as who asked who out or when their first date was.
“We can’t look like we’re making all this up on the spot. We have to act like we’re comfortable with each other,” she stressed, drumming her pencil on her notebook.
“This is all so complicated.” Shouto picked up a list Uraraka had written, reading over all the things she insisted they needed to do. “How did you come up with all of this?”
Looking up at him, she raised her eyebrows. “Have you never watched a romantic comedy?”
“No.”
“You’ve never watched a rom com? Seriously? Wow.” Grabbing the piece of paper from him, she scribbled something down. “Going on the list!”
“Oh boy.” He sighed in the face of Uraraka’s boundless energy, already beginning to feel exhausted.
“Hey!” She pointed her pencil accusingly at him. “This was your idea. I’m just trying to make sure we’re prepared.”
“And watching cheesy movies is part of being prepared?” He raised an eyebrow, skeptical of her reasoning.
“Absolutely. You don’t want to make any of the classic fake relationship mistakes!”
“No, we certainly wouldn’t want to make any of those.” Privately, he wondered if “classic fake relationship mistakes” were even a real thing. Realistically, the only major mistake they could make would be getting caught. But other than that, Shouto really couldn’t foresee any real issues that could arise from having a fake girlfriend.
Except for the fact that he was in love with someone else.
* * *
Despite her misgivings, Ochako had agreed to help Todoroki with his ridiculous scheme. Even though she could very well see the many, many ways in which this could go wrong, she just couldn’t bring herself to leave him to his own devices, so, against her better judgement, she was now his (very fake) girlfriend.
There was a part of her that was afraid that if she didn’t help he’d resort to an even worse idea.
Like asking one of the underclassmen for help. That certainly wouldn’t go over well. Though hopefully he’d have had the presence of mind to ask the rest of class 3-A’s girls before resorting to something that desperate.
In all honesty, though, she probably hadn’t thought things through enough before agreeing to go along with the plan.
But Todoroki had seemed so desperate, so earnest, and she hated the idea of disappointing one of her friends. There wasn’t much time to dwell on her decision, though. It was kind of hard to think about anything else after Todoroki’s admission that he liked Midoriya.
Really though, anyone paying attention should have been able to guess. She thought back to when they all first started going to Yuuei, and how standoffish Todoroki had been then. He’d really only started warming up to people after Midoriya had spoken with him. It had been a gradual process, but she’d watched him open up and start connecting with people, starting with Midoriya. Even now, two and a half years later, it was clear that Todoroki was closest with Midoriya. The two of them had a special connection that differed from their connection with the rest of their class.
Ochako often caught Todoroki watching Midoriya when he thought no one was looking. He would get the softest look on his face as he gazed at him, and had the faintest, barely perceptible smile. And when Midoriya would go off on one of his tangents, mumbling about some obscure topic that he had a weird amount of knowledge about, Todoroki would stare at him, fully captivated by whatever he was saying.
It was really one of the sweetest things she had ever seen. The only way things could be better would be if he would just talk to him, instead carrying on with his continuous pining.
Naturally, Midoriya hadn’t noticed any of this. While his modesty was admirable, the magnitude of his obliviousness was enough to drive her crazy. She sighed, rolling her eyes. As much as she wanted them to get together on their own, they were going to need some help.
Good thing she was prepared to nudge them along in the right direction.