Todoroki let out one last wall of ice, piercing through the final dummy target as he caught his breath harshly.

It was Sunday night and he thought training at the gym in the dorms would help release the disappointment and frustration he'd been battling all weekend.

He had holed himself up in his room and stared blankly at his ceiling for hours, thoughts swirling endlessly without conclusion.

He was really going to develop a migraine problem.

Surveying the tattered walls and damaged floor, he stood up, brushing debris off his uniform, and made his way toward his bag to pack up.

He'd made a mess, but it didn't do much but cool off a little of his repressed anger.

"Feel better half-and-half?"

Shoto raised his head to look at the door, finding Bakugou leaned against the doorway with his bag slung across his shoulder.

He turned away and avoided eye contact, silently continuing to pack his own bag.

Bakugou strode over, his hands in his pockets and a neutral expression on his face. His eyes narrowed minutely. "You should apologize"

Todoroki stared intently at his hands, balled up tightly into fists "I know"

"No, you don't fucking know!" Bakugou glared roughly, voice crescendoing slowly into a loud snarl

"She planned that stupid fucking trip and she was looking forward to spending it with you, bastard, now she feels like a fucking loser because your rejection was as cold as half your fucking quirk!"

Shoto closed his eyes briefly, wincing at the cutting edge of Bakugou's words. His stomach was dropping into that familiar feeling of guilt--but he just couldn't find the words.

He still didn't know what to say to her.

"You hurt her fucking feelings!" Bakugou exploded his palms in rage, growling like a large guard dog. "And she thinks you're fucking mad at her when you're actually just fucking mad at yourself!"

And immediately after the words exited his mouth, the explosive blond's expression deflated into something that resembled pained. The sparks in his fists died down.

Todoroki had never seen him look so small--so powerlessly vulnerable, in the two years that he'd known Bakugou Katsuki

"She deserves better" Katsuki uttered softly out of the side of his mouth, the indignant rage gradually disappearing from his red eyes. His features twisted into something Shoto had never seen before, he looked so torn--but ultimately resigned.

It was a punch to the gut, and he finally realized.

Katsuki cared for Ochako.

Katsuki liked Ochako.

It made sense.

The fact that he agreed to go to the dance with her despite vehemently loathing those, in his words "dumbass fancy-for-fucking-nothing school events"

And he even went out of his way to confront Shoto about hurting her feelings, that was sufficient proof.

And Ochako most probably felt the same way.

The realization stung. The tight feeling was back in his chest, but this time it was accompanied with a prickling sensation in the area suspiciously close to his heart.

Why did it hurt so much?

Friends should be happy for each other. Shoto should throw her a party to celebrate the newfound budding relationship between her and Bakugou.

But he wasn't happy.

Why?

Maybe... It was because he also---

No

It didn't matter, anyway. What mattered was how Ochako felt. They were friends, and friends didn't hurt each other.

He didn't deserve her friendship.

"I know" Shoto's shoulders loosened defeatedly. "I don't deserve her"

The fire in Bakugou's eyes relit, his teeth bared in a growl.

"Then fucking man up and give her what she deserves! you fucking moron" he grabbed Todoroki by the collar and hissed in his face, "You better fucking take care of her, Icyhot"

That threw him for a loop.

The question in Todoroki's eyes was indubitable as he lifted his head to stare at Bakugou in shock. Why would he say that?

"I-I don't understand," Todoroki furrowed his brow, bewildered by the implications of Bakugou's words. "Shouldn't I be saying that to you?"

Bakugou let go of him, stumbling back with an expression of disappointment plastered in his hardened visage.

"You're fucking stupid as hell, half-and-half" Bakugou's voice dropped to a whisper, sounding defeated and wounded and maybe even something else that Todoroki couldn't classify.

Todoroki stood there, stupefied at the display he just witnessed, as Bakugou shuffled out of the room with his hands back in his pockets and a casually neutral look back on his face.

What was that?