Shouto clicked his tongue, annoyed at himself. He was early again.

It was Sunday morning, and true to his weekly routine, he had come to see his mother. But because of that man, he had been far too early. Sneaking around him was difficult and the only time he could have left was two hours earlier than he was meant to, so Fuyumi snuck him out and advised him to wander around until it was time to go see Mom.

But somehow Shouto ended up at the hospital still an hour early. He didn't see the point in leaving, so he started to walk, to find a place to sit until he was supposed to see his mother.

Roaming the corridors, trying to find somewhere to sit, Shouto stopped dead in his tracks when he came face to face with one of the last people he thought he'd see here, in a hospital.

Her black eyes stared into his different coloured ones and neither of them knew what to think.

Momo Yaoyorozu was not someone Shouto thought he'd ever see in a hospital. But she was right here, in front of him, in the corridor of a building where people died every day.

There was nothing about the situation that Shouto understood. Granted, he didn't know enough about any of his classmates to be able to determine why any of them would be at a hospital, but still.

In that moment, the one and only thing Shouto was sure of was that Yaoyorozu had been crying.

Her eyes were puffy and red and her face was stained with tears and Shouto realised another terrible thing.

She was alone.

If it was anything he had learned from his experience of what was supposed to be his childhood, it was that being upset and being alone were a very dangerous combination. It was one of the things he appreciated about Fuyumi: she never let him be alone.

Momo choked out a sob she tried to stifle which snapped Shouto back to reality. He guided her to the bench by the vending machine, which had just been emptied.

Momo let Todoroki guide her and sat down, ignoring what sounded like Todoroki buying something from the vending machine; she had bigger problems than whatever Todoroki was doing.

She felt the tears well up again and covered her face with her hands; she didn't want to cry right now, not here, not in front of someone, especially not someone she looked up to.

All she wanted to do was cry; it didn't make sense, nothing made sense. The hospital didn't make sense, Todoroki didn't make sense, she didn't make sense. She just wanted to go home and curl up and never do anything again, she just wanted to—

"Yaoyorozu." Todoroki's voice was softer and quieter than she'd ever heard it, and Momo didn't know; was it because he didn't want to make her cry, or were his own circumstances making him sad?

Oh! His circumstances! Todoroki was here at the hospital too and instead he was helping her! It was just like him to—

"Yaoyorozu." He called again, this time firmer and she uncovered her face.

He was holding out an opened can. "You should drink something." Momo was in no mood to drink anything; is that why Todoroki had opened the can? So that she would be compelled to drink out of not wanting to waste anything?

But Momo didn't care; not today, not right now. She hunched over and held her face again; maybe if she waited long enough he would leave her alone.

She blocked him out; him and the world, and focused on her own circumstances. She had to deal with it, move forward, do something, anything, but she didn't know how. It was hopeless; everything was hopeless.

Momo choked out another sob and just let it come; she just cried. She didn't know how much time had passed or what had happened to the drink she'd turned down; all she knew was that she was crying and sobbing and she didn't know if she'd ever stop.

She knew Todoroki was still there, on the other end of the bench, but still there, not saying anything. She didn't care that he was witness to her breaking down, losing herself in her tears, though she was thankful that he hadn't asked or said anything about it.

She couldn't tell him, she couldn't tell anyone.

Just thinking about it, Momo cried harder and for longer and where were all these tears even coming from? Was there this much sadness in her? Had there always been?

It hurt, it hurt so much. She wanted to be okay and she wanted to stop crying, but she wasn't okay and she wouldn't stop crying.

Momo didn't know how long it took her to calm down; how long it took for her to go from sobbing to short breaths and sniffles.

"Do you …" Todoroki started, and Momo wondered if she had jinxed it when she was thankful for him not saying anything. "… want to talk about it?"

His voice was very soft, gentle; like if he spoke too loud she'd start crying again. And she wanted to say that it didn't help, but it did. It helped give her the confidence she needed to say no, however small that confidence was right now.

And he'd said okay; he'd left it at that. Maybe if it had been someone else, anyone else, they might have pushed, but Todoroki didn't. That helped too.

It also made Momo think that maybe Todoroki was all too familiar with being sad, since he'd done everything right since he'd seen her. And that made her feel even worse.

And then she wondered why he was here, at the hospital. She turned to him, and he was only sat there, looking in front of him, arms folded. And then she remembered. If she asked him, then he would ask her and then she'd have to answer him and she couldn't do that. She couldn't tell him; she couldn't even tell her mother.

Oh god. Her mother, her parents, her family, her—

Another sob. And that was it, she was crying again. It was wrong, it was all wrong, everything was wrong. Nothing was right, nothing was okay, everything was ruined. And there was no way to fix it, none. Just like there was no way to stop her sobbing.

But she tried, and she calmed down enough to be able to talk and she apologised; apologised to Todoroki for all the crying. She still didn't know how much time had passed, but she knew it had been long. It certainly felt that way.

She didn't think Todoroki would reply, but he did. He said it was okay, even that it was good that she was crying.

It made her feel only a little bit better, so why was she crying harder now?

His kindness was overwhelming, and she didn't deserve it, especially not now. In this moment, on this day, the only thing she wanted was for things to go back to the way they were this morning, back to when she didn't know and nothing was wrong.

Momo sobbed and cried her heart out and she didn't care how long she did it for. Every cry felt like an hour, every tear felt like another and she just kept sobbing and never stopping. She wanted to cry her heart out until it was all gone, until she was empty inside, so she did, she tried. She cried for so long, so very long.

It was the least she could have: to cry as much and as for long as she wanted.

"Yaoyorozu."

His voice was firm, still soft, but firmer. It calmed Momo down enough and she lifted her head and turned to him.

"I don't know what's wrong, and you don't have to tell me, but," he paused, and turned to her, his eyes the softest they'd been all day, "just take it one step at a time."

What?

Momo's heartache dissipated, the world stilled and in that moment, all that existed were Todoroki's words.

"You look at the big picture a lot," Shouto explained; it was something that had become clearer to him since their exam, "and it's good, but some things are best to take one step at a time."

The world didn't move as Todoroki's words sunk in. Words of someone who was almost never wrong. Even now he was spot on.

That's all she had to do; take it one step at a time. That was it. It was that simple.

It embarrassed Momo at how simple that was. She turned back to face the ground, and cried again, softer this time.

Maybe she'd never get through this, maybe it would destroy her forever, but she wasn't going to let it stop her from doing what she wanted, from becoming a hero. She wouldn't let it.

But it was still sad, it still hurt, and Momo still cried.

She was thankful for Todoroki, who had done so much for her, especially today. He had stayed with her for so long and—

Wait.

How long had Todoroki had been here? Didn't he have somewhere to go? Wasn't he late?

"Don't you have somewhere to go?" Momo managed to get out, in between sniffles and short sharp breaths. She wasn't going to ask him where, she didn't want to start that conversation. She'd had enough for today.

"Do you want me to go?"

Momo's world stilled again. Todoroki's words hung in the air almost looming over her, and she could hear her pounding heart.

She knew the answer. It was ringing in her head, loud, so loud. Louder than the world, louder than her heartbeat.

But she sunk deeper into the ball she'd folded herself into and quietly answered.

"No."

She was being selfish, she knew, but she didn't care. She at least didn't want to be alone, she wanted there to be one good thing today, this day which would haunt her for maybe the rest of her life.

"Then no," Todoroki spoke, and Momo focused on every syllable, anything to distract her from her circumstances, "I don't have anywhere to go."

Momo choked out something that was between a sob and a "Thank you." and resumed her crying. She was so sad, and so hurt and it helped, it helped so much that Todoroki was here.

There was something about Todoroki's presence that was calming, assuring. Maybe it was because he always seemed so sure of everything, or maybe it wasn't. Momo didn't know and she didn't care.

All that mattered was that Todoroki was here. No matter how alone she would be; at least at this moment in time, on this day, she wasn't alone entirely.

"Is there something," Todoroki asked; and Momo admired his bravery, "you're hesitating with?"

She could almost hear the "again" he left out. But it was true. She couldn't say anything about that.

"Yes." Momo answered, creating herself a handkerchief and cleaning her face, still looking at the floor.

She knew Todoroki was disappointed; of course, he would be. All she did was hesitate. But in this, if nothing else, it was justified. It had to be.

She didn't care what Todoroki was going to say. No one could fix this, there was no "answer", there was nothing.

"What's the worst that could happen?"

He had asked so innocently, Momo smiled sadly. So much Todoroki, there was so much that could go wrong, so very much. It would start today, when Momo would go home and break the news to her mother. Another person's life to ruin.

"My older sister always told me," Todoroki paused, and Momo knew he was about to share something he never had before, "we're never given more than what we can handle."

The world stilled again, and even shifted into place a little bit. The sounds became clearer, her view sharpened, Momo felt the world come into view; as if all her senses were heightened.

She could handle this, she could get through this. Just like Todoroki could get through his own family trauma, just like Bakugou could get through his problem with Midoriya, just like they could all overcome all the problems in their life.

Momo shed her last tear for that day and smiled; she would be okay.

She sniffed again, stood up and bowed in gratitude to Todoroki, who also stood up.

He asked if she was sure she would be okay; there was no way a few words could heal her from whatever was troubling her.

"No." Yaoyorozu smiled at him, "But I'll be able to handle it."

Everything else blurred out and in that moment, all Shouto could see was Yaoyorozu's unwavering smile; a sign of the strength and confidence she always doubted.

He let it go; whatever it was that had hurt her, Shouto knew that Yaoyorozu would be able to handle it. Now she knew it too.

They parted ways; Momo went home and Shouto looked to the clock. It had been an hour; just enough time.

Shouto turned around and headed to the psychiatric ward, where he would tell his mother about the girl in his class who he wished could see how much of a hero she already was.