Todoroki waited in their spot as usual. Every day like clockwork, they'd meet each other by the shoe lockers near the school entrance. From there, they'd walk each other home, talking about the latest hero news or the training they went through during their part-time internships. Midoriya had always admired Todoroki's drive to improve himself and used that as a source of inspiration in his own training.
"Ready, Midoriya?" said Todoroki as he approached him, slipping his street shoes onto his feet.
"Yeah, sure am!" beamed Midoriya as they left school. "Did I tell you that I was offered the chance to accompany my internship Pro on a low-level mission?"
Todoroki paused and turned around, "No, this is the first I'm hearing of it. Are you sure that's wise? You've barely just recovered from your latest injuries."
"But it's such a great opportunity! And I feel fine, you worry about me too much."
"Well if I don't, no one else will. I think you should skip this one." Todoroki resumed his pace forward, leaving a stunned Midoriya watching his back before he hurried to catch up to his side. He wasn't used to Todoroki voicing his opinion like this and felt slightly insulted by the lack of faith in his abilities. He had his provisional license, so it wasn't like the times before when the villains caught them unprepared. Midoriya decided to not bring up the subject again to Todoroki, lest he hear another lecture.
"It's going to rain this week. Make sure you bring your umbrella, Midoriya," said Todoroki when he saw the boy standing at his locker the next day. "With exams coming up, it'd be a bad time to fall ill by getting drenched."
"I'll remember! You know, I'm pretty sure I don't need a second mom to keep on me about all these little things." He didn't know why he snapped at Todoroki like that. It wasn't like he was always forgetting things like his umbrella. Just occasionally.
Todoroki leaned against the lockers, his arms crossed defensively over his chest. He knew how forgetful Midoriya could be when he was nervous and anxious. So his little quip about getting nagged like a mom didn't offend him. Ever since their match in the Sports Festival, he'd felt different about Midoriya. Initially, he had wanted to surpass him as a rival, but now his feelings had become more abstract and harder to identify. When Midoriya was around, he felt warmer somehow. And he wanted to protect that warmth. Even from the rain.
"Perhaps you do need someone to keep you in line, because you just put on Iida's slippers rather than your own." He watched with a light smirk as Midoriya frantically slipped them off and replaced them in Iida's locker before retrieving his own, a splash of red across his freckled cheeks.
"Y-you were just distracting me, that's all!" Midoriya didn't hate Todoroki's constant observations. It was reassuring that Todoroki felt it necessary to worry about him. Although there were times it could get tiresome, he appreciated the meaning behind the gestures.
"Whatever you want to believe, let's go before we're late for class," Todoroki said as he laid a reassuring hand against Midoriya's shoulder, letting it linger there a moment longer than necessary before walking away. The blush against Midoriya's cheeks grew further until his neck was flushed. Physical interactions were few and far between with them other than in fighting simulations, but it flustered Midoriya nonetheless when it did happen. There was just something soothing about his touch, but he wasn't sure just how to approach this reaction or analyze what it could mean.
The next day was a dull overcast, the rain coming down in intermittent downpours and random light drizzle. Midoriya had been called out of class and hadn't returned by the time the day had ended. Grabbing his backpack and umbrella, Todoroki made his way to the lockers to wait for him. He watched through the large window panes as the rain assaulted the ground outside, wondering just what was taking Midoriya so long.
After an hour-long wait, Todoroki went to find their teacher, Mr. Aizawa, to ask about Midoriya's whereabouts.
"His intern agency requested him for a mission he had accepted earlier in the week. He had asked me for permission beforehand, knowing it could potentially interrupt his class time. You two are always working together, he didn't mention it to you?"
Todoroki averted his eyes, "Yeah, he may have brought it up at one point. Sorry for the interruption, sir. Good day."
There was a pain in his chest, dull and constant. Why had Midoriya kept this from him? It hurt that he didn't know. It wasn't that Midoriya owed it to him, but after all this time, he couldn't trust him to say that he'd accepted the job against his advice?
"He didn't bring his umbrella today, either," Todoroki noted as he stalked off towards the school exit. "Why must you always be so reckless, Midoriya!" Stepping out into the cold rain, Todoroki opened his umbrella and made his way to Midoriya's intern agency. The least he could do was make sure he didn't catch a cold once he finished his task.
"They're still on location, but I'm sure they'll be reporting in soon," said the receptionist. "Please, take a seat and I'll let you know once I hear something."
"Thank you." He sat down across from the doorway, hoping to be the first person that Midoriya saw once they returned. There was so much on his mind that he wanted to get out to him, but visually confirming he was safe and unhurt took priority.
The sun had set hours ago, and Todoroki had started to doze off, the chair keeping him uncomfortable enough to not completely fall asleep. Any little noise alerted him to open his eyes before letting them drift closed again. His umbrella leaned against his knee, the rain soaking through the leg of his pants. He'd have to complain to Midoriya about this discomfort once he came back.
"Hello?" said the receptionist as she answered the office phone. "Yes, they were at that location. I'm not sure what you me— Are you sure? Oh my God…"
Todoroki felt the pain in the woman's voice as she took down some numbers and names, then quickly hung up.
"What happened?" He knew, though. Maybe not the details, but he knew that her tone could only mean one possibility.
"Th-there was an accident. I'm sorry, young man, but you'll have to leave."
Gripping the umbrella tightly, he added his own tears to the dampness.