Chapter Text
Shouto was beginning to get annoyed at the constant thumping from next door. It wasn’t uncommon, the apartment building he lived in commonly housed many students of the local art school, himself included, so the apartments changed hands like cards in a game of Spoons. Nonetheless, the grinding and bumping of new tenants never ceased to annoy Shouto.
He was a musician, so he technically couldn’t complain about a somewhat loud neighbor, but at least he tried to keep the noise low and mainly during the day. It was now nine in the evening, and his new neighbor was still moving around boxes and furniture. He groaned, flopping over on the couch, before reaching for his phone and opening the messenger app.
Me: Hey.
Momo: Hello, Shouto. Something on your mind?
Momo Yaoyorozu was Shouto’s first, and probably his only friend. They’d met before as children, due to their parents being involved in similar business, and had remained friends. The most probable cause was the fact that until a few years ago, neither really knew anyone else their age. They’d both ended up at the same university, Shouto in the Music program and Momo majoring in Pottery and Sculpture. Shouto’s father, Enji, head of the Endeavor Company, had wanted Shouto to attend a prestigious business school and become head of the company, but Shouto had instead applied to art school.
This was for two main reasons: one, Shouto wanted to spite his father and his older brother Touya thought it’d be funny. Two, Shouto was much more interested in music than running an international corporation. His mother had been a famous singer-songwriter before marrying his father and leaving the industry to bear children. Shouto still remembered when his mother would sing to him and his siblings as a child, and still resented his father for bringing around the end of that singing.
Me: Not much in my mind besides annoyance atm.
Momo: Oh? Natsuo hassling you about getting a girlfriend again?
Me: No, but there's someone new moving into the apartment next to mine. Won't stop making noise.
Momo: Ah, so Shouto’s aversion to new people strikes again!
Me: It's not the people. It’s the noise. It’s after 9 and they’re still bumping around.
Momo: I’m sure you made an equal amount of noise when you first settled in. Anyways, it’s not like this is anything new. Everytime someone new comes in, you complain about the noise. Remember the one who played his bass at two in the morning?
Me: Oh believe me, I remember him. However, I saw some of their luggage in the hallway earlier and didn’t notice any instruments, so I should be safe.
Momo: Ah, that’s good then! Well, I should finish these designs. The professor introduced the new project today and I don’t want to fall behind. Have a good night, and good luck!
Me: Goodnight.
Shouto dropped his phone with a sigh. The thumping next door had tapered off, and the annoyance in his mind cleared the way for curiosity. With college students, the type you met was always a toss of the dice, especially with art students. Some were shy, some were exuberant, and some were downright crazy. Shouto had never been good at making friends, and found social interaction confusing and exhausting. There were plenty of students in his classes, and most of them seemed nice, but Shouto had not yet worked up the energy nor courage to try and talk with them. However, perhaps his new neighbor would be able to put up with Shouto’s inability to socialize outside of a formal setting.
He groaned, then ambled to his room to grab his guitar. Playing the acoustic always seemed to take his mind off of things, and Shouto had heard a song on the radio today with an interesting sequence of chords. Eager to distract himself, he settled into his chair and let the music fill his mind.
* * *
The next morning, Shouto was awoken by a knock at his front door. He checked the time, and groaned. Seven in the morning . Not that this was uncommon; his sister Fuyumi often stopped by on weekends, and she sometimes had to come in the mornings because of work. Stumbling to the door, Shouto didn’t really think about who might be on the other side before he swung it open and was met with a rather unfamiliar sight. Instead of his sister, Shouto instead saw a head of unruly green curls and round emerald eyes.
Shouto shuffled backwards, suddenly self-conscious about the fact that he was still in his pajamas, and had just woken up. “Hello?”
The boy looked a bit startled, before perking up. “Hello! I’m Izuku Midoriya, your new neighbor! Though,” he started, taking in Shouto’s appearance, “is this a bad time? I can come back later, if you…” he trailed off, ears turning pink.
Shouto waved a hand. “No, it’s okay, no worries. I’m Shouto Todoroki. Nice to meet you,” He added, sticking out a hand.
He shook it tentatively, still looking a little embarrassed. “Ah, yeah, n-nice to meet you, too. Anyways, I, um, I brought some cookies? I mean, you don’t have to take them, I just like to bake and I thought it’s be nice to give some to the people in the apartments next to me. Oh, I’m rambling now, I’m so sorry, I always-”
“Thank you,” Shouto interjected, cutting him off from the mini-tirade he was about to launch. Izuku handed him a Ziploc bag of chocolate cookies, and Shouto offered his best attempt at a smile as he took them from him. “They look wonderful. Not many people here can even cook, much less bake something like this. So, thank you.”
He nodded, ears turning red again, before murmuring a, “Hope you have a good day,” and slipping back into his apartment. Shouto headed back inside, picking up his phone to text Momo again.
Me: Nevermind, Momo. He’s actually quite nice.
* * *
Izuku managed to make it inside his apartment and to his sofa before practically collapsing. He desperately reached for his phone, fumbling for the messenger app.
Me: ochako help me
Me: help me im in trouble
bubblegum: Izuku what’s wrong??? What happened??
Me: so i went and brought cookies to the people living on my floor
Me: and the last guy i brought them to is right next to me
Me: and he was
Me: so hot its unfair
bubblegum: omgggg Izukuuuuu
bubblegum: i’m sure your small gay heart can handle it
Me: noooo u dont get it
Me: ochako?
Me: goddamnit dont leave me im in a crisis
Izuku groaned. Why did Ochako have to bail on him now, of all times? Probably because she knew Izuku was hopeless and would never manage to get beyond the crush stage with anyone. It was unfair, however. He’d just moved in and he already had a hot neighbor. However, Ochako did live in this building as well, so he could always go and bother her about it anyways. Instead, he headed to the room he was using as his studio, and set a blank canvas on the easel.
Words had never been his strong suit, but color and shape and texture came easily, flowing from his mind like water. Charcoal, pencil, paint, Izuku loved it all. He’d worked himself to the bone in order to be accepted into such a successful art school, and it was an opportunity he would not squander. Art was his passion, his strength, and his ultimate driving force.
Izuku opted for a tube of yellow acrylic paint, and sent a broad swathe of it across the canvas. Letting the scent of the paint settle in his nose, losing himself to the array of pigments before him, giving the fragments of his mind form. Later, he could worry about tuition and classes and Shouto; for now, there was only him and the brushes and the canvas before him.
* * *
Bells jingled as Shouto stepped into the cafe, and he looked around, searching for a familiar dark ponytail. Catching the vivid aroma of freshly-ground coffee, Shouto stepped up to the counter and ordered an iced Americano. After receiving his drink, he slid into the seat across from Momo and settled into the plush cushion.
“Ah, Shouto, hello!” Momo grinned, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “How are you today?”
Shouto sipped his coffee. “I’m okay. You’re still doing fine, I hope?” Although the two friends texted often, they were both busy with school and hadn’t had much time to hang out in person. It was only occasionally that they were able to meet up, either at each other's places or at little cafes like the one they were in now.
“I’m alright. Like I mentioned last night, Maijima-sensei assigned a new project, and I was sort of stressing out about it. He wants us to replicate a part of the human body, realistically so, in full ceramic. I was kind of wondering how to make it work, but…” she shrugged, “I think I figured it out.”
“Oh?” Shouto leaned forward, and the two delved into a conversation about their classes that somehow morphed into common principles of modern art, which again changed to a discussion of whether or not bagels were a breakfast staple.
A few hours later, Shouto rose stiffly from his seat, giving Momo a side-hug that would be awkward for anyone else, but completely genuine coming from him. “Well,” Momo smiled contentedly, “This was wonderful. I really do miss you Shouto, we must do this as often as we can.”
Shouto nodded. “It was nice. Keep me posted on the progress of your new project?” Momo nodded, giving one last grin before breezing out the door.