bnha oneshots (vol 1)

034 ⋆ strawberry kisses 🌸🍋

ship: todokiri
notes: a gift for my dear friend Ashy; a follow-up she requested for "what's so funny about strawberries?"

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It's been weeks since Shouto and Eijirou had spent time together since that one evening. With spring exams so close and summer vacation following right around the bend, naturally, they began to drift apart as time went on.

It's not like they stopped talking to each other; neither would allow for that to happen after the things they've shared and done the days prior, but time had a way to fit their circumstances so imperfectly that hanging out simply wasn't an option.

Eijirou spent more time studying with Bakugou (as he always does whenever they had any upcoming tests) and Shouto himself took to reviewing his notes in his room. The only semblance of their relationship that used to be—if there ever was. Shouto's assuming things at this point—is that Shouto continues their tradition of trying out any and every strawberry-flavored snack he can get his hands on. He isn't usually so big on sweets, but indulging in them brings an odd air of nostalgia whenever he submits himself to the artificial goodness of the seasons's prized berry.

His siblings took notice of his growing obsession with things flavored strawberry, and gradually, Shouto's life became overrun by an enormous runner of strawberries. They were in his tea, part of his breakfast—his body wash, even (though he isn't daring enough to see if his strawberry-scented soap tastes as good as it smells). He's become fully entangled in a fruitful garden, and yet these things felt like mere placeholders for the person who started it from the very ground up.

It's a strange thing to grow an attachment to strawberries of all things. Logically, there's hardly any sentimental value about them; they're most popular in the spring and summer, and then fall comes and they're barely spared a glance until next spring. Yet for Shouto, everything about the berry had new meaning now from its vibrant red to its sweet, tender flesh. It brings him back to that night and the days that preceded it—the gentle touches and whispers and kisses that brought about his insatiable craving for more: more sweets, more red, more Kirishima Eijirou.

And there's truly nothing more deadly than a sugar addiction, yet Shouto isn't afraid to ride the highs and crash and burn over and over again.

Shouto doesn't notice he's been chewing on his pen cap until a piece of hard plastic breaks off into his mouth. Suddenly the blurred words he's been staring at for the past half hour sharpen to crisp black on white. The evening sun lounges on the horizon and bathes his room a soft brass that filters through his shoji screen, ajar, the screen itself rattling on its hinges at the breeze that forces its way through the slit. Shouto blinks, grimacing as he spits out his mutilated pen cap and tosses it towards his bin. It clinks against it, but whether it made it in or not, Shouto doesn't bother to check.

He scoots back his chair and brings himself to stand and stretch, shirt riding up just as his arms begin to curl behind his head. A sigh escapes him, and so does a shiver at a bite of chill prickling his stomach. He moves for the screen door, pauses when the sun catches his eye. There's a fire in the sky; clouds smoked in hues of crimson and amber, warm in comparison to the cool gusts of wind that rustles the sakuras just off the edge of his balcony.

It's peaceful; short-lived once he notes his phone pings for him. The screen lights up with texts from one of his friends—Midoriya, he realizes once he picks it up.

Thursday, 18:36
[MIDORIYA]: Hey! Sorry to interrupt your studies! Just wanted you to know Sato and I brought some fruit to share with the dorm!