Chapter 2: You Creep

Stone cold eyes stared back at his frightened ones. His eyes watered with fear, fear for his short damn life, but any signs of weakness would only arouse the sadistic side of his assailant. Yet, he couldn't stop his legs from shaking. His instincts told him to run away now. But he couldn't. Those eyes, those empty and cruel eyes, dared him to make a step. And if he did, he was sure that this monster will pounce on him and slit his throat clean.

Every joint in his body seemed so weak at that moment, he wouldn't be surprised if he fell to his knees as the tremors in his body overpowered his pathetic attempt at bravery. God, the abandoned building was so silent, his unit made sure to isolate the area before conducting this operation.

Wait, the transition here is a mess. He should highlight this and review it later on...

Yet, there were loud thuds that were enough to deafen his ears. What was that? Ah, it was the thumping of his heart, desperately beating its best for it probably knows that it will be its last.

Hm, this seems rather cliché.

Could this monster hear it? Of course, he could! This abomination's strength was fueled by his victims' despair. And he was not going to give that to him.

Another cliché. His editor would probably nag him when he sees this.

"Show yourself, you fiend!" The young detective shouted. He stood his ground, trying to be defiant until the end even though it was a lost cause.

Slowly, a looming figure emerged from the shadows, the grin on its face slowly--

Todoroki Shouto slams his fist against the rough wooden table, a sigh of exasperation escaping from his unsmiling lips. Unbeknownst to him, other patrons from the cafe were giving him odd looks. The cold never bothered him, why should their looks mean anything?

The bi-haired man angrily grabs his Frappuccino and takes a large gulp. He makes a face. Brain freeze. He returns to his laptop, hoping that the splash of cold would inspire him to create a heart-racing scenario as his main character finally corners the antagonist.

Or was it the other way around?

That's for the readers to find out!

Todoroki stares at the screen for a minute or two before finally admitting that he was in a hard case of a writer's block.

He leans on the smooth circular table, left his hand supporting his tired face as he glances outside the glass cafe window, watching random passers-by as they go on with their day.

There are numerous stereotypes of people walking around Shibuya today. As it is every single day. Couples giddily holding each others' hands, students filled with excitement for they were finally released from class, salarymen carrying faux leather briefcases on the left hand, a can of beer on the right, cosplayers who stand out like a sore thumb in the crowd every once in a while, part-timers passing flyers or tissues or whatever to anyone who was kind enough to take it.

You know, just another busy day in Shibuya

Todoroki inhales, closing his eyes. He tries to imagine as if he's part of the hustle and bustle. Chatters, laughter, whispers, the sound of heels tapping against the warm pavement, accompanied by occasional beeps of angry motorcyclists or two. Once he exhales, he was immediately brought back to the reality of where he was currently at. The noises were replaced by the cliché cafe music of Cafe Perry.

Ah, Cafe Perry! His go-to place whenever he's at his wit's end and is in need of a safe place to hide from his editor, Aizawa-san, who is most probably waiting impatiently in front of his apartment, ready to nag him about the upcoming deadline for his novel.

"Sir," a voice says politely. "would you like a pitcher of water?"

Todoroki blinks.

This is rare. He's a regular in this place, the staffs already know about his 'rule' wherein Todorki orders if he wants to order and if he doesn't, don't you dare approach him and ask because any slight disturbance can easily destroy his concentration. His facial muscles tense, slight irritation visible on his face as clear as thin ice.

He scowls at the offending person in front of him, only to be greeted by a pair of unique shades of green eyes.

It was Midoriya.

The first time Todoroki saw Midoriya, he was greeting him at the café's entrance, it was like cherry blossoms bloomed around them and he felt a whirlwind of petals gushed softly at his face.

Midoriya is a few inches shorter than him, though they might possibly be the same age. He has the messiest hair Todoroki has ever seen, it looks like he has a permanent bed hair that no comb or hair product can tame. Even weirder, he has the hair color of forest green that made Todoroki wonder if he dyed it in that shade. If so, why green of all color? (But well, who was he to judge? Todoroki has been often accused as a cosplayer wherever he goes due to his naturally two-toned hair.) His smile, God, his smile, it's so bright and eye-catching that whenever he sees it, Todoroki couldn't help but smile as well. His face is dotted with freckles, though it doesn't decrease his appeal. To be honest, it actually makes his innocence more prominent. His hands, for a person who looks so fragile, is calloused and masculine. Not many people would notice, but a person of his stature, he's actually rather muscular. But Todoroki does. He notices.

Midoriya's a juxtaposition of contrasting qualities, but that's the reason why Todoroki thinks he's so perfect.

The first time, Todoroki saw him, he knew he was the one.

"Oh, I-I-I'm sorry sir." He mumbles like a child, it was the first time Midoriya was subjected to Todoroki's intense scowl. Not like Todoroki meant it, of course. "I-I-I-I've noticed that you've been a looking a b-b-b-bit troubled for quite some time n-n-n-now." Todoroki raises an eyebrow. "I t-t-thought a glass of cool water would help c-c-c-calm your n-n-nerves. I'm s-s-s-sorry for interrupting you."

"… Water," Todoroki agrees quietly. "I would like that."

The messy-haired waiter beams brightly at him, Todoroki is slightly taken aback that such an expression is directed towards him.

"Sorry about that." Todoroki looks away, uncharacteristically scratching the side of his face in regret. He's not the type of person to apologize, but he knows when to take responsibility for offending or scaring people due to his actions.

He was not that much of an asshole. He thinks…

Midoriya shakes his head and chuckled. "Oh no, it's alright sir. It's my fault for startling you like that in the first place."

God, that smile.

"Also, call me Todoroki," He pauses for a moment as if he is uttering a sacred word. "Midoriya."

He perks up as if he completely forgot about their last encounter. "Todoroki-kun," Midoriya says earnestly, and Todoroki felt his insides melt. The waiter bows at him, rushing back to the kitchen to get his water.

Todoroki's eyes return to his laptop, letting go of the breath he doesn't even notice he held in the first place. He continues staring blankly at the screen 'til Kingdome come when he hears something thump loudly at his table.

How quick and unnecessarily clumsy of Midoriya, he thinks, slowly raising his head up, only to see dark gloomy eyes instead of hopeful mesmerizing greens.

"Yo." Aizawa Shota greeted in a bored voice.

Todoroki blinks.

Twice.

He turns back to his laptop and types—

"I said, yo, you brat." Aizawa menacingly grabs Todoroki's head, threatening to crush his skull with his slowly tightening vice grip. "Is this how you treat your poor editor who you've been avoiding for the last two weeks since you fucking failed to pass your draft on the agreed date?"

Todoroki gulps nervously.

"Yo."

A nerve or two pops on Aizawa's temple. His nails further dig on the young boy's scalp, and Todoroki swears he could feel blood dripping down his head. "You should be glad you're our prized rookie novelist and that our president will literally kill me before I could harm a single hair on your pretty little head, kid."

You're already hurting me… Todoroki muses, but he knows that saying anything could only worsen the situation.

The gloomy middle-aged man lets go of Todoroki's head. Instead, he slides his heavy hand on the boy's shoulder. "You know, the age of adulthood in Japan is 20, not 18. So while I'm still your legal guardian, please don't go running around and disappearing for months end. I made a promise to your mother, but it's hard to keep if you're not cooperating with me."

Todoroki becomes rigid after hearing the word 'mother'. He stares at his clenched fist, frowning deeply. "I apologize."

Aizawa smiles, "You really are just a brat."

Aizawa Shouta, Todoroki's editor, legal guardian, and a long-time family friend. He's a man in his late-30s, with untidy hair and unkempt facial hair. His outfit consists of a white scarf and an all-black ensemble. You can pretty much say that Todoroki's current style is inspired by his 'uncle', since he literally grew up with this man and adapted pretty much everything from him.

"So is there any progress?" He asks, sitting down on the empty chair on the opposite side of Todoroki. The bi-haired man hesitates but ultimately passes his laptop toward his mentor/editor. Aizawa takes it without a word and begins to read it. "Some rough patches here and there…" He said, scratching his bloodshot eyes as he returns the gadget back to its owner. "But you made progress, at least."

Heterochromatic eyes brighten in what you can interpret as glee for normal people. Even though Aizawa's words are a bit vague, years of writing under his tutelage made it easier to discern whether Aizawa is displeased or satisfied. And his reaction clearly shows the latter.

Then something hit him.

"How did you find this place?"

Aizawa blinks as if he should already know the answer to that question.

"I know you more than you know yourself, kid."

There was a pregnant pause. "You stalker." Todoroki jeered.

He scoffs, "Oh please as if I have the energy capacity to follow you around. And more realistically, if I were to become a stalker, I'd stalk someone who has a life worth stalking."

The writer comically grasps his chest in faux pain.

"Todoroki-kun—Oh," Midoriya bows at the new arrival, Todoroki's eyes widen in terror as he remembers the waiter's presence and how he and Aizawa should never ever meet. But too late, they have already done. "Here's the menu, sir. Please call for me if you're ready to order."

Todoroki already notices the look Aizawa is giving to the waiter. He even notices those squinty eyes glancing at his name tag for a second.

"Midoriya, is it?" He points at the name tag, and Midoriya nods. "So Midoriya, what's the best seller here? Do you have any specific food suggestions that a first-timer like me should try?"

Midoriya looks pleased that his expert opinion is needed. He begins to share his favorite dishes here and the good food and drink combination. Aizawa listens attentively, which is a shocker in itself because that man gets bored rather easily. But Todoroki isn't dumb enough to believe that Aizawa has more level of empathy today than usual, he knows what he's trying to do and it's giving the poor boy a heart attack.

"Has anyone told you," Aizawa leans on the table, casually supporting his chin with his pale hand. "you look like Detective Greene?"

Todoroki chokes at nothing in particular.

Midoriya blinks. "Detective Greene of The Midnight Detective series by Endeavor-sensei?" Aizawa nods. "Well, I've been told by my friends that whenever they read the book, they can't help but imagine me as the main character because of how alike we are." He timidly laughs, a blush painted on his cheeks. "Somehow, I don't know if I should feel embarrassed or flattered to hear such words, especially since I'm also a big fan of the series."

Todoroki tries to hide his smile upon learning this information. He failed.

"It's like you were the inspiration for the character," The editor says.

He chokes again.

"That's stretching it," Midoriya waves his arms in embarrassment. "but I do relate to the character a lot, yet he seems so different at the same time."

"That's interesting. Anyway, my order is…" He diverts to the original topic much to Todoroki's relief.

After Midoriya juts down the additional order, he takes his leave once again. Aizawa looks intensely at Todoroki, and the younger man feels himself cowering. But of course, he doesn't. Instead, he scowls.

"So you go to this Café every day in order to observe this waiter and now used this aforementioned person as writer's fodder and inspiration for your character."

Now, Todoroki cowers.

"Who's the stalker now? You creep."

"You don't understand!" Todoroki shouts. Well, not really. It looks more like he's angrily gritting his teeth while talking in a volume a normal person is expected to speak. But in his normally soft-spoken demeanor, you can consider it as that. "The first time I saw him, it was as if I was hit by my muse. I've never met a person so perfect to be the protagonist of my story, and even if I wanted to create a character far from him, I can't stray away and find myself writing him again."

He gasps, realizing that he's uncharacteristically talkative than usual. He turns his eyes away, his skin the same shade as the darker color of his hair.

"So you go to this Café every day in order to observe this waiter and now used this aforementioned person as writer's fodder and inspiration for your character."

Todoroki doesn't say anything in return, accepting defeat.

"You even name him after Midoriya. Greene? Seriously? You are fucking pathetic." Aizawa shakes his head in disgust. "You should be glad that man is oblivious. If it was any other person, you could be in jail right now."

"I'm still 18."

"There's still juvie, brat." Aizawa points out. "Also, don't worry. I understand what you mean. The last time I felt like that was towards your mother, about 15 years ago."

"Whenever I forget why you hate my old man as much as I do, you never fail to remind me the reason."

"Your mother rejected me long before Todoroki Enji entered the picture." He sighs rather animatedly as if having an internal flashback that the younger Todoroki could never see nor understand. "Don't get the wrong ideas."

Before Todoroki could ask what he meant by that, Aizawa raises his hand in order to catch the attention of one of the female waiters in the establishment. 'Uraraka', as far as his memory serves him, is the name of the girl, he believes.

"Hey, can you tell that Midoriya guy that I'll be taking out my order instead?"

Heterochromatic eyes widen. "You're leaving?"

"Oh no, I just wanted to contribute to plastic waste on Earth. Of course, you idiot, I'm leaving."

Todoroki wanted to ask why, but he already knows the answer to that. Aizawa Shouta, just like him, perhaps even worse, hates the crowd. He wouldn't be caught dead waltzing around in the open unless it was something really important.

And Todoroki Shouto was really important.

Not only to because he's a rising star in the Japanese Literary world, or he's considered as a crowned jewel in the hierarchy of writers in their publishing company, or even because he promised Rei, Todoroki's mother and his former colleague, that he'll watch over him. No, even if Aizawa wouldn't say so himself. Todoroki knows.

Almost immediately, Aizawa's take-out arrives. Uraraka hands him the bill, Aizawa's hand went straight to his pocket, but Todoroki stops him. The young writer takes out his wallet and hands a couple of bucks to the waiter. Neither of them said anything during the interaction, not a 'thanks' from the older man or 'I'll pay for it' from the other. Instead, Aizawa awkwardly pats him on the head, which Todoroki immediately slaps away in annoyance.

They treat each other like family.

The older man accepts his food and stands up. He nods wordlessly at Todoroki, to which he returns. Aizawa turns his back and takes his leave.

"I'll send you the manuscript before this day ends," Todoroki calls out in his retreating form. The man doesn't bother to face him. Instead, he waves his hand in dismissal. In the end, it was as if he didn't actually give a fuck about the draft.

Maybe, he just said that as a reason to visit him.

'I think, Sensei is what you call a tsundere….' He thinks, resuming his work on his writing software.