Chapter Text
Shouta sat, listening to his husband humming gently from the kitchen. The smell of soup, warm and spicy, had settled into every corner of the room. Shouta had to admit that once he’d gotten used to Hizashi’s home cooking, those jelly packs he’d adored didn’t taste quite so good anymore.
The two of them were having a cozy night at home while All Might took the kids to dinner and a movie. Shouta hadn’t exactly jumped at the idea of the retired hero taking his twenty target-students out all by himself, Nemuri had insisted that he and Hizashi take a night to themselves, promising to accompany the group.
Shouta wasn’t about to complain. His husband pressed up beside him, a warm bowl of soup in his lap, and some terrible American movie Hizashi loved playing in the background wasn’t something he was going to pass up so easily.
From the dining room table, Shouta’s phone began to ring, the sound throwing a wrench in the comfortable atmosphere. Shouta didn’t move to answer it. Any calls from Nemuri, or any of the other staff for that matter, had a special ringtone he knew better than to ignore. And besides, the couch was far too soft and warm for him to get up anytime soon.
After a moment, the ringing died down and Shouta burrowed deeper into the blanket. There was a few seconds of blissful silence before the sound of buzzing from the dining room echoed around the room once again. Shouta groaned.
“You should probably take that,” Hizashi suggested, pausing the movie. “I’ll save you a spot until you get back,” he added with a chuckle at his own joke. Shouta rolled his eyes, but heaved himself to his feet anyway. His bones creaked in protest.
“I’m too old for this,” Shouta commented with a grunt. “My old, aching bones are far too weak to make it all the way across the room.” He felt Hizashi’s hand pushing him forwards from the couch.
“Then move it before it goes to voicemail you old man,” he teased. Shouta stuck his tongue out at him before turning his attention to his phone buzzing away on the table. This had better be good.
“Hello?” he said, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
“Mr. Aizawa?” The voice on the other side of the phone was quiet and shaky. Shouta felt his stomach sink, immediately dropping the exasperated tone from his voice.
“Todoroki?” he asked. “Is that you? Is everything okay?” He could hear the crackly sound of wind and the shuddery gasps of his student breathing.
“Can you come pick me up?” Todoroki’s voice sounded tiny. “Please?” Shouta was already gathering his coat.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said. “Are you somewhere safe?” The pause that followed nearly made Shouta’s heart stop.
“Yeah,” Todoroki said at last. “I’m just outside the building.” Shouta breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It didn’t sound like there were any villains, but he didn’t like the idea that his student was alone somewhere.
“Okay, stay put,” he instructed. “I’ll be there soon, just hang in there kid.” He was about to tell his student to stay on the line until he got there when the disconnect tone rang in his ear. Shouta cursed as he slipped on a pair of shoes, hurrying towards the door. Hizashi, who presumably had heard everything, followed him.
“What’s happened?” he asked, worried. “Was there an attack? Do you need me to come?”
“No villains, I don’t think,” Shouta reassured him. “I’m not sure what exactly happened, but Todoroki needs me to go pick him up.” He reached up to kiss Hizashi on the cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back a little bit. You can finish the movie without me.”
“I can wait.” Hizashi’s voice was light, but he still looked concerned . “Call me if you need help with anything,” he called after Shouta as he vanished into the hallway.
Shouta drove, trying to keep the hundreds of doomsday scenarios out of his head. If his students were in any danger, Todoroki would have said so. Besides, he could have expected a call from Nemuri or All Might for backup at the first sign of an attack. He was sure his kids were fine. Shouta was fairly certain that Todoroki had just called him for a personal reason. Despite himself, he hoped that was the case.
When Shouta had first seen Todoroki’s name on his roster those fateful months ago, he hadn’t been quite sure what to think. Todoroki Shouto, the son of Endeavor, in his class. Shouta had worked with the hero enough to know that it was not an experience he was exactly eager to repeat.
The minute he laid eyes on his student, though, Shouta could tell the boy was nothing like his father. He was quiet, that much was certain, but he kept his chin held high and walked with what could have been called confidence. It wouldn’t have been hard to mistake the boy for arrogant, as though his near-royal upbringing had convinced him that his classmates weren’t worth so much as a word out of his mouth.
Shouta knew that wasn’t the case. Aside from the fact that Todoroki hardly ever did anything that could be construed as showing off, Shouta had seen the way he interacted with his classmates, as rare as those occasions were. It was always little things, done silently and easy to ignore if you weren’t looking for them. Every once and a while, he would see Todoroki slip an apple into Midoriya’s backpack when he’d forgotten breakfast or swap books with Yaoyorozu.
No, Todoroki Shouto was nothing like his father.
By the time Shouta arrived at the cinema, the sun had already gone down. He scanned the little concrete patio out front, but there was no sign of his student. Shouta felt his heart quicken, swallowing the concern rising in his throat.
It came as quite the relief when he spotted a tuft of red and white hair poking out from behind a bush off to the side. Shouta jogged over, peering behind the leaves.
Todoroki was sitting on a little curb of concrete, his back pressed against the wall. His head, which had been tucked between the knees he had drawn to his chest, snapped up, eyes wide as he stared at Shouta.
“Woah, hey kid, it’s just me.” Shouta immediately lifted both hands. Todoroki visibly relaxed, but didn’t take his eyes off of his teacher. Shouta knelt down beside him. “It’s just me,” Shouta repeated. “You’re safe. Can you tell me what happened?”
At this, Todoroki immediately dropped his gaze, staring intently at the dirt.
“Okay, that’s alright,” Shouta said. “We can talk about this a little later. Does anyone else know where you are?” Todoroki shook his head, still refusing to meet Shouta’s eye. “Alright, thanks for letting me know,” he said. “I’ll tell Midnight you’re headed back early so she doesn’t come looking for you.” Shouta pulled out his phone.
we herd cats
Shouta: I have located Problem Child #15
YourLocalWineAunt: who?
presentation michael: he means todoroki
Shouta: He wasn’t feeling well so I’m taking him back early, don’t send a search party
YourLocalWineAunt: okie doki :)
Shouta slipped his phone back into his pocket and got to his feet with a stiff groan.
“Alright, kid,” he said. “Ready to go?” Todoroki nodded and Shouta offered a hand to help his student up. Unfortunately, the gesture only resulted in the boy flinching back, hard, and shrinking in on himself once again.
“Sorry,” Todoroki mumbled.
“No apologies necessary,” Shouta replied. “I should have asked first.” To change the subject, he added, “Did you need to get anything from inside before we go?” Todoroki shook his head again, getting to his feet.
“No,” he said quietly. “Can we just go home?” The boy’s voice was so soft Shouta could hardly hear it over the sound of the wind and people walking in and out of the cinema.
“Sure thing,” he said. “C’mon, let’s go to the car.”
The drive back to the dorms had been silent thus far, save for a quiet thank you when Shouta opened the car door for Todoroki. Shouta wasn’t one to shy away from silence, but worry for his student had begun to gnaw at his stomach, even more so than it already had. He glanced back at Todoroki from the rearview mirror. The boy was fiddling with his fingers in the backseat.
“So, do you want to tell me what happened back there?” he asked, hoping he sounded noncommittal. Todoroki just shrugged, still not looking up. “Was it something that happened during the movie?” Shouta offered. Another shrug. “Maybe something you heard or saw? Hero work can be stressful. I know I’ve had to walk out of a movie or two ‘cause I was feeling a bit high strung.”
“It was nothing.” Todoroki’s voice was blunt. “I just wasn’t feeling good.” Then, softer, he added, “Thank you for picking me up. I’m sorry you had to drive all the way here.” Shouta backed off.
“It’s perfectly alright,” he assured the boy. “I gave you guys my number for a reason.” From the backseat, Todoroki made a noise of affirmation but said nothing more.
It wasn’t much longer before the two had made it back to campus, pulling into the parking lot near the dorms. “Do you need anything else?” offered Shouta, turning his key in the lock and opening the door. Todoroki hardly looked up at him
“No thank you, sir,” he mumbled. “I’d just like to go to my room now, if that’s alright?” Shouta nodded. It didn’t sound like he was going to get anything out of the boy right now.
“Sounds like a plan,” he said. “I’ll be upstairs. Feel free to knock on my door if you need anything.” Todoroki dipped his head.
“I will,” he lied. “Thank you sir.,”
“Sure thing,” Shouta sighed after him.
Shouta flopped heavily back onto the couch, kicking his shoes off. Hizashi poked his head in from the other room, green eyes concerned.
“What happened with Todoroki?” he asked. “Is he okay?”
“I don’t know,” Shouta admitted. “He wouldn’t talk to me. He wouldn’t even tell me what happened.” Hizashi sat down beside him on the couch, pressing up against Shouta’s side.
“Sometimes they don’t want to talk,” he agreed. “Do you think it was something with the movie? He might have been embarrassed.” Shouta shook his head.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I just got a bad feeling, you know?” Hizashi nodded solemnly. They both knew what feeling he was referring to. Shouta ran a hand through his hair. “But I just don’t know! God, Zashi, these kids have been through so much. I just can’t tell anymore.”
“I know,” Hizashi said with a sigh. “We’ll just keep an eye on him for now, okay?”
“Yeah,” he muttered.
A part of him was itching to go knock on Todoroki’s door to try just one last time to get him to talk, but he thought the better of it. Prying would only get the kid to close off even more. Shouta sighed, sinking backwards into the soft backing of the couch. There were some things he couldn’t always fight for his kids.