Chapter Text
Shota Aizawa was many things.
For one, he was a hero who had saved more than enough lives for a lifetime, and (by some miracle) still remained in the underground. He was also a teacher at UA that was known for his strict tuition (although lately, he found himself warming up to his current students).
But he was nothing if not observant.
So when he saw one of his most promising students all but zone out during his match, he knew that the kid would need to be talked to afterward.
His quiet and mysterious nature deprived him of significant personal knowledge about the boy. Still, Shota was reasonably confident in two conclusions he had drawn.
First, he was incredibly skilled for his age. There was no way he wasn't given some form of extensive training before he went got into UA. Though being let in on recommendations was already a nod to his student's prowess, the extent of his powers was remarkable. He also possessed unbelievable reasoning abilities, combat intelligence, and technique that would give any hero recognition, let alone a fifteen-year-old boy. Not to mention, the number one hero was his father, one who was clearly very passionate about his son becoming successful.
His second conclusion was that Izuku Midoriya found out something personal about the kid, changing his cold-hearted appearance to a warm one. Though he didn't quite know what the "problem child" had done, this conclusion was actually a rational one. During their fight at the Sports Festival, his two students weren't just fighting. They were talking. He could see them screaming at each other from his seat in the booth, but couldn't quite hear what. Then, for the first time, he had seen Shoto use his fire in an explosive display that quite literally obliterated the stadium. But in his fight with Bakugo, he once again refused to use his flames.
From this, Shota concluded that there was some internal stigma his student held regarding his left side that Midoriya helped him overcome. Even All Might had mentioned that something was weighing on the boy's mind that day. It was evident that the former top hero had his suspicions as to what exactly it was.
Could it have been an unfortunate accident he caused using his quirk? Shota deemed that option to be the most likely.
Regardless, his student was holding himself back, and as his teacher, it was his job to push him forward.
So, after he delivered performance feedback to the last team, he searched for Shoto through the bustling crowd of students and was quick to discover that he was nowhere to be found.
Shota instantly put his guard up and searched the campus with his suspicions on edge. This better not be a villain attack.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a small thud around a nearby wall until he realized that, given the current circumstances, said noise was likely his student.
He hastily rounded the corner and saw a sight he didn't expect to witness.
The kid had his head buried deep into his arms, shaking with every erratic breath he took. More importantly, he was crying.
"Todoroki," he called, trying to get through to his student. "Everything all right there?"
No response.
Shota's fears of a villain attack were assuaged, but that fear was replaced by a gnawing oh shit! brewing in his chest.
Shit. It's some kind of panic attack.
Thankfully, Shota chose to be a hero, and thus, he'd witnessed many situations, even struggling with his own bouts of anxiety from time to time.
But Shoto had handled the USJ, the Hosu incident, the kidnapping at Training Camp, and Kamino Ward incredibly well. To Shota's knowledge, he didn't know of anything else that could've generated this type of reaction. How well did the kid really handle everything?
It could also be an anxiety disorder, but in that case, these episodes would have to happen more frequently. He wouldn't have missed that much, right?
Or, it could have come from the fact that Endeavor had been involved in an intense battle recently. Was this caused by the fear of losing his father?
No, that's not it, Shota thought. Though he didn't know the details, given the few interactions he had seen between the two, they didn't seem particularly close.
Then again, what did he know?
Shota was snapped out of his thoughts by a strangled sob from his student.
Right. Help first, talk later.
"Hey, kid. Deep breaths. In for four, out for four."
Taking a seat on the floor next to his student, he exaggerated his breathing, so to demonstrate. Shoto made an attempt to follow along, and the teacher placed a comforting hand on the back of his neck to support him.
"I-I don't know what's happening," Shoto choked out, before making another attempt at controlling his breathing. He unfolded the arms that supported his head, and his fingers intertwined with his hair, pulling at the mismatched strands.
"You're having a panic attack. Focus on my voice; in for four, out for four."
And slowly but surely, Shoto continued to match his breathing with his teacher's until his own slowed down. His racing heart slowly returned to normal. He relaxed the fingers in his hair and lifted his head up to stare straight ahead, wiping at tears he didn't even realize had rolled down his face.
"Do you know who I am?" Shota asked after a few minutes had gone by.
"You're Aizawa-sensei," Shoto replied, catching his breath after he spoke.
"Good," Shota stated. "Do you know where you are?"
"I'm at," Shoto paused. "I'm at school, right?"
"Yeah," Shota responded. "We just finished training, so I don't think you missed anything."
Recognition blossomed on his student's face as he started to remember what had happened to him, and where he was, and how he failed.
"Sorry for making you wait for me," Shoto said after a pause, sighing as his gaze drifted to stare at his arms.
That was all he had to say?
"Don't apologize. I actually wanted to talk to you anyway."
Shoto stiffened at that.
"You did?"
"Yeah. Are you feeling any better?"
Shoto continued to stare absent-mindedly at his arms.
"A bit." Another pause from the student. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
Shota hesitated but decided that perhaps, his student would appreciate being directness from his teacher, as opposed to beating around the bush until some more conclusions were drawn.
"Well, I noticed you seemed a bit off during the joint training exercises. I was going to ask if you needed more time off from school to be with your family. You've seemed on edge ever since you got back."
Shoto flinched at that. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough for his teacher to notice that he was on the verge of finding out information that he wasn't supposed to know.
And then seemingly out of nowhere, something in his brain clicked. How had he not realized this before?
He was clearly trained extensively as a kid.
He didn't use his fire at the Sports Festival.
His father seemed to be far too passionate about his son's success.
He has poor social skills, doesn't talk about his family often, and his mother isn't listed as an emergency contact.
Something is very wrong with this picture.
"I don't think I need more time off. Really, I'm okay," Shoto remarked, snapping Shota out of his thoughts once again.
As a sickening feeling settled in his stomach, he realized that he had to get the truth out of his student. He didn't know the full story, but the intricate puzzle pieces were starting to fall in place. And the picture they formed, well, it wasn't pretty.
"I believe you," Shota responded. He would have to find out what was going on one way or another, but it had to be done so that he wouldn't scare off his already shaken student. "Did you enjoy the time with your family?"
Shoto remained tense.
"My sister's a good cook, and she made soba for my brother and I. So, I guess I enjoyed it."
"You guess? "
"Well, yeah. I enjoyed it. Can I go inside now?"
Shota sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought.
"Not yet. Look, I don't want to beat around the bush because I don't think that's fair on you, so I'll get straight to the point. I'm a bit concerned about your personal life outside of UA. It's unlike you to be so distracted in the middle of a fight, and it's my job as your teacher to make sure with full certainty that you're safe." Shoto flinched. So his teacher had noticed something.
"So, I have to ask. Is everything okay at home?"
~<3~
The events of the day had wholly taken Shoto by surprise. One second he was standing, faced with nothing more than a bit of distraction. A few moments later, he was doubled over on the floor, convinced that he was going to die right there and then. And now, he was being interrogated by a concerned teacher.
He really wasn't worth all this concern.
Knowing that his teacher's suspicions would only grow if he got up and walked away, he forced himself to give the man some closure so that this conversation could end as quickly as possible, and Shoto could go back to being the strong student that he was supposed to be, not the weak one crying on the floor with his teacher.
Is everything okay at home?
He didn't know what to think. Could he answer that question? Should he answer that question? His father was trying to change, and things were supposed to be getting better. What was the point in talking about it now?
On the other hand, for some strange reason, Shoto found himself trusting his teacher. He didn't want to lie like he usually would. After all, they had all been through so much together, and Shoto would definitely regret being dishonest. It wouldn't feel right to say yes, but it'd feel just as wrong to say no.
After hesitating for a moment, he finally responded.
"I don't know."
Shota sighed. "What's going on?"
Another round of hesitation.
"I don't really know if it's worth talking about. I guess I've been unsure of so much lately."
"Well, talking to someone usually helps resolve issues you can't fix on your own, so let's at least try. Why don't you feel like it's worth talking about?"
Shoto sighed. "I-I don't know. Things are better now, I guess. I just feel conflicted."
"Conflicted about what?" Shota questioned, pressing his student further. The kid didn't seem like he wanted to open up, but at this point, he was suspecting multitudinous terrible things. He couldn't just let him go back inside, not yet.
"Is this conversation going to be confidential?" Shoto asked. Shota's heart lurched, as his earlier suspicions were confirmed, and he prepared himself for the likely conversation which would unearth some disturbing truths about his student.
Something was very, very wrong with this picture.
"That depends. If you're in any immediate danger or are a threat to yourself and others, I'm going to have to talk to administration." Shoto's face contorted at that. "That being said," Shota continued, "I'm not going to tell anyone if they don't absolutely have to know. I want you to trust me; I won't do anything unless it's absolutely necessary, or if you want me to. Sound good?"
Shoto was visibly uncomfortable. His skin was pale, and his body was uncharacteristically shaky, but he knew there was no way for him to get out of this conversation.
"I guess so."
"Alright, then. I'm listening. Talk your heart out."
"It's just, I don't really know what to think about everything or where to even start."
"That's okay. Whenever you're ready."
Shoto hesitated once more. His next words had to be careful. Not enough so to ruin his father's reputation, but not too little so that his teacher would know he was acting deceptively.
A moment passed before he began.
"It's stupid, really. My father's a great hero. He's strong, and he's saved countless lives. But I guess he struggled a lot with maintaining family relations..." Shoto trailed off.
His heart was racing. He was talking to a teacher. Having a personal conversation. About his father. It was too bizarre, but Shoto had already said something. It was too late to stop. He was doing this.
His voice got softer as he continued.
"You know what a...quirk marriage is, right?" He asked, looking at his teacher. His face was calm, but his eyes were riddled with concern, and Shoto came to realize that there was no way for him to work his way out of the conversation. His teacher wouldn't let him go without clear cut answers. And given his teacher's observational skills, those clear cut answers had to be a hundred percent honest, or else he'd only worry his teacher more.
"Yeah, I do."
He wanted to run away, to hide, to forget about it all, but he couldn't. He was stuck.
"Well, you see, even though my father's such a good hero, he's obsessed with success. So, he bought my mother to get his hands on her quirk because he wanted one of his kids to surpass All Might someday."
Shoto took a moment to think. Where did he want to go with this? It was better to be brief, to withhold as much information as possible while still satisfying his teacher.
"He called my siblings failures and didn't pay much attention to them, but he thought my quirk had some potential, so he trained me. I never really talked to my siblings when I was younger, and he was a bit harsh at times, but it made me stronger, so I guess it's-"
"Did you want to be trained by him?" Shota interrupted. He knew that the training was undoubtedly more than "a bit harsh," and the whole picture became clearer with every word out of his student's mouth.
"Well, you see, it's complicated, I guess…"
"I'm going to take that as a no," Shota responded, and Shoto put his head back in his arms with a resigned sigh.
"It was...too much for me sometimes," Shoto confirmed.
"What about your mom? Did she try to help you at all?"
Shoto was taken aback. Though the question came seemingly out of nowhere, he was fairly certain that buried in UA, there was some file of his that showed that his mother was out of the picture. Still, he was surprised by how good the teacher was at getting to the bottom of things, how good he was at finding the information that Shoto was not prepared to disclose. However, slowly but surely, Shoto's will to be secretive eroded at the seams, and he thought that maybe he could just talk a little...
"She tried to help. She's always been a good mother to me, but there wasn't much she could do to stop him. He has money, fame, power, and strength. When she tried to keep him from going too far, sometimes he'd…"
Sometimes he'd hurt her.
He promised he would only tell him a little. As much as necessary. But now, he was going too far. He was talking too much. He wanted to stop oversharing, to stop burdening his teacher with his useless problems. He wasn't worth the trouble.
But he could not. Stop. Talking . He didn't even realize half the words that were coming out of his mouth or the lone tears that fell from his eyes.
"And then she couldn't take it anymore. One day, she completely snapped… and poured boiling water on my face after she called my left side unsightly. It wasn't her fault, I swear, but he'd hurt her, and he'd hurt me, and he'd hurt my siblings. And the worst part is, it was all for nothing because look where I ended up."
Screwing up all the time, like a novice.
Shoto gave a humorless laugh. The whole reason his father created him was to find a successful son. But here he was, failing in a match against high schoolers who weren't trained like he had been.
He was pathetic. He couldn't even protect his own mother, or Natsuo, or Fuyumi, or Toya. Some hero he'd become.
"He's better now, though," he continued. "He says he wants to become a father I can be proud of, and I think I want to see him be that person. But sometimes I'll be going about my day and suddenly remember something he said or did back them. It just throws me off my game, is all. And sometimes…" Shoto paused. He had lost control of himself. He talked too much when he should have kept quiet and reassessed the situation rationally.
Why couldn't he just shut up? Deal with his problems like any other person would? He kept sharing things that were not meant to be shared, saying things that were not meant to be said.
"Sometimes, I can't help but feel like I'm the one that failed him." He laughed dryly. "I spent all this time hating him, but every now and then, I feel like he's the one that should hate me. I was supposed to be his biggest success, but I screwed up in a fights I should be winning by now. I was trained more than they were, but I have nothing to show for it. Iida had to save me in our match."
Shoto turned his head to the sky, resigned and regretful.
"I just can't help but feel like everything that happened is my fault sometimes. It was my quirk that gave my family nothing but pain, and it drove my mother away. And to top it all off, I wasn't even a success. Sometimes I feel like it was my own deficiencies that drove him to be the person that he was. My own deficiencies that drove her crazy. I mean, I'll look at my scar and just think that it's a physical manifestation of my weakness."
Shoto took a deep breath to ground himself. Realizing how much he said, he got up off the ground and made his way inside. He mentally kicked himself. That was too much.
"So there. I talked. I'm going to go inside now."
"Todoroki," Shota said, standing up himself. The boy turned around to face his teacher. "All this shit that you told me. Everything that happened to you and your family." He sighed. "It's not your fault."
"I know that now," Shoto remarked before he looked away solemnly.
"No, you don't. It's not your fault."
"I know."
"It's not your fault."
"I said I know, alright?"
"Listen to me. It's not your fault."
He placed a comforting hand on his student's shoulder, and something in the boy's face changed, his face contorting into one that wore despair and guilt.
"Don't mess with me, Aizawa-sensei, please."
"It's not your fault."
"Just stop it already! Don't mess with me, not you!"
Shoto grabbed his teacher's clothing and shoved him away hard, but the man didn't budge, and the hand on his shoulder remained in place.
"It's not your fault."
And with that, something inside Shoto snapped. He put his head in his hands as a strangled sound of anguish escaped his throat, and tears flowed from his eyes. Soon, he was sobbing into his hands as the memories of all that had happened to him, all the pain, guilt, sadness, and shame flooded back at once and overwhelmed him.
Shota pulled his student in for a hug.
"Oh God," Shoto cried, sobbing into his teacher's scarf. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry!"
He couldn't help but apologize. For pushing him away. For acting like him, even if only for a split second. For trying to hurt the man who was only trying to help.
He let out all the emotions he had so carefully tucked away in the back of his mind, releasing them into the open Earth as fair game.
Yes, Shota was merely his teacher, but he was the best damn father Shoto had ever had.
The stoic expression that guarded fifteen years' worth of despair had been broken. And so, Shota could do nothing but hold him in a fatherly embrace as he cried.
~<3~
Shoto walked back to the dorms.
"You should get some water," Shota said. The younger nodded. They had made their way back in silence, those being the only words exchanged between the two after he had finished crying. Those words, plus a strict agreement that Shota would not take action unless his student wanted him to.
Granted, Shota would be more than happy to give the number one "hero" what he deserved, but Shoto was deadset on seeing Endeavor become a real father to him and his siblings. He didn't want to take that away, and unless he was in any immediate danger (which he wasn't), Shota did not have the jurisdiction to do anything unless he wanted to. So if the kid wanted to take action, he had to be on board with that.
But if he had to sit on his hands and do nothing, he was required to be on board with that, too.
So, two of them made a wordless trek to the dorms and were greeted by a flurry of students from both Class A and Class B.
Shouts of "There you are, Todoroki!" and "We were wondering where you went, man!" filled the room. He smiled and eased the worries of his classmates before grabbing a glass of water like his teacher had asked him to. Once he did that, Shota gave his student's shoulder a comforting squeeze and the two parted ways.
Drinking his water in silence, he thought about all that happened today. He still felt guilty. He still felt angry. He still hated himself. None of that had gone away. But he felt… different. Just like before, he didn't know how to describe the feeling, though this time, the thought was significantly less troubling.
"Oi, Icy-Hot!"
Bakugo?
"What is it?"
"Where the hell were you? Even Deku and I beat ya here, and we were actually doing shit."
"I was...busy. Do you need anything?"
"No, I was just wondering where the hell you were. You fought like shit in your match, so fucking try harder. Don't you dare hold back."
"I wasn't really trying to hold back."
"So then stop being so stuck in your own damn head. You didn't just piss me off. Everyone wanted to know what the fuck was up with you today."
Bakugo looked to the side. "And...I guess I wanted to fucking make sure that you were okay or whatever. Even after the fight, you looked really fucking out of it, and I can't beat the shit out of you fair and square if you're sick or hurt or 'distracted.' So don't do that again, or I'll kill you myself. And don't go thinking that I give a shit about you, either."
Shoto laughed. Those comments would have seemed incredibly rude to anyone else, but to Shoto, those words triggered a warm sensation in his chest. He was concerned. How sweet. His classmate wasn't the best at showing any emotion other than anger, but he contrary to popular belief, Bakugo was a caring person, even if he didn't show it.
Besides, Shoto considered Bakugo to be one of his closest friends.
"I won't," Shoto responded.
"Good. You looked bad today, Icy-Hot. Real bad. And I'm not just talking about your fighting. You just looked like shit."
"I guess I just wasn't feeling my best," Shoto replied. He didn't want to get more people involved in his problems than he already had, even if he was fairly certain Bakugo had figured out what was going on.
Concern flitted over Bakugo's eyes, though only for a split second , before his face reverted back to its habitual rage.
"Then fucking take care of yourself, okay? Don't be an idiot."
He wasn't doing a particularly good job of masking his concern, but Shoto was grateful for his words nonetheless.
"I will."
The two of them smirked at each other, before Bakugo realized what he was doing, changed his expression, and walked away with his hands in his pockets.
Even if the blonde denied it, the two of them were friends, no doubt about it.
As the night continued, both classes engaged in lively banter, hoping to join forces and improve together as one cohesive unit. They exchanged advice and encouragement, but Shoto didn't know where he was supposed to go. His mood had been all over the place today, but he felt his mind take a downward spiral once again.
He remembered Izuku's incredible display of power today. So he was also a dual-wielder, huh? Shoto was supposed to be powerful himself, but Izuku's newly displayed quirk seemed to blow his own out of the water. He felt shame and self-loathing pour into his gut before he realized that he didn't feel like he had to fight so hard to keep from controlling him.
Talking didn't solve all his problems, but it did make him feel less overwhelmed.
One day, he would come to terms with himself.
In the meantime, he would have to keep training to not only keep up with his classmates but to become the hero he wanted to be.
Shoto pulled out his phone and stared at the screen with a tentative glance. He knew what he had to do.
~<3~
"I've been looking for you, Midoriya."
The person in question flinched with recognition, but Shoto continued. "I didn't realize you had two quirks too."
Izuku shifted uncomfortably. "Huh?"
"I was just a little shocked that the guy who screamed at me not to hold back was hiding this all along."
It only made him feel worse. The only reason he won at the Sports Festival was that his opponent pitied him.
For once, he understood why Bakugo had resented him so much after their match.
But, his doubt was soothed as his green-haired friend provided an explanation, and Shoto listened intently.
Oh, right. Come on, Shoto. You're being a bad friend right now.
"Right. Well, that sounds rough. Sorry for doubting you. But it was pretty impressive."
"You too, Todoroki. Your flames… you're really getting the hang of it."
Shoto felt a pang of shame at that. He obviously wasn't getting the hang of it. His father trained him to be powerful and have his fire mastered by now. He shouldn't still be figuring out how to use it.
"No. I still have a long way to go." In more ways than one. "Just like you, I guess. Which is why…" Shoto trailed off and stared at his phone once again. "I need to keep aiming higher."
Looking down at the screen, it displayed the exchanges between himself and Endeavor. There were multiple messages from the number one hero, and just one from his son.
Need you to teach me some things about flashfire .
He never thought he'd be texting him voluntarily, but there he was, communicating with his father for the first time in ages.
But lately, they had all been making some strides in fixing their tattered family relations. Endeavor promised he'd do better. He even talked to Natsuo and Fuyumi again, finally acknowledging them as his children (though Natsuo didn't seem too thrilled about the exchange). And Shoto, he felt more comfortable with his left side, even willingly sending his father a text message.
Things were far from perfect, but at least it was a step in the right direction.
He thought of the fateful battle at the Sports Festival when he used his fire first time, and the conversation he had with his teacher today. Those were also steps in the right direction. Progress.
Sure, he still didn't feel like himself. Guilt and self-loathing continually coursed through his veins. Anger, resentment, all of that was still there.
But for the first time in a while, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could rebuild the fallen house of cards in his mind.
Maybe, just maybe, he'd be okay.