Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was a cold silence that consumed them, as starkly silent as the belly of the tundra in the dead of winter. They sat with varying expressions, but shock, discomfort, and horror seemed to be the most pervasive.

Beside him, All Might sat in a slump, his steepled fingers pressed to his mouth. He stared vacantly ahead while the other teachers digested this news.

"But…" Vlad King frowned deeply, his brow heavily furrowed. "This makes no sense. Endeavor is a hero."

"Heroic deeds do not equate to a heroic person," Aizawa said heavily, drumming his fingers against the table as he stared up at the ceiling. "We've all known Endeavor to be, frankly, prickly, hard to work with, and generally unlikeable."

Mic whistled low, shrinking a bit in his seat. "Well, when you put it like that," Mic said, twirling his finger in the air, "we oughta be judging a lot more heroes a lot more toughly, don't you think?"

"It isn't about our judgement," Midnight said coolly, her body stiff and her jaw tight. She had looked shocked upon hearing the truth, but true to form, she'd steeled up quickly. Now she sat with her spine as straight as a needle and her body a rigid as a board. She glanced around them with narrowed eyes. "We judged wrong. We need to accept that, and try to move forward from there."

"How's that?" Hound Dog scoffed. "He's the number one hero, Midnight! We don't have proof, we can't go to the public about this."

"We should, though," Midnight said.

"Is that wise?" Snipe asked. "We don't know the full story."

"We know enough," Midnight said firmly, leaning back and folding her arms across her chest. "I vote we tell the public. Expose that bastard for what he is."

"He just was released from the hospital," Hound Dog muttered. "And again, no proof!"

"We have the testimonies of three of his children," Midnight said.

"Four if you count the villain," Aizawa said bitterly.

All eyes settled on him. All Might's thin lips got thinner as he shrunk back into his seat, averting his gaze sharply.

"Villain?" Midnight hissed. "What are you saying?"

"You told Young Shouto you wouldn't say anything," All Might murmured.

"I told Todoroki I wouldn't tell his classmates," Aizawa corrected. "However, considering the villain is the one who kidnapped him, I think we all need to be aware of what's going on. If we're not vigilant— if we don't pay attention to that boy right now, we will come to regret it."

"He promised us he wouldn't go after him," All Might said, gaining a bit of confidence as he spoke. "I trust him."

"I don't know if I can trust him," Aizawa sighed, shaking his head. "Not in this. Not when it comes to— to Endeavor, or Dabi, or anything regarding this mess."

"Dabi?" Vlad King asked sharply. He met Aizawa's eye, and Aizawa could almost see his mind working backwards— a microfiche in rewind, stuttering and flickering as words and images blurred. They watched one another until it hit, the night at the camp when that demon of a boy had appeared from blue flames. "That bastard? Are you kidding me?"

"I, personally, would love for it not to be true," Aizawa said dully, "but unfortunately, Todoroki Enji is a monster that breeds monsters."

Beside him, All Might flinched.

"I'm sorry, what?" Midnight blinked rapidly, her eyes darting between Aizawa and Vlad. "Who?"

"Dabi," Aizawa said with a heavy sigh. "He was there during the incident. Looks like he stepped out of the burn ward, if the burn ward was a tent city in Harajuku."

"You're saying that little demon," Vlad said, his fist falling onto the table with a small thud, "he's Endeavor's son?"

"His second son, if I'm remembering correctly," Aizawa said tiredly, "yes."

They all began to chatter among themselves. Those who knew who Dabi looked like described him hastily, and the horror dawned on them all quickly.

"And he became a villain because of Endeavor?" Midnight asked, blinking rapidly. "I just want to clear that up, because if that is not proof—"

"Midnight, you're getting ahead of yourself," Snipe said. "We don't have this Dabi to testify, and regardless, if he is a villain then his word is dirt."

"Todoroki remembers a bit of it," Aizawa said absently.

"No," All Might said firmly. "We will not do that to him."

Aizawa glanced at All Might. In this instance, with the tentative grasp they had on Todoroki, and the severity of Enji… Aizawa couldn't agree. If they wanted to keep Todoroki away from his father, then they would have to act fast with their legal team to find a way to strip Todoroki Enji of his guardian status.

It wasn't that All Might was wrong. It was that he was impractical.

"We promised Todoroki Fuyumi we would keep their father away from him," Aizawa reminded All Might very carefully. "We told her that. We said we'd do whatever we can."

"I do not want to traumatize him even more." All Might frowned at his hands. "I… feel responsible. I feel like I should have noticed something."

"We all should have," Midnight said fervently. "I'm a little disgusted that we've been around him this long, and none of us knew."

"Sometimes you can't know," Aizawa said. "This is not the first time U.A. has dealt with this sort of situation. We will do as we have always done, and we will protect the child at all costs."

"It's different," Vlad said bitterly, "and you know it. That kid? The one with the burns? If Endeavor can do that to his own kid—"

"Allegedly," Hound Dog reminded, looking unhappy, as though he had finally accepted it to be true but realized they were helplessly floundering because of their legal system.

"Whatever." Vlad shook his head furiously. "What did he do to Shouto? The eye? Was that him?"

Aizawa and All Might shared a glance. They had heard the fight between father and son, and the accusation seemed clear enough.

"No," Aizawa said. "Though that is an entirely different set of problems."

"Well," Vlad said, "I think we ought to wait. If we can catch Dabi, we can probably convince him to testify against his father for a commuted sentence."

"I don't think he'd need a reason to testify against him," Aizawa said dryly. "And anyway, Todoroki Shouto might be a legal adult by the time we catch Dabi. The fact that we are even arguing about what to do proves that maybe he knew exactly what he was doing when he decided not to tell us about his father's abuse."

"I agree," Midnight said. "If we don't prove to Todoroki that we care more about his health and safety than we do about some stupid number, that boy will never trust us again."

"Contrary," All Might said, shifting uncomfortably, "I think that is exactly what he expects from us. Nothing."

That sent the cold silence shivering back into the room, like Death crouching in the doorway as a grim reminder of how all at once fallible and utterly responsible they were.

"Then what should we do?" Vlad asked, leaning his forehead against his hand and staring at All Might dazedly. "We don't have Dabi. We don't have evidence, except for the word of a teenager who has, on record, never been Endeavor's biggest fan."

"We have Fuyumi and Natsuo as well," Aizawa reminded him tiredly. He didn't like that he had to spearhead this essential smear campaign against Endeavor. He'd never liked Endeavor, but he'd never had a problem with him either. Aizawa had been plainly indifferent, which was probably why he was the only person here who understood the gravity of what had happened. "Fuyumi is a teacher, and Natsuo is in college. They have no reason to lie about their father, and they're angry."

"I'd like to hear what the sister has to say," Hound Dog said. "This way, we don't have to ask Shouto to remember something traumatizing."

"They were all traumatized," Aizawa said sharply, pulling his phone from his pocket. "But… if it has to be any of them, Fuyumi is the oldest, and I think the most removed from the situation."

They all glanced at one another, and then nodded in agreement. Aizawa sighed, and inwardly prayed for Fuyumi's forgiveness as he dialed her number, put the phone on speaker, and set it down on the table.

It rung twice before a small, frantic female voice answered.

"Hello?" Fuyumi breathed, her voice hushed. "Mr. Aizawa? What's happened?"

Guilt nagged him in a way that sent him slumping in his chair. She had immediately assumed, not without reason, that the only reason he would call her is to inform her of something terrible involving her brother. Remembering how they had all acted at the hospital— how Todoroki had acted merely speaking on the phone with her— Aizawa could tell this would be difficult.

"Nothing, Miss Fuyumi," Aizawa said cautiously, glancing around the table. Not all the teachers were present— just the ones he thought probably needed to know. "I spoke to you before leaving the hospital about preventing your father from further contact with Shouto. We are working on the logistics of it, but as expected, it's… difficult for many teachers and heroes to believe your father to be capable of doing what he did."

Fuyumi was silent for a few moments, and as Aizawa's fellow teachers waited with bated breath, Aizawa closed his eyes. This poor girl. She did not deserve this.

"I see," Fuyumi said, her voice both delicate and cold. "What is it, exactly, that they don't believe? Have they spoken to Shouto?"

"I thought it might be the best course of action to minimize his…" Aizawa sighed, dragging his hand through his hair. "Discomfort. He's a good kid, and he's been through enough."

Fuyumi's silence was much shorter this time.

"Yes," she said. "He is. He's okay, then? He hasn't called me since the— since that night, and I'm getting worried."

"Todoroki is pretty lousy at communication," Aizawa told the young woman as gently as he could. "Please don't take it personally. You are welcome to come visit him, but I wouldn't drown him in messages. From what I've noticed, the more attention he gets, the more he pulls back."

"Oh. Okay, thank you." Fuyumi sounded strained, and mostly confused. "I… didn't know that."

"Isn't he her brother?" Hound Dog wondered aloud.

"Our father kept Shouto away from the rest of us," Fuyumi said, her voice sharper and angrier than Aizawa had ever heard it. "When we were children, we were forbidden from playing with him, and punished when we tried to approach him. Touya was the worst offender on that front, but he always got caught the least."

Aizawa sucked in a deep breath at the mention of Dabi. He did not like hearing anything good about the boy, especially in relation to Todoroki, because that made it exponentially more difficult to rationalize keeping them away from one another.

He would not voice his fear that he thought Dabi might have some influence over Todoroki, but he knew by the end of the meeting that they would all be thinking it.

"Touya?" Mic asked, speaking up for the first time in a while. He had been uncharacteristically silent, his bright and loud demeanor falling away as he sat and stewed in his own thoughts.

"Our brother," Fuyumi explained cautiously. "He's our… he is… was… our second brother. He was born about a year after me, but before Natsuo. He must be about twenty one by now."

"Do you know how he could have become Dabi?" Aizawa asked reluctantly.

Fuyumi sighed on the other line. They listened to her shift, as though she was moving, and for a minute or so, she was silent.

"Shouto said…" Fuyumi trailed off, sounding uncertain. "Please… try to understand… we haven't seen Touya in years. He was supposed to be at school. We didn't even know he'd run away, let alone what dad did to him."

Aizawa sighed. He watched a few of his peers shift uncomfortably at Fuyumi's admission that their father had done something to cause this villain's rise.

"Do you think your father is responsible for Dabi becoming a villain?" Aizawa asked tiredly.

"I haven't seen Touya in years," Fuyumi said sharply. "I don't know what he's like anymore. Our mother is convinced that it's her fault, Shouto and Natsuo think it's our dad's fault, but no one wants to blame Touya for making terrible choices. I don't even know what he looks like now. Mom said he dyed his hair? There are staples? I don't know. If you really want the whole deal on Touya, you are going to have to ask Shouto about it."

"I'm sorry," Aizawa said softly. "I know this is hard, and I don't want to make it harder for you."

"Oh. Yes. I know. I know that. I think…" Fuyumi sighed. "I'm just sad. I don't understand— well, I guess I do understand, knowing Touya, but… he could have come to us. Please don't judge him too harshly, I know what he's done is terrible, and it is his fault for choosing this path, but he's not a psychopath. He's not even cruel. Out of all of us, he was always the one who took responsibility first. It's probably why he got himself into this mess."

"What do you mean?" Vlad asked, blinking rapidly. "What does responsibility have to do with being a murderer?"

"Shouto said that Touya's main target is our father," Fuyumi said simply. "He's just— I'm sorry. I don't know how to explain it. What it was like, living in that house… when we were young, it was always the three of us, and then there was Shouto. It was like we had a ghost living in the walls, and reaching out to him was like making a contract with a demon. We knew he wanted to be with us, but we— whenever we tried, whenever we offered, or tried to help— it ended so badly. I don't know how to explain it, really… Natsuo would know, but he's at school. Touya was always the one to step in if we were in trouble. If Shouto was caught with a cookie that I had given him, Touya said that he had given it to him. If we disrupted a training session because we were too loud, Touya started a fight to make himself louder and more noticeable than the rest of us. He always took the worst of our father's anger. I think he was just wiser than the rest of us."

Aizawa didn't feel as smug as he wanted to be, but he did shoot a pointed glance around the room. They all sat in their discomfort and guilt, and Aizawa thought, good.

"How old was Touya?" All Might asked. "At the time of this… how old were all of you?"

"Huh? Oh. Um… the cookie incident… I must have been eleven? Touya was ten, and Shouto was four."

"Four," Midnight spat, her eyes flashing dangerously toward the phone. "Four years old? And you said he was training? Training for what?"

"To be the number one hero," Fuyumi said blankly. As if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and not completely and utterly disturbing. "I… I have trouble wrapping my head around it now, but Shouto's always been bitter about it. Essentially, we only exist because… well, our father wanted some way to surpass All Might. Me, Natsu, Touya… we're just failed experiments, and our mom was the test subject."

"Oh," Hound Dog said faintly, "what the fuck?"

Aizawa glanced at All Might, who sat stiffly, his eyes very wide as he stared at the table in shock.

"Isn't this what you wanted to know?" Fuyumi asked nervously. "You said you want to know how Touya became… what he is now, I guess. It's more complicated than just the fact that my father burned him."

"Well," Midnight scoffed, "that's just the icing on the cake of this horror story, isn't it?"

"Fuyumi," Aizawa said, shaking his head. "Do you think Dabi would hurt your brother?"

"No," Fuyumi said firmly. "He was always the one who cared the most about what was happening to Shouto. He stepped in more often than the rest of us— probably because he was sneakier, and less scared than Natsu and I. Whatever Touya is doing right now, even all the murder bits… which… I have a hard time believing, even if Shouto said it's true… I think Touya thinks he's doing this for us."

"That's messed up!" Mic gasped, holding his head in dismay.

"Maybe," Fuyumi said softly, "but I would rather believe that my little brother is killing people and destroying things because he, in his own twisted way, loves us, than the alternative. Touya is not a monster. He can't be."

"I think we've heard enough," Vlad whispered.

Aizawa nodded.

"Thank you, Fuyumi," he said, feeling awkward and guilty. "I understand this is difficult for you."

"Just keep Shouto away from my father and brother," Fuyumi said with a force behind her voice that made them all still. "I'm entrusting him to all of you. So please, do your best."

She hung up then, and Aizawa sighed deeply, sliding his phone away with a grimace. This was not going as he'd hoped it would.

They sat in silence once more, soaking in Fuyumi's words and frowning at the table. Aizawa found himself standing, his body heavy, and he bowed his head.

"I need to go check on Eri," he said, gripping the back of his chair. "I think you all need to talk amongst yourselves and figure out what you want to do. You know my feelings on this, but remember that our goal here is to protect Todoroki Shouto."

"Maybe we should ask him, then," Midnight said.

"He doesn't like talking about it," All Might said, "and I'd prefer if we didn't dredge up old memories."

Aizawa shrugged. "Again," he said, "I don't care. Talk it out."

He snatched his phone, stuffed it in his pocket, and promptly left the room.

The problem with this was Endeavor. It was that he was the number one hero now, that he'd been around for so long, that some of them had considered Todoroki Enji to be a friend. All Might certainly had.

They had not really talked about it, but Aizawa knew that his friend was crumbling under the weight of this revelation.

He knew All Might felt increasingly responsible for what had happened to the Todoroki children. The new information that they'd gotten from Fuyumi about their mother being treated like the subject of an experiment had clearly worsened the guilt. Aizawa had been careful not to broach the subject, not even to tell him it was not his fault, because it was not something they knew enough about.

All Might would have to face Todoroki himself if he wanted some sort of absolution. Aizawa knew the boy well enough to know that he'd be shocked and confused at the idea that All Might thought that he was responsible for his father's misdoings.

He had left Togata with Eri because, frankly, Togata was better at entertaining the girl than Aizawa was. Of course he tried his best, but he had never been the best with children. They thought he looked a bit weird and often asked if he was homeless before their parents pulled them away and apologized profusely.

Eri didn't have any prior societal knowledge, so his appearance and demeanor was hardly off-putting. He was thankful for that.

When he reached Eri's room, he pushed the door open heavily, and slumped as he walked in.

He realized immediately that the room was far colder than he left it.

"Aizawa!" Eri cried brightly from her place on the floor, an elaborate crystal crown on her head. "Look! I'm a king!"

Eri was sitting in a makeshift pillow fort held together by spires of ice. On the floor at her feet was a children's picture book, flipped open to a crowned knight on a horse approaching a dark and gloomy castle. Togata was sitting on floor with his hands bound by Eri's colorful pink socks, glitter streaking his face, and a lopsided crystal tiara melting on his head.

No. It was ice too.

Aizawa realized this as he laid eyes on Todoroki, who was sitting on the bed behind Togata. He had marker on his face— green, wobbly shapes stretching unevenly from his scar to his jaw.

"I see," Aizawa said, shrugging off his sweater and tossing it over the nearest chair. "Did you make this fort?"

"Yeah." Eri glanced up at Todoroki curiously. "Me, and Lemillion, and Shouto— we all worked very hard."

"I see." Aizawa walked over to her, and carefully adjusted the crown on her head. It was cold enough that it burned to the touch, but it didn't seem to faze Eri. "Did you let Lemillion and Shouto choose who they were going to be, or did you just claim the king for yourself?"

"Umm…" Eri bowed her head a little guiltily. "I… chose the king."

"I wanted to be the princess!" Togata objected, lifting his bound hands in defiance. "Aizawa-sensei, please! I'm so helpless, I need King Eri to rescue me from this evil dragon!"

Eri's eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly.

"I— I will save you!" she cried, her cheeks puffing out in the oddest look of determination he'd ever seen.

Todoroki glance up from his place on the bed, blinked twice, and then leaned forward.

"Bleh," he said, lifting his left hand to his mouth and let a small pocket of flames burst from his fingertips.

Eri yelped, gripping a nearby pillow and hugging it to her chest.

Togata perked up at the sight of her distress.

"Get 'im, Eri!" he cried. "Knock him out!"

Eri hugged the pillow tight. Todoroki glanced at her, and rather than repeat the motion of causing flames to appear, he settled his hands in his lap.

"Ahh…" Eri squeezed her eyes shut, and she hurled the pillow at Todoroki's face. It smacked him squarely on the nose, and then dropped into his lap.

"Yeah!" Togata cheered. "That's right! Die, dragon!"

"Y-yeah!" Eri opened her eyes, and she puffed out her cheeks once more. "Die, dragon!"

Todoroki stared down at the pillow. He slipped down from the bed as though his bones had turned to rubber, and he collapsed onto the floor.

"I am dead," he said in a deadpan tone. "Bleh."

"Yay!" Togata flung his bound hands into the air, leaping to his feet. "You killed the dragon!"

"Yeah!" Eri gasped, clapping her hands. "I did. I did!"

"Eri saved me!" Togata slipped his hands out of the loosely tied socks, and he plucked her up from her fort and spun her around. "Eri is my hero!"

Eri flushed, fixing her crown as she bowed her head bashfully. Togata bounced her in his left arm, chanting, "My hero, my hero, my hero!"

"Wait," Eri gasped, grasping Togata's cheeks in her small hands and turning it so it faced her. Togata stared at her with big eyes and pinched lips. "Lemillion, wait, Shouta's here now. Who is Shouta going to be?"

"Shouta, Shouto," Togata muttered. "Hmm… how about a wizard?"

"A wizard?" Eri asked faintly. "What's that?"

"Like. I don't know… Gandalf?" Togata frowned. He knelt down on the carpet and plucked up the picture book.

"Gandalf," Aizawa repeated dryly. "You sure you want to make that comparison?"

"Aizawa looks more like a Rogue," Todoroki said, sitting up suddenly. "Or an Assassin."

"Shush!" Togata waved Todoroki off, balancing Eri on his shoulder as he flipped through the book. "Eri doesn't know what those are either, and they're much less fun than a wizard. Don't you want Shouta to be something fun, Eri?"

"I want everyone to be something fun," Eri admitted quietly, tugging at the sleeves of her knit pink sweater. Aizawa had bought it for her the day before, though Togata had nagged him that it was ugly. Eri liked it. "Can Shouto be a good dragon next? A good dragon that only makes ice?"

Aizawa glanced at Todoroki as he sat on the floor. His lips quirked upward in a small, amused smile.

"No more fire," he said. "Got it."

"Aww, where's the fun in that?" Togata asked with a pout. "Who're you gonna save me from?"

"Me," Aizawa said.

Each of them looked up at him with large eyes. Todoroki's gaze was the first to narrow determinedly, clearly remembering his final exam. Togata was next, shifting Eri to his back and holding up his fist.

"He's an evil wizard!" he gasped. "Eri, we have to stop him!"

"What's a wizard?" Eri asked desperately.

Togata very gently set Eri down on the floor. "Like this," he said, pointing to a funny looking, mustachioed man with a long white beard and a staff that glowed on the page of the book.

"Oh," Eri said, picking the book up and frowning at the picture. "That doesn't look like Shouta."

"And I look like a dragon?" Todoroki asked, frowning.

"With the patchy bits," Eri said firmly, "yes."

"Scales," Togata corrected delicately.

"Scales," Eri repeated firmly. She glanced up at Aizawa and she tugged at her sleeves nervously. "Can we… fix that?"

"Oooh yes," Togata said, a devious smile brightening his face. "Shouta would love a snowy white beard."

"There are cotton balls in the bathroom," Todoroki said, popping up to his feet and slipping past Aizawa. "I'll bet if we stick them together—"

"Todoroki Shouto," Togata said, clasping his hands together, "you are a genius. What about a pointy hat?"

"I'm sure Jirou or Tokoyami have a witch's hat lying around," Todoroki said, hanging in the doorway and glancing at Aizawa. "Yeah. I'll be right back."

Aizawa resigned himself to taking care of the ice, which began to melt the moment Todoroki left the room. He busied himself with combing Eri's hair while Togata began to read the rest of the tale aloud.

Todoroki returned not fifteen minutes later, hat and cotton ball beard in hand, and Midoriya Izuku at his side.

"Deku!" Eri gasped, perking up in Aizawa's lap. She glanced up at him inquisitively, and Aizawa set her down gingerly. He was beginning to understand what she wanted with just small glances, which felt odd.

"Eri!" Midoriya beamed at the small girl. "I heard you were playing heroes!"

Eri nodded. She twisted her fingers around one another, her sleeves pooling over her hands. "I'm the king," she said, biting her lip. "My crown melted, though…"

"I've got that," Todoroki said, kneeling down in front of her and tracing the crown of her head with his finger. Crystalized ice sprouted, fitting to her head perfectly, and he looped his finger in the air, creating quick, delicate, yet spontaneously intricate designs that connected at the center with a diamond shaped chunk of ice. Eri blinked rapidly, reached up to touch the crown, and she gasped.

"I'm king again!" she cried.

"Yes," Todoroki agreed, smiling at her gently. "You are."

"Yay." She said this flatly, as if she did not quite know what it meant. "Shouto is the dragon. I killed him!"

"She did," Todoroki told Midoriya matter-of-factly.

"Well," Midoriya said with a laugh, "nobody likes a mean dragon."

"He stole the princess!" Eri pointed to Togata, who sat near the pillow fort with a smile. "Princess Lemillion."

Midoriya's eyes widened, and he laughed brightly.

"No!" he gasped, composing himself quickly. "Not Princess Lemillion!"

"Deku can be your knight, Eri," Togata said.

"Oh?" Eri blinked up at Midoriya curiously. "Do you want to be my knight, Deku?"

"Eri," Midoriya said with the utmost seriousness, "I would love to be your knight."

Eri looked relieved. She nodded, and whirled around to face Aizawa. "We're fighting the evil wizard, Shouta!" she cried, pointing at Aizawa. "Die, wizard!"

"Die, wizard!" Togata cried with just as much passion, while Midoriya stood and stared with a baffled expression.

"Eh?" He blinked rapidly, and he glanced at Todoroki for support.

Todoroki walked up to Aizawa, dropped the witch's hat on his head, and the slapped the cotton ball beard on his face.

"Die, wizard," he deadpanned.

They played like this for about an hour or so. Todoroki, as promised, only used his ice. Midoriya carried Eri on his shoulders as she flung pillows at Aizawa, who made a show of dodging and intercepting them. Togata cheered from his place in the pillow fort, once more tied up with socks.

Eventually, Eri got tired. Aizawa watched her rest her cheek against Midoriya's hair, her eyes growing heavy. Aizawa called time out, and then plucked Eri from Midoriya's shoulders. She settled in his arms, her head drooping against his shoulder comfortably.

"I think it's time for a 'The End,'" Aizawa said quietly.

"And they all lived happily ever after!" Togata piped up.

"Right." Aizawa placed Eri on the bed. He didn't remind her that they would be right outside because, of course, she knew that already. He'd tucked her in enough times that he felt she understood the routine. "Goodnight, Eri."

"N—" Eri yawned, burying her face in her pillow. "Night, Shouta."

They filed out of the room quietly. Aizawa turned off the light and closed the door.

In the hallway, the stood in silence. Todoroki held Eri's crown in his left hand, and he melted it quickly.

"That was fun," Togata said, clapping both Midoriya and Todoroki on the shoulder. "Eri seemed to get along with you well, Todoroki. I'm glad you stopped by!"

"I am too," Todoroki admitted.

Aizawa pried the beard off his face, wincing as the tape snagged on his stubble. He handed the hat back to Midoriya.

"I'm surprised," Aizawa said, blinking down at Todoroki. "I didn't expect you to seek her out."

Todoroki stared at him. His eyes darted away sharply.

"You said we were alike," Todoroki said simply.

"Huh?" Midoriya glanced between Aizawa and Todoroki uncertainly.

Ah, Aizawa thought. So he did not even tell Midoriya what happened that day.

Aizawa was not entirely thrilled about that idea, but he understood it was not his place. He was Todoroki's teacher, not his father. He couldn't overstep his boundaries and tell him that his friends would understand.

"You and Eri?" Togata asked curiously. "How? Uh, not to be rude! It's just, you're not…" Togata shifted from foot to foot. "I don't know. Skittish, or confused. Plus, you smiled a bunch in there!"

"We're alike in a different sense," Todoroki said quickly. "But… I was a lot like that when I was little. Skittish. Confused. Not sure how to smile."

Midoriya stared at Todoroki with an unreadable expression. Then, suddenly, he averted he gaze and frowned at his hands.

"Oh." Togata blinked. He peered at Todoroki curiously. "If that's the case… could you come around more often? I think you made Eri really happy today, and if you can understand her a little better than the rest of us…"

"I'd love to," Todoroki said without hesitation.

Togata grinned. "Amazing!" He caught Todoroki and Midoriya in twin headlocks. "I love you guys!"

Aizawa eyed Todoroki. Todoroki avoided his gaze at all cost.

He let Midoriya and Todoroki go, and he watched them shuffle down the hallway, Midoriya picking up a conversation easily enough and Todoroki nodding as they disappeared around a corner.

Togata smiled after them.

"Do I want to know?" he asked.

Aizawa glanced at him. He shook his head.

"Ah." Togata's smile dampened a bit, and his shoulders slumped. "It's a shame. It does give me hope, though. For Eri."

"Yes," Aizawa said distantly, staring down the hallway. "Me too."

It wasn't that weird, he tried to convince himself. It really wasn't that weird.

A week had gone by, and Todoroki had visited Eri every day. The others were beginning to notice, and often pointed out his absence.

"He must still be recovering from that Nomu attack," Momo sighed, pressing her hand to her cheek in distress. "I can't imagine how he must be feeling. First his dad, and then that? It's awful."

"We should do something to cheer him up!" Kirishima cried, pumping his fist in the air. "We can't just let him wallow in sadness— it's incredibly disrespectful to how tough and manly he is!"

"You and your idea of manliness," Momo muttered, frowning at Kirishima disapprovingly.

Iida cleared his throat, stepping in with a stiff posture and a troubled expression.

"I believe," he said hesitantly, "it is in his best interest, as well as our own, to let him cope with this whole ordeal as he is. All he wanted last time was to be alone, and us crowding him is what got him into trouble."

"Him running away is what got him into trouble!" Momo shook her head furiously. "I don't believe that anyone should have to internalize something like that— getting captured by a villain, and just… not talking about it? Who in their right mind…?"

Half of their eyes trailed toward Bakugou, hesitantly, sharply, and guiltily. Momo's mouth clamped shut. He was lounging on the couch, his feet kicked up on the table, and a scowl set into his mouth like it had been chiseled there.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Bakugou said loudly. "He was fine when they found him. And, don't forget, they found him. Nobody had to fight to get him back! Seems to me like it was some big mix up or mistake."

"That is weird," Uraraka said quietly, glancing around the room worriedly. "Did we even think of that? That Todoroki wasn't the target at all?"

"So the League of Villains attacked and maimed his father, then at the very same time as that was happening, they kidnap Todoroki— but that's all just a coincidence?" Jirou spoke for the first time, and they all glanced at her. She had popped one of her earbuds out, and had been listening to the conversation while lying on the couch across from Bakugou. "I don't know, guys. Sounds unlikely."

"Then why the hell did they just let him go?" Bakugou snapped at her. She was close enough to him that he made a show of lowering his feet back to the floor and physically lurching forward irritably. "Todoroki's powerful as shit. Even when they knew I didn't wanna join them, they were straight up gonna keep me prisoner because they thought I was useful enough for that bullshit. If they got their hands on Todoroki— c'mon. Look at the shithead."

"What are you suggesting?" Iida asked with such a sudden, visceral bite to his voice that Midoriya stepped back. He and Uraraka glanced at each other, her eyes widening in confusion and shock while he felt some bare recognition of this sort of vicious, righteous rage. It felt similar to how Iida had spoken when his brother had gotten hurt. Defensive and, all together, pissed.

"The teachers think there's a traitor," Bakugou said flippantly. "I'm not gonna say it, but someone's gotta open their eyes and look at the big picture."

"That's not true!" Midoriya cried, shock pooling inside his stomach and settling cold as ice. "How can you say that?"

"There's no traitor," Tokoyami said evenly. "Not in this class, anyway."

"Yeah," Uraraka agreed. "We've all been victimized by the villains! Todoroki was kidnapped. Even if he was found safe—"

"We don't even know what that means," Bakugou sneered. "Found safe? What the hell? Where was he found? Why did it take so damn long for somebody to find him if the Nomu just accidentally picked him up and dropped him off? Something smells like shit, and I'm just telling you fucking fools how it is!"

"Todoroki is cool," Kirishima said with a frown. "I don't think he'd betray us."

"That's your opinion," Bakugou muttered. "You like everyone. Of course you don't think so."

"We will not go around pointing fingers at one another like toddlers!" Iida snapped, his voice booming across the room and his anger very much palpable. Everyone was struck silent, staring at Iida with wide eyes and gaping mouths. "If you so much as joke about this traitor nonsense again— especially around Todoroki— then I will personally—"

"Personally what?" Bakugou asked, rising to his feet. "Write me a strongly worded letter?"

"I will personally kick your ass from here to the States," Iida said, his voice going very, very low, and his fists closed at his sides. Midoriya could see them trembling in rage.

"I'd love to see that," Bakugou said snidely.

"Stop it," Midoriya gasped. "All of you! This is stupid. We know Todoroki isn't a traitor, just like we know that Bakugou is trying to get a rise out of us."

"No, I'm a hundred and ten percent serious, Deku," Bakugou said, his usual condescending attitude unusually absent. "It's too weird. There's no way he escaped or was let go by the League of Villains, and you heard Eraserhead when he told us what happened. He was knocked out! He couldn't have fought his way out."

"Kacchan," Midoriya said sharply, "that's enough. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Nobody knows! That's the fucking point!"

"Has anyone thought about just…" Uraraka grimaced, and she shrunk a little guiltily as all eyes slid to her. "Talking to him?"

"We shouldn't have to!" Iida shook his head, and his hand cut through the air emphatically. "No. No, absolutely not. If anyone even implies he might be a traitor, do you know what that would do to him? We're supposed to be his friends!"

"I'm not saying that he is, I'm just—!" Uraraka bit her lip. "It's hard. Bakugou isn't wrong."

"Uraraka…" Midoriya whispered, vaguely horrified.

"No, no!" Uraraka winced. "Please, just listen! We don't know what happened that day, and while I don't think he betrayed us in any way, I do think the more we know the better. In case something like that happens again."

"Ochako is right," Momo said. She had sat down abruptly beside Jirou when the fighting had broken out, and she looked uncomfortably pale and very dazed. "We need to be as prepared as possible for this scenario happening again. Regardless of the— the vitriol that Bakugou is spouting."

"The what?"

"But what if we just ending up hurting him?" Iida asked sharply. "What if our actions cause irreparable damage? We are a class! We are friends. We need to support one another when we are in distress!"

"That's very difficult to do when we don't have all the information," Momo murmured. She slumped, and leaned into Jirou's touch when the girl set her hand on her shoulder. "I just want to help. Todoroki is a very dear friend, and he shouldn't be going through this alone."

"We all want to help," Kirishima said softly, "but I think, in this instance, Iida is the one who's right. Prying into this kinda shit… like, we don't know what's going on in Todoroki's brain, but all of us guessing and theorizin'— we're being bad friends."

"Which is why I said we should ask him," Uraraka said firmly. "He doesn't have to tell us everything, just—"

"You want him to tell us everything," Iida said coolly.

"No!" Uraraka winced. "I— no. Iida, please, you're not understanding."

"I think I got it." Iida scowled.

Midoriya glanced between his two friends, and he felt his heart break in two.

"Stop," Midoriya murmured. "All of you— all of you! Stop debating! Stop speculating! None of us know what happened, and frankly, maybe that's a good thing!"

Kirishima nodded eagerly. Iida looked relieved, his shoulders slumping, and he looked around the room uncertainly.

"If Todoroki wants to talk, then he'll talk," he said. "Until then, I expect all of you will be on your best behavior and not pry into his personal business."

"It's not personal if it affects all of us," Bakugou muttered.

"Bakugou, I swear—" Iida snarled, half marching, half diving forward, his finger jerked at Bakugou's face.

Midoriya moved fast, throwing his arms around Iida's arm— right at the elbow— and pulling him back. Kirishima was right behind him, his arms around Iida's waist, and he yanked Iida away from Bakugou.

Bakugou shot Iida a disgusted look. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

"Pussies," he said, strolling out of the living room. Nobody stopped him.

"Shit," Jirou said, blinking rapidly. "Y'all should have let Iida punch him."

"No," Iida murmured, relaxing a bit as Midoriya and Kirishima led him to a seat. "No, that would have been bad. Thank you both for holding me back."

"He would have deserved it," Kirishima admitted with a shrug. "He had it comin' this time."

"I swear I don't believe it," Uraraka said, sitting down nervously beside Iida. "I just— I feel like we'd all be better off knowing."

"Agreed," Momo said.

"But at what cost?" Iida asked sharply.

They both frowned and looked away.

"I agree with Momo and Ochako," Tsuyu said firmly. She had been quietly watching this exchange from the sidelines. "I don't think Todoroki will particularly care if we pry— he's a pretty understanding person, and he'll understand if we explain it to him."

Iida's jaw clenched. Tsuyu was always the wisest, and Iida knew that. Midoriya glanced down at him, watching him peer thoughtfully at his hands.

"Midoriya," Iida said, his voice strained. "I— I don't want to put you on the spot, but—"

"No, it's okay," Midoriya said quickly. "I'm honestly relieved you're asking me."

"Well, you're the only one who knows where he is right now," Iida said, shooting Midoriya a tight smirk. "I think that says something."

"It's not really a secret," Midoriya said awkwardly, "but I think he'd rather me not tell you guys. It seems kind of personal."

"Doesn't he know he can tell us anything?" Uraraka asked with a face that was a cross between a frown and a pout. "We are all friends."

"Sometimes people internalize their thoughts and feelings," Iida told Uraraka very gently. He patted her on the shoulder, and Midoriya smiled, glad that the fight had been brief. "Especially when they're hard to swallow."

"I know, but…" Uraraka sighed. "I don't know. Maybe I'm selfish, but I just… wish everyone would be honest about how they're feeling. Even if they're scared, or angry, or lonely— isn't it better if we know that, so we can help and support each other? How are we supposed to be heroes if we can't even save each other?"

Her words hit them all like a meteor, and they all sat and stewed in their silence for minutes. It was a hard silence, but no one could come up with a response.

"You're right," Midoriya said.

Uraraka looked up at him with wide eyes. She looked like she was close to tears, so he smiled at her.

"I'm going to go talk to him," he said. "If it goes well, maybe he'll talk to all of you too."

"I'm sorry for throwing you into this," Iida said. He took a deep breath, and his face set determinedly. He shot Midoriya two thumbs up. "Good luck! You can do it."

"Thanks, Iida," Midoriya laughed. He left the room quickly, unable to keep up with their stares.

He was angry with Bakugou for even suggesting that Todoroki could be a traitor. After all that had happened, it seemed cruel.

Then again, Bakugou had no problem with being cruel.

He moved quickly to Eri's room, knocking twice on the door and waiting patiently. The door opened, and Midoriya was not surprised to see that it was Todoroki who opened the door.

"Hey," he said, stepping aside to let Midoriya in. "Eri, look who it is."

Eri's eyes brightened when she saw him.

"Deku!" she cried, clasping her hands together. "We're making music!"

"O-oh?" Midoriya smiled. He saw that Eri was holding an ukulele. Todoroki had a pair of bongo drums that he went back to when Midoriya stepped inside, and Aizawa was sitting in the corner with two bright red maracas in his hands. "How fun, Eri!"

"Yeah," Eri said, nodding. "I wanna be like Jirou!" She strummed the ukulele, and winced as it made a warbling sound. She shrunk a little bit. "I'm not that good yet…"

"You decided to do this because of the school festival?" Midoriya asked curiously.

Eri shook her head. "Shouto suggested it," she said, nodding to Todoroki. "He said music might make me feel better."

"Better?" Midoriya frowned, and he knelt beside her. "Did something happen?"

"No," Eri said, frowning a bit. "I was just crying. I'm better now."

"Why were you crying?" Midoriya gasped, his eyes darting frantically to Todoroki and the Aizawa. They both sat with equally vacant expressions.

"I don't know," Eri said, blinking twice. "I just was. But Shouto said, well, that's okay! Everybody cries sometimes. Even heroes!"

"O-oh…" Midoriya swallowed hard, and he glanced at Todoroki. He did not meet his gaze, and instead looked at Eri. "That's right. Todo— I mean, Shouto told me something similar not too long ago."

"We're making music because Shouto's phone died, but before he was showing me music he likes," she said, strumming the ukulele absently. "Because he said it helps. Right, Shouto?"

"Yeah," Todoroki said.

"What kind of music?" Midoriya asked curiously.

"Mmm…" Eri paused her strumming to tap her chin thoughtfully. "What did you call it, Shouto? Rocking Roll?"

"Rock n' Roll," Todoroki said amusedly. "Kind of like the stuff Jirou does."

"Right!" She began strumming again. "Shouto likes guitars! This is a baby guitar."

"An ukulele," Todoroki corrected.

"An ukalili."

"An ukulele."

"An uk-kah-lay-lie."

"An ukulele."

"An ukulele."

Todoroki smiled at her, and he shot her a thumbs up. She blinked at him, her lips twisting awkwardly as she tried to smile, and she mimicked the motion.

"You don't play any instruments, though," Midoriya whispered to Todoroki confusedly.

He shrugged. "My brother played guitar," he said. "He was good."

"And hearing that music makes you feel good inside," Eri said brightly, holding her hand to her chest. "Like, you're not scared anymore!"

"Right," Todoroki agreed quietly. "Like I'm not scared anymore."

Midoriya watched him, and he considered that he had made the wrong choice. He should have gone with his gut decision, to simply leave Todoroki alone and let him have his secrets and sadness.

But that wouldn't work forever.

"Todoroki," Midoriya said softly, "can I speak to you?"

Todoroki tipped the drums from side to side. Eri watched them both with furrowing eyebrows, and Aizawa stood up, striding forward and sitting beside her.

"Here," he said, shaking his maracas twice. "Let's try again."

Eri glanced at him. "Oh," she said. "Okay."

Todoroki stood up, never giving Midoriya an answer, and left the room. Midoriya followed reluctantly.

They walked down the hall in silence. Todoroki folded his arms across his chest and stared at the wall as they slowed to a stop.

"I know you have a theory," Todoroki said flatly. "You always do."

"Like your theory that All Might was my dad?" Midoriya snorted.

Todoroki glanced at him. He gave him a once over, and he shrugged.

"I'm still not convinced," he said. Then he grinned. Midoriya couldn't help but smile back, if not a little sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," he confessed, leaning back against the wall and slouching a bit. "I didn't mean to cut into your time with Eri, but… everyone's getting worried."

"What?" Todoroki blinked. "Why?"

"Because…" Midoriya took a deep breath, and he launched right in, gesticulating wildly. "Every since you came back, you've been acting really distant and off, and when you started disappearing everyday everyone started to notice, and now everyone's confused and worried that you had a horrible experience with the villains when you were kidnapped, or you can't face what happened to your dad, or both, and the fact that you're not talking to anyone has just got everyone even more scared, which is understandable I guess, but no one wanted to take into account how you were feeling about your privacy being totally breached by all of our stupid guessing, except Iida, who almost punched Bakugou—"

"Did he?" Todoroki looked pensive. "I think I would pay my entire inheritance to see that."

"Not the point, but— okay. Fair." Midoriya sucked in another deep breath, and he deflated a bit as Todoroki stared at him. "They're worried. I'm worried."

"Oh. Sorry." He frowned, and then winced. "Thanks?"

"For— for worrying?"

"Um…"

"Todoroki," Midoriya said softly, "what happened?"

Todoroki's face pinched in a peculiar way, like a bad aftertaste had hit him.

"It's nothing," he said.

"Getting kidnapped isn't nothing," Midoriya insisted. "You're not Bakugou. I know you feel pretty deeply, but the difference is that you internalize it instead of externalizing it. So please, talk to me."

Todoroki glanced down the hall. He slumped a little bit. "I don't know if I'm allowed to say anything," he admitted.

"What?" Midoriya's eyes widened. He followed Todoroki's gaze, and surmised he was glancing at Eri's door. "The teachers? Why would they put a gag on you?"

"It's… complicated." Todoroki shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing bad happened, Midoriya. Isn't that enough?"

"Not if you're hurting," Midoriya said firmly. "You tell Eri more about your feelings than you tell us. Sometimes you just have to trust your friends, and let us bear the burden a little bit!"

Todoroki shook his head furiously. "Trust me, you don't want to know everything," he said bitterly. "It'll… just make things difficult."

"What things?" Midoriya asked desperately. "What can I do to help?"

"That's just the thing," Todoroki said sharply, "you always want to help. You helping in this situation will only make things worse."

Midoriya leaned back. He stared at Todoroki in the face, and he shook his head very slowly.

"It's not about me, Todoroki," he said. "It's not about what I'll do. It's about you. It's about how you feel."

"I don't know how I feel," Todoroki said absently, "and even if I did, it doesn't change anything. I really don't know what I'm allowed to tell you."

Midoriya stared at Todoroki for a few moments. He had to think very quickly.

"If I guess," he said, "will you tell me if I'm right?"

It only took a few moments of hazy incredulity before Todoroki nodded.

"Okay," Midoriya breathed. He ponded for a moment, thinking back on Eri, thinking back on how Todoroki had acted that day, thinking back on the Sports Festival and all the things left unsaid, and thinking that maybe he was in over his head. "So… I think… that your dad has hurt you."

Todoroki stared at him blankly. Mutely, he nodded.

Shit, Midoriya thought, his unable to help the desperate twist of his lips as he stuffed down the need to hug his friend. Todoroki saw this motion, and he looked away. What do I say? What do I do?

It didn't matter, he realized. The brunt of it had already happened, and in his heart, Midoriya felt like he'd known that for a long time.

"It was probably when you were a child," Midoriya said cautiously, hating himself for suggesting this idea, "about Eri's age? I won't guess what he did to you, but I'm sure… in his own messed up way… he probably thought he was helping you."

Todoroki's eyes narrowed. Once more, he nodded.

"That's why you acted the way you did when he got hurt," Midoriya continued thoughtfully, realizing just how much of it made sense as he spoke. "You were upset because you didn't… you didn't care like everyone expected you to. Todoroki, you know that it's okay, right? If he hurt you, you—" Midoriya took a deep breath, and he straightened up. "You don't need to care about him. He doesn't deserve it!"

Todoroki stared at him, and his mouth opened and then closed. He leaned back against the far wall, and he looked away.

"You sound like Natsuo," he said vacantly.

"Huh?" Midoriya blinked rapidly. "Who's that?"

"My brother."

"Oh." Midoriya had not known Todoroki had a brother. "Well, good. Your brother must be smart." Then he thought for a moment, and his eyes widened in horror. "Did he hurt your siblings too?"

"Yeah. My mom too." Todoroki leaned heavily against the wall. Then, tiredly, he slid down it and crouched on the floor, staring at the pattern of the tile dazedly. "I don't remember most of that, thank god, but… sometimes I get flashes. Like, just snippets of a memory. And I wonder…"

Midoriya's mouth was dry. Todoroki's eyes were far away, but wide enough that the whites were visible. He crossed from one wall to the other, and sat down heavily beside Todoroki.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be." Todoroki dropped from his crouch and let his hands hang between his knees. "It's nobody's fault but his. I'm going to become a hero, and I'm doing it without his influence to hold me back. I don't care about him at all."

Midoriya studied his face. "Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Todoroki said venomously. "I'm sure. That bastard… he's done more irreparable damage to the people I love than any villain could. For that alone, he's dead to me."

"Well…" Midoriya shifted a little uncomfortably but nodded nonetheless. "That's good. Not good good, I mean… you know, it sucks, and if I ever see him again, I'm gonna have some strong words."

"I'm sure that will work out well," Todoroki said. He was smiling, though.

"That's why you connected with Eri so quickly," Midoriya realized, resting his head back against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. "Oh. The music. Does that help you, when you're…?"

"Having a slight episode?" Todoroki smirked. "Yeah. My brother— not Natsu, my other brother— he played guitar a lot. I forgot about it until recently, so I guess… it's been calming me down, being able to think about my childhood and not automatically feeling angry or sick."

"What are your brothers doing?" Midoriya asked curiously.

Todoroki's smirk dropped. His fingers twisted nervously.

"Natsuo's in college," he said. "You'd like him. He's stupid too."

"What? Hey!"

"In the best way," Todoroki amended. "Stubbornly stupid. Heroically stupid."

"Come on," Midoriya said sheepishly, "we're supposed to be heroes. If that's your definition of stupid, we're all dumb!"

"Maybe."

"And the other brother?" Midoriya asked curiously.

Todoroki's lips pressed into a thin line.

"He's… away," he said.

Midoriya gathered that probably meant he didn't want to talk about it.

"Well," Midoriya sighed, sprawling his legs in relief. "I'm glad I know, at least. It explains a lot."

"Uh…?" Todoroki glanced down at him. "Thanks?"

"I just mean in the last few weeks," Midoriya explained quickly. "Not…"

Todoroki smiled. "I know," he said, nudging Midoriya playfully. "I'm teasing."

"Ooh…"

Todoroki played with the sleeve of his turtleneck. He fiddled with it, pulling it over his hands, like Eri liked to.

"If I tell you a secret," he said quietly, "do you promise to tell no one?"

Midoriya stared at him. He glanced around the hall quickly, deduced that no one was nearby, and then nodded.

Todoroki stared at his hands. Then he opened his mouth, and let it hang open for a few moments.

"Todoroki."

Both of them jumped to their feet. Midoriya grabbed Todoroki instinctively by the arm, hovering close to him as they whirled around to face Aizawa.

Their teacher watched them both, his tired eyes lined with dark circles and his lips stretched into a thin line.

"I didn't say anything," Todoroki said defensively.

"No," Aizawa sighed, "but I know you were going to."

"It's not his fault," Midoriya objected. "I asked. I was pestering him about it. It's not his fault at all, and really, he shouldn't be forced to keep things that are hurting him a secret!"

Todoroki's eyes widened as he looked at Midoriya. Midoriya could see this out of the corner of his eye, but he knew he had to face forward and look at Aizawa as he fought him on this.

Aizawa stared. He rolled his eyes, and he shook his head.

"You kids," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "Okay then. Todoroki, you really want Midoriya to know?"

"Yes," Todoroki said firmly.

"Are you sure?" Aizawa glanced at Midoriya with a frown. "You know how he gets when he's on a mission."

"It's my mission, not Midoriya's," Todoroki said. Then, for a moment, he seemed to think on it. "That doesn't mean I don't need support. If I can't tell anyone else, then I'd rather it be Midoriya. He'll get it."

Aizawa shrugged. He led them to the nearest empty room, which was most of the dorms on this strip of hallway, and closed the door behind them. He glanced at Todoroki.

"How much have you told him?" he asked.

"He figured out the stuff about my dad," Todoroki said, sitting down on the desk and looking at the built in corkboard with a dull gaze. "But, otherwise… nothing."

Aizawa leaned heavily against the door, and he folded his arms across his chest.

"Do you want me to say it, or do you want to?" Aizawa asked Todoroki very gently.

Midoriya glanced between them, and he felt suddenly very aware of the gravity of this situation as Todoroki shrunk into himself, his arms folding over his stomach like he might double over and vomit.

He couldn't tell anyone. That was the truth of it.

"Is it that bad?" Midoriya whispered.

Todoroki glanced at him. For the first time Midoriya saw just how tired his eyes were.

"When I was ten," Todoroki said, his voice carefully devoid of all emotion, like he'd cut it out of himself with scissors and left only a robotic, flat tone, "my father wanted me to do something, and I— me, being me, I didn't listen. It was my fault, but…"

"It was not your fault," Midoriya cut in sharply. "You— you can't think like that! You can't look back on those things and believe that you were the one who was wrong when your dad— a hero—" Midoriya felt the word choke inside his throat, and he closed his eyes. "It's horrible. It's disgusting."

"It gets worse," Aizawa said bitterly.

Midoriya sunk very slowly onto the spare mattress and stared at Todoroki mutely.

"I ended up unconscious," Todoroki said, anger creeping into his tone. "I— I won't tell you the whole story. It's long and complicated. But, essentially, my older brother Touya came home while this was happening, got into a fight with my dad, and ended up getting burned. Badly."

"What?" Midoriya choked.

He tried to imagine it— his own father using his quirk against him. And the blinding pain of being set on fire… Midoriya had hurt himself enough times to know pain pretty intimately, but being burned alive was a whole other type of demon that he didn't think he wanted to get acquainted with.

Todoroki watched Midoriya react. His brow furrowed uncertainly, and he looked to Aizawa for support.

"Midoriya," Aizawa said, "do you remember the villain, Dabi?"

"Dabi…?" Midoriya tried to think on it. The name sounded only vaguely familiar, like he'd heard it shouted by some villain or another during the firefight, but all the noise and the pain and the panic had made the memory hazy. "I'm not sure."

"He has an absurdly powerful fire quirk," Todoroki said, rubbing his hands together. Midoriya could hear the calluses on his palms scratching. "The fire is blue."

"Oh!" Midoriya nodded quickly. "Him! Yeah, I remember him."

Aizawa glanced at Todoroki. Todoroki glanced at Aizawa.

Then, heavily, Todoroki sighed.

"Dabi is my brother, Touya," he said quietly.

Midoriya bit his tongue to keep from exclaiming something. He knew he'd regret it, whatever he did, so he kept quiet and let Todoroki's words full digest in his head and slowly make its way down to his heart where they settled and transformed into confusion and anger and grief for Todoroki. He was so sad and he couldn't say why.

"Oh," Midoriya said faintly. "I see." He looked at Todoroki, watching his face very carefully. He looked wan and weathered, like he might just fade into the wallpaper. "Todoroki… your brother— your father— none of that is your fault… or even your responsibility."

Todoroki shook his head furiously.

"Dabi kidnapped me, Midoriya," Todoroki said. "Dabi sent the Nomus. He tried to kill our father, and if I'm honest, I don't even blame him for that. I told him that much. God, I don't even hate Dabi for any of it."

"He's your brother," Midoriya said softly.

"He's a killer," Todoroki spat. "I've been following the news. I've been tracking the unsolved arson cases, and it's only getting worse."

"Have you been sleeping?" Aizawa asked suddenly.

Todoroki shrunk back. His body seemed smaller than usual, like it could fold into itself and become compact and transportable.

"Todoroki," Aizawa said sharply. "You can't give Eri advice and then not follow it yourself."

"I'm fine," Todoroki insisted. "Eri doesn't even know what a dandelion is. She doesn't know what stars are. She doesn't know about shaved ice, or football, or cookies. My childhood was hell, but at least I wasn't alone. Not really. She was." Todoroki looked up at Aizawa, and he leaned forward. "I won't pretend like I had it worse. Not with her."

"It's not a matter of who had it worse," Aizawa said, his voice softening. "It's a matter of taking care of yourself. If you blame yourself for what happened to Dabi—"

"It was my fault," Todoroki said simply.

"You can't keep saying that," Aizawa sighed. "It's not true. You know that your father is the one who was at fault.

"My father was a loose cannon, but my siblings were never the real targets. They only got hurt when they tried to help me." Todoroki's face crumpled, and for a moment Midoriya thought he might begin to cry. "That— that's the worst part."

"Todoroki," Midoriya said softly, leaning forward as though to move closer to him, but reeling himself in quickly. "This is not your fault, or your responsibility. Nothing you did caused this."

"He was trying to help me," Todoroki said bitterly. "He was always trying to help me. I never knew him to be cruel, or angry. Midoriya— imagine if I disappeared for five years without a word, and when I came back I was unrecognizable. I look like a zombie, or Frankenstein's monster, and— I've hurt so many people. And I admit I don't regret that at all. And you just have to sit there and listen to it, like you don't know better than that?" Todoroki's lips twisted, and he looked for a moment truly pained. When he spoke again, his voice shook. "What the fuck do you do when you love someone who does terrible things and you hate someone who does wonderful things?"

Midoriya couldn't help himself. He lurched forward, crossing the room and sitting down on the desk beside Todoroki. He wrapped his arm around his shoulders, which jerked a little under the weight at first, and then slumped as Midoriya pulled him in a hug. For a few moments, Todoroki stared ahead of him blankly. Then his lower lip trembled.

"It's okay to cry," Midoriya said softly, meeting Todoroki's eye. They were red and glistening. "Even heroes need to cry sometimes, right?"

Todoroki's lips pulled back, stretching into a grimace. He blinked rapidly, and then lowered his face into his hands.

Midoriya rubbed small, soothing circles into Todoroki's back as cried silently. His body shook every now and again, and sometimes Midoriya even heard a muffled, choked out whimper, but ultimately Todoroki cried in silence.

Aizawa watched this exchange with a frown. After a few minutes, with Todoroki still doubled over in grief, Midoriya finally met Aizawa's eye. He jerked his chin toward the door, a mute suggestion that he could handle it from here.

When Midoriya shook his head fiercely, Aizawa's eyes narrowed.

"I think it's time you headed to bed, Midoriya," Aizawa said firmly. "I can take over from here."

Midoriya's jaw clenched. He didn't like the idea of disobeying a teacher, but he liked the idea of abandoning Todoroki in this state even less. He hovered close to Todoroki, his hand still on his back.

"Todoroki?" he asked gently, leaning forward.

Todoroki gave a small, wet chuckle as he dragged one hand from his face. He sniffled, and waved Midoriya off, his head still buried in his other hand.

"Go," he said thickly, his voice reedy and wavering. "I'm fine."

Midoriya did not believe that. He stared at Todoroki helplessly, like maybe a look or a smile could make all of the pain and trauma that Midoriya could scarcely understand all better. He wanted to stay by Todoroki's side until he was himself again, or at least until he said he felt like himself, and that was all that mattered, wasn't it? Wasn't the point of being friends, of being heroes, to be kind and sympathetic when faced with horrific circumstances? Wasn't the point to be there when nobody else was— to be that smiling face, that anchor in a raging sea, that trickle of sunlight cutting through the wall of dark storm clouds?

Aizawa asking him to leave was like asking him to stick his head under water and count to a thousand.

"I don't—" Midoriya objected.

"Go," Todoroki gasped, his one eye becoming visible as he glanced at Midoriya sharply. It was his scarred eye, and it was puffy and glazed, bloodshot and teaming with tears.

Just then, Midoriya thought he might start crying too. The only think that saved him from the onslaught of tears was Aizawa's hand falling onto his shoulder, and his kind eyes shooting him a reassuring glance.

Midoriya sucked in a deep breath. He nodded silently, and took a step back. Then another. He left the room silently, his throat tight and his vision misty, and he walked in a daze back to the dorms.

The common area was full, and they were buzzing until he walked in. A hush settled over the room, and he stood there for a moment, blinking back tears.

"Deku?" Uraraka asked worriedly.

Midoriya glanced at her, and he tried to pull himself together quickly. He smiled, but it was too tight and too forced, and he dashed the wetness beneath his eyes with his fingers.

"Hi, Uraraka," he said. His voice sounded thin, dull, and overused.

"Dude," Kirishima gasped, leaning over the couch. "What happened?"

Midoriya shook his head. He just wanted to go lie down on his bed and try to puzzle out how a person— a hero— could hurt and even permanently maim their own children, and still think they deserved to be called heroic.

Suddenly, inexplicably, Midoriya thought he understood Stain.

The thought made him recoil so violently that everyone uttered his name at once, and he clamped his hands over his ears.

"Sorry!" he gasped, shrinking a little. "I'm sorry. I'm fine, I swear!"

"You were crying," Uraraka pointed out softly. She toyed with the hem of her shirt nervously as she approached him. "Deku… what happened between you and Todoroki?"

They all stared at him expectantly. All of them except Iida, who sat silently in the corner, glancing at the scene before him miserably. Midoriya met his eye, and Iida stared for a moment before turning his face away.

Midoriya sucked in a deep breath.

"Everyone," he said sharply, "sit down. Now."

That seemed to shock them. Uraraka stared at him, but obliged without thinking much of it. Kirishima had dropped into a seat without question. Jirou stood back, not listening. Kaminari sat down on the floor beside her. Soon, mostly everyone was sitting, save for those who were not in the common area— Bakugou was noticeably absent, as was Tokoyami, Mineta, and Sato. Jirou and Shoji decided to stand.

Glancing back at the door, and figuring that whatever Aizawa had to say to Todoroki, it would at least take a few minutes.

"Okay," he said, taking a deep breath. "Okay. First of all, Todoroki is our friend, and he's— he doesn't show it much, because I think bottling things up is the only way of coping he knows, but he's hurting a lot. So shame on us for never noticing."

"We did notice," Uraraka gasped, looking shocked and upset. "That's the point, isn't it? We're all worried!"

"I noticed a really long time ago," Midoriya said, guilt worming its way into his stomach. "The first time I noticed something was wrong was the Sports Festival, and I— I did nothing."

"No you didn't," Iida and Uraraka said in unison, Iida's voice sharp and forceful while Uraraka's was desperate and scandalized.

"Deku!" Uraraka gasped. "You tried so hard to help Todoroki during the Sports Festival!"

"Yeah, he didn't even deserve it much back then," Sero admitted, scratching his cheek sheepishly.

"And look how much he's opened up since then!" Momo clasped her hands together, her chin tipping upwards. "The fact that he told you anything is very telling. He never tells me things about his personal life."

"He has a good reason for that," Midoriya sighed, ruffling his hair. "Um… okay. I can't tell you what happened, exactly, because it's not my story to tell. If he wants to say anything to you guys, he will, but…" He glanced at Iida, who had leapt to his feet at some point. "I think Iida was right. We should have just let Todoroki be."

Uraraka looked down at her hands guiltily. She shook her head.

"I don't need to know what happened," she said softly. "I— I just want to know— I need to know that you knowing now— will it help him at all? Do you think?"

Midoriya blinked. He hadn't thought about it much, but… if Todoroki had been keeping it a secret for so long, and no one else really knew but the teachers…

"I think so," he told Uraraka with a small smile.

She exhaled. The whole room seemed to relax a bit.

"Good," she said firmly. "Then it's our job to protect both of you."

"Protect us?" Midoriya echoed confusedly. "From what?"

"From being sad and lonesome," Uraraka said, blinking at him incredulously. "It's… okay if you can't tell us now. But, I think… I think I can speak for all of us…" She gestured around the room vaguely. "… when I say that we're here for you both. No matter what."

Midoriya stared at her. He realized he was crying again.

"Deku…" Uraraka gasped.

Iida was at Midoriya's side in a second, his arms crushing him.

"What was it you said before, Uraraka?" Iida asked as Midoriya blinked dazedly ahead of him. "We all need to save each other?"

"Ah!" Uraraka jumped to her feet. "That's right!"

"Ooh," Tsuyu said, tapping her chin as she stood up, following Uraraka. "I see."

"Everyone save Midoriya!" Kirishima cried, vaulting over the couch and jumping on Midoriya's back.

"Wha—?" Midoriya choked, already half-buried beneath the weight of his classmates as they dogpiled on top of him.

The moment Midoriya left, Todoroki sunk to the floor and buried his face in his knees. He didn't know how long he sat there, his trousers growing damp from the flood of tears that graced his face, leaving trails down his cheek— one cold and thickly streaming and one warm and dissolving quickly into his skin.

Aizawa sat beside him at a careful distance and waited patiently for Todoroki to calm down. In those moments between Midoriya's disappearance and when the hiccups started, Todoroki felt like he had blacked out from how dizzy and dazed he felt. His chest was tight, and he was out of breath. A headache pounded behind his eyes.

Some people said that crying was supposed to be cathartic, like releasing your inner demons.

Todoroki just felt like instead of buried deep inside his heart, locked beneath layers of concrete and stuffed inside a meat locker, all his demons had been regurgitated, sitting fat and happy on his chest and dragging their ugly talons behind the hollows of his eye, scraping the back of the bridge of his nose, and toiling inside his brain.

"I'm sorry," Todoroki whispered, staring at his wet hands dazedly. "I didn't mean to— to have an episode."

"Todoroki," Aizawa said, staring at him with the utmost concern and the most genuine sort of loss. "The fact that this didn't happen much, much earlier is shocking. I've been waiting for it since we got back from the hospital."

"What?" Todoroki asked confusedly.

Aizawa sighed. He leaned back against the desk, and he frowned at the ceiling.

"You're a good kid," he said. He sounded nonchalant, but as Todoroki slouched and hiccupped quietly, he could tell that Aizawa was pretty riled up. "You won't tell us the specifics of what your father did to you, but you probably should have been going to therapy by now."

"I'm not crazy," Todoroki objected, flinching at the suggestion.

Aizawa glanced down at him, and his expression was much softer than expected.

"That's not what I'm saying," he said gently. "Don't misunderstand me. I think, from what you've said to Eri— and I'm no psychologist, so take my word with a grain of salt, alright? But I think you could be suppressing a lot of stuff, and maybe even have some sort of undiagnosed PTS."

"Suppressed…?" Todoroki frowned. He didn't want to say that he thought that was obvious, and that he had suppressed a lot of it intentionally. "Why the hell would I want to bring it all up, if that's the case? Isn't it better if I just…" Todoroki stared at his hands, which were still damp. "Lock it away and forget about it?"

"You think that'll solve anything?" Aizawa scoffed.

Todoroki frowned. He hiccupped, and he rested his chin on his knees.

"I think if I lock all my unwanted feelings in a box," he said dully, "and I put that box on the top shelf of my mind, and I let myself forget about it— maybe then, in a few years, I can open that box up again and it won't be so scary."

"What about the feelings you put into a box years ago?" Aizawa asked gently. "If it's how you say, can't you unbox those feelings now?"

"No," Todoroki said, wincing at how pathetic and small he sounded.

Aizawa nodded. He sat there for a few moments, not saying anything, and Todoroki found himself trying to make himself smaller in spite of himself. He wanted to melt into the carpet and dissolve there.

"I can't make you do anything," Aizawa said finally, "but if it makes you feel better, I go to therapy."

Todoroki glanced at him sharply. "You do?" he asked hesitantly. Then he frowned, turning his face away as he hiccupped. "Physical therapy doesn't count."

"I'm still your teacher, so don't get cheeky on me," Aizawa muttered, shooting Todoroki a dull glance. "I'm serious. Once a week, every week."

Todoroki turned back to Aizawa and stared at him for a moment. "Why?" he asked softly. "There's… there's nothing wrong with you."

"Do you think there's something wrong with your mother?" Aizawa asked sharply.

"What? No!"

"Then think for a second and ask me the right question," Aizawa said, resting his hands on his knees and straightening up. "I'll wait."

Todoroki closed his eyes, feeling foolish for opening his mouth, and he wondered how he could get out of this.

"I… I guess…" Todoroki squinted up at Aizawa. "Does it… help?"

Aizawa cracked a smile. It looked odd on his face, but not as creepy and unwelcome as Todoroki expected.

"There we go," he said. "Yeah. It does."

"Oh. Okay." Todoroki stared at his feet. "Um… maybe, then."

"Maybe is good," Aizawa said. He stood up, stretching his arms over his head and shrugging. "I won't force you. If you really are so against it, I'll never mention it again. But you're so good with Eri— I think it would benefit both of you if you have a better understanding of what happened to you."

"Does Eri go to therapy?" he asked with a frown.

"Yes." Aizawa raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I'd be allowed to keep her if not. And trust me, they made a big deal about my mental health before they signed Eri off to me. All Might had to cosign, and my therapist, to prove I'm mentally fit. Which, I mean—" Aizawa frowned, as though he realized he was speaking to a student. "I am a teacher. Of course I can take care of kids. I might not be the best at it, but damn it if I'm not going to try."

Todoroki blinked up at Aizawa, and he shot the man a weak smile.

"You're not so bad at it," he said quietly.

Aizawa stared at him. He scoffed, and he hid a smile behind his scarf.

"Maybe you are crazy, kid," he said. He offered a hand, and Todoroki took it gratefully, allowing himself to be tugged to his feet. "Did I ever apologize for your shoulder? Sorry about that?"

"It wasn't that bad," Todoroki said, flexing his shoulder thoughtfully. "Dabi popped it back in easily enough, so it must have been a pretty clean injury."

That only made Aizawa frown.

It was then that they heard a soft whimpering sound coming from the other side of the door. They glanced at one another in dull shock before lurching forward. Aizawa threw the door open, and they both spilled out into the hallway, their eyes darting around wildly.

"Eri," Aizawa gasped, meeting the little girl in three steps and dropping down to his knees before her. She was standing in her pajamas, her face streaked with tears and her eyes glazed over. She stood there mutely as Aizawa calmly asked her what was wrong, what she needed, and when she said nothing, Aizawa moved to pick her up.

She flinched.

"Don't," Todoroki whispered, his voice hoarse.

Aizawa twisted to glance at Todoroki. He held his hands up and backed away slowly, rising to his full height.

Todoroki swallowed. Eri was standing with her sleeves balled in her fists and her eyes wide and cloudy. She looked as though she might have been sleep walking.

"Eri," Todoroki said, sitting down on the hallway floor. She stared straight ahead, her lips trembling.

Todoroki never sleep walked. He never woke up screaming, or had trouble remembering where he was. He had, however, had fitful sleeps and common night terrors. He could never tell anyone about them out of fear for them as much as fear for himself, so when he'd been a child, alone in his room, the walls caving in and lamps turning to skeletons before his eyes, he'd pulled the blankets over his head and let the terror overcome him.

Eri didn't need to do any of that.

"Eri," Todoroki said, thinking hard. He knew what had always calmed him down when he was a child. "Can you look at me?"

She was silent. Her mouth parted, and then, blinking once, her red eyes slid to Todoroki's face in a daze.

"Okay," Todoroki sighed, relieved that she was at least a little lucid. "Good. Why don't you sit down?"

She stared at him. A small, pained sound escaped the back of her throat. More tears came streaking down her face, and her whole body trembled.

"Eri," Todoroki said. He glanced up at Aizawa desperately. He looked just as lost as Todoroki was. "It's okay. Aizawa and I— Shouta and I— we're right here. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, not while you're with us. Please don't cry."

Eri stared at him. Her eyes trailed along his face, and then, shakily, she reached forward. Todoroki blinked as her fingers brushed his cheek.

Then, very slowly, she reached up with her other hand, and she touched her own. Todoroki blinked rapidly, and he realized he still had tears streaking his face.

It had been hard to shake the tears. He had stopped noticing them.

Eri retracted her hands and stared down at both of them. Her mouth opened and closed, gaping a bit like a fish's before she batted the clouds from her eyes and gazed up at Todoroki in wonder.

"It's the same," she said softly.

Todoroki nodded mutely.

Eri frowned. She looked down at her hands again, and her small shoulders tensed.

"Are… are we the same…?" she asked.

Todoroki didn't know what to say. It was true they were similar in ways that he hadn't fully comprehended himself, but he didn't want Eri to get the wrong idea.

"I don't know," he admitted. He very gingerly took her hands, and he offered her a small smile. "Maybe."

Eri's body went rigid, and he nearly let go of her before she relaxed under his touch. Then, spontaneously, she flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. Todoroki tried not to freeze up and panic as she latched onto him, and instead sucked in a deep breath, and he cupped the back of her head gently. Her hair folded like silk beneath his palm, and he glanced up at Aizawa for support.

He merely stood back, his arms folded across his chest, and he shot Todoroki a thumbs up.

"Good job," he mouthed.

Todoroki frowned. He rubbed Eri's back soothingly as she cried, mimicking the small circle movement Midoriya had used to calm him down earlier. Her hair stuck to the wet patches on his cheeks, which was a little uncomfortable.

When Eri stopped shaking, and her whimpers stopped, Todoroki stood up. Eri rested her chin on his shoulder and he readjusted her so he bore her weight on his hip.

"What now?" he whispered to Aizawa uncertainly.

"Try showing her something that you liked when you were young," Aizawa offered. He shrugged. "That's what I do when this happens."

"Is that where the books come from?" Todoroki muttered, trying to wrack his brains for something positive from his childhood. What had he even liked? Who had he even been?

A memory surfaced slowly. The phantom weightlessness of delight and wonder seized his chest.

"Oh," he said, turning to face Aizawa. "I know something."

"Good," Aizawa said with a nod.

"We have to go to the dorms, though," he said, glancing down at Eri. "Is that okay, Eri?"

She buried her mouth in his shoulder and hid her face with her hair.

"Uh…?" Todoroki had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

"She'll be fine if you carry her," Aizawa said, gesturing Todoroki forward. Todoroki continued to rub Eri's back, and after a few minutes of walking, she lifted her head and blinked up at him.

"Thank you, Shouto," she mumbled, "Shouta."

"It's okay, Eri," Todoroki said. "We… all get that way. Sometimes."

"Sometimes," Aizawa agreed, walking at a steady pace behind Todoroki.

Eri sniffled. She glanced up at Todoroki and then pressed her whole hand against his scar.

"But we're the same," she said, sounding much more certain than Todoroki felt.

Todoroki stood in the hallway, completely immobilized by her action. Aizawa appeared at his side, and looked ready to pull Eri from him, consequences be damned.

"Yeah, Eri," he said quietly. "In a way, we are the same."

Eri's hand fell away. She sighed, and then suddenly, inexplicably, tears filled her eyes again.

"Eri," Todoroki murmured, "no, it's okay. It's not that bad. It wasn't that bad for me. Please don't cry."

They got to the door of the common room, and Todoroki nudged it open. Eri was shaking her head.

"It's okay," he repeated softly. "It's not like that. Not like what happened to you. I'm okay. Please don't cry."

"But you are too," Eri said.

That was the moment, Todoroki's foot halfway through the door, that he realized he'd made a mistake.

It was very late. He had expected most of his classmates would have gone to bed by now.

They were all there. They were all sitting there in silence, their eyes on him.

Todoroki had not realized he had been still crying, but Eri was right. He was crying. He didn't think he'd stopped crying since he had started, when Midoriya had told him that it was okay to.

He felt like he might have been crying for fifteen years of lost time.

"What's going on here?" Aizawa asked sharply. Todoroki had never been so thankful to have him trailing along after Eri. He couldn't imagine explaining this on his own.

"We're just talking, sensei," Mina said innocently.

"At midnight? On a school night?" Aizawa's eyes narrowed. They zeroed in on Iida and Momo, who sat up stock straight with equally guilty expressions marring their faces.

"We're allowed to stay up if we're quiet," Kirishima pointed out. "We were just worried about Todoroki. He'd been gone for a while, and Midoriya said he was upset."

"Which he is," Jirou pointed out.

Midoriya sunk into his seat, sandwiched between Iida and Uraraka. He looked less guilty and more sheepish than anything else.

"What's Eri doing up?" Midoriya asked, changing the subject smoothly. Worry lines creased his forehead, and he stood up. "Is she okay?"

"Eri," Todoroki said, nudging her gently. "It's Deku."

Eri lifted her head and twisted to look around the room dazedly.

"Deku?" she repeated, her eyes trailing along the faces until they found Midoriya's. "Oh. Hello."

"Hello," Midoriya said with a bright smile. "You look like you've been crying again, Eri."

"I'm okay," Eri said, sniffling a little bit.

Midoriya raised an eyebrow. His smile tightened. "Are you?" he asked. "Really?"

Eri stared at him quizzically, and then looked up at Aizawa for support. He nodded to her encouragingly.

"I…" She blinked. "I don't know. Shouto said he was okay."

"That doesn't mean that you're okay, Eri," he said gently.

"But that's what you said," she said, "and you were crying too."

Great, he thought, ignoring the pointed stares of his classmates. He didn't care too much that they were seeing him and hearing of him crying so much that he cared about the questions they might ask later.

"That's different," Todoroki sighed.

"No it's not," Eri said, frowning at him. She looked annoyed, of all things, and she laid her hand across his left eye. "We're the same. It's not different at all."

"Okay," Todoroki muttered, shifting Eri's weight. "You caught me, Eri. I lied."

"I don't know…" Eri's face contorted uncertainly.

"Don't teach her what a lie is," Midoriya groaned.

"No, please do," Aizawa said, his chin in his hands. "This is fascinating."

"Sensei, please! She's a baby!"

"I want to see her lie to Togata," Aizawa said simply. "Todoroki, teach her how to lie and you get extra credit."

"Okay, enough," Todoroki sighed. "Midoriya, you have old videos of All Might in your room, right?"

"Huh?" Midoriya tilted his head. "Oh, yeah."

"Okay. Eri, want to go to Deku?" Todoroki asked her. She blinked, still looking very confused, but nodded. Todoroki set her down, and she walked very slowly to Midoriya's side.

"Kay… uh…" He pointed along the hall. "My room is this way."

Aizawa followed them at a distance, as though he did not particularly want to be part of this venture, but naturally, due to his power and his role as Eri's guardian, had to.

"Why was everyone staring at me like that?" Todoroki asked Midoriya as they reached his room. Midoriya winced.

"I promise I didn't tell them," he said, picking up Eri as she clung to his leg and letting her crawl onto his back. "They're just really worried. With good reason, might I add."

"Yeah, well…" Todoroki sighed. He scratched the back of his head. "I can handle it."

"I know you can," Midoriya said gently, shooting him a pointed glance, "but that doesn't mean you have to handle it alone."

Todoroki decidedly did not answer.

Aizawa hung back as they entered Eri's room. He took a glance around, raised a single eyebrow, and caused Midoriya to shrink half his height as he trotted over to his computer.

"Ooh…" Eri murmured, glancing around at the All Might paraphernalia curiously. She rested her chin on Midoriya's head while Todoroki brushed her tears away with his sleeve.

"I'm sorry," Midoriya said softly. "I didn't mean for this to get so out of control. It really all started because they were worried about you."

"I know," Todoroki said. He felt a little empty as he said it. "I understand."

Midoriya set Eri down on the chair before his computer. "Okay," he said, "which one?"

"The first one," Todoroki said firmly. "You know it."

Midoriya glanced at him. A big smile stretched across his face.

Very soon, Eri's face matched Midoriya's.

"It's fine," Shouto grumbled, twisting his face out of her grasp and combing his hair back over the scab that the Nomu had left on his forehead. "Please stop babying me, Fuyumi."

"Then perhaps," Fuyumi said with a huff, "you should stop acting like a baby."

Shouto looked uncomfortable very suddenly. He rubbed his head where the cut had been, glancing at Fuyumi with a frown.

They were supposed to have lunch, but apparently the teachers thought it was a bad idea for Shouto to go outside alone. One or two teachers had volunteered to accompany them, but Shouto had shot it down pretty quickly.

"Hope you don't mind Lunch Rush's cooking," Shouto said, changing the subject quickly.

Fuyumi peered at him. He seemed better than he'd been the last time she had seen him, but then again, it didn't exactly take much.

"Natsu told me I have to take him left overs," she sighed, grasping the strap of her purse tightly. "I don't know what I'm going to do with him."

"Just keep feeding him until he becomes fat enough to become Fat Gum's sidekick," Shouto said.

"Oh, that's a good idea." Fuyumi tapped her chin. "Chubby Ice? Icicle Munchy? The Incredible Fat Boy?"

"I like that one," Shouto said with a snort. "You know he'd do it too…"

"Just to piss dad off," Fuyumi said, her voice distant. "Yeah."

Shouto glanced away. They walked in silence toward the cafeteria. Fuyumi had spent the last few days mentally preparing for this. She loved Shouto, and she was happy to see him, but they hadn't talked about what happened since that night. She and Natsuo talked enough that she wasn't worried for him— he made it clear that he was doing his own research on the League of Villains and "Dabi," and had relayed what he knew.

She wondered if Shouto knew.

"Have you looked him up?" she asked, hoping she sounded casual but feeling like her whole body was about to drop at any moment with the anxiety that she had speaking about it. She still didn't quite believe it, and she had seen the vague, blurry security photos.

Shouto rubbed his head again, not quite meeting her eye, but nodding all the same.

"What do you think?" she asked, her knuckles white against the strap of her bag. "Natsu's gotten it in his head that Touya got into this mess because of Stain, but I think—"

"Tell Natsuo to stop looking," Shouto said sharply, his eyes flickering up to her face. There was a deep, unsettling terror there that she found odd coming from her brother's face. Sadness, pain, and confusion was usual. Fear was not. "Please, Fuyumi. Drop it."

"What?" Fuyumi blinked rapidly. "What do you mean? We're not trying to find him, we just want to know—"

"No," Shouto murmured, "you really don't. Trust me. Can we please not talk about him? Please?"

Fuyumi chewed on her lower lip, twisting it between her teeth uncertainly. "Alright," she said hesitantly, annoyed that she had to be the mature one and let it go. She wished Natsuo were here so he could fight Shouto on this matter, but he wasn't, so she had to be civil, and responsible, and it was annoying. She eyed her brother's hair, and she shook her head.

"Are you going to cut this?" she tugged at the end of a white strand, and he wrinkled his nose. "The longer you keep it in the front, the more angsty you look. Unless you're going for that emo vibe."

"What?" Shouto clapped his hands over his head, his voice heightening a little in dismay. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's a stylistic choice, though not one I think you're going for intentionally," Fuyumi said amusedly.

"No," he said, blinking. "It's not. This is just my hair."

"Hm…" Fuyumi shrugged. "I can trim your bangs so they're a little more out of your eyes."

"But I like my hair like this…"

"Then keep it," Fuyumi said with a shrug. "I won't attack you with scissors, I'm just saying."

"Cut your own hair," Shouto mumbled, twisting a strand around his finger. "Leave mine alone."

By the time they reached the cafeteria, Fuyumi had begun braiding the white side of Shouto's head, keeping up his brisk pace while chatting with him about work, how mean little children can be, and the difficulty of dealing with youthful quirks.

He bobbed his head in acknowledgement.

"I had to rein in some really rowdy kids a little while ago," he said. He glanced up at her, and he shrugged. "I didn't mind it much."

"Ooh," Fuyumi said, tying off the end of the braid and tucking it behind his ear. "You like kids now?"

"I never didn't like them," he said. "I was just never around them."

Fuyumi smiled faintly at him, hoping he didn't notice how much that bothered her, and she blinked as she heard her name— her family name— called out suddenly, and Shouto caught her by the wrist and pulled her between tables.

"Oh," Fuyumi gasped, blinking down at the teenagers that Shouto had led her to. "Hello."

A bespectacled boy stood up without hesitation and bowed to her. "A pleasure to meet you," he said curtly, his body stiff and his speech very proper.

The other boy at the table, whose unruly green hair fell across his forehead in loose curls smiled at her and waved uncertainly.

There was only one girl, and she sat with a bright smile that dimpled her cheeks and her chin. Her round face was framed by a bob of brown hair.

They all looked vaguely familiar— she remembered seeing them all at various points during the Sports Festival— but the boy with the green hair was the one she remembered most.

"Guys," Shouto said, releasing her wrist, "this is my sister, Fuyumi."

"It's nice to meet you," Fuyumi said, inclining her head respectfully.

"Oh wow," the girl said with a soft gasp. Her voice was very gentle and airy, like a sink full of bubbles that could be gathered in your palm. "Todoroki never told us he had a sister!"

"No?" Fuyumi frowned. "Are you embarrassed of me, Shouto?"

"You didn't bring Natsu," Shouto said dully, "so no."

"I'm going to tell him you said that," she said.

Shouto stared into her eyes, and he mouthed, "Good."

"How inconsiderate," Fuyumi said, placing her hands on her hips. "Shouto, you haven't even told me your friends' names! You're such a bad host."

"Oh." Shouto blinked, glanced down at the table. He began to point. "That's Midoriya right there."

"Hi," the boy said, waving awkwardly.

"I remember you from the Sports Festival," Fuyumi said, allowing her teasing demeanor to fade as she smiled down at him. "You were very good! Are you okay, though?"

"Ah! Yes, yes I am." He rubbed his hands a little nervously but smiled nonetheless. "Recovery Girl fixed me up."

"That's good," Fuyumi sighed. Then she looked to the other boy, who was still standing. "And you?"

"Iida Tenya," the boy said, very hesitantly lowering himself back into his seat.

"Oh, okay," she said, nodding. "That makes sense. And what about the pretty young lady?"

The girl squeaked. Fuyumi didn't mean to make her nervous, because she was acutely aware of how that felt, so she felt guilty when the girl's cheeks got even pinker than they were.

"Uhh, oh, I'm Uraraka Ochako!" She held out her hand, and Fuyumi shook it. "Nice to meet you!"

Shouto watched these exchanges with a curious gaze. Fuyumi sighed, and she shook her head at him.

"Did you not tell your friends I was coming?"

He stared at her blankly. "No?" He frowned, glancing away from her face. "Was I supposed to?"

"Oh," she sighed, patting him on the head. "Shou, we need to teach you communication skills."

"That would be helpful," Shouto said, "yes."

"You two should sit here!" Uraraka gasped, shifting her bookbag so it was on the ground. "Please, we have the room."

Shouto didn't respond, and instead looked to Fuyumi for an answer. She smiled at him kindly. "We can sit with your friends, Shouto," she said. "I really don't mind."

Shouto nodded, but she could tell by the way his eyes shifted that he was not so sure.

After they got their food, Fuyumi sat down. A boy with a shock of red hair had joined the table, and leaned over it rather dramatically to get a look at Shouto's hair.

"Whoa!" the boy gasped as Fuyumi sat down beside her brother. "That suits you!"

"See, Shouto?" Fuyumi said with a smile. "It's cute."

Shouto pawed at his hair, and he frowned. "I don't know how to braid," he said.

"I'll teach you, idiot," she said, rolling her eyes. Then she glanced at the new boy, and she smiled politely. "Sorry, I'm Todoroki Fuyumi."

"I was wondering about that family resemblance and complete lack of uniform!" The boy snapped his fingers, and he grinned at her. "I'm Kirishima Eijirou."

"And you're all Shouto's friends from class?" she asked glancing around at the table. They all nodded, and she smiled, feeling a bit relieved. "Good. I'm glad. Shouto's been a lot more talkative lately, and I'm sure I have all of you to thank. So thank you."

Shouto moved the rice around on his plate as Iida quickly assured her that it had nothing to do with them, that Shouto was just getting more comfortable with himself and his surroundings. Midoriya merely stared at Shouto in a way that made her wonder if maybe he understood the enormity of what she was thanking them for.

"So do you have Ice and Fire too?" Kirishima asked through a mouthful of food.

Shouto's eyes flickered upward almost frantically, and he glanced at Fuyumi. His jaw twitched.

"No," Fuyumi said with a small laugh. "No, just ice powers. Shouto's the only one who inherited both, unfortunately."

Shoto stabbed a piece of meat with his chopstick.

"Wait how many siblings do you have?" Kirishima asked curiously. "Bro, I had no idea there were more of you! How come you ain't a hero, Miss Fuyumi?"

Fuyumi didn't like thinking about that much. Her father had never spared her much time or attention, but when he had, it had always been dissatisfaction brimming on anger. She remembered she had covered their entire garden in ice once when she had been small and feeling inadequate, and her father had taken one look at her and her mess, sneered, and told her a mediocre mess deserves a mediocre maid. She had spent the whole afternoon chipping away ice, as it had been too cold for it to melt naturally.

"It's just not me," she said quietly. "I'm not much of a hero."

"You could have been," Shouto muttered.

Fuyumi glanced at him with a frown.

"If you wanted to," Shouto continued, "You could have been. Your ice quirk is just as strong as mine, if not stronger."

"Yes," Fuyumi agreed hesitantly, "but it also gives me frostbite a lot faster. I don't have that nifty left side to warm me up."

"Everyone has some sort of drawback to their quirks," Shouto said, frowning at his food. "If you had tried, you would have gotten into U.A., and you would have been good. Great, even. The support class would have had a field day trying to help you mediate the cold and focus your ice."

"Let's not…" Fuyumi bit her lip hard, and she shook her head. "Shouto, I don't want to talk about it."

"Maybe we should," Shouto hissed, as though he had forgotten his friends were there. Fuyumi could see them growing increasingly more concerned, except Midoriya, who Fuyumi was now almost positive knew something. "Dad held you guys back. You and Natsu and— you could have been heroes too."

The noticeable absence of Touya's name made her flinch.

"Natsu and you are just as strong as me," Shouto continued, "if not more. Just because I have dad's quirk too, that doesn't mean—"

"We didn't want to be heroes," Fuyumi said gently.

"No," Shouto said bitterly, "Dad stopped you from being heroes. All of you."

Fuyumi inhaled sharply, glancing at children around her. She didn't know what Shouto had told them, but half of them looked confused while the other half looked remorseful.

"What is it you do, if you don't mind me asking?" Uraraka asked.

"I'm an elementary school teacher," Fuyumi said.

"Oh, how fun!" Uraraka looked delighted, which was nice. "That must be like being a hero in its own right, with all of those kids and all of those quirks!"

"It's not easy," Fuyumi said, twisting her lip between her teeth and glancing at Shouto. He had barely touched his food.

"Have you met Eri yet?" Kirishima asked.

Her brother snorted, and he leaned back. "I'm taking her after this," he said.

"Who's Eri?" Fuyumi asked, glancing down at Shouto curiously. Her first thought was, Oh no, a girlfriend? But he's a baby. Followed by, No, wait, who would date this boy?

"She's our friend," Shouto said. "I think you'll like her."

"I want to see this," Kirishima whispered to Midoriya. Midoriya smiled at him, and he glanced at Fuyumi.

"I think we should let Todoroki and his sister have some time to themselves," he said.

"That's a good idea," Iida said, nodding in agreement.

"Tell Eri I'll be by later, though," Midoriya said as Shouto gathered up his things.

"Got it." Shouto waved goodbye to the rest of his friends. Fuyumi smiled at them, thanked them for allowing her to sit, and followed Shouto out. They discarded their plates in the proper place, and Fuyumi struggled to keep up with Shouto's long strides. He was taller than her, which was… upsetting.

"Your friends," she said, finally managing to catch his pace, "they're very nice."

"Yeah," he said.

"So how much did you tell Midoriya?"

Shouto's gaze flickered to her face, for a moment shocked, but then understanding suddenly.

"Everything," he admitted, dodging her gaze. "At least… the short version of everything."

Fuyumi stared at him, and she was both relieved and a bit guilty that he had told someone. It seemed dangerous to let Shouto sit and stew in this school with the knowledge that their brother was more than likely plotting to kill their father and possibly all his friends as they spoke. Fuyumi at least had Natsuo to bother at all times, since the boy was consistent about picking up his phone. And, if she were honest, she and Natsuo were closer than any of their siblings and Shouto.

She hated that. She hated that more than she hated anything, and she had several different arguments spinning around in her head that never quite reached their father.

It wasn't that Fuyumi was scared of him anymore. She wasn't.

She just didn't think she could spend more than a few minutes in a room with him.

"It's good," she said distantly. "It's good that someone knows."

"The teachers know."

"Someone your age," she corrected herself. "Teachers can only do so much. Trust me, I don't understand my students at all. One of my girls told me yesterday that she wanted to be a buffalo when she grew up and I asked her why and she said so she could graze and eat grass and possibly trample a man to death." Fuyumi shrugged, noting happily that Shouto smiled at that.

"Good," he said. "I hope she achieves her dream."

"Me too," Fuyumi laughed. "Gosh, were kids always so violent?"

"Not all of them are," Shouto said, tugging on the braid behind his ear.

"No," Fuyumi agreed, "but it is jarring. Kids can be so mean."

Shouto nodded absently. He looked a little nervous as he slowed down, turning into what appeared to be a residential hallway.

"How is it?" Shouto asked, glancing at her with a frown. "Living at home?"

"Living with him, you mean?" Fuyumi inhaled sharply. She had always stayed in the house because Shouto was still there. Now that he was at school, she didn't have much of an excuse to stay. "Well… I was going to wait to tell you until it was official, but I've been looking at apartments."

Shouto stopped. He looked at her with wide eyes, and there was a flicker of terror and loneliness there that made her heart sink.

"Oh," he said, his voice surprisingly level and dull despite the disappointment in his eyes. "That's really good. I'm glad."

"The only problem is," she said quickly, unable to keep him dangling in suspense any longer, "trying to find a three bedroom apartment on a teacher's salary is pretty difficult, so…"

She left the sentence hanging suggestively, but Shouto merely stared at her, his brow knitted in confusion.

"You don't mind having to share a room with Natsuo over the summer, do you?" she asked.

Shouto's mouth fell open. He stopped walking, staring at her uncertainly, and then the shock hit him all at once. He stepped back, averting his gaze, and then stared at her once more.

"Wait," he gasped, "for real?"

"Yes," Fuyumi said amusedly. "I'll be out of the house by next summer for sure. Natsu's already prattling on about how he's going to work a farmer's market in the summer to help pay for utilities, but if that boy gives me a cent of his money, I'm going to sell him at the farmer's market."

Shouto stared at her. He stood silently for a few moments, his mouth agape, and then it stretched into a bright, disbelieving smile. He half-stepped, half-stumbled forward, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pulled her into a loose hug. It got tighter as, she assumed, the news settled, and he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Thank you," he murmured. "Thank you, Yumi."

She smiled contentedly at the opposite wall, hugging him tight. Finally, she thought dazedly. Finally we can be the family we were supposed to be.

Touya's face crossed her mind like a crack of lightning. She closed her eyes and hoped that Shouto didn't notice her stiffen.

"Why are you so tall?" Fuyumi murmured. "When did that even happen?"

Shouto shrugged as he pulled back, glancing down at her with his smile still stuck in place.

"I'll pay you back," he promised.

"No!" Fuyumi cut her hands through the air emphatically. "What is wrong with you stupid boys? I said I am not taking money from you. If you want to get a summer job, keep that money for yourself.

"Yumi, please—"

"I'm going to murder you both," she warned. "They will never find the bodies."

"I think you will be the first person to murder someone for wanting to pay you," Shouto said dully, "but okay."

"You're my brother," Fuyumi huffed. "Both of you! If I want to take care of my little brothers, I am going to do it."

"You can let us help a little," Shouto said desperately.

"We have a year to figure that out," Fuyumi said, waving him off. "And a year for me to figure out how I'm going to murder you brats."

Shouto smiled vacantly at her.

"What?" she asked, leaning away from him. "What's that look for?"

"Nothing," he said, glancing away from her face sharply.

Fuyumi wanted to pry and tell him to speak to her, because she was his sister, and she deserved to be privy to all his dumb thoughts that he wouldn't share with anyone else. But he wasn't Natsuo. She had to get used to his aloofness, which… she was sure was more of an awkwardness than anything. It was a wonder that he had made friends in the first place.

"I'll figure it out," she said. She hoped she sounded wise and smart.

Shouto thought she was strong, though. That was a nice thought.

Just as strong as him? It was funny to think about, and though she did not agree with it, she was happy he had said it.

"Okay, where are we going?" she asked him.

"Oh, we're here." He pointed to a random door. It was decorated with a pink wooden name plate with delicately painted blue fairies on each side. The characters read Eri.

"This is your friend?" she asked curiously.

Shouto glanced at her, nodded, and knocked on the door.

Fuyumi was studying the name plate, and the more she looked at it, the less it seemed like a high schooler had picked it out. When she had been in high school, she had burned sage in the house and worn some ridiculous things. She was glad that Shouto probably did not remember that.

The door swung open, and Fuyumi prepared herself for a greeting. Her eyes found no one.

"Shouto!" a child cried excitedly. Fuyumi looked down and saw a little girl with white curls dashing out the door and flinging herself at her brother's knees. Shouto had bent down before she reached him, and he caught her in a tight hug, scooping her up into his arms easily. "Shouto, Lemillion wants us to fly a kite!"

"Okay," Shouto said, balancing the girl easily on his hip. Fuyumi watched the exchange in wonder. "I think it should be windy tomorrow."

"Lemillion wants to do it at night," the girl said, looking a bit confused, "because of the lights, or… something… like that…?"

"Togata," Shouto called. "What are you telling her?"

A muscular blond boy appeared in the doorway, and he beamed down at Shouto. "Isn't it a good idea? I thought about lanterns too. We could light paper lanterns with your quirk!"

"Yeah," Shouto said, frowning a bit.

"And everyone can just kick back and enjoy themselves." Togata shook his head. "You are all so uptight. Right, Eri?"

"Right!"

"Hey," Shouto said with a frown. "Are you agreeing with him just because it's Lemillion?"

Eri blinked up at Shouto, and she looked a little nervous.

"Um…" She bowed her head guiltily.

"Don't be mad," Togata said, grinning big. "I'm the favorite. Then Midoriya, then Aizawa, then I guess you."

"I'll be number one someday," Shouto swore, setting Eri down gingerly. She caught his hand the moment her feet touched the floor. "Eri, I want you to meet someone very special to me."

"Okay," she said shyly, her eyes flickering up to Fuyumi. She hung behind Shouto's leg nervously.

"Eri," Shouto said, gesturing to Fuyumi, "this is my older sister, Fuyumi."

Eri frowned up at her. Her small fingers dug into Shouto's leg.

"Say hello, Eri," Togata said brightly. "Big hellos, remember?"

Eri took a deep breath. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"Hello!" She bowed her head deeply, her whole body seeming to bend and her hair falling from her shoulders in a tumble of white curls. "My name is Eri. It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"Whoo!" Togata clapped. "That's it! Great job."

Eri lifted her head, and Fuyumi noted her pink face and furrowed brow. She twisted her sleeves around her hands nervously.

"Hello, Eri," Fuyumi said, kneeling down so they were eyelevel. Eri's hands caught Shouto's pant legs once more. "It's a pleasure to meet you too. I like your dress."

Eri smoothed out her overall dress, and nodded.

"Me too," she said softly. "I— I like dresses."

"Me too," Fuyumi agreed, lowering her voice like she was saying something secretive. "I like the extra flowy ones. They make me feel very fancy, like I'm a princess."

"Ooh…" Eri blinked rapidly. "I don't… think I have one like that."

"No?" Fuyumi blinked. "Maybe you'll get one for your birthday, then."

Eri stared at her blankly.

Fuyumi realized quickly she had said something wrong, and she looked up at her brother. He was glancing at Togata, and she could not quite read what his expression was saying.

"Do you want to play in the common room, Eri?" Togata asked. "It's lunchtime, so not as many kids will be there, just how you like it."

"Okay," Eri said. Togata closed her door behind him, and Fuyumi stood up. Eri had shifted from Shouto to Togata, who had scooped her up and dropped her on his shoulder like she was an article of clothing.

Fuyumi had a million questions, but she knew she couldn't ask them in front of Eri. Shouto knew that too, and was making her wait. Which was incredibly evil of him.

"How old are you, Eri?" Fuyumi asked curiously.

"Um…" Eri shifted nervously on Togata's shoulder. She hugged his head as he moved.

"She's six," Togata said, smiling back at her. "Nice to meet you, by the way. I'm Togata Mirio."

"Another one of Shouto's friends?"

"Well, sure," Togata said, blinking. Shouto tilted his head at Togata curiously. "We don't know each other all that well, but we've bonded over our mutual love of this little ragamuffin." Togata nudged his shoulder, popping it just enough that Eri squealed and slid down into his arms. Fuyumi watched him, and she couldn't help but compare him to some of the dads she saw on occasion.

"Is Deku here?" Eri asked suddenly, peeking over her shoulder at the common room as Shouto opened the door.

"Deku is eating," Shouto told her. "He said he'd come later, though."

"Ah…" Eri deflated a bit. "I wanted to play All Might again."

"All Might?" Fuyumi said amusedly. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Eri clasped her hands together eagerly. "Deku hides, and Lemillion and Shouto guard him, but then I save him! And I shout, 'I am here!'"

"With a smile," Togata reminded.

"Oh. Right." Eri nodded, though the reminder seemed to dampen her spirit a bit.

Togata took off the moment he saw the room was empty, and he and Eri made quick work of dismantling the couches and turning the cushions into forts. Fuyumi watched in wonder. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she could remember doing something similar with Natsu and Touya during a thunderstorm, but they had been swiftly punished for making such a mess.

"Okay," Fuyumi said, dropping down on the nearest chair as Shouto watched Eri play. "Talk to me."

"It's a little complicated," Shouto admitted.

"Please don't tell me she's our long lost sister," Fuyumi said, resting her chin in her hands and glancing at the tiny girl. "Once is a shock. Twice is a cheap trick."

Shouto snorted, and he hopped up onto the table that her chair was positioned next to.

"No," he said thoughtfully. "Though, to be fair, she does look a little bit like mom."

"Oh, shut up."

Shouto smiled, seemingly at nothing, and that was good to see. Fuyumi did not see him smile often, but when he did smile it always made her feel like she was doing something right. Like over a decade of mistakes hadn't completely decimated him and the relationship he had with her.

"Eri is a little girl who was being used by villains to create a bullet that erases quirks," Shouto said.

"What?" Fuyumi jerked back in alarm. "Permanently…?"

"I guess so." Shouto jerked his chin at Togata. "He used to be one of the best students here. He took a bullet for Eri during that fight, and now…"

"So he doesn't have his quirk anymore?" Fuyumi blinked at the boy in question, whose smile was unflinching, whose eyes were big and bright and happy as he tossed Eri into the air, assuring her gently that he had her. "That's awful."

"Eri was treated like an object rather than a person," Shouto said bitterly. "Like… like she was just her quirk, and her feelings and desires didn't matter. I don't know the details— Aizawa told Togata and Midoriya not to tell me, because they think it'll upset me, but…"

"Oh," Fuyumi whispered, feeling the weight of his words falling onto her shoulders. The responsibilities— the failure that was her very own, washing over her like a strong wave. It was like she was being submerged in the past, like she was a child in a doorway, thrown into the hallway that seemed to stretch on and on for eternity, a door slammed in her face, and the screams and bellows and soft whimpers drowned out all sense of direction. The felt herself shrinking into it, the past becoming her present and the future dissipating with a breath.

Shouto looked down at her. He edged closer, and brushed his cool knuckles against her cheek.

"Yumi," he said quietly. "Hey. Fuyumi."

"Hm?" She glanced up at him from behind her glasses. His brow was creased worriedly.

Whatever he wanted to say, he didn't. He just stared at her, his expression hard to read, and then he looked away.

"Can you teach me how to braid?" he asked suddenly.

Fuyumi blinked rapidly, the request billowing through the cloud of dark thoughts that had crowded her brain. It was a breath of fresh air at last, like she'd stumbled to the end of the hallway and ran out into the garden.

"Oh!" She clasped her hands together. "Yes, of course. Sit on the ground."

Shouto obeyed without question, sliding from the table onto his knees, and Fuyumi slipped down onto the ground beside him. She took off her glasses and discarded them near her knee, taking a clump of her hair and pulling it upward.

"Okay," she said, "I want you to watch me."

By the time students began piling into the room again, Shouto had successfully braided Fuyumi's hair, and Fuyumi was playing with both sides of Shouto's hair, now two stubby braids that barely touched his ears.

"Lookin' good, Todoroki!" a blond boy hooted, rounding Eri and Togata like their presence was commonplace. Todoroki shot him a thumbs up.

Eri wandered over to them nervously, Togata standing watch behind her as though she was moving at his behest, and she glanced up at Fuyumi.

"Can you…?" She tugged at her hair, and frowned.

"Braid," Shouto supplied the word for her gently. Fuyumi wasn't sure the extent of the poor girl's trauma, but the more she interacted with her, the worse she felt.

Eri nodded quickly, and Fuyumi smiled down at her.

"Of course," she said gently. "Can you please turn around for me?"

Eri glanced up at Shouto, who nodded at her. She turned her back to Fuyumi, who made quick work of her nest of white hair.

"Who brushes this?" Fuyumi muttered. "It's damaged. You need a better brush."

"I think Aizawa uses a comb," Shouto said.

"That might work for Aizawa's hair," Fuyumi said, tugging the knots from Eri's hair with her fingers, "but Eri's hair is pretty thin. You need something with soft bristles."

Shouto stared at her blankly.

Fuyumi sighed. "I'll take you," she said, very gently pulling Eri's hair back into a braid. "When are you free?"

"I'm not sure if I'm allowed to leave," Shouto admitted. "Especially not with Eri."

"Well, what if your teacher comes?" Fuyumi leaned over so she could see Eri's face. "Would you like to go shopping, Eri?"

"Mm…" Eri shifted uncomfortably. "Well… yes?"

"Good!" Fuyumi took her spare hair tie from Shouto, who had released his own braids. "It's settled. We're going to have a shopping trip."

Shouto glanced at her, snorted into his hand, and he turned his face away.

"Okay, Eri," Fuyumi said. "You're all set."

Eri dragged her hand over the braid, gaped for a moment, and then looked up at Fuyumi with bright eyes.

"T-thank you!" she gasped.

It was at that point that Midoriya and his friends walked in, and Eri immediately rushed up to them. Fuyumi smiled as she showed off her braid, and Midoriya asked her to spin encouragingly so the braid flew around her head.

"It's nice that you kids have really welcomed her," Fuyumi said absently.

Shouto shrugged. "It's… more Togata and Midoriya. They were the ones who saved her. I probably wouldn't have gotten close to her if Aizawa hadn't told me that he thought we were alike."

"Are you?" Fuyumi asked, feeling she already knew the answer. "Alike?"

Shouto frowned for a moment. He looked down at his hands like they might have the answer for him, but instead there was just silence.

"I'm happy for you, Shouto," Fuyumi told him gently. "You're doing good here."

"Being away from dad has helped," Shouto admitted, looking a little guilty as he spoke. His eyes darted away from her face.

"It helped Natsu too," Fuyumi said. "Just… not Touya, I guess…"

Shouto shook his head furiously. He closed his eyes, and he kept shaking his head as she stared at him, wondering if they were just going to dance around their brother's existence for the rest of their lives. She didn't think she could handle that.

More students came in, and Shouto introduced her to his class hastily. They all watched her with curious gazes except for the boy, Bakugou, who glanced at her, sneered, and walked away.

Another student asked her why she wasn't a hero, and the four children who had sat with her at lunch glanced at each other frantically. Shouto folded his arms across his chest as she answered the girl, who was pink and had horns, candidly.

Eventually Shouto pulled her away from his inquisitive friends and escorted her out.

"This was nice," she said absently. He didn't respond. "I'm really proud of you, Shouto. You're adjusting so well."

"I'm…" Shouto frowned, and he turned his face away from her sharply. "I'm learning, I guess."

"That's good," she said eagerly. "It's good that you can learn."

Shouto's eyes fluttered closed, like he was pained and did not want to say it. He walked with a slump, his body sluggish and tired. She wondered if he was getting much sleep. He wouldn't tell her if he wasn't.

"Shouto," Fuyumi murmured, her lip catching between her teeth. "I… I don't want to pretend he doesn't exist."

Her words seemed to hit him hard, and he physically seemed to dodge them, his head bowing low.

"I'm just as responsible for him as I am for you," she continued. "I don't like to think that he just… just forgot we existed."

"He didn't," Shouto said quietly.

"Then why didn't he call?" Fuyumi watched him desperately. "Why didn't he come to me? I don't understand."

"He said you'd feel guilty, but you wouldn't want to let him go," Shouto said mechanically, like he was parroting a voice on an answering machine. "He thinks you'd try to ignore what he's done because you love too much."

"Does he think I'm stupid?" Fuyumi asked sharply. "I can't ignore murder."

Shouto fumbled with his sleeve, his expression drawn and pensive.

"I don't think he can, either," he admitted. "I don't think he thinks he deserves your love."

Fuyumi stopped, her hands twisting together and catching against her chest. She clutched her shirt, blinking as she tried to imagine her little brother, quiet and righteous, shirking all sense of affection because he didn't believe he deserved such a thing.

"Oh," she said bitterly, "that's so him."

Shouto shrugged. "Regardless…" He looked like he did not want to speak. His jaw tightened, and he shook his head.

"Yeah," Fuyumi said. "He's still our brother. He's still our responsibility."

Relief glimmered in Shouto's eyes as he slumped. "They don't get it," he muttered. "When I say that I feel responsible, they don't understand what I mean."

"Well, you aren't technically responsible for his actions," Fuyumi told him gently. "But… he is our family. We neglected him, whether we meant to or not, and now he's like this. I won't abandon him again."

Unless, she thought dazedly, he hurts Shouto or Natsuo. If he does that, then I will never forgive him.

Shouto relaxed. He nodded firmly.

"I tried to tell Aizawa and All Might that," he said, "but they got really dodgy about it. Like, no, I'm not going to go looking for him, but I don't want to pretend he doesn't exist."

"Dad is just ignoring all of it," Fuyumi said. Not that their father acknowledged her much, but still. She noticed he had been going on as if nothing had happened. "We can't be like him."

"No," Shouto agreed. "We can't."

When Fuyumi reached the entrance, she found herself incredibly sad. She didn't want to leave Shouto yet. Her instincts told her to keep him close, to shield him from the reality of their past mistakes, to baby him like she should have when they were children.

"Don't be a stranger," Fuyumi said, a little desperately.

Shouto nodded. He smiled at her as much as he could, and when she stepped up to hug him, he held up his arms awkwardly. His cheek rested against her head, which she found insulting, and he wrapped his arms around her.

"Be safe," she murmured.

"Yeah." He blinked as he pulled away from her. "You too."

Fuyumi got maybe a block away before she pulled out her phone.

"Hey, Natsu," she said, making her way to the train station. "I forgot your food, but I have to tell you about my day, so please don't whine."

Aizawa had hesitantly agreed to let Fuyumi take Eri shopping on the condition that he go with them. Todoroki didn't mind, and Fuyumi was fine with it, so on a Sunday afternoon, Todoroki and Aizawa set out with Eri in hand to meet Fuyumi at the mall.

Todoroki had invited Midoriya and Togata, but they had both declined. Togata was spending time with his family today, and Midoriya had used the excuse that he had homework. Todoroki knew he just wanted him to spend more time alone with his sister.

After Fuyumi had visited, he'd gotten a lot of questions. Everyone was still worried about him, which he was embarrassed about. He didn't need to be fretted after, but he was thankful that they were concerned.

Aizawa had only really agreed to this because, by his own admittance, it was probably really good that Eri was getting a woman's perspective. Todoroki had not thought of it, but it was true. Eri didn't have any women around her consistently. The closest would be Midnight, who had said to Todoroki's face once that as much as she liked children, they did not like her much. He'd seen her try to talk to Eri, and it was very funny but ultimately a bit sad. The girls in his class doted on Eri when they saw her, but Eri was too shy to interact with the crowd of them. Jirou was her favorite, but Jirou panicked whenever Eri gave her any attention and in that panic she often dropped her phone into the girl's hand and ran away.

Todoroki had braided Eri's hair today, and she kept swinging the braid around her head amusedly.

Fuyumi was sitting on a bench near the entrance. She perked up when she noticed them, and waved. Todoroki waved back.

Eri held onto Aizawa's hand and hid her face shyly.

"Hello, Eri," Fuyumi greeted, stooping to Eri's level without thought. Todoroki admired her for being able to communicate with children so easily. Eri looked up at her, and she waved uncertainly. "Are you ready to go shopping?"

Eri nodded eagerly.

Todoroki took Eri's other hand. She was glancing around the mall in wonder as Fuyumi began to chat with Aizawa— chat as best as she could, considering it was… well, Aizawa.

"You're like Eri's dad, then?" she asked

Eri frowned at that, looking up at Aizawa confusedly.

"No," Aizawa said, "not really. I am her guardian, though, and I'll protect her as best I can."

"Well," Fuyumi said, "teacher to teacher, I have to say… you've done an amazing job with Todoroki's class."

"They're talented," Aizawa said. His eyes slid lazily toward Todoroki, who stared at him blankly. "If not a little bullheaded and dumb."

Fuyumi laughed. "Teenagers are like that, though," she said. "Though I guess I only have a limited understanding of that area of expertise. Just Natsu."

"And me," Todoroki said, frowning.

"You don't act like a teenager though," Fuyumi said. "You act like an old man. A grumpy old man."

Todoroki frown deepened, and he looked down at her uncertainly, because he did not know how to respond to that.

"Teenagers are dumb by nature, yes," Aizawa said tiredly. "I think if they were all like Eri, I'd be happy. She's very low maintenance."

"What does that mean?" Eri asked curiously.

Aizawa bent down, and she climbed into his arms. "It means you're a good girl," he said, "and teenagers are demons who don't know how to listen."

Todoroki might have resented that if he didn't know better. He'd disobeyed Aizawa enough times that he couldn't exactly resent him for being his brutally honest self.

The first store they went into was an accessory store. Fuyumi immediately grabbed a basket and tossed a hairbrush into it.

"Use this when her hair is dry," she told Aizawa, "and a comb when her hair is wet."

"Hmm…" Aizawa squinted at the hairbrush. "Okay."

"Your hair is long," Fuyumi said, "so I'm sure you know all about conditioning and maintaining split ends."

"Yes, I think I can handle that."

"Good." Fuyumi relaxed a bit. She smiled up at Eri, who was leaning over Aizawa's shoulder to look at a pop out of headbands. "You like these? Pick out whatever ones you want!"

Eri blinked dazedly down at Fuyumi. "Really…?" she asked uncertainly.

Fuyumi held up the basket, and Eri blinked rapidly before examining the headbands a little closer. She pulled a green one off its ring, and she turned it over in her hands.

Then, with the utmost care, she leaned down and placed it in the basket beside the hairbrush.

"Grab another one," Fuyumi said eagerly.

Eri stared at her, and then she twisted around and tugged at a banana yellow headband. Todoroki pulled it off the hook and tossed it in the basket.

Fuyumi led them around the store, pulling hair ties and scrunchies off hooks and tossing them into the basket, letting Eri pick out the colors and patterns she liked. She got hair clips and colorful ribbons. Todoroki found a small stack of flower crowns on a shelf, and he called Fuyumi over.

Fuyumi ripped them out of his hands and threw the whole stack in her basket without a word.

"You want to wear this out?" Todoroki asked Eri as she forced a tiara onto his head. She'd snatched one for herself, her eyes going big at the sight of it.

"Yes!" Eri clasped her hands together, and she frowned a bit thoughtfully. "Um, please."

Todoroki turned to the cashier. "Are we allowed to wear these out of the store?"

The young woman had been grinning the whole time, watching the exchange with great interest. "Yes, of course," she said. "Let me just scan the items."

Fuyumi dropped the basket on the counter, and Todoroki plucked Eri off the floor so the woman could scan the price tag on her crown. He took his off and handed it to her, and once she was done, he handed it back to Eri so she could crown him again.

"Don't," Fuyumi said, sliding in front of Aizawa and shoving a card in the cashier's face. "Put your wallet away, Mr. Aizawa."

"You want to pay for everything?" Aizawa's eyes narrowed. "Come on, that's ridiculous."

"It's courtesy of my father," Fuyumi said.

Aizawa stared at her for a moment. He snorted, flipped his wallet shut, and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Pay away, then," he said.

It was probably smart that Fuyumi was taking advantage of using their father's money, since it seemed like the plan was to cut him out of their lives the moment Fuyumi got her own place.

Todoroki was tentatively excited. He'd never known any home but the one he grew up in, and the prospect of living in a cozy little apartment with his brother and sister, far away from the training room and his father, filled him with a dizzying amount of joy.

"Time to get clothes," Fuyumi said, clasping her hands together. "What does Eri like? Besides dresses, which of course will be number one. Eri, what are your favorite colors?"

"Um…" Eri glanced at Aizawa nervously, and he nodded at her encouragingly. "I… I like… um… yellow?" She thought for a moment. "Green…" She met Todoroki's eye, and he nodded sympathetically. "P-pink? I think?"

"I love it," Fuyumi said softly. "None of those colors go together. It's perfect."

Eri looked confused for a moment before she saw that Fuyumi was smiling. She hung close to Todoroki as they entered the next store.

"I was told not to get her anything too…" Aizawa glanced around the children's store with a frown. "Cute."

"Outrageous," Fuyumi huffed. "Get her whatever you think she'll wear. Even if it's ugly, she's cute, and if she's happy, what does it matter? She'll grow out of it in a few months anyway."

Eri pulled a pair of large pink sunglasses off a display and put them on. Todoroki grabbed the nearest pair— a pair of red, heart shaped ones, and he put them on.

"Want me to send this to Midoriya— I mean Deku?" he asked as Eri leaned close to the mirror. She looked up at him and nodded eagerly.

"Lemillion too!" she gasped.

"Right." Todoroki knelt down beside her, and he took a picture of them in the mirror. Neither of them were smiling, and instead they stood stiffly. Todoroki grimaced. They really were birds of a feather. He sent it to Midoriya before he could think too hard about it, and told him to forward it to Togata.

"Ooh…" Eri was drawn to a stack of glittery plastic bottles. She reached for one, and Todoroki watched vacantly as they all went tumbling down. Eri stood, her mouth gaping, a single glittery bottle in hand.

Todoroki took her hand and steered her away hastily.

"Eri," Fuyumi called, flipping a functional looking red turtleneck dress around. It had a gold belt that was shaped like a heart. "Do you like this?"

Eri stared at it. She reached out, touched the heart, and then she nodded eagerly.

"What about this?" Aizawa asked. He was holding two dresses. One looked like a tiered pink cake with a big bow on the front. The other was a little more tame, a yellow button down dress. It had pockets that were trimmed with rainbows.

"Yes," she said, nodding eagerly. "Both."

Aizawa glanced at Fuyumi. She shrugged, took Aizawa's dresses, and tossed all three into the basket at her feet.

"Turtlenecks," Todoroki said, pulling Eri over to a table full of folded shirts. "Hm…"

He studied all of them intently. Eri stood on her tip toes to get a look at them.

"Black or red…" he murmured.

Eri mimicked his expression. She glanced up at him, her hand on her chin as she frowned at the shirts.

"Eri, what do you think?" he asked her.

She kept making her pensive face. She reached up, tugging a dark green knit turtleneck off the table.

"Genius," Todoroki whispered, taking it from her hands gingerly.

Fuyumi passed them, and as Todoroki threw the shirt into the basket, she glanced at him. Then at the turtlenecks.

"Of course I'd find you here," she said.

"You got a turtleneck," he said defensively.

"It was a dress," she said, "and it was cute."

"What if her neck gets cold?" Todoroki frowned. "They're nice. And functional. I like them."

"Okay, okay. Eri, why don't you grab another one since Shouto likes them so much."

Eri nodded. She pointed to the red one, and Todoroki smiled at her.

"Rain boots," Todoroki said, pointing to an aisle. "Eri needs those."

"Smart thinking," Fuyumi agreed, kneeling down. "Eri likes yellow, so we should get yellow. Maybe a raincoat too?"

Eri was running her fingers over the thick, red knit of the turtleneck. It looked very plush and soft. So much so, she began to rub her cheek against it.

"Do you want to try that on?" Todoroki asked.

"Can I wear it outside?" she asked.

Todoroki blinked. She was still wearing the tiara and sunglasses. He snorted, and he gave her a small nod.

Then he spotted something that made him almost dive over the aisle. He picked Eri up and dashed forward excitedly, ripping the rain jacket— no, it seemed like a cape of some sort— off the rack.

"All Might!" Eri cried, clapping her hands. A smile crept up on her face, and Todoroki grinned.

"It's a cape," he said, setting her down and tossing the cape over her shoulders. The resistant fabric squelched under his hands. It was made to mimic his costume, and it had two floppy yellow antennas on its hood.

Eri twirled around excitedly. "I am here!" she gasped, throwing her arms into the air.

He wasn't sure if she had actually talked to All Might yet, but Todoroki needed to remind Midoriya to get on that.

"Damn," Aizawa said as Fuyumi practically melted at Eri's feet, gushing over how she was the bravest and prettiest and most wonderful hero— things that Todoroki probably wouldn't think to say, and Aizawa wouldn't know to say, so he was thankful she was here. "You kids and All Might."

"It's effective," Todoroki said.

"Yeah. Gotta hand it to him." Aizawa watched Eri, and his eyes softened. "He has a way of giving people hope."

He didn't say "had," which Todoroki appreciated.

They left the store after paying and allowing Eri to change into whatever outfit she wanted. She exited with her tiara, pink sunglasses, the yellow button up dress over her red turtleneck, and the All Might cape.

They ate lunch in the food court, Aizawa finding a place that sold sliced apples for Eri, and he pulled the sunglasses and tiara off. They were too small for his head, and beginning to give him a headache.

He noticed someone take a picture of him, and he shrank a bit in his seat. Fuyumi and Aizawa ignored it.

"Hey, you're Endeavor's son!" a passing man gasped. His eyes flickered to Eri and Fuyumi, who stared at him with twin frowns. "Are these two your relatives?"

"My sisters," Todoroki said awkwardly.

"Wow!" The man grinned. "So cool! Keep up the good work."

They watched him walk away. Todoroki went back to his food.

"That's so odd," Fuyumi said. No one commented that he had called Eri his sister. Eri did not seem to notice, as she was elbow deep in apple slices. "Does that happen often?"

"I don't really go out without the class much," he admitted. "So no."

"You might as well get used to it," Aizawa said. "Especially if you plan on using your real name as your hero name."

"Yeah…" Todoroki hadn't thought of that drawback.

"Did that never happen when you were younger?" Aizawa asked frowning.

Todoroki stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth. Fuyumi closed her eyes and sighed.

"Our father didn't take us out in public," she said, her lips doing that thing where she twisted them between her teeth. It kept reminding Todoroki of Dabi, but he couldn't tell her that. "Shouto was too busy training to go outside, and our father… he liked to pretend we didn't exist unless we did something to make him angry. When we were taken outside, it was our mom who took us, or later a nanny."

Eri sat quietly, listening intently, because Todoroki didn't talk about these things. She glanced up at him, and he chewed in silence.

Aizawa sighed. He slouched in his chair, glancing around the food court with a frown.

"Yeah, I don't like this," he said. "It's not good that Todoroki's been recognized."

"You think it's dangerous?" Fuyumi asked, looking surprised. "Here?"

"Midoriya got attacked in this mall over the summer," Todoroki said.

"Okay, we're going," Aizawa said, gathering their garbage and tossing it in a nearest bin. "Everyone up."

Eri was sipping on a juice box as they exited the mall, one hand in Todoroki's. Fuyumi and Aizawa carried the bags, leaving him solely responsible for her. Two shorter curls had fallen out of her braid, and now framed her face.

Todoroki checked his phone and saw that Midoriya had texted him back.

The coolest people in the world!

Todoroki felt satisfied knowing he had not looked as awkward as he had felt.

They walked along the street, and Fuyumi asked him what he had on the agenda for the next week. Todoroki listed off the lessons he knew of before a large crash had them all stumbling to a stop. Aizawa flung out his arm, shoving Todoroki back as a dark form came hurtling through the air and crashed onto the sidewalk in front of them, cement cracking under its feet.

Eri cried out, her small fingers digging into his leg as she clung to him in fear. The Nomu was a lot bigger than the one that he had encountered a few weeks prior.

"Go," Aizawa snapped, pulling his goggles up over his head.

"What?" Todoroki gasped, lurching forward. "But you— you're alone!"

"I can handle it," Aizawa said, shoving him back. "You need to take Eri away from here right now, got it? She trusts you, and so do I. Get her some place safe."

Todoroki looked down at Eri, and he saw that her face was buried in his leg, her arms wrapped around his knee tightly.

"Okay," he said, bending down and scooping Eri up. "Okay."

He whirled around, grabbing Fuyumi by the arm and running in the opposite direction as the Nomu roared. Fuyumi's head was twisted so she could get a better look at the Nomu, and she gasped.

"That thing…" She shook her head furiously. "What even is it? It looks…"

"Don't think too hard about it," Todoroki muttered, dragging her into the nearest alley so they were no longer getting jostled or trampled by escaping passersby. "We just have to make it back to school, and then—"

"C'mon, Shouto. Do you really think it'll be that easy?"

Todoroki froze. He held onto Eri limply, feeling her arms tighten around him as she dug her nose into his neck and trembled in absolute terror. Nausea stirred in his stomach, and he realized quickly that all of his nightmares from the past few weeks were becoming a reality.

He had hoped he'd have more time to figure things out.

The bags in Fuyumi's hands clattered to the ground, and the sound of them broke Todoroki from his stupor.

He looked down at his sister's face. She was beginning to turn very slowly to look at what remained of their brother.

"Take her," Todoroki gasped, shoving Eri into Fuyumi's arms. Eri cried out, her arms stretched out toward him. There were tears in her eyes, her hands open and grasping at air. Todoroki stepped back. He gathered the bags, in his head thinking that it only made sense to save them, and stuffed them in a crevice between buildings. Dabi watched this with his arms folded. He stood at the mouth of the alley, his shoulder leaned up against the wall.

"Shouto," Fuyumi gasped, struggling to keep a hold of Eri, "wait a minute!"

"Go," Todoroki gasped, watching Dabi stand up straight. He rolled his shoulders, his turquoise eyes almost luminescent in the shadows of the alley. A raindrop fell and hit Todoroki's cheek.

Then Dabi lurched forward, and Todoroki prepared himself. He got into a sturdy stance, his heart in his throat, and then—

Dabi streaked past him.

A blur of black in the mist of rain.

Todoroki pivoted, snatched Dabi by the collar of his shirt, and he yanked him back.

Blue fire billowed through the air, and Eri screamed. Todoroki felt blind in his terror and rage, and he shoved Dabi into a wall, kicking him in the stomach. Dabi rolled, coughing, and his fist cuffed the side of Todoroki's ear. The force sent his head smashing into the brick wall beside them, and light splintered across his eyes as he instinctively stumbled away.

He blinked over at the blue flames, and saw, with a breath of relief, that Fuyumi was alright. She was leaning against the wall, phone against her ear and mouth in her hands. On the other side of the fire was Eri, who had backed herself up against the other wall. She seemed to be shaking ice off her jacket and dress.

Yumi, Todoroki thought gratefully, is a blessing.

Then he realized what she was doing. He wiped the blood from his eye, and he sent a barrage of ice skidding up the wall where Dabi was spitting bile onto the street. He lurched away, fire licking up his arms and hurling itself in his direction. It was a controlled blast, smaller than what Todoroki had seen at camp but bigger than what he'd sent at Fuyumi.

Todoroki slid onto his knees, clapping his left and right hand onto the road and letting ice and fire roll upwards, sliding across the ground and barreling toward Dabi.

A curl of blue fire smashed into the ground, colliding with Todoroki's blast.

"Fuyumi," Todoroki called, skidding sideways as Dabi lurched toward him, another blast of fire hurling towards him. He matched it with his own blast, and found himself colliding with the ground. He scrambled to his knees and shot his sister a look that perhaps looked a little manic, or even possessed in the whirling blue light. The fires were dying slowly due to the drizzle around them. "Yumi. Do not call dad!"

Fuyumi stared at him. Her eyes were pained, and she glanced at Dabi desperately.

"Shouto…" she said.

"No!" Todoroki pulled himself to his feet. The explosion had caught part of the building, and it was crumbling. He shot a worried look at Eri, who was crouched on the ground, her hands over her ears and her eyes squeezed shut. "You have to take Eri. You have to go right now!"

"Shouto," Dabi said, his one arm lighting up bright and beautiful blue, like the sky made corporeal. "Come on. This isn't about Fuyumi. This isn't even about you."

Todoroki stared at him. Then, sickened, he stepped between him and Eri, and he let his left arm explode, flames trickling against his skin and washing over his hands and neck and cheek and hair.

"I don't want to fight you," Todoroki said, "but you even try it, Dabi, and I will not make your mugshot pretty."

"Too late for that, brat," Dabi snorted. He glanced at him, and there was a dullness to his gaze that made Todoroki wonder why he was doing all of this. He looked a bit miserable.

Then he struck, fire stretching across the sky, and Todoroki twisted, sending a wall of ice between him and Eri as he flung his left arm, catching the blue fire with a wave of his own. The resounding crash, flames bellowing and bursting, shook the earth.

"Come on, Eri," Fuyumi was saying. When Todoroki glanced back, he saw that Fuyumi was pulling Eri back, dragging her away from the carnage. She kept stumbling and twisting. Their eyes met.

Pain lanced up his right side, and a scream was tugged from his mouth. He fell, crashing onto his side and instinctively coating his entire left arm with ice. The fire burst apart, dissipating under the pressure, but his ice had melted just as quickly. Todoroki stared at the remains of his shirt through his blurry vision, and he saw pink welts where the fire had managed to lick him.

"Shouto!"

"Eri, no!"

Todoroki struggled to sit up, blinking dazedly up at the round and terror-stricken face of a small girl in an All Might rain coat.

He dragged himself onto his elbow, hissing a little, and he shook his head.

"Eri," he gasped, "get back. Go!"

Eri shook her head mutely. She had tears in her eyes, and he could see that her horn looked a little bigger, which was… concerning.

She stepped over his legs, and she flung her arms out, bracing herself as a strong wind shot through the alley, and the pressure of the rain caused all the residual fires to go out. Her hood fell back with a gust.

"I am here!" she gasped, her voice small and shaky.

Dabi stared at her. He quirked a single eyebrow.

Then, without warning, she stepped closer— as close to him as she probably dared— and hurled a rock at his face.

"Die, dragon!" Eri cried.

Dabi had been so unprepared for the lobbed projectile that it smacked into his chin, and he half fell into the nearest wall.

Todoroki lurched forward, just as Dabi snarled and sent a wave of fire at them. It became weaker as it traveled through the rain, and Todoroki tackled Eri to the ground, shielding her head with his arms. The fire grazed his back, and he felt it but at the same time he didn't. He tore off his jacket and hurled the remnants of it away.

Dabi stood over them. His hand was outstretched and in Todoroki's face as he hovered protectively over Eri. Her cheek was resting against the scarred asphalt and her eyes were squeezed shut.

Dabi stared at him. His brow furrowed.

Todoroki held his breath. He could see the creases of his palm and just how the staples sunk into his skin, the punctured folds and the wrinkled scars.

His lip twisted, momentarily, between his teeth and pulled back into a grimace. He swung his arm back.

Before he could strike Todoroki, his hand was punctured.

Dabi screamed.

Todoroki's eyes widened, and it took everything in him not to lurch forward and hug him. Because he knew that scream. He'd heard it before, and before, and that made him feel like he was sinking, submerged in a frozen lake, and the cold of it all sent a thousand knives jammed directly into his skull.

Dabi stumbled back, heaving a deep breath, and he looked down at his hand.

There was an icicle protruding from his palm.

It had gone straight through. Blood, muscle, bone and all.

Dabi stared at it. For a moment, there was something in his eyes that glistened, his mouth stretching back and falling open.

Then he steeled himself, the sorrow snapping like a tether.

The ice melted as he closed his fist, fire bursting from his fingers.

"This isn't your fight," he said warningly.

Todoroki wrapped his arms around Eri and held her close as Fuyumi stepped out in front of him. She adjusted her glasses, smoothed out her blouse, and took a deep breath.

"Touya," she said, frowning deeply, "I love you very much, and you're my brother, but you're a real asshole."

Todoroki pulled Eri away sharply as Fuyumi produced another icicle, and flung it at Dabi. He smashed it with his fist full of fire.

"Are you kidding?" Dabi squinted at her. "Don't. Don't you do this. You can't beat me! Get out of here!"

Fuyumi stared at him. Her shoulders and knees were shaking visibly. Todoroki could see her lower lip trembling.

She dragged her fingers through the air, and a massive wall of ice shot up, smashing through the building beside them and hurling into Dabi. He missed it only by creating a ball of flames around himself, and he was flung into the street.

"Yumi!" Todoroki cried, scrambling to his feet.

"No!" Fuyumi pointed her finger at him sternly. "Enough out of you! Get her out of here."

"I can't," Todoroki confessed, glancing down at Eri, whose horn was getting a little bigger every time he looked. Her power could activate at any second. "We have to get her to Aizawa. Her quirk is really dangerous when unchecked."

"Go, Shouto!" Fuyumi cried. "You never, ever let me take care of you! Please, just this once, let me be a big sister!"

"But—" Todoroki objected. He was struck silent as spires began to grow from Fuyumi's shoulder blades, tearing her blouse and becoming brilliant crystalline, wing-like icicles.

Dabi had gotten up. He stared at her.

She pried two icicles, about the length and width of swords, from her back, and she hurled one at him like it was a javelin.

Todoroki remembered suddenly that her aim was so good because she had excelled at track and field in high school.

Specifically javelin, discus, and high jump.

The javelin icicle missed, but while Dabi had been distracted she had iced the ground beneath him, and he slid suddenly, slipping to the ground. The very tip of Fuyumi's icicle came dangerously close to his throat.

"Ice sword," Todoroki breathed, feeling dazzled and immensely proud. Of course, he had known Fuyumi had it in her. He believed whole heartedly that all of his siblings could have and should have been heroes. This only really proved it. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Stop it, Touya," Fuyumi said. Her voice was thick and a little shaky. "Come home."

Dabi's eyes seemed to flare, and he bared his teeth.

"To that house?" he spat. "Never."

Fuyumi lurched away, a shout perched on her lips as she iced over the flames that had caught onto her sleeve. Dabi had sent a ball of fire unfurling toward the sky, and she blinked down at where he had been, only to see that he was gone.

She stared at the place where he had been. Todoroki pulled Eri up with him as he stumbled out of the alley. The rain had begun to grow heavy around them.

"What happened?" Todoroki gasped, glancing around them. "Did Warp Gate show up?"

Fuyumi shook her head mutely. Then, without warning she dropped to her knees and stared at the ground.

"Yumi!" Todoroki dropped down beside her. He grabbed her shoulder and he looked at her face. She wasn't hurt. There was a small patch of ice on her cheek, and Todoroki rubbed his hand on his trousers to dry it off before producing a small flame and holding it close to her face. The rain tried to squash it, but it held on dearly. "It's better if he's gone, so—"

"No," Fuyumi said, her voice strained, "it's not."

Todoroki stared at her. He watched as she tore her glasses off and buried her face in her hands.

He felt lost. He knew that he could not help her, not with this.

Inexplicably, Todoroki looked up.

On the crumbling roof, a pair of blue-green eyes watched them.

He turned away, and Todoroki looked down. He wrapped his arm around his sister, and he rested his cheek against her shoulder, which was cold as ice.

Then he noticed the burns on his arm were gone.

"Shit!" Todoroki lurched to his feet. He yanked Eri away from Fuyumi and hugged her close, not sure how to soothe her. Across the road, his eyes met with Aizawa. He had been doing damage control, and the Nomu appeared to be apprehended.

Aizawa took at him, and then his eyes flickered down to Eri. He jogged across the street and pulled her from Todoroki's arms.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded. "I told you to leave!"

"We tried!" Todoroki retorted, offended that Aizawa was so angry. "Dabi was waiting for us. He wanted Eri."

Aizawa froze. He was still staring at Eri, likely just erasing her quirk for good measure, and he shook his head.

"That doesn't make sense," he said. "Dabi attacked you, but he wanted her?"

"It didn't seem personal," Todoroki admitted. Well, it had become personal, but it seemed like Dabi's mission had not been a personal vendetta initially. "And he definitely held back."

"Fuyumi?" Aizawa asked suddenly. He didn't tear his eyes from Eri. "Are you alright?"

Fuyumi wiped her eyes with the remnants of her sleeve, and she nodded. She stood up shakily, and Todoroki caught her with his left arm, warming her as best as he could. She relaxed a bit.

"Just c-cold," she admitted. "I… I don't use my quirk like that. Not often, anyway."

"It was really cool," he whispered to her. "Can I steal that move?"

"Which one?" Fuyumi asked, sniffling.

"All of them."

They took a car back to U.A. after a medic checked Todoroki and determined he did not need to go to the hospital, despite Fuyumi's protests that he had to have a concussion. The had yet to explain Eri's power to her.

Eri slept the whole way there, her head in Todoroki's lap and her horn slowly shrinking.

Her bags were safe at Todoroki's feet. Both Fuyumi and Aizawa had scolded him for worrying about them, but Todoroki didn't care much.

"So now we know your brother will hurt you if he has to," Aizawa said, his eyes still glued to Eri despite not needing to use his power. It was either habit or precaution. "That's not comforting."

"No," Todoroki admitted. He glanced at Fuyumi, who had refused to leave him. She had her forehead pressed against the window, and she had not said anything since they had left. "It's not terrible, either. I mean, I knew it would be like this. He said as much, but… I don't know. I guess it's hard to admit that it's really him."

Aizawa sighed. He glanced at Todoroki tiredly.

"You still want to save that son of a bitch?" he asked.

Todoroki stared at him for a short moment before nodding.

Aizawa groaned. He lifted a hat from one of Eri's bags and dropped it over his eyes.

"This is gonna be tough work," he admitted. "But if he really held back because it was you two… well, it's a start."

"He didn't lay a scratch on Fuyumi," Todoroki said. "He could have— she's not trained, and you know how his quirk is. But he didn't. He's worth saving, I swear."

Aizawa inhaled sharply. He cracked one eye open.

"Keep it to yourself for now," he said. "I think you know how to keep a secret, so just… don't tell anyone else."

Todoroki nodded firmly.

"When you catch him…" Fuyumi's small voice caused them both to turn toward her. "I… I just… I want to speak with him."

"I know," Aizawa sighed. "But you can't. Not now."

"I know that," Fuyumi said with a frown. "But… it's just… he's my little brother. He shouldn't be like this."

"But he is," Aizawa said, "and he's got to pay the price."

Fuyumi stared at her hands. She dragged her hand through her hair and she shook her head.

"We're all paying the price already," she whispered.

They sat in silence until they reached U.A., and Todoroki tried to wash the sight of his brother's gaze as he willingly abandoned his mission for the sake of sparing them.

This was going to be messy.