Archive of Our Own

When push came to shove, Aizawa Shouta was not a patient man.

His impatience was both a curse and a blessing, though at the moment it felt more like the former than the latter. He stomped through the endless corridors of U.A. without a care for formalities, not even sparing a glance for the students who gaped at him in unveiled fear and confusion. Some of them bowed weakly in greeting, but for the most part they just stared and tried not to get in his way.

Good. Students shouldn’t be here anyway.

It was the end of the day, and almost all club activities were done at this point too. What was left were just a few stragglers chatting with their friends or asking their teachers last-minute questions before they went home for the day. Soon, they’d all be gone, back in their comfortable dorms where they could relax and do homework in peace. The only ones who’d be left in the building would be the hardworking janitorial and maintenance staff working away meticulously to keep the school pristine and safe.

Safe? What a joke that was.

As a school, U.A. already had far too many shortcomings, and though Aizawa was proud of his alma mater, he couldn’t dare claim it to be anywhere near safe. After all, what sort of safe school would allow its students to remain in such a hostile environment, would allow it to foster such terrible home environments without even realizing?

What sort of teacher did he have to be, to not notice?

He needed to calm down, he knew, but he couldn’t stop himself from replaying his conversation with Nezu over and over again in his mind like the shittiest broken record player.

Tracking the principal down had been the easy part. Getting him to sit down and listen, was a whole other story. It had taken more time than he would’ve liked—time he could’ve spent doing something, anything to help Todoroki’s situation—but eventually he was able to wear Nezu down and make him budge.

It helped that, among other things, Aizawa was known never to make a big deal out of nothing. He knew his reputation superseded him, and in this case, he was thankful for it. Enough insistence and earnestness on his part was more than enough to convince the principal that he wasn’t just exaggerating or trying to cause a panic, but was actually concerned.

Aizawa was more than willing to drag Shuzenji over to Nezu’s office as well and have her explain the full extent of Todoroki’s injuries. Luckily for her, it wasn’t needed, as the principal just gave in prematurely with a soft sigh and followed him to the gym’s observation room.

Nezu had watched the proceedings of that day in complete silence. For the sake of time—something that was, again, so precious in these fragile circumstances—Aizawa didn’t show him the entire training session. He limited it to Endeavor’s first two demonstrations with Todoroki, the last exercise with Todoroki and Midoriya, and finally, the fight.

That terrible, terrible fight.

Could it even really be called that? He pondered as he watched back the footage again. With hindsight clear as day, he could see all the tiny hints heralding the disaster to come. It was surreal, like re-watching a movie after knowing the major plot twist at the end. Except this wasn’t a movie, and there were no plot twists; this was his student’s actual life, and Aizawa would have easily predicted the ending if he just stepped back and looked.

It was so clear, and he wondered why he never saw it before.

The fire dancing in Todoroki’s eyes every time his father’s name was mentioned. The light assortment of bruises and scabs that adorned his body even on days they didn’t do combat training. The occasional limp in his step that suspiciously stopped after all students were moved to a dorm set up.

God, even Todoroki’s refusal to use his fire made so much sense now, and Aizawa couldn’t believe he’d overlooked it before.

For his part, Nezu didn’t react strongly to anything, keeping that everlasting poker face of his without fail. But Aizawa knew better, had worked with the principal long enough to know that the very fact that he wasn’t smiling meant he realized the gravity of the situation. Hell, with his High Specs, he probably could tell what was wrong the very second the training demonstration began.

The video feed cut off into blanket white noise, and that was all that fell between them for a moment.

“This,” Nezu finally spoke up after what was probably only a minute, but felt like an eternity, “is a grave oversight on our part.”

Aizawa hadn’t responded, but he didn’t need to.

“For the moment,” Nezu continued, “we will prioritize young Todoroki-kun’s healing, both physically and mentally. Once he’s awake, we must determine the full extent to his relationship with his father, and work from there. It’ll do us no good at the moment to target Endeavor until we have the full story.”

“Principal—”

“Aizawa-kun,” Nezu interrupted, the merry tone returning to his voice, though it sounded forced. “I understand your anger and frustration, but you mustn’t act rashly. You very well know how important it’ll be to take this slowly and rationally, lest we jeopardize the trust Todoroki-kun holds in us, and the school, forever.”

The principal had turned then, gesturing for him to follow as they made their way back to the main campus.

“This is not a hopeless situation, Aizawa-kun, but we must be patient and careful.”

God, he knew the principal was right, but it didn’t dampen his fury at all.

Clicking his tongue, Aizawa rounded the corner and loudly told off another pair of students who were still loitering around. Nezu had left him just a few minutes prior, saying he would start making the appropriate phone calls and assessing what their next steps could be. It was a dismissal if he’d ever heard any, so Aizawa bit off a polite goodbye before turning on a heel and briskly trekking to the nurse’s office.

He all but slammed the door when he arrived, knowing but not caring that Shuzenji would absolutely tell him off for it. His eyes darted around the room, perspiration beading up on his temple in a mix of physical and emotional exhaustion. Todoroki—

“He’s here.”

He nearly jumped at the sudden voice, but instead he snapped his gaze down to see Shuzenji staring back at him, her face pulled into a hard frown. Aizawa let his shoulders drop at the sight of her, some of his tension dripping away just at the very reassurance that she was here to help. Coughing a little to clear his throat, he straightened his posture before speaking up.

“Where—?”

“Over there,” Shuzenji said simply, gesturing vaguely towards the window.

Lo and behold, there Todoroki was, lain out on one of the bed tucked in the corner of the room. Piles upon piles of blankets covered his prone form, as the last bits of ice on his body melted into the damp sheets beneath him. He was asleep, Aizawa quickly realized, and he vaguely wondered whether or not the boy woken up at all in the time since he’d left.

He looked to Shuzenji questioningly, but she didn’t pay him any attention as she cleaned up her workspaces.

A couple bottles of burn salve and rolls of bandages were strewn across the room, so he could only assume some of his other students had come at some point for healing as well. He hoped they didn’t bother Todoroki, though knowing those nosy kids he wasn’t entirely sure.

“He hasn’t so much as twitched since you brought him here,” Shuzenji continued, answering all his unasked questions.

Oh.

So his students wouldn’t have seen Todoroki, or at least, wouldn’t have seen him awake. A tiny bit of relief bloomed inside Aizawa. No doubt his students would immediately ambush Todoroki with the questions and concerns upon seeing him. Though Aizawa was sure they meant well, he could already imagine what a catastrophe that could turn out to be. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly that Todoroki needed right now, but he was sure it wasn’t that.

“Really, it’s already so late…I’m wondering if I’ll need to keep him here overnight for observation or not. He used up all his stamina, and it’s make healing all the more difficult for his body right now. Even with my quirk, I can’t do all that much until he regains some more strength. My goodness…what is it you’re having your students do now? So careless—”

“You’re right, we were,” Aizawa interrupted, walking over to Todoroki’s bed with quiet footfalls.

Stopping at the edge of Todoroki’s bed, he let his eyes scan the boy’s face. Most of his superficial cuts and wounds had been healed, but his face looked a little flushed and his limbs trembled a bit even in his sleep. The shoulder where the Hellfire had hit was unclothed—the fabric in that area having been singed to a crisp—but in its place, thick gauzes wrapped around and covered it. Part of him wanted to ask how bad the wound was, but he knew he wouldn’t like the response.

“Recovery Girl,” he said suddenly, and he knew the use of a code name caught her attention even more. “How soon can you have a mental health assessment prepared?”

Silence filled the air instead of a response, until Aizawa could hear Shuzenji shuffling over to him quietly.

“Today’s training was with a special guest, correct?” she asked instead, her hush voice deafening in the noiseless room. “The boy’s father?”

“Shuzenji-san.”

Even Aizawa could hear the plea in his own voice, but he didn’t care. This was far more important than his pride, or any semblance of it. He could hear Shuzenji gulp slightly, and her gloved hand came to rest gently on his own in a show of comfort. Aizawa didn’t even try to deny how well it worked.

“Just what on earth happened out there today?” she murmured, as though she herself didn’t want to know the answer.

She definitely shouldn’t, as far as Aizawa was concerned, but that sort of thing didn’t matter here.

“You’ll know soon enough.”

-

Aizawa left the nurse’s office with conflict brewing in his mind.

Shuzenji assured him that she’d watch over Todoroki for a little while longer, and if he didn’t awake then, she’d have him put in for overnight observation with her assistants. It was more than a little concerning, to see just how beaten down Todoroki really was.

While his exterior wounds outside of the Hellfire hit were minimal and easy to heal, the fact that he overtaxed his quirk to this extent was alarming. Todoroki had better control, Aizawa knew that. He’d seen it in action before, during previous trainings and battles. But whatever flurry of emotions that had been raging through Todoroki during that fight had been enough for him to lose all semblance of control, as he shot off attack after attack.

Between the frostbite he gave himself but was unable to fix because he passed out, and the overuse of his stamina, it was no wonder he’d hadn’t woken up yet.

Exhaling heavily, Aizawa made his way towards the exit at a steady pace. He could worry himself to death about Todoroki in a little bit. For now, his only order of business was to get to the Class 1-A dorms and try to clear some things out. Maybe, if he shielded the brunt of their questions, the students wouldn’t bother Todoroki so much when he did wake up. At the very least, he could discourage them from blabbering on too much until they had all the details, and maybe he could even try to squeeze some information out of Midoriya—

“Aizawa-kun!”

Aizawa stopped dead in his tracks as the familiar lilt of the principal’s voice sounded from behind him. Turning around, he raised an eyebrow as Nezu beckoned him over. He complied without question, but he found himself surprised that he wasn’t led into the principal’s office. Instead, they stepped into a welcoming lounge, just a few doors down from Nezu’s office.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as soon as the door slid shut behind them.

He immediately decided he didn’t like the look on Nezu’s face. Though he was still smiling as usual, there was a certain coldness glazing over his eyes that never meant good news. It was an expression that usually only came out when he was put into a situation he didn’t like, or when something reminded him of the humans that experimented on him.

So, which one was it this time?

“We have a guest, you see,” Nezu chirped.

“A guest.”

“Yes!”

Aizawa noted that the principal wasn’t sitting down on the couch, nor was he fixing himself up a cup of tea. They didn’t have much time, then.

“She’s in my office at the moment, and you’ll be taking her to the 1-A dorms.”

“I see,” Aizawa said slowly. “And why is that?”

“She’s a high-level associate of Endeavor’s.” Ah. “Unfortunately, he was swept away with some hero work, and he’s unable to come check in on his son’s condition as was promised. So, he sent one of associates instead, to assess Todoroki-kun’s condition and report back to the boy’s father.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed.” Nezu paused, looking blankly off to the side before continuing, voice softer this time. “She was quite curious on the proceedings of the training demonstration, that I assume you might be able to answer as the boy’s homeroom teacher?”

Neither Endeavor nor any of his ‘people’ would know they had footage.

“Ah, and, of course, you’ll be quite helpful to help soothe any concerns Endeavor might have had about his son, I’m sure.”

They wouldn’t know that Todoroki was still in the nurse’s office, either.

“My apologies for the sudden request after hours.”

This was a chance, a small one, to take a crack at the Endeavor puzzle.

“Not at all,” Aizawa answered easily.

It was left to him to decide how this went.

“I’d be delighted to help.”

-

This woman—Takeshima Aori— was irritating beyond belief.

She was all sharp smiles and slick sentences in possibly the worst attempt to be conniving Aizawa had ever really seen in his hero career.

Alright, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration. Really, it was clear she wasn’t trying so much to be conniving as much as she was honest in her putting up a façade. She made no attempt to conceal the malice beneath her kind expression. Her backhanded compliments were glaringly obvious, and the questions she asked were no short of an interrogation. She didn’t pretend that she wasn’t pretending; she very well knew Aizawa saw through her cheap smiles, and she didn’t care.

How annoying.

The walk to Heights Alliance was filled with unwanted chatter, and Aizawa barely made a show of putting on a nice front of his own. If she wasn’t going to try, why should he? He answered her questions with curt responses, mentally taking inventory of the sorts of things she asked. They seemed innocent enough, as she asked about the demonstration and the extent of Todoroki’s injuries, but they were asked pointedly and precisely. It was clear she was noting what he said as though she needed all the information for later. As though she was readying for a rebuttal.

As though she was waiting for U.A. to try something.

“Ah, by the way, Takeshima-san,” he said casually as they neared the dorms. “I know the principal insisted you come to the dorms, but it’s very well possible Todoroki will not be there now.”

“Oh?”

“He was still unconscious and healing, the last time I saw him, so I’m not sure whether he’d have left Recovery Girl’s office just yet.”

Aizawa already gathered enough of an impression from her about her personality and what Endeavor wanted. If he could just get her to go away, without bothering Todoroki, he’d be golden.

“My goodness, well that’s a bit of a fumble, now isn’t it?” Takeshima hummed. “Had I known that, we could have stopped there first!”

“Yes, I suppose so—”

“But, well, I guess it’d hardly be proper to intrude on a healing patient.”

It was a bland, dry attempt at being considerate, one that Aizawa doesn’t even entertain.

“That darn Nezu,” she continued, more than happy to hear herself talk. Even out of the corner of his eye, Aizawa can see the cruelly sly smile tugging up on her lips. “Shouldn’t he have known that already? They say U.A.’s principal is so smart and all, but I suppose push comes to shove, an animal is an animal…”

Aizawa grit his teeth and bit his lips harshly to keep himself from speaking back. That would only give her what she wanted—some sort of proof of irresponsibility or irrationality on U.A.’s, no doubt so that they could pin the blame on the school if anything were to be said. She very well knew what the consequences of Endeavor’s actions could be, and she was well prepared to face it with a snake’s tongue.

As expected of the now Number One Hero’s associate.

“We’re here,” he said instead as they reached the 1-A dorms. “Please wait a moment while I explain to the students why you’re here.”

“Of course!”

Lingering for just a second, Aizawa quickly turned away from her and pulled open the grand doors instead.

He didn’t often stop by the 1-A dorm. He saw enough of the brats during the day time, and thankfully they didn’t get into too many shenanigans that required him to reprimand them at night. They were still all adjusting to the dorms anyway, with the term having barely just started, so he figured giving the kids some space would be a good idea.

So, he kept his distance, and only came by when he was absolutely needed. As such, he didn’t really have much of an idea of what the students got up to when left to their own devices. He figured they’d just do normal kid stuff, like gaming or watching TV or procrastinating on homework in the common room.

He certainly didn’t expect this.

Quite a few of them were indeed in the common room, but that wasn’t the important part here. No, he realized as he surveyed the room and saw all of their shocked faces. What mattered was the commotion drawing out all their shock, and Aizawa let his gaze follow theirs only to see…Bakugou, of course.

He was angry, that must Aizawa could tell. His whole face was scrunched up in fury, but beyond that there was something else. Pity? Concern? Confusion? Aizawa wasn’t entirely sure, and he furrowed his own eyebrows as he looked at the scene more closely. A few students were crowding around them, trying to pull Bakugou away, and it was then Aizawa realized that the kid had pushed someone to the wall. He looked closer, only to see—

Todoroki?

Shit, he miscalculated.

He’d expected Todoroki to still be knocked out cold with Shuzenji. He certainly didn’t expect the boy to be here in the dorms, shoved against a wall with his shirt collar fisted in Bakugou’s hands. They were nose-to-nose, Bakugou all up in his face about god knows what. Todoroki, for his part, didn’t seem to care, his head hung low and body oddly limp in Bakugou’s grip. He seemed almost lifeless, and Aizawa almost wondered if the kid was still unconscious. But no, his eyes were open, staring back at Bakugou with unreserved apathy.

Neither of them had noticed Aizawa’s presence, but some of the other students did. Yaoyorozu perked up at the sight of him, her mouth opening to call out to him, but another voice overtook her before she could even try.

“Oh ho, Shouto-sama!” Takeshima chirped noisily, shoving her way into the threshold next to Aizawa.

Todoroki’s eyes widened as he snapped her head over to them, the previous apathy suddenly melting away in favor of recognition and… anger? With an energy he hadn’t seemed to have before, he stood up straight and shoved Bakugou off of him, ignoring the yells that fetched him. Even as Bakugou shouted and screamed curses at him relentlessly, Todoroki didn’t pay him any attention, stepping forward to glare at Takeshima.

“You.”

He was practically snarling, and Aizawa didn’t like how similar it sounded to how he spoke to Endeavor earlier that afternoon.

“Me!” Takeshima exclaimed, seemingly unaffected by Todoroki’s rage. She still had on that sleazy grin that make Aizawa’s fists clench and his stomach churl. “Missed me? Feels like it’s been so long since I—"

“What are you doing here?”

Takeshima sighed, a boisterous, dramatic kind of sigh that was solely to garner attention.

“Really, the manners on this boy,” she said, nudging Aizawa as though expecting him to agree with her. “No greeting? No, ‘long time no see, Takeshima-san, how are you?’ My, from little Shouto-sama, I’d even accept a sweet ‘Aori-chan~!’ But no, he always—”

“Why,” Todoroki cut in, voice low and threatening, “are you here?” 

Aizawa watched the scene in a curious concern, eyes flickering back and forth between the two rapidly as he saw the other students do the same.

“Tut, tut. And here I was, so generously offering to check up on you. You’ve worried Enji-sama so much, you know? He was devastated that he was too busy to come see you himself.”

Her grin pulled higher onto her face, and Aizawa found himself yearning to punch it off of her.

“But my, my, what’s this? Were you picking a fight again, Shouto-sama? My goodness, what a troublesome child for Enji-sama.”

Todoroki looked at her for a moment. Well, looked would be putting it too lightly—gawked would probably be the right word. Eyes wide and face painted with a mix of shock, confusion, and disgust, he stood there and waited. For what, Aizawa wasn’t entirely sure, but it was clear he waiting for Takeshima to do something. No one, even Bakugou, said anything as they watched the pair in stunned silence.

But just like that, the elevator was dinging and the silence was broken.

“Leave.”

And with that one demand, Todoroki was turning on a heel and all but stomping towards the elevator.

“Oi, Todoroki—”'

“Oh, don’t worry about him, Aizawa-san!” Takeshima crooned, an unsettling laugh accompanying her words.

He was positive that she misinterpreted his call to be on her behalf, and he wished he could tell her how wrong she was. He wanted to tell her that all he was her to leave campus immediately, so he could sit Todoroki down in a quiet place and talk through all of this with him, but he knew it wouldn’t be that easy.  So instead, he just bit his tongue and watched as the elevator doors shut behind Todoroki.

“That boy’s always been such a troublemaker, picking fights and being disrespectful.”

No, she was wrong. Sure, Todoroki talked back sometimes, and his blunt behavior was often taken the wrong way, but he was a good kid.

Vaguely, he wondered if Todoroki believed that himself.

“But that’s alright. He looks perfectly fine, so I’ll let Enji-sama know there’s nothing for him to worry about!” Takeshima ended cheerfully. “I’ll be taking my leave, then.”

“Ah,” Aizawa said through grit teeth, pulled out of his stupor. “Alright, I’ll take you to the front gate.”

“No need!”

Aizawa wasn’t proud to say that he jumped reflexively at the sudden loud voice. He snapped his head around to see none other than All Might—or, well, Yagi, as he went by now— stood at the front doors. The students were murmuring and chattering amongst each other at his entrance, and Aizawa had half a mind to tell them to all scramble back to their rooms already.

“Ah, the principal briefly informed me of what happened,” Yagi said merrily, but when they caught eyes over Takeshima’s shoulder, Aizawa could see the seriousness in his eyes. “I’d be happy to escort you out myself.”

“Ooh, All Might, huh?”

Aizawa could see the predatory glint in Takeshima’s eyes. While he was appreciative for the offer, he wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with leaving her with the ex-Symbol of Peace. Endeavor’s dislike of All Might was hardly a secret, after all, at least among hero circles.

“You don’t have to—” he started, but Yagi just cut him off with a quick wave of the hand.

“Don’t you worry,” he said. “Besides, you have work to do, right?”

Yagi’s eyes flickered to the elevator for what could have only been half a second, but it was enough for realization to hit Aizawa. Yagi knew—just how much, Aizawa wasn’t sure, but he knew at least some of what had happened.

Huh. Maybe he’d end up buying Yagi that drink after all.

“Well, if you insist.”

“I do!”

Ushering Takeshima out of the building was easier than Aizawa had expected, but he supposed he couldn’t be too surprised. Even in this skeletal, hollow form, Yagi was always incredibly personable and charming. It was all to easy for him to lead her out while also shielding all her prying questions into both his heroic and private life.

Sighing slightly, Aizawa turned his head and raised an eyebrow at his students. They were all staring at him, but none of them were trying to drill him with questions like he’d expected. No, instead, they were all just stood and sat there, watching and waiting to see what he’d do.

Even, he noticed as he narrowed his eyes, Bakugou.

“What happened here?” he asked gruffly, eyes flickering across the room when no one answered him. “I don’t think I need to remind you all on the policy we have on fighting here. I can assure you, house arrest would be our most lenient punishment—”

“We weren’t fucking fighting,” Bakugou snapped.

Aizawa waited for an explanation, a clarification of some sort, but it never came. Instead, Bakugou just stared at him as though expecting him to say something, and Aizawa hated that he couldn’t figure out what it was his student wanted to hear. When a moment had past just like that, in pin-drop silence, Bakugou just scoffed and looked away.

“’M gonna go take a bath,” he huffed out, trudging his way over to the restrooms as Kirishima called out to him.

Aizawa didn’t stop him, though. Instead, he just watched him leave with curious eyes, before turning back to the other students expectantly. Surprisingly, it was Ashido who cracked first, stepping up to him hesitantly as she fidgeted with her hands and averted her gaze.

“Uh, sensei?” she asked slowly, her eyes rapidly flickering back and forth between the floor and him. Aizawa nodded and gestured for her to continue. “Please, don’t…don’t be mad at Bakugou!”

Aizawa blinked. He hadn’t expected that.

“Yeah!” Kirishima added, having given up on following Bakugou to the baths. “He didn’t do anything wrong, we swear! Neither did Todoroki, so don’t be upset!”

“They weren’t fighting, for real!” Sero said.

Suddenly, a chorus of voices were coming at him, pleading both Todoroki and Bakugou’s innocence. Aizawa found himself taken aback at the sudden passionate fuss, barely able to piece together any sensical story from all of their voices overlapping. Clicking his tongue, he narrowed his eyes as he turned red, letting his hair rise as his quirk activated.

“Enough!”

That was enough to shut all of them up at once, and he released his quirk with a sigh.

“Now,” he said, keeping his voice significantly softer this time. “One of you, tell me what happened.” He glanced around the room, honing in on one person in particular. “Midoriya? You’ve been awfully quiet this whole time.”

It was true. While practically everyone else was hustling and bustling to vouch for Todoroki and Bakugou, explain what happened, or just shout apologies and questions, Midoriya stayed silent. He just observed Aizawa from one of the distant couches, and his expression was notable blank and unreadable.

It seemed strange, considering how close he was with both boys. As much as Bakugou hated to admit it, since his fight and house arrest spent with Deku, they’d come a tentative sort of understanding as rivals. Not entirely friendly, but getting there.

Meanwhile, Midoriya seemed to be one of the only people Todoroki talked to on a regular basis. He’d been getting better about socializing with the rest of his classmates, but he still seemed to be the most comfortable with Midoriya.

It had Aizawa thinking back to the training exercise before he could help it—from the use of Todoroki’s first name in Midoriya’s frenzied panic, to the way he seemed to know more about Endeavor and Todoroki’s relationship than anyone else there. Aizawa’s chest clenched uncomfortably when he recalled bits and pieces of Midoriya’s rambling, back when they had brought Todoroki to the infirmary.

“I didn’t… I mean, after the Sports Festival, he told me not to tell anyone. I agreed but…but this! I mean, he never told me any details, so I didn’t know how bad it would get, but this is just—”

“He was worried, sensei.”

Midoriya voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and Aizawa looked up to see the boy staring back at him with a steely gaze and a surprisingly steady voice.

“Kacchan, he’s not good with expressing this sort of stuff, but he was just trying to figure out what happened that make Todoroki-kun tick like that. He was just worried. All of us were—well, are.”

Looking around the room, Aizawa was surprised to see the same sort of resolve that was in Midoriya’s expression be reflected in his classmates. They were all looking at him with this sort of concerned determination that felt so uncharacteristic for the rambunctious bunch.

“Todoroki-san wouldn’t talk to any of us when he got in,” Yaoyorozu said quietly.

“Sensei,” Tokoyami started, “there’s something wrong, isn’t there?”

When did these brats become so much more mature? Aizawa wasn’t sure, but it had an odd sort of pride welling up in his chest anyway.

“Todoroki’s exhausted,” he said simply. “He used up too much energy and overtaxed his quirk today. Recovery Girl didn’t even expect him to wake up today.”

“I see!” Iida exclaimed. “It’s true, that Todoroki-kun was far more reckless than usual during today’s training!”

“I mean, no matter how you look at it, that was too much, right?” Kaminari added. “Training exercise or not, didn’t Endeavor take it way too far?”

“I’ve never seen Todoroki-kun that mad before…” Uraraka muttered.

“And some of the things he said… it almost kinda sounded like…like…” Shouji trailed off, but the disconcerted look in his eyes— and probably the rest of his face too, beneath his mask— was more than telling.

“Sensei, do you know if—”

“Enough,” Aizawa cut Sato off sharply, ignoring the squirming in his gut. Even the kids, with all their inexperience with the real world, figured out something was wrong. It was almost relieving, but Aizawa couldn't stop imagining how Todoroki himself would respond to their probing inquiries. Probably not well, if he had to guess. “Back to what you were doing. You can check in with Todoroki later, but for now, let him rest.”

“But—”

“He needs time to recuperate on his own. I know you’re all worried, but leave him be for now. Dismissed!”

“Y-Yes, sensei!”

-

Aizawa wasn’t too sure if he should go up to see Todoroki or not after that.

On one hand, it felt like the natural option. For one, Yagi had specifically bit the bullet for him and walked Takeshima out just so Aizawa could talk to Todoroki. The kid clearly had like, five levels of trauma going on right now too, and it was more than a little obvious that leaving him alone right now probably wouldn’t be the best idea. He’d been the one to tell his students to leave Todoroki alone, but that didn’t mean he wanted him to be isolated. He needed someone to rely on right now—just not his overly curious, tactless classmates.

On the other hand, though, Aizawa didn’t know how much more useful he could be. Delicate conditions like these weren’t exactly his specialty. While he wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with the protocol for these types of situations, there was a big difference between knowing the rules written out in U.A.’s teacher handbook, and putting them into practice in an actual abusive situation.

Abuse.

Because that was what it was, wasn’t it? There didn’t seem to be much of an explanation for it otherwise. Sure, getting a little too rough as a guest presenter during a hero training lesson was nothing to write home about. It might get Endeavor a slap on the wrist, but that was about it. What was implied during that fight, though…

“You fought harder when I was twelve.”

“Watch yourself, villain.”

“You always take a second to recover after Hellfire.”

Aizawa could probably spend a million years, if not more, berating himself for not noticing anything sooner.

But then again, that wouldn’t change anything, would it? The damage was done, and it wasn’t his job to get mad now. No, his sole responsibility laid in helping Todoroki now, no matter what it took, and damn it all if he wasn’t going to start now.

Stepping out of the elevator with new resolve, he trekked through the fifth floor corridor without a hitch in his gait. He stopped in front of Todoroki’s door and knocked firmly but not too loudly. It wouldn’t do to completely startle the kid, after all.

“Todoroki, I’m coming in,” he called out in warning.

Resting his hand on the doorknob, he was half surprised to see it give way to him and turn easily. He’d honestly expected Todoroki to lock his door the second he got in, and when it didn’t, he almost assumed that the kid wasn’t even in. Maybe he’d stepped out when no one was looking, or went to a different floor for some reason.

Those suspicions were quickly proven wrong, though, as he opened the door.

Light from the corridor shone into the otherwise dark room, illuminating Todoroki’s back ominously. The kid hadn’t turned on any of the lights in his room, it seemed, and now he was just standing in the middle of it doing seemingly nothing.

His phone was in his hand, Aizawa belatedly realized, though his grip was precariously loose. The blue light from its screen just barely shone light onto Todoroki’s face, though Aizawa still couldn’t get a good look at his facial expression because of how he was turned away.

“Hey, kid,” he said slowly.

He didn’t let himself get deterred when he was met with no response. Instead, he reached out to the light switch on the wall and turned it on, wincing a little at the sudden influx of brightness. He pursed his lips when he saw that Todoroki hadn’t even reacted to the light, still standing there stiff as a statue. Shutting the door behind him with a quiet creak, Aizawa walked forward slowly but steadily until he was right behind Todoroki.

“Todoroki,” he tried again. Still no reply.

From here, he could see Todoroki’s phone screen over his shoulder. He had a chat window open, Aizawa realized, and he narrowed his eyes when he scanned the text. It wasn’t ideal, reading his student’s texts and invading his privacy like this, but Aizawa quickly found himself not caring as he took in the contents of the message.

From: Onee-san

Dad’s asking when you’ll be coming home to visit. He says he needs to talk to you.

Shouto what did you do?

Call me when you get a chance.

Shouto.

“Kid.”

As slowly and gently as he could,. Aizawa reached around Todoroki to coax the phone from his grip. Todoroki relented easily, putting up no fight as the device was taken away from him and set on the nearby dresser. The lack of resistance only spurred on Aizawa’s concerns more.

Todoroki was always quiet, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t feisty as well. Usually, he’d at least talk back or shrug Aizawa off. Now, though, he just stood there blankly and let his hand fall to his side limply the second his phone was taken away.

Saying nothing else, Aizawa placed a hand on Todoroki’s shoulder—the uninjured one— as non-threateningly as possible. He guided the boy to sit down on the floor, watching as he naturally relaxed the second he did so.

There had been a slight tremble in his body before that melted away the second he was seated, and it made Aizawa wonder if Todoroki would’ve even been able to stand for much longer anyway. It certainly seemed like he was seconds away from having his knees buckle beneath him, legs giving out beneath his weight as he collapsed to the ground.

Walking around Todoroki so he could face him directly, he wasn’t all that surprised to see the boy looking downwards instead of forward. Cupping his jaw softly, he silently cajoled Todoroki as gently as he could to raise his head and meet his eyes. Todoroki did so without a fight, lifting his head so they could make eye contact silently. Aizawa’s stomach flipped when he saw the blankness in Todoroki’s gaze, when he saw how glossed over and vacant his whole expression looked. He barely looked cognizant, even if his eyes were open and his body moving.

“Todoroki,” he said once more.

Nothing.

“C’mon kid, come back to me now.” He spoke a little louder this time as he lightly patted the boy’s cheek. “Tod…Shouto.”

That seemed to do the trick.

Aizawa watched as Todoroki blinked lethargically low and awareness slowly started returning to his expression. He opened and shut his eyes with that same steady pace, each blink bringing back a little bit more clarity to his eyes, until the glassiness from earlier was entirely gone. That dead, hollow gaze was replaced with confusion, and Todoroki tilted his head as he stared back at Aizawa.

“Sensei?” he asked.

His voice was scratchy and hoarse, and Aizawa tried not to grimace as he heard it. Though the bruises around his neck were gone from Recovery Girl's healing, the memory of Todoroki being held up by a tight grip on his throat were still fresh in Aizawa’s mind. He schooled his face, dropping his hand from Todoroki’s cheek but not completely leaning back.

“Can you tell me where you are right now?” he asked instead.

The question seemed to take Todoroki aback, and he looked around the room wearily. Uneasiness settled in the pit of Aizawa’s stomach when recognition didn’t immediately flicker in Todoroki’s eyes, and instead he look an extra few minutes to scan his bedroom.

“It’s okay if you don’t know,” he said softly, bringing a hand to rest on the side of Todoroki’s arm in what he hoped was reassurance.

“Am I home?” Todoroki asked.

Aizawa wanted to say yes, that this was Todoroki’s home. This was a place he could be safe and sound, away from the place that no doubt housed him, but wasn’t truly a home.

Instead, he just said, “It depends on what you mean by home.”

Todoroki squinted his eyes, tension drawing lines in his face as he tried to make sense of the cryptic words, and Aizawa sighed.

“We’re at the dorms. In your room,” he explained, and gradually, the hardness in Todoroki’s face started disappearing. He nodded curtly, and though he comprehended Aizawa’s words, there was still a lingering confusion in his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Why are you here?”

“To check on you,” he answered truthfully.

“Oh.” A pause. “I’m fine.”

The response came like it was automatic, and Aizawa had a bad feeling that it was for Todoroki.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Okay. Tired, I guess.”

“Your injuries?”

“Recovery Girl said I could come back. She said I needed to rest.”

That was probably the understatement of the century, but Aizawa bit his tongue.

“You should,” he said instead. “Really, I’m surprised you even woke up when you did. Recovery Girl was thinking of keeping you in overnight surveillance.”

“Oh. I don’t need it, though. I’m fine.”

Again with that.

“You sure about that? You took a pretty big beating back there.”

Something flashed in Todoroki’s eyes, and Aizawa found himself startled when suddenly, the kid’s expression was cold as ice.

“What do you mean by that?”

He was nearly snarling the words, and it felt like such a deviation from his earlier spaced-out, blank tone that Aizawa was reeling before he could stop himself.

“I just mean—” he started, but choked on his words when he saw Todoroki’s fists clenched in his lap.

They were shaking.

Taking a deep breath, Aizawa leaned back a little more, pulling out of Todoroki’s breathing space with what he hoped was an inoffensive shrug.

“You worked hard out there today. You should make sure that you’re really okay. It’s not good to get careless and shoulder extra burdens on your own if you’re not actually healed completely yet. Poor recovery will only slow you down in lessons.”

“Oh.”

Just like that, the iciness in Todoroki’s eyes was fading slowly, the line of tension melting away as his trembling ceased.

“I’ll make sure to get plenty of rest tonight,” he said, voice earnest even with his deadpan. “Thank you for your concern, sensei.”

It was a tacit dismissal if Aizawa had ever heard one, and he was more than happy to take it. Nodding to himself lightly, he pushed himself up to a standing position and brushed off some imaginary dirt from his jumpsuit.

“Go to bed,” he commanded. “There’s a break in your remedial lesson schedule this week, so you can sleep in as much as you’d like.”

“Understood—”

“When you do wake up, though,” Aizawa interrupted, staring down sharply at Todoroki as he spoke, “I’d like to speak with you regarding… a few things.”

Todoroki wasn’t ready to talk. That much Aizawa knew for certain, and there was no way he was going to try and force it now. Delicacy was hardly his greatest skill, but he knew it was what he needed now more than ever if he was ever going to help Todoroki.

He pursed his lips together when he saw Todoroki break eye contact with him then, dropping his gaze to look at the floor pointedly. That harsh stare sprinkled with twinges of fear and disdain was gone now, but so was his expression of vacant disinterest. In its place stood a curious look, one of shame and contrition that Aizawa wasn’t used to seeing on Todoroki’s face.

“I can’t,” Todoroki said finally, quiet enough that Aizawa strained his ears to hear it.

“What?”

“I…tomorrow, I’m going out. To the hospital, to… to visit my mother.”

Right.

Aizawa internally grimaced at his own oversight. He had been the one to give Todoroki the explicit permission to leave campus, after all. Tomorrow was going to be one of the only Sundays Todoroki and Bakugou had off from remedial lessons, and so Todoroki had almost immediately put in a request to leave campus that day. He’d already explained it was to visit family, and Aizawa had approved it with question.

Thinking back on it, he’d approved it the same day he’d approved Endeavor’s guest lesson.

If only he'd known what would come to play. Had Todoroki? 

“After you get back then,” he said easily, waiting for Todoroki to give him a small nod. It wasn’t enthusiastic agreement, but it was probably the best he was going to get for now.

Aizawa made his way over to Todoroki’s door in silence, only to pause and hover his hand above the door knob.

“Tod…Shouto.”

He glanced back to see Todoroki’s shoulders tense up once again. Swallowing heavily, Aizawa’s eyes flickered back to the doorknob as he spoke again.

“We… There’s nothing I want to do but help you. Whatever happens, you come to me. You’re allowed to ask for help when you need it, you’re allowed to rely on me. I’m here to make sure you—”

“I’m fine, sensei.”

The mechanical response had Aizawa screaming internally, his whole mind yelling at him to turn around and talk some sense into that boy. To show him that he clearly wasn’t fine, no matter what offhanded dismissals he’d been taught to give. To explain to him that he deserved to be not okay for once, to not be so distant and composed and unaffected all the time. To convince him that he needed to open up, to unveil even his most painful truths, because only then would he be able to receive the help that he so desperately needed.

But instead, Aizawa simply turned the doorknob.

“Good night, Shouto.”

Todoroki wasn’t ready to talk, but soon enough he would be.

“Good night, sensei.”

And when he was, Aizawa would be there to listen to every word.