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Iida is known for being a stickler for rules. And it’s true, he knows it— he believes that there is a time and place for rules and regulations and those times and places include almost everywhere, all the time.
But if Iida is anything before a rule follower, before the class president, before the representative for the disaster class that is 1-A, he is a brother. A friend. And he does not think he would trade their class for anything (except maybe Mineta. But if Iida and Momo have anything to say about it, Mineta will be ah, removed from the class soon. Using legal means. And evidence). So— yes, Iida is a little (a lot) protective of the people he loves. After all, he went after Stain for his brother. So as much as he karate chops his way through U.A., and herds his class around, he loves them.
Of his class though, it is Midoriya— Izuku, now— that earns his love and protection first. When Izuku came after him, to save him, from Stain and had looked him in the eyes and said not Iida, not today, Iida thinks that there is very little in this world he would not do to keep Izuku safe. When he had told Iida that it was okay to grieve for Tensei even if Tensei was still around and it was Ingenium that was gone, Iida had felt very small and so Tenya then. And afterwards, he had known with that steady, quiet surety that he would follow Midoriya to the ends of the world, just to see him smile.
Todoroki is the second person who earns that same protection, strangely. Before Uraraka even, because he had answered when Izuku called, and he had not questioned it. And it was because of that that they were alive and Stain hadn’t succeeded. And then afterwards, he had stayed for Izuku, and Tenya knows then, that Todoroki too, would run to the ends of the world and back to keep Izuku safe and whole and happy. It’s easy to slip into friendship after that. All three of them are closer after the incident, though no one quite understands how Tenya and Todoroki get along without Izuku sometimes.
Ever since then, they’ve come far in their friendship, with the addition of Uraraka and Tsuyu. They’ve created their own niche though as a whole, 1-A is probably one of the most tight knit classes in the school (Izuku somehow drags along the purple-haired kid from gen-ed sometimes, though said student always looks like he doesn’t want to be there. When asked, Izuku only says that he will be “joining our class soon, because he is a better replacement for the other one.”)
Tenya doesn’t say it but the other one is definitely Mineta and Izuku somehow knows about Tenya and Momo’s extensive binder of evidence and incidents involving Mineta. He does not question it.
It’s strange, these days. Izuku is quieter and Tenya is not sure how to handle it. Todoroki withdraws with him and Tenya is suddenly left bereft. He watches their closeness disappear, unraveling slowly.
Izuku and Todoroki are attached to each other, in a way that they’ve never quite been. Izuku is also more jumpy than he’s ever been, and there’s that ever persisting quiet in him these days. Todoroki looks similar to how he did in the beginning of the school year, but Tenya is familiar enough with him to spot the protective rage in his eyes for Izuku.
Something happened, but Tenya isn’t sure how to ask what exactly did. He’d bet an arm and a leg though, that it happened at the final exam between Izuku and Bakugou.
Tenya desperately wishes that he knew how to fix this. He also wishes that he had looked a little closer, sooner. Because Bakugou had mellowed out since joining UA. So what had he even been like before?
There’s a moment after a hard training day that makes Tenya wonder now.
“Izuku! That landing looked pretty bad! Is your wrist okay? Are you sure you do not need to see Recovery Girl?” Tenya energetically chops his hands, fussing over Izuku.
“No, no, I’m good, Tenya. I think I just sprained it. I’ll ice it when I get back to the dorm,” Izuku had said, smiling brightly after. Tenya had taken that smile at face value but Todoroki had taken one look at Izuku, narrowed his eyes, and dragged him off to Recovery Girl anyways.
They come back a while later and Izuku is healed up, grinning sheepishly. Todoroki rolls his eyes, somehow exuding stoic exasperation, “This idiot broke his wrist and thought it was ‘just a sprain.’”
Tenya gasps, “Izuku! How do you simply dismiss an injury such as that? You must take care of yourself, even if you break bones far too often!”
Izuku only scratches of his head nervously, “Well, you see, um, broken bones don’t really hurt that much anymore so it doesn’t? Really register? To me that it’s broken? Like I have a really high pain tolerance so it’s sometimes pretty hard to gauge the severity of injuries. I really thought it was just a sprain! You know? It’s not a big deal.”
Tenya’s eyes widen, “Is that from how often you’ve broken your bones with your quirk?”
“No! No!” Izuku scrambles to explain, “Uh, it’s a pre-U.A. thing. I used to get injured a lot before then as well.”
And Tenya hadn’t pushed because he’d started to look so uncomfortable but he SHOULD HAVE. Todoroki’s eyes had been dark and shadowed when he’d heard Izuku’s words and Tenya should have known something was wrong then.
Looking back on it, he cannot understand how he just dismissed it. It’s horrifying. What kind of childhood did you need to have to build up that kind of pain tolerance? That broken bones don’t register as broken?
Tenya knows, knows intensely, with rage, that it is not simply from roughhousing or accidents. Izuku is used to getting hit. Getting burned— and his fights with Bakugou make too much sense then.
Izuku had let him know that he was a late bloomer, which means he must’ve been considered quirkless. And Tenya cannot imagine the depths of his suffering but he knows the world is not kind to those it thinks are different. With a sickly kind of realization, he thinks that maybe the teachers had agreed too. That they did not step up when they should have, and that Izuku’s growing up has always been more of a long list of times adults have failed him. It explains too much about his willingness to break rules, to stay silent and keep secrets.
God, Tenya does not know what exactly Izuku has gone through but he knows this: Izuku is used to getting hurt, to being a second priority for injury. And Tenya rages, with the same pulsing fire of a burning star, because he can imagine little Izuku, curled up, getting hurt and learning how to take it. Alone. So small. Without anyone to protect him.
He burns at the thought, eyes flashing.
It is days after that persistent quiet has settled into the class that Tenya dares approach Izuku’s dorm room.
He knocks quietly, and Todoroki is the one who opens the door, eyes protective.
“Do you need something?” he bites out aggressively.
Tenya lets him have this anger, knowing that asking if he is okay or if Izuku is okay is pointless. Because they so clearly aren’t and Tenya does not know how to fix this,
“ What do you need?” Tenya asks, infinitely gentle, but still steady. He lets Todoroki survey him, before watching something like relief flashes in his eyes and he swings the door open. Tenya only wonders who has come before and asked the wrong questions.
On the bed, Izuku sits, playing with the seam of his blanket. He looks up tiredly, and musters up a smile for Tenya. “Hey Tenya.”
Tenya watches him carefully before sitting on the side of the bed, then opening up his arms. Izuku’s breath hitches before he falls forward into them, clutching at Tenya’s back with familiar crooked fingers. Tenya lets his eyes fall closed, burying half his face into Izuku’s hair. When he opens them again, he sees Todoroki on the other side of the bed, watching them fondly. Tenya holds Izuku tightly, but looks at Todoroki, welcoming him into the hug. Todoroki scoots closer and falls into them both, letting out a sigh as Izuku curls closer to him and he lays his head on Tenya’s shoulder.
A while later, they untangle themselves from each other.
Tenya looks at Izuku seriously, saying, “I have a few questions to ask, and you don’t have to answer but I need to ask them.”
Izuku nods warily.
“So— you told me you were a very, very late bloomer right? So that means you were considered quirkless until right before UA.”
Izuku nods, unsure where this is going.
“And most people don’t treat quirkless people kindly, right?”
Oh, Izuku thinks. Tenya is the first one to ask the questions that matter.
He nods.
“When you were young, did—did the other kids bully you? Like hitting too—“
Izuku smiles sadly, looking down, “Uh, yeah. I got the whole spiel. Insults, yelling, hitting, punching, all the works. Red spider-lilies on my desk. Death threats. Got told to kill myself a lot.”
Todoroki brushes a hand through his hair soothingly as Tenya draws in a sharp breath. Somehow, it’s even worse than he thought.
“And the teachers failed you, didn’t they? They didn’t protect you,” Tenya says, quieter, solemnly.
Izuku nods his head, adding on, “I think some of them even encouraged the other kids.”
Tenya feels rage fly through him before he calms down to ask the next question.
“Bakugou was never your childhood friend, was he?”
Izuku shakes his head no, pausing before carefully turning around. He slips one arm out his t-shirt and lifts it up, showing Tenya his shoulder. And Tenya can see the scar tissue. From burns. He inhaled sharply, understanding quickly that these are from Bakugou and seethes.
Once Izuku gets his t-shirt back on, he turns around to see Tenya’s reaction. Tenya wastes no time, pulling Izuku into another hug.
Tenya finally lets go, asking one final question, “Izuku, did any of the teachers at UA do something?”
Todoroki’s hand comes to rest on Izuku’s shoulder.
“They failed Todoroki first. Then they failed me too.” And Tenya sees the unspoken words, that someone had not done the right thing when they should have. Someone did not ask the right questions. Someone decided it was easier to be comfortable than to confront Todoroki’s and Izuku’s demons. Because Izuku had said something and they had not done enough.
Tenya understands too, that that means he is not getting the full story with Todoroki, who is also hurting. Tenya turns and pulls Todoroki into a hug too.
Izuku pats his arm, with too big eyes, and Tenya lets himself ache for them.
Afterwards, he ushers them both into bed, pulling up the covers and gazing fondly at them as they scoot closer together beneath the covers. Tenya swears that one day, one day, they will both get the chance to finally heal.
He will make sure of it.
“I’ll watch the door for you,” he says, steadfast and protective. He thinks that even if someday, should Izuku forgive Bakugou, or Todoroki forgive whoever is hurting him, it will not be enough. It will never be enough. Tenya will hold this grudge for them, gladly. Sorry will never be enough to make up for how they have hurt the ones he loves.
Tenya finds that he means it when he says that there is very little he would not do to keep Izuku and Todoroki safe.