Work Text:
In a small room in the Yuuei dorms sat a small girl, no longer alone, but certainly not healed.
In a classroom miles away stood a teacher, happily lecturing her students while worries of her family floated in the back of her head.
In Yuuei’s class 1-A, class was close to ending.
Aizawa Shouta was listening in on the students conversations without an air of interest, reviewing the psych evaluation of a young girl who was in his care. She was being watched by Togata, but he knew that more things were necessary for her to be properly raised.
“Todoroki-Kun, your sister’s a teacher, right?”
If the students didn’t quiet down or get out of his class soon he was going to lose it. It was only homeroom, he had no idea how they had so much energy already. He didn’t even have that much energy and was longing to crawl to sleep.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know how anyone has the patience to be a teacher.”
Shouta’s eyes slipped up, glaring at Uraraka for a moment. Her and everyone else in their group was unaware of the sick irony within her statement.
“She’s really good with kids, or anyone.”
Now, Shouta knew the Todoroki family was clearly severely flawed, so hearing that was surprising. He wasn’t going to sit and eavesdrop, but the words had made their way to his ears anyways. To think that anyone related to Endeavor could be good with kids, ‘or anyone’, was shocking.
“That’s so cool! What grade does she teach?”
“Uh, I think seven or six year olds?”
Shouta began to listen in on their conversation, glancing at the photo of a six year old girl within her file.
“Yikes.”
“She’s just good with kids. I think she used to tutor them before she was a teacher, or something.”
Shouta was out of the room instantly, breezing to get Todoroki’s file and then find his sister's. There was a young, healing girl who needed a teacher. One who wouldn’t pry, and one who would be caring and helpful.
He had been disappointed when he couldn’t pull together even a file of clear evidence on what was wrong with the Todoroki family, and Endeavor’s obviously rash actions. But, he could certainly try to pull together a file on the only daughter of the family to see if she could teach a young girl in need.
It wasn’t abnormal for the Todoroki household to be throwing surprises at its members.
It was normal for those surprises to be more like hurtles, just another one to pass and live through. For any unexpected thing within the Todoroki household to be actually positive was unheard of, save for surprises that only seemed grand to the mind of a small child who had not yet learned the harsh truths of the household.
So, when Endeavor began speaking to his only daughter and eldest living child in more than necessary situations for the first time since she had been a child, it was certainly a surprise.
Fuyumi had been waiting for it to turn into a hurdle.
The strange part was that it never did. It had started in small increments, with him thanking her for dinner and asking how her day was. Her answers were always stiff and awkward, waiting for the catch, the news of Moms never getting out, You need to move out, Shouto’s moving back. It never came.
Then came the day when he sat down across from her at the table for dinner, one which she had been eating alone at for quite some time. She could do nothing but stare at him curiously for a moment, not daring to hope that something was actually changing for the good.
He’d made stiff conversation, and she reciprocated with hesitant eagerness. The last time she had eagerly spoken to her father she had been eight, desperate to tell someone about the exciting day she had, and he had acted as if she had just broken the worst rule in the house.
When he asked about her students, she accidentally perked up. She loved to talk about them, and began to dump out information about them. Every minute or so she’d remember who she was talking to and pause, only to look up and see waiting eyes.
That routine had continued without an explanation, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about that. Her father was talking to her, acknowledging her, for the first time since she had been a toddler who literally needed that acknowledgement. She hated that she couldn’t help but wonder if it was because she had finally made something of her life, outside of her family.
Those thoughts always left her empty and sick, repulsed by the small attention her father gave her. It didn’t erase years of growing up alone, trying to take care of everything else in the house because no one else would. It didn’t erase any of it, but she couldn’t help but hope that he was on the way to fixing it.
She could never help but hope for anything.
It was a Tuesday, two weeks after the first day that her father had spoken to her out of the blue. Two weeks of dinners that she wasn’t alone for and a hope within her that was almost worth those years of smothering it, as if anything could really make up for it all.
She had to stay late for a meeting, and she’d gotten caught up with a student. He was going through things at home, and she was trying to work him through it in an attempt to alleviate it, and she planned to reach out to as many resources as she possibly could the moment that she got the time.
She’d finally been walking to the front office to leave, unfortunately getting caught in a conversation with her coworker just before she reached it. All she wanted was to get home and sink into the couch with a warm cup of tea, but the world had very different plans for her. She had twenty-seven tests to grade, along with classwork from three days prior. It was all piling up rather quick, though it thankfully kept her from sitting around all day wallowing in her own thoughts.
Her coworker had finally broken away from her, leaving her to walk up to the office, when she saw an informal man standing at the front desk. He looked rather familiar, but she couldn't put a name to the face.
He had unkept black hair, wearing all black clothes with some sort of scarf around his neck. She slowed, not wanting to pass without some sort of acknowledgement, but she just could not place where she had seen him at. Worry swelled through her, wondering if he had been a professor at her college, or one of her previous bosses from old part time jobs?
His eyes landed on her, and she saw him straighten in acknowledgement. She gave a typical friendly smile, deciding that she could pretend to remember who he was until he gave some sort of hint. Then, he pulled out a license from his pocket, flashing it in front of her as a hero license.
And a fresh wave of panic rushed up to take her breath away, remembering the man in question. He was Eraserhead, Shouto’s teacher at Yuuei. Questions were making their way through her head, worrying for her brothers safety.
“Todoroki-San, I’m Eraserhead, your younger brother's teacher at Yuuei,” she cut him off before he could finish.
“Is Shouto alright? Did something happen?”
He glared at her for a moment, but she couldn’t be bothered to care for her impudent words. She knew that she was listed as an emergency contact for Shouto, but she wasn’t typically used as one, not when Endeavor was right there. Though, if he was too busy or out of reach, then it made sense for Eraserhead to reach out to her. She couldn’t piece together why he was coming to her workplace directly, unless something really bad had happened, and her heart felt like it was going to leap out of its chest because not another one gone.
“Nothing has happened at Yuuei, your brother and the students are fine. I’m here to speak to you.”
All of her worries ceased to a stop, as if dropping off a very steep drop. The panic that had swelled within her shrank, and she could only blink at him for a few moments. She had no clue why a pro hero, and Yuuei teacher, would be there to speak to her. She may have been one of Shouto’s emergency contacts but she certainly was not the one who got to make any decisions for him.
“To me? May I ask why?”
“It’s a long answer, do you have a classroom or something?”
It clicked in her head that this was a meeting of sorts. She had no clue what it was for, and it briefly registered in her head that this could be the cost of her fathers sudden attention. Whatever was happening, it was the only logical conclusion.
“I do, you can follow me,” she said, readjusting her bag on her shoulder and turning around.
He wordlessly followed, and she couldn’t help but wonder what her father had done. It had been made perfectly clear as a child that she wasn’t to even question anything along the lines of heroics past the borders of what the public was shown. Every time she had peeked around the corner of the training room, every time she asked if Shouto was okay after training. It was made very, very clear.
She could already hear Natsuo’s anger at the puzzle pieces connecting in her head, Endeavor only using her for heroics when it was convenient for him. She always imagined her anger coming from Natsu, personifying itself as if he was sitting on her shoulder giving it to her. Once she had imagined it coming from Touya, but she had long since smothered that feeling away.
As she stepped back into her classroom, she remembered that warm cup of tea she had been imagining, mentally mourning the free time she had been desperately hoping to make time for. She grabbed one of the nicer chairs from the wall, dragging it to the opposite side of her desk for Eraserhead as she set her own bag back down.
“It’s nice to finally meet Shouto’s teacher, he’s clearly learned a lot from you,” she said, the words mechanically coming from her mouth as if Shouto hadn’t been taught ruthlessly by Endeavor.
It wasn’t a complete lie, but Shouto didn’t tell her enough specifics for her to know if Eraserhead truly was helping him. She knew that he certainly didn’t need any combat help.
“Thank you, but I’m not here to talk about your brother, or any of my current students.”
Her heart pounded, regretting ever giving into those conversations with her father. The man in front of her was unreadable, his face stoic and his eyes firm.
“I’m all ears,” she smiled, because she always smiled, never showed any of it, she couldn’t.
“I’ve heard that you’re a teacher, and you give specific consideration for every students feelings, and you’re regarded as the teacher that can help students in more than strictly curricular activity. I also read that you have history tutoring, from kids ages five to eight?”
That was not exactly what she had expected. Some sort of evaluation of her teaching abilities, it seemed. It all sounded positive, but she couldn’t gauge the reason for it.
“Yes, that’s true, also occasionally nine to ten year olds. May I ask the reason that you know all of this, and what it’s leading up to?” she cautioned.
He didn’t miss a beat, “This has nothing to do with heroics, or Endeavor. I might have a tutoring job offer, but I need you to sign a non-disclosure agreement before I can reveal many details. Before that, I want to know exactly what kind of teacher you are.”
What kind of teacher she is? The detail about a non-disclosure agreement was equally curious and worrying, and all of it for a job offer? And Endeavor wasn’t even involved? It felt like something out of both her nightmares and dreams, some sort of sick combination due to the fact that she couldn’t tell if Eraserhead was lying at all.
“I can do that, and explain my teaching methods, but you’re saying Endeavor has absolutely no part in this?”
“I’ve spoken to Endeavor a total of maybe five times in my career, none within the last month. This is coming directly from me, for the well being of a child.”
He’d clearly read about her, so he could have been saying it on purpose to pique her interest, but she would do anything for the well being of a child. It was the easiest way to get her explaining every method she uses for teaching or tutoring with her students, along with the care she takes for any issues that they might have, any how she can solve them.
It was half an hour later when she’d finished explaining, and he seemed content with her answer, pulling a folded paper out of his ridiculously large pocket and putting it on her messy desk. She must have answered however he wanted, because a quick scan of the paper proved it to be the agreement that she had to sign.
She took care reading it, checking every corner or small detail that could possibly screw her over. Eraserhead had said her father was in no way involved, but she had no way of knowing how much more corrupt the hero world was then what she had seen. They covered up any evidence of what her father had done, and that was enough to leave her suspicious.
The text in the agreement was catered to protect a child, that much she could tell. There were police references along with hero references, only some of which names she recognized. It seemed clear of anything that could come back to damn her, so she hesitantly signed off after reading it for an obnoxiously long time. Eraserhead didn’t seem to mind, content to stare at the wall behind her, posted with her degree, a few recent photos of her and her siblings, and some drawings gifted to her by her students.
“Here you go,” she said, handing the unfolded paper back to him.
“Signing this doesn’t mean that you automatically get the job, it just means I can consider you.”
“That's alright, I wouldn’t take a job that I didn’t know the requirements and features of, anyways.”
He continued staring blankly at her, before fishing another, smaller, piece of paper out of his pocket. He handed it over, revealing it to be a photo of a young girl. She observed it, noting the small horn on the right side of her forehead. Her eyes were large and red, and a small, though clearly hesitant smile was on her face. She was adorable.
“That is Eri. She was recently saved by a team of heroes, along with some Yuuei students, from a Yakuza organization. They were harming her to make weapons using her quirk, which is called rewind, and is a mutation which allows her to rewind a persons body back to previous states, even dangerously so. She is six, though severely behind in every educational standpoint due to a harsh upbringing so far.”
Fuyumi willed away any tears threatening to spill to her eyes as she processed his words. She looked back at the picture that she was still holding, one of such a sweet, lovely girl. No one deserved such pain, and she felt sick thinking about the horrors she must have endured. She was glad that she was able to be rescued, unlike so many children, but that didn't mean that her past would go away.
“You want me to teach her?” she asked quietly, handing the photo back.
“I want someone capable to teach her. Someone who will not be scared of her quirk, and knows how to deal with psychologically damaged children without multiplying her trauma.”
In her mind it made perfect sense for him to come to her. Of course it was different, as any persons situation was, but she had gotten through the own hell of her childhood and was now overly astute to any signs of abuse or neglect in children, and also how to help with it. Having once been the scared child, when no one ever helped her, was capable of dealing with such fragile emotions delicately.
Yet, she couldn’t tell why he had known to come to her. Of course she knew that she was perfect for this sort of thing, with experience with it from growing up, along with helping Natsuo. There were also her visits to her mother, which had helped teach her the sort of things to avoid saying, and how to move the conversation around them if they did come up. But Eraserhead did not know all of that, excluding what he could have read in a file. Files did not convey everything, though.
“I’m perfectly capable, but why are you asking me? I’m sure there’s plenty of child psychologists who could teach basic subjects to a child."
He glared daggers at her, as if willing her to continue the question. She was standing on the edge of a cliff, and she felt like she could fall off at any moment, but she had to know. The worst of the damage in their household was long done, and it had been going on when she had been a teenager. Younger than Shouto, but if effected her well past his age. Though, Shouto was more stoic and better at masking his emotions than she could ever have taught herself to be.
It was a selfish question, with selfish reasons. She’d never ask a regular employer why they wanted her for a job, she’d make the smart decision to leap at the decision, especially if it gave her a chance to help a child. She was possibly turning away the opportunity, but she simply had to know.
“I read that you have helped several children out of dangerous homes, going as far as to find better situations for them, and tutoring or driving them home yourself. And, a sixteen year old kid typically doesn’t just hate their heroic father so passionately without a reason, but I believe that isn’t my business.”
The fourteen year old girl within her wanted to scream that it was his business, it was every hero that ever pledged to save peoples business. It was the commissions business, and it was her old teacher's business, and it was any person who wasn’t too scared and incapable to help's business. Anyone who ever had a single scrap of human decency should have cared, threatening to go against every expensive lawyer that was impossible to beat if even for the fraction of a chance to help four, three, kids out.
She was not a fourteen year old girl, though, and she had long since learned that things did not work that way. Her family could not be so fortunate. Instead of protesting, she nodded, sliding the photo across the desk.
“You’re right,” she paused, “What are the hours, requirements, payments, and benefits of this job?
At nearly eight in the afternoon Fuyumi was finally getting home, dinner ingredients bagged in her car, along with the copious amounts of student work to be graded in her bag. She had a new thing on her agenda for the following week, but first she had to get through her main job. What she did know was that her days were going to get a lot more busy, and that three days a week she likely would not be home for dinner at a decent time.
She staggered into the house, holding her large work bag and a collection of groceries. It didn’t take long for her to get settled, beginning on dinner while looking through her schedule, figuring out how to arrange things.
It had turned out that Yuuei paid very generously, even for a tutor who would only work three days a week, only for a few hours each day. It had been enough to sell her on the concept completely, throwing out any worries she had for her busy schedule. She had already planned to accept, even if they were hardly paying her at all. That little girl needed help, and Fuyumi desperately wanted to give it.
It didn’t take long to make dinner, but the day had really tired her out. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she had so much work to do that made her want to go to sleep early. It had been a very long time since she’d stayed at school so late, excluding any events that required her presence. She always knew about those far ahead of time, and could make herself two lunches and have ingredients prepared at home for dinner.
She was finally able to sit down at the table, and a surprise went through her when her father sat down in his designated seat. It had been two weeks of the routine, but she still wasn’t accustomed to it, and she wasn’t sure if she would ever be.
For a moment she felt sick to be sitting across from him, in such a mundane way, after everything. The conversation with Eraserhead had pulled up old thoughts in her head, ones which she had sworn that she moved on from, even if she never would.
Thoughts about things she couldn’t do anything about. She had moved on from that when she was twelve, watching teachers look away from Touya and Shouto’s bruises and burns, because if they dared to do anything about it then a dark fate awaited them. It was sick, and it made her feel repulsed. Nothing was as bad as it once had been, and what was done was done. Shouto was in dorms, and his home training had decreased significantly, anyways.
It wasn’t Eraserhead's business, but it should have been. The man clearly was not an idiot, and he could probably tell something was wrong from the beginning of the year. Things had still been bad, then.
It took a lot to go up against the number two hero, but Eraserhead was a hero himself. Except, Fuyumi had known for an unfortunately long time that heroes did not help everyone.
The man couldn’t have done anything, and he was smart enough to know that. It’d be stupid to make an attempt. Fuyumi couldn’t hold any ill will towards him for taking the logical route, but her stomach still churned with contempt as she thought about it.
“How was your day?” her dad asked.
Eraserhead had said that her dad wasn’t involved with the job offer, and she wanted to keep it that way. It wasn’t his business, and she wasn’t getting involved with hero affairs. It was a young girl in Yuuei’s care, for safety, and she was going to to tutor her. Endeavor had no business in it.
“Long, but good.”
He nodded, clearly unsure of what to say next. Sometimes she wished that she wasn’t the only one speaking and putting in any effort, but her wishes never came true.
“I got a tutoring job, so I’ll be home much later three days a week starting next week. I won’t be able to make dinner for you, unless you plan on eating later. I can’t promise a time.”
He blinked at her, “That’s alright, I’ll get my own food.”
There was no bitterness to it, not like that time she’d been harshly asked why she didn’t make dinner for Shouto— only Shouto— the night of her high school graduation. She supposed that Shouto wasn’t in the house anymore, but couldn’t help but wonder if she would have gotten the same calm answer if he was.
Her mind was too clouded to really have a conversation, so she rushed through dinner and explained how much work she had to do. She usually didn’t sit and dwell on irritation towards her father, but the thoughts were fresh in her mind. When she finally sat down in her room to work, she was tempted to close her eyes and nap right there.
She did not do that, instead she sat and focused, like a good teacher would. Like a good student, like a good daughter, teacher, tutor, the list went on.
She couldn’t create any lesson ideas for Eri until she had assessed what she did know. Once she finished grading her students work, she sat on the floor and pulled out an empty binder, grabbing as much colorful supplies as she could. She didn’t know what would overwhelm her, but it was best to come prepared. She didn’t want to sit her in front of a stuffy, formal test, so instead she’d make a fun way to assess her.
It was late, and she was exhausted, but it was much more fun than grading papers. It was something that Fuyumi actually enjoyed, getting to plan out things while trying to make it as fun for the students as possible. Even with the mess of scrap paper and ink that she ended up making, she figured that she never truly grew out of being a little kid. Perhaps it was because as a little kid she never got the chance to do such things.
The clock showed that it was after midnight when she finally went to sleep, finished with everything she had to do. She wondered idly how her brothers were doing, and if they were both at their dorms safe.
The next six days went by swiftly, with her schedule not deviating from normalcy. She visited her mother twice, Natsuo coming one of the times. She explained the tutoring job to her mom, leaving out select details, and then had listened after she explained it fully to Natsuo while he tried to talk her out of it. He realized two minutes into his complaining that she wasn’t going to give it up, sparing them both a lot of wasted time.
Eventually the next Tuesday arrived, and she was walking out of her classroom at the same time as her other students. Her timeframe to grade her classes work had just shrunk tremendously, but she knew that there was still a chance for her to get turned away from Eri. She had already planned at least a month of working her schedule around it, so she hoped that she wouldn’t be pushed away.
Yuuei had offered to send a driver to take her to and from their premises, likely for safety reasons, but she denied. She kept most of her schoolwork in her car for a reason, and she was planning on bringing it in case Eri was ever busy and she could get some of it done during their sessions. She also wasn’t much of a fan of sitting in a car with a chauffeur who usually wasn’t talkative, making it an awfully awkward silence.
That was why she ended up driving the thirty minute drive to Yuuei on her own. It wasn’t as if it was a long drive, only across most of Musutafu. The school was rather out of the way, a fair distance from the city, that of which she was on the opposite side of.
She had driven longer drives. Natsuo’s college was forty minutes away, and her moms hospital was twenty. All in all, she had always been paying a lot more for gas than she wanted to. That number would only go up with her trips to Yuuei, but with their generous paychecks it wouldn’t matter. That was, if she did actually get the job.
Her worries were tucked away when she saw the gates of the school, something that she doubted was only the beginning of the extensive security measures that they surely had. She spoke to the guard at the front, who was awfully suspicious of her. It turned out that Eraserhead had thankfully put her name down for the time, and she was only a little bit early.
The Yuuei school hours were only just ending, having perfectly matched with her driving time and when her school got out. She saw students through the windows, letting herself smile at the knowledge that Shouto was in there, safe and with his friends.
The guard had told her to find Eraserhead, saying he’d be in his classroom. She was a bit surprised that Yuuei of all places wasn’t more formal, such as a waiting room or designated place for her to meet Eri.
It was a bit difficult to make her way through the halls with students all throughout them, clearly having just gotten out of classes. She saddened a bit when she got to class 1-A and didn’t run into Shouto, part of her hoping to see him at his school. She knocked, before opening the very large classroom door without a response. It was the routine in her workplace, and she couldn’t imagine that Yuuei was too different. Heroics or not, it was still a school.
When she hesitantly opened the door she found two people. One was Eraserhead, looking as joyful as ever, and one was clearly a student. She thought that she might recognize him from the sports festival, but his name wasn’t one that she remembered. His hair was yellow, with a lightning bolt mark on it.
“Sorry,” she cringed, going to shut the door and retreat into the hall after intruding.
“You can come in,” Eraserhead drawled, the student stepping back from his desk.
“You’re Todoroki’s sister,” the student practically leaped to say, a grin on his face.
Eraser glared at the kid, “Kaminari-Kun.”
“Yep, thanks for the help Sensei,” he turned to Fuyumi again, “But you’re Todoroki-Kun’s sister, right?”
She raised her brows, feeling Eraserhead’s glare of disapproval at his student. She couldn’t imagine he was a fun teacher, nor a fun coworker. Though, the teachers were all heroes, so it probably worked a bit differently than her own job did.
“Yes, I am.”
“Oh, shoot, is he in trouble?”
“Kaminari-Kun, you are dismissed.”
He turned to look at his teacher, his face morphing into one of light fear, before bowing halfway and running out. If Fuyumi knew how high schoolers worked at all— she really didn’t— she’d figure he was going to find Shouto. She hoped that he didn’t think he was in trouble. It’s not as if he’d figure her the one to come to school for him, anyways.
She looked around the room, noting the larger than normal desks, along with the comfortable chairs. She resisted the urge to gawk, because every student had the same chair that she had at her personal desk. At least they were comfortable, she supposed, though she still couldn’t believe it. There wasn’t much else to expect from such a prestigious school.
“Good afternoon,” she said first, watching as Eraserhead flipped through a file he had pulled out.
“Here,” he handed it out, “Eri’s psych evaluation. You’ll need to read it before you can see her, according to professionals.”
Straight to business, then.
“Alright.”
He went back to whatever he was working on, so she took the chance to sit at the student desk closest to her and begin to look through it. The desk was nearly the size of her own work desk, or it may have just seemed that way due to her own being so cluttered.
As she read through the file her heart sank, seeing the awful state that the girl was left in. If she could be part of that improvement, then she’d jump at the chance. It states that she had already improved largely since being rescued, which was relieving. She was still more damaged than any young child should be, but any progress was good progress.
She did notice that her birthday was in a month, holding in a smile as she hoped she would be able to work with her that long. She had no clue what to expect, and reading a file didn't equate to the experience of interacting with her. It did thankfully tell her the topics to strictly avoid, something she had read in her mothers file many times, just to be sure.
It didn’t take long, and soon she was standing up and placing it back on Eraserhead’s desk. She felt like a student submitting work, and it was slightly unsettling.
He glanced at it before standing, his chair squeaking on the floor as he walked out of the room, leaving the door open for her to follow. Eraser was such a strange man, but she supposed that a hero and teacher probably didn’t have much free time. Nevertheless, she was accustomed to dealing with people who actually put the effort in to use manners.
Halfway down the hall he turned around, glancing at her before asking, “You have a car, right?”
“Pardon?”
“The place she’s staying at is a rather long walk, it’s easier if we could drive.”
She wondered briefly why he had her come to the main school in that case, before giving up and deciding that nothing was ever normal when she was around heroes.
“Yes, I can drive us there.”
She’d be damned if she let a near stranger drive her perfectly unscratched car.
Eraserhead continued to lead them to the parking lot, eventually going out of the doors and crossing over the grass. She had tried not to do so, considering it all looked so nice, but she wasn’t going to be obnoxious and take the sidewalk while following someone else. Especially a teacher there, if he did it then surely it was fine.
“Fuyumi-Oneesan?” a voice called from a distance, causing her to pause and look over.
Shouto was standing in a group with a bunch of other students, all of them in gym uniforms. One was Midoriya Izuku, who Shouto seemed to be closest with, and the others names were beyond her even as she recognized them from the sports festival. Kaminari, the kid with the yellow hair, was there with him, bragging about being right.
Eraserhead had also paused in front of her, clearly trying to avoid the confrontation between her and her brother, one which would waste a good bit of time.
“Why are you here?” he asked before she could say anything in response.
“She’s here for a tutoring job,” Eraser said for her, beginning to walk ahead.
She looked between him and the group of students, “Yeah, uh, that. I gotta go, but I can talk to you later, if you want!”
All she could do was toss up a hand and wave, speeding up to try to catch up to Eraser, who was already nearing the parking lot. It was as if he had purposefully walked faster when she was stopped, but that was probably a bit too far. She tossed a glance back at the group of students, where Shouto was still staring, confused, and the others were talking excitedly around him.
It was nice to see Shouto in such a friendly environment, surrounded by people who clearly cared about him. It wasn’t a dangerous training session, or a forced class, it was just him outside with some friends, probably looking to practice something with their quirks or skills. She couldn’t name a single time in her life she had seen him in such a carefree place by choice, and it was enough to fill her with warmth, even as she got into her car and drove based off the instructions that Eraserhead gave her.
The building Eri was staying in wasn’t far at all, but it certainly would’ve been a bit of a walk. In the freezing weather, she didn’t exactly want to make that journey, especially not with her school supplies and purse on her arm.
Yet, finally, Eraserhead was leading her down a hallway, not unlike an apartment building. He passed by a door clearly marked with Aizawa on the side. She supposed it made sense for the teachers to have dorms, for the students’ safety. It clicked in her head that Eraserhead had said that Eri was under his care, which meant that it made sense for her to be in the Yuuei teacher dorms.
He arrived at an unmarked door, knocking on it carefully. Fuyumi lingered behind him, hearing somebody come up and unlock it, hoping that Eri wasn’t there alone. It was irrational to think, not with all of the care they’d taken in making sure she was safe and able to even meet the girl, but her thoughts jumped to that conclusion.
Instead, a blonde haired man opened the door, a large smile on his face. He couldn’t have been older than Natsuo, but he was already there when classes had just let out. She didn’t quite understand, but he looked friendly, so she shelved her questions for a later date.
“Aizawa! And Todoroki-San! Wow, you actually look a good bit like your brother.”
Her eyebrows raised, because that wasn’t something that she heard often. Or, ever, actually. People remarked on her and Natsuo’s similar looks, and especially how similar she looked to her mom. But she hadn’t been near Shouto and others enough to actually hear it, and she’d never even considered it. It was heartwarming.
“Hello,” she smiled, unsure of who this was, though he was presumably watching Eri.
“Aizawa?” a small voice chirped from within the door.
Fuyumi had only met Eraserhead twice, but she could still assume that the way his face softened and he surged into the room wasn’t something that happened often. The blonde man turned around, smiling wide, before remembering Fuyumi was there and ushering her in.
Across the room on the couch, sure enough, was the girl from the picture. The horn on her head was much bigger than it had been in the photo, and she was smiling without a hint of worry. She had an admittedly ugly sweater on, but it looked adorable on her. She was an adorable little girl.
“She’s great,” the blonde man said to Fuyumi, staring at her as she talked excitedly to Eraserhead.
“Seems like it. May I ask who you are?”
He swiveled to face her, “Oh! I’m Togata, I take care of Eri-Chan whenever everyone else can’t.”
“Nice to meet you, Togata-San. Are you a hero, or?” she felt slightly invasive asking, but he was just a random presence, and Eri’s file said she had no current family she was in touch with.
“You too! And, well, I’m a third year here at Yuuei, but my classes are on hold due to some stuff. So, I spend my time with Eri-Chan!”
The young girl perked up at her name, her smile dropping at the sight of Fuyumi. She settled a small, friendly smile onto her face, giving a slight wave. She wasn’t sure if Eraserhead, or Togata, wanted her to introduce herself. It was clear Eri wasn’t going to speak, still holding a drawing of hers while she looked to the two adults that she trusted.
“Eri-Chan, this is your teacher, Todoroki-San!”
“Hi Eri-Chan,” she walked the short distance to the couch, tapping the coffee table before deciding it was firm enough to sit on, right across from Eri.
The young girl pulled her hands closer to her chest, the drawing falling into her lap. Fuyumi made it clear she wasn’t rushed to answer, relaxing her shoulders and looking around the room. It was nice, but not thoroughly decorated. She wondered if Eri just sat in there for the day, while she actually stayed with someone else.
“You’re Deku’s friend?” Eri asked after a moment.
Fuyumi didn’t let her smile drop, though her eyebrows wrinkled up on their own. It took a moment to remember that Deku was Midoriya’s hero name, and Eri apparently knew him. It was heartwarming to know that Midoriya and Shouto were close enough for him to tell Eri about her brother.
She laughed softly, “No, that’s my brother. If you want you can call me Fuyumi, if that’s less confusing.”
“Fuyumi,” she muttered, sounding it out.
Eri glanced to Eraserhead, who was watching the situation very closely. Fuyumi had a feeling that she was being examined, but she didn’t let it raise her nerves. These people knew Eri better than she did, and if she scared her or made her uncomfortable then she wanted to know. The job wasn’t worth making her feel even worse.
“Nice to meet you,” a small smile appeared on Eri’s face.
Fuyumi couldn’t help but beam, “You too!”
She already adored the girl. She was an angel, one who deserved the entire world and then some. Fuyumi was looking forward to teaching her, watching her learn what she could become, if she was given the chance.
After a bit more introductions and approval from everyone in the room, Eraserhead left. Togata stayed, likely for the comfort of Eri, and Fuyumi had no qualms about it. If it made her feel more safe than there was nothing wrong with that.
“Could I sit next to you on the couch? I’m not sure I’m supposed to be sitting on the table,” she asked Eri, finally letting her bag off of her shoulder, falling onto the hard surface.
She only nodded.
Fuyumi switched seats, sitting a fair distance from her but not far enough that it made her seem afraid. She kept herself perfectly relaxed, turning to Eri.
“So, do you know exactly why I’m here with you?”
She shook her head.
“Well, I’m a teacher, for lots of kids your age at a school. I love my job, because I get to teach people things like math, reading, writing, history, and some other things. I’m hoping I can teach you some of those things, too.”
Eri stared at her for a moment, “I don’t know much of that, though.”
“That’s okay! That is why I’m here, to help you learn it.”
“Okay,” she looked at Fuyumi, then at her bag, “What’s in there?”
Fuyumi turned to her bags, one of which was her purse, the other holding all of her school work and supplies. Most of it was from her students, but there was a rather heavy binder in it that she had been working on for the past week, specifically for Eri.
“Well, that one is my purse, which I take everywhere, and the other has all of my school supplies! Would you like to see?”
She had already tilted her purse slightly, noticing how Eri leaned forward to see what was in it. It was an unorganized mess of her wallet and any other things she deemed necessary to take with her, and seeing how Eri squinted was like a reminder of how much she needed to organize it.
When Eri nodded at her question, she moved back on the couch, making more space between her and Eri for the school bag. She set it in-between them, watching as she once again leaned over and looked inside of it, even as Fuyumi picked items out.
“These are folders, and they hold all of my students work. There’s a few for different subjects, and they’re all separated to which I have graded and which I haven’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have to go over their work and figure out if it’s right, otherwise I’d never know if they’re learning or not. But that takes a lot of time, so I organized it like this to be easier.”
Eri’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ shape, “Okay.”
“This is my pencil pouch, it has all of my markers and pens, which are really fun to use.”
Eri’s interest finally peaked, looking in, her hand reaching up before halting harshly. Fuyumi nodded, handing her the pouch, watching as she took one of her brighter markers out.
“Can I use this?”
“Of course.”
She leaned forward to the coffee table, drawing a simple line on the corner of one of her papers. Her face practically lit up, and Fuyumi could have sworn her heart burst at the sight. She’d never tire of kids and their automatic amazement of anything colorful or sparkly.
She repeated the process a few times, pulling out different pens and markers, even a few stray colored pencils, and then testing them on her paper. It was endearing, even with Fuyumi just watching. The way her face morphed based on if she liked the writing utensil of choice was adorable.
“Oh, you’re left handed!”
Concern crossed Eri’s face, “What?”
“It’s not a bad thing, don’t worry. It just means that you use your left hand to write. I use my right!” she stuck up her right hand, wiggling her fingers as if she was writing.
Eri glanced at her hand, and the pen still in it.
“That’s my left hand?”
“Yep! Here, stick out your thumb and the finger next to that, and it makes an ‘L’. That’s how you can remember which side is left, and the other one is right.”
Her face morphed into one of absolute shock, holding her half opened hand out in front of her, dropping the pen. Fuyumi stuck the pencil pouch back on the coffee table, figuring that specific interest had been discovered and that they should probably move on. She waited until Eri looked back at her, her finger still making an ‘L’, with a smile on her face before she actually began to pull the next thing out.
“Thank you,” Eri said.
“You don’t need to thank me for that, that is why I am here. To teach you all sorts of fun things!”
And then she smiled. It wasn’t the light grin from before, it was wide, toothy smile full of the joy and amazement of a child. Fuyumi was already so happy to be there, allowing her to grin like that. She was sure one of the other adults who clearly cared about her could have gotten her to smile like that, but it was refreshing to see. It was actual progress in a little girl, moving forward from a horrifying thing. It was absolutely beautiful, and completely worth the shift in her schedule.
Throughout the next hour Fuyumi showed Eri everything she had put together for her specifically, getting some very confused reactions that she had gone to the trouble just for her. It had taken a good amount of time, but Fuyumi had genuinely enjoyed it, so she made it clear that it was no problem.
Eri did seem to like the bright colors and fun shapes that she had made sure to include on every page, and she was even more excited than Fuyumi had expected to begin answering the questions she had put within all of the fun colors. It took awhile for her to explore it, and then she was answering it all, even writing some of it down by her own choice.
Her eagerness to learn was adorable, especially after Fuyumi had read so many tragic things in the files Eraserhead had given her. Seeing the girl who had clearly made so much progress since she was rescued be so excited about something as mundane as learning was enough to make her heart soar. She wasn’t the type of person who expected everyone to want to learn, or to love learning, but seeing someone enjoying it was beautiful. Not because just she was learning, but because she had been through so much and was still excited for it.
She was certainly very behind for her age, but she was young enough to have room to improve in a short span of time. She also seemed to be picking things up quickly, based off of what Togata had butted in to mention about how quickly she had learned to write and spell.
The session was over all too soon, but Fuyumi’s stomach was beginning to growl and Eri seemed to be getting tired. She was already looking forward to Tuesday and Thursday, the next days that they had scheduled.
Fuyumi had begun to gather her things, though they weren’t too scattered to begin with. Eri looked a bit upset, and Fuyumi could sympathize. By the time she was standing and about to the door, the young girl had stood up.
“Thank you for teaching me, Fuyumi-Sensei.”
Fuyumi kneeled to her height, “Of course! It was a lot of fun, and I can’t wait to come back!”
“You’re coming back?” her face brightened.
“Of course, there’s still so much to teach you! You had fun learning, right?”
She nodded quickly, “Okay. I’m excited for that.”
“Me too. It was nice to meet you, Eri-Chan.”
She smiled that big toothy grin.
Fuyumi stood, “And you too, Togata-Kun.”
“Yep, we’re seeing you tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, I’ll see you then.”
She shut the door herself, walking through the teacher dorm halfway and to her car, where it had begun to rain.
Eri was a really sweet girl, and Fuyumi could not wait to teach her more.