Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I see you.”

Not sure what to say, Shouto simply blinked at his teacher. He was not quite sure why he was here, what the point of this meeting was for—sitting here in his Sensei’s office, staring silently at one another, all while that god forsaken metronome continued to tick.

Tick, tick, tick—

No, he knew nothing of what was going on. No reason as to why he would be in trouble…nothing recently that could have gotten him into trouble, anyway. He was careful. He made sure to be careful . He could not chance trouble. Trouble brought risks, and he had to keep the risks away. No, all was going right in his life, and all he could tell in this moment was that Aizawa seemed… different .

He was still Aizawa. Still his Sensei. But the way the man sat before him felt very much off . Like he had dropped his guard, dropped a mask, staring at Shouto with these foreign eyes. Shouto felt scrutinized, like a bug under glass, with Aizawa playing the role of the fascinated scientist. Shouto should feel uncomfortable.

Should.

Tick, tick, tick—

Shouto wanted so desperately to break that damn metronome.

Realizing that Shouto was likely not going to reply anytime soon, Aizawa pressed on. “I know your type, Todoroki.” 

Fingers digging ever so slightly into the wooden arms of his chair, this fragile old office chair that looked older than school itself, Shouto allowed his head to tilt just a hair, blinking in confusion, before softly replying, “Oh?”

A smirk tugged at the teacher’s face, just for a moment. Another slip of the mask. Then, the man’s head tilted just the same as Shouto’s had. “Yes. Oh .”

Shouto let the words hang in the air, mulling over his options. What response, what game, what mask to wear for the man who clearly knew how masks worked. Slowly righting the tilt of his head, Shouto carefully asked, “What is my type , Sensei?”

Aizawa slowly righted his head as well, the smirk tugging once more, lingering for a touch longer even. “Your type?” Leaning forward at his desk, Aizawa linked his hands as he rested his elbows on his desk, propping his chin behind his fingers, hiding his mouth, hiding the telling smirk. “Oh, I am very familiar with your type.”

The ticking rang through the air, filling the silence. That damned ticking—

“You’re obsessive.”

Tick, tick, tick—

Shouto’s fingers gripped the chair a little tighter, but he did not move.

“Possessive.”

Tick, tick, tick—

Just a tad tighter .

“And quite frankly…”

Tick, tick, tick—

Shouto’s fingers began to sting from the pressure of gripping the wood—

He could faintly see the smirk tugging at the man’s face yet again .

“ Dangerous .”

A loud crack echoed through the room.

Neither flinched.

Tick, tick, tick—

Shouto ignored how his palms ached, the feeling of blood coating his fingertips. His eyes were too busy remaining locked on the teacher before him, his control focused on stopping his temperature from fluctuating, his mind aimed towards regaining control over the situation. 

“And what makes you say that?” He asked as calmly as he could manage, ignoring that a simple statement had already proved Aizawa’s point. Ignoring that Shouto’s cover was so easily blown—

Tick, tick, tick—

Aizawa’s hand shot forward, snatching up the metronome, raising it high up in the air before violently slamming it on the desk.

Shouto finally flinched .

Aizawa finally grinned .

“It’s hard not to notice something that you stare at in the mirror everyday.”

Shouto wasn’t sure when he turned into this.

Sometimes he thinks that he was always this way, that this coldness in him was normal. 

Then, he remembered Touya.

He remembered feeling warm .

And then Touya died, and he felt the frostbite start to set in, leaving him to resort to clinging to his mother to save what little warmth remained.

Then his mother turned cold too and took his warmth with her.

And that’s when the cold caused his heart to crack .

For years it went on like that. A therapist would likely call it a survival instinct. Shouto just called himself broken. He did not really mind. The sharp cracks in his heart made for the perfect defense. If no one could reach him, then he would not have to feel the warmth again, would not have to feel the ice burning when that feeling left, would not feel himself break again.

But then Midoriya Izuku came along, and once again, he felt warm .

It wasn’t some fairytale like the Shoujo manga Fuyumi read, not some love at first sight. No, Midoriya Izuku was just someone in the background, someone to ignore, someone that was not worth his time.

And then Shouto saw him with All Might, and now Midoriya Izuku was an interest.

So, Shouto challenged him. Shouto pushed . And Midoriya Izuku pushed back —Shouto was not used to that. He was used to everyone bending or his father knocking him down. He was not used to a challenge, was not used to someone fighting at his level without trying to make themselves superior.

Because Midoriya Izuku did not portray himself as someone trying to be better than him, not like the arrogant Bakugou. Midoriya Izuku fought like someone clawing their way to stand at his level. He fought for his spot, and he fought dirty .

Shouto was not used to having someone bare their teeth at him.

And then the little itch began. In retrospect, he realized the feeling was much like the stinging burn of your skin as you willed away the cold, as you huddled around a fire, melting away the frost. Being around Midoriya Izuku felt like being warm .

Shouto realized he missed that feeling.

Shouto realized he craved it.

So of course, Shouto pushed back harder .

The Sports Festival was an absolute shit show. It left him wondering if Midoriya Izuku had a death wish. By the end of it, Shouto had his midlife crisis at the age of fifteen and a very intense interest in someone for the first time in years. 

He tried to brush it off, tried to act like it was just a simple friendship. Then the internships happened, and he did not see Midoriya for days, only to receive that frankly unhelpful text followed by finding Izuku staring down a god damn serial killer —

It was in that moment as Shouto shot a wild plume of flame at said serial killer that he decided if his Midoriya Izuku was not going to keep himself safe, then Shouto would have to do it for him.

It was in that following moment he realized that he had called Midoriya Izuku his .

And he found that he quite liked the claim.

“What now?”

Aizawa was absently poking at the broken remains of the metronome, seeming unbothered by the shattered mess on the desk while Shouto wrapped a random cloth Aizawa tossed at him around his bleeding fingers. “Now, we set rules.” Eyes sliding over towards the dual toned teen, Shouto once more felt like a bug on display. “You seem logical. Surely you can follow some basic rules…for once.”

Shouto bristled at the thought of restrictions. He was already struggling to set a routine and hide his fixation, rules would only make things worse— “Why should I listen to you?”

Aizawa shrugged. “You don’t have to.” Then, the man made a show of pulling open his desk drawer, grabbing a stack of papers, and then dropping them haphazardly on the desk. “But it would be hard to focus on your obsession if you no longer went to the same school as him.”

Shouto stared at the papers in horror . “You can’t —“

“You wouldn’t be the first brat I’ve expelled for being like this. Heroics attracts plenty of us,” Aizawa cut in, unbothered by the way Shouto began to shake in the chair. “I doubt you would be the last.”

Shouto’s gaze snapped away from the paperwork, the fully filled out paperwork just awaiting the final signature, turning his eyes on Aizawa and glaring with as much venom as he could muster, his mouth twisting into an angry snarl . “What grounds do you—!“

“My grounds are that Principal Nedzu trusts my decisions.” The teacher leaned back in the chair, watching Shouto almost lazily, seeming unbothered by the bit of frost that began to creep along the boy’s skin. “Especially on these types of cases.”

Shouto snapped, slamming his hands on the desk as he shot to his feet, chair flying out behind him. “ Hypocrite!— “

“And there it is,” Aizawa drawled with a lazy smile, still not bothered by the righteously angry teen in front of him. “ There is the danger.”

“ You— “

“Tell me how you plan to protect Midoriya Izuku if you can’t even control yourself?”

And then Shouto found himself at a loss, his rage beginning to melt away. 

Still.

“ Keep his name out of your mouth. “

Shouto’s venom laced words had very little effect on his teacher. “We are alike, Todoroki Shouto,” Aizawa replied in a softer tone, head tilting in the familiar, disarming way that Shouto used when speaking to people. The way he used to bring their guard down around him. 

Shouto swallowed, his fingertips still caked in blood gripping at the flat surface of the desk, the bloody cloth crumpling beneath his grip. “No, we are not .”

“Alike, not the same,” Aizawa countered easily. “For one, I have far more discipline than you.”

Shouto bristled at the slight.

“And for another, I was far more dangerous than you at your age.”

And then Shouto did not know what to think.

Aizawa reached forward, tapping the papers on the desk. “Either you keep this attitude up and I expel you right now…or you listen and learn from what I have to say, making things easy on the both of us.” Leaning back into his chair with a slight bounce, his brow quirked up. “Your choice.”

Shouto felt his jaw clench.

Aizawa held his gaze.

“…what do you want me to do?”

Aizawa grinned. “Start by picking up that chair, then we can move from there.”

Shouto decided in this moment that he hated feeling seen.

Chapter Text

“So. Why Midoriya Izuku?”

Shouto paused in his chewing, looking over at his Sensei. It had only been a day since their meeting, and not much else had been discussed. Shouto now had one mandatory lunch on the first day of each week in Aizawa’s office, as well as alternating days for meeting before and after school.

Essentially, time that he should be getting with his Izuku was being wasted .

Feeling particularly obstinate today, Shouto simply shrugged before going back to his chewing. Only, the moment his gaze was off his Sensei and onto his food, he watched in shock as the capture weapon shot into his field of vision and yanked his chopsticks right out of his hands.

Swallowing his food, he slowly turned to glare at the man. “That was rude.”

Aizawa twirled the chopsticks dramatically through his fingers. “So was ignoring your teacher.”

Shouto wanted to kick the man.

It was childish.

But still.

Shouto did not slam his bowl of soba on the table, but it was close. He had a feeling if he had, however, Aizawa would just find another way to get under his skin in retaliation. Perhaps that was the man’s end goal. Drive Shouto to such levels of frustration that he abandoned his skin, and then Aizawa could shed his own for a new, younger skin. That sounded like something someone as irritating as him would do.

Shouto had odd thoughts when irritated.

Refusing to look at the man, he stiffly replied, “I don’t have to answer you.”

The twirling chopsticks slowed as Aizawa seemed to assess him. “No. No, you do not.” Then, with a well placed glance towards his drawer, Aizawa drawled, “But it might be in your best interest if you cooperate.”

…Shouto would gladly just hand over his skin if it meant getting out of this situation.

Glaring at the teacher who sat calmly behind the desk, Shouto finally answered. “Midoirya Izuku is warm .”

Aizawa slowly raised a brow with that damned scrutinizing look. “Oh?”

“Yes. Oh .” 

Shouto felt like he would pay for the sass later but seeing the twitch in the man’s face was worth it. 

Then a pair of chopsticks were suddenly flying at him, and only a decade of dodging his father’s training kept him from being hit in the eye. A decade of dodging punches and coping with repressed trauma over things being thrown in his face, that is.

Holding the chopsticks and leveling the man with yet another glare, he fought the urge to snap the utensils in his hand as Aizawa chuckled at him. “See?” The man asked in an almost teasing tone that was so unnerving from their usually stoic teacher. “Was that so hard?”

Shouto said nothing as he reached for his food once more, keeping his eyes on the man as he resumed eating slowly. 

Aizawa said nothing, simply watching like the weird man that he was. Shouto hated it, but he had to tolerate it. There were too many people around the area of Aizawa’s office for him to get away with burning him to a crisp. Shouto could not become a hero if he had a murder charge. He could not stay near Midoriya Izuku’s warmth if he was in Tartarus.

Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, he knew who out of the two of them would win in a fight.

It was not Shouto.

After the silence held for a bit, Aizawa decided to break it. “Bright.”

Shouto paused, allowing his glare to melt into a wary confusion.

Aizawa shrugged. “You like people who are warm. I like those who are bright.” His head slowly tilted to the side. “All of my people are bright.”

Swallowing, Shouto hesitantly asked, “…you have more than one…person?”

“You can call them fixations if you want a term for it,” Aizawa replied, a pleased glint in his eyes at seeing how Shouto had been drawn into a conversation. “That’s what my teacher called them, anyway.”

“…your teacher?”

Aizawa grinned.

Curiosity was a weakness of Shouto’s, and apparently Aizawa was fully intent on exploiting it.

Of course, the bastard never actually explained anything.

Not long after he pressed for details, Aizawa cited that he had a mission briefing to attend off campus and kicked him out of the office. It had only been two days and he already hated this arrangement almost as much as his father. And, unfortunately, his foul mood was apparently noticeable.

“Did something happen during your lunch meeting?”

Glancing over at Izuku who walked tucked in next to him as they avoided the crowds of students leaving for the day, Shouto cursed Aizawa once more. His Izuku stood here, right next to him, asking about his well-being even, and he could not even fully enjoy it because of his lingering irritation.

“Nothing really,” Shouto managed to reply smoothly, trying to better hide his sour face. Seeing the look on Izuku’s face let him know he did a poor job of it. “The meetings just annoy me.”

Now the look was one of concern. “What exactly are the meetings about?”

Shouto looked towards the two walking in front of them, Iida carrying the conversation with very pointed chops of his arm while Uraraka walked dutifully at his side, smiling brightly while keeping her head tilted in such a way to make eavesdropping easier. 

“…they are about personal matters.”

Izuku seemed puzzled, but then something seemed to click. “Are they about…?”

Shouto knew what Izuku thought, could tell that he believed the meetings to be about his father. He did not feel the need to correct his friend. “The conversations have not been… pleasant .”

Slowly nodding with a look of understanding, Izuku seemed to slightly tuck in closer at his side, and Shouto felt warm at the silent sign of comfort. And when Izuku expertly changed the subject, discussing the quirk of some minor hero that was mentioned during their lesson today, he found himself finally falling at ease.

But then came the point when they had to switch paths, with Izuku heading to the train station with Uraraka and Iida, and Shouto being left alone once more.

He felt cold.

He did not like it.

He did not like it at all.

So, he decided to fix that.

“You need to be less obvious.”

Shouto dodged another fist swung in his direction, slipping to the side to dart out of the man’s range. Aizawa’s height paired with his longer arms made him a difficult opponent for Shouto in hand to hand. Sparring had never been Shouto’s strong suit, and apparently, Aizawa saw fit to make him suffer for it.

The fact that he was having to deal with this first thing in the morning made it worse .

Dropping into a basic stance as his breathing quickened, trying and failing to catch his breath, he snipped, “It’s hard to hide your movements after sparring for an hour straight.”

Aizawa smirked, standing in a deceptively relaxed pose, barely even breaking a sweat, the bastard.  “While yes, your hand to hand combat could use some work, that’s not what I meant.” Pushing his hair back from his face while he looked like a cat who had just gotten away with something, he asked, “Care to take another guess?”

Shouto’s eyes narrowed in irritation.

Aizawa took pity on him. “You followed him home yesterday.”

He did not have to say who.

Shouto’s expression did not flinch.

After a minute of silent staring, Aizawa broke down with a tired sigh. Spinning on his heel and strolling off to the side of the training mat, he picked up their respective waters and tossed Shouto his without even looking at the boy. “Drink.”

For once, Shouto did as he was told.

Taking his own swig, his teacher then asked, “Why did you not ask to walk home with him?” 

He scoffed. “He knows I live in the opposite direction.”

“Why not make up an excuse?”

“I do not know the area.”

Eyes narrowed. “You’ve been fixated for a month and have done no research on the area he lives in?”

Shouto bristled at the clear accusation. Face flushed, he ground out, “It’s not like I do this regularly—“

Aizawa let out a dry chuckle. “Recon is a basic skill. I suggest you learn it.”

Shouto wanted to claw his judgemental eyes out.

Before he could consider it, Aizawa drawled, “Miko Neko Cafe.”

“…what?”

He was met with a shrug as Aizawa took another swig of his drink. “It’s four blocks from Midoriya Izuku’s apartment. Small, locally owned, with plenty of private booths. Sounds like a good place to relax and study, perhaps with a friend …wouldn’t you agree?”

…Shouto wanted to claw his eyes out a little less.

“Why are you helping me?” Shouto finally asked.

Another damn shrug. “Easier then having to explain why a student of mine murdered someone for getting too close to their fixation.” Recapping the bottle, he mused, “I will clear whatever afternoon your fixation requests to go…just no more tailing him.”

Shouto glared.

“…without my express permission.”

Shouto begrudgingly relented.

It wasn’t till later that he realized he never asked how Aizawa knew that he was tailing Izuku.

After all, Aizawa left school early yesterday.

Shouto was sitting in class, mulling over his conversation with Aizawa from that morning. While he could easily see the point that the man was saying, it still left him feeling…unsettled.

Following Izuku was not practical. He knew this. It would simply lead to complications, and if he were to be caught, Shouto cannot guarantee being able to bullshit his way out of the situation. With random classmates, that would be easy. But with someone as keen and observant as his Izuku?

It would be a nightmare scenario guaranteed to end poorly. 

So yes, he needed to stop tailing his fixation. But that left him with a dilemma, and that dilemma being he now had no easy way to monitor the boy. He wanted to find out more about him, his likes and interests beyond the base level he sees at school. Sure, he could talk to Izuku about these things, but what if Shouto slipped and said something that Izuku did not like? What if Izuku decided they were not compatible?

And worse.

What if Izuku developed feelings for someone else first?

The thought itself had his stomach churning violently as he watched Izuku talk to the bright and overly cheery Uraraka. Shouto honestly did not even know if Izuku liked boys or not. He saw how he blushed around the girls, how he shied away and became flustered when Uraraka did something cute or when Mina leaned against him in overly familiar ways—

Honestly, were it not for the fact that Mina did this with everyone , he might have charred the girl on the spot.

But no, beyond some flustered moments, he was not sure if the object of his attention was even physically capable of returning his feelings. But just short of asking him—and honestly, there was no way for him to personally ask that and not give away his feelings—he had no concrete way of figuring this out.

This was where his current train of thought was settling when he heard a voice delicately clear their throat next to him.

Glancing to the side, he saw Yaoyorozu standing at his side, a slight gleam to her eyes. “You seem very… distracted this morning.” 

Shouto suppressed the urge to scowl at the uncharacteristically mischievous look on the girl’s face. “I had a long night.”

She clearly saw through him. “Oh? Did certain thoughts keep you up—“

“ Yaoyorozu .”

She laughed lightly, but not cruelly. “Oh come now, we’ve known each other since we were kids. I have told you to call me Momo.”

He let out a sigh. “What do you want, Momo? ”

His voice was a bit louder than he meant to be, and he noticed Izuku’s gaze snap towards him, a surprised look in his eyes. 

Momo glanced between the two, still smiling serenely. “Why don’t you join me for lunch today? It’s been ages since we’ve eaten together.”

Shouto glanced at Izuku, who looked very off balance with the conversation. “…I usually eat with Midoriya—“

“Midoriya has lunch with All Might-Sensei today, right?” Momo asked, her head tilting and an odd tone to her voice, a very pointed tone.

Izuku’s face wavered. “Ah…yes, I nearly forgot about that, Todoroki-kun. All Might asked this morning to meet with me…”

Shouto slowly nodded, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. He did not get as many lunches with his Izuku thanks to Aizawa, and now apparently All Might was taking more time away as well. “Well, then I suppose I can join you, Momo.”

If Shouto didn’t know better, he could have sworn Izuku flinched when he said Momo’s name.

“That’s perfect, Shouto-kun!” Momo preened, ignoring how Izuku flinched again . “I have a lot to talk to you about.”

It was then that Aizawa stormed into the class, and everyone had to scatter to their seats, including a reluctant looking Izuku.

As their lecture began, Shouto began to wonder exactly how Momo knew about Izuku having lunch with All Might…

“Oh that?” Momo settled into her chair, primly sitting her food tray down and delicately crossed her legs with a coy little smile on her face. “Simple. Kyouka told me.”

Shouto quirked up a brow at that. “Oh? Since when are you two so familiar.”

Momo looked put out at that comment, propping her chin in her palm as she picked up her spoon and absently pushed around her food. One thing Shouto had always noticed about Momo: all of her movements seemed to have a purpose, to tell a story. While Shouto relied on his blankness to hide his emotions, Momo did the opposite. A carefully crafted performance, moving as if she were an actress on stage rather than a friend telling a story.

Shouto liked to think that she behaved less like a performer around him.

That or she had simply perfected her routine for him.

He watched as she brought her spoon up to her mouth as she put on an exaggerated pout, twisting the spoon as she pulled it from her mouth to rest against her chin as her eyes were cast towards the table. “Well…we are not that familiar…” Her slate eyes flicked up to him, a mischievous twinkle in them. “Not yet at least.”

Shouto clucked his tongue. “You plan on collecting her.”

“Don’t say it like that!” Momo scolded, the pout back in full force. “That sounds so bad! Is it wrong to want to keep trusted friends?”

“It’s wrong to manipulate them into it.”

“It’s not manipulation if they are happy!”

Shouto blinked. “How does being happy correlate to whether it is wrong to manipulate someone?”

“Oh, shush!” Momo snipped, jabbing at her food. “You know I don’t do anything to hurt anyone. And besides, what about Midoriya?”

Shouto’s gaze grew hard. “What about him?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, do not be like that Shouto.” Pointing her spoon at him with a knowing smirk tugging at her face, she declared, “I have seen the way you look at him.”

“Momo.”

“I am offended that you have not come to me sooner.”

“ Momo.”

“Honestly, I have so many ideas to help you woo him—!“

A snap broke her train of thought, and Momo’s eyes zoomed in on the snapped chopsticks in Shouto’s hand. Silence hung heavy for a moment, before Shouto mumbled out a quiet, “Sorry…” before sitting the broken chopsticks onto the table.

She wordlessly created another set, handing them over to him.

After another beat, she finally stated, “You really like him, don’t you?”

Shouto simply fiddled with the new chopsticks as he gave her a curt nod.

She seemed to study him for a second, before she nodded as well. “Fine then. I will let you take the lead…but I mean it Shouto. I will help you win him over.”

“You don’t have to—“

“You are my friend,” she firmly interjected. “ My friends deserve nothing but the best, and I intend to give them everything they want and more.”

Shouto stared at her, not sure what to say, only to eventually blurt out, “Not a collector my ass .”

She let out an indignant huff, half heartedly glaring at him while shoving another spoonful of food into her mouth as he quietly laughed.

Later, as he and Momo headed back to class, he watched her break away at one point. She quickly made her way over towards Jirou, slowing at the girl’s side. Before Jirou could comment, Momo handed her what looked to be a piece of candy. Jirou’s eyes lit up for a second as she took the little gift, quickly popping it in her mouth before starting up a conversation.

Shouto watched, and when Momo caught his eye, he lifted a brow in question.

She simply smiled coyly.

He decided it was best to not get involved in her scheme, for now. He knew better. Besides, it’s not as if Jirou would not enjoy the outcome.

Momo took excellent care of her collection, after all.

Chapter Text

“The fuck is up with you and Deku?”

Shouto resisted the urge to sneer, slowly looking up towards the blonde hovering next to his desk. “What do you mean, Bakugou?”

Class had not even started yet, and Shouto did not have the patience to deal with the walking anger management issues at his side. Izuku was running late, and his nerves were already fried because of that. Izuku was never this late. Something had to have been holding him up—

Bakugou had no reservations over sneering at him, however. “Don’t fucking play games with me, IcyHot. I want answers .” 

Tilting his head in the way he does, Shouto asked plainly, “Could you elaborate?”

Leaning over in a way that would be intimidating to anyone else, anyone who was not as unstable as Shouto, Bakugou snarled, “You go from declaring war on the fucking nerd to being glued to his side like a god damned lovesick puppy. It’s nauseating .” Bakugou’s head tilted, the sneer morphing into a vicious grin. “I’m surprised you haven’t started barking yet, mutt .”

With a displeased hum, Shouto mused with a grimace, “Technically, I would be far from a mutt.” Then, his eyes sliding up to meet Bakugou’s, he let his eyes slowly slide over him with an unimpressed look and added, “But even if I was a mutt, at least I’m not a yappy little ankle biter.”

Hands were slammed on his desk, a violent yell breaking from the boy as the entire room snapped to attention. The crackling of Bakugou’s palms was surely damaging the desktop— “Why you good for nothing little— “

“ Bakugou. ”

Anything else Bakugou might have said died off immediately, all eyes darting over towards the room entrance, seeing Aizawa standing stoically in the doorway. Well, almost stoically. Anyone who knew what the stiffness in his shoulders and the straightening of his spine meant better knew the truth. 

Aizawa was pissed .

Eyes flashing red, the man quietly ordered. “Sit. Down .”

Bakugou clearly wanted to do anything but. 

But the boy was as smart as he was violent, and he knew better than to push his luck. So with clenched fingers and stiff jaw, Bakugou slowly moved from Shouto’s desk towards his own.

Shouto should have left it at that.

Should .

…he has never been good at should .

“ …woof .”

Ten minutes later, he was sitting in Recovery Girl’s office with minor explosion burns on his arms while being thoroughly chewed out by Recovery Girl. 

He did not care, however. 

He felt slightly bad for his classmates caught in the crossfire, and for the desks that would have to be replaced.

But glancing over towards the other bed, seeing Bakugou unconscious with his burns and frostbite marks waiting to be healed, he could not help but smile.

Only for Recovery Girl to smack him in the head with her cane.

“You stupid boys!” Recovery Girl snapped, obviously having seen the look Shouto shot Bakugou. She stepped down off her stool, stomping over in her hobbling way towards her desk while still ranting. “I am this close to retiring just to keep from dealing with you boys squabbling over fixations! Heroics drawing in the lot of you—“

“You know?”

Her tirade trailed off, glancing back over her shoulder. “Of course I know. How else am I supposed to treat you if I don’t know all of your health concerns?”

Shouto’s head tilted. “Health concern—“

“Don’t give me that!” She jabbed her cane at him. “Mental Health is just as important as physical! And since Hound Dog is not an option, it all falls on me to ensure that Aizawa is doing right by you.” Turning back to her desk, she muttered, “I still don’t know how Nedzu thought this was a good idea.”

She continued to mutter to herself as she angrily shuffled through papers, and Shouto was left with thoughts . While still reeling with the knowledge that Recovery Girl knew about him, about what he was, about how fractured he was, he could not help but wonder—

“You said boys .”

She didn’t even look up from the papers. “Yes, I am aware that girls can be afflicted as well.” Grumbling, she added, “You really should follow Yaoyorozu’s example more…”

He let out a tired sigh. “That is not what I meant.”

Finally looking back over to him, he saw the understanding flicker in her eyes. “You meant the plural.”

He straightened his shoulders. “Who else?”

“Tch.” She stepped back down from her stool. “I am not breaking patient confidentiality for you.” 

His eyes narrowed. “I need to know—“

“What you need to do is lay down and stop pestering me!” She stomped her cane on the ground to emphasize her point before hobbling back over to him. “I will call Aizawa to deal with you!”

“But if they are a threat—!” 

“Stop worrying! They are about as much of a threat as you!”

“ That’s the point ! ”

And he suddenly found himself being whacked with the cane again. “Which means they are being monitored!”

Shouto scowled. “By Aizawa?”

“…no.” Scoffing quietly as she turned away, she added, “I was overruled about that.”

And now Shouto had more concerns.

“Just focus on resting,” she added as she hobbled over towards the still unconscious Bakugou. “And stop attacking your classmates! Aizawa can only cover for you so much!”

Sulking, he grumbled, “He struck first—“

“And you instigated it!” She leaned in to kiss Bakugou’s cheek at that point, and Shouto watched in real time as the burns and frostbite faded. Which…pity. He deserved to keep a few reminders. 

But even as she hobbled back towards her desk, he stared across the room at Bakugou. 

He stared. 

And he wondered…

And then he felt his arm being grabbed and had to physically restrain himself from throwing Recovery Girl across the room. “What are you doing?”

Rubbing a bit of alcohol soaked cotton at the crook of his elbow, she gleefully remarked, “You are behind on some blood tests, so, now is as good of a time as any to get samples.”

…and now he wondered if freezing her to avoid the giant needle she was holding would be considered an overreaction. 

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t expel you on the spot.”

Shouto blinked. “Because I didn’t start it.”

Aizawa’s eye twitched . “No. No you did not.” Reaching down to his desk, he yanked open a drawer, pulled out a file, and slapped it on his desk. Flipping it open, he pulled out several pictures of Class 1A’s homeroom. “You just decided to poke the unstable kid with bombs on his hands.”

Shouto’s head tilted, staring at the pictures. “Huh. That is worse than I remembered.”

“ Worse than you— “ Aizawa took a deep breath, looking as if he was trying to center himself. “You are lucky that Nedzu forbade me from strangling children—“

Shouto did not even bother to look at him as he quipped, “You aren’t my type—“

Suddenly, Shouto found himself on the wrong end of Aizawa’s capture scarf, being yanked forward out of his seat and slammed against the desk while glowing red eyes bored into him. If Shouto were honest with himself, he would think he felt a bit of fear in that moment.

The fear was justified.

“Listen here you god damned brat ,” Aizawa hissed dangerously in a quiet voice that Shouto strained to here over the rush of blood pounding in his ears. “Do not forget who is the one with the control in this mentorship. I am sticking my neck out to keep you here, and I do not need you jeopardizing my control over something as petty as your need to goad your classmates into confrontations. You know exactly what you did, and I will not tolerate it.”

And then as quickly as he had been dragged in, Shouto was thrown back into his chair, nearly toppling over backwards as the red eyed glare ceased and the scarf settled back around Aizawa’s neck. The man seemed unbothered by Shouto’s flailing arm pinwheels to keep his balance. “Now, I expect better from you in the future.”

Shouto finally got the chair to tilt forward and hit the ground with a loud clunk . Taking a second to deal with the whiplash of emotions, Shouto managed to shoot a bewildered glare towards his mentor. “What part of I didn’t start it did you not get?”

Aizawa gave him an unimpressed look. “ Woof ?”

“…I see your point.”

“Glad to hear it,” the man drawled as he gathered up the pictures to file back away in the folder. “Hopefully you actually learn to behave.” Dropping the file in the drawer, he added, “Because next time, I can assure you I will do whatever it takes to assure you have learned.”

Shouto wanted to snark something back. 

He wisely kept his mouth shut. 

Slamming the drawer shut, Aizawa quipped, “At the very least, I know that you are fairly skilled at manipulation, so that is not something I am going to have to teach you. That would have been a pain. We will just have to work on when is the best time to push someone. Thankfully, Bakugou was the aggressor both in confrontation and attack, so he is the one that will be subjected to detention for now. But I do not want you making a habit of this.” His eyes narrowed. “Am I clear? ”

Shouto stiffly nodded.

Aizawa grinned. “Good. Now. Anything else you want to bring up before I kick you out?”

Deciding it best to change the subject, Shouto asked, “Who else is like us?”

Aizawa paused. “What?”

“Someone else is like us in my class—“

“I thought you were aware of Yaoyorozu.”

Shouto shook his head. “Momo isn’t like us, not really. She just likes to collect.”

Aizawa lifted a brow.

“…I am aware that her collections are odd ,” he continued pointedly. “But she isn’t possessive or… violent about it.”

“Fair enough. And what makes you think that there is someone else in your grade like us?”

Shouto felt a tiny bit of dread as he slowly stated, “…because Recovery Girl said so?”

The room suddenly felt… cold .

Aizawa grew deathly still. “…she said what ? ”

And then he realized. “You were not aware.”

And then Aizawa was on his feet, leaning across the desk, eyes flashing from his quirk once more. “Tell me everything. Now. ”

“I’m so sorry about Kacchan!”

After relaying the conversation to Aizawa about his interaction with Recovery Girl, Shouto had been all but dragged out into the hall and abandoned as the man stormed off in the direction of the medical wing. Shouto took this as permission to head back to class, only to realize it was time for lunch.

And the moment he stepped into the lunch room, he was practically tackled by the one person he wanted to see at the moment.

Unfortunately for him, that person wanted to talk about the one person he did not want to think about.

Shouto shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize about.” With a gentle nudge, he guided the fretting object of his affections towards the lunch line. “Bakugou was the one who attacked me, not you.”

Izuku looked unconvinced, shuffling awkwardly next to him as they waited for the line to move. “Well, I feel responsible. He’s always been a bit… weird about me.”

Shouto’s head tilted ever so slightly. “Weird how?”

Izuku shrugged. “Just…weird.” Dropping his gaze to his hands as the line moved forward, he added, “Mostly overprotective as of late.” Then, looking up with an apologetic gaze, he insisted, “But he won’t antagonize you again, I promise—!“

“Midoriya.” Calling him Midoriya felt so wrong on his tongue. “You are not responsible for his actions.” Leaning over and reaching across Izuku, bringing them very close as he picked up one of the trays next to him, Shouto insisted, “And you do not have to worry about me.” Then, with a rare smile, he added, “I can more than handle myself.”

Izuku let out a strangled sound, looking like he wanted to argue but seeming too flustered to say anything else. He just meekly took one of the other trays on the stand and followed at Shouto’s side without another complaint. Though he did give Shouto a grateful smile of his own.

And Shouto felt content.

But still. 

Izuku gave Bakugou too much credit. The blonde was a loose canon, literally , and while he knows the connection could be explained away with the ‘childhood friends’ story, Recovery Girl’s words just… stuck . Like gum on the bottom of a desk, unnoticed until you crawl beneath and someone resorted to scraping it away.

Izuku was bound to get hurt eventually if no one scraped Bakugou off his side.

Perhaps Shouto needed to keep a better eye on Izuku…for protection.

But then he remembered how he was banned from following Izuku home. And until he figured out how Aizawa knew and how to avoid detection, tailing Izuku was not an option…

…unless he was not actually tailing him.

Well then. As he walked at Izuku’s side back to class after lunch, he came to a decision. Perhaps it was time to take advantage of Aizawa’s earlier suggestion.

“We should go out together.”

He could honestly say that out of all the reactions he expected, Izuku imitating the sound of a tea kettle was very decidedly not what he expected.

Chapter Text

“You want to what ?”

Shouto shifted awkwardly. “I want to go study at a cafe. With you.” Forcing himself to look at Izuku as they finished up in the lunch line, who was turning a strange shade of red, he added, “My sister mentioned a cafe she liked, and it’s on the side of town where you mentioned living…”

Izuku seemed to be growing redder. Shouto hoped he was not unwell. Should he be sick, his time seeing the boy would be shortened. Aizawa certainly would not allow him to miss class to watch over Izuku. He could possibly demand Aizawa let him be the one to deliver assignments, but Shouto never knew what to expect from one minute to the next, and he could see his Demon Sensei holding that privilege above his head.

Shaking his head as if trying to focus, Izuku stuttered out as they finally sat at their lunch table, “W-what cafe?”

“Miko Neko Cafe.”

Izuku blinked. “…huh.”

Shouto stiffened ever so slightly, already regretting the suggestion Aizawa gave. “…I am sorry, would you prefer someplace else—“

“No! No, sorry, it’s fine! Great even!” Izuku quickly rambled on, arms waving through the air. “Sorry, I didn’t—I’m just surprised! But that works! I—“

His face was even redder at this point, Izuku covering his cheeks with his hands and ducking his head. Shouto, feeling concerned, could not stop himself from reaching out with his right hand and gently placing the palm on Izuku’s forehead…

And Izuku’s head snapped up. “Uh…”

Shouto yanked his hand back, turning his face to the side and refusing to look at Izuku, fearing irritation from the boy. Stupid, stupid, stupid — “I apologize. I didn’t…I didn’t think that through. I…” He finally looked at Izuku, seeing nothing but confusion and a hint of concern on his face, the redness dying down. “Your face was red. I was worried you had a fever.” 

And then the redness was back in full force.

Shouto began to panic as Izuku buried his face back into his hands, letting out muffled rambles. “Midoriya? Are you alright?” Izuku then chose that moment to drop his head to the table, face still hidden away as the redness spread to his ears. “Midoriya?! Should we go see Recovery Girl—“

“ Should we go see Recovery Girl? ”

Shouto glowered up at the man sitting across from him. “I was concerned .”

Aizawa was grinning like a madman, snickering to himself the whole time. “If I had known how awful you were at this, I would have had second thoughts about taking you under my wing.”

“By all means,” Shouto drawled, clearly irritated as he slouched down in the office chair. “I will be more than willing to call this ‘partnership’ done with and be on my way.”

Chuckling, Aizawa’s head dropped into a tilt as he stared at the boy. “Partnership? Kid, that insinuates that we are on the same level. Trust me…” He leaned forward across his desk, looking a little manic as he spoke, his usual mask dropped and replaced with something far worse. “You aren’t anywhere near my level.”

Shouto wanted to throw the man out a window.

Instead, he took a breath. “I need tomorrow after school off.”

Aizawa lifted a brow. “For your date? ”

Shifting under the pointed stare, he amended, “For my study session.”

“…your study session .” Leaning forward, his face carefully blank, Aizawa asked, “Is it just a study session?”

Head tilting slightly in confusion, Shouto countered, “What else would it be?”

“A date .”

Shouto twitched in his chair, trying not to react as his heart pounded in his chest. “I can’t ask him that .”

Seeming exasperated, his brow twitching, Aizawa snipped, “And why not? Do you romantically like your fixation like that or not?”

“Of course I do—“

“Then why waste a perfectly good opportunity for a simple study session?— “

Shouto tried his best to reign in his growing irritation, hands twitching at his sides. “I don’t even know if he likes me like that!”

Aizawa looked increasingly agitated. “What the hell do you think dates are for— “

“I’m not even sure if he likes boys!”

Silence fell on the pair, with Aizawa simply… staring at Shouto. It did nothing to soothe his irritation, only making him more unsettled, more like he was being scrutinized and dissected under that gaze.

Then.

“…was I this stupid when I was your age?”

“Fuck you.”

“Language.”

Shouto wanted to go home. 

As they were leaving Aizawa’s office, Shouto paused and asked, “Why?”

Locking the door and pressing a nondescript section of wood, likely a spot for activating extra layers of protections to the room while the man was out, Aizawa glanced over towards Shouto. “What do you mean?”

Shuffling in place, he quietly asked, “Why do you care so much about how things progress with myself and… him ?”

Aizawa paused, head tilting in that way he does when trying to mask what he was. The Shouto of before would likely have thought nothing of it. The Shouto of now knows that look. 

The look a predator sizing up prey.

Then, the look was carefully masked and he shrugged. “Because, we are alike.” Moving to brush past Shouto, Aizawa paused, staring across the room at something and added lowly, “And I know how I would react if I did not get what I wanted.”

Shouto glanced in the same direction, noticing an unfamiliar man, one tall and rail thin with wild blonde hair disappearing out of the staff room.

He noticed Aizawa’s hand twitch .

Glancing back towards Shouto, Aizawa added, “If you cannot tell what your fixation thinks of you, then use your resources. I’m not going to hand feed you everything.”

Shouto startled from staring off where the blonde man had disappeared from sight. “What—?”

“Yaoyorozu is a good tool to have in your toolbox.” A smirk tugged at his mentor’s face. “Don’t let her sit around and rust.”

Then the man swiftly left the staff room, heading off in the same direction as the other, leaving Shouto to silently watch after him.

He decided that wondering how the man knew about Momo’s offer to help was a concern for another day.

Shouto headed straight for her desk upon entering the classroom that morning. She was the only one here, which it was not uncommon for her to arrive early, but usually… “Where is Iida?”

“Good morning to you too, Shouto,” she replied with an amused chirp to her voice, a teasing tone that had an underlying edge to it. Shouto wondered if everyone was having an off morning with their masks, or if he was just getting better at seeing past the bullshit.

Resisting the urge to sigh, he calmly replied, “It is good to see you, Momo. Now—“

“Aizawa stepped in and ordered him to take some papers to the front office,” Momo cut in smoothly, with a curious tilt to her head. “He seemed like he was making up something on the spot, if I’m being honest…”

Shouto ignored her attempt at fishing for information. Instead, he cut to the chase before other students arrived. “I need help with Izuku.”

She perked up in her seat, eyes glinting. “Oh? Familiar with him already?”

He decided to parrot her words from yesterday. “We are not that familiar…not yet at least.”

She looked ready to squeal in excitement. “What do you need?”

Five minutes later, and students began to trickle in. Shouto noticed when Momo straightened in her seat, then turned just in time to see Jirou notice the girl and perk up as well. Though the difference was the momentary flash of confusion on Jirou’s face, as if confused as to why she grew excited. 

“Excuse me, Shouto,” Momo spoke softly, sliding out of her seat in a graceful way and beelining towards her collection piece, small candy already in hand. Shouto shook his head, knowing that this was a battle Momo had already won. Jirou was a smart girl, but Momo…

It was like playing chess against a master when all you’ve ever known was checkers.

Jirou never really stood a chance.

Which is why he knew, begrudgingly, that he would need Momo’s help in order to ensure that no one stole his Midoriya Izuku away. Planning and plotting was not his forte, whereas Momo possessed the skills in spades. Her help could guarantee Izuku’s affections. 

Speaking of…

Shouto glanced towards the door as Izuku walked in.

His heart skipped a beat to see that Izuku was looking back, noticing the way Izuku’s eyes seemed to light up when he made eye contact. At least, Shouto thought they did. He was never the best with reading expressions, but Izuku was not someone hard to read anyway.

Perhaps Izuku did like him…

But then he noticed Izuku’s gaze slip to the side, only for him to jump and drop his gaze, cheeks red. Shouto turned his head to see what exactly Izuku was looking at, only to see Uraraka. The girl who constantly hovered around Izuku, the one who had claimed Izuku’s friendship from day one and had a head start on him. Her eyes shifted from Izuku to Shouto, and he saw an expression that he was very familiar with.

Uraraka was jealous .

And it was that moment that Shouto felt something coil inside of him, something dark and twisted and almost…

It was that moment that Shouto truly understood what Aizawa meant when he said Shouto was dangerous.

Chapter Text

“—so her rankings are likely going to spike dramatically in the next few weeks, despite her lack of PR and public appearances like a lot of other high ranking limelighters,” Izuku explained, arms waving through the air as he continued to ramble. “It’s really amazing to see another hero climb the ranks simply because they are good at what they do rather than public opinion!”

“Mhmm,” Shouto replied softly, watching intently as Izuku continued on with his speech about his next hero rankings predictions. 

Honestly, Shouto could give a rat’s ass about the rankings, but seeing Izuku speak, the way his eyes lit up, the varying expressions on his face. The boy was so perfect and wonderful, and Shouto wondered how it took him till the Sport’s Festival to realize how warm he was. Izuku practically radiated the warmth, and Shouto could not help but bask in it.

Occasionally the boy would pause, glancing to Shouto as if he misspoke, as if he were worried about Shouto’s opinion, but with a gentle nudge or leading question, the spark would return and the passion would shine through. He would never thank Aizawa, but Shouto could begrudgingly admit that this afternoon was utter bliss .

Honestly, he felt a little high off of it all.

Even the glare of Uraraka boring into the back of his skull as he and Izuku parted ways from her and Iida at the train station could not dull this feeling. If anything, the knowledge that Izuku was in his orbit while she was stewing alone made it so much sweeter —

“Ah, we’re here!”

Shouto startled from his thoughts, looking away from Izuku for the first time since they departed from the train station. Glancing up, he eyed the sign to the cafe: Miko Neko Cafe, complete with a smiling cat wearing what looked to be a maid’s bonnet. A weird name, but Shouto could not seem to care.

Letting out a soft hum, Shouto moved to guide Izuku inside. “Let’s get a table.”

Izuku suddenly looked worried. “I forgot to look online at the ticket prices—“

“I will cover us both.”

Blanching, Izuku insisted, “No, it’s fine! I can—“

“Midoriya.” He could not help but smile at the boy, feeling so very pleased at the moment. “I may not care much for my father, but he did at least have the decency to give me one of these.” 

He then took out his credit card, a sizable one, one of the cards made of thick metal and intended to last for a very long time. Izuku still seemed hesitant, but Shouto just nudged him through the doors. “Trust me, I can afford it.”

And he was not exaggerating. He could afford a lot . And Izuku deserved the best of everything. He likely should have gotten him a gift. Maybe a ring—no, that was too much. He thinks. Would that be acceptable at this stage? Would it be seen as overbearing? He would have to consult with Momo, she seemed to be knowledgeable with gifts—

Shouto paused in the doorway.

A fat calico cat sat in their path.

He stared at the cat.

The cat stared back.

He blinked.

The cat blinked.

He looked to Izuku. “Is it normal to have cats inside of cafes?”

Izuku looked as confused as the cat. “…Todoroki-kun, you do know what kind of cafe this is, right?”

He hesitated. “…the kind with food?”

“… Todoroki-kun. ” Izuku looked very close to laughing at him, his eyes twinkling gleefully. “This is a cat cafe. As in, it is full of cats.”

Shouto blinked. He looked to the left to see cats. He looked to the right and saw more cats. He then looked back down at the fat calico who looked like she was judging him.

“…oh.”

The urge to kick Aizawa was back.

“This was…nice.”

Shouto smiled. “Nice?”

Izuku’s face was red. Now that he knew that the red was just him blushing, Shouto found it…pleasing. The red was cute, adorable even. It made Izuku’s freckles stand out even more. Shouto could almost count them, could draw constellations in them. 

No one else deserved to see him like this.

Izuku shyly nodded. “Very nice. I…would like to do this again.”

Shouto knew that he could not prevent others from seeing, not without locking Izuku away…though the thought was tempting. But at the very least, Shouto could ensure that Izuku was his .

“We could make it a…thing,” Shouto offered awkwardly, shuffling in place as his own face felt warm. “ Our thing.”

The smile that lit up Izuku’s face was beautiful . “Our thing…I like that.”

Shouto willed whatever little bit of courage he could. “So it’s a date.”

And oh, he did not know that Izuku could turn that red, but Shouto could not seem to make himself regret it.

“Be safe! Text me when you get on the train, alright Todoroki-kun?”

“Of course, Midoriya.”

And as the object of his affections waved and disappeared within the confines of his apartment complex, Shouto could not help but feel like everything was right with the universe.

And nothing could ruin that feeling.

But then he met her .

“You like him, don’t you?”

Shouto startled, spinning to see a girl standing in the alleyway next to him, swaying slightly from side to side. Her features were obscured in the low light, though he could see her dark colored hair draping over her shoulders and the outline of what looked to be a school uniform. 

While he could not make out her distinct features, he could still see her expression. The smirk, the glint in her eyes. She had this look on her face, this knowing sort of look that set Shouto’s skin crawling.

He felt raw, exposed —

He did not like the feeling.

Keeping his face neutral, he simply let out a noncommittal hum, turning back to staring off down the road where Izuku had disappeared into his apartment complex. The cafe had been a wonderful idea. Today had been fantastic.

He refused to thank Aizawa for the suggestion.

He had to focus better. “He’s my friend,” he replied flatly, eyes flickering towards her as she continued to sway, her arms tucked carefully behind her back. “Of course I like my friends.”

She giggled, a light airy sound that shouldn’t sound as threatening as it did. “Oh, you know what I meant.” She stepped forward, her head tilting as he got a better look at her. Her dark hair was pitch black, her eyes almost catlike. Perhaps the slit eyes were part of her quirk. 

She leaned towards him, hands still tucked behind her back, but every instinct he had was screaming danger, danger, DANGER —

“You have a crush on him.”

Shouto hated feeling seen.

With a venomous sneer, he snapped at her, “Don’t you have better things to do?”

The girl seemed unphased by his harshness, just smiling a little sharper, her teeth flashing in the light of the sun setting, showing off a glint of what looked to be fangs. “Oh, but I find you so fascinating ,” she cooed, her hands finally coming from behind her back to hold in front of her face, as if she were trying to look cute. 

It was decidedly not very cute to see her hands covered in drying blood. 

It was even less cute to see the bloody knife in her hand.

And then as he contemplated between fighting her and calling for backup, she squealed, “You're just like me! ”

… oh .

And Shouto’s mind seemed to shut down.

She ran off soon after that, giggling to herself while he struggled to process what had just transpired. But eventually, he shook off the shock and chased after her down the alleyway. And then, he found her.

Found her very much dead and tucked up next to a trash can, her throat slashed with a straw stick out of the side.

Eventually, he managed to call Aizawa.

Not five minutes later he was surrounded by cops and ten minutes after that, Aizawa was at his side. 

“I spoke to her.” Shouto refused to look at his teacher as he explained. “I spoke to her, then tried to follow after and…” 

He did not know quite what else to say.

“The girl has been dead for a while…” Aizawa began as he hovered near Shouto, eyeing him over as if looking for invisible injuries while trying his best to respect his space. 

His head snapped up, and he finally met his teacher’s gaze. “I know what I saw—!”

“I don’t doubt you,” Aizawa replied in a calm, level tone. “The killer just might have been using a quirk…”

Ah. That would make sense. Just another villain. No wonder the police seemed so…relaxed. They probably will be dumping this on some poor local hero soon. Nothing to worry about.

Still.

“She said I was just like her.” He shifted. “The…the fake.” Shouto’s face scrunched up in annoyance. “She said it and giggled . All while holding a bloody knife —”

Aizawa frowned, moving to poke the boy in the forehead and break him from his spiral. He still stayed out of Shouto’s bubble, however, despite the hovering. “You very much are not.”

“I know.” Shouto grabbed the edges of the shock blanket that he had earlier been insisting that he did not need and pulled it a little tighter on himself. At the very least, he was still standing despite attempts to get him to sit. “I don’t kill. But…” 

Aizawa poked his head again, a bit more sharply. “That’s why I’m here. You won’t get to that point unless necessary. I’ll kick your ass.”

Shouto felt cold.

It wasn’t due to his quirk.

“…what do you mean by ‘unless necessary’?”

Aizawa’s face grew blank for a second. Just a second. Then, a rare sad smile flitted on his mouth. “We’ll talk about it eventually.”

Before Shouto could protest, he was interrupted. A loud, sharp ding echoed through the air, and he found himself instinctively reaching for his pocket, only to pause and stare at his teacher. “Can I…?”

Aizawa rolled his eyes. “So long as you stay here. I’m going to go get you discharged to leave.”

Shouto’s head tilted. “Doesn’t a guardian have to do that?”

“The school has emergency guardianship over you hellspawn,” Aizawa drawled. “That makes you mine.”

Then, he turned on his heel and strode away before Shouto could protest.

He just meant the class, Shouto reasoned with himself.

Shouto did not belong to anyone.

Shouto was someone who covets and takes, not someone to be coveted and taken.

Shouto was his own, and that was it.

Izuku : Ah, I was just checking to see if you made it to your train okay!

Shouto : …about that.

Izuku : Did you get delayed?

Shouto : Yes…

Izuku : …are you okay?

Shouto : Physically? Yes.

Shouto : Emotionally? Unsure.

Izuku : Todoroki, please, what’s wrong???

Shouto : I may have been talking to a murderer.

Izuku : …what.

Shouto : And then I followed her and found a dead body that looked identical to her but had been dead for several hours, so they think it might have been a quirk.

Izuku : Where are you?

Shouto : I could give you more details to see your thoughts on what the quirk might be.

Izuku : Todoroki, where are you?

Shouto : You cannot come here. It’s an active crime scene.

Izuku : Todoroki.

Shouto : Aizawa-sensei is here. He’s helping me deal with the police. I am fine.

Izuku : …is typing.

Izuku : …is typing.

Izuku : …is typing.

Izuku : Want to crash at my place tonight? 

Izuku : If you are comfortable with that.

Izuku : I just—you said your home alone right now with your sister being out of town and your brother at college, and Endeavor doesn’t count, so just—

Izuku : I don’t want to be presumptuous.

Shouto : …you do not mind?

Izuku : You are my friend. Of course I don’t mind.

Shouto : I will text you once I’m outside, I just have to inform Aizawa-sensei.

Izuku : Be safe.

Chapter Text

“Sorry for the mess!”

Slipping off his shoes in the entryway, Shouto vaguely thought as he glanced around that there was no mess, not really. The apartment was simple, if not a little barren. Not enough of anything to be a true mess.

But Izuku looked flustered enough that he did not have the heart to correct him.

“Your home is lovely,” he said like a liar. Okay, to be fair, it was not completely a lie. The apartment was nice, nothing fancy. It was practical. 

His Izuku deserved better than practical .

He would have to find the perfect place for them once they graduated. If things went smoothly, Izuku would be his long before graduation, and it would only be practical to live together at that point. Highschool sweethearts did that all of the time. Once they were settled and rising in the rankings, then he could worry about proposing.

He may not be the most socially inclined, but he understood the need to take things slow.

Izuku would accept being his better if he was led to believe that it was at a more natural pace. 

Shouto shook his head, his thoughts having wandered off topic. He could start off with a gift and worry about apartments later. Endeavor had been oddly… kinder ? He thinks that is the correct word. But yes, kinder as of late, less strict, and the emotionally stunted father had gone to show his form of kindness by raising the limit on Shouto’s card.

Which did not buy the man’s way into Shouto’s good graces, but still served a purpose as to making it easier to buy Izuku presents.

He was getting off topic again.

“So, your parents will not mind?” Shouto resorted to asking as he followed Izuku towards the kitchen.

“Ah,” Izuku began sheepishly. “Mom works long hours at the hospital and isn’t home often…at least she’s home more during my school hours.” He shrugged. “The wonders of the night shift.”

Unacceptable. Perhaps Shouto could see about moving in together sooner— focus . “Ah, understandable.” Tilting his head curiously, he asked, “And your father?…”

Izuku’s expression wilted. “He…passed away when I was eight.”

Abort, abort, ABORT —

“My condolences,” Shouto replied awkwardly. “I apologize—“

“It’s fine, really!”

They both stared at each other, neither really knowing what to say. Shouto tried to think of something, anything —

Izuku beat him to it. “How…are you holding up?”

Shouto blinked, confused as to what Izuku meant. Then he remembered. 

Ah yes. The dead body.

He shrugged. “I am fine, I suppose.”

Izuku frowned, looking concerned. “Are you sure? Its just…that seems like something that would, I don’t know, upset people…?”

Oh. Oh yes, that was something that would upset people. He should have some kind of response. “I…may be in a bit of shock.” 

There, nailed it.

His success was further confirmed when he found himself sitting on Izuku’s couch, burrowed under blankets while Izuku fussed, bringing snacks for them while some Disney movie about a girl with ice powers was queued to be played on the TV. Despite the fact that he wanted to be the one to dote on Izuku, to show him how perfect and wonderful he was…Shouto had to admit that this was something he could get used to.

He had to force himself not to preen too much.

The whole situation was made even better by the fact that Izuku had pointed out that Shouto could not sleep in his school uniform. Thus leading to Shouto now dressed in a pair of Izuku’s shorts and shirt that had “shorts” written across the front in bold kanji.

Shouto never wanted to take them off.

While Izuku was off in the kitchen, Shouto found himself burying his face into the collar of the shirt, inhaling deeply, and reveling in the scent that was hard to describe beyond being so very Izuku . His brain was spinning , and he briefly wondered if it was possible to get drunk off of someone else’s scent alone. Likely, he was just reaching a state of euphoria caused by all the endorphins he was producing.

If this was the result of finding a corpse, he would need to do so more often—

“Ah, so I hope you like this!” Izuku called out as he carried in a tray to sit on the coffee table, piled high with various snacks and two steaming cups of some brown liquid. “I may have gone overboard.”

Shouto perked up under his blanket pile, staring at the tray curiously. He did not know most of these treats: he had seen them in passing but had been forbidden from eating them. “I’m sure I will like any of it.” Carefully reaching out of his cocoon to grab the drink, he took a tentative sniff, only to blink in surprise. “This smells like chocolate.”

Izuku stared at him. “Oh, uh, yeah. It’s hot chocolate. Have you…not had that before?”

He shook his head. “I was banned from having sweets growing up.” 

Izuku frowned. 

Shouto took a sip.

He perked up even more at the taste. “This is…good.” He took another, longer sip. “ Very good.”

Izuku’s frown shifted to a beam. “Ah, I’m glad!” Grabbing his own mug, the teen moved to settle in on the couch next to him, sitting close . Shouto felt warm, and the feeling was neither from his quirk nor the blankets covering him. “So, excited for the movie?”

He nodded. “Movies were also banned for me, so I regrettably have not seen many.”

The frown was back on Izuku’s face, along with this… look in his eyes that Shouto could not quite place. “Well…” The frown left as quickly as it came, Izuku smiling once more, looking almost…smug? “We are going to fix that.”

Shouto could not help but smile as he sat his mug down, unable to stop himself from teasing, “My hero.”

Izuku lit up bright red near immediately, then slapped his hands over his face, quietly screaming.

Shouto decided that he could not allow this. Reaching up to grab Izuku’s wrists, he gently pulled his hands from his face, reveling in the blush that covered his skin. “Why do you hide your face when embarrassed?”

Stumbling over his words, Izuku could barely look at him, head angled down as he stuttered out, “W-well, I just, just get overwhelmed. My f-face gets all red and splotchy, and I get even more embarrassed and—“

Letting go of one of his wrists, Shouto reached up to gently grasp Izuku’s chin, carefully tilting his face to look up. He gave Izuku the ability to look away, but Izuku did not resist, looking like a frozen rabbit.

“I like seeing your face like this,” Shouto mused, head tilting so slightly as he took in all of Izuku’s face. “Red may not be my favorite color, but you make me like it.”

Izuku made a sound akin to a squeak.

Shouto felt bold . His thumb on the hand holding Izuku’s chin gently began to trace his jawline. His skin, oh his skin , it was so soft beneath his fingers— 

The sound of the front door lock turning broke the moment. 

Shouto was up on his feet, crouched in a defensive position with Izuku shoved behind him, smile wiped from his face as he readied himself—

“Oh dear!”

And he just barely stopped himself from attacking Izuku’s mother.

“Ah, mom!” Izuku called out, scrambling off the couch and nearly falling on his face if Shouto and not twisted around and caught him. “You’re home early!”

Inko’s face was carefully neutral, a smile resting there that did not quite reach her eyes. “I was let off early tonight…I was not aware that we had guests.”

Izuku tried to stutter out an excuse, and Shouto suddenly felt the need to defend Izuku. “It’s my fault. I had a rather…traumatic event happen on my way home, and here was closer. Izuku also knew that I was home alone tonight, and did not want me by myself.”

Inko seemed…caught off guard by the explanation. “Traumatic event?”

Shouto nodded. “I found a dead body.”

“You found a what?! ”

Shouto did not like Midoriya Inko.

He could not even bring himself to refer to her as Midoriya’s mother. There was nothing specific about her that made her a bad person per say, but she just made him feel scrutinized . She hovered and fussed and asked far too many questions. Honestly, he’d rather be scrutinized by Aizawa than her. At least he was reasonable about his control.

Not that Shouto would ever say that to him.

But Inko hovered around them both, especially Izuku, to an almost smothering degree. He could not even enjoy his time with Izuku because she was just there . And when it was time for bed, instead of sleeping on the floor in Izuku’s room which was the initial plan, she insisted he sleep in the guest room.

So yes. He did not like her. He was almost grateful when they finally left the apartment, and Shouto was already thinking up ways to convince Izuku to stay over at his place in the future. His father stayed at his agency most weekends, and he was certain he would convince the man to stay away if under some guise of earning Shouto’s favor.

His father would never have that favor, but it was a good tool to use.

They were barely out of the apartment when Izuku immediately started apologizing. “I’m so sorry about my mom! She usually doesn’t come home that early, and I completely forgot to text her—“

“It is alright, Midoriya,” Shouto assured. It wasn’t really alright, but it was not Izuku’s fault. 

“Still—“

“I enjoyed my time with you,” Shouto cut in, not wanting to discuss Midoriya Inko anymore. 

And this seemed to ease any of Izuku’s other concerns, the tension in his shoulders melting away, a relieved smile on his face. 

Deciding to change the subject, Shouto used his surefire technique to distract Izuku.

“You mentioned some Pre-Quirk superhero movies last night?”

And thus the rest of the walk and train ride back to UA was filled with Izuku’s chatter, explaining in great detail the anthology of Superhero movie franchises. Apparently, there were a lot of them, which better explained to Shouto how the world ended up clinging to the ideal of heroes when quirks first started coming into existence.

If Pre-Quirk people idolized heroes even a fraction as much as Izuku, nothing would have stopped this turn of events in history.

If Shouto ever had a goal for being a hero, trying to earn that idolization from Izuku would be goal enough for him.

Izuku was still chattering away when they reached homeroom, blissfully unaware of all the eyes that snapped onto them arriving together. Everyone was likely aware of the pair leaving school together the day before. The fact that they arrived together the next day despite living so far apart…

He could practically see the gears turning in their minds. The gossips of the class were perking up, already whispering amongst themselves. Iida looked confused to the sudden air in the room, but the teen probably had not come to the same conclusions as everyone else. 

Uraraka looked like she swallowed a lemon.

Shouto preened over that fact.

Then, he immediately went on edge as his eyes landed on Momo. 

Oh. Oh she did not look pleased. 

Well. That was going to be a fun conversation.

Throughout all of these silent standoffs, Izuku stayed blissfully unaware, ranting about some movie and an “Endgame” that was what he argued the downfall of a hero franchise. Shouto tried to remain tuned into Izuku’s words, willfully ignoring the eyes burning holes in the back of his head.

Uraraka was not a threat. He had grown up on the bad side of Endeavor all his life.

No, but a displeased Momo?

Now that was something to fear.

The moment classes were let out for lunch, Momo was at his side. He could feel her gaze burning a hole in the back of his head all through class and had even noticed the concerned glances that the teachers had been sending her during the lectures. 

It had taken all of his willpower to ignore the prickling sensation on his neck.

Unfortunately, he could not avoid it any longer. 

To give her credit, she acted just as pleasant as usual, if not a tad bit more latched to his side as they left the classroom. Izuku shot pointed looks between her and himself all the while, looking…distinctly not pleased with the situation.

But Izuku had a meeting with All Might, and thus he soon had to part from them, and Momo was immediately linking arms with Shouto and dragging him off towards the cafeteria. 

In a stiff, clearly upset tone, Momo quietly commented, “So. You arrived at school fairly early this morning…with Midoriya in tow.”

He gave her a glance as he tried to keep pace with her dragging him. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

Her jaw clenched. “You both came from the same direction.”

“Yes. Yes, we did—“

He suddenly found himself being yanked down a side hall, away from the cafeteria. “Stop being purposefully obtuse and tell me exactly what happened?”

Shouto blinked, staring at her. “I thought it was obvious. I stayed over at his home—“

“ Todoroki Shouto! —“

“I do not see what the problem is,” Shouto asked in confusion, stepping carefully back away from Momo who had halted in dragging him down the hall and had now rounded on him and half cornered him against a wall. 

“Of course you do not,” she muttered irritably, reaching up to run her hands down her face and groan before slamming a hand on the wall beside him, effectively trapping him. “Look—“

“Well, look at you two little lovebirds!”

Shouto visibly bristled , rounding on the intruder and seeing none other than the annoying blonde from 1B. What was his name again? Shouto did not know and did not care.

“We are busy , Monoma,” Momo quietly remarked, barely glancing at the blonde who must be Monoma.

Scoffing, Monoma carried on. “It’s just like you 1A class members to act so unbecoming. Can you two not keep it in your pants to—“

“Monoma.”

The blonde’s words halted immediately, his jaw hanging open from the absolute venom in Momo’s voice. “I…”

Momo was having none of it. “Quiet.”

His jaw clicked shut.

Her finger jabbed at the empty bench just a short way down the hall. “ Sit .”

He looked ready to protest for just a sliver of a second, but then Momo’s head tilted just a fraction, and all attempts at rebelling seemed to vanish, replaced by meek acceptance of his fate. Monoma quiet but hurriedly scurried down the hall, dropping to sit on the bench, barely looking back down the hall at them. He only stole a few glances, face red in embarrassment—

Shouto hoped that was embarrassment.

Shouto looked away from the blonde and towards his friend, and immediately, he could see it. “Momo. No .”

Her eyes were still locked on the blonde who kept his gaze firmly on his feet. A slow grin crept up along her face as she called out, “But he’s such a good boy …”

Monoma’s face grew redder. 

Shouto was not getting involved in this. “I’m leaving.”

She rounded on him. “I’m not done talking to you—“

“And nothing you can say or do is going to make me sit here and watch…whatever in the hell is going on.” Shouto ducked under her arm and began to speed walk away.

“Shouto!”

“ No, Momo! ”

It wasn’t long after that she had reappeared at his side, trailing along through the lunch line before none too subtly steering him to an empty table. Jirou was apparently off talking to Present Mic about an extra credit assignment, so Shouto had Momo’s full attention.

Or he should have had her full attention.

“He’s just so… pretty .”

Shouto frowned. “Till he opens his mouth.” He then shoved a bite of rice in his mouth, chewing irritably. While he had wanted to avoid the interrogation, this is not what he had in mind.

A smirk grew on her face as she cooed, “Oh, I have some ideas about that particular issue…”

“What about Jirou?”

Momo paused, chopsticks hovering in air mid-bite. Blinking owlishly, she asked, “What about her?”

Shouto scowled. “Are you already bored of her?”

Momo looked appalled at the very thought. “Of course not—!”

“Then how can you already be interested in Monoma?”

And then this sort of…understanding, amusement even fell over Momo’s face. “You think…?” She dropped her chopsticks onto her plate, failing to smother a snort. “Shouto, really ?”

His eye twitched. “What is so funny?”

Managing to muffle the worst of her laughter, she looked at him with pure glee. “ Shouto . Please. This is not the same thing.” Picking her chopsticks back up, she twirled them in the air as she waxed poetic. “Kyouka is a collector’s item, a prize piece. Something meant to be kept close and cherished, treated with the highest esteem and shown off as the star of one’s collection…”

Delicately plucking up a bite of rice to put in her mouth, her smile grew more coy. “And Neito…he is far from that.” Glancing off in the distance at the 1B table, where Monoma was acting rather quiet, she dreamily sighed. “He’s pretty . Like a doll meant to be played with. And you know what happens with toys…”

Monoma happened to glance their way.

Momo smiled.

Monoma’s gaze snapped away.

“You play with them until you're bored, or they break .” She picked up another bite of rice, bringing it to her mouth and chewing thoughtfully as she turned her gaze back to Shouto. “And then they are worthless.”

Shouto felt almost…nauseous at the way Momo described Monoma. He knew that he and Momo had different views on their…fixations. That she collected more than she coveted. But to hear that…

“And myself?”

Her response was immediate. “Treasured and sentimental. Irreplaceable.” She smiled beautifully, but her eyes had a slight, almost unhinged glint to them. “You’re my best friend, and I would forsake anything and everyone for you.”

And despite the violent edge of the answer, Shouto felt almost… calmed by it. Assured, really.

He still pitied Monoma.

She delicately took another bite of her food. “Now, back to the real issue: you arriving with Izuku.”

“…can’t you go back to waxing on about Monoma—“

“Nice try. You may be my dearest friend, but I still will keep you in line. Now, details.”

Chapter Text

“My offer still stands—“

“Momo. We are not making Izuku’s mother disappear.”

She looked a little put out over his insistence. “ Fine .” Walking primly at his side, she clasped her hands in front of herself as she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. “So…you are simply going to continue these… study dates?”

He ignored her tone. “For now.”

She huffed. “And I thought my methods were slow…”

“You have been working on your project for longer—“

“Mine did not already have an interest in me when I started—“

“What?” Shouto asked dumbly, stopping in place. “You think—“

“Oh my god,” Momo whispered as she stopped and looked at him. “You really cannot see it.”

“See what?”

She just shook her head, turning back around and heading to class.

Shouto hurried after her. “See what ?”

Momo did not answer his question. Any attempts to ask were met with blank stares and vague promises of “just let me handle some things,” as well as a moment of him coming back from the bathroom to see what looked like her whisper ranting to Jirou who in turn looked like she wanted to laugh.

And then Jirou turned around and saw him and did proceed to laugh.

He took a calming breath. 

At least he was able to look forward to some time after school with Izuku today. That’s what he kept telling himself.

…of course he had to jinx himself.

Because stepping out of the building, he could see his Izuku standing at the gates. He could see how the other teen looked around desperately, his posture stiff, his smile strained…and he could see Uraraka.

He could see how she was touching what was his.

She was standing pressed to Izuku’s side, arms linked as she chattered away excitedly, not at all noticing Izuku’s discomfort. She was so blatant , so bold . She had always been a physically affectionate person, but the way she leaned into him, the way her hands held his arm, the way she tilted her head and let her cheek rest on Izuku’s shoulder—

Were it not for her being so close to Izuku and Iida standing next to them, nodding along to whatever she said, Shouto might have snapped .

And as he paused his steps, willed away the frost from his hand and steam spewing from his mouth, he finally understood what Aizawa said yesterday in the alley, when they had seen the body, when they had discussed what that serial killer had done— 

“You won’t get to that point unless necessary.”

His hand twitched .

At that point, Izuku looked up to see him, and for a moment, all he could see was the utter relief on Izuku’s face, the flash of excitement in his fixation’s eyes, how he immediately began to pull away from Uraraka, not even seeming to care about her startled protest—but something must have been on Shouto’s face. Something must have been wrong , because Izuku paused near immediately, his expression turning worried.

That simply would not do.

Striding forward without a clear thought in mind, Shouto beelined to Izuku whose expression quickly shifted from worried to confused and maybe even a tinge bit panicked. Izuku hesitantly began to call out, “Todoroki-kun, what’s wrong— Eh?! ”

Shouto did not think as he swiftly grabbed Izuku and enveloped him tightly in a hug, burying his face into the shorter teen’s shoulder. He did not care about the shout from Iida about PDA not being appropriate, did not care that anyone walking by could see them: all he cared about was holding what was his . 

And he found himself quite enjoying the strangled sound Izuku made in place of words. 

Holding a little tighter, he murmured a quiet, “Sorry…it was a long day,” into Izuku’s neck, hoping that the boy’s tender heart would allow him this affection.

And as he felt Izuku relax in his arms, he knew he had played his cards just right. “Because of yesterday?…”

He let out a quiet hum. Honestly, the dead body thing was becoming a very useful ploy in his arsenal. 

He felt a hand rest on his head, and he practically melted. Then, he heard Izuku ask, “Do we need to cancel the study session today?”

He shook his head as best he could without lifting it up. “Spending time with you is more calming than going home.”

Oh, he was laying the trauma bit on thick . The hand on his head tightened ever so slightly, and Izuku murmured, “Iida and Uraraka asked to join us…is that okay?”

A petty part of him hissed a loud no in the back of his mind, imagining taking the offending arm that had touched what was his and burning it down to a useless stump. But as he finally glanced up from where his face was nestled into Izuku’s neck, glancing back at the pair behind his fixation—

He smirked, his mouth still hidden in Izuku’s shirt though he was sure his eyes conveyed everything. “No, their presence won’t affect anything.”

And it took all of his will power to not laugh at the bitter, ugly jealousy rooted in Uraraka’s eyes.

No, he did not need to laugh.

She had pressed a challenge, but in the end, they both knew who won this round.

But as he finally began to pull back from Izuku, still staying tucked in close, he began to muse to himself. While he had discounted Momo’s offer to remove Izuku’s mother from the picture…

He eyed Uraraka as the girl plastered on a smile, moving in close to flank Izuku on his other side.

Shouto casually slipped an arm over Izuku’s shoulders, asking him about his thoughts on the new All Might documentary coming out next month.

He would have to see what her thoughts were on removing classmates.

“Kill a classmate, and you are expelled.”

Shouto dodged a strike, smoothly spinning around and landing in a crouch, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. He glanced up at his teacher, quirking a brow at the man. “So, no jail time?”

He found himself flying through the air within a flash, hitting the ground hard .

“Cheeky little shit…” Aizawa was standing above him, trying to look cross, but Shouto could read him too well by now.

He could see the amusement in the man’s eyes. 

Shouto wheezed, trying to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him. “The question still stands—“

“As if I would risk you going to jail with all the dirt you have on me.” Translation? Some small, twisted part of Aizawa’s cold, dead heart did care. 

Not that Shouto would ever say that aloud. Despite appearances, he did not like eating mat. 

A hand was held out to him, and Shouto accepted it…only to be dragged to his feet, his arm twisted behind his back and yanked into a painful position before he could even react.

“But I would be very disappointed if you were to get caught,” Aizawa drawled. He twisted the arm in his grasp a little more, eliciting a pained grunt from Shouto. “Do you understand?”

Resisting the urge to use his quirk, Shouto muttered out a stiff, “Yes, Sensei.” A pause, and then his arm was released, causing him to stumble forward. He began to shake his arm, trying to work out the tension in it, as he called out, “Besides, as tempting as it would be, the risk is higher than the reward.”

“Oh, is it now?” Aizawa called out as he moved to drop down on the edge of the mat, gesturing for Shouto to do so as well. “And why is that?”

Shouto followed suit, sitting a defendable distance away from his teacher who he needed to stay reasonably wary of in a sparring setting. “It’s…complicated.”

Aizawa’s head tilted slightly. “Complicated?”

“Yes.”

“Because the complicated part is a girl who is touching something that does not belong to her and nearly lost an arm.”

Shouto frowned. “Izuku is not a thing .”

Aizawa sighed. “ That is what you take away from what I said?”

Doing his best to not snark back, Shouto took a breath. “Killing her would cause…issues. Scrutiny on our class, more eyes on UA, more of that bullshit about if the school can keep us safe .” Scowling at the floor, he snarked, “I wouldn’t put it past Izuku’s mom to pull him from UA if things grew more… tense .”

Nodding, Aizawa smiled at him, looking distinctly pleased. “It’s good to know you have a decent head on your shoulders.”

There was no way Shouto was going to admit that all of the reasoning he just stated was from Momo. They had spoken extensively after the study session, which honestly devolved into Izuku and Tenya being oblivious and chattering about Quirk history and Ochako and Shouto glaring at each other from across the table.

Shouto snagged the booth seat next to Izuku, and that was all that mattered. 

Still, he had suggested some…in retrospect, rash ideas that Momo quickly shot down. Aizawa did not need to know this, however. 

…though the look on the man’s face suggested he already knew that.

But Aizawa did not call him out. Instead, he asked, “And it looks like you have something else to add?…”

Shouto grit his teeth, glaring a hole into the mat. “…Izuku would be sad if the bitch died.”

Aizawa clucked his tongue. “Do not call Uraraka a bitch.” Shouto moved to snap at him, only for Aizawa to cut him off. “The more you think it and speak it, the more likely you are to slip up and call her such in a public setting. And besides…she does not deserve that level of irritation.” Rolling his head lazily to the side, the teacher seemed so…relaxed, casual as he spoke. “However…this has the potential to be a good learning point for you.”

Shouto felt tense, watching Aizawa carefully. Up until now, most of their ‘lessons’ consisted of brutal quirkless sparring and Aizawa info dumping random but rather useful tidbits of information, mostly things about hiding your tracks and how to behave around those not in the know. Nothing too extreme, but helpful in their own ways.

But this sounded different . “A learning point?”

Aizawa’s head tilted ever so slightly, as if assessing Shouto for signs of weakness, of backing down from a challenge. “Consider this your first official test.”

Shouto straightened. “What?”

“She is a variable, a hindrance to you and your fixation. She’s nothing but trouble,” he continued, looking far too pleased with himself. “So, time to use your resources, remember what I’ve taught you. Use all of this to take the variable out of the equation.”

Aizawa leaned forward, a manic grin spreading across his face.

“By next semester, I want you to remove the threat that is Uraraka Ochako…by any means necessary.”