Work Text:
Shouto Todoroki did not understand what the big deal was.
To be clear, he understood some of the big deal. Midoriya was in the hospital room, again, and that was absolutely a big deal. Midoriya needed to be treated by Recovery Girl far more than Shouto was sure was normal, even taking in his own proclivity to small injuries and discreet hospital visits. That was certainly a cause for concern, and the fact that the person who was responsible had already left before Shouto could get his hands on him –
Well, that was also a big deal, in his mind. And he could understand why it was a big deal for Uraraka, Tsuyu, and Iida too – they were also friends with Midoriya, so obviously they considered it a big deal for the smaller boy to be in the hospital room. And given Iida’s bloodthirsty side, it certainly made sense that the other boy was more tense and rigid than usual for not having gotten his hands on Mineta before the boy was summarily kicked out of UA.
Expulsion was too good for the other boy; they should have at least been able to literally kick him out. There was no point in the expression if it wasn’t actually what they were allowed to do.
Tension and concern about Midoriya, that made sense, for some people in the class. It was odd, to see it in people that rarely spoke to Midoriya, but Shouto could understand that other people felt concern more easily than he himself did. They had the luxury of expending their emotions more freely. This was especially true for boys like Kaminari and Kirishima, who wore their emotions in dazzlingly open, confusing arrays. And Midoriya was a very easy person to have emotions to display about, Shouto could admit that as well.
But the other things people were making big deals of, Shouto did not understand those.
It had been hours since Aizawa’s declaration at the beginning of homeroom – it was lunch now, and some of his classmates were walking around as though dazed.
It had, in hindsight, been so obvious that Aizawa was an omega, he couldn’t understand why people were so shocked by it. Even discounting the little behaviors Aizawa exhibited – his penchant for sleeping in that fluffy looking yellow abomination for one – his protectiveness was far beyond what any alpha would do. He had gone nearly feral at the USJ, protecting them, he still stood in at every one of All Might’s classes, eyes narrowed and suspicious, waiting for any more slip ups, he glared at other teachers if he thought they were standing too close to Class 1-A, and even during his power naps while the students were fast away at independent work, Shouto had never felt that Aizawa’s vigilance had ever truly gone away. Even asleep, there was some part of Aizawa watching, waiting for any and all threats that could harm the students in his care.
Shouto knew, in fact, that Aizawa’s vigilance was never fully relaxed, because every time something bad happened in the classroom – no matter how small – Aizawa’s eyes were open, assessing the situation before half the class had even realized something had happened. Kaminari accidentally zapping himself with Mina’s new electronic pencil sharpener was met with a tired voice reminding them all they needed to warn the boy before giving him electronic devices. Momo looking peaky after a particularly long hero class because she had miscalculated the amount she would need to eat was assuaged by a fruit pouch wordlessly being passed over. Midoriya squeaking in surprise because Uraraka had called him cute and he wasn’t expecting it was met with a quick gaze assessing any potential danger.
Alphas weren’t that type of protective – this was an obvious, glaring truth that Shouto had thought everyone had known. They didn’t watch over the little things, eyes wary and watchful for small hurts and discomforts, the way Aizawa did. They weren’t built for that kind of caring when they were built for caring at all. That was just a simple fact; Shouto would have thought everyone knew that and would have easily accepted the truth.
Evidently, though, others hadn’t known that, and having an omega teacher was apparently far more of a big deal than Shouto would have thought possible.
It was ridiculous – omegas filled up the vast majority of teaching jobs within Japan, of course there would be some in UA, even if omega heroes were basically unheard of. And if people didn’t think omegas were good at protecting children, especially in their high-powered society with villains roaming free all the time, why would they leave the most vulnerable to people who couldn’t keep them safe?
Even his old man, as much of a stain on humanity as he was, had never questioned Fuyumi’s ability to watch over Shouto in the few years between their mother’s hospitalization and the age he had been deemed too old for frivolous outings. And there had been several foiled kidnappings.
Shouto did not fear his old man, not really, because he knew he would never do anything more terrible than he already did on the regular, but he did fear Fuyumi. Watching a man’s entire hand turn necrotic from frostbite because it had grabbed onto the obnoxiously red sweater his sister had forced him to wear was enough to cement a reasonably healthy amount of fear, after all.
Fuyumi could be terrifying and she made for an excellent teacher. It only made sense that Aizawa was the same. He didn’t know why others didn’t see it as plainly as he did or why they were so weirded out by it.
If the reaction Aizawa hadn’t been ridiculous enough, the reaction to Midoriya was even more so. Shouto could understand the surprise, to an extent. Midoriya did a very thorough job of hiding his secondary sex and whatever he couldn’t hide – his skittishness and small stature to name a few – could be explained away by his quirklessness. Add that to the fact that there had been practically no omega hero students in the entire history of UA – a fact he had only learned because of Midoriya – and he could understand the surprise. He himself had been surprised, upon finding out that Midoriya was an omega, although that had mostly been because Midoriya had been in a full-blown preheat and had still been doing a thorough job of beating Shouto all across the arena.
Shouto’s nose sometimes still twitched at the memory of Midoriya’s nearly overpoweringly preheat strengthened scent, all wildflowers and fresh spring plants, although he didn’t much like to dwell on that. Fuyumi had taught him it was impolite to say anything about people’s scents and he didn’t think Midoriya would appreciate being told he smelled nice, anyway. The phantom ache in his ribs whenever he remembered that day was enough to convince him not to say anything; the last time Kaminari had surprised Midoriya with a sneak-compliment and an arm slung over the smaller boy’s shoulder, he had ended up face first in the trash can, pushed by a surprised and very apologetic Midoriya. Shouto had no desire to succumb to such a fate, no matter how entertaining Midoriya’s blushing could be.
The point was, of course it was surprising that Midoriya was an omega. Surprise was understandable; the amount of disbelief some of his classmates displayed, and the massive deal they were making about the information was not.
Midoriya being an omega was no more surprising than his lack of a quirk, and most of their classmates had already accepted that. Midoriya had more than proved himself a capable fighter, and a strong hero-to-be, more so than most of their classmates, and it shouldn’t have mattered that he was an omega any more than it mattered that some of their classmates were girls.
Although, if he thought about it more, that also probably did matter to some of his classmates. People were, Shouto had learned, astonishingly stupid and confusing when it came to even the most obvious things. Someone’s sex and gender were apparently one of those things.
Shouto wasn’t oblivious to the biases that came with being a girl or being an omega, although they certainly didn’t affect him the same way; his mother had suffered cruelly because she was an omega and his father an asshole, after all. But he would have thought, even with all the biases, their classmates would have known, if they were to know anything at all, not to underestimate Izuku Midoriya.
The boy literally did everything they did at the same level, if not a higher one, without the aid of any preternatural, innate special ability. He was the best of all of them when it came to analysis, and easily in the top three when it came to battle strategy, right up there with Yaoyorozu and Bakugou, he had fought Stain –
Not that their classmates knew that last one, of course, but anyone who had spent more than five minutes with Midoriya – particularly around a Midoriya who felt an injustice had been committed against anyone besides himself – would know he would 100% fight Stain. He stayed ready, as he had once heard Ashido gleefully whisper after watching Midoriya easily flip Sero using the other boy’s own tape, thwarting what most of them had thought would be a successful sneak attack in their battle training.
They didn’t have to know the last part, really. They all had eyes, they all knew Midoriya.
Sure, statistically, Midoriya was improbable. Shouto knew that – even if he wasn’t friends with Midoriya, his father had drilled into him all sorts of facts and figures about hero work. Shouto knew, statistically, Midoriya was more likely to be a civilian victim than someone doing the saving. Statistically, he was more likely to not finish his high school courses, more likely to start a family early. More likely to be the victim of domestic abuse, like Shouto’s own mother. More likely for a lot of things that came nowhere near what he was trying to be. Shouto could understand being a little puzzled by it, could understand being curious about what drove Midoriya to do what he did – the boy was puzzling, odd, frustrating even, sometimes. Shouto could understand feeling a lot about Midoriya.
Friendship, for certain. Pride, in having a friend so determined and strong. Baffled, at how much trouble someone so small could possibly get into. Honored, to be someone that a boy like Midoriya would call a friend. Afraid, because Midoriya always seemed in the middle of the worst of situations and what if someday Shouto came to late to help. Happy, because it was impossible for someone to be anything less when Midoriya smiled at them.
All these emotions, Shouto felt all the time around Midoriya. All these, he understood when he saw them reflected on Iida’s or Tsuyu’s or Uraraka’s faces. When he saw them on Aizawa’s face or that time they had danced in Hawks’ piercing gaze in Hosu, he knew what drove them.
But doubt, disbelief, uncertainty, skepticism, long-lasting shock? None of those he understood, but they seemed written on far too many of his classmates’ faces.
They must have been stupid, that was the only explanation that made sense. It was stupidity to doubt Midoriya, stupidity to not believe in him or his abilities.
Midoriya was a lot of things, but a failure was not one of them.
Shouto would not stand for anyone in the class deluding themselves otherwise.
Even if it made Midoriya unhappy if he found out, Shouto would not allow it. Everyone was making a big deal out of stupid things, and it would make Midoriya sad to know that too. So Shouto simply would not allow it. Neither, he knew, would Uraraka or Iida or Tsuyu.
Midoriya would not be back in class the rest of the day, which gave Shouto plenty of time to rectify the idiocy around him. It was only lunchtime after all, and he had already written down the names of everyone whose faces had lingered a little too long on surprise or whose frantic whispers had carried a little too far.
By the time Midoriya came back, things would not be the same. But they wouldn’t be bad either. Shouto would ensure it.
Starting with finding out if Mineta’s replacement was a foe or an ally.
Midoriya had fought Hitoshi Shinsou and the boy seemed to have an impossibly close relationship with Aizawa. Shouto had been wrong about Midoriya’s relationship with their teacher, but there was no denying something was going on between Shinsou and Aizawa. And his hair had the same gravity-defying qualities of Present Mic’s, who Shouto knew was also close to Aizawa.
If Aizawa had a secret love child in their classroom who had fought Midoriya and been raised by two heroic parents, he was likely to be an ally.
Plus, Midoriya would likely smile if he found out Shouto had made a new acquaintance, which would balance out the other boy’s frown when he found out Shouto and Uraraka had threatened all their other classmates.
Shouto didn’t think either of those actions were a big deal, either, but Midoriya probably would so balancing them out was probably the right course of action.