Chapter Text
The kids’ free weekend had actually gone smoothly…well, as smoothly as it could when Shouta’s hell class was concerned.
Finding out Kaminari was still being targeted had been worrying, but the entrance hall (unlike the locker rooms) had a security camera, so it was only a matter of time before they narrowed down who was responsible. Kaminari wasn’t the only kid to stay behind for the weekend—and if Shouta himself had spent a little more time in the dorm than absolutely necessary, no one had to know.
Especially Hizashi.
But, of course, something had to go wrong. And he didn’t even realize it until Monday morning.
It was normal for Todoroki to arrive late on Sundays when he went home. Shouta knew Endeavor was training the kid, and even if he didn’t like it, he technically couldn’t do anything about it. Not as long as Todoroki was keeping up in class, in both the classroom and physical training. Not if the kid himself wouldn’t say anything, just looked at Shouta with that expressionless stare whenever he heavily hinted to his class that they could come to him about anything.
So, when Todoroki never showed up on Sunday, Shouta hadn’t started to worry. The dorms were still relatively new. If his father had him back by first bell in the morning, he’d let it pass. Just remind him that next time he needed to be in the dorm before curfew on Sunday.
But first bell came and went, and no Todoroki.
The class had seemed worried—particularly Midoriya and Yaoyorozu. There’d been a few whispered conversations he hadn’t commented on, and he kept checking his phone for any notifications from Endeavor about his son’s absence.
Nothing. Not for first period or second period. He left his third-year teaching assistant to oversee his class third period and slouched in the hall outside the classroom to try to call the kid’s father.
Shouta was passed around from secretary to secretary to sidekick, none of which were on Todoroki’s emergency contact form. They’d all assured him they would tell Endeavor to contact him at his earliest convenience, but none would put him through to the man himself. He was busy. He was on patrol. He was in a meeting. He was unavailable.
He hung up in frustration and dialed the next number, surprised when the call was picked up almost immediately.
“Hello?”
“Miss Todoroki?”
“I—yes? May I ask who’s calling?”
“Shouta Aizawa. I’m your brother’s homeroom teacher.”
She gasped. “Is Shouto okay?”
“I was hoping you could tell me. He never returned to school after his visit home.”
Miss Todoroki was silent on the other line for a few long seconds. “Have you called my father?”
“I have not been able to get in contact with him.”
“I see. I’ll try to get ahold of him, see if he knows anything. If he comes back in the meantime….”
“I’ll let you know,” Shouta promised. He hung up his phone and shoved the door to his classroom open just as his teaching assistant was starting to flounder over the material. “Quirk law amendments, Kageyama,” he announced, making the entire class snap to attention. “You know this. Keep going.”
His hand stayed in his pocket, touching his phone. Waiting for the buzz of a call or message.
…
The day seemed to crawl by as Shouta waited. He saw his hell class again, and they all clamored for news about Todoroki. Apparently, the kid wasn’t answering his classmate’s texts, which was worrying. Even if he was hiding from his father and teachers, Todoroki wasn’t the kind to let his friends worry for nothing. He’d at least talk to Midoriya—who’d somehow broken through his shell during the sports festival.
More class periods rolled by with no word. Todoroki’s sister sent him a message after a few hours, saying she’d finally made contact with her father but he’d been too busy to talk.
And so he waited. And waited. The morning passed, and lunch was nearly finished (and he’d already started grabbing teachers to cover his afternoon classes so he could drive out to the Todoroki estate himself) when he finally got a call. He answered it without checking the number, unable to fight the faint hope that it could be Todoroki himself calling.
“Eraserhead.”
Endeavor’s voice was unpleasant as always, and Shouta rolled his eyes at the use of his hero name in a setting like this.
“Endeavor.”
“I don’t have time for this. What do you want?”
Shouta grit his teeth. “Your son hasn’t returned to campus yet.”
“Shouto?”
He wanted to snark back—no, Endeavor had a secret third son that Shouta hadn’t seen since the training camp—but bit that back. “No one’s heard of him since he left Friday night.”
Endeavor snorted. “It’s his own fault if he isn’t back yet.”
Something curdled in Shouta’s gut. “What was that?”
“He’s let himself get soft living in the dorms. He needed special training.”
Shouta felt his hair rising on end. He didn’t like this. Endeavor sounded too dismissive at the knowledge that his teenage son hadn’t been heard from. “What kind of special training?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Eraser.”
“Your son is my student,” he replied, unable to keep the growl out of his voice. “That makes it my business. Where is he?”
…
Three days earlier
The car rolled to a stop, and Shouto climbed out of the backseat before his father could say another word. The area around them was unfamiliar, too high up in the mountains for him to see any recognizable landmarks.
Endeavor stalked up behind him, leaving a long shadow stretched out on the road ahead. Night was falling soon. He hadn’t eaten before he’d left the dorms, thinking about sharing a meal with his sister.
That had been a mistake.
“You’ve grown weaker, Shouto.”
He rolled his eyes, keeping his gaze mulishly fashioned on the road ahead, not reacting to the old man’s words. Things had been different since the disastrous training camp. Physical training was still a focus at UA, but they’d been learning other things, too. Endurance training. Self defense. Fighting without a Quirk. Breaking out of holds and grapples. Mr. Aizawa was pushing them, but in ways other than physical strength.
Too bad that wasn’t what the old man saw.
He saw UA teaching them how to work together and strength each other and called it weakness. If you needed someone to watch your blind spot, you just weren’t strong enough. To Endeavor, every situation called for overwhelming power.
Endeavor would see Bakugou holding Shouto back to let Dark Shadow take care of the villain in the forest and say he was relying on those beneath him because he was weak.
Mr. Aizawa actively encouraged that kind of cooperation. He’d been visibly relieved that they’d managed to subdue Moonfish without further injury to their group.
“I’m leaving you supplies for one day,” Endeavor announced, dropping a pack at Shouto’s feet. “From here, I expect you to find your way back to UA on your own.”
He shot his father a look, narrowing his eyes. Endeavor stared back, the flames on his beard burning higher as his face tensed in anger. Shouto looked away, scowling.
“Shouto.” Endeavor’s hand was heavy on his shoulder, and fingers caught his chin to force him to meet his father’s eyes again. “Get stronger.”
And then he was in the car, driving away, leaving Shouto on the side of the road. He didn’t have his phone or wallet, and he only had supplies for one day.
He shouldered the pack with a heavy sigh and started making his way back down the road toward the city.