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Aizawa Shota marched through the evacuation sight. He was one of few heroes that had come out of the war with minimal injuries, while almost all his students were lying on stretchers being treated by doctors, some more severe than others. The sight of Bakugo’s lifeless eyes and Midoriya’s severed arms hadn’t left his mind, and the sheer number of other injuries his kids had sustained were enough to make him sick. He’d already thrown up outside once. Uraraka, Jiro, Tokoyami… He tried not to linger on it for too long as he checked up on each of them, hanging around just long enough to reassure himself that they were being properly treated. Nineteen of his students were wrapped up in their parents’ arms safe and sound, but there was still one unaccounted for, and quite possibly the one he was the most worried about.
The last he’d seen Todoroki he’d been walking beside his father as he was taken away on a stretcher. He was covered in soot and blood, his hero costume ripped and burned to shreds. Shota wasn’t sure the extent of his injuries, but if they were anything like the first time, he’d fought Dabi, the kid should be bandaged from head-to-toe and resting in bed. When Todoroki arrived on the battlefield during the first war, Shota had been too out of it to even realise it was him. The last thing he’d remembered was a wall of ice tearing Shigaraki off him. After that, he woke up in hospital to a distraught Hizashi, a deceased friend, and Dabi’s broadcast detailing all the dirty secrets of the number one hero. He still kicked himself that he hadn’t been there to support Todoroki during the fight, that he hadn’t supported Todoroki for the year he’d known him. Eraserhead specialised in the kind of villainous activities that went on behind closed doors. Drug dealings, quirk trafficking, domestic abuse. How had he missed all the signs Todoroki had displayed? In hindsight, it was clear as day. The blank expressions, the poor social skills, the emotional outbursts while sparring. No, Shota knew why he hadn’t seen the signs, because he—and likely everyone else—hadn’t bothered to look.
Almost an hour had passed before Shota found him. Todoroki stood outside a row of curtained stalls. They were the makeshift operating rooms while it still wasn’t safe enough for people to be taken to hospital. Heroes that were still on their feet were patrolling the country, securing zones so their injured could be transferred as soon as possible. Recovery Girl reached her limit long ago, healing anyone else was out of the question. Todoroki looked like he should be in one of those stalls not standing outside them. Blood was slicked down his arms and there were deep cuts where his gauntlets had broken and sliced into the skin. His regulator was broken and half hanging off his back. The tears on his hero costume left most of his chest out bare and Shota could see the dark splodges around his abdomen that were the undeniable signifier of internal bleeding. The few patches of his skin that weren’t matted in blood and burns were pasty, too pale even for him. His nose was still dripping blood and sat askew on his face, definitely broken. Shota wouldn’t be surprised if there were more broken bones littering his body. There was a tremble to his hands, like the adrenaline was still pumping through him and he had no way to expel it, and he stared unblinkingly at the curtains.
What was he doing all alone? he thought. Surely after everything, his mother and siblings would’ve been beside him in an instant to take care of him. He didn’t know Todoroki Rei and Natsuo very well but based on the few interactions he’d had with Fuyumi, she seemed like the typical overbearing older sister that would smother her younger brothers over something as simple as a papercut. Where the hell were they? Had they all gone to Dabi and left Todoroki alone? Shota approached him cautiously, making sure he was clearly in Todoroki’s field of vision before he spoke. ‘Todoroki? Can you hear me?’
It took a moment, but he nodded slowly, shakily. He didn’t take his eyes of the curtain in front of him, barely acknowledging Shota was there.
If it had been anyone else, Shota would’ve put a hand on their shoulder. But he’d seen the kid flinch more than a few times at physical contact and doubted it would be a welcome sensation when he was so far lost in his own head. ‘You look pretty hurt, kid. We should get someone to take a look at you. Your mother and siblings are probably worried sick. Let’s go find them, alright?’
Todoroki didn’t move, except for the shudder that wracked down his spine. Shota’s stomach dropped. Had something happened? He knew one of the evacuation sites had received damage during the battle, but class B had assured them there were no major injuries.
‘Wait here a sec,’ he said and walked up to the curtain, blocking Todoroki’s line of sight with his body. ‘It’s pro hero Eraserhead, can I come in?’
A nurse was quick to poke their head through the curtain. ‘I’m sorry Eraserhead-san, Todoroki-san is still in surgery. Shoto-kun will have to wait until she’s settled in recovery.’
She? ‘Which Todoroki?’
The nurse retreated at the demand, looking down to their gloved hands. ‘Umm… well… Todoroki Rei-san is in here with us, but I believe Endeavor-san, Fuyumi-san, and Natsuo-san are in the other stalls being treated too.’
Shota’s eye widened. ‘Treated for what?’
‘We were told they all ran out from the evacuation site to go and face Dabi. They’re all being treated for third and fourth-degree burns.’
Shota’s heart plummeted and he shot a glance back at Todoroki. His lip quivered and his breaths came out harsh and fast. The nurse long forgotten, Shota ran back to Todoroki and crouched in front of him. ‘Shoto? Look at me please, can you do that?’
Todoroki’s head turned robotically, eyes locking in place with Shota’s. There was dried blood and frozen tears around his eyelids and his jaw was clenched tight as he lost control of his breathing.
‘Okay, kid, let’s try and slow your breaths alright? Can you copy me? Breathe in for five. One… two… three… four… five… and out.’ He gestured with his hands as he took deep breaths, instructing Todoroki to do the same. It was hard enough to keep his own breathing steady with how his thoughts spiralled through his head. Why had no one treated Todoroki yet? Why had he waited so long to check on him? Why after everything that had happened was this poor kid still nothing more than an afterthought in everyone’s minds?
Todoroki’s breathing levelled out briefly but seemed to sputter and pick up again without warning. This wasn’t working, Shota thought. The chains of panic and anguish were wrapped so tightly around Todoroki and weren’t planning to let him go anytime soon.
‘Eraserhead-san.’ The nurse was back out of the curtain, syringe in hand. ‘I have a light sedative here that could help Shoto-kun. And I’ve paged every available doctor to come and help.’
Shota eyed the syringe. He didn’t like the idea of sedating Todoroki when he was in such a vulnerable position, but he had no idea how injured the kid was and based on the wheezes and winces that came with each breath, Todoroki was struggling to stay upright. The adrenaline still pumping through him was likely the only reason he hadn’t yet collapsed. ‘Shoto, listen to me, okay? The nurse has brought out a sedative to help you calm down. You’re hurt and we need to treat you. Is that alright?’
Todoroki shook his head frantically and let out a choaked gasp. He took a step away from Shota and nearly toppled over. Shota threw a hand out to steady him if needed, but abstained from making contact.
‘I know, kid. I know. I’ll be with you the whole time and I’ll keep you updated on your family, but we really need to check on your injuries. It’ll be one less thing your family has to worry about when they wake up, yeah? You think you can do that?’ He reached out his hand again.
The boy choaked and sobbed, but no tears fell. His tear ducts must still be frozen over. Painfully slowly he placed a shaky hand into Shota’s own and he wrapped himself around his student. Todoroki melted into the hold, burying his head into the crook of Shota’s neck and clutching the fabric of his costume.
‘I’ve got you kid, you’re okay.’ Shota ran his hand through the matted miss-matched hair, resting his chin on his student’s head.
The nurse leaned down beside them and readied the syringe. ‘You’re going to feel a slight pinch, Shoto-kun, and then you should start feeling better.’
He felt Todoroki tense as the needle was plunged into his shoulder. Shota kept a tight hold and whispered reassurances as he slowly relaxed, succumbing to the effects of the sedative. As his eyes began to droop, Shota swooped him up into his arms and the nurse guided him to the nearest stretcher.
His other students would be fine for now, their families would keep them safe as they recovered from the atrocities they’d faced in the war. Shota would stay by Todoroki’s side for as long as he needed to feel safe again, for as long as his family couldn’t be there to support him, for as long as it took for the rest of class A to break out of their own hospital beds and run to his side. He’d stay by Shoto as long as it took for him to realise he wasn’t alone. If the nurse noticed the tears streaming from his eye, they didn’t mention it.