Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Alright, everyone in their seats.”

Shouto found it slightly amusing how quickly everyone managed to get into their seats the second the command left Aizawa’s mouth.

Their teacher just sighed, walking out from behind his podium and towards Aoyama.

“Alright. I’m passing out a sheet with important information on it. This will be necessary for today’s topic and the upcoming quiz, so don’t lose it.”

He fixed a pointed glare at Kaminari, inciting a couple snickers from around the room. Shouto merely took the copy Tokoyami was handing him.

How to Recognize Signs of Child Abuse.

Shouto felt his blood run cold. This almost felt like a targeting, if Aizawa would do such a thing. Shouto forced himself to relax; if Aizawa suspected anything about his home life, he would’ve just said so. He wasn’t the type to beat around the bush in such a backhanded way.

He tried not to sink into his chair as the lecture commenced. Doing anything that resembled the behavior they were discussing in class would only incite suspicion. Shouto made sure to take a deep breath to keep his heart from stuttering. He could make it through this lecture, and hopefully most of the class would forget about the signs anyway.

“A child may be afraid to tell anyone about the abuse, especially if the abuser is a parent, other relative or family friend.” Aizawa was saying, glancing about the classroom. He didn’t even stop on Shouto, though he still felt himself nearly jump out of his skin when he met Aizawa’s eyes briefly. “They might end up withdrawing inward if you try to pry any information out of them, so be cautious. Abuse is a serious issue.”

Shouto tried not to feel guilty about that statement. His situation really hadn’t been that bad. He didn’t need to be treated gently, no one needed to care about what was going on in his home life. Shouto was just overreacting, is all. He wasn’t even really abused, so to think that he was remotely related to this, even for a minute, was ridiculous.

He shoved down the guilt building in his gut. There were definitely a lot of kids who had it worse than he did. He had no right to think he deserved the attention Aizawa was talking about. He hadn’t been abused, just raised with a more aggressive parenting tactic.

He was fine. Absolutely fine.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel the prickle of being watched, though whenever he surveyed the room no one was looking at him.

You’re just being paranoid . Shouto chastised himself. Stop overreacting. You have nothing to complain about .

Shouto had to repeat this mantra of his lack of relation to this topic for the remainder of the lesson, almost letting himself sigh in relief as Aizawa dismissed the class before reminding himself that he had no reason to feel relieved at all.

You were not abused . He snapped internally. Stop trying to seek attention for yourself and face it: there’s nothing wrong with your home life. There’s just something wrong with you that makes you try to relate yourself to that .

It was disgusting, how Shouto didn’t really believe it when he told it to himself, but he remained steadfast to the thought process until he could recite it perfectly. He had no right to believe he’d been abused.

He was almost certain that his classmates were watching him as they changed into their hero costumes later that day. He was worried someone would point out the bruises along his torso and was quickly formulating an excuse, though it was never brought up in the end.

He almost had a full-on panic attack when Kirishima hit him in just the wrong place during their spar, inciting Shouto to whimper pitifully when his bruise was irritated. Shouto certainly didn’t want to have to explain to Kirishima why he’d just made that wretched noise, and instead began a quick, somewhat sloppy counterattack. But it had the desired effect, distracting Kirishima well enough that he didn’t bring it up even after class had ended.

One thing’s for sure: Shouto had been on edge since their lesson, and he didn’t even know why. Now that he’d gone through his repetitive thought process enough times, he had convinced himself that his home condition truly wasn’t that big of a deal, that it wasn’t as concerning as he’d initially thought. If it had been abuse, then Shouto would exhibit more of the signs, right?

Shouto was making his way up to his room when Midoriya stopped him.

“Hey, Todoroki!” He called. Shouto did his best not to flinch as Midoriya came to a stop in front of him.

“What is it, Midoriya?”

“Do you want to join us for movie night?” Midoriya asked, giving him a bright smile. “Today was pretty long, at least to me, so I thought we could all unwind so we don’t wake up stressed tomorrow.”

Shouto mulled the thought over. Frankly, he felt as though he’d just barely made it through the day without giving anything away—though there was nothing to give away in the first place—so the thought of spending a couple more hours around the people he was hiding from might as well be his personal hell.

“Maybe another night, Midoriya.” Shouto turned towards the stairwell, raising a placating hand towards his friend. “I’m a bit tired, so I think I’ll head to bed pretty soon.”

Midoriya nodded in understanding. “Of course. You do what feels best. But if you change your mind, some of us will be down here.”

Shouto nodded in acknowledgement before beginning his climb up the stairs, practically holding his breath until he made it up to the fifth floor and into his dorm room.

He didn’t give himself a moment to breathe as he threw together a bag of clothes and toiletries for a shower downstairs. His anxiety would surely go down as soon as he got rid of these bruises from his last training session with Endeavor a couple days ago. A cold bath with some ice should clear them right up.

He was glad to find that no one was in the bathroom when he began showering, so no one would feel the temperature drop when he formed some ice to use on the sore blotches. Because a couple of the bruises were on his left side, he felt the sting of the harsh ice on his skin, and let out a hiss, once again thankful for the privacy he currently had.

Once he’d finished washing himself up and icing the bruises as long as he dared, he stepped out of the shower and made to dress hastily.

And he was almost done, when the bathroom door swung open, revealing Kirishima.

“Man, those are some nasty bruises.” He remarked, swinging his towel over his shoulder as he made his way to the bench. “No wonder you made that noise when we were sparring. I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.”

Shouto felt himself stiffen.

Great. This is exactly what I was hoping to avoid. Don’t panic, there’s nothing wrong with just a few simple bruises. They’re easily explained.

He just didn’t want Kirishima blaming himself for them.

“Don’t worry,” Shouto began, pulling his shirt over his head before anything else could go wrong. “They’re not from you.”

Kirishima seemed to relax for a moment before frowning.

“Then, where did you get them?” He cocked his head. “I mean, it would make sense if they were from my hardening. But if they’re not, how’d you get such nasty injuries?”

Shouto regrets everything. Why did he have to open his stupid mouth? Now Kirishima might suspect something—which would be completely unwarranted, as there was nothing to suspect. There was nothing wrong, and now Shouto might be giving off the wrong impression entirely.

“Training.” Was all he trusted himself to say. What else could he say? That Endeavor gave him the bruises and various other injuries? That would give Kirishima the wrong assumption that there was something going on in his home life.

His exit might have been a bit awkward and abrupt, but Shouto really felt the need to get out of there. Maybe he’d apologize to Kirishima later. He made a mental note to come up with a better excuse as to why he hurried out of there like that. It might be considered rude.

After the day he’d had, Shouto didn’t think he’d be able to actually get much sleep. Thinking about Endeavor for a whole day didn’t exactly prepare one for an easy night’s sleep. Instead, he conceded to getting ahead on his workload for classes. One thing his Endeavor had taught him without the use of his fists was to always do more than you should. Don’t just succeed; excel.

And so Shouto stayed up for the entire night, surviving off of his medication and juice. Honestly, he’d kill for an energy drink or coffee, but Endeavor had been strictly against letting anything like that anywhere near Shouto. He’d only been allowed juice and tea, but one of those was a bit more… iffy for him nowadays.

Although he was ultimately sure that he could still look perfectly presentable for class tomorrow. It wouldn’t be his first time running on no sleep.

It was their second day of going over the abuse handout. Aizawa had explained that there could be many forms of abuse, typically domestic, but they were mostly focusing on child abuse because that was the primary form of abuse that work study students tended to get involved in through their agencies.

Midoriya was thrilled to learn about how to spot it. This could save tons of kids like Eri who had to go through violence in their homes. He was more than willing to go through these extensive lectures to be able to bring as many kids to safety as possible.

Even after the lecture had ended and they were well on their way to lunch, Midoriya found himself scanning those around him. Even though he knew it was kind of irrational, he couldn’t stop himself from analyzing everyone.

Although, he felt that maybe he was making some people uncomfortable. Todoroki seemed to have noticed Midoriya’s excessive staring around the room, because he seemed to be keeping a stiff eye on Midoriya.

So Midoriya tried to extend some courtesy to his friends and stop analyzing their every move. If someone as undeterrable as Todoroki found it a bit invasive, then that was probably a sign that it should be put away for later.

Speaking of his friend, Todoroki didn’t seem to say much during their break. While he was always a man of few words, he was never outright silent. Midoriya couldn’t tell if he was just tired or if it was something else, but he’d already been invasive enough for today. So he tried to let it go.

Midoriya was glad for the chatter in the locker room as they changed for hero training. It seemed that he wasn’t the only one inadvertently observing people. As a matter of fact, most of his classmates had admitted to doing the same, save for a few like Todoroki and Kacchan.

Training kicked off without a hitch, Aizawa walking around as each student trained in their respective areas this time. He seemed pleased with what he saw, until he came up on Todoroki whom, Midoriya had to admit, he was watching again.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Sure, Todoroki definitely had seemed a bit more stiff than usual the past couple days, Midoriya wasn’t sure exactly how long it had been going on for. But he didn’t think he’d ever seen Todoroki outright jump upon being approached.

“Oh, uh, sir?” Todoroki gathered his bearings quickly, as if he hadn’t just raised his right hand to eliminate the threat. The icy fog coming from Todoroki’s hand fizzled out just as quickly as it had come alive, though Aizawa’s eyes remained fixated on it. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you approach.”

Aizawa frowned. “What was that, Todoroki? This is a relatively safe space, so I don’t know what could’ve caused such a reaction.”

Midoriya tried to not make it obvious that he was no longer practicing his kicks. Thankfully, it seemed that Aizawa’s attention was captured, and no one else had noticed the scene yet.

“Sorry, sir.” Todoroki bowed hastily. “I just- I, uh, don’t really… I don’t like being approached from my, uh…”

Aizawa raised an expectant eyebrow. So unrelenting, as always.

“Go on.”

Todoroki sucked in a breath, seemingly forcing himself to square his shoulders and stand up straight.

“I don’t like being approached from my left side.” His face remained unreadable, but his shoulders hunched ever so slightly. “It’s a slight discomfort of mine.”

Aizawa seemed to put it together easily: something had to have happened for that scar to get there, whatever kind of accident it was. Midoriya seemed to vaguely recall that his mother had spilled hot water on his face. It would explain why Todoroki was a bit wary of people approaching him from that side. Perhaps his peripheral vision had been damaged due to the injury, so he can’t discern objects coming closer from that side? Midoriya’s never thought about it before.

Nonetheless, Aizawa seemed to understand enough, even though he didn’t know anything about how Todoroki got that scar in the first place. He let it go, for now at least, telling Todoroki to get back to work. After fixing Midoriya with a scolding look, Aizawa walked away to survey the others.

Midoriya felt a bit sheepish as Todoroki looked up at him. He must’ve seen the glare Aizawa sent his way. He didn’t seem to like that he was being watched, but turned away nonetheless as he went back to training.

Not wanting to invoke Aizawa’s wrath, Midoriya quickly set his old pace in his training, kicking routinely as his mind wandered.

Why had Midoriya been looking at him? Shouto was uncomfortable with every justification he laid out.

He certainly didn’t want to put Midoriya under the impression that there was something wrong. He shouldn’t let Midoriya be needlessly worried like that. Shouto was certain that Kirishima was already watching him, though he could never catch him in the act. Perhaps after that incident, Shouto would have Aizawa watching him now too.

It was just a little mistake , he wanted to plead. Nothing to be worried about; it’s just that Shouto’s peripheral vision in his left eye was left a little damaged after the… incident, so he can’t see much coming up from that side.

His vision being fuzzy out of the corner of his left eye was disconcerting, and frankly made it easier for him to panic. After he’d lost some sight, Endeavor’s training had begun to be even harder, and it had only gotten him more stern yelling for ‘being weak’.

It was fine. Everything was fine. As long as Shouto didn’t dwell on the what-ifs and how they definitely didn’t tie into anything personal, he’d be able to get through this without tipping anyone off that there was something wrong when there wasn’t.

He might’ve received a few more looks from his classmates when he refused yet another hangout session in the common area in the 1A dorms, but he really felt like he needed to be alone right now.

After all, it was Friday, which meant that he’d be visiting Endeavor over the weekend for another training session. He needed to be well-rested, and mentally prepared. Because even though it wasn’t abuse, it was still an incredibly taxing thing to go through, and he’d need every form of strength he could muster. Sure, he’d pretty much grown out of puking or passing out every time they trained, but there were still moments when he wished he could lay down and surrender without inciting another onslaught of attacks that would make him want to cry.

Or die…

But enough of that. Because it wasn’t often as bad as he made it out to be. Shouto knew he’d be able to get through this one just as he did every visit. And sure, it might be a painful process, but it would have to end. Inevitably, it always did.

And so Shouto set to taking an extra dose of melatonin to guarantee that he’d sleep tonight. Couldn’t have him messing up in the middle of training due to an improper night’s sleep.

Midoriya loved every visit he got to spend with his mother. They’d both shed tears as they reunited at the bus stop, they’d walk together back to the apartment and cook dinner together, which they would then eat while playing an All Might movie in the background.

All in all, Midoriya just loved spending the extra time with his mom now that he didn’t get to see her all that often.

So, as always, it was a tear-filled goodbye as he got back on the bus. Normally he would stay for the whole weekend and go back to the dorms Sunday afternoon. However, his mother would be having someone come to the apartment on Sunday to interview her for a better job than the one she had. Midoriya figured it would be an easier task to fulfill with him out of her hair, so he made his leave on Saturday evening. They could text all about it and talk in person next weekend.

Midoriya knew that everyone else should be staying with their parents until sometime on Sunday. Some of them got back earlier than others, like Aoyama, who always greeted Midoriya at the door with a fresh cheese platter and a sparkling smile. To be fair, he did that for everyone when they returned, but Midoriya was one of the few who accepted it. Many of the rest made excuses, leading to Aoyama being under the impression that most of Class 1A is lactose-intolerant.

If Midoriya was correct, only Todoroki and Aoyama himself were lactose intolerant, though neither of them seemed to care much. And really, it just had to do with how hard their Quirks were on their bodies and immune systems that caused them to be more susceptible to immunity issues, requiring more delicate and refined palettes. Though that didn’t stop Aoyama from practically inhaling cheese whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Midoriya would have to formulate ideas on how exactly certain Quirks affected the user’s body later in his journal, once he finished his analysis of the logistics of how Kaminari could charge himself.

He pushed the door to the dorms open, shocked to find that he was not as alone as he expected to be.

“...my blocking has gotten better, definitely. But it’s still too fragile to defend against his full-strength punch.”

Midoriya’s eyes focused on Todoroki, sitting on one of the couches and apparently patching himself up from what looked like a street fight. Though his general posture indicated that he was in perfect condition, Todoroki had removed his shirt, revealing a sickening number of fresh, dark bruises all along his torso and arms.

If Midoriya wasn’t concerned by that, then he certainly was concerned as to why Todoroki seemed so good at cleaning himself up, wiping the blood and icing the bruises expertly, doing it absentmindedly even as he seemed to be more preoccupied with talking to himself about what sounded like training strategies.

But what type of rigorous training would cause this? And the wounds were certainly too fresh to have happened in class. He must’ve just gotten here from wherever the fight had happened. Had he met a villain on the way back from his house? No, he seemed too calm for that. Did he get into a fight or something? That didn’t seem like something Todoroki would do-

His train of thought came to a screeching halt when Todoroki turned his head to meet Midoriya’s eyes.

“You’re muttering,” Todoroki huffed, nearly a whisper. He seemed a little surprised at Midoriya’s presence as well. “Sorry. If I had known you would be coming back so soon, I would’ve done this somewhere else.”

He moved towards his first aid kit, seemingly to pack everything away and move to a more secluded place, but Midoriya rushed forward before he could think about leaving, sitting himself on the couch beside Todoroki and reaching for his hand. He felt his heart wince when Todoroki flinched away from the contact.

Midoriya immediately felt guilty—why would he touch someone who so obviously had just been through a tremendous ordeal?—and he dropped Todoroki’s hand immediately.

“Sorry,” he moved to grab a disinfecting wipe from the kit and made a show of bringing it towards Todoroki, so that the latter could see what he was doing. He didn’t want to freak Todoroki out with any unnecessary movements when he was so clearly jumpy from his altercation.

“What are you doing?”

Midoriya glanced up from cleaning one of the cuts on Todoroki’s arm to see the bicolored eyes watching his movements carefully. Midoriya moved his eyes back down to watch what he was doing with his hands as he continued.

“I’m helping you.” He murmured as softly as he could manage. “You seem awfully beat up. Who hurt you?”

Todoroki visibly stiffened, though Midoriya tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed as he continued to clean the various cuts.

They look like wood scratches. As if he was thrown across a wooden floor repeatedly.

“No one hurt me.”

Midoriya was about to open his mouth to refute, but Todoroki gently grabbed his hand and cut off his ministrations. Carefully, he set Midoriya’s hand away and stood, grabbing his shirt.

“I’m fine. Great actually. I’m getting better.”

Midoriya frowned. He didn’t like where this conversation seemed to be going.

“Getting better at what, Todoroki?” Midoriya stood too, trying to take a step forward but being met with the former merely taking a step away. “I just want to help you, and you’re obviously hurt. What happened? Whoever did this to you, this is bad -”

“It’s nothing, Midoriya.” Todoroki said firmly. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m fine.”

It sounded over-rehearsed, as though he said that to himself in the mirror every morning in an effort to convince himself.

Still, Midoriya didn’t do anything as Todoroki gathered up the remainder of his things and took the elevator up. That simple action spoke volumes as to what he was hiding under the remainder of his clothes: Todoroki always took the stairs, never the elevator. He’d only do so if moving caused too much pain, like when Kacchan accidentally—maybe on purpose—had blown half the skin on Todoroki’s legs off a few weeks ago. Recovery Girl had been able to heal him, but he had still been in some serious pain for a couple days.

And if this was anything like that, then Midoriya was worried.

He was extremely worried.

Why can’t I do one thing right?

Shouto hadn’t self-harmed in what felt like forever. But it had probably been only a few weeks at most.

He never cut: that would be too obvious, raise too much suspicion, and it was too much of a mess to properly tidy up quickly. Endeavor would’ve been furious had he done anything too obvious, and his anger never ended well.

But bruises were easier to explain. To Endeavor, his classmates, anyone who noticed, having a few bruises was considered normal in the hero course. And if he needed to draw blood, he would scratch it out using his nails on his skin or by pulling his hair, always on the left side to ensure that no one else could see it. He figured that if it ever got bad enough that he desperately needed to cut, he’d use the box cutter in his desk drawer on the inside of his thighs. The forearms were too exposed, with his hero costume needing folded-up sleeves for his Quirk to properly work. The forearms were too much of a risk.

He hadn’t felt the need to self harm since Bakugou had singed most of his skin off. That pain, all the blood that had spilled, had been enough to carry him over for weeks. And usually, training with Endeavor satisfied the itch too. It was always painful, and more often than not it would draw some blood. The pain would last for days, and usually by then it was time for another training session. He was never without the feeling of pain, so it was rare that he felt the need to do it himself. It had already been done to him.

But being caught in such an incriminating position by Midoriya, after days of assuring himself that no one would suspect anything, no one was watching, no one cared, Midoriya had to go along and disprove every last assurance to himself. Shouto had needed to get some control back, to keep himself from spiraling.

He wouldn’t be satisfied with a bruise this time. He used his Quirk to form a little shard of ice, which he then pressed to one of the many small cuts on his other shoulder. It wouldn’t widen or deepen the cut, but it would add some painful pressure to allow a bit more blood to flow from the wound.

It took a few minutes, but after he had a couple of the cuts bleeding again, he felt in control enough to take the ice in his left hand and slowly heat it until his hand was just wet with water.

He watched the blood spread for a few minutes, reveling in the sight of what proved he was a living thing before he sighed, following the routine of cleaning himself up. He rinsed the cuts off in the sink, grabbing the first aid kit again so that he could finish disinfecting them. Once that was done, he put on a couple bandages, and all was done.

He could ice the bruises in the morning. No one ever came back to the dorms early Sunday morning, so he would have enough time to take a quick shower. The only issue was Midoriya, and how Shouto would avoid having a conversation about what he’d seen. It wouldn’t be easy to explain—i.e. lie about—the injuries without incriminating himself.

Well, incriminating Endeavor. But by extension himself. If he made it seem like his Endeavor was a bit too physically harsh with him, that would just elicit sympathy and worry for him, which he did not deserve, nor was warranted. Midoriya was too caring for his own good for Shouto to not be wary of him.

He chalked that night up to a failure, something he’d definitely have to work on in the future. He would have to remind himself that the dorms at UA were no longer a safe space, and that he needed to be more careful.

That limited him to having only one particular safe space now, his room, but he’d manage with that. Before the dorms had been an option, he hadn’t had any space he’d considered safe at all.

He drew up his covers as soon as he got into bed, hoping that he could just sleep it off. But alas, it seemed that sleep wouldn’t come easily to him tonight either.

Shouto heard a knock at his door. There was only one person it could possibly be, so he felt a little bad about ignoring it. But Shouto knew he needed the alone time, so he held it out until he heard soft footsteps retreat back down the hallway.

I’m sorry, Midoriya. You weren’t supposed to have seen that.

Midoriya was a bit worried about Todoroki.

Of course, he was usually worried about his friends, but this was different. Todoroki had been acting odd for a couple days, and now he’s going around with massive injuries that he’s just brushing off.

He’d gone to check up on him but had received no response. Midoriya guessed it could be assumed that Todoroki was sleeping—it was decently late, after all—but still, something about it didn’t sit right with him. Todoroki hadn’t been so withdrawn from the rest of them since before he’d become their friend. And he’d given no explanation for those ugly bruises and cuts. If Midoriya didn’t know any better, he might assume that Todoroki looked more sleep-deprived than usual. Midoriya knew he had sleeping issues sometimes, but never so bad as to be evident on his face.

So yes, Midoriya was worried. And for good reason. But that didn’t mean he could particularly do anything about it right now with Todoroki having gone to bed, seemingly avoiding him.

He made his way back to the common room, sitting on the couch where he’d dropped off his stuff. He decided he might as well pull out some of his work to review before going to bed. After all, they would be on this topic for a couple more days, and then there’d be a quiz. Midoriya wanted to be prepared. At the very least, it should get his mind off of his worrying for a little while.

The red flags of child abuse to look out for are: withdrawal from friends or usual activities; depression, anxiety or unusual fears, or a sudden loss of self-confidence; sleep problems and nightmares; self-harm or attempts at suicide.

Midoriya frowned at a couple of those. After being worried about Todoroki for a couple days, it was hard to not draw some correlations.

He’s been withdrawing a lot lately. And he does seem to be lacking some sleep. But I hope that last note doesn’t apply…

But why would it? Todoroki seemed to be a pretty straightforward guy. Midoriya didn’t think he’d hide something he recognized as abuse.

Physical abuse signs and symptoms: unexplained injuries, such as bruises, broken bones (fractures) or burns; injuries that don’t match the given explanation; injuries that aren’t compatible with the child's developmental ability.

Midoriya frowned again. He didn’t like the similarities with that either.

But it couldn’t be… right? Todoroki would never excuse abuse. The only reason Midoriya could give is that maybe Todoroki didn’t see it as abuse.

But still, he would’ve at least told him who gave him those injuries, right? Todoroki was always like that; he’d give Midoriya the big picture and skip the details. Midoriya would at least know what had happened, and Todoroki would leave him to piece together the situation by himself.

It just didn’t feel right. Todoroki could be dense sometimes, but he wasn’t dumb. Midoriya was confident that Todoroki would know if he was being put through abuse, and he was more than capable of doing something about it. But there was still the question of whether any of this even applied to Todoroki.

Todoroki had told Midoriya about the Quirk marriage, and he could guess that his mother wasn’t mentally healthy, given that Todoroki had mentioned that she lived in a psychiatric hospital. Midoriya knew that Todoroki resented his father for both of those facts, but even so, none of that was anything to go on in regards to possible abuse. That was just a rocky family situation, right?

Midoriya decided to put his work away. He was obviously tired if his brain was trying to draw connections between Todoroki and what they were learning in class. It would probably seem silly to Midoriya eventually, how wrong he’d been.

And yet, he spent the rest of the night zoned out on the couch, trying not to think about how wrong it all felt.

Shouto was glad he had gotten up early to take his shower. Just minutes after he’d finished, Aoyama had shown up, and had somehow roped Shouto into fixing a cheese platter with him.

“Has Midoriya been on the couch all night?” Aoyama muttered in that French accent of his. “An uncomfortable position, no?”

Shouto glanced over the kitchen counter to see Midoriya’s head on the couch, bent at an odd angle. He had probably fallen asleep doing work or something, as his bag was sitting beside the couch.

“He must have fallen asleep while working last night.” Shouto responded, returning to his task of arranging the cheese Aoyama was cutting.

“The poor thing,” Aoyama mused, humming as he slid another handful of cheese cubes to Shouto. “He must’ve been working quite hard to be able to fall asleep on those hard couches. Frankly, they’re barely soft enough for me to sit on. I require a more plush cushioning for my delicate physique.”

Shouto listened numbly as Aoyama began to wax on about his sensitive skin and easily-bruised bones, his mind more focused on the cheese at hand. Even as people started to arrive, and Aoyama moved on to handing out the cheese, Shouto wasn’t very attentive to anything. Not even when their classmates began poking at Midoriya to wake him up.

Shouto felt so out of it, in fact, that he completely missed Kirishima trying to get his attention until he was right in front of his face.

“Hey, you alright man?”

Kirishima’s question raised more than a few heads, though everyone pretended to be occupied with other things. Shouto didn’t miss Midoriya’s eyes, now trained on him intently.

“You’ve been acting kind of strange for the last few days.”

Shouto forced himself to look Kirishima in the eyes, trying not to cower when he saw genuine concern there.

No, this wasn’t right. Kirishima shouldn’t be worried about him at all. Nothing was wrong, he was just having a rough couple days. The stress was probably getting to him, due to everyone watching him—even though he could never prove it—and the fact that they’re going over a very serious and taxing topic in class. One which Shouto is trying to learn while also trying not to dwell on.

He forced himself to nod, hoping the action didn’t come off as awkward.

“I’m alright. There’s no need to worry. I’m sorry to have caused you any inconvenience.”

Kirishima didn’t seem convinced, a frown in place of his usual smile on his normally bright face, but he let Shouto walk away, maybe a bit too hastily to be casual.

I’m sorry, Kirishima. But I need to get out of here. I need to. Need to get away. Get away- away. Until I can breathe again… just until I can breathe.

Shouto forced himself to take the stairs so he wouldn’t run into any more people, even though it was agony with the still-fresh bruises. He made sure to take the steps two at a time until he reached his floor, heaving but refusing to stop. Even when Sero emerged from his room as he passed, Shouto ignored the way he had called out, rushing forward until the door shut and locked behind him.

He felt his legs give out as he slid down the door, his breathing rushing so fast and yet he felt like he couldn’t get any air. He vaguely heard a knock, but he was too far gone to really think about it.

Can’t breathe…

The second Todoroki had left the room, conversation burst throughout the entire class, each spitting some nonsense theory which all boiled down to: there’s something up with him. He’s hiding something.

Midoriya could tell they were all worried about him, so he didn’t try to stop them from discussing the topic. Frankly, he felt a little bit better now that he knew he wasn’t the only one to have noticed Todoroki’s strange behavior. Maybe if more of them expressed their concern, they’d be able to help Todoroki with whatever was obviously bothering him.

“Why the hell should I care about Icyhot’s feelings?!”

To no one’s surprise, Kacchan was glaring at Kirishima, who looked like he’d been trying to bring it up to him.

“I’m just saying, man. You guys are friends, right? You took the preliminary classes with him.”

“I WAS FORCED TO!”

“Still, you’re not even a little worried about him? He’s been acting off lately.”

“Icyhot knows how to handle himself.” Kacchan spat, crossing his arms. “He’s always been blunt about what he needs or is thinking. Whatever is going on, it’s probably just him stressing out for no reason, and that’s why he can’t explain it to the rest of u- of you. Plus, he always acts weird. That’s just how he is.”

Midoriya frowned. Kacchan did have a point; Todoroki did have anxiety just like Midoriya did. But still, this felt different in a way. A way he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Midoriya put the thought away as the door swung open, revealing Aizawa and ultimately cutting off any conversations still going on. No one wanted to get on his nerves by bringing possibly unnecessary worry to his attention.

“Is everyone here?”

Iida marched over stiffly, chopping his hands.

“Sero was the last to arrive. Everyone else besides him and Todoroki are all down here.”

Aizawa nodded. “Then someone can fill them in later. Right now, I wanted to announce that we’ll be having a couple of guest speakers tomorrow.” He held up a hand to silence them as questions began to spring up. “I’m not supposed to tell you, but I wanted to make sure you were all prepared to be on your best behavior. They’re going to be helping with the lecture tomorrow, and I don’t want anyone to do anything rude while highly-ranked pros are here.”

Midoriya perked up. “Highly-ranked pros? Who’s coming?”

Aizawa sighed, but now everyone’s interest was piqued. Even Kacchan seemed to attune to the conversation.

“Fine,” Aizawa ran a hand over his face. “Not like I wasn’t going to tell you anyway. UA has arranged for Endeavor and Hawks to talk about some child abuse cases they’ve dealt with, so you know what it might be like off of paper.”

Midoriya perked up. The current top two pros? It would certainly make for an excellent class, to learn how actual pros go about helping abused kids rather than just reading about what to look for. It would almost certainly be different when actually on the field.

Midoriya set his fists at his side. He was looking forward to it.

Shouto wasn’t sure when or how Sero got into his room.

He recalled locking the door before spiraling, but after a few minutes of having somewhat regained the ability to breathe just enough to stop the deafening sound of blood rushing in his ears, he was able to recall Sero’s voice coming from the other side of the door, telling him to breathe. Somewhere along the way, he must’ve convinced Shouto to unlock the door for him. Which was probably a good thing, seeing as he had been about to look for the nearest way to self harm in order to regain some semblance of control.

Although it was kind of humiliating, Shouto was glad Sero was here. He hadn’t touched Shouto without permission, he’d helped him gain control of his breathing, and now he was holding Shouto securely as he unceremoniously sobbed into his hoodie.

Shouto couldn’t even choke out an apology; Sero would probably have to change, and he’d only just gotten back to the dorms. Shouto had seen him arrive, and he knew that Sero had just changed into this outfit, which was nice and soft and Shouto could just get lost in it. He hoped he wasn’t ruining it.

“You’re…” Shouto tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Not going to tell anyone… right?”

He felt Sero’s soft chuckle through his chest, felt the huff of warm breath on his scalp.

“I’m not going to tell anyone anything that you don’t want me to.” Shouto nearly melted into the new feeling of a hand coming up to rub softly at his scalp. “This is your business, not mine. Just say the word, and we’ll keep this under lock and key, yeah?”

Shouto nodded into Sero’s chest, thankful that he had been the one up here. Satou was great, but he had not displayed the ability to calm people down like this. Maybe it was because Sero was so chill most of the time, in a way Shouto never could be. But Shouto got the feeling that Sero really knew what he was doing, way too good at this to not have prior experience.

“ ‘m sorry.” He dug his fingers as tightly as he could into Sero's shirt to make his point. "Sorry, 'm sorry."

Shouto felt another soft chuckle come from Sero.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Roki. Something has hurt you, even if you refuse to see it, and I am not going to blame you for that. It’s not your fault. I am here to help with whatever you need. Even if I don’t know exactly what that is.”

Despite all the times All Might had said it, Shouto thinks that this might be his favorite declaration of I am here .

“Do you feel like talking about it?” Sero’s voice came out soft. “If not, that’s totally okay.”

Shouto finally found the strength to pull away from Sero, finally taking in that they were still on the floor of his room.

“I think so.”

His voice sounded horrible, hoarse and choked. The thickness of his throat was still there.

Sero didn’t comment on it though, instead opting to help Shouto to his feet so they could sit more comfortably on his bed. There, Shouto felt safer, especially after Sero wrapped his blanket around his shoulders.

“If you feel like stopping at any time, I won’t judge.”

Shouto nodded. That was assuring to know.

He took a deep breath, trying to decide what to even say. He didn’t even really know what was wrong with him at this point.

“I just… I’ve been kind of strung up lately. It has nothing to do with you guys or anything. I’m just,” he sighed, really not knowing how to phrase it right. “I’m sorry. It’s a little overwhelming when a lot of people are worrying about me when it doesn’t feel like there’s anything wrong.”

Sero nodded. “So, if you don’t feel like anything’s wrong, then what’s got you strung up like you say?”

Shouto clenched his fists around his blanket for grounding.

“Endeavor has been… occupying my mind a lot lately. As the number one hero, he has high expectations for me. Always has.” He shrugged in an attempt to belittle the comment. “It’s nothing in particular, just… the expectations of being his son are a lot to deal with, and when people take pity on me I feel like I’m failing at being what he wants.”

It wasn’t a whole lie, but not the whole truth either. But Shouto didn’t know how to tell the whole truth. He didn’t even really know what the whole truth was right now.

“I just prefer to keep things to myself. It’s easier to deal with when I don’t have to worry about everyone else tracking my progress.”

He supposed he could leave it at that. So long as he got the point across: I don’t like being worried about or having my tendencies analyzed, regardless of the intent of others.

From how Sero was nodding, it seemed like he understood well enough.

“Hey man, I get it.” Sero offered a smile. “Sometimes all we need is some space. Privacy is important, and I don’t know how easy it would be to keep everyone from worrying about you, but I’m sure they’d understand if you didn’t want them budding into your business if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Shouto nodded. He was probably right in that the others would back off, and Shouto knew that the others wouldn’t try to pry things from him, but…

How to put it? If he admitted to them that anything was going on at all, he’d have to admit it to himself. He’d have to address that there is a problem there which he needs space and time to deal with. But it was easier to just go about thinking that there wasn’t an issue. Because if there was, then Shouto might lose control of his mind and emotions, which are kept well-checked. He doesn’t want to dig up anything from where it’s so neatly buried.

They exchanged a few more words of comfort and confirmation before Sero was on his way down, extending an offer for Shouto to come talk when he needed to.

Nothing against Sero, but Shouto felt like he’d talked enough for a lifetime. He was ready to go back to keeping it all shut in now. He was certain Sero would be keeping an eye on him now, just like the others. Shouto didn’t want to be wary of more of his classmates, but his resolve kept cracking and exposing him to more people. If anything, he just needed to get a handle on himself before it got out of control.

Midoriya listened with intent as Endeavor spoke. The number one hero was talking about his first child abuse case back when he was in his twenties. The way he spoke about it made it seem like the tragedy of what that child went through still weighed on him.

Midoriya supposed that these sorts of cases never left a person, no matter how much they grow afterwards. And Midoriya could believe that someone with kids of his own would definitely have a loathing of such situations.

Speaking of his kids, Todoroki had seemed pretty shocked when his father had walked in with Hawks in tow. Midoriya was almost confused, but when he saw the same reaction from Sero, he put it together that they’d forgotten to inform those two about the visitors coming. He inwardly grimaced, but there was nothing he could do about the forgotten promise now.

After Endeavor spoke about a few occasions, Hawks took the podium with a few stories of his own, decently shocking a lot of the class when he admitted that he’d grown up in a similar situation.

Midoriya noticed that Endeavor kept an eye on Todoroki in the back. He supposed it was normal, for a parent to want to watch their kid, and for a hero to make sure that a student is paying attention to what is being discussed. Todoroki had mentioned before that his father had very high expectations of him, so Midoriya dismissed the idea as he was certain Endeavor wanted Todoroki to be listening to the lesson.

Once the stories were done, Aizawa stepped up to encourage the class to ask questions before the two pros made their leave.

As questions began to pop up, Midoriya tried to formulate a few of his own.

As soon as the next question was finished being answered, Midoriya’s hand shot up. Aizawa looked over at him lazily.

“Midoriya? Your question?”

Midoriya lowered his hand. “I noticed that these stories were all about children under a certain age. I’m just wondering if there are any cases of teenagers suffering from abuse?”

That earned him a look from all three pros, but nonetheless Aizawa cleared his throat, apparently deciding to answer this one himself.

“Of course, there is abuse of all ages. Typically, abuse that starts in someone’s teenage years will either cause a rebellion or the teenager informing someone.”

Midoriya frowned. “But what about someone who’s been abused since they were little? Is that different?”

Aizawa narrowed his eyes at him, but continued. “Typically, a young child would have exhibited the signs early enough that it wouldn’t go on for very long. If it were to carry into teenage years, it would have to be powered by psychological manipulation from the abuser. That way, the child would either not believe it to be abuse, or would think it is justified.” Aizawa gripped the podium as he leaned slightly forward. “In any case, the manipulation and abuse would have to be pretty powerful for a child to either fear or not consider coming forward, or to be able to hide the effects so well.”

Midoriya nodded, quickly grabbing his pencil to scratch down those notes.

The sound of Aizawa clearing his throat recalled his attention once more.

“I know that I probably don’t need to say this, but if you know someone who is undergoing abuse—in any sense, not just domestic—you should contact the proper services immediately. In a lot of cases such as these, people can end up dying or retaining permanent damage, physical or psychological.”

The class all nodded in understanding, and after a few more questions the lesson finished, everyone gathering up their things and heading to lunch.

Midoriya knows.

Shouto repeated this mantra in his head until it felt like his skull was bleeding.

He knows… he knows . Yet he hadn’t outright said anything. Did that mean he didn’t care? Or was he just waiting to say something?

What was Shouto going to do? How was he supposed to stop this? What could he do at this point? Midoriya obviously knew. Why else would he be asking those targeting questions? Right at Endeavor, no less? Midoriya had gone to great lengths to let Shouto know that he knew, even going so far as to use such a dirty, backhanded method to do so. It was almost sickening.

And the whole class will know. Midoriya will tell everyone because he’s worried and Endeavor will kill him unless the inability to breathe did first and-

“Todoroki! Where are you going?”

Shouto swung back around to where Midoriya was approaching, a leisurely smile on his face.

Traitor. You… you sold me out. Now everyone knows and my days are numbered-

“I, uh,” Shouto mumbled eloquently. “Nowhere.”

Midoriya cocked his head. “You’re not coming to lunch with us?”

Shouto immediately shook his head. No, no more people. Everyone’s looking at me. At this. Right now. They see them. They see the bruises, don’t they?

Midoriya frowned, stepping closer by a hair. Shouto froze up immediately, flinching ever so slightly, causing Midoriya to falter.

“You are okay, right?” His eyes softened. No, don’t do that. “You know we’re here for you if you need-”

“I have to go.”

I'm sorry, Midoriya.

Shouto knew the abrupt exit was rude, he knew it was suspicious, but it was getting way too hard to keep his emotions in check. It was bad enough that Endeavor had shown up right after he’d admitted to Sero that he just needed to avoid being reminded of the man. It was bad enough that Sero was giving him worried looks during class. It was bad enough that Endeavor had talked about hitting a child like it was the worst sin in the world when he’d never shown that side to Shouto. And it was certainly bad enough that Shouto couldn’t ignore it anymore.

It came from Endeavor’s own mouth: the different children he saved from abuse, situations so similar to Shouto’s own, delivered by the hero’s very hands. Even Endeavor saw those actions as abuse, so how was Shouto still denying it?

“Shouto.”

He froze, head snapping to the right, where Endeavor was standing in front of the wall. No, not now. Shouto looked around for anyone else, but they were alone. Shouto and his… abuser?

The word still felt foreign to him.

“I know how you were feeling in there, Shouto.”

Getting right to the point, huh?

“And you know that the way I teach you is completely different from something like that, right?”

Shouto went rigid. Did he know that?

“I treat you this way out of love.” Endeavor said, arms crossing in a slightly menacing way. “Because I want the best for you.”

Shouto gulped, forcing himself to nod. “Y-yes sir. Of course.”

Endeavor frowned still, gaze never wavering.

“You told that boy, didn’t you?” His glare hardened. “The green one.”

Shouto’s blood turned to ice, and he shook his head so hard it hurt. “No! I didn’t, I promise. He- he figured it out by himself. I didn’t-”

“Don’t lie to my face, Shouto.” His scowl was a death threat. “After everything I’ve done for you, you still act this way? Petulant? If you can’t keep your mouth shut, maybe I shouldn’t be so gracious as to let you remain in a position where you have access to tell anyone.”

No. He didn’t want to go back. UA was safe. At least, it had been until recently.

“I will let it go this time, since I am forgiving.” Shouto nearly wilted in relief. He wanted to cry. “But if you step out of line again, it will be the end of the line for this charade. Understood?”

Shouto nodded immediately. “Understood, sir.”

Shouto waited for Endeavor to completely disappear from his sight before he broke. Tears streamed down his face as he bolted down the hallway. He ran all the way to the locker rooms where they would change for hero training later, slamming a stall door and covering his ears.

No, no, no! I can’t go back! This… What even is this anymore? Abuse? Petulance on my part? I’m overreacting, it’s not this bad. Endeavor said so himself; it’s because he loves me.

But Shouto didn’t feel loved. In fact, he wasn't sure he knew what it would feel like at all.

What was it to be loved, if not to be beaten into the ground? To be separated from your siblings? To be forced to grow up strong in too many ways? To cover your ears at night and shield your body during the day? To have scalding tea poured on-

…what was it to be loved? Was there such a thing? There didn’t seem to be; not for Shouto at least.

He didn’t know what any of this meant anymore. He just wanted it all to go away. That way he wouldn’t have to know, wouldn’t have to deal with it at all. It would just be gone. Why can’t he do that? He wants so much to do that…

Even through his hands covering his ears, he heard the door to the bathroom open, footsteps approaching his stall.

“Todoroki? Is that you?” Shouto did his absolute best to keep from sobbing at Aizawa’s voice. No, please. “You were running pretty frantically in the halls. Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

Shouto refused to respond. He wouldn’t. Every time he’s opened his mouth in the last couple of days, he’s screwed something up. Not again. He wouldn’t-

“In class, Midoriya was talking about you, wasn’t he?”

Before he knew what he was doing, Shouto had ripped open the stall door to refute, but no words would come out.

Aizawa himself seemed taken aback by the response, and even more so at the state Shouto was in. His face softened in sympathy.

No…

“I don’t think he necessarily was thinking of you but,” Aizawa shrugged, movements careful, “I think you subconsciously sparked him to ask that question, what with your recent behavior. I can see your classmates are worried about you.”

When Shouto made no movements, gave away no reaction, Aizawa stepped closer, stopping when he noticed the way Shouto froze.

“Whatever it is, you don’t have to do this alone.” Aizawa’s gentle look was way too much right now. No, no, no… “Is it Endeavor?”

No! Don’t-

“You don’t have to bury it, Todoroki.” Aizawa attempted to reach his hands out for him, ever so slowly, though to Shouto it was the most violent movement in the world at the moment. “If it’s about Endeavor, we can help-”

NO!

Not even Shouto knew what was going on anymore. In one moment, the entire bathroom was layered in thick sheets of ice, including Aizawa, and Shouto made the quickest escape yet, all but scrambling through the door and down the hallways. He wasn’t sure where he was running to yet.

Before he knew it, he was in his room, grabbing everything he could to do it: a box cutter, the prescription bottle full of his anxiety medication, his water bottle. He only collapsed once he’d taken the stairs to the roof exit, falling down at the edge.

No, I can’t. Not anymore. Please, no. I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I promise, I’m sorry! Just let this work. Please…

He scrambled to open the pill bottle with trembling hands, downing handful after handful with his water. He dropped a couple, but they weren’t necessary.

He grabbed the box cutter, completely uncaring as he gouged at the flesh of his arms. Finally, he was starting to feel good. For the first time in a long time. The slits cleared up everything, while a pleasant hazy feeling began to bloom in the back of his mind, probably from all the pills that would be taking effect soon.

He dropped the box cutter and ripped off his jacket and shoes.

I’m sorry everyone… please, let this work.

He was overcome with all the clarity he could ever have from the cuts, and at the same time the glorious haze of ecstasy coming from the pills. He stepped up onto the roof’s ledge, legs a bit wobbly but determined.

Yes. Finally, yes.

Whatever happens, he should end up dying. Whether from the gashes, the overdose, or the fall, something would inevitably kill him today. And he was content with that. He was eager.

So much so that it was honestly scary. He wanted it so bad, to forget all the anxiety he’s been choking on, all the confusion he’s been drowning in. He just wants it to end, so badly.

He let gravity take him, succumbing to the heavy pull, the weight of his body betraying him, but a strong lurching in his gut sent him falling the wrong way. His back hit the roof’s floor and his eyes shot open. What-?

And there he was. Aizawa, a wide-eyed look matching a perfectly horrified expression, gripping the capture weapon that was holding Shouto back with white fists. Hawks landed nearby. For a moment of sheer panic, Shouto thought Endeavor would come into view too, but he never did.

The two pros seemed to piece together every piece of the puzzle fairly easily: the deep lines on his wrist, the bottle lying empty beside a few scattered pills, where they had found him.

“Todoroki.” Aizawa removed his capture weapon from around Shouto and rushed over, beginning to press it hastily to the wounds on his arms to stop the blood flow. “How many pills did you take?”

Shouto blinked. At the mere mention of the pills, he was suddenly aware of the growing haze at the back of his mind.

He wanted to sleep…

“Todoroki.” Aizawa shook him by the shoulders. Hawks appeared to be on the phone with someone a few feet away.

Please, not Endeavor. Anyone else…

“You have to stay awake for me, okay?” Aizawa’s face was back in its authoritative, firm look, but his eyes betrayed his panic: he was afraid.

Afraid of what? Losing Shouto? Couldn’t be.

“I-I’m… sorry,” Shouto gasped out; he didn’t want his teacher to be worried. “S-sorry…”

“We’ll talk later, Todoroki,” his teacher huffed out hurriedly, gripping his shoulders fiercely.

God, I hope not.

“How many pills did you take?”

“T-the…” Why were words so hard to form now? It felt like he had cotton in his mouth as he tried. “Whole th-thing…”

Though it was getting harder to recall, he thought he remembered it being mostly full this morning when he’d skipped his dose.

Probably shouldn’t have done that…

Aizawa spat a vulgar curse. “Just hang in there Todoroki. We’ll get you to a hospital. Hawks, what’s the situation with the ambulance?”

“It’s on its way. I called Recovery Girl too, but she said her Quirk wouldn’t help with something like this.” Hawks said, walking over and pulling Shouto’s body into his arms. “I’ll fly him down there to meet the ambulance.”

Aizawa nodded. “I’ll take the stairs.”

Shouto felt gravity leave his body, not in the way he would’ve liked, as Hawks flew him down to the front gate.

“I’m-” He choked on his own breath, which was beginning to stutter unevenly. “ ‘m sorry…”

“Shit, kid.” Hawks huffed into Shouto’s hair. “Why didn’t you say anything? What’s going on?”

It occurred to Shouto in his last moments of lucidity that Hawks didn’t know… why didn’t he know? Doesn’t everyone know? Didn’t Midoriya tell everyone? That’s why Aizawa came to find him, right?

Maybe they don’t know…

“Please, kid, you gotta stay with me.” Hawks bounced his arms a little bit to shake Shouto awake as they landed. “If you don’t want to answer the question, fine. But you gotta talk to me. You can’t go to sleep yet.”

Shouto hummed, his head leaning against Hawks’ shoulder. It certainly felt comfortable here. And once he’d mentioned sleep, Shouto became acutely aware of how tired he was. How his eyelids drooped with exhaustion.

“Keep him awake, Hawks!” Aizawa called, apparently having finally made it to the ground floor, running towards them at the gate. “Get him talking!”

“Come on, kiddo. There’s gotta be something.” Hawks continued to anxiously bounce him in his arms as he huffed impatiently. “Do you want your father? Would that help?”

Hawks immediately faltered when Shouto convulsed, the panic in his chest swelling until he thought it would burst. He tried to push himself away from Hawks, but the strength in his body was gone.

“Woah, kiddo! You’re not going anywhere. I’ve got you.” Hawks tightened his grip on Shouto, his voice dropping to a mumble. “Why doesn’t he want us to get his dad?”

Nearby, Aizawa huffed. He must’ve just arrived. “I’ll explain my theory later. I haven’t quite gotten verbal confirmation yet.”

Shouto felt Aizawa move to stand in front of Hawks, putting a gentle hand on Shouto’s shoulder as he was still struggling weakly in Hawks’ hold.

“You’ve got to relax, Todoroki.” His voice was soft. “Once the ambulance gets here, you’ll get help. I promise. Just… hold on.”

Shouto didn’t want to hold on. He wanted to let go but he didn’t know how. His body was struggling to keep itself alive when he didn’t even want it to.

I want to sleep…

Just as the sound of sirens began to approach, Shouto was hit with an even sharper convulsion, curling into Hawks’ chest before he could think.

Dying sure was a trip… at least this part of it wouldn’t last much longer…

He vaguely thought he heard someone calling out to him, maybe more than one, but he could no longer make sense of any of the noise. He was still in someone’s arms, who was attempting to shake him. His eyes must’ve closed, he thought, as another wave of pain caused him to curl in on himself further. People were shouting now, shouting nonsense, and suddenly he was no longer warm. His body was now stretched out on something cold.

No, no… He was too flat. And something was keeping his wrists and ankles down so he couldn’t convulse into a ball. It felt a million times more painful like this, but he felt someone’s warm hand on his shoulder.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sorry, sorry-

“...ay with us, To… sten to my vo…”

But Shouto was lost by then.

Chapter Text

Midoriya was starting to feel really uneasy, worry spiking in his chest. Upon arrival at the locker room to change, they found it covered in ice. Midoriya thought that maybe someone had scared Todoroki, but he was nowhere to be found. And what’s worse, Present Mic was stepping in for Aizawa with no explanation given. And had those been sirens outside the school before class started? Midoriya could’ve sworn he heard them on his way from the lunch room, but he didn’t know for sure.

Midoriya didn’t seem to be the only one distracted. The unease was evident throughout most of the class; even Kacchan seemed to be a bit more on edge than usual.

Midoriya was only more confused when Hawks came in to exchange some quiet words with Mic. As far as he knew, Endeavor and Hawks were supposed to be gone by now, and Midoriya hadn’t seen Endeavor around since lunch, so why was Hawks still here?

Mic nodded solemnly at whatever Hawks had told him. They exchanged a few more words, and then Mic left the room.

Midoriya felt it necessary to see what was going on.

“Uh, Hawks, sir?” He tried not to shy away from the pro’s attention. “Where did Mic go?”

He tried to ignore the fact that the sounds of training had stopped behind him entirely. Hawks was looking over Midoriya’s head, seemingly aware of that fact as well, but apparently opting to let it go.

“He has some news to deliver to your other teachers.” Hawks said, crossing his arms. “He asked me to oversee the rest of your training period to make sure nothing happens while he is gone.”

Kaminari found his way over, taking a stand beside Midoriya.

“Where is Mr. Aizawa?” He asked, frowning. A couple more students were now wandering over, no longer trying to keep up the charade of training. “Does this have something to do with him?”

Iida came up on Midoriya’s other side, for once not chopping his hands enthusiastically. “Does this have something to do with Todoroki? The boy’s bathroom was covered in ice, and he’s nowhere to be found. And now Aizawa and Mic are gone.”

Momo’s voice came up from behind Midoriya, sounding solemn. “This is a lot to take in, but we’re worried. Is he okay? Was there a villain attack? Is that why you haven’t left yet?”

“Is that Icyhot’s blood on your shirt?”

Midoriya didn’t know what shocked him more. That Kacchan’s voice was quiet , or that he didn’t sound angry but more… jaded? Midoriya thought that was the right word to describe the protective demeanor of his words.

Midoriya’s eyes trained on Hawks’ shirt and, sure enough, there was blood. Not too much, but definitely something that hadn’t been there that morning. Midoriya felt his stomach clenching uncomfortably at the thought of that blood belonging to Todoroki.

Seriously, what happened?

“Did his old man pull something or what?”

For once, nobody told Kacchan to stop being rude. If anything, his questions encouraged his classmates to ask their own, all bombarding Hawks with their festering worries.

Hawks took the onslaught of panic with patience, waiting until the last of them had lost the energy they were using in order to continue their assault.

“Look, I can’t tell you everything.” He held up his hands placatingly as he began to be bombarded with more questions. “All I can say is that there was a slight emergency. It’s being taken care of, but the rest of it is confidential. You’ll know when the school faculty tells you.”

Midoriya frowned at that. Emergency? What kind of emergency? Todoroki slipped in the bathroom kind of emergency or Todoroki got jumped by a villain who broke into the school kind of emergency? Either way, Midoriya didn’t like how secretive the whole thing was. If it had been a villain, they would’ve said something, evacuated the school perhaps. And if it had been something as simple as him slipping, they all would’ve been told to be careful in there from now on; they wouldn’t be kept in the dark about it. Something about this wasn’t adding up; they were trying to hide something.

An uneasy feeling came over Midoriya as he could feel several pieces clicking into place at once—he’d always been good at quick thinking—but he still didn’t have the full picture.

“Can you at least tell us if Todoroki’s okay?”

Midoriya wanted to know, of course, and this might also give him some clue of what happened, regardless of the answer.

Hawks sighed. “I can’t say for sure. But hopefully he’s getting the help he needs right now.”

It clicked: the sirens. He knew there’d been sirens on his way out of the lunch room. Todoroki, for some reason or another, had been taken to the hospital, probably by an ambulance. And again, if they wouldn’t say anything about it, it would have to be serious, but not a public threat. But the only thing Midoriya could think of that would warrant privacy, an ambulance, and a serious tone would be…

But no. Midoriya absolutely refused to think that Todoroki would do such a thing. He wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. Why would…

But again, Midoriya was always good at connecting the pieces at the right time. The last few days, the behavior towards his father, the withdrawal, anxiety, aversion to proximity and touch; it all seemed to make such twisted sense.

Todoroki’s behavior had started the day their lesson on child abuse had begun. Ever since then, he’d been on edge, wary of being around or talking to others more than he had to. He’d put it together before how it resembled a lot of the red flags they’d been learning about in class. Midoriya also knew that Todoroki resented his father, and now that everything was lining up…

Hawks seemed to be able to tell the exact moment Midoriya put everything together, opening his mouth to say something appeasing just as Midoriya clamped his hand over his mouth—to keep from crying or vomiting, he wasn’t sure.

Todoroki had… tried to-

“Hey, let’s all calm down.”

Midoriya refocused his attention on Hawks to ground himself. Several of his classmates were looking at Midoriya now—they could probably tell he had formed some sort of answer and were wanting to be let in on it—but Hawks quickly regathered the attention of the class.

“Let’s not speculate about what we don’t know.” Hawks made to look at each one of them, opting to ignore Kacchan’s even if you know in favor of resuming his speech. “We should grant everyone their privacy, and it will all come to light in due time. Until then, I’d say this class is done for the day.”

Midoriya frowned, though he wasn’t really in it mentally anymore. “But we still have half an hour…?”

Hawks cast him a knowing look. “You all look tired, so I think you’ve done enough. You shouldn’t overwork yourselves. Just go home and get some rest.”

Although no one seemed to like it, everyone agreed, grumbling as they made their way to change.

Although, judging by the looks Midoriya was receiving, they weren’t going to let him stay quiet for long.

He just hoped—prayed—that he was wrong.

Aizawa hadn’t been able to stop crying since he’d gotten off the phone with Hizashi. In fact, he didn’t think he’d ever cried this much in his entire hero career. Not since Oboro had passed. He thought that after that he’d be done with crying.

He didn’t stop crying when All Might and Nezu showed up, but by the time a nurse approached them he was all out of tears. He still felt like his insides were wrenching themselves apart whenever he thought about it.

That was the worst thing he had ever seen. More than any case he’s ever worked, any villain he’s ever fought, any injury he’s ever sustained.

One of his kids— his kid —had tried to commit suicide—and had possibly succeeded—because he didn’t know how to sort through whatever has been going on in his life—Aizawa still didn’t fully know what it was about, but his best guess was horrifying, and probably correct. One of his kids had been hurting for who even knows how long, and Aizawa had failed to see it until it was almost too late.

There was a chance it was too late…

Aizawa could barely lift his head from his fist to look up at the nurse. She gave him a gentle smile, but it did nothing to help at this point.

Nezu ended up speaking first.

“How is he?”

Aizawa was glad he’d had the sense to have Hawks inform Nezu; he certainly needed someone with more composure to handle the situation right now.

“The doctors have gotten him stable.” Well, that was good at least. “There’s no telling if he’ll get worse or better right now. They’re stitching up the open wounds, and if he doesn’t throw anything up soon then we’ll probably be sending him into surgery.”

She turned to Aizawa. Ah, great. “You said he told you he took the whole bottle?”

Aizawa nodded, exhaustion evident in the movement. “I checked the pill bottle on my way to the gate. The prescription was just recently refilled, and the whole thing was empty. But I’m assuming that downing even half that bottle would be lethal if it stays in his system.”

The nurse hummed, attention moving back to Nezu. That's a relief. “Shall we inform his parents?”

Aizawa’s head immediately shot up, fully prepared to protest, but Nezu held up a small, placating hand.

“There’s no need. His father signed a form that gives UA partial guardianship over him. Since this happened on our campus, we can take care of it for now. We’ll let his parents know ourselves once he’s ready for it.”

Aizawa felt himself wilt in relief. All Might fixed him with a strange look, but he couldn’t care less right now.

Because the one thing he knew: Todoroki had never freaked out the way Aizawa saw him absolutely convulse at the mere mention of his father. Not counting when he’d booked it from the bathroom earlier upon being confronted with that name. Whatever Todoroki was going through—Aizawa had a pretty good idea—was related to Endeavor.

And Endeavor was going to suffer for it, if Aizawa had anything to say about it. He’d give himself a say if he had to. Anything to protect his kid.

He let himself slouch back in the chair, praying to anyone he could think of that his kid would turn out okay.

“You’re late.”

Dabi was never impressed with Hawks. Now that the hero was becoming more assimilated into the league of villains, he seemed to get more lax with their meet-ups, as if they were no big deal anymore. But whenever Dabi tried to complain to Tomura, he usually just got cussed at and thrown out of whatever room the wrinkly shit had holed himself up in.

But this time, there was no witty quip to his snide remark. Matter of fact, Hawks looked more exhausted than Tomura on a usual day, which is saying something.

“Woah. What happened to you?” Toga’s cheery voice filled the room as she kicked her legs under the table she sat on. “You look worse than Tomura-kun.”

Dabi snorted. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“Hey!” Tomura’s scratchy voice carried over from the couch across the room where he was fiddling with a nintendo something-or-other. “I can hear you!”

“We know!”

“Go die!”

“Not without you!”

“Go to hell!”

“See you there!”

Tomura threw one of the couch cushions at Dabi, who merely flipped him off in return as the pillow thudded innocently a few feet away.

“Wow, you really can’t aim.” Dabi mused as he refocused his attention on Hawks, who was now sitting unceremoniously on one of the nice couches, courtesy of the lubrication army or whatever they called themselves now—liberation? Ah, screw it. Not important. If all went to plan, Dabi would be burning with Endeavor before it really mattered anyway, so there was no use in learning the new alias.

“Believe me, I would’ve been here sooner, but we had an issue at UA.”

Dabi raised an eyebrow. “What situation? What could go so wrong that the school would have to call you of all people?”

He expected a glare, but Hawks merely sighed, running a hand over his face. “I was speaking to a class there with Endeavor today.”

Dabi scowled at the mention of the flaming trash heap, but Hawks didn’t even stop to admire his work.

“Anyways, I had to help get one of the students to the hospital quickly, and ended up standing in for Aizawa to watch the rest of his class.”

Toga gasped, leaning so far forward that Dabi was honestly waiting for the small end table to tilt and cause a massive spill. “Was it Izuku-kun?!”

Hawks shook his head. “Endeavor’s kid.”

Dabi’s body went rigid against his better judgment. He was never supposed to care about the kid, but he couldn’t help it. What had happened to Shouto?

Just as soon as Dabi had thought it, Toga had asked it, which earned them a nonplussed look from Hawks.

“What?” She whined, kicking her feet faster. “It’s not like we’re going to let the secret out! Who would we tell that would listen to us?”

Hawks seemed to debate for a moment, before his shoulders slumped. Maybe it was a heavy enough topic that he needed to get it off his chest. Though that thought didn’t sit well with Dabi one bit.

“We were discussing child abuse to the class today.” And oh , Dabi felt like he knew where this was going now. “Shouto seemed to be disturbed by this—we haven’t gotten the full story yet—but something set him off and he… tried to jump.”

Dabi’s blood ran cold, and several other league members pretending they weren’t paying attention stilled as they turned towards him. Even Tomura seemed shocked—even displeased—at this, looking up from his game.

“Jump? As in kill himself?” Tomura asked, scratching at his neck again. “Are you sure that’s what it was?”

Please don’t answer that , Dabi felt himself urging. Please, I don’t want that clarification. There’s no way Shouto…

“Not just jump.” Hawks slouched further into the couch, closing his eyes. “Eraser and I found him with freshly-slit wrists too. Apparently, before we’d gotten there, he’d downed an entire bottle of pills as well. Kid was trying everything. We got him in the ambulance, but…” Hawks’ sigh was ignorant agony. “I haven’t heard anything since.”

Finally, Dabi thought he knew what cold felt like again. Ever since his entire body had burned that night, the coolest temperature he’d been able to feel was a dull heat underneath his skin, as if it were trapped there. But now his very blood was ice, his bones feeling as dense and cold as stone. He suddenly very much wished he could sit down.

Tomura spared him a glance—he was the only member of the league whom Dabi had trusted to confide in about his past—but he knew to say nothing as he stood.

“This is Endeavor’s fault, correct?”

Hawks sighed, running a hand over his face. “It hasn’t exactly been confirmed, but… yeah. It looks to be that way.”

Tomura nodded, humming as he moved to stand in the center of the room.

“I think the current number one hero has just made the top of our hit list.”

Dabi couldn’t agree more with that statement. He wanted to melt the man’s face off and make the world watch as he spouted every horrible thing he’d ever done to his children—his whole family, really.

But at the same time, Dabi didn’t feel like he could move at all. Shouto—his sweet, innocent Shouto, who had still loved his big brother Touya even after he’d expressed hatred for his younger brother; who still loved Mom even after she’d poured boiling water on his face; who still loved their other siblings even though he was never allowed near them; who wanted to be a hero so bad so that he could save others from people like their father; his Shouto—had tried, and had maybe even succeeded, to kill himself.

And Dabi could feel nothing. At the same time as he felt way too much of everything. It was impossible to explain, and too hard for Dabi to care to make sense of at the moment.

His Shouto… small, soft little Shouto, forced to become jaded and cold by their father. Forced to continue undergoing the intensive training— abuse —alone once Mom and Touya had left for good, still being forced to stay away from his remaining siblings because his father wouldn’t let them tarnish his masterpiece.

His Shouto… had finally broken. All of the fracture lines he’d been made of had now been fully pushed through and scattered. And Shouto had shattered thinking he was all alone, that his only option was to eliminate all other options for the future. He truly thought of death as something worthy enough to even graze a fingernail over Touya’s once precious little Shouto.

Dabi would protect what Touya had loved, though he hadn’t been able to see that he did love him until after he had died. Dabi would wrangle Endeavor and make the man’s ashes into fertilizer for the garden he would plant for Mom and Shouto, to mourn what father had done to them. And for Fuyumi and Natsuo, to mourn what father had never done for them.

Hawks seemed to want to protest—Dabi wanted to punch him for that—but he merely dropped his head on the back of the couch, not uttering a word. Dabi supposed that there could be things he appreciated about Hawks—like knowing when to finally shut his mouth, for example.

The league of villains didn’t care about hero students or helping people. What they did care about was a child being put through some form of abuse and feeling like no one will come to save them. The league knew what it was like—to have that happen to them, to feel like that—and they were not ones to let things like this slide.

Shouto was not going to become the next Dabi, not the next Toga, and pray to god not the next Tomura, or anyone else. If Dabi had anything to say about it, Shouto would be the first Shouto before he became the next anybody else.

He was going to take his little Shouto back by making Endeavor suffer for every last one of his sins.

Midoriya kind of wished he had kept his mouth shut once they had all made it back to the dorms. He’d been cornered and begged to share what his guess was, and even after trying to assure them that it was just a hunch that might even be a bit far-fetched, no one would drop it. They all believed in Midoriya’s assumption, even more so than he himself did at this point.

No one could be consoled anymore. Even after Vlad King had come to check on them in the place of Aizawa, and he had tried to lighten the mood as he always did, he was not able to breach the wall of devastation that now blanketed 1A.

So far, Midoriya had seen Aoyama give up halfway through cutting some cheese and end up walking away; he had seen Mina lacking any enthusiasm as she flipped mindlessly through TV channels; and not a single soul—not even Kaminari himself—laughed or poked fun when Kaminari tripped over an electrical cord.

He really, really wished he’d kept his theory to himself. But he ultimately knew that was asking too much. The rest of his classmates deserved to know how he’d put the evidence together, and maybe to their relief he’d be proven wrong and they’d all shove him around for scaring them like that.

How he prayed for that.

Midoriya and his classmates pretended to not hear Momo’s sniffling during whatever movie they had ended up watching. They pretended they didn’t notice the way Kacchan didn’t yell at the TV once, either for the movie selection or the stupidity of the characters. They pretended to think nothing of how Sero had to excuse himself to go upstairs halfway through the movie—they pretended not to see the way his expression was crumbling, obviously close to crying.

They pretended that they weren’t bothered by the empty seat at the end of the couch beside Midoriya, usually occupied by Todoroki, who would be curled up into a ball, probably asleep by now as he never used to have movie nights. They pretended the atmosphere didn’t feel empty with the lack of deadpanned and straightforward comments throughout the film asking why, what, how?

They pretended it wasn’t weird that Todoroki was gone. They pretended that it was nothing to be concerned about at all. He was just… in his room or something.

As the movie went off, the atmosphere turned more fragile, the air like glass as everyone was too afraid to be the first to speak.

“Well,” came Mina’s wobbly voice. She tried to fix the group with a smile as she clenched the remote in a death-grip. “Did you guys… like the movie?”

Her voice broke, and that was it for Midoriya. Fresh tears and loud sobs were impossible to stop. And as soon as he lost it, Uraraka and Momo lost it too. He thought maybe Hagakure was crying, but it was hard to tell. Aoyama might’ve actually been the one crying the hardest at the moment, mascara running.

The ones who were keeping themselves together long enough to make it to their rooms straightened up the area as well as they could. Bowls set in the sink, blankets folded haphazardly, the TV turned off. Midoriya and the others started to regain some composure as the others started to head up to their room.

Once on his floor, he noticed that Aoyama was standing outside Tokoyami’s door. He gave Midoriya a weak smile.

“Goodnight,” he attempted a sad wave before putting the hand in front of his mouth, probably to stop another sob.

Midoriya waved him goodnight as Tokoyami’s door opened and Aoyama was let in without question. And Midoriya wouldn’t question it either; Aoyama and Tokoyami often stayed with each other when things were rough.

Midoriya sank right onto his bed, having it occur to him that he had not changed into his pajamas. Only now, he didn’t have the energy to get back up. At least he wasn’t in his school uniform anymore.

It took him too long to fall asleep.

The sweet release of death shouldn’t sound like an alarm clock beeping in a steady, quiet rhythm.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Shouto was nowhere near lucid, but he knew enough to tell that he was still very much alive, if the painful convulsing and fuzzy head were anything to go by.

He wanted to cry.

Bebeep. Bebeep. Bebeep.

Why couldn’t he just succeed at one simple thing? Seriously? How hard is it to die? He had laid out three different ways to do it and still failed?

Beebeebeebeebeebeep.

Why? Why, why, WHY-

Bebebebebebebe-

“-omething’s wron… heart monitor… hook him up to-”

“What’s going on?!”

Shouto thought that he might have recognized that voice if he were a bit more lucid. Who was it…?

“...serhead, please stay back… need to stabilize hi…”

No… please… just let me go…

BEBEBEBEBEBE-

I don’t want to be here… please. I want to go…

“Someone! Get him hooked up! We need to go into immediate surgery!”

Just let me die… please.

Yelling. A lot of yelling, all of it incoherent as it fell on deaf ears. Shouto thought he might actually finally be slipping away.

Yes, please…

Please.

Hawks gripped the armrests of his uncomfortable plastic hospital chair, already missing the plush cushions of the league’s couches.

He’d never heard Aizawa sound so frantic before when he picked up the phone. The league members were enjoying pitching ideas for how they should eliminate Endeavor as soon and as gruesomely as possible when he’d gotten the call. He would’ve thought Aizawa would be asleep by now, as it was well past midnight. When he answered, the league went silent as even they could hear how panicked the pro sounded over the line.

Todoroki Shouto had almost died just after two in the morning. Up until then, he had been in and out, not lucid enough to be considered awake, but no longer exclusively unconscious. He had dry heaved a few times in those sparse minutes, but ultimately nothing had happened. They’d called for an immediate surgery when he’d suddenly woken up, breathing so little and yet heaving too harshly as his body tried to forcibly eject all the downed pills to no avail. Apparently, the violent spasming was enough to freak out even Aizawa.

Hawks had shown up right in the middle of it all. Nezu had taken him to where they were sitting, and they’d stumbled into All Might having to restrain Aizawa from trying to re-enter the room. Hawks had been able to see through the small window how horribly things were going in the room. The orders barked harshly to everyone in there could be heard all throughout the hallway.

They were losing him.

The surgery had quieted down after a while, going more smoothly now that Todoroki seemed to be stabilized once again. Though for how long, they didn’t know for sure.

Hawks was sending updates to the league every couple of minutes; they had threatened to come there and find out for themselves what was happening if he didn’t otherwise. The last thing Hawks needed was to have the League of Villains show up in front of Todoroki’s surgery room, give Aizawa any more anxiety, and have to explain how the league knew and why they were there.

At least Aizawa was checking for updates every couple of minutes so that Hawks didn’t have to. He just texted the league whatever Aizawa mumbled each time he sat back down.

Hawks had snuck a glance at Aizawa’s phone to see what he was up to, noticing a text he’d sent to Present Mic.

<< Todoroki’s not doing so well. I may need you to take over my class tomorrow.

Hawks figured as much. Aizawa couldn’t have gotten a wink of sleep, not even while Hawks had been gone. He’d ridden in the ambulance and stayed in the hospital the whole time with Todoroki while Hawks had made a quick check-in with the league. He hadn’t been planning on going after all that had happened, but once he’d realized that the alternative would be sitting in the hospital while Todoroki possibly died in the next room was too much to handle. Hawks had chosen to take a quick breather with a couple of genocidal psychopaths.

To be honest, Hawks didn’t know why he’d come back. He had rushed over, telling himself it was just to keep the league from coming instead, but really he just wanted to know the kid was alright. He worked with his father, and he needed to know that something Endeavor had done hadn’t killed his son. He had to know that Todoroki would survive. He had to be there to know.

Nezu had made tea, to varying degrees of thankfulness. All Might had finished his before it had cooled down. He’d always been one to need to do something with his hands and have his stomach settled during upsetting times. Aizawa had barely touched his, and it was no longer steaming. Hawks had only been sipping on it mindlessly in order to have a simple action to perform as they waited. It was cold by now, but that didn’t stop him from continuing to sip at it.

He shot another text to Shigaraki.

<< Eraser doesn’t think the kid’s doing so hot. No word from the doctors.

He didn’t get a text back, but he saw that it had been read almost immediately.

Hawks internally rolled his eyes. The league wouldn’t admit that they were worried, but it was evident to anyone who observed their behavior. They didn’t want Todoroki to die as much as Hawks and the others didn’t. They weren’t absolute monsters, after all. They’d told him as much after he’d started getting to know them a bit more; they all came from varying levels of abuse. Even if Hawks didn’t know all of their backstories, he knew they sympathized with a kid who had gone through something similar to what they had.

And so Hawks waited. He’d been sitting in that chair for hours, and he’d probably sit there for a couple more. But he was alright with that, so long as the kid made it. If Todoroki made it through the hours, Hawks could too.

When Mic took to the podium, heaving a heavy sigh, it felt like all of Midoriya’s worries had been proven correct.

Aizawa would never miss a day of class, even if he had only just been in the hospital a few hours prior to the start of class.

Todoroki wasn’t there. Midoriya knew that at some point after the class had gotten back to the dorms the previous day, everyone had gone up to see if Todoroki was in his room at least once.

He never was, no matter who had gone or when. The people who were a little more adventurous went so far as to open the door to look inside the room only to get the same result.

Todoroki was not in the dorms. He had not been in Recovery Girl’s office when Midoriya checked after class. He had not been visiting with any teachers.

Midoriya knew very well that Recovery Girl could heal almost any injury. But something such as, say, swallowing a bunch of pills? Losing too much blood and having no remaining stamina? She couldn’t operate on things like that, which only furthered Midoriya’s assumption as to what had happened to Todoroki. Not only that, but Midoriya and a couple others had seen All Might and Nezu leave the campus after school hours had officially ended. Aizawa had not returned, but Mic had been seemingly communicating with him over text.

Now, Midoriya pretty much knew for certain what had happened to Todoroki, why Aizawa wasn’t in class, and what exactly was going on.

Endeavor .

Midoriya tried not to let his expression sour at the fleeting thought of that name as Mic began going over the day’s lesson plan, only to be interrupted when Kirishima raised a hand.

Mic looked like he wanted to pretend he hadn’t seen it, but who couldn’t see Kirishima’s stock-still arm raised in urgency?

“Kirishima? You have a question?”

Mic had never sounded so tired before.

“Um,” Kirishima bit his lip, hand falling to fiddle in his lap. “About Todoroki…”

Mic held up a slow hand. Another odd sign—Mic almost never displayed unenthusiastic movements.

“I know you’re all wondering about that,” Mic sighed, looking around to see now-attentive students. “And believe me, you all will probably be the first to know. But unfortunately it’s confidential right now.” Mic shrugged, shaking his head at the mumbles of protest throughout the room. “I can’t say anything. I reckon when Shouta gets back, he’ll tell you.”

Kirishima didn’t look satisfied with that answer—none of them did—but no more questions were raised about Todoroki or Aizawa’s absence. Mic continued with the lessons as normal.

Midoriya was passed the test for their lessons on child abuse. He blinked again, mentally noting all the similarities on the test to Todoroki against his will. He really didn’t want to think about this, and after he’d told the others yesterday, it seemed that they didn’t like the test much either. Not even Momo, who was usually so confident, borderline excited when it came to taking tests.

It seemed that things were almost normal—save for the empty seat, absent teacher, and vague tension throughout the room—when Kacchan suddenly slammed a hand on his paper and stood up in rage. Midoriya couldn’t see his face, but he could tell by his tone that he was livid.

“ARE WE SERIOUSLY GOING TO IGNORE THIS?” He screamed, grabbing the offending sheet of paper off his desk and waving it in the air, glare directed at Mic. “We all know what’s really up with Icyhot. We all know what happened, and why.” He fixed his glare over their classmates next. “Are we seriously going to ignore that we all know how similar Half n’ Half is to this stupid test?!”

Midoriya bit his tongue to keep from crying again. He needed to hold it together, and Kacchan wasn’t helping in that regard. In fact, Midoriya was pretty sure he saw several of their classmates turn their heads or hide their faces in their hands.

“K-Kacchan, please.”

Midoriya’s eyes found their way back to Mic, who looked stunned. Maybe he hadn’t expected the class to put it together so quickly, but then again he didn’t know this class as well as Aizawa did. 

“You… let me get this straight.” Mic stood up to his full height, still staring at Kacchan. “You know about this? How?”

“We all know about it.” Kacchan scoffed. “Damn nerd figured it out yesterday.”

Mic’s eyes wandered to Midoriya, who tried not to sink in his chair. He blinked harshly several times to keep the tears at bay.

Mic’s eyes softened, glancing around the class.

“What do you all think happened yesterday?”

Kacchan all but snarled. “We know Icyhot tried to…” Not even he wanted to say it. “...die. And we know it’s Endeavor’s fault.”

“We don’t know that for sure.” Mic sighed, but Kacchan was having none of it, storming up with his test in hand and shoving it at the teacher.

“Take one look at this and tell me you don’t immediately know what’s going on!” Kacchan stormed back to his desk and angrily sat down as Mic clutched the paper, admittedly not looking at it. “We all know.”

Mic didn’t say anything for a long time, and when he finally did it was devoid of anything that would give away what he was thinking.

“Everyone turn in your tests, please.” He set Kacchan’s paper down on the podium. “You will be having your hero training with Ectoplasm today.”

So no All Might. That was to be expected, Midoriya supposed. He had seen him leave, and he hadn’t seen him around the campus since.

Still, as they left the room, Midoriya noticed Mic tapping away at his phone.

“Thanks for telling me. I’ll call you back later.”

Aizawa sighed as he hung up the phone, turning towards the others.

“Hizashi says that my class has figured out what’s going on.” He ran a hand over his face. “They’re all impulsive and currently anxious. I don’t know what they’ll do, but I think someone should tell them formally.”

Nezu nodded in understanding. “I’ll arrange for that to happen. I should return to UA before anything should go wrong. In the meantime, you three should think about getting some rest.” He glanced at each of the pros slumped around him. “As far as I know, none of you have gotten a wink of sleep since you’ve been here.”

“I’m not going to leave,” Aizawa grumbled, shaking his head. “Not until I know the kid’s alright.”

Hawks and All Might were quick to agree with him, and Nezu just sighed as if he’d expected that response.

“Very well,” he conceded, folding his hands behind his back. “But I doubt you’ll be able to provide any comfort or counsel to the boy if you’re too bone-tired to keep your own heads up.”

He said it in that tone that made Aizawa know he was right, but it was so obnoxious that it frustrated him even more. Because it really should be obvious that they wouldn’t be able to do anything once Todoroki had actually woken up.

The three of them watched Nezu walk away before looking at each other.

“I suppose he’s right.” All Might shrugged at last. “Maybe we could switch off trying to sleep in these chairs until we get a report?”

Hawks and Aizawa shared a look before nodding. That seemed decent enough, since it was obvious none of them were planning on leaving, but they’d be too tired to help otherwise.

Aizawa took the first shift of waiting while the other two got to sleep in their chairs. He figured he would need a little bit of time before he could fall asleep anyway, so he might as well extend them some courtesy. After all, those two didn’t have to be here. This was Aizawa’s kid, who’d done this on his watch.

Hawks and All Might were concerned about the kid. Aizawa was too, of course, but he also felt guilty for not having seen this coming when it had started.

How long had his kid been hurting? To what degree? Or for the life of him, if Aizawa didn’t get any confirmation about what Endeavor had potentially put his student through, he was going to string that man up and force it out of him himself.

Class 1A was more than distressed when Principal Nezu came in Wednesday morning to talk to them. He informed them that indeed, Todoroki had tried to commit suicide after Monday’s lecture. He wouldn’t tell them anything else, saying that they were still investigating, ignoring comments thrown from people like Kacchan that basically relayed what they all knew about why he had done it.

But at least Nezu had taken pity on them and assured them that when he had last been at the hospital, Todoroki had been resting after his surgery. From what Nezu told them, it seemed like he would pull through. So Midoriya and the rest of the class at least had some relief from the situation now.

The class’s lecture before lunch had been canceled in favor of Nezu having arranged an assembly for the entire school to talk about mental health and such, encouraging people to come forward with either their own issues or worries about other students. He didn’t expressly call out Class 1A, but they knew explicitly why the assembly had been called.

Once the students had been released to go to lunch, Midoriya heard a bunch of murmurs from other students about the lecture. Several weren’t actually very far off, claiming that maybe something had happened on or around UA’s campus that caused the school to address the issue. Others were making crude jokes about the seminar, poking fun at what had been said.

Kirishima and Sero had to physically restrain Kacchan from those students. No one wanted to give it away that someone in 1A was dealing with that; they all wanted to respect Todoroki’s privacy. As such, it was necessary to keep Kacchan from launching or screaming at anyone else, and that involved Sero taping his mouth shut, as well as his arms and legs to his seat. People gave them weird looks, but it was normal for Kacchan to have certain outbursts, so ultimately nothing came of that, at least.

If anyone from other years or classes noticed Todoroki’s absence, no one mentioned anything. Maybe some had, but decided to keep Todoroki’s privacy in mind as well. If that was the case, then Midoriya was thankful.

Midoriya tried to keep his head up. After all, the reality of what Todoroki had done might have been upsetting, but he was going to get better now, right? The hospital staff was helping him, and soon he’d be getting the kind of help he really needs.

Or so Midoriya hoped.

If there was one student Aizawa had not been expecting to see showing up at the hospital, it was Amajiki Tamaki.

Aizawa had been ready for any of Class 1A to barge in and demand to see Todoroki, to know all the details of what had happened.

Aizawa was on his second surveillance shift now, just having switched with Hawks. He was feeling better after resting for a bit, but still didn’t feel all that great.

He gave Tamaki a confused look when the student sat down in the open chair beside him, setting a bag on the floor in between them.

“Tamaki,” he murmured in greeting, trying to be considerate of the others sleeping on his other side. “What are you doing here?”

“We had a suicide prevention assembly at school today,” the other mumbled quietly, shrugging his shoulders. “I noticed your absence, and one of your students was gone too. And Nezu visited your classroom this morning. All of your students look pretty down, even Kirishima. So I put it together that...”

He glanced at the door down the hall, and Aizawa had to mentally slap himself. Tamaki may not be the kind to brag openly about himself, but back when Aizawa was his teacher he had seen for himself how smart the kid was. He should’ve seen this coming from at least one student.

“How did you know where to go?” He asked hoarsely.

Tamaki had probably gone to Nezu to get the information about the hospital and room number. What Aizawa couldn’t wrap his head around was why Nezu would give Tamaki the information.

His former student sighed, reaching into the bag he’d brought and handing Aizawa a water bottle. Although Aizawa still wanted the full story, he accepted it in favor of clearing his throat.

“Nezu told me,” Tamaki muttered once Aizawa had started to drink. “I didn’t want to intrude on you, but I told him that I wanted to bring you and the other pros that might be here some things to help.”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow as he put the cap back on his bottle. “To help Todoroki?”

Tamaki hunched his shoulders a little, an indication that there was more to this than he let on.

“There are some things that might help him,” he nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “But waiting outside the hospital room can be really hard on people, so I thought I’d bring you some things to help with that too.”

Tamaki started tapping his fingers and pulling at his sleeves, tipping Aizawa off that Tamaki might still not be sharing the whole truth.

“And you know this how?” He didn’t miss the way Tamaki’s movements stuttered. “Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate this, and I’m sure Hawks and All Might will too. I’m just concerned that there’s something you’re not telling me, and you’re the type to bottle things up and never share. So is there something you want to tell me, but you’re not sure how?”

Tamaki opened his mouth, closed it again, before setting his jaw and nodding.

“Back in my last year of middle school, I… I tried to jump.”

Well, that certainly stunned Aizawa. He would’ve thought he knew everything about his old students, that they couldn’t surprise him anymore. But clearly, he’d been wrong.

“I had cut myself up a lot too,” he continued, fiddling with his sleeves. “I was hoping that something would do it, but… well, Mirio found me and convinced me not to jump. He waited at the hospital for days until I was conscious again after a couple blood transfusions.”

Tamaki began folding and unfolding his hands repeatedly, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do under his old teacher’s gaze. But Aizawa didn’t really know how to make it any easier.

Why did so many kids hide things like this? Aizawa didn’t think he’d ever truly understand again what being a kid is like. Still, the fact that these were kids going through things like this… Aizawa kind of wanted to be sick at the thought.

“I was kind of upset that Mirio had stopped me,” he mumbled, biting at his lip. “But when I saw how frazzled he looked after being allowed in the room, I felt really bad.” He shrugged, looking a little guilty. “He had done so much to take care of me and help me, but there was no one to help him out there. All he could do was sit in the hallway and pray I’d be okay because no one would tell him anything and I was too ashamed to see him for a while. It was hard on both of us.”

Aizawa tilted his head. “Do you ever regret it?”

Tamaki blinked, still avoiding looking at Aizawa, though he supposed he couldn’t blame him for that.

“I’m not sure that I can—or want to—regret wanting to die.” He shrugged, tugging at his sleeves again. “It’s not something I’ll ever blame myself for. And I don’t really think I regret trying to either.”

Aizawa was about to open his mouth, but his eyes caught on the tightening of Tamaki’s fists on his shirt, and looked back at his student’s face.

“I think I needed to be that close to dying to realize how small it all was in comparison.” Tamaki spread his fingers out, trying to raise his eyes until he was looking at Aizawa’s shirt, not daring to go any further. “When I was dying, I wasn’t really thinking about what I loathed at all. I was thinking about everything else. All the things I still loved. In the face of death, the issues didn’t seem to matter. At that point, it was a choice of what I wanted more: release or a second chance.”

Tamaki removed his eyes from Aizawa just as they were creeping up towards his face, instead opting to grab the bag and haul it into his lap, shuffling through it.

“Anyway, I uh, brought some things I thought might help you be a bit more comfortable as you sat here. It’s pretty stressful to have to go through something like this for someone else and, uh, I thought you could use some of this…” Aizawa exhaled heavily as he noticed Tamaki trying to direct the conversation away from him now. But Aizawa would let him: this was obviously a sensitive topic to those who went through it, and it would be a pretty shitty move to try to pry now.

Aizawa was actually glad his student had shown up. He’d thought ahead and had brought some pretty useful things, for the teachers and Todoroki. He must’ve visited Hizashi as well, because he had Aizawa’s forgotten wallet so that he could get some snacks when hungry.

Tamaki had actually seemed pretty sheepish when he pulled out the last item in the bag: what seemed to be a deformed stuffed animal with no clear indication of what it was supposed to be. Aizawa sent him a quizzical look, and Tamaki sank into his shoulders.

“I, uh, Mirio got me something similar, back then.” He shrugged, though how that was possible when his neck was pretty much a part of his shoulders, Aizawa wasn’t sure. “It was the first thing that really made me laugh afterwards, so I thought maybe your student could use something like it.”

Aizawa almost thought he could laugh too. The thing was its own kind of hideous; he was sure anyone would laugh under normal circumstances. He made sure to shoot Tamaki a grateful smile.

“I’m sure I speak for all of us, Todoroki included, when I say that I’m really glad you ended up coming, and thankful for what you brought.”

Tamaki’s face colored in the way it usually did whenever he was put on the spot unexpectedly, avoiding eye contact.

“It’s, uh, no big deal, really.” He looked down at his lap. “I just wanted to return the favor. I know I would’ve felt a bit better if I had known that Mirio wasn’t suffering the whole time he was waiting for me. It might help your student to know that you weren’t just sitting in uncomfortable chairs with nothing to eat or drink the whole time you waited.”

Aizawa nodded. “I’m glad to have your insight. Would you want me to tell him about this for you? I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

Tamaki’s face went from pink to red. Aizawa could almost see steam coming from his ears.

“Oh, no, that’s okay.” He laughed nervously, pulling at his hair a bit. “You don’t need to tell him it’s from me or anything. I don’t need that kind of acknowledgement. It’ll be all I need knowing it’s helped a little.”

Aizawa nodded. He’d expected Tamaki to say that. He’d never been about acknowledgement or appreciation; he did things just to do them. And if he truly thought it would help Todoroki to know that his teachers weren’t put through discomfort in order to get him help, then Aizawa would trust that. Especially coming from someone who’d gone through something similar.

By the time All Might and Hawks started stirring, Tamaki was gone. He hadn’t wanted to stay too long, and being confronted by the other two heroes—former number one and current number two—probably wasn’t on his bucket list.

All Might and Hawks had both told Aizawa off for not waking one of them up to take over his shift, but he’d admitted that he felt loads better, and didn’t feel tired enough to go back to sleep. He told them one of his old students had dropped by to give them a few things, and after he got them looking through the bag they were no longer that interested in chewing him out.

He was thankful for the conversation they’d had. It had him feeling a lot better about how to handle things when Todoroki woke up.

“Look, I don’t know, okay?” Hawks whispered harshly into the phone. “We haven’t been allowed in. Doctors say he’s still out cold. All I can tell you is that he’s in recovery, and seems to be doing better.”

Hawks almost wished the league would go back to mostly ignoring him. He was always trying to get them to talk to him more, to possibly give him more information, but right now he just wanted to put his phone on silent.

He lowered his voice even more, though he was a few meters out of anyone else’s earshot. “Look, you can’t be calling me in the middle of a hospital. What if someone heard your voice? I can’t have my cover blown-”

“Yeah, yeah.” Shigaraki muttered, obviously disregarding what he’d just said. “We get it. You don’t want to be seen with us. Whatever.”

Hawks scowled. “I just don’t want to be arrested right in the middle of-”

“Well, I mean, you are a spy for the league, so-”

Dabi’s amused voice really had Hawks wishing he’d outright declined the call. Instead, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.

“Why can’t you guys just be stingy with your calls like normal people instead of calling me on speaker every single time? It’s chaos.”

“HA!” Toga practically screeched into the receiver. “We’re better at sharing than heroes! How funny!”

“Shut up, Toga!” Dabi snarled, and it sounded like something got thrown, probably at Dabi, judging by the grunt he made. He cursed at her, and then they both seemed to run off, Dabi shouting obscenities as she giggled.

He heard a long sigh. “Idiots.”

Right now, Hawks thought he might be able to agree with Shigaraki.

“Just-” Hawks bit back another sigh. “Just don’t call me when you know I’m in public, yeah? Anyways, I’ve got to go. So I’ll-”

“Don’t even think about calling me back.” Shigaraki snapped. “I don’t want to hear your gross-ass voice over the phone more than I have to.”

Hawks scowled. “Right back at you, Fingers.”

“Stop calling me-”

“Anyways, bye!”

He made sure to hang up before Shigaraki began threatening to dust his face off. That was per the usual for them, occurring at least once in every single one of their interactions.

He pocketed his phone and strode back to his seat, where he’d left his can of coffee to take the call. That had almost been a disaster, as Aizawa had been sitting right next to him. Luckily, Hawks refused to have a person’s actual name as their contact like a normal person. So when he received a call from Crusty Cuticles , Aizawa merely raised an eyebrow at him.

He took a swig from his can, but the once-cold coffee was now lukewarm, which made him shudder. Gross.

Aizawa didn’t acknowledge him as he sat back down, picking through several items in the bag his former student had given him. Hawks found it odd that Aizawa wouldn’t tell them which student it had been, but he wasn’t going to question it now. He was just thankful for the things the student had brought.

He was about to make a comment to Aizawa about the weird deformed stuffed animal he was handling when the door to Todoroki’s room opened. All at once, the three pros stood up, staring at the doctor who exited.

He looked up, apparently not shocked at the eagerness of the pros. Instead, he nodded, gesturing to the door.

“He’s awake.”

Chapter Text

Shouto and the pro heroes in the room remained at a standstill, neither daring to speak first. Shouto kept his eyes trained straight ahead at the wall, pretending that the fresh cuts on his arms weren’t on full-display.

Even on what should’ve been his deathbed, Todoroki Shouto was the perfect depiction of apathy. His face betrayed nothing, even when it had been so clear to these people earlier how much was wrong.

Imagine Shouto’s devastation when he’d woken up. He could excuse the moments when his head would clear just enough to hear voices, or feel the convulsions going on in his stomach. He figured that after a few of those he’d be free from anything else.

He had not even allowed himself to entertain the idea that he would open his eyes and still be here. Awake. In recovery. Alive.

He hadn’t even wanted to think about it, and now here he was, eyes open, awake, recovering, alive.

This wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Why didn’t he get to die? Why did he have to survive? Why did they have to save him? He had been so ready… and now…

And now what? What were they going to do to him? Send him back to Endeavor? That would just be another death sentence; at this point Shouto was prepared for that. Or maybe they’d send him…

No. They wouldn’t. They couldn’t do that to him.

They might choose to send him to a psychiatric ward until he was deemed ‘cured’ of his mental illness, ‘fully recovered’ as if he’d just fought off a disease.

He was not sick. He would not go to a mental hospital. He could not end up like… her, stuck in a psychiatric hospital with no way out other than to open up to others about all the trauma that was too painful to even think about.

Shouto couldn’t—wouldn’t—do it. He would not allow himself to suffer that same fate as she had. He would make sure he died before he ever got stuck in one of those prisons.

“Todoroki.”

Shouto became aware that he had zoned out, had been ignoring them. If he listened, he could hear that his heart monitor was speeding up, but they hadn’t seemed to notice that yet, all intently focused on Shouto, who was intently focused on anything other than them.

“You’ve been going through a hard time, that much is clear,” Aizawa began, coming to sit down in the chair beside his bed. Shouto pointedly did not look at him, did not indicate that he would make any response.

He would not give them anything else to use against him.

He would not be sent to a prison like his… her.

He had done nothing wrong. This he would stand by.

He was acutely aware of the pounding in his head, almost as painful as his throat—which felt as if it was on fire—and the rest of his body, as if he’d been put through a meat grinder and miraculously—dreadfully—survived.

Still, regardless of all the different types of pain he was in—sharp or dull, prominent or sporadic—he gave nothing away. He made sure he did not wince, nor did he allow himself to flinch when Aizawa unexpectedly scooted his chair closer to his bedside in order to regain Shouto’s attention.

He did not give Aizawa the satisfaction of having it, eyes remaining intently focused on the wall, as if it was so much more interesting than the tense, painfully blatant elephant in the room.

“The nurse said you should be able to talk now,” Aizawa muttered, letting out an unsatisfied hum. “She said your throat would be in pain, but it would be manageable for you to speak. Why won’t you, Todoroki?”

Shouto bit down on his tongue, not hard enough for his teacher to see his jaw clench, but hard enough to solidify his resolve to himself: say nothing.

Anything is everything in this situation. He might as well be handing them an open file about everything to do with him if he was to open his mouth.

So he steadfastly refused.

Aizawa sighed, and Shouto thought he might have vaguely been able to see his teacher run a hand over his face.

“Is this about Endeavor?”

Shouto involuntarily bristled ever so slightly at that name. It might have gone unnoticed, but the heart monitor he was attached to detailed the sudden spike in his heart rate. Traitor.

The pros glanced at the heart monitor, but only Aizawa moved to say anything more about it.

“He’s been hurting you, hasn’t he?”

Shouto bit his tongue, refusing to lose face. No, not like this. Endeavor would not be exposed like this, with his pathetic excuse of a son in a hospital bed marred with self-inflicted wounds.

It would not end like this.

Still, he couldn’t stop the monitor from picking up every jab of fear he felt, every jolt of his heart. He wasn’t even opening his mouth and the pros were already getting what they wanted out of him.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid-

“Look, we can’t help you if we don’t know the extent of what’s going on.”

The door to the room opened, which saved Shouto from the pros hearing the third spike in his adrenaline as All Might went to see who it was.

“Todoroki…”

All Might turned back to the others in the room, smiling sheepishly.

“Your siblings are here.”

No noise could’ve overshadowed the sheer violence that his heartbeat became over the monitor. He couldn’t even stop his fists from clenching into the bed sheets as his body began to tremble.

“Todoroki,” he vaguely heard Aizawa call to him. “Do you want to see them?”

Shouto thought about it. Of course, he didn't want them to see him like this. He would have to own up to doing this to himself, and they would only blame themselves for not seeing it sooner. But who could blame them? It had only been a couple months since they’d truly started to get to know Shouto. If anything, this was Endeavor’s fault.

But Endeavor is changing, right? He’s not isolating Shouto anymore, and he’s only trying to help him become a stronger hero. He started changing after the Nomu attack, and he is making an effort with his family. He cared now. Just because things were still a little rough for Shouto didn’t mean that it wasn’t better. The training didn’t need to change because it had never been a problem in the first place. Training is just that: training. If it’s a little rough, or too much to handle, that’s on Shouto, not Endeavor. It’s Shouto that needs to change now, not Endeavor.

But a small part of him betrayed those feelings: are we really back to this again?

But Shouto refused to acknowledge those thoughts. Because he had never gone from that, not really. He had just been confused back then; Endeavor was changing, and the training had never been abuse to begin with. It was time for Shouto to acknowledge his weakness and move on to be stronger, like Endeavor wanted.

“They’re asking to see you, Todoroki.”

Shouto forced himself to stop trembling. This was fine; everything was fine. Truthfully, he wanted to see his siblings. And if that happened to push off the interrogation for a little while and allow Shouto to gather his bearings, then that was all the more reason to see them.

Slowly, he nodded. Aizawa nodded as well, standing up and herding the other pros out of the room. Within a few minutes, the door was opening again.

Shigaraki stared at the pathetic message on his phone. He was the only one left staring at it, as everyone else—who had previously been breathing down his neck and leaning over his shoulders for any sort of update—had all only been frustrated with the message and had promptly stormed off.

Shigaraki knew why Dabi was upset; the former Todoroki had insisted that he’d left any feelings he might’ve had for his family behind. But Shigaraki had seen the look of horror that had come over Dabi’s face when Hawks had first told them. He knew that look. It was the look of someone whose loved one was dying.

The emptiness that Dabi’s face had become was also familiar. Although Dabi’s expressionless face was a practiced facade, Shigaraki had never been one to hide what he was feeling. If his emotions bothered someone, good; they could all fuck off.

Shigaraki wasn’t confused about everyone else’s frustration either; the text had been cryptic, and they could only assume they wouldn’t be hearing from Hawks for a while.

He’s awake.

Thanks, dipshit. But what does that mean? Was he recovering? Barely lucid? In and out of consciousness? Did that mean that he was getting better or is the only development that he’s awake?

Shigaraki found himself wishing for the millionth time that Kurogiri was here. He would know what to do, how to act; he would handle everyone’s raging emotions. He always knew how to calm Shigaraki down.

He hadn’t even realized that he was scratching at his neck at this point; he almost never really noticed anymore. It was just a habit he couldn’t break.

Still, it felt good to satisfy something, some sort of urge. He knew he couldn’t go to the hospital in person, so the next best thing was tearing his own skin open.

He felt one of his fingers catch on the flaky skin, and the next thing he knew his finger was wet with something warm and vaguely sticky. Still, he couldn’t stop; the itch hadn’t been satisfied.

Then suddenly someone’s hands were grabbing his own from behind. He looked above him to see Dabi’s upside down face looking back at him. Wordlessly, he put Shigaraki’s hands down on the couch and walked around to the front of the couch.

He sat down next to him and held out his palm. Shigaraki scowled, but he held his tongue as he dug into his hoodie’s pocket and fished out the small ziploc of kiddie bandaids. It had been Kurogiri’s idea, to break his scratching habit by making him patch up his torn skin with something childish and humiliating.

Shigaraki waited in frustrated silence as Dabi put the most hideous bandaid he could find in the bag on his neck. At least he wouldn’t have to see it, unless he looked in a mirror, but just knowing it was there was punishment enough. How was he supposed to be a fear-striking villain leader if he wore bandaids meant for kids?

Compress came over as well; he had always been observant, and his calm demeanor reminded Shigaraki an awful lot of Kurogiri at times. He punctured a plastic straw into a juice box and held it out to Shigaraki.

Shigaraki looked at it with disdain, crossing his arms petulantly. But Compress was insistent, forcing Shigaraki to take it. He grumbled about it, made sure to check the flavor—apple, good—and took an angry sip. They all treated him like Kurogiri used to; it had originally annoyed Shigaraki, to be treated almost as a child, but he had quickly grown to appreciate being taken care of, especially now that Kurogiri was gone.

Being cared about… it felt like something he might’ve had once, from a person he’s almost forgotten about. A person who cared about him, who held him and patched him up, but their memory was just out of reach. Still, the comfort of those forgotten memories was there, and served to make Shigaraki more thankful that he was taken care of here.

But he would never say that he appreciated any of it; he had a reputation to uphold, after all. He would hold onto as much of his dignity as was still left, if there was any there to begin with.

The text wasn’t forgotten, but now that he had something in his system—ah, he’d forgotten to eat today; that was what the clenching of his stomach meant—his head was a little bit clearer, and he called out to Toga, who was across the room playing Jenga with Twice and Spinner.

She bounced over, smiling widely as she came to a stop before him.

“You needed something, Tomura-kun?”

He nodded, trying his best to ignore the Hello Kitty bandaid on his neck and the juice box in his hand.

“I have a small job for you, if you’re up for it.”

Toga smiled devilishly.

“Oh, anything.”

This time, in place of the pros, instead a teary Fuyumi and an uncomfortable Natsuo entered the bleak little hospital room. And instead of standing around with a heavy presence as the pros had, Fuyumi was already running right up to Shouto’s bedside, pushing aside his bangs and adamantly not looking at his exposed arms.

“Oh, Shouto!” She buried her face in his chest and wept. He tried not to focus on how the weight hurt; he probably deserved the pain after what he’d done.

“I didn’t want to believe it when they called! I- I-”

“I’m fine,” Shouto assured, gut twisting and throat burning with the small statement. They had been right about it being painful to speak, but he wouldn’t let himself feel better now; he deserved to suffer after what he’d tried to do. “It’s okay.”

And really, it was—he was. He was fine; he had to be. Things were okay now. He just hoped they could all go agree to pretend none of this had happened. It would be easier to pretend that it hadn’t, so that he could go back to how things were. Because things were fine, he was fine. It would stay like that, with nothing wrong. Everything was fine.

“Oh, Shouto,” Fuyumi breathed out softly, picking her head up from Shouto’s chest to look at him with those teary eyes.

“It’s not okay.” Her smile was unsteady, but there nonetheless. “You’re not fine, and that’s okay. It’s okay to need help, Shouto. That’s why we’re here: we love you and we want to do what we can to help you.”

Natsuo hadn’t said anything, hadn’t moved since they’d come in. He bit his lip and came forward to stand beside Fuyumi hesitantly.

“They told us what happened,” Natsuo began, slowly as he took in his younger brother. “But they didn’t tell us why. I don’t really think they know.”

Fuyumi frowned at Shouto, obviously confused. “You haven’t told them about Dad?”

Shouto bristled. “Why would I tell them about him? Everything’s fine now.”

Natsuo glanced at the heart monitor, which was now beating a little faster, but Fuyumi steadfastly ignored it, her attention trained solely on Shouto.

“Shouto, I was there the other day.” She pinched her lips, casting a worried look at Natsuo, probably to see how he would react to what she was saying. “I heard the sounds coming from the training room. Nothing about that has changed. And nothing about that has ever been fine.”

Natsuo’s brow pinched with ire, though he said nothing.

“It’s really fine, Fuyumi.” Shouto insisted, despite the fact that it felt like his fire Quirk was centered in his throat; he couldn’t care less at the moment. “It’s nothing I can’t handle anymore. Endeavor, he-”

“Shouto,” Fuyumi gently placed her hand on his cheek to cup his face, effectively silencing him. “What you’re thinking, and saying? It’s not healthy. I used to think that way, when I would try to convince myself that Dad wasn’t hurting you or Touya.” The name stung all of them, the three of them sharing a collective wince. “But to think that you have the same thoughts that I did, when you actually went through it…”

She shook her head, biting her now trembling lip.

“How can you do that?”

“It’s messed up,” Natsuo said, crossing his arms. The anger in his voice was evident. “It’s Endeavor’s fault. Somehow he got it in your head the same way he did with Touya—to think it’s deserved, that it’s an honor to have Endeavor beat the everloving shit out of a little kid.”

Shouto’s fists clenched harder into the sheets.

“No,” he shook his head halfheartedly. “It’s not like that…”

“Then tell me, Shouto,” Natsuo placed a hand on one of Shouto’s fists, white from how hard he was clenching the sheets. “What is it like?”

But Shouto couldn’t really put it into words. It was like they were looking at two different equations. To Shouto, there was no problem to address. His internal thought process these last few days was jumbled and somewhere along the way he’d convinced himself that there was no problem. But he didn’t know how to articulate any of that to his siblings, who obviously wouldn’t buy it anyway.

Instead, he hung his head in defeat, causing both of his siblings to let out a sigh.

“I want to stay with you, Shouto,” Fuyumi began, voice trembling. “But a part of me knows that you only let us in here because it would give you time to avoid talking to your teachers.”

Shouto raised his head to disagree, but no words would come out. Fuyumi could read him better than he thought she could.

Weakness.

“For your sake,” Fuyumi stood to her full height, brushing aside Shouto’s bangs once more. “We’re going to go out into the hallway so you’ll actually speak to your teachers.”

Shouto tried to protest, but his throat was so dry and painful that the only thing that came out was a pathetic croak.

Fuyumi’s eyes softened. “Please talk to them, Shouto.”

Natsuo huffed as well, taking his hand from Shouto’s to cross his arms once more.

“If you won’t talk to them, then we will.”

Shouto’s eyes widened, and he looked from Fuyumi to Natsuo and back again, seeking clarification that they wouldn’t actually. Natsuo might, but Fuyumi?

Fuyumi bit her lip, hanging her head slightly as she nodded.

“I’m sorry Shouto,” she took a deep breath to steady her voice. “I don’t want to be the bad guy, but I’m not letting this continue. I won’t stand by and let you go into that training room alone with Dad ever again. I need to know you’re safe. And if your teachers don’t know about this, then I don’t think you will be.”

She leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead before pulling away and giving him a soft smile.

“Please, give them a chance. They can help you.”

Shouto bit his lip to keep it from trembling. Fuyumi took notice, patting his hand with hers once more.

“Is there anything you want us to do for you? Maybe I can make you food when you feel up to eating again?”

Shouto opened his mouth, forcing his throat to do what he wanted.

Fuyumi and Natsuo both leaned forward as his voice came out in barely a whisper.

“Please,” he croaked, blinking harshly so no tears would form in his eyes. He looked up at them, pleading.

“Don’t tell… her.”

Fuyumi frowned, her grip on his hand tightening ever so slightly.

“Who, Shouto?”

Shouto felt like his whole body wanted to tremble uncontrollably, but he refused to allow it. Instead, he forced himself to take a deep, shaky breath inward, steeling himself for what he absolutely had to say, absolutely needed them to hear.

“Don’t tell Mom.”

It hurt—to see Todoroki so still, calm and emotionless—that Aizawa could almost believe that nothing was wrong. Todoroki had presented himself as always: a perfectly blank slate with no blemishes. Faultless. Statuesque.

The fact that his heart could start beating so painfully while he still managed to expose no expression hurt Aizawa’s chest. He was supposed to be able to tell when his students were hurting. Todoroki had every right, every reason, to expose his pent up emotions; the emotions that had almost killed him. Todoroki should be allowed the luxury of being vulnerable for once, but instead he still did his absolute best to hide it.

And, honest to say, Aizawa might not have been able to see that anything was wrong at all had the heart monitor not given him away.

His siblings had left the room, asking Aizawa and the others to go in and talk to him again, but Aizawa was starting to regret listening to them. Maybe he should’ve given Todoroki more time before coming back to question him.

He answered a few questions with a nod or shake of the head: Are you doing okay? Nod, though obviously a lie. Are you hungry? Shake, he looked queasy at the mere mention of food. Do you want anything while we talk? Shake, he seemed determined to not admit to needing anything.

Aizawa didn’t want to ask another yes or no question; those weren’t getting him anywhere. He needed some sort of answer, and it would have to be verbal.

“What is Endeavor to you?”

Todoroki opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. The heart monitor picked up ever so slightly. It took a few more minutes before, finally, Todoroki seemed to settle on an answer.

His voice came out weak and hoarse: “My father.”

“Don’t give me any of that, Todoroki.” Aizawa’s eyes hardened. “I have never heard you call him that once over the duration of the entire year so far.”

“How about this question,” Hawks began, stepping up to get a little closer to the bed. “Has Endeavor ever hurt you?”

Todoroki bit his lip, seemingly trying to avoid the question. The monitor spiked.

Todoroki squeezed his eyes shut and slowly shook his head. Aizawa sighed, frowning.

“Todoroki,” his student stiffened. “Can you look me in the eyes and tell me verbally?”

Todoroki opened his eyes and looked at Aizawa. He was almost startled by the brimming fear in his student’s eyes as he opened his mouth in an attempt to answer.

“No…” But it came out as a croak; Aizawa doubted anyone would believe that.

“Todoroki…” Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged his brow as he huffed, mulling it over. Finally, he picked his head back up to meet Todoroki’s eyes.

“What drove you to try to kill yourself?”

The million dollar question, and Aizawa was tired of stalling. He knew Todoroki, how stubborn he could be; if he didn’t just outright ask him, Todoroki would take any opportunity to avoid answering truthfully.

This was not a yes or no question; Todoroki would provide an answer, regardless of whether or not it was true. Aizawa was not giving him the option of an easy answer again. If he wanted to lie, he was going to have to put more work into it. It would be easier to tell the truth; hopefully Todoroki would see that.

“I-” Todoroki’s voice caught in his throat, but the pros knew to be patient. If they interrupted him even once, he would seize the opportunity to avoid the question entirely.

“He- it’s just-” Todoroki dropped his head, shielding his face from their sight. It was the first true display of his vulnerability. It was probably a hint that his walls were cracking.

“It’s fine,” he croaked, but it was so obviously a lie that even he seemed to know. “I’m not- I- not going to do it again.”

Aizawa scooted his chair closer to Todoroki’s bed, gaze softening.

“Even if you’re not going to do it again,” Aizawa mumbled softly, doing his best to comfort his student. “You still tried to do it once. I want to know why so that I can help you. If I don’t know what’s wrong, then who knows if anyone can help if you decide to try again.”

Todoroki’s breathing was stuttering, and he seemed to be trying to calm himself down. Aizawa allowed this; it wasn’t an interrogation, after all. He didn’t want his student stressed or wary of the pros. He wanted his student to feel safe. It was blatantly obvious he hadn’t felt safe in a while.

The door opened then, revealing a nurse, and Aizawa just about wished he had Bakugou’s Quirk so he could explode something. Todoroki wasn’t going to feel comfortable talking to anyone if people kept barging in.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said, and she actually seemed to mean it. That didn’t make Aizawa any less mad about the intrusion though. “Um, Todoroki-san is here to see his son…”

The reaction was immediate, Todoroki sitting straight up in an attempt to get up from the bed. Luckily Hawks reacted quickly, grabbing Todoroki by the shoulders and keeping him steady. Aizawa was almost worried the heart monitor would break with how fast his student’s heart was beating.

“No, don’t-” Todoroki’s eyes were wild and frantic. “I can’t-”

“I won’t let him in if you don’t want him here, Todoroki.” Aizawa assured, and felt his heart ache at how quickly Todoroki deflated in relief. “But I can’t keep him out of this room for long unless we have a good reason to provide the hospital with. As a pro hero whose son is in the hospital, I would need a pretty good reason.”

Hawks asked the nurse to tell the hospital staff that Endeavor couldn’t come into the room yet, per the patient’s wishes. Aizawa kept his attention solely on Todoroki, who was trembling now.

“Todoroki,” Aizawa softened his voice, coming closer but being careful to give his student space. “Try to breathe with me, okay? He’s not coming in here. We’ll keep him away for now. If you can give me a reason, I can probably get his access to this room revoked permanently.”

Todoroki nodded, following what appeared to be well-practiced breathing exercises. Aizawa tried not to think about how many panic attacks one would have to have for them to be so experienced in the middle of one.

It took him a few minutes to stop shaking, but eventually his breathing had more or less leveled out, and he leaned back against the elevated bed.

“Well,” Todoroki bit his lip, still refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Still, the three pros in the room were well-practiced in patience.

“Have you ever heard of Quirk marriages?”

Nothing ever happened to Shouto without Enji knowing about it.

He made sure to check up on him nightly, and first thing in the morning. Although Shouto rarely ever responded to any of the messages, they were always at least read within a half hour.

But now there were six messages that Shouto hadn’t even looked at. So Enji had tried calling him; Shouto never dodged his calls. Occasionally he would hang up early, but he would always answer unless giving an express reason the second he saw the missed call.

No reason came. Not one.

Anyone would worry for their kid, especially when you were the number one hero with a target on your back, and thus everyone else in your family was in danger of villains as well. But the school would’ve called him if a villain had attacked. The media would’ve been all over it if another student had been kidnapped.

Enji considered that this might be a new type of rebellion Shouto was trying out, but Enji was fairly certain he had abandoned his petulant tantrums and was actually accepting his purpose now.

He decided that, if he could get any information about this, it would be at Shouto’s school.

He had dropped by unexpectedly. Although, he didn’t think it was so unexpected that no teacher was sent to greet him. He wasn’t met with Eraserhead when he made his way into Shouto’s class dorm building, nor had All Might attempted to make friends when Enji’s presence was so obvious. Strange.

For some reason, the students of Shouto’s class seemed to be avoiding him, averting their eyes or drastically changing their direction whenever they strayed too close to him.

Finally, the green one—Midoriya—shuffled up to him, meek-looking and pathetic as always.

“Uh, sir?” His smile was strained. “To what do we owe the ple- uh, this visit?”

Enji scowled down at him; this was the boy whom Shouto had told. Regardless of his son’s excuses, he didn’t trust Shouto not to do something so childish and petty.

“I am worried about Shouto,” Enji said, keeping his voice level to not give away the anger he was forced to restrain; if he wanted these children to cooperate, he would need to act accordingly. “He hasn’t been answering my calls or messages. Is he here? Is he safe?”

After all, Enji wouldn’t want his masterpiece to be in any way harmed.

“I- uh…” Midoriya’s hands met together at the hem of his shirt, fiddling with it; he was definitely hiding something.

“As a parent, it is my responsibility to look out for my son. If there is a reason I cannot, I would like to know.”

His glare hardened as the boy still was not able to form a coherent sentence, mumbling beneath his breath and mixing his syllables.

“T-Todoroki-kun isn’t here. He went with Aizawa-sensei-”

“Where?”

“I-I don’t really know…”

It was a lie, maybe half true. He probably had an idea of where Shouto was, just not the exact location.

“Is there anyone willing to give me a better answer?”

He looked around the common room, where most of the other children had tensed. He turned to the kitchen, where a blond boy frantically went back to slicing cheese, and the other student to get in on recommendations—Yaoyorozu—ducked her head back over her steeping tea.

“Guess you’re out of luck.”

His eyes snapped over to the angry blond who had won the Sports Festival, Bakugou. The heat in his glare rivaled Enji’s, unrelenting and ruthless.

So it would seem Enji would get nowhere with these children. He sighed, resigning himself to demanding the answers from Nezu, or—if it came to it—Fuyumi or Natsuo; he was certain they were informed about this. They might’ve even been in on it to get back at Enji.

He had just made it to the path leading to UA’s gate when he came upon two other students, who looked a little older than Shouto’s class.

“Did Aizawa appreciate the stuff you brought?”

A loud blond, very much like All Might used to be, slung his arm around his friend’s shoulder, who began to flush a deep red. So, these two knew the whereabouts of Eraserhead? The small one had visited him?

“I think? I mean, he seemed genuine.”

“I’m sure it helped a lot. Hospital chairs are super uncomfortable.”

Enji could feel a picture forming in his head. What’s this about a hospital?

“I just hope Todoroki recovers soon. It took me months after my attempt before I started feeling any better.”

Todoroki. Recover. Attempt.

Ah. Now it was starting to make sense.

“I’m sure he’ll be doing better after he gets the help he needs, like you.” He grinned widely, wrapping his arms around his friend’s waist and spinning him around before setting him back down on his feet. “We don’t know his problems, but someone does. The teachers will help.”

The help he needs. Problems. Yes, Enji knew it now. Of course Shouto would be foolish enough to do something like that. What, was he trying to get Enji in trouble? He would thoroughly make up for his insolence.

Enji stalked over to them, seeming to startle the smaller one, whereas the loud blond only smiled up at him.

“Heya, Endeavor, sir. Did you need something?”

“Yes, I heard you talking about my son.” The other two stiffened, looking at each other. “I cannot seem to find a member of UA’s faculty who will talk to me about him. I consider it careless on their part, but I am worried about my son and the lack of information about him. Is there somewhere you can point me to?”

He was working on the assumption that these two were ignorant of anything but Shouto’s actions.

It appeared they didn’t know, which led them to tell Enji the gist of the situation and give him the address of which hospital he was staying at.

This would be the last time Shouto thought of bringing such humiliation to the Todoroki household and Enji’s name. He would make sure of it. If Shouto wanted to play dirty, then so be it.

The more Todoroki talked, the more sick Hawks felt.

He had been hoping that there might’ve been some misunderstanding, that maybe the reason he freaked out whenever Endeavor was brought up was because he didn’t want his father to see him suffering, or know what he’d tried to do.

The first straw was the Quirk marriage; Endeavor had bought Rei from her parents for the purpose of creating a child with the perfect Quirk. The fact that it was something Hawks could picture Endeavor doing made him angrier.

Then it was the kids; Endeavor had trained his eldest to become his successor but had not stopped having kids until the perfect child came along. He tossed aside his eldest and considered three of his children failures. He shunned and neglected them all.

Then it was the isolation; Todoroki was forbidden from speaking to or being around his other three siblings. His room was moved to a more isolated part of the house, closer to Endeavor’s room and the training dojo. The only other person he was allowed to interact with was his mother.

Next it was the training; it sounded more like a series of brutal beatings to Hawks, the way Todoroki described it. The second his Quirk had manifested, he spent everyday puking or passing out.

And then the mother; she had tried getting in the way of Endeavor’s brutal training of a five year old, which only put her in the line of fire. The abuse from her husband drove her crazy, to the point where she couldn’t even see her kids anymore, instead only seeing him. She had apparently called Todoroki’s left side unbearable, and then a sudden panic attack had caused her to pour boiling water on his face.

Hawks wanted to puke at that. How awful it must’ve been to have the only person who comforted you, the only person who could help you, turn and scar you like that, both physically and psychologically.

What seemed to be Todoroki’s final point was Touya; his brother, who had been trying to regain Endeavor’s love and attention all this time, died by his own fire. He had been manipulated into thinking that Endeavor’s abuse meant that he was privileged, not a failure. So once it had been taken away, he was desperate for any sort of validation from him again. He had asked Endeavor to meet with him so he could show his father all the training and hard work he’d put in, even though his Quirk burned him. When Endeavor had failed to show up, Touya’s Quirk had activated, presumably due to his mental instability, and it had gone out of control. It had gotten so bad that there wasn’t even a body to recover, only charred remains.

But the whole time, Hawks didn’t think Todoroki actually said Touya’s name, and had only said the word mother once. After that, she was only called she, as though Todoroki couldn’t bring himself to say much more about either.

As Todoroki finished his tangent, the three pros stood in mortified silence. All Might had so far not said anything throughout the entire meeting, so Hawks didn’t expect him to say anything. Hawks prided himself on his ability to always think of something to say, but right now he was speechless. Aizawa, who was usually able to keep a level head and not give away his emotions, was rigid in his chair, unable to reign his emotions in as Todoroki only looked down at his lap.

“I-” Todoroki cleared his hoarse throat. It was obvious that it was still bothering him, and Hawks wished he could get a handle on himself and go get Todoroki some water, but he was still shell-shocked. “I wasn’t going to tell anyone. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, now that he’s changing.”

Surprisingly, it was All Might who snapped out of his stupor first.

“Is he changing?”

Todoroki barely spared him a glance. “Yes. He’s trying to be better to Fuyumi and Natsuo. He wants to atone for what he did.”

“But is anything different about the abuse, young Todoroki?”

Hawks didn’t miss the way Todoroki’s fists clenched into the sheets.

“It- well, I’m getting stronger, so it’s easier to deal with…”

All Might only sighed. “That doesn’t mean it’s changing, nor does it mean Endeavor is changing. That means you’re changing. Your body is adapting to the severity of the situation.”

“And,” Aizawa sighed, sitting up a bit straighter. “I’m guessing this spiral began with the lessons on child abuse?”

Todoroki seemed to hesitate, but nodded nonetheless.

“I never really thought that it might be abuse, until we had that lesson…”

The door opened again, revealing the same nurse from before.

“Alright, we’ve temporarily revoked Endeavor-san’s access to this room, but he’s not happy about it. He wants to see his son, and is demanding to be let in.” She frowned as a loud yell came from down the hallway, and Todoroki flinched slightly. “We’re going to need a reason to keep him out for good.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” All Might bowed, and the nurse blushed as she left the room.

Hawks frowned at the others. “How did he find out about this? I didn’t think Nezu was going to tell him?”

Aizawa sighed, running a hand over his face. “The Nezu I know would have taken this to his grave. Either Endeavor got it from the students, his other kids, or if he somehow has Todoroki chipped.”

Todoroki scoffed bitterly. “Wouldn’t put it past him.”

But his tone was just a bit lighter, which made Hawks’ chest swell just a little.

“We’ll inform the hospital staff that he’s under suspicion of abuse.” Aizawa stood, nodding to Todoroki. “They may not believe it, but by law they have to abide by the wishes of the patient if such claims are made. However, I hope you know that this means we’ll be taking further action on this.”

Todoroki’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded nonetheless.

“Yes, sir.”

“And Todoroki?”

He looked up from his lap apprehensively.

“You don’t have to tell everyone you’re fine if you’re not. It’s okay to need help.”

Todoroki bit his lip, but nodded in affirmation.

“We’ll let you talk to your siblings again, and then we have a few things that might help you. Someone visited and gave us a few things.” Aizawa gave him a small smile. “In the meantime, try to relax. You’ll be okay for now.”

Shouto was glad the conversation was over. And despite what Aizawa had said, he didn’t quite believe that he would be okay. He was supposed to be fine, but that had failed. He wasn’t supposed to tell them anything, and yet he’d gone and done it anyway.

He just didn’t know why Fuyumi and Natsuo seemed to be happy about it. More than anything, Fuyumi wanted to believe that Endeavor was changing. She had been on his side, and had wanted to keep the family secrets hidden. But now she was glad that Endeavor would probably get punished for this?

His chest did feel lighter than it had in… years, probably. But it came with a sort of guilt.

Endeavor said he was changing. He’s trying to change. Did I just ruin all of that?

Still, he gladly accepted the hug from Fuyumi, and when the pros returned, they were no longer seeking answers to difficult questions. In place of their questions, they instead supplied what someone had supposedly brought them.

His only reaction had been confusion when they gave him a deformed stuffed animal about the size of his palm. He turned it around in his hands, eyeballing it for a few minutes to try to figure out what it was supposed to be. When he couldn’t come up with anything, he shot a questioning look at Aizawa.

His teacher merely shrugged. “Don’t know either.”

Shouto turned back to look at it once again. It could’ve been one of three animals off the top of his head, and it was extremely ugly. So many flaws, so imperfect, and yet…

Shouto felt the smallest smile tug at his lips as he looked at it.

He immediately loved the thing. He was allowed one imperfection in his life, right? Well, this silly little stuffed whatever-it-was wore its imperfections shamelessly, in a way Shouto never could.

He liked the reminder that imperfect things can still be loved.

But, he really shouldn’t take such comfort in that thought. Shouto wasn’t supposed to be imperfect, wasn’t supposed to be loved. He was born to be a masterpiece. If he failed at that, then all of those years of torture in that training room—all those times she stood in front of him to take the blow—would be meaningless.

Shouto would not let her be reduced to meaningless. That had destroyed his oldest brother, had left Fuyumi and Natsuo abandoned. Shouto wished that they could’ve been given meaning in Endeavor’s eyes, but that would only mean that they would be more battered pawns in his play to victory. That had been Shouto’s price of being meaningful.

Shouto had never really felt meaningful outside of that training room. In a twisted way, he was dependent on the abuse. It kept him standing tall; it meant that he was allowed to be strong. If he hadn’t been let into that training room, then it meant that he was nothing.

But he didn’t want his self-worth to originate from the feeling of cold, hard wood on his face, from the smell of smoke and vomit, from the severe lack of breath and overabundant presence of pain.

Slowly, he looked back up from the toy. He wanted to say that he no longer liked it, but regrettably he did. Some small part of himself still wanted to assure him that he wasn’t perfect—didn’t have to be—and it was okay.

But it wasn’t okay to be imperfect. Thankfully, Endeavor had trained him until he had become perfect, forged under pressure until he emerged as a flawless diamond.

He was perfect, so everything was fine.

Right?

Aizawa went home that night. Although he didn’t like the idea of not being by Todoroki’s side, he knew it would be for the best. He hadn’t slept decently since before the whole ordeal had started.

The room was quiet, which was unusual. He stayed in the faculty dormitories just a few minutes away from the student dorms. He could’ve gotten his own room, but he and Hizashi didn’t see the need to be separated.

Maybe it should be less unusual for their dorm to be so quiet at such a late hour, but Aizawa knew that Hizashi was almost always up late, either planning a radio show or doing his lesson plans last minute.

Hizashi might’ve been just as tired as Aizawa after having to take over responsibility for Class 1A; Aizawa knew they could be a handful.

However, it was proven that his assumption about Hizashi sleeping had been wrong. As soon as he entered the bedroom, he found his husband scrolling away on his phone, a frown on his face.

“ ‘Zashi?”

Hizashi looked up, smiling gently when he laid his eyes on Aizawa, who almost definitely looked worse for wear. He got up from the bed and made his way over, helping his husband shrug off his bag and jacket as Aizawa kicked off his shoes. Changing into pajamas was a blur of gentle movements and warm touches, which was especially refreshing after all Aizawa had had was hard chairs and cold hallways.

“How is he?”

Aizawa hummed as he slid into bed, snuggling under the extra soft and warm covers.

“Better. Still not great, but he’s awake and talking.”

“Talking? Did he…?”

Hizashi’s unasked question hung in the air for a few minutes without being addressed. Finally, Aizawa sighed, sitting up in bed just slightly.

“He talked about Endeavor.” Aizawa said, earning an alarmed look from his husband. Hizashi climbed into bed beside him, hissing when his warm legs pressed against Aizawa’s cold skin.

“What did he say?”

Aizawa ran a tired hand over his face, muffling a low groan. “He said a lot, Hizashi. So much that I think we’d have a pretty solid case against Endeavor.”

Hizashi frowned, running calloused fingertips over Aizawa’s elbow in a calming manner.

“So, it’s really true? Your theory about Endeavor?”

Aizawa sighed more deeply this time, sinking into the mattress a little more as he melted into Hizashi’s touch.

“More than I thought. Could barely stomach the whole story.” He turned his head to press his face into Hizashi’s side, exhaustion overwhelming him now that he was actually comfortable. “Kid’s gone through so much I kinda want to screw hero protocol just to strangle Endeavor.”

Hizashi hummed, which Aizawa could feel from where his head was laying.

“Well, get some rest, Sho. You’re not going to be able to put up much of a fight against the number one hero if you’re too tired to hold a conversation with your oh-so-wonderful husband.”

Aizawa huffed out the slightest laugh, letting his eyes slide closed as Hizashi scooted farther down in bed to be even with him. He certainly felt like he could sleep for three days.

“Love you, ‘Zashi.”

“Love you too, Sho.”

Hawks stayed with Todoroki in the hospital so that All Might and Aizawa could both go home and rest. Hawks had offered to stay and remain awake to watch over the kid. Besides, Hawks didn’t think he could’ve gotten any rest if he had gone home.

Endeavor had left in a fit. He was not told expressly why he hadn’t been let in the room; the hospital staff hadn’t been able to say it to his face, so they just told him that he couldn’t go into the room for now.

Of course, Hawks had worked with Endeavor for a while. Though the hospital staff, along with Aizawa and All Might, believed they would be rid of Endeavor for at least a few days, Hawks felt almost itchy at the thought of putting that theory to the test.

He offered to stay with Todoroki not only to watch the kid, but also to assure himself that Endeavor would not be able to get into the room. If there was one person who stood a chance at keeping the number one hero out, it was the number two hero.

He checked in every half hour, making sure Todoroki slept soundly and didn’t try anything now that he was mostly left alone. He had assured the pros earlier that he would not try to kill himself again, but he was a little too unstable during that conversation for Hawks to believe that.

A nurse he didn’t recognize approached him, handing him a cup of steaming coffee. He thanked her with a smile, taking a small sip. Somehow, she’d managed to make it exactly how he liked it.

“It’s a very dedicated thing to do, staying here and watching the kid.”

Hawks nodded, taking another sip. “This is what heroes do; we’re supposed to look out for people in need. Right now, this kid needs someone, though I don’t think he knows that yet.”

“People admire dedication to a cause.” The nurse continued, her smile turning sharper. Something about that was familiar… “Loyalty is something you can’t find everywhere. It’s something we appreciate, especially Tomura-kun.”

Tomura-kun?

Hawks went rigid, staring at the nurse, whose eyes were now a shining yellow, boring into him like they were having the most casual conversation in the world.

“Toga?”

She smiled, putting a finger to her lips as a gesture for him to be quiet. However, his mind began reeling. What was she-

“Why am I here?” His eyes snapped back to her. “That’s what you’re thinking, right?”

She giggled, running one of her hands through her hair in a playful gesture.

“I just love long hair, you know? I mean, I hate having it in my face when I’m trying to get some delicious blood, but-”

“Toga.”

“Fine, fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Always so impatient. Geez, Hawks. I thought you were fun, like Twice and Compress. Not a stick in the mud like Dabi and Spinner.”

“Toga, shh-”

“I’m here to check up on him.” She smiled innocently, though her eyes were anything but innocent right now. “You’ve been pretty good about keeping us updated, but you didn’t tell us that you got the scoop on Endeavor.”

Hawks quickly glanced around the hallway, trying to make sure nobody was around. He couldn’t see anyone, but he sent a few of his feathers to keep watch in case someone did happen to wander too close to them.

“He talked about Endeavor and what led him to act accordingly, but I’m not really supposed to tell anyone. Wouldn’t want there to be leaks-”

“Oh, we’ve been through this already.” Toga apparently had no qualms interrupting him every chance she got. “Who would listen to us? Just tell me the details! You-know-who’s going crazy tearing his hair out about this.”

Hawks was glad that she was at least keeping her voice down when she spoke in that excited tone. “Shigaraki?”

“Tomura-kun?” She raised an eyebrow, giving him a confused look. “No, silly! Dabi; he’s been pacing since you left. But he’s not the only one who wants to know what’s going on.”

Dabi, eh? Hawks hadn’t pegged him as the anxious type, especially when it came to hero kids. He seemed to care the bare minimum about the rest of the league of villains.

“Look, we can talk about it when I visit the base next. But not here; this is too public. You’re going to get caught. You’re going to get me caught.”

“You don’t give me any credit.” Toga pouted, crossing her arms. “Still don’t know why you like Twice more. Am I not fun enough?”

“At least Twice doesn’t make surprise visits to me in public-”

“He would if he could and we both know it.”

“Just- are we done here? Can you go before you get us both in a lot of trouble?”

“Alright, sheesh. What crawled up your ass this morning?” She uncrossed her arms, waving them at him as he opened his mouth to tell her off again. “Fine, I’m going, okay? But you better come to the base soon if you don’t want another surprise visit.”

Hawks nodded hastily, watching her walk away. He made sure a few of his feathers followed her until she was out the door of the hospital. Then he called them back to him.

Finally, he felt like he could breathe again, shoulders relaxing as he let out a shaky sigh of relief. Although, this did mean that at some point he would be obligated to leave Todoroki in someone else’s care while he went back to the base of the League of Villains to tell them. He had no doubt that another member, even more obvious than Toga, would try to sneak in. Hawks knew that Dabi had a habit of being extra reckless whenever he was fidgety.

Although, that did beg the question, why was Dabi the most upset by the whole ordeal? Hawks didn’t know much about him, but generally Twice or Spinner were the most empathetic. Dabi was at the bottom of that list.

Hawks decided to just chalk it up to Dabi’s greatest enemy, Endeavor, being involved. Nothing else made any sense.

But still, he couldn’t help the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that wouldn’t let up, even a little.

Chapter Text

Aizawa returned Thursday morning for class.

Midoriya took this as a good sign; their teacher probably wouldn’t have returned unless Todoroki was doing okay, right?

The second he took the podium, several hands shot up in insistence. Aizawa looked over them with tired eyes before sighing. He raised his hand to silence those who were already voicing their worries.

“Before you all ask,” he mumbled, surveying the students in turn. “Todoroki is currently in recovery. He woke up yesterday afternoon.”

A collective sigh of relief was let out across the classroom, several students visibly wilting in relief.

“Um,” Midoriya held up his hand sheepishly. “When will he be returning to class?”

Aizawa cast him a quick glance before addressing the whole class.

“It’s hard to say. It depends on the physical and psychological recovery time. Until we receive a full report, I won’t have a proper estimation.”

“And what about Shitfire?”

Midoriya startled, looking over at Kacchan, who was probably glaring at Aizawa, though Midoriya could only see the side of his face.

“Do we know anything about Endeavor?” Kacchan restated, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Or is UA still not ready to address that?”

Aizawa blinked, clearly not having expected the class to put so much together on their own. Nonetheless, he turned away from Kacchan to address the class once again.

“I don’t know how much you’ve managed to figure out,” he fixed Midoriya with a pointed look; Present Mic must’ve told him that it had mostly been Midoriya poking around. “But in regard to this issue, actions are already being taken to handle the situation.”

Kacchan obviously had been looking for a less vague answer, if the clenching of his jaw was anything to go by. Midoriya saw another hand raise out of the corner of his eye, but Aizawa held up his hand.

“No more questions right now.” He was immediately met with several complaints, but quickly shut them down with a glowing glare. “We have a lesson to get through.”

The students resigned themselves to the lesson, not asking any more questions about Todoroki until they were dismissed. They moved to the locker rooms to change, although the guys avoided the connecting bathroom, where ice was still taking its time to melt. Apparently, the school had been swamped with other issues, primarily Todoroki himself, so the ice was due to be removed later.

Midoriya was a little surprised to see All Might there. Although, he supposed that he and Aizawa had returned from the hospital together. It left Midoriya wondering if there was anyone staying with Todoroki; surely it would be hard to keep Endeavor out of the room without a pro.

It hurt Midoriya to think that maybe Endeavor had access to the room, that he was allowed in to chew out his son.

Different worries still plagued Midoriya all throughout hero training, to the point where he was limping by the end. He ignored the injury, as it was minor, instead trying to get to lunch as quickly as possible to get some food in him. Hopefully that would take his mind off of other things for a while.

Aizawa had been on a call when they’d come back from lunch. He’d made a quick end to the call and gestured for them to leave again.

“Instead of another lesson, you’re going to be joining Class 1B for a joint rescue exercise in Ground Gamma.” He fixed them with one more glare as he locked the classroom behind him. “I trust you will behave for Vlad King and Midnight.”

Midoriya cocked his head, confused. Was Aizawa not coming with them?

True to that, Aizawa walked Class 1A to Ground Gamma, but immediately turned around and left, leaving his class with the other teachers.

Midoriya couldn't help but notice that Aizawa looked a little frantic in his steps.

It had honestly not been Shouto’s intention to rip out the IV in his right arm. Or the other IV in his left arm. It was an accident.

Sure, he might’ve been trying to reopen the wounds on his arms by incessantly scratching at his marred skin, but that was another thing. The sound of Endeavor—an angry Endeavor—just down the hallway had been jabbing at Shouto’s sanity for hours.

After he had been denied entry into Shouto’s room the day before, he’d stormed out in a fit, and they’d thought that would be the end of it.

If it didn’t hurt so much, Shouto would’ve been tempted to laugh at the naivete of the hospital staff and pro heroes present. They had too much faith in Endeavor.

Aizawa and All Might had returned to UA under the assumption that they wouldn’t have to deal with Endeavor for a while. They expected him to come back in a couple days in hopes that Shouto would change his mind, but never so early as the following day.

Shouto had known better, but he hadn’t voiced his worries to any of them. A part of him felt that if Endeavor were to come and punish him for his actions, he might end up dying from it.

So he’d kept quiet, hoping that it would take more than Hawks to keep Endeavor out of the room so that he could pull the plug with his fists or fire.

No such luck. Shouto didn’t get whatever nice things he wanted. Instead, Endeavor fussed for hours just down the hallway, close enough to put Shouto on edge, brimming with anxiety, but not close enough to put his worries at ease because if Endeavor gets in this room, I’m a dead man.

Hawks was standing outside the room, both to periodically check on Shouto and also to act as a barrier between the room and Endeavor. Shouto had been meticulously counting the time intervals at which Hawks would check in. When Endeavor was extra loud, it would be every five minutes. However, when Endeavor was quieter, it was every ten minutes.

Hawks had just checked in, and Endeavor seemed to be quieting down, so Shouto had seized the opportunity to administer whatever pain he could get from the wounds. It would serve to not only take his mind off of Endeavor’s presence, but should also return some control to Shouto.

He had been so blinded by panic—Endeavor’s voice and the time limit looming over him—that he hadn’t been careful enough with his movements.

He somehow managed to claw out the IV in his right arm, which was immediately engulfed by pain. He hissed, gasping quietly at the sensation. It was better than he had been hoping for.

So maybe he lied in saying that he hadn’t meant to pull out the second IV.

Endeavor’s voice was starting to rise, and Shouto knew he didn’t have a lot more time to enjoy his control. He ended up yanking the other one out with no grace or precision, ripping at his skin a little.

For a few euphoric minutes, he existed in what felt like between realms, the pain both surreal and grounding. He felt like he was floating, but was still under a lot of weight. Kind of like what he assumed drowning would feel like. He used to imagine the different ways he could die all the time. Somehow this felt better than what he’d pictured as a kid.

It ended once the sound of a door opening could be vaguely heard. It was followed by a loud gasp and thundering footsteps.

As the sensation began to die down, he noticed just how painful it really was. His arms ached, and his entire body screamed at him. Something warm was dripping down his right arm.

It occurred to him that one of the IVs—the one in his right arm—had been the blood transfusion, inserted into one of his veins. Along with all the scratching, he was probably losing a bit more blood than he’d intended. The other IV—in his left arm—had been the pain meds, administered slowly so that it was only a little at a time. Because there hadn’t been a constant stream for a couple minutes, the pain in his stomach due to the overdose was starting to kick in.

People were around him now, and he would’ve kicked them away if he had the strength. He wasn’t naive enough to think that this would be enough to die, but he wanted to entertain the fantasy while he could.

He was whining, he realized. Involuntarily, of course, but still whining nonetheless. He felt a warm hand settle gently on his head, and gasped lightly at the soft touch. It felt almost like the softest touch in the world.

“I’m here, kid.”

Hawks? That was certainly a surprise. Shouto wouldn’t have guessed the pro hero’s hand could be so gentle, voice so soft. Shouto found that he couldn’t open his eyes to clarify for himself that he wasn’t dreaming.

“Hang on, okay? Whatever’s going through your head, we’ll figure it out.”

Shouto hummed, body relaxing just slightly.

“That’s it. I’m here, kiddo. Right here.”

Aizawa had never glared harder in his life. He almost thought he would burst a blood vessel in his forehead at this point.

Todoroki had pulled out both IVs, seemingly on purpose. Although it would appear it was mostly due to tearing at his wounds. If it was an attempt at self-harm again, Aizawa could guess why he was feeling out of control.

Aizawa had erased Endeavor’s Quirk the second he’d arrived. Without it, he was just an adult throwing a child’s tantrum. It had quickly diffused the worst of the situation, as no one was going to be intimidated by his hero status when he wasn’t surrounded by his flames. It became evident that Endeavor was no longer in control of the conversation.

As the one who now controlled whether or not Endeavor had access to his Quirk, Aizawa was the center of control. The hospital staff seemed extremely relieved at that.

“Eraserhead,” Endeavor growled, still trying to assume an authoritative position. “I would like to know why I can’t see Shouto.”

“He asked us to keep you out.” Aizawa stated blandly, enjoying the way Endeavor’s face morphed into one of both shock and anger. “He doesn’t want to see you.”

“But I’m his father.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before doing something to make him not want to let you anywhere near him.”

Aizawa made sure to sharpen his glare. He wanted Endeavor to know exactly what the rest of them had heard from Todoroki.

And judging by the next face he made, he got the hint.

Aizawa tried not to let his satisfaction show on his face as Endeavor’s eyes roamed just slightly over the group of people refusing to look at him, apprehension clear; he obviously did not like even the notion that others knew about everything he’s done to his family.

Aizawa didn’t wait around to see what Endeavor would do. Instead, he marched past and made his way down the hallway. He wanted an update from Hawks about Todoroki. Last he’d been told, Hawks had been ushered out of the room so the hospital staff could work.

Hawks was slumped in his chair, furiously typing away at his phone. He had seemed rather attached to it lately.

“Report?”

Hawks nearly jumped out of his chair at the sound of Aizawa’s voice, clutching his chest and chuckling breathily as he finally saw Aizawa.

“Snuck up on me.”

Aizawa crossed his arms. “Didn’t think the number two hero would be so jumpy.”

“Hey, I am not jumpy!” Hawks pursed his lips, pocketing his phone. “You came out of nowhere. I wasn’t ready.”

“Sounds like jumpy to me.” Aizawa muttered, taking a seat next to Hawks. “So, report?”

“Doctor came out a few minutes ago.” He said, gesturing to the door. “Said the kid was going to be alright from that. Just gave us all a good scare.”

Aizawa sighed, massaging his brow. Todoroki sure had been giving them scares left and right these days. Not that he could exactly blame his student: it has been rough on all of them, but especially for him.

“Is he awake?”

Hawks shook his head. “Passed out halfway through. He’s been in and out since, but not long enough to note. Doctor says he’s not lucid enough when he is awake, so we’re going to have to wait this out.”

Aizawa nodded, though he wasn’t pleased. He thought about getting a restraining order on Endeavor for the time being, or getting him banned from entering the hospital entirely, but he was sure Endeavor would find a way to twist any more action against him to backfire. If they didn’t let Endeavor have certain freedoms, he’d use that to make himself look like a victim when it counted later.

He steadfastly refused to let Todoroki go back to his old home; not with Endeavor. So if it would make a difference in the long run, Aizawa would suffer through this time when he could do nothing.

Rei sat stock still on her bed.

Enji hadn’t ever paid her a visit, hadn’t wanted to now that he had gotten what he had wanted out of her: a perfect child with a perfect Quirk.

She had never expected him to show up to her hospital room, demand that she stay quiet and sit on her bed with no complaints.

She couldn’t move, her entire body as rigid as ice. If she wasn’t made to take daily Quirk suppressant pills by the hospital staff to make sure she wasn’t a danger to herself or others, she might’ve accidentally activated her Quirk by now.

“I come to you in a dire circumstance.”

Enji’s voice was low as always; he had never needed to raise his voice, as there had never been a dissenting voice to challenge him in their household. His words were absolute, cold and harsh. Ironically, his anger was more ice than fire.

“Shouto is in the hospital.” Enji’s voice did not relent, did not soften. Sharp and cold as ever. “He is dying.”

Rei felt herself freeze, but in a different way than before. Her little Shouto, dying? How? Why?

It couldn’t be… she had already lost Touya—hadn’t even been there for him; she’d been banished from her family—and now she was losing her precious Shouto?

“H-how-” She tried her best to force out any words, any at all, but in the face of her husband she could not.

She began to tremble with fear; fear that she could not ask after the health of her baby, fear that Enji would fly off the handle now that his masterpiece was in danger, fear that he had come to visit her because he needed her to create another masterpiece-

“It was you.”

Huh? Rei lifted her head, just enough to see Enji’s eyes, but not enough to look into them. He seemed angry, but also… withdrawn?

“He did it himself.” Enji continued, giving Rei no time to process any of what he was trying to say. “Cuts and pills. Even tried to jump.”

If Rei hadn’t been speechless before, then she certainly would be now. The tears that had been building in her eyes since Enji had first announced his arrival now began to swell and fall down her face. Her throat began to ache with sobs she was too scared to release as Enji continued to look at her.

No, please… go away…

Her baby… suicide? But- but why? He had been so lively the last time he’d visited her.

“It was you.” Enji said again, and this time Rei looked up at him fully. She wanted—had—to know if he was sincere.

“You made him dependent on you, and then crushed his spirit.” Enji’s eyes hardened, his glare deepening. “You never loved him and he knows it. You failed him, giving him false dreams only to tear him down. He hasn’t smiled since you scarred him.”

Rei choked on another sob, this time too distraught to swallow it down. No, surely not… Shouto had smiled at her when she had seen him last…

Or had he? Had it been a wince, now that she thought about it?

No. She couldn’t listen. She couldn’t go down this path…

“You made him hate himself by calling him unbearable. You made him suffer.”

“N-no, I-” Another sob cut her off, causing her to choke on her words. “I- didn’t!”

“You did.” Enji stood, towering over her once again with that all-consuming shadow. “He killed himself because of you.”

Shouto… Shouto is dead then? She had lost Shouto just like Touya…

Shouto had killed himself… because of her. It was her fault; she wasn’t there. Just like she hadn’t been there for Touya when he’d needed her either.

Another son’s death… and it was her fault.

She hadn’t noticed when Enji had left the room, nor when a nurse had barged in. The nurse was trying to pry Rei’s hands from their death-grip on her hair, pulling and scratching and doing anything to bleed for Shouto, for Touya.

Her babies… she had failed them again. Would Natsuo be next? Fuyumi? She couldn’t bear the thought.

She kicked and screamed and thrashed as she was strapped down to her bed. She wailed as they tried to talk to her. She cried as it all sank deeper than she had ever allowed.

Shouto is dead. Because of me. He killed himself.

She couldn’t handle it. Not him. Not one of her precious babies. Please. Please!

Not Shouto…

“That bastard!”

Hawks watched in shock as Natsuo shot up from his chair. He had arrived half an hour ago, once his classes had let out. He’d seemed worried ever since he’d gotten there, asking for more details that they hadn’t shared over the phone about what exactly Shouto had done.

“Natsuo?”

Fuyumi was also there, having arrived a few minutes ago.

“What’s wrong?”

“Mom’s hospital called.”

At this, Fuyumi immediately tensed up. “And?”

“Endeavor visited her.” Natsuo bit out, scowling. “He told her about Shouto.”

Fuyumi gasped, standing up as well to face Natsuo.

“What did the hospital say?”

“She’s in hysterics.” Natsuo growled, putting his hand over the receiver of his phone to mute his voice. He leaned closer to Fuyumi. “She thinks he’s dead. Clearly Endeavor is not trustworthy when passing on information. And she thinks it’s her fault; I wouldn’t be surprised if Endeavor was responsible for that too.”

Fuyumi sighed, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I guess we failed the one instruction Shouto gave us.”

“No,” Natsuo placed his hand on her shoulder, his expression reassuring but his eyes still burning with anger. “We didn’t tell her, Endeavor did. That man is responsible for his own actions, and right now he’s acting like a petulant child.”

Fuyumi smiled, patting Natsuo’s hand with her own before turning to Hawks and Aizawa, who both stood up to face her at eye level.

“We’ll probably have to leave to go see our mother.” She smiled sheepishly, Natsuo walking away to continue his call with the other hospital. “I don’t know if they’re going to want anyone visiting her, but we have to console her about this. I mean, Shouto isn’t dead, and it’s nowhere near her fault.”

“Of course,” Aizawa nodded. “You both can go attend to her once ready. We’ll tell Todoroki-”

“Could you please,” she laughed awkwardly, clearly embarrassed at having interrupted Aizawa, though he didn’t appear to be upset at all. “Uh, don’t tell Shouto why we’ve left? Just make something up; we don’t want him to worry about Mom. It’ll just make things harder on him than they have to be.”

Aizawa nodded, looking to Hawks.

“You can count on us.” Hawks gave her an ok sign with his fingers. “Just leave it to the pros.”

She smiled, shaking her head before looking off to where Natsuo had run off to.

“I’d better go see what the hospital is saying.” She turned back to the pros and gave a slight bow to them. “Thank you for everything that you’re doing, especially for Shouto. We really appreciate it.”

“It’s no trouble.”

She stood up and turned on her heel to follow after her brother. The second she was out of range, Aizawa punched the wall with force.

Hawks jumped away, at first startled by Aizawa’s action.

“What was that about?” He asked, watching warily as Aizawa lowered his fist. “Did the wall offend you or something?”

“I’m going to kill Endeavor.”

Hawks blinked as realization dawned on him.

“Pissed at Endeavor, huh?”

“He probably went and tormented his wife just to upset her and worry the whole family.” Aizawa sneered, sitting back down in his chair. Hawks remained standing, a good few feet from him. “It was almost definitely meant to be a power move to remind his family that he’s still in power over them. I’ve seen it all the time in abuse cases.”

It hurt Hawks’ heart to have his once-favorite hero be related to an abuse case, but at this point what else was it? If not abuse, then was there even a correct term for it?

He sighed, finally sitting back down in his chair. It was astonishing how one conversation could drain him of his energy.

It was also astonishing exactly how worried he could be for one kid. One kid who was already getting help, already recovering, still alive.

But a part of Hawks knew that this ordeal was far from over. It wouldn’t be over until Todoroki was out of Endeavor’s care, trusted to someone else, and Endeavor was prosecuted for his crimes.

Frankly, Hawks was worried. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep well at night until all of those came to pass. But he would gladly take it onto his shoulders.

The thought that lingered in the back of his mind—one which he refused to address at the moment—was that the world very well could be on its way to losing yet another number one hero, and it would be up to Hawks to fill that position.

He didn’t think he could be a symbol for anyone, bringing comfort and glee with the mere words of I am here!

He could barely be there for the people who needed him already. He could barely offer anything to the little Todoroki as he sat in the hallway outside of his hospital room.

Nonetheless, he was here. Not with a huge presence, or an unwavering smile, but he was here. For Todoroki. For a kid who was hurting, and who needed a little support from the people who were willing to give it to him.

He was here, for someone in need; someone who desperately needed to smile again.

“Sorry.”

It was the first word out of Shouto’s mouth once the pros came in. He couldn’t have stopped it from coming out if he wanted to. For some reason, he was inexplicably, unconditionally sorry. For what, he didn’t even know.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Todoroki.” Aizawa said, not bothering to take a seat as he stood a few feet from Shouto’s bedside. So, they weren’t staying long then? “From what the doctors said yesterday, it sounds like pulling out both IVs was an accident.”

Shouto frowned. “Well, partially.”

“Of course, we know it was an attempt at reopening your wounds.” Aizawa conceded, though his expression remained soft and reassuring. “But that’s nothing to get angry at you for. You’re hurting, and we know that. That’s why we’re trying to help you.”

Shouto hung his head. He didn’t deserve this treatment. Even though they were trying to help him, he showed his gratitude by ripping out his IVs and continuously going against their instructions. He was doing the exact opposite of assisting them in helping him get better.

“I just wanted to tell you that for now, you’ll be in Hawks’ care.” Aizawa said, giving said pro a side glance before he continued. “Until we can be sure that we can keep Endeavor out of UA, you’ll spend your time recovering in this hospital until you’re discharged, and Hawks will take you until you’re considered ready to go back to school.”

Hawks nodded along; they’d probably gone over this in the hallway. Still, Shouto was a bit apprehensive. After all, Hawks had worked closely with Endeavor before.

“I know you’ll be skeptical, as is your right.” Aizawa continued, taking a step closer so that he could more properly meet Shouto’s eyes. “But we’re worried that Endeavor has too much of a handle over your siblings to send you to be with them. And moving you back into the dorms before you’re ready doesn’t seem like a wise choice either, even if you’re not immediately put back into classes. After all, you’d be surrounded by your worried classmates, and they’d probably end up trying to bother you.”

Classmates. A sharp electric shock shot up Shouto’s spine at that word. He’d hardly given them any thought since he’d been hospitalized.

God, what did they think of all of this?

Shouto would’ve buried his face in his hands if it didn’t hurt so much to lift them, especially now after having ripped out the IVs.

“There’s one more option if you don’t want to stay with Hawks.”

Shouto was exceptionally grateful that Aizawa had cut off that train of thought before it could spiral; he needed a break from his own head.

“But I didn’t think you’d want to hear it.” Aizawa frowned, expression growing just a bit more cautious. “If you were taken under Hawks’ care, you’d still have to regularly see a therapist. If you were to refuse, the hospital staff instructed me to tell you that their next course of action would be a mental hospital until you were rehabilitated.”

So much for not spiraling.

Shouto shook his head as violently as he possibly could. No, he wouldn’t allow it! He would not end up in one of those places! Not like-

Not like her…

Shouto hadn’t even noticed Aizawa’s hands on his shoulders, steadying his vicious movements, until he squeezed. Shouto looked up to him, at least momentarily snapped out of his tirade of panic.

“It’s entirely up to you.” Aizawa reassured him, removing his hands from Shouto and taking a step back to allow him space to breathe. “I don’t want to back you into a corner with only two options to choose between, but right now they’re the only options available. We didn’t think it would be a good idea for any of your teachers to take you in because then it may seem that UA is conspiring against Endeavor, which could screw up our case. As someone involved, who is also fully capable of keeping you out of trouble, Hawks is the best logical choice.”

Shouto glanced over at Hawks, wanting to see what he thought of all of this. But, frustratingly, Shouto could not get a read on the number two hero. His smile was the same as always, and he didn’t seem to hate the idea. But he worried that Hawks was just doing this out of obligation, and Shouto didn’t want to be a burden that Hawks didn’t want.

“Relax, kid.” Hawks waved his hand nonchalantly. “I know you’re probably worried about where I stand on the whole arrangement, but I’ll be happy to help any way that I can.”

He seemed genuine enough with his words, but Shouto still couldn’t help but second guess the whole thing. Still, he agreed to stay with Hawks over the… other, less favorable option.

As soon as the two pros left, Shouto found himself melting back into his bed. The thought of leaving the hospital almost sickened him. This room felt like the only place where Endeavor couldn’t reach him. By law, he wasn’t allowed in. There was nothing like that keeping him out of anywhere else. As number one pro hero, he could basically go anywhere as long as he could justify himself later.

And if the number two hero had been keeping his son from him, who in their right mind would tell Endeavor off for doing whatever was in his power to get his son back? This could just end up getting Hawks in trouble.

But he couldn’t stay in the hospital forever, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to put him away in one of those psychiatric prisons. If Hawks was the best he had, he would make the most of it.

He would have to.

It’s not that Aizawa didn’t trust Hawks to look after one of his students.

No, it was more like he didn’t trust that Hawks wouldn’t be working with Endeavor soon and perhaps let something slip.

Aizawa knew he should give the number two hero some credit—he was where he was in the hero rankings for a reason—but Hawks had the tendency to overshare. He used flowery words and long anecdotes as a defense mechanism whenever someone made him nervous or fidgety. And being in such a compromising situation as secretly housing the number one hero’s kid, Aizawa figured it was reasonable to expect that anyone would get anxious, especially when working in close proximity to the kid’s father.

But he couldn’t exactly tell Hawks to avoid working with Endeavor for the time being. That would be extremely suspicious, given how ecstatic Hawks usually is when given the opportunity to work with Endeavor. It would practically be a dead giveaway if Hawks suddenly began to avoid his idol like the plague.

So they had told Hawks to try to behave as normally as possible. Whether or not he could pull it off was another question. But Aizawa chose to have faith that Hawks could do this. Otherwise, he might start getting overly anxious himself, and that would be the least rational response to have to this situation right now.

They proceeded as normal, Aizawa returning to UA as soon as Todoroki was released from the hospital late Friday night. They did it in the dead of night, so that they could escape any media who might have been camped outside the hospital during the day, and to avoid Endeavor, in case he decided to try to intervene.

Todoroki had been out the entire day before after his emergency operation, so he had been fine staying up to maximize efficiency. Of course, Aizawa still felt guilty that they’d had to ask something else of him on top of everything he already had to deal with.

Aizawa had gone right to bed as soon as he was certain that Todoroki would be fine. He had wanted to stay with him and Hawks longer, but was completely wiped out from the ordeal, as well as teaching that Friday morning—he hadn’t wanted to tip off to any students that Todoroki was still hurting exorbitantly, so he’d gone back Thursday after it had been deemed that Todoroki was not lucid enough for conversation.

He woke up late on Saturday, which was unlike him. Sure, he liked to sleep, but usually couldn’t get a full night’s sleep. Being a pro, he was used to having to be woken up at any time to be on call for other heroes or UA’s faculty, so any sound could wake him up. Hizashi must’ve been pretty careful when getting up this morning.

He checked in on his class at lunch, just to make sure no one was doing anything crazy. Apparently, most of them had decided to stay for the weekend. Aizawa had a pretty good idea why; he figured they all just wanted to be here for any immediate updates on Todoroki, and to provide support to each other as they waited.

He frowned upon hearing that Midoriya and Bakugou were called to their work study, which meant they’d be serving beside Endeavor.

Please, problem children. Don’t do anything stupid. Just this once.

But that plea was probably too much to ask of them. He just settled for hoping that they didn’t do anything too stupid, that would perhaps get them into trouble.

He had been sure that Tokoyami would have been absent, as Hawks had told Aizawa in the waiting room that he’d scheduled to borrow him for his work study. However, upon checking in with Hawks this morning he had been told that he’d canceled, so that he could help Todoroki settle in for the day.

It seemed that Uraraka and Asui were also gone for their work studies, which made Aizawa frown. Those two were good at crowd management and calming down their classmates. If their abilities were needed at any time, it would be now, as everyone in Class 1A seemed to be fidgeting with the same anxious energy.

Aizawa had already been asked five different times how Todoroki was doing, and he was happy to say that he was doing better, according to Hawks. His students all seemed to be relieved when Aizawa had told them that Todoroki was now officially discharged from the hospital, and was housed somewhere Endeavor couldn’t reach him for the time being.

Yaoyorozu had suggested that they all make Todoroki a gift basket as a sign that they’re thinking about him, and wish his recovery to be swift and easy. Aizawa would’ve stopped them, as he wasn’t sure how Todoroki would receive any sort of gift, but upon seeing their faces of glee, he couldn’t bring himself to shut them down.

Tamaki popped into his head just then, reminding him of how Todoroki had seemed to smile just the slightest bit at the little gifts he had brought. The thought made Aizawa relax, thinking that perhaps Todoroki would enjoy something his class put effort into making him.

Aizawa had agreed to bring the basket to him tonight, so that the fresh cheese Aoyama wanted to cut wouldn’t go bad, and so the others currently out on their work studies could participate as well.

Aizawa watched them work, conceding to giving his students advice about what they were putting in. They all seemed self-conscious about what to give to Todoroki, and just wanted someone to put their minds at ease.

Uraraka and Asui had returned from their work studies a couple hours after lunch. Just before dinner was scheduled to start being made, Bakugou and Midoriya returned, both of them scraped up. Nonetheless, Midoriya had seemed freshly energized at the prospect of the gift basket, and scarfed down his meal quickly to be able to formulate his own idea of what to give him.

Aizawa tried to keep his face as straight as possible as Bakugou kept loudly shouting about what a stupid idea it was, but still put something in for Todoroki.

He was glad that he could rely on his class to do everything in their power to make Todoroki feel better. It couldn’t have been easy on them to constantly be denied the ability to see Todoroki, but they were keeping their upbeat attitudes and their smiles as they finished wrapping the basket and handing it off to Aizawa.

Yaoyorozu stepped forward, her hands folded in front of her in a pleading gesture.

“Will you tell us what he thinks?”

Aizawa nodded, tucking the basket under his arm as he opened the door to the dorm building.

“I’ll make sure to let him know that you’re all thinking about him. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

He heard several sighs of relief, and caught a couple shoulders slumping out of the corner of his eye. It would seem his class was wound as tightly as he was.

He went ahead and texted Hizashi that he’d be borrowing his car as soon as he had strapped the basket in. He knew his husband wouldn’t mind, but he still wanted to make sure he let him know, in case he went looking for him or the car later.

“Now,” Aizawa sighed, dialing Hawks’ number as he began to steer the car out towards the exit. “I hope they’re both still alive.”

Midoriya only felt himself relax after he watched Mr. Aizawa’s—technically Present Mic’s—car drive away from his balcony.

He had been worried about his teacher possibly being followed by someone working for Endeavor, no matter how ridiculous the thought was. He refused to put it past the number one hero, especially after how he had been behaving during the work study today.

Midoriya knew Endeavor wasn’t stupid; he could probably figure out that Todoroki’s class knew everything that was going on right now. That had probably been the reason why Endeavor was acting so stiff, on edge. He was probably concerned that either Midoriya or Kacchan would try something, considering they were both really close to Todoroki.

Still, Kacchan had actually been the one to approach Midoriya and demand that they discuss what actions to take regarding Endeavor. And though neither of them were particularly happy about it, they both agreed that it would be too risky and foolish to try anything against him by themselves. They knew that the pros working on the case were trying to build up solid evidence, and they didn’t want to screw that up by attacking Endeavor and painting him as a victim.

Midoriya was proud of Kacchan for being able to not blow the man’s face off, and was evermore impressed with his own ability to restrain himself, when all he had been able to think about when out on patrol was how nice it would feel to One for All shoot-style kick Endeavor right in the face.

Midoriya hoped that Todoroki liked what they had all sent him. He’d tried to write a really rushed letter to make Todoroki feel better, but he didn’t know how well it had turned out in the end.

Oh, I hope he doesn’t read it!

But of course he will, because Todoroki is kind, and respectful. Midoriya knew this. If someone sent him a letter, no matter how horrible, he would read it word for word.

It just made Midoriya angrier that someone so kind had been repeatedly treated so horribly, by his own father no less.

Midoriya really just needed to let off some steam. He thought about going for a run, but UA’s curfew was strict, especially now. Instead he decided that he should go hit something in the school’s gym.

And what better thing to hit than Kacchan? Surely he’d be just as upset, though he’d never admit it. Kacchan loved letting off steam by beating the living daylights out of people, especially if that someone is Midoriya.

Of course, they’d had to ask a teacher to supervise their training session, and since Aizawa was gone, they’d both had to wait for half an hour until a teacher had finished up their work to go watch them.

No words had been exchanged between them the whole time they were waiting out in the hallway, but it was no longer a charged, uncomfortable silence like it always used to be.

Thank All Might that Kacchan and I made up. Midoriya let out a silent sigh of relief. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have someone to train with. And Kacchan would still absolutely hate me. I’d never trust him to train with.

Finally, Vlad King said that he could supervise their training session, but a couple of his students were going to tag along.

Fine by me. So long as I can get my mind off of everything.

And the next thing Midoriya knew, he and Kacchan were sparring like their lives depended on it.

Midoriya tried to keep from imagining Kacchan as Endeavor—that most certainly wouldn’t be getting his mind off of it, and it would only really be an insult to Kacchan. Besides, he didn’t want to combat violence with more violence. Endeavor should be brought to justice the right way. The legal way.

Even though every fiber in Midoriya’s body was telling him that now is a great time to visualize Endeavor right as he landed a solid kick to Kacchan’s side, luckily only using eight percent of One for All.

He landed on the ground, a little unsteady as sweat ran down his face. He was exhausted from the last hour of training, but couldn’t make himself stop. He needed more. He needed to-

“Oi!”

Midoriya’s head snapped up, fixating on Vlad King, sitting beside Monoma and Tetsutetsu, all three looking a bit nervous.

“How about you boys take to the showers, hm?” Vlad chuckled, though it seemed a bit forced. “Before both of you end up killing each other.”

Midoriya glanced over at Kacchan, who was glaring at them, but he was heaving as well, wiping sweat away from his brow every other breath.

Maybe it was time to take a break. This could very well be continued on Monday in hero training.

Midoriya nodded, knowing that Kacchan had come to the same conclusion. Midoriya grabbed his towel and water bottle, marching past the others to hustle back and take a shower. Now that he wasn’t moving, he felt exactly how sticky and gross he truly was.

Vlad and his students shied just a little bit away from him and Kacchan as they both walked past, watching them with skepticism.

Midoriya wanted to assure them that there was nothing to fear; this was just training after all. They didn’t actually want to hurt anyone.

But Midoriya was no liar. He didn’t want to hurt Kacchan, but he was still fuming with anger. Even though his muscles were sore and his body was exhausted, he still wasn’t sure he’d gotten rid of all of his extra energy.

Well, maybe he could just sleep it off. He had canceled his visit with his mom this weekend because of his work study scheduled this morning, so he could sleep in as long as he wanted without having to worry.

Well, he didn’t have to worry about keeping his mom waiting. But there were plenty of other things to worry about.

Things that Midoriya just could not stop thinking about, no matter how hard he tried, how much he fought, how fast he moved.

He wanted to be there for Todoroki. Writing a letter wasn’t the same as being able to wrap his arms around his friend and hold him. Above all, he figured that Todoroki just wanted someone to be there for him.

I am here. Midoriya wanted to be able to tell him, I am here for you.

Hawks felt like he was walking on eggshells around Todoroki.

The kid hadn’t said anything since he’d arrived. His expression hadn’t changed, he hadn’t given away anything that he might be thinking. Hawks couldn’t get a read on him at all.

Hawks had never had a kid before. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Should they eat meals together at a table? Or would Todoroki prefer to eat alone? He wanted to give the kid privacy, but he couldn’t afford to just leave him alone without anyone watching his actions.

Hawks had a couple trusted agents from his agency who would stay here with the kid when he needed to go out on hero business, and a therapist would be visiting every day. Hawks had been asked to basically make himself scarce whenever the therapist was there. Hawks didn’t need to worry about having to watch the kid at all times.

Still, he was fidgety. Mostly regarding the whole situation outside of just Todoroki’s own actions. Would Endeavor think to check here? Hawks’ penthouse apartment had tall windows with no curtains, so would Endeavor be able to see through them if he floated up this far?

At least his apartment was big enough for two people. He had a guest room that’s been unused since he moved in. He’d been bored and had decorated it to be a resort-worthy room, certainly something Todoroki should be used to after growing up with Endeavor.

But still, was the kid comfortable? Hawks had been to Endeavor’s house before; it was all Japanese style, made out of wood. Would the modern setting make Todoroki uncomfortable? Would he hate it? Would the entire arrangement disorient him?

Hawks wished his brain would just shut up. After all, his biggest worry was one that would not text him back.

He had messaged the league as soon as he’d been asked to take on the assignment of being Todoroki’s caretaker until the whole ordeal was through. That way, the league would know to not make any unscheduled stops by his place.

And yes, that did happen.

It was never too often—the league of villains didn’t like to be predictable in that way—but occasionally Toga or Twice would come by, sometimes bringing another member with them. Most of the time Hawks didn’t mind; he lived alone, and never let anyone in without permission. The league always seemed to know when Hawks had people over—they were no doubt keeping tabs on him—and avoided making visits when there were others around.

But the league had been explicitly interested in Todoroki—Hawks guessed they had a soft spot for kids who hate heroes, even if that hero is just the kid’s father—and they had already made one reckless visit to see him in the hospital. Hawks didn’t want to take his chances and have a league member show up when the kid was here to see them and probably give Hawks away.

But every member of the league of villains seemed to decide that his message wasn’t worth responding to. He received no clarification that they would stay away. And while he was certain they wouldn’t make themselves known while members of Hawks’ agency or the therapist were here, he wasn’t certain that they wouldn’t deliberately check in on the kid.

And Aizawa would be here in less than an hour, apparently bringing a gift basket from the kid’s class or something.

“Please, don’t do anything stupid.”

He tossed his phone on his bed and walked out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Todoroki seemed to have a wandering problem. He didn’t open any doors that were shut, but he seemed to be curious in his own way.

Hawks found the kid curled up in a blanket in front of the TV screen, though he hadn’t put anything on. The screen was all fuzzy and painful to look at, but Todoroki seemed to have zoned out a long time ago.

Hawks went over and picked up the remote, turning the TV off to get the static off of the screen.

“Don’t hurt your eyes, kid.” He smiled at Todoroki, who blinked as if he hadn’t realized he’d zoned out.

Hawks set the remote down next to Todoroki as he went to check on dinner. He’d called and asked Aizawa what the kid generally liked to eat, and had somehow ended up learning how to make cold soba. Aizawa had made sure that Hawks knew that Todoroki liked his soba in varying degrees of cold depending on his mood. The more upset he was, the colder he preferred his soba to be. Probably because it would be the farthest thing from Endeavor, and Hawks really didn’t want the kid to have to be reminded of him right now, so he’d stuck the soba in the fridge so it could get extra cold.

He grabbed it from the fridge and dished it out into a bowl, making sure to grab the right sauce and a pair of chopsticks as he left the kitchen.

Todoroki saw him coming before he’d even made it six feet away from him. The kid eyed him warily, watching his every step as he came closer before he handed him his meal.

“I know you might not be very hungry,” Hawks shrugged, holding out the chopsticks for him to take next. “But you should eat. I hope I made it right. At the very least, it shouldn’t make you gag.”

Todoroki didn’t laugh—Hawks hadn’t expected him to—but he did concede to taking the chopsticks and breaking them apart.

Hawks smiled, grabbing the remote again and turning the TV on, pressing a random button to give Todoroki something to do while he ate.

“-Pro Hero Endeavor won’t divulge the details of his son’s hospitalization. All we know is that they have revoked his access to the room and are refusing to let him see-”

Hawks immediately turned the screen off again, smiling sheepishly at Todoroki, who just looked up at him blankly.

“Well, that immediately backfired.” Hawks chuckled nervously. “Uh, is there any channel you usually like to watch?”

Todoroki shook his head. “He didn’t ever let me watch anything.”

Hawks ignored the needle that went through his heart at that statement, instead turning the TV back on and quickly switching to a channel he’d heard played good movies for kids.

“You ever watch this? Ah, I’m sure it’s good.” Hawks tossed the remote down onto the couch again, waving off the questioning look in Todoroki’s eyes as his ear caught on the sound of his phone going off in his bedroom. “You enjoy that, and I’ll be right back!”

He dashed back to his room, just barely catching the call before it went to voicemail.

“It’s Aizawa. I’m down in the lobby. Could you buzz me up?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course!” Hawks chuckled. “Right away. See you in a minute!”

He hung up the call and left his room again, heading over to the door to his apartment so that he could let Aizawa up. Hopefully, with his teacher here, Todoroki would be a little less inclined to stare directly at Hawks every time he so much as entered the room.

Shouto was glad that Aizawa had come. He had nothing against Hawks, but he was almost certain the man had never met a kid in his life. Either Hawks must not be very good at telling ages, or Shouto was more out of the loop than he thought; he would never have considered watching an animated movie that was centered around relentless optimism and beating the not-even-that-bad guy with the power of friendship.

The soba was good though. And extremely cold. And that was always a start.

Aizawa had explained that he couldn’t stay long, he and Hawks whispering in hushed tones in the corner as Shouto went through the gift basket he’d been brought.

He could tell most of who had given him what: the cheese was definitely Aoyama; the obscene magazine was most definitely Mineta; the stack of books could’ve either been Iida or Yaoyorozu; the chibi All Might keychain was almost certainly Midoriya, though his came with a letter attached.

Hey, Todoroki-kun! I hope you’re feeling better, and I’m glad that you were let out of the hospital! I know that we don’t know where you are, which is probably a good thing, but I want to let you know that no matter where you are, I am here for you Todoroki. I’ll always be here for you, whenever you need me.

I know that you’re struggling, and I can’t begin to understand everything that’s going on, but I hope you find that I can be someone you trust! And I’m here to save you, should you need me to. All of our class is, in fact.

Please, take all the time you need to recover. I know you, and I know that you like to say that you’re fine even when you’re not. If your head is telling you that, then maybe listen to your body or heart or something. Wow, this got really cheesy really fast! Aoyama would be jealous!

Still, we’ll be waiting for you when you come back! Get ready to receive lots of hugs and affection because I’m never letting you go unappreciated ever again!

-Midoriya (& Class 1A)

Shouto read over the words over and over again until he felt like his mind was going numb.

Thank you, Midoriya. You have no idea how much…

He blinked, his eyes feeling unmistakably… wet? No, that wasn’t right. Shouto hadn’t cried in a long time. He no longer cried during panic attacks, no longer cried from guilt at hurting himself, no longer cried when Endeavor beat him into a pulp.

He didn’t cry. Not from pain, not from words, not from anything.

And he wasn’t crying now. But his eyes seemed to think that they should, after so long…

No. Shouto harshly blinked the wetness away. The last time he had cried, he’d ended up swallowing a bunch of pills, slicing his skin open, and attempting to jump off of a roof. That kind of weakness could not happen again, nor would any like it. Weakness could not befall Shouto. Not now.

Still, he made sure the letter didn’t wrinkle even slightly as he laid it on top of the rest of what was in the basket. He took a few calming breaths to steady himself from what could have very well been a disaster. He continued to focus on his breathing until he was sure that no tears would form, that no panic would spike and cause him to spiral. He kept focus on the conversation across the room, just to make sure they weren’t watching him calm himself down.

Shouto finished the last of his soba in peace, accepting a few final words of encouragement from Aizawa before he left to return to UA.

Oh, how Shouto wished he could just erase all of the past week and pretend like none of it had happened. To wake up and have it be just a normal day for his class at UA, whether that be a villain attack or boring lecture. He’d take anything over how isolated he was now.

Hell, he’d go back to Endeavor if it meant he could pretend like everything was back to the way it was. He had been so foolish then, to try something so reckless and stupid. Honestly, did these people think they stood a chance at winning a case over Endeavor?

Shouto wanted to have faith in them, allow himself to believe that they could pull it off. But Shouto didn’t want to get hurt again when it inevitably failed.

The last time someone had rebelled against Endeavor, it had been his older brother, who had thoroughly suffered for that—died, even. And before that, it had been her… who was then beaten every day to the point of insanity, and shipped away like a problem he couldn’t be bothered to solve.

Shouto didn’t want to end up like either of them. Back then, he had been foolish, and had tried to create his own escape route. And in seeking to be like his older brother—dying by his own hand—he had instead become like her—isolated and deemed mentally incapable of being alone.

If either option was the worst-case scenario—the stuff of his nightmares—then how could Shouto ever hope to win?

Chapter Text

Aizawa had been happy to tell his class that Todoroki had seemed to thoroughly enjoy the gift basket they had all pitched in to make for him. Still, it pained him to see the looks on their faces when he had to tell them that Todoroki would not be coming back for now.

Some of them asked if they could visit him, but again Aizawa had to shoot them down. The fewer people who knew Todoroki’s location, the better. Only a select few people—Aizawa, Nezu, Hawks, All Might, and a couple detectives—knew his current whereabouts. It was better to keep it that way, at least for now.

After having to inform Aoyama that no, he hadn’t seen Todoroki eat any of the cheese, and Midoriya that yes, he had seen Todoroki read his letter, he was forced to shut the conversation down lest everyone else ask for the specifics on what Todoroki had thought of what they had put in the basket.

Sunday passed by without a hitch, mostly. Tsukauchi had contacted All Might to let him know that the remaining Todoroki siblings had called to inform him of Endeavor’s pressure for them to tell him Shouto’s location. As cruel as it had seemed at the time, Aizawa was glad that they had not told Fuyumi or Natsuo where their little brother was being kept. He was worried that Endeavor would have too much power over their lives for them to be able to keep it from him for long.

On a good note, they had also mentioned that their mother was doing better. They’d had to strap her down for a while, but once Fuyumi and Natsuo had shown up they’d been able to calm her down and tell her about Shouto.

For some reason—Endeavor, probably—Ms. Todoroki had thought that Shouto was already dead, which was the big reason behind her hysterics. When it became clear to her that Shouto was still alive, she had calmed down. They were in the process of trying to convince her that it wasn’t her fault.

Shouto did not know that his mother had been brought into this. Fuyumi had expressly asked again that he not be told. She was rightly worried that Shouto would panic and worry about her. It would almost definitely make things harder on him than they have to be.

Still, Ms. Todoroki was asking to see him as soon as she could. It was almost impossible to refuse that request, since Endeavor’s hold on her was too powerful for her to know where he’s being kept. And it was too risky to bring Shouto to her hospital in case Endeavor was waiting for that to happen.

Besides, Endeavor clearly had people working for him in the hospital she’s kept at. Otherwise, it would have been hard to put her in there in the first place without revealing the truth of their family and her insanity’s origin. And it would’ve been hard for him to get back in and talk to her otherwise.

There was too much to worry about should that scenario play out. It was better to keep things as it was until the whole ordeal was over. However, that did mean that Shouto would only have access to a very limited number of people, most of whom he didn’t know or trust.

Once again, Aizawa was hit with the feeling of helplessness. He couldn’t exactly do anything for Shouto right now except continue to aid in his case. He wanted to be there for his student, but it just wasn’t possible with where they’re at in this whole mess.

Aizawa just had to put faith in what they were working with. Hawks could manage, and if he trusted a few of his agency members to look after Shouto when he had to be on duty, then Aizawa would trust his judgment. Other than that, no one else but a trusted therapist would know his location. If they were to give anything away to Endeavor, they’d be risking their license. No one in their right mind would think about betraying them in a situation like this.

Since most of Aizawa’s students had decided to stay in the dorms for the weekend, there was plenty to occupy his attention to keep him from drowning in all of his worries.

Things like Bakugou and Midoriya sparring in the yard at the asscrack of dawn.

He knew they were frustrated, and everyone had their own way of dealing with their emotions, but beating the shit out of each other this early on a Sunday was the wrong way to do it if Aizawa had anything to say about it.

He’d cut that off before it could escalate, as things with the two problem children always did. Though neither had seemed very happy about his intervention, neither said anything as they shuffled past him back into the common room. Now, a few hours later, they were seemingly behaving well, though that kind of behavior from them just put Aizawa on edge.

When they’re behaving, they’re probably scheming.

So he called All Might in to distract them, and left a message to Hizashi to see if he and Eri might want to pay the class a visit.

He was glad that his husband had shown up within ten minutes of sending that message. All Might was a miracle-worker for sure, but these days he wasn’t in much shape to be acting like his old self.

Most of his class busied themselves with fawning over Eri and the button-up sweater Aizawa and Hizashi had given her a few weeks prior—mostly to prepare for the cold weather. Aizawa made sure to keep an eye on Bakugou, who kept his distance from the rest of them in his I hate children facade.

The class banded together to arrange a movie marathon for Eri, who hadn’t yet been exposed to much screen time with her Quirk training taking up a lot of time. During the argument over which movie, Eri snuck over to Aizawa and Hizashi, who were supervising from one of the side couches.

“Mr. Aizawa,” he glanced up at Eri, who was standing in front of them both. “Why is everyone sad?”

Aizawa sighed, doing his best to give her a smile.

“One of their classmates is struggling. He’s not here right now.”

Eri pouted slightly, fiddling with one of the buttons on her coat. “Was he struggling like me?”

Aizawa spared a look at Hizashi, who shrugged back at him with a look of his own. Obviously, they couldn’t just say that Shouto had tried to kill himself. The two of them weren’t great at parenting anyone less than fifteen years old.

“Sort of,” Aizawa conceded, reaching forward to ruffle her hair the way he knew she liked. “His father hurt him and his family. He was just in the hospital, but he’s doing better now. We’re trying to remove him from his home.”

“What about his family?”

Aizawa smiled softly, patting her head before pulling his hand away. “The rest of them have all grown out of his care.”

His mind briefly skipped to Ms. Todoroki, who technically had gotten away from Endeavor, though she was still within his reach of power. Still, he chose not to say anything about that. He didn’t want to worry Eri, after all.

“Hey, Eri!”

The three of them looked over to where the rest of the class was standing, waving a movie in the air.

“How about the Grinch?”

“That’s a Christmas movie, Round-face!”

Aizawa patted Eri on the back to encourage her to join the other kids. Once by themselves again, Aizawa slumped back into the couch, Hizashi patting his leg.

“We’re gonna save him, right?” Hizashi’s voice was soft, almost inaudible. “Like Eri?”

Aizawa just nodded. He’d make sure they’d get Shouto away from Endeavor, even if it had to be just as much of a fight.

Hawks exhaled through his nose as he shut the door to his apartment. The therapist had messaged him to let him know that they’d left half an hour ago, so he had tried to wrap up his work as quickly as possible to get back before the kid was left alone for too long.

He felt bad for his odd behavior towards Mirko—the two of them usually liked to goof off a little after they finished their work. He’d made some hasty excuse and hurried off.

Was half an hour too long? Hawks didn’t see the kid anywhere, and no sounds came from the apartment.

He hurried over and knocked on the door to the guest room, waiting for an answer which did not come.

“Kid? You alright in there?”

He tried to keep the panic out of his tone, forcing his voice to remain light and breezy.

“Kid?”

There was still no response, so Hawks opened the door as slowly as he could in his panic, as he had been instructed to do. He was worried about what he would find inside the room, but soon felt the anxiety wash off of him once he spotted Todoroki wrapped up in the bed.

Hawks wasn’t worried after that. He could see the rise and fall of Todoroki’s chest, and nothing about his demeanor seemed off. There was no way he could’ve accessed anything to hurt himself with, as Hawks had made sure to clean out everything in his apartment. There were no pills—they were now at his office—and the cutlery was all in a locked cupboard that only Hawks could reach with his wings. He’d originally kept a safe in there for items he didn’t want stolen, but this had seemed like a pretty good arrangement as well.

Hawks carefully shut the door so as to not disturb Todoroki’s nap. The kid had been having a hard time sleeping ever since he was released from the hospital. He hadn’t said anything, but Hawks is a light sleeper, and his feathers are sensitive to tremors. At the sound of footsteps, even if they remain within Todoroki’s room, Hawks is awake in seconds. The first few times freaked him out, as he is used to living alone, but by now he’s become used to it.

Hawks did a routine sweep of the kitchen, just to make sure Todoroki hadn’t at least tried to get into anything worrisome, but he found it pristine. There wasn’t evidence of any use of his Quirk, or any tampering done to the locked cupboard. Hawks hoped that this was all a good sign.

As Hawks shuffled around tidying up his living room, he thought he saw a shadow past by the window. But considering how high up they were, he decided to think nothing of it. He was probably just paranoid with the whole situation.

He went back into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee—he needed it after the long day—though by the time he went back into the living room, there was someone else sitting on his couch

“Hey, Birdie.” Mirko crossed her arms, leaning back on his couch. “What have you been up to?”

“Mirko?” Hawks looked around, panicked to make sure that it was just her, and that Todoroki had not left his room. He found them alone.

“What are you doing here?”

“When did you become so jumpy, Hawks?” Mirko uncrossed her legs, leaning forward in a manspread that any other man could only dream of. “You’ve been acting very much unlike yourself today. Why?”

Hawks internally scolded himself. Of course Mirko had picked up on his behavior. He’d been acting really weird today. If he had been working with Endeavor today, that man might’ve even noticed, and he needed an emotional enema with how bad his people skills are.

“Wait,” Hawks pointed at her, trying to get his thoughts in order before he dared to answer any questions. “How did you get in here?”

“Up the building and took the rooftop staircase down here.” She shrugged, flicking a room key in between her fingers. “Also, I have a copy of your key.”

“But…” Hawks pursed his lips, looking from her to the kitchen. “It couldn’t have taken me that long to make one cup of coffee…”

Mirko snorted. “Don’t hurt yourself with all that thinking. It didn’t take me that long. Your apartment is almost at the top of the building, and you were taking your sweet time cleaning up the place.”

Hawks hummed, taking a sip of his almost-forgotten coffee as he strode over to sit in a chair beside the couch Mirko was sitting on.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on or what?”

Hawks gingerly took another sip of his coffee—which was no longer as hot as he would’ve liked it—as he debated how to choose his words.

“Well, there’s not much to tell.”

“Spare me the bullshit. You’re on the Endeavor case, aren’t you?”

Hawks stiffened, looking over at her. He expected her to look smug, but her face was as serious as ever.

“How did you-”

“Know about that?” Mirko shrugged. “It’s all over the news that some hospital wouldn’t let Endeavor see his kid. Rumors are spreading, but I know you were at UA the same day he was taken to the hospital. And you didn’t show up to work for several days. You’ve been all secretive, and whenever someone brought up Endeavor you’d go all quiet.” She smirked, mischief taking over her expression. “You’re never quiet. You’re loud as shit on the worst of days.”

Hawks scowled. He wasn’t that loud.

“Yes, you are.”

He scoffed indignantly, but ultimately said nothing to refute it; she could read him like a book.

“He’s here, isn’t he? The kid?”

Hawks met her eyes, trying to muster up his easy-going facade, but it crumpled once he saw the gravity in her eyes.

“You’re a pretty good liar normally. You only suck at it when you’re in an extremely compromising situation. Like housing Endeavor’s kid after his release from the hospital, for example.”

Hawks opened his mouth to insist that she was mistaken, but no words came out. He was at a loss.

Mirko only hummed, nodding. “Thought so.”

“Are you,” Hawks swallowed. He didn’t want to accuse Mirko of siding with Endeavor, but she didn’t know the whole story. She only knew what the press was reporting: that someone was keeping Endeavor away from his kid. “Are you going to tell anyone?”

Mirko raised an eyebrow at him, as if considering.

“Give me a reason I shouldn’t.” She shrugged, pulling her legs up onto the couch and crossing them. She gripped her ankles and leaned over as if this interaction was just a normal stretch break for them.

“Endeavor is the number one hero. His kid was injured enough to skip past Recovery Girl. For some reason, the number two hero is involved with keeping the kid away from his own father. You have to admit, without any details the situation is pretty questionable.”

Hawks sighed. He knew she was right. That was why he’d asked in the first place.

“The case is kind of confidential, so…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Mirko rolled her eyes, holding out her pinky finger in jest. “Keep it on the DL. Pinky promise and everything.”

Hawks rolled his eyes, but nonetheless settled in for a long conversation.

Shouto was awake.

He had been awake when Hawks had called to him, had been awake when the pro had checked in on him, had been awake for a long time.

Truthfully, Shouto had been hoping that he would be able to fall asleep after the session with the therapist. He had been a nice person, Dr. Eguchi, and Shouto had wanted to open up to him. But he didn’t feel like he could trust anyone. He had trusted Midoriya at the Sports Festival, and though Shouto no longer thought that he had intentionally sold him out to Aizawa, Shouto was still wary about telling him anything, lest Midoriya begin worrying and speak to someone. Shouto had trusted Aizawa, All Might and Hawks with his family secrets, and now he was being kept from home and school.

Why couldn’t they all just go back to pretending that nothing had happened? It would be easier for everybody. The whole situation would fade into a scar, just like the cuts on Shouto’s arms would scab over and heal into scars.

Why wouldn’t they just forget the story behind the scars? Save everyone all the trouble—Hawks, UA, Shouto even—because Endeavor would inevitably win the case anyway. Why couldn’t they all just go home?

Dr. Eguchi’s questions had all been what Shouto expected: how are you feeling? Do you need anything? How is everything at home?

The questions had been continuous and relentless, but they had been gentle enough that Shouto had no reason to blame the therapist for his frustration.

Ultimately, the session had gotten nowhere. Airing everything once to the pro heroes had been enough. He just wished someone would fill the therapist in on everything going on so Shouto didn’t have to. Couldn’t he just have the answer instead of having to respond to all these questions? Can’t they fix whatever is wrong with him already so that he could go back to being perfect like Endeavor wanted?

Except, maybe a small part of him didn’t want to be fixed. Maybe a small, small part of him just wanted to be loved for once. Maybe he didn't want to be what Endeavor wanted him to be.

He’d been left alone for a half hour; plenty of time to do something reckless or self-destructive. He’d thought about it plenty of times once Dr. Eguchi had left. But in the end he’d been too drained to move. He’d only barely managed to drag himself to his room so that he could be alone. He didn’t want to catch Hawks in the living room and be dragged into a conversation.

Sleep never came; neither did peace of mind. Though Shouto guessed it was a good thing, as he heard Hawks talking to someone in the other room. Hawks had promised that he would keep visitors out for Shouto’s sake, so it might’ve been Aizawa. Still, Shouto remained as if he was asleep.

He kept his eyes trained ahead at the wall, but he ran the pads of his fingers over one of the now-scabbing cuts, though he immediately flinched away as soon as he felt how rough it was. He shivered, pulling his hand away to pull the sleeve of Hawks’ hoodie down.

He was in Hawks’ clothes. It had been determined to be too risky to fetch any of his things from either Endeavor’s house or the UA dorms. Endeavor probably had ways of finding out if any of his stuff was taken from either location, and could use that as a way to track them and find Shouto. Sicko.

Not that Shouto minded much. Though Hawks was taller than he was, and had more muscle mass, their size difference wasn’t so drastic that wearing his clothes was uncomfortable for Shouto. In fact, he kind of liked it, despite the holes in the back of all of his tops. All of Hawks’ leisure clothes were extremely soft, and the fact that they were so big on Shouto provided some sense of safety and warmth.

Not to mention, everything that Shouto owned smelled like Endeavor. Whether it was the subtle cologne, or smoke from Endeavor’s fury filling up the whole house, every possession—even those that Shouto had taken with him to UA—all smelled distinctly like Endeavor. To the point where it was suffocating; even when Endeavor wasn’t physically present, he still took up every inch of space.

So yeah, it was nice to get away from Endeavor in every sense. Even if it meant wearing Hawks’ clothes instead of his own; sleeping in a foreign room instead of either that he owned.

He didn’t hate it, and maybe that would be his mistake. Maybe he should hate it, maybe everything about the situation should bother him, make him uncomfortable. Make him itch. But he couldn’t really bring himself to.

For the first time, Shouto felt like he could feel the tickle of Endeavor’s breath leave his neck; the weight of Endeavor’s presence lift just the slightest bit from his shoulders. Endeavor isn’t here. He doesn’t even know that Shouto is here. He has absolutely no idea where to look for him.

And yeah, the weight of the knowledge that Endeavor was currently looking for him loomed over him and held him down. But the understanding that Endeavor was a far way’s off from finding where he was made him feel like maybe that was okay. At least for now, Shouto didn’t have to worry about Endeavor.

Maybe he wouldn’t have to worry about Endeavor for a long time…

And though Shouto knew that was just wishful thinking, he made a silent promise to himself that he would pretend it was true, just for now, as he felt his eyelids finally drooping.

At first it had been odd to be back to working with Endeavor. He usually didn’t call his work study students in to work more than once a week, but Midoriya had been asked late Monday night to turn in a form to the school that they would be going out again early on Tuesday.

Midoriya wasn’t surprised that Kacchan was also there, looking both angry and tired.

Something that stuck out to Midoriya during the early moments of their patrol was whenever Endeavor made small talk. He had always been quiet, just like Todoroki, so it struck him as odd that the pro hero was now very chatty.

Of course, after being able to be alone with Kacchan for a few minutes had allowed them to discuss their suspicions. They both came to the conclusion that Endeavor was trying to pry into any knowledge that they might have about Todoroki. There didn’t seem to be another good explanation for the abrupt change in schedule or the weird behavior.

It made Midoriya’s blood boil, and he could tell that this conclusion grated on Kacchan’s already sensitive nerves as well.

Still, the awkward tension of the patrol didn’t last long, as Hawks finally joined them, half an hour after Endeavor had said he was supposed to be there.

“Where have you been?” Endeavor was glaring at his partner. Hawks merely shrugged, his face being clouded with some sort of look when he took in Midoriya and Kacchan’s presence, as if he hadn’t expected them to be there. “While you were gone, who knows how many people could’ve been caught in a disaster.”

“Relax, buddy.” Hawks smiled that easy going smile of his, though Midoriya couldn’t help but notice that it was slightly strained. He supposed that would make sense, since Hawks had been with Todoroki during his entire stay at the hospital. He had probably been a witness to some of Todoroki’s confessions.

“I would’ve been able to tell if there was an actual disaster. There’s no need to worry.”

Endeavor’s glare hardened. “Then why were you so late in the first place? If you could’ve come earlier if only the city was in danger.”

Hawks waved his hand nonchalantly. “Nah, nothing major. Just cleaning up my apartment a little, is all.”

Endeavor and Hawks had a weird stand-off, both of their gazes equally as challenging, before Endeavor broke away, marching off in the direction their patrol was taking them.

“Whatever. I received an anonymous tip that a few league members had been spotted in the south area of the city. We’ve taken on the task of checking out the lead.”

Hawks hummed, tapping his chin. “And Mirko? She told me yesterday that she got a similar tip and was going to be working that case.”

“Mirko will be meeting us there.”

Midoriya was growing increasingly uncomfortable by this whole arrangement. Another unscheduled pro hero—Endeavor hadn’t really given them much of a warning about inviting Hawks on this mission—with a pretty vague mission and even more vague schedule for their work study.

The whole thing had him feeling unsettled.

And it turned out that his gut feeling had been right, as the next thing he knew he was slamming into a wall of fire.

Blue fire.

He landed on his back after being tossed back a few yards away, blacking out for a moment as his head hit the concrete. He managed to get his eyes back open pretty quickly, though he’d had to wait a couple more moments until the ringing in his ears subsided.

“Why are the kids here?” Someone shouted, though Midoriya didn’t exactly recognize the voice. He could vaguely recall…

“I didn’t think Endeavor would be so careless or cruel to include kids on a mission to stop some league members! I guess I gave you too much credit, huh Enji?”

That voice… Midoriya picked his head off the ground, rolling onto his side so that he could push himself up into a sitting position. His vision came into a rather hazy focus on Endeavor and, most significantly, Dabi from the league of villains.

Oh, that’s just great.

A few meters away, Kacchan was getting to his feet, prompting Midoriya to do the same. Though the rest of his body didn’t agree with the actions of his legs, he managed to stand up.

“What do you want, villain?”

“Isn’t it obvious?!”

Man, that voice was nearly unhinged, angrier than Kacchan and yet colder than Todoroki. The villain wore a deranged smile to match.

“I just want justice! For karma to bite you so far in the ass you’ll be shitting teeth for weeks!”

Another massive wave of blue fire was shot directly at the pro hero, though Midoriya hadn’t been able to follow the events of that standoff as he’d had to jump out of the way of the massive column of fire before he got torched. Unlike Endeavor and Kacchan, Midoriya was in no way, shape or form fireproof.

Midoriya used eight percent of One for All to launch himself into the air, trying to look for an opening in the battle, something that may make a difference, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

“Deku!”

Kacchan? Midoriya glanced over at where Kacchan’s voice had come from, only to see a luminescent blue marble flying over towards him. Before he could even react, the marble transformed into a giant chunk of solid concrete, which then crashed right into Midoriya.

He blacked out after that.

“I thought you said it would just be Endeavor.”

Dabi was more than pissed. He had been ready to go all out on Endeavor’s ass after what he had done to Shouto, and Hawks had assured them that it would only be them two. He had warned about being quick, because the pro hero Mirko would be joining the mission a bit later, so Dabi had fully been prepared to let loose all of his firepower right off the bat, only to discover that Hawks apparently couldn’t count, because there were clearly two work study students who had both showed up with Endeavor.

That whole change in the scenario had thrown Dabi off, enough so that he’d had to give up on his plan of torching the number one hero. He couldn’t deal with all three of them at once. It had been all they could do to pretend to incapacitate Hawks, and then have Compress knock out the students so they could make a quick escape.

Stupid bird. This is what I get for trusting you for once.

Hawks was glaring at Dabi as well, though he looked more frustrated than angry.

“It was supposed to just be Endeavor. He hadn’t said anything about bringing the students.” Hawks crossed his arms, clearly upset. He hadn’t been very enthusiastic about helping the league take out the number one hero.

Ultimately, he had only agreed to help in getting Endeavor there, and would just pretend to be marbleized or whatever until everything settled down. His reasoning had been that he would only participate at all because if Endeavor managed to get knocked out for a decent bit, he would be less of a pain to deal with while Shouto’s case got sorted out.

Which was oh so considerate of him, though Dabi knew he was only trying to keep himself from getting busted on either side. If he hadn’t sided with the league, Dabi knew many of the members would grow wary of him, himself included. If he had chosen to go all in with no repercussions, the heroes would’ve caught him instigating the incident and he would be arrested for sure.

That is all to say that Hawks was walking a very thin line, but Dabi ultimately let it slide because—thanks to all the tabs they keep on Hawks—he knows where Shouto is. And if Hawks got busted for anything, Shouto would have to run the risk of being transferred to someone else’s care, if he even made it that far at all before Endeavor got his hands on him again.

So he had agreed to keep Hawks’ participation minimal. That was part of the reason Compress was there anyway, in case no one believed that Hawks was struck down.

“Whatever. Just try not to mess up like that again.”

Dabi decided to leave it at that. He didn’t feel like arguing with Hawks at the moment. He, Compress and Spinner had barely managed to escape with their lives. They’d only managed to knock out the students by using the element of surprise, and they’d spent much precious time whittling down Endeavor’s defenses. He would just not break.

Spinner had crashed already. He was supposed to be the getaway driver, but had been forced to get involved to attack Endeavor from more angles. Compress had said something about taking a shower. Dabi just hoped he didn’t take long; he was the only member of the original league who knew how to cook anything decent, and Dabi didn’t trust the cooking of anyone other than the league members he trusted.

Dabi didn’t look back as he heard Hawks turn around and head back out the door, probably opting to end the argument and go home. Dabi was content with that, as it meant someone effective would be getting back to care for Shouto.

He swung the door to his room open and dropped onto his bed, choosing to not acknowledge Tomura, who was sitting at the end of the bed twiddling on another game or something. Dabi didn’t know why Tomura had some sort of allergy to being left by himself for too long, nor why he clung to the league members like a parasite, but he didn’t really care. He figured it had something to do with Kurogiri, or childhood trauma of some kind. And though his presence could be annoying sometimes, Dabi actually welcomed it.

Tomura was a lot of things, but comforting wasn’t one of them. He was more along the lines of chaos incarnate, or international terrorist. Still, he was cold, and he liked to steal Dabi’s body heat. As someone who can’t seem to be able to get rid of the constant heat he felt, it was nice to have someone cold as a mountain’s tit cooling him off when he needed it.

Not that the two of them ever spoke about this little arrangement out loud. It was completely on the down-low, something they would both take to the grave before they gave in to talking about it.

Dabi shut his eyes, didn’t react when something ice cold touched his leg. The droning song of Tomura’s game resonated in Dabi’s head, clearing out his aggravating thoughts.

He knew he shouldn’t sleep now, in the middle of the day. Especially before he’d eaten a real meal, instead of just a cup of coffee and some crackers. But he found himself drifting off to that ridiculous song and Tomura’s loud, scratchy breathing.

Shouto was sitting on the couch when he heard the door to the apartment open.

“Hey, Shouto. I’m home!”

Then the smell hit him. Smoke, wafting into the apartment.

Distinctly, Endeavor’s smoke.

Shouto shot up off the couch and fled from the living room, charging down the hallway to where his bedroom door would be.

“Shouto?”

Shouto froze. That had come from the living room: Hawks was coming closer.

And… he was bringing Endeavor with him?

No, no. It couldn’t be. Hawks would never-

“Shouto? You in here?”

Shouto’s breath hitched, and he stumbled down the hallway as fast as he could, throwing his bedroom door open. He rushed in, slamming it behind him, pressing his weight against it as he trembled.

He- he didn’t have a lock. He wasn’t allowed to have one so that he could be easily checked up on. Which meant that… Endeavor could get in. Shouto’s body weighing against the door would do almost nothing to keep him out. The man had practically made a living throwing Shouto’s body around.

“Shouto? Are you okay?” Hawks’ voice sounded a little more urgent as he knocked on the door.

Shouto couldn’t bring himself to say anything, instead pressing back harder against the door.

No, please. Don’t let him in.

“Shouto?” He heard the door handle wriggle, and pushed back against it with all the strength he could muster; he could not afford to let Endeavor in here. “What’s going on in there, kid?”

The smell of Endeavor’s smoke drifted in under the door, filling Shouto’s room with the scent of his nightmares.

Shouto glanced to his left, where he saw the small desk chair sitting. In a last ditch effort, he reached for it, leaning as far away from the door as he dared. He grasped it firmly and dragged it towards him, jamming it under the doorknob as quickly as possible.

He didn’t notice the whimper building up in his throat until it came out involuntarily, pathetic and sad.

“Shouto? What’s going on? Will you please let me in?”

Hawks’ tone of voice was bordering on panic, but Shouto could hardly care. That man had brought Endeavor. He was supposed to be protecting him from Endeavor. How could he do this? How- how-

Shouto swore the scent of smoke became more prominent—stronger—and tore himself away from the door. He slid open the room’s closet door and shuffled in, trying his best to be quiet. He didn’t want them to check here.

He sat down and pulled his knees to his chest, thankful that the closet didn’t have many clothes in it. As the guest room, and Shouto not having brought his own clothes, there were only a few pieces of clothing that Hawks had so far lent to him.

Still, in the back of his mind he wished he had thought to grab anything that could hurt him. Such things were far and few that were within his reach, but even a small bruise would help him at least a little.

“I’m coming in, Shouto. Please, try to calm down if you can. I’ll be right there, okay?”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

Shouto covered his mouth with both of his hands to keep his unsteady breathing—and the whimpering—from being heard. He heard the door open, followed by footsteps. All was quiet for a moment, before the closet door slid open.

Shouto choked on another whimper. He vaguely noticed some of the pro hero’s feathers setting the chair back down—he had probably sent them under the door to get it out of the way—though he refused to look up at Hawks himself. He didn’t want to see the- the what? Disappointment? Anger? He wasn’t ready to be yelled at, to be beaten again.

Hawks extended his hands out as if to reach for Shouto. He closed his eyes and flinched away, preparing for the hit. However, instead of a quick and harsh hit, warm hands met Shouto’s cold ones, clamped harshly over his mouth. They were gently pried away, suddenly encased in Hawks’.

“It’s okay, Shouto. I’m here, alright? Do ya think you can open your eyes for me? I promise you’ll see that everything is alright if you do.”

Shouto squeezed his eyes tighter, the scent of Endeavor’s smoke thick and suffocating. He bit his tongue as another whimper escaped.

One of the warm hands left Shouto’s, and he prepared himself again for the hit that was sure to come. But again, Shouto was left surprised when it cupped his cheek softly, causing him to inhale unintentionally. It felt like the first true breath he’d been able to take.

“Can you look at me? Please?”

Hawks’ voice was gentle, almost a whisper. Shouto squeezed his eyes again a few times, mimicking blinking, and slowly pulled them open. Hawks was kneeling in front of him, smiling softly, and Shouto couldn’t see anyone else around.

“Are you okay? What’s got you freaking out?”

“I- I-” Shouto’s throat felt raw, and he still felt suffocated by the smoke. But he couldn’t see Endeavor anywhere.

“Smoke.”

Hawks was going to have to work with that, because it was the only word Shouto could formulate with his throat feeling like it had been stuffed with cotton.

“Smoke?” Hawks sniffed the air, but was clearly still confused. “Where?”

Shouto took a hand from Hawks’ and pointed at him.

Realization seemed to dawn on Hawks’ face as he followed Shouto’s finger, looking down at his chest before looking back up at Shouto.

“I smell like smoke? Is that what you mean?”

Shouto nodded, but he knew the pro hero would need more context than that for his behavior to make sense. It’s not like Shouto is afraid of fire, but rather…

“...Endeavor?”

He meant it as a question: is he here? Were you with him? What happened?

“Endeavor, yeah.” Hawks nodded, keeping his movements careful and slow. Shouto was tempted to tell him that he didn’t need to baby him, but he was actually glad that the pro was conscious about keeping his movements deliberate.

“I went on a patrol with him.” Hawks took his hand from Shouto’s face. While he missed the soft contact, he was glad that the smoky scent on Hawks’ hand was taken away, allowing him to inhale more deeply as his breathing began to steady. “We went up against a few league members, but we got out okay. Your classmates are fine too.”

Shouto’s eyebrows furrowed, and he cocked his head. “My classmates?”

Hawks nodded, putting his free hand back over Shouto’s, squeezing ever so slightly, perhaps unintentionally.

“Midoriya and Bakugou. They were with us.” Hawks shrugged. “Not that they saw much combat. They were both knocked out almost immediately.”

At Shouto’s alarm, Hawks gave his hands a gentle pat.

“Nothing to worry about though. They were sent right to Recovery Girl, and she worked her magic. Last I heard, they were both awake, though tired.”

Shouto nodded, mostly to himself. He just wanted to convince his itching nerves that they were both okay.

His breathing finally seemed to settle, and Hawks smiled at him. Not his usual smile, which was all plastic and charm; rather, it was softer, more genuine.

“What say we get you out of the closet, eh? Maybe get some fresh air.”

Shouto allowed Hawks to pull him to his feet and guide him to the living room, which was a lot more spacious and provided more room to breathe.

Shouto watched Hawks shuffle around, opening a window to relieve the apartment of the smell of smoke, spraying the room with some sort of freshener like a lunatic, muttering to himself about changing out of his hero costume and taking a shower to get rid of all traces of Endeavor’s smoky scent.

Shouto didn’t really know what he was feeling in regards to the whole ordeal, but he did regret that he wasn’t quite sure how to ask Hawks what he would think about giving Shouto a hug.

But he was also a little scared to admit that he might want—or need— any affection at all.

Midoriya was glad that Endeavor had given Aizawa the report about the patrol mission they’d gone on. That way, when their classmates had started asking them about it, Aizawa had taken on the task of telling them. Midoriya knew that he was way too exhausted to relay everything that had happened.

Which, to be honest, wasn’t really much. Out of the fraction of the fight that he had been conscious of, not much happened apart from Dabi attacking Endeavor. Hawks had disappeared right after the initial ambush, though Midoriya had assumed that he had been held up either by debris or another villain in hiding.

When Midoriya had woken up, the first thing he’d felt was exhaustion. His and Kacchan’s injuries must’ve used a lot of Recovery Girl’s Quirk, leaving them both bone tired.

The next thing he felt was melancholy. Upon opening his eyes, he’d taken notice of the empty visitor’s chair sitting by his bedside, unoccupied. It used to be that whenever Midoriya was taken to Recovery Girl, Todoroki would wait in the chair beside his bed until he could leave. Sure, sometimes he’d be late, or would have to leave the room if Midoriya needed more urgent attention, but knowing that Todoroki would not be coming by to sit with him anytime soon hollowed Midoriya all the way to his very core.

I miss you, Todoroki-kun.

The walk back to the dorms had been the same: no Todoroki watching out to make sure Midoriya didn’t take a tumble on his exhausted legs. Nor was Todoroki there at the dorms to awkwardly ask him if he needed anything. The subtle affection Todoroki had always had to offer was suddenly gone, and it left in its absence a strange emptiness that everyone knew was there, but chose to ignore.

Midoriya was laying back on the couch, mindlessly watching the TV screen. The news was on, detailing the events of the attack earlier. Maybe Midoriya should’ve felt frustrated about the whole fight, how easily he’d been taken down when caught off guard.

But he couldn’t really feel anything besides the blatant lack of Todoroki’s shoulder nudging his own, making snide comments about how stupid Endeavor looks or how ridiculous he is.

He really, really missed Todoroki.

He hardly noticed when a bowl was shoved under his face, until he glanced down at it.

Soba. But it wasn’t steaming.

Cold soba?

Midoriya looked up, seeing Iida and Uraraka smiling at him softly.

“We know that Todoroki-kun always makes you cold soba to get your energy back up.” Uraraka smiled, taking a seat next to Midoriya as he took the bowl from Iida.

Midoriya was glad that she had used the present tense— makes —when talking about Todoroki.

“It might not be the same,” Iida shrugged, sitting on Midoriya’s other side. “But we hoped you would appreciate the gesture.”

“Thanks, guys.” Midoriya found himself smiling as well. “This means a lot. And I know I’m overreacting a bit, but it’s just hard to think about Todoroki really not being here…”

“No worries, Deku!” Uraraka smiled widely, her eyes crinkling. “Todoroki’s not gone, okay? He’ll be back before we all know it.”

Midoriya nodded, taking a bite of the soba. It wasn’t nearly as good as how Todoroki makes it, but then again it’s the only thing Todoroki knows how to make. He’s an expert in cold soba, a novice in any other kind of food.

Midoriya chuckled a bit as Iida and Uraraka pressed their shoulders into his. Uraraka took the initiative and grabbed the remote to change the channel.

But not before saying: “Endeavor’s wearing that stupid fire beard again.”

At her Todoroki impression, Midoriya actually choked on his soba, laughing as the words settled in.

While Iida would normally chide Todoroki about being respectful, he instead chimed in with his own Todoroki impression.

“Oh, and that hair…”

Midoriya laughed harder that time, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“S-stupid gasbag.”

Iida and Uraraka laughed at Midoriya’s poor impression; he’d been laughing too hard to make it come out properly, but it was funny nonetheless.

“Ooh, are we making fun of Endeavor?”

They turned to where Kaminari was standing beside the couch, Sero and Mina flanking him.

“I could go for days. Scooch over!”

He nudged the whole group down the couch when he could have just walked around and sat on the other side of the group, but they were all still laughing when Kaminari clutched his chin in thought.

Finally, he tried to keep his face as expressionless as possible as he opened his mouth: “Why is my sperm-donor uglier than Stain and his three nostrils?”

The whole group began cracking up, attracting more of their classmates to the couches as more chimed in. Soon the whole common room was filled with boisterous laughter, everyone cracking up as the Todoroki impressions kept getting worse as more people participated.

Midoriya tried his best to inhale after Sero’s almost spot-on impression: “If anyone is Five Weenies, it’s this flaming trash can.”

“Having fun?”

Midoriya froze—he wasn’t the only one—as he turned to look at the newcomer: Aizawa.

“Uh, sir! We were just, uh…”

“Just what?” Aizawa’s lack of expression quickly turned into a sly grin. “Making fun of Satan’s most recent piece of shit?”

The class lost it after that.

Hawks should’ve known the extent of Shouto’s trauma would extend to being able to identify Endeavor based on his smell alone. If Hawks had been constantly tortured by those flames from a young age, he probably would’ve been able to as well.

He was glad Shouto hadn’t hurt himself in any way, and was now fairly calm. Hawks had done everything he could to get rid of the smell of Endeavor’s smoke throughout the apartment.

Overall, he was upset. The league of villains had convinced him to help them with their revenge against Endeavor, only for it to be a complete bust. The only reason he’d agreed to help in the first place was because he assumed Endeavor would be alone. He didn’t have it anywhere on his schedule that he’d be bringing along his work study students for his patrol that day. What kind of moron does that after getting a tip about the league of villains being sighted?

They shouldn’t have been there; Shouto shouldn’t have to be worried about them. He was worried enough as it was. And even though the smell of Endeavor had been entirely removed—Hawks hoped—Shouto still seemed to be on edge, especially near Hawks.

He just wanted to be able to help the kid. He knew he wasn’t the most comforting person, nor was he the easiest to get along with a lot of the time, but he was still a hero. That should mean that he could help the kid at least a little, right? Shouldn’t that mean something to Shouto? It’s got to count for something.

But no. The more Hawks got to know Shouto, the more convinced he was that the kid didn’t really believe in heroes. Sure, he was trying to become one, but Hawks got the feeling that he was here to try to make up for the failures of other heroes.

Be real, Keigo. He’s here because of what his father did. He’s probably trying to redeem the title of hero to himself, to erase what Endeavor had been doing to him.

Hawks peeked out into the hallway, being able to vaguely hear the TV screen running the same production he had turned on. He sort of wondered if Shouto even knew how to work a TV, or if he just didn’t care about whatever was on.

Hawks had called Dr. Eguchi while he’d been in his room, to inquire about the whole ordeal. He thought maybe the therapist would want to make an unscheduled visit to the apartment after Shouto’s freak-out, which Dr. Eguchi had been enthusiastic about, saying he’d be right over.

Hawks trudged down the hallway trying to be as noisy as possible. He’s been able to pick up on some of Shouto’s miniscule mannerisms and reactions, and had taken note that Shouto didn’t hate loud noises. Sure, he seemed to hate yelling and random loud noises out of nowhere, but generally didn’t seem to mind if he was in a loud environment. Hawks took notice of the way Shouto would tense whenever he tried to be quiet around him. He supposed Endeavor must’ve had some sort of silent, looming presence.

As suspected, Shouto didn’t seem disturbed by Hawks’ entrance, merely casting him a quick glance before redirecting his eyes back to the screen, though his look seemed to be too vacant for him to really be paying attention.

“I called Dr. Eguchi,” Hawks said, trying to keep his tone light and casual, though he didn’t miss the way Shouto’s shoulders tensed. “I figured he might want to talk to you about earlier.”

Shouto said nothing, only sighing as he forced his shoulders to relax. He nodded his head in understanding, but Hawks could tell his more relaxed demeanor was now completely gone.

Hawks carefully stepped over to the couch, taking a seat on the opposite side from where Shouto was sitting, just to give him the option of leaving if he so chose. For now, Shouto remained where he was, though pointedly not looking at Hawks.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk about it,” Hawks said carefully, watching for any signs of discomfort. “But I mean, he’s here to talk to you. I’m sure he can help you more than you think.”

Shouto nodded slowly, rolling one of his shoulders almost awkwardly.

“I don’t want to talk.”

Hawks nodded, humming in agreement.

“I can totally understand why. You have every right to your privacy, and no one should force you to open up. But there’s no doubt that you’re hurting. And if this can help you even a little bit-”

“I don’t want to be fixed.”

Hawks blinked, shifting slightly in his seat to face Shouto more directly. He cocked his head, intent on listening.

“What do you want, kiddo?”

Shouto opened his mouth, seemingly at a loss for words. Finally, he shook his head.

“If I choose to talk, it’s just to talk. I don’t want someone to listen to me just so they can find a way to fix me. I’m not broken.”

Hawks might’ve refuted that, if the moment had been right.

“I’ll talk to who I trust. Right now, I don’t think that’s anyone.” Shouto slumped, bringing his legs up to his chest and leaning back against the couch. “I’m…not ready to trust people yet.”

All Hawks could really do was pat Shouto’s knee, humming softly.

“Well, if you ever feel ready to trust someone, maybe you could give me a holler?” Hawks gave him a goofy grin. “I mean, I’m just down the hall.”

Shouto huffed out what might’ve been a slight chuckle, though Hawks couldn’t tell.

He thought about calling Dr. Eguchi and canceling, knowing full-well that he wouldn’t be getting anything out of Shouto tonight. However, he kind of figured the therapist would want to try anyway.

He decided to leave it be. Maybe Shouto would feel more up to talking than either of them thought. He’d talked to Hawks a little bit about the issue, which was something, right?

Oh, well. There wasn’t much he could do about the kid right now. It seemed Shouto wanted to be alone, so he decided to give him some space before the therapist showed up. Maybe Shouto would rest, or maybe he would just sit there and think.

Hawks wanted to intervene with that, as thinking hadn’t seemed to end well for Shouto’s mental health at all recently, but he got the feeling that he was leaving Shouto with a more comfortable thought process than before.

The rest of the night passed by quietly.

Chapter Text

“You wanted to see us?”

It was Wednesday afternoon. Aizawa was sitting in the teacher conference room with most of the other teachers. A few who had classes in session were absent, but would be filled in later.

As a teacher, this wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary. But to have an unscheduled meeting, and in the middle of the day no less…

“Yes,” Nezu had his hands folded on his desk in front of him, for once not touching the steaming cup of tea that was sitting aside. “I have been contacting different judges and courthouses to address our case with Endeavor. We have one who is finally willing to listen.”

Aizawa sat up, as did several other teachers. After being shot down by more than fifteen judges not willing to pass a verdict against the number one hero, one was finally willing to listen? It was next to a miracle at this point.

“Now, we don’t have much in terms of evidence.” Nezu sighed, glancing over at Mic, who was about to protest. “We have the testimony of his kids, and evidence that his wife is mentally unstable. However, even with these testimonies, this will be a tough case to win, if we even get a court date. Our case will rely heavily on what the Todoroki children say to the court. Even so, we might have to call in more witnesses, such as members of Todoroki’s class.”

Aizawa nodded; he’d expected as much.

“How will we manage school if half the students are gone?” Midnight asked, leaning forward onto the desk. “I’d assume some of us will also be attending the trial, so we’ll be gone as well.”

“Yes, it is indeed a conundrum.” Nezu sighed, removing his hands from the table and leaning back in his chair. “I was thinking that, if the case wasn’t resolved over a weekend, we might dismiss class for a temporary holiday. The grades of our students indicate that many are ahead, so a break wouldn’t impede on how they are testing. And as a hero school we often arrange short breaks after incidents. I’d say this counts as one.”

Aizawa hummed, frowning. “So, some of our students will be called in to testify? When are we going to bring this up to them? They’ll have to know what the case is about.”

Nezu nodded as well, as though he had known someone would ask that.

“We’re going to have to tell the students.” He agreed solemnly, sighing. “Class 1A at the very least will have to know, but it may come down to a couple more students as well. You said that the third year, Amajiki, visited the hospital, correct? Perhaps students like him will be called in as well.”

“I don’t think that is such a good idea.” Aizawa grimaced. “Tamaki doesn’t really know anything about the case, and I don’t think putting him in front of a crowd will do us any favors. We’ll probably just scare the kid.”

A couple of the other teachers frowned. Aizawa figured they were all thinking about which of their other students has interacted with Shouto enough to go to court for his behavior.

“Aizawa,” Nezu looked over at him, his face stern. “I think you should tell your class before the end of the day, whether before the school day’s dismissal, or once they have arrived back at their dorm. We don’t know when our court date will be, but there is a good chance it will be sprung on us in hopes of throwing us off and making us flub our chance.”

Aizawa nodded. “Understood.”

That would be the easy part. His students practically already knew what the whole situation was with Endeavor. However, this would be the first time their suspicions have been confirmed by anyone. It’s hard to say what his students would do after they got that confirmation, but the hard part about telling them would undoubtedly be trying to keep his problem children from committing hate crimes against Endeavor.

Or maybe the hard part will be having to relay the information Shouto gave to him to the class. Having to recall the gruesome details won’t do anything for his own anger.

Midoriya was buzzing with new energy at what Aizawa had told them. He had given them the gist of everything they would need to know. And apparently, some of them might be asked to show up and testify in court against Endeavor.

And yes, he had confirmed that their theories of Endeavor were true.

So, this ‘new energy’ that he was buzzing with was actually unbridled rage.

Midoriya would be lying if he said that he wasn’t running through different scenarios in which Endeavor met a brutal villain, one that may end up beating him in one way or another. It’s not like he would actually want to make any of these scenarios a reality! But a kid can dream…

He wished that someone would tell him where Todoroki was, so that he could run to him and throw his arms around his friend in a much-needed, well-overdue embrace. But alas, no one could see him, and no one could contact him.

After that afternoon when Aizawa had told them that Endeavor was a confirmed abuser by Todoroki, and would be called into court to testify on his own actions to determine Todoroki’s fate, Midoriya had been looking for a way to let off some steam. He had already hit the gym after class, gone for a run, sparred with Kacchan, everything he could think of.

But it wasn’t enough.

This anger, it couldn’t just be shoved aside. He needed to beat someone. He needed to fight a villain. He needed something of that magnitude to truly calm this relentless buzz coursing through his veins.

He didn’t want everyone around him to notice how much he was itching, how badly he needed to hit something, but he didn’t seem to be doing a very good job at hiding it. On their way back to the dorms, the students from the other classes had duly avoided Class 1A like the plague.

Everyone else had their own ways to express their distress and anger. A few of his classmates had holed themselves up in the kitchen—Aoyama was chopping cheese aggressively, occasionally shooting off sparkles; there was the smell of something really tasty coming from where Satou was hovering over the oven; Yaororuzu was steeping tea, and Midoriya was almost one hundred percent sure she had already had three cups.

Of course, there were people in the common room—Tokoyami of all people was sitting on one of the couches meditating, probably trying to keep Dark Shadow from going out of control; Kaminari and Mina were trying to play some sort of card game, but the room was not filled with any of their usual sounds of banter and glee whenever they played together; Asui, Ojiro and Hagakure were all watching some sort of movie that Midoriya hadn’t seen, though none of them seemed to be particularly interested in it.

Midoriya had seen Kirishima and Kacchan sparring out in the yard, doing some sort of intense workout. Midoriya had met Iida as he himself was returning from the gym, and he had claimed to be going out for a run, though he had yet to return. Uraraka had been at the gym with him, and had decided to stay longer for some more intensive training.

The others were nowhere to be seen. Koda usually retreated back to his room whenever he was upset. Shoji was always the quiet type, and he could really be anywhere. If Midoriya had to guess, Sero would’ve holed himself up in his room to indulge in some of his bad habits, and Jirou would be drowning the world out with music, whether listening or playing herself. That left Mineta, and Midoriya didn’t really want to think about whatever he might be doing right now.

Midoriya still couldn’t stifle the urge to hit something, so he decided to go back up to his room. He did his best not to slam the door behind him, plopping down at his desk and clacking away at his computer.

Before he knew it, the old All Might video that he always loved watching was playing, the audio projecting throughout his room.

Don’t worry, Todoroki-kun. I’ll be there for you, like All Might. I’ll save you like a hero should.

Midoriya only wished he could promise this all to him in person.

“A court date?”

Well, Hawks supposed that was good news. He had chosen not to bring any of this up to Shouto until they had received an official court date and summons. Well, now they had one, so he supposed it was time to tell his kid.

“Thanks for the update.” Hawks muttered into the receiver. “I’ll call you later.”

He hung up the phone and slotted his key into his apartment door. He pushed it open gently, so as to not startle Shouto. Yesterday he had accidentally swung the door open when Shouto was in the kitchen. Thankfully neither of them had gotten hurt, but Shouto had been startled enough that he had accidentally dropped the noodles he was holding. That had been quite the mess to clean up.

Shouto was not in the kitchen when Hawks entered the room, nor was he in the living room when Hawks marched in to set his things down. He thought about checking the kid’s room, but he had found that Shouto didn’t often like to hole himself up in his room when the rest of the apartment was empty. Dr. Eguchi would’ve left a half hour ago, so Hawks would guess that Shouto would be sitting around in the open here somewhere.

He glimpsed slight movement outside the windows. It was strange, because he never used the balcony. He didn’t know who would be out there, or how Shouto would’ve gotten out there.

Then it hit him: he’d gotten an emergency call this morning and had left through the balcony to make the journey faster. He hadn’t locked the door behind him; had only been thinking about getting to the scene of the crime on time.

He sped-walked over to the balcony door, noticing Shouto’s red and white hair fluttering in the soft breeze. He wasn’t supposed to let the kid out onto the balcony, especially not unsupervised. That was the exact opportunity Shouto could’ve been looking for to- to…

But when Hawks pushed through the door, nothing seemed to be amiss. It was as if Shouto was perfectly content with sitting a few feet away from the railing of a devastating drop. Did he… truly not think of it? Or did he decide not to?

Hawks tucked his hands in his pockets and strolled towards Shouto at a leisurely pace. He didn’t want to alarm Shouto in any way, but he definitely wanted to make sure he was okay.

Shouto glanced up at him once Hawks came into view. He figured the kid had heard him come through the door, but had been waiting until Hawks was closer to acknowledge him in any way.

“Hey, kiddo.” Hawks gave him a smile, which Shouto acknowledged by giving him a slight nod in greeting. “What are you doing out here?”

Shouto closed his eyes, inhaling the fresh air deeply. It was still light out, but the sun would be setting soon.

Finally, Shouto shrugged.

“I just wanted to be outside.” He sighed, relaxing his shoulders and wrapping himself up diligently in one of Hawks’ sweaters. “I wanted to breathe fresh air for once. I like it out here; it’s nice.”

Hawks nodded, finding a seat beside Shouto. Surely if the kid made a run for the ledge, he would be able to catch him, while also maintaining a safe distance so as to keep Shouto comfortable and relaxed.

“Hm,” Hawks hummed, looking out across the city. He had a pretty good view of Fukuoka from his balcony. “So, is there anything on your mind? Or were you just tired of being holed up in the apartment?”

“I, uh, just felt a bit restless. I don’t usually mind indoors.” Shouto glanced at him, something akin to awkwardness washing over his features. “It’s nothing that you’ve done.”

“Ah, no need to appease me.” Hawks waved Shouto’s worry away, giving him a smile. “I’m not offended or anything. I know more than anyone how suffocating it can be to be kept from flying free.”

Shouto cocked his head. “Really?”

“Hm, yep!” Hawks grinned. “Why, if we weren’t supposed to be hiding you, I’d take you out for a flight right now!”

Shouto glanced down into his lap, huffing a bit. Hawks almost thought he could make out the smallest smile on Shouto’s lips.

“I would have liked that.”

Hawks tilted his head, blinking at Shouto.

Finally, he nodded to himself. “How about, when this whole ordeal with Endeavor is over, I take you out for a flight, hm?”

Shouto looked up at him, apprehension written all over his face.

“You can trust me!” Hawks laughed, throwing his head back. “Just ask Tokoyami; I’m a great flier! He had a great time when I took him out! He told me that he made a special move with Dark Shadow just to be able to fly! He loved it that much, can you believe it?”

Shouto gave him a small smile.

“I would like that. If this situation ever gets resolved, I might take you up on the offer.”

“I’d love for you to, kiddo.” Hawks chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair as the breeze picked up. “Say, you won’t have to stay here much longer now. You know that, Shouto?”

Shouto perked up, though his face showed absolutely no excitement at the statement.

“Am I being sent back to Endeavor?”

“Oh, god no!” Hawks held up his hands placatingly. “We have a court date scheduled for this Friday. I just got the call.”

Shouto seemed to freeze, as though he wasn’t sure if that was welcome or worrisome news. To be completely honest, Hawks wasn’t completely decided on that either.

“So… if we lose, I’ll get sent back to Endeavor?”

“Or,” Hawks held up a finger. “If we win the case, you’ll be officially and legally removed from his care forever.”

Shouto seemed to mull this over in his head, his facial expression not changing once. Hawks had been hoping for some sort of joyous reaction, some relief that things as they were now were so close to being over. But there was no discernible reaction. Hawks didn’t even know if Shouto had taken this as good news.

“Why don’t we get ourselves inside?” Hawks stood from his chair, shaking off his wings and pulling his coat closer. “It’s chilly, and should be getting dark soon. I can make us some dinner, unless you want to order in?”

Shouto stood as well, letting Hawks usher him inside with no complaint. He stood in the middle of the living room as he waited for Hawks to shut and lock the balcony door.

“You’ve been doing so much for me,” Shouto pulled at his sleeves, not meeting Hawks’ eyes. “I can cook for us, if you want?”

Hawks blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that.

Nonetheless, there was something inherently wrong with that statement.

“Sorry, kid.” He shrugged, sighing regretfully. “I’m not supposed to let you use many kitchen supplies.”

Shouto nodded, biting his lip. “Then, you could… cook with me? You could do everything with the knives so that I won’t touch them.”

Hawks thought his heart had almost stopped beating in his chest. Them, working together? Cooking together?

It sounded so cute! Hawks was immediately on board!

“Sounds like a great idea! What are we making?”

Shouto seemed a little surprised by how enthusiastically Hawks had responded to his suggestion, but he nonetheless followed the pro hero into the kitchen.

They ended up making yakimeshi and yaki onigiri together. Shouto was in the mood for rice and carbs, which Hawks didn’t seem to mind.

Working together in the kitchen with Hawks proved to be an experience. The pro hero was well known for his speed and agility, but it hadn’t occurred to Shouto that such traits could extend beyond hero work and become useful in common household activities.

The only skills Endeavor had were not typically useful around the house. He could lift pretty heavy things, but refused to use it for anything other than beating the living daylights out of Shouto. When he could have moved heavy furniture while the house was being cleaned, or maybe could have become a heater for his kids to cuddle with on the couch in the living room for movie nights, he instead was an in-house terrorist who did as he pleased. Shouto couldn’t bring himself to view any of Endeavor’s traits in a positive light.

But Hawks… he was somehow so much more than any other pro hero Shouto had met. Sure, he had met some pretty diverse and well-rounded pro heroes in his life, but none on the level of Hawks.

Hawks was not only a pro hero; he was a mentor, a confidant—even if Shouto still hadn’t been able to bring himself to talk to him about much—a chef, a caring and understanding host, and was probably a whole lot more that Shouto hadn’t been exposed to yet.

He almost wished everything wouldn’t be happening so soon. But then again, that brought his thoughts back around to what he had been hoping to forget about tonight—the trial.

It’s not like he hadn’t seen this coming. He knew they would eventually testify against Endeavor publicly to try to remove Shouto from his custody. But Shouto hadn’t thought that it would be so soon, so sudden.

He… he really wasn’t ready to see Endeavor again. Just the name itself sent chills up his spine and dread down into his chest.

No, he really didn’t want to see that shitty old man. He just wanted to go home, back like things used to be. If he hadn’t screwed everything up, then he wouldn’t be walking toward an angry Endeavor. He might be walking towards a hurtful Endeavor, but at least it would be in a way that Shouto knew well, was even used to and had come to expect. In his current situation, Shouto felt like he was walking in blind, with no way to see until it inevitably blew up in his face.

She… had tried to stand up to him. And look where that got her. His oldest brother too, and now there wasn’t even a body left to bury…

Why, oh why can’t I bring myself to recall their names? To remember their faces? What their voices sounded like and the things they said to me back then? Why is it so hard? Why is it so painful, when it is Endeavor who has been hurting me?

It was weird, he supposed. Shouto could think about Endeavor freely. It didn’t hurt, he wasn’t tormented by the memories of his miserable childhood when the memory was centered around Endeavor’s abuse. Whereas when he tried to think about the two family members that he’d lost, even thinking about their names or faces made him ache.

He supposed he just wasn’t strong enough to remember them.

If Shouto had to guess, he would say that maybe it came down to how he himself felt; because he cared about them, even when they didn’t care about him. On the other hand, it was impossible to scrounge up any feelings about Endeavor except for loathing, or fear, or resentment.

He didn’t love Endeavor, as horrible as that might sound. Was he supposed to? Was he expected to love and forgive his abuser strictly because he was his father?

To hell with that.

The memory of those Shouto loved would always hurt, but the memories of Endeavor would always burn, with anger and hate. They were crystal clear, as though scalded into his memory. He was incapable of forgetting every image that contributed to the ice-cold grudge.

However, though it felt as though the memories burned, Shouto himself froze. He couldn’t imagine a world where he stood up against Endeavor. His icy fear doused the flames of his anger and left him feeling cold, numb, alone.

It was strange… how there were so many different feelings churning under Shouto’s skin, and yet he found himself incapable of expressing any of them.

“Hey, Shouto! I dished out your plate! It’s on the counter when you’re ready.”

That’s when Shouto realized that he had been zoning out, staring into the sink at the pan that he had cleaned. He shook it off, along with his stupor, and set it on the rack to dry. He turned towards the counter and grabbed his plate, spoon and chopsticks, then moved to take a seat.

And, up until now, he had been eating his meals alone, usually on the couch or sometimes at the table. But now, he shuffled over to the table where Hawks was sitting and set his plate down to take his seat.

The table was small—having only two seats across from each other—so Shouto could see Hawks’ blink of surprise. He was glad when the pro hero chose to say nothing about Shouto’s strange behavior, as he didn’t really feel like explaining himself.

How exactly is he supposed to articulate how hot his lungs feel—the anxiety burning in his chest at the looming court deadline—and yet how cold his head feels—not being able to think of absolutely anything that would help himself at the moment—and how numb every other part of him feels? Like he was paralyzed from the forehead down.

He just… couldn’t fix the way he was feeling himself, so he was hoping that maybe Hawks could. Or perhaps that Hawks could at least find a way to distract Shouto from his distress.

At some point into the meal—Shouto isn’t sure exactly when—Hawks begins talking. He started off small, with a few comments about his workday, and then progressed into full-on stories from throughout his entire hero career.

Shouto took note of how none of the stories Hawks had chosen to tell had anything to do with Endeavor, which he silently appreciated. Shouto didn’t really try to retain much of what Hawks was telling him, but he enjoyed the noise and enthusiasm Hawks provided at the table. Shouto even felt himself smiling a bit, which was the first time in a while he had smiled unconsciously.

Once they had finished eating their dinner and had cleaned their dishes, Hawks had proposed watching a movie to clear their minds before bed. Since clearing his head was something Shouto desperately wanted to do, he had agreed.

And he wasn’t sure exactly when he had dozed off, or during what movie, but once the noise from the movie had stopped broadcasting and the light in the living room had been flipped off, Shouto had peeled his eyes open a little to reveal that Hawks had shut off the screen and had turned the lights off.

Oh. And he had tucked Shouto up in a warm blanket sometime after he had fallen asleep.

Dabi couldn’t say that he was really looking forward to Endeavor’s trial.

By now, the media had gotten hold of the story, and everyone was going wild around the world about it. It was all anyone seemed to want to talk about, and it was driving Dabi crazy.

The most annoying thing about it was that everyone was treating Shouto like a mental case. All those dumbass reporters were presenting their own theories about Shouto—someone after attention, a spoiled brat mad at his father, the list goes on for a disgusting amount of time.

When the bird had dropped by the base with an update about the trial date, he had been shocked to find that the league of villains already knew most of the details. And he had been even more shocked to learn that the media had been going nuts with the whole story for days. He must not have been watching the news.

Of course, Dabi couldn’t exactly blame him for that—though he wanted to—because he knew that the reason Hawks was avoiding turning on the news was probably to keep Shouto from seeing any of it and worrying himself even more. That, at least, Dabi could appreciate.

Hawks was slumped with the league in their common room; for some reason he spent the moments that Shouto was talking with his therapist in the league of villains headquarters, without a care in the world as to whether or not he was welcome.

He had just lost to Tomura for the third time in one of their boss’s dumb video games. Hawks had challenged him to yet another rematch, but Tomura had insisted that he play with Spinner instead, who merely gave the boss a grimacing look.

Tomura wandered away from his spot on the floor next to the bird, making his way over to the couch where Dabi was scrolling through more news articles.

“If I see one more headline about Shouto being in the wrong in any way, I’m having you dust my phone, Tomura.”

Tomura merely cocked his head, musing the idea as he smirked.

“But then how will I get a hold of you if I disintegrate my bedroom door handle again?”

“The same way you handle yourself when you disintegrate the bathroom’s door handle.” Dabi huffed, rolling his eyes. “Just disintegrate the door and wait until the liberation army or whatever replaces it. They’re made of money, and that Redestro guy literally falls all over himself just to get you anything you want.”

“But that’s not as fun as bothering you about it.” Tomura huffed, kicking his weird red shoes off and pulling his feet up onto the couch. “Besides, it’s kind of creepy having that guy do whatever I want.”

Dabi cocked his head, shutting his phone off to raise an eyebrow at Tomura.

“What? Got something against being a god to these people?”

Tomura’s face scrunched in disgust. “Any gods that used to be out there died when I reached for them in prayer. I didn’t kill them so that I could replace them. I want god dead.”

Dabi snorted. “Edgelord.”

Tomura leaned forward and flicked him in the forehead.

“Emo.”

Dabi stuck his tongue out at his leader, but wasn’t fast enough to dodge Tomura lunging his hand out and pinching it between his fingers.

He made a squeak of surprise, which quickly morphed into a grumble of protest as he jumped forward in an attempt to tackle him. Tomura rolled aside to dodge and ended up on the floor, staring up at Dabi triumphantly as if he hadn’t just fallen on his ass.

Wanting to wipe the smug look off of his leader’s face, he reached forward and pulled on Tomura’s hair. Tomura let out a scandalous gasp and reached forward—for what, Dabi didn’t know yet—when Toga called out to them.

“Hey, Dabi and Tomura-kun! Can y’all stop being cute for a moment?” She huffed, fisting her hands on her hips. “I’m trying to hear what they’re saying on the news!”

Dabi perked up at that, as did Tomura. What was on the news that was so important?

“All the allegations against me are strictly false.” Endeavor spat at the reporter, both of them obviously not wanting to be there. “Shouto is in another one of his rebellious phases. I am sure the charges will be dropped when my son grows up.”

The reporter nodded, taking her microphone back. “So, then-”

The noise cut off, Dabi noting that he hadn’t even seen Tomura get up until the TV screen was being disintegrated.

“There,” Tomura huffed. “Dusted, just as you asked.”

No one could even be mad that their television was just murdered; they were all too busy glaring at where Endeavor had been on the former screen.

Tomura jabbed a finger into Hawks’ face unceremoniously.

“If that kid is given back to Endeavor, I’m going to skin him alive.” He spat, stalking away from the pile of ashes he’d just made. “He doesn’t deserve a quick death delivered by decay. I’m going to make him suffer.”

Dabi huffed. “I’m with you.” He shot a glare at Hawks. “I don’t need another reason to hate the heroes.”

Endeavor specifically.

But if Endeavor won this case, it would be proof of everything the league of villains believes in; that hero society is corrupt, and those in positions of power will abuse it for their own convenience.

Dabi couldn’t wait until Tomura brought hero society to its knees.

Friday afternoon finally rolled around, and Midoriya found himself being ushered into the courtroom. He was in the observer’s pews, so that he would be able to get up to the stand if he were to be asked to testify, which he had been informed could happen.

However, he was not the only UA student present. His entire class had come as well.

And yes, he meant every member.

This was the first time anyone in their class had seen Todoroki since the supposed incident. Though none of them had been there when it happened, it had been confirmed for them of what Shouto had tried to do.

Midoriya was glad to see Todoroki alive and well, though he didn’t seem to be doing too well. He went entirely pale the second Endeavor and his lawyers entered the room. Midoriya was in one of the seats closer to Todoroki, and from his seat he could see Todoroki begin to tremble.

Midoriya almost got out of his seat, but Aizawa pushed him back down by his shoulder. Ah, now he understood why Aizawa had insisted on sitting next to him.

He glanced over in worry at Todoroki, but blinked when he saw Hawks sitting down there with him, putting a gentle hand on Todoroki’s shoulder and muttering something Midoriya couldn’t quite catch. But whatever it had been seemed to help a little bit, as Todoroki stopped trembling so horribly.

Strange. Midoriya wondered why Hawks was the one to sit next to Todoroki. Surely Aizawa would’ve been more qualified, right?

Unless…

The courtroom was quickly becoming more packed with reporters and cameras, as well as plenty of pros who wanted to see the outcome. As far as Midoriya knew, the other pros were convinced of neither side of the argument; they were just here to see if the allegations were true or not.

Finally, the jury and judge arrived, and it seemed that the trial would now be starting. Formalities were exchanged in the courtroom, and everyone sat when the first witness was called.

“I would like to call Todoroki Fuyumi to the stand.”

Aizawa had talked with their lawyers beforehand. Typically, they would want to call Shouto up to the front so that he could give his side of the story. However, taking one look at Shouto and having one conversation with Hawks had immediately turned that idea off to him. Shouto honestly looked like a wreck, and probably wouldn’t have lasted very long on the podium.

So he had pulled the lawyers aside and asked that they try not to call him up there if it could be avoided. Above all, they were trying to keep Shouto safe, not put him on the spot. And their defense probably wouldn’t be very convincing if their witness couldn’t get through their testimony before having a complete mental breakdown.

Once Fuyumi was sworn in, she climbed onto the podium and sat down.

“If the judge will allow it,” the lawyer glanced over to the judge’s podium. “I want to know what your father is like at home, if that is something you can bring yourself to share for the court today.”

Fuyumi nodded. “Well, to me and my brother Natsuo, he mostly ignored us. He only spared attention for those of his kids with his fire Quirk, and refused to give anything for his other two kids.”

“Yes, and you say that such treatment is only for the both of you.” The lawyer nodded. “What would you say about Shouto’s relationship with your father?”

Fuyumi sighed, looking down into her lap. “He was never really a father to Shouto at all. He loved Shouto’s Quirk—called it his masterpiece—so Shouto was isolated from the rest of us. Sometimes I would sneak a look into the training room and see Dad beating Shouto until he puked or passed out.”

“And how old was Shouto then?”

“It started as soon as his Quirk came in, when he was four.”

There was a soft gasp, though Aizawa couldn’t tell where it had come from. He watched a couple pros that were closer to Endeavor than others, those who were wary of Shouto’s accusations. One of them blinked in surprise, but there was no other reaction from them.

“I noticed that you’ve brought up Endeavor’s attraction to Shouto’s Quirk. Why is that an important part of the story for you?”

Fuyumi frowned. “Well, Dad bought our mother for the purpose of creating a child with the perfect combination of their Quirks.”

“So, a Quirk marriage?”

“Yes, sir.”

That earned a gasp from more than one person. Quirk marriages were outlawed for being unethical pretty soon after new generations of Quirks had begun being conceived. To learn that the current number one hero might be in any way affiliated with something like that would be a big accusation, and a big scandal.

“And your mother? I understand that an appeal was made to keep her from being called into court for this trial. Why might that be?”

Fuyumi tilted in her seat a little before clearing her throat.

“We asked for her to not be asked to come because she’s been in a psychiatric ward for ten years.”

A couple of murmurs spread throughout the crowd, but the judge patted her gavel softly, signaling for Fuyumi to continue. Aizawa felt Midoriya tense up next to him. So he must know something, right?

“She had tried to get in between Dad and Shouto to stop him from being hit—he was so little, and couldn’t take the full-force punches Dad was hurling at him—but because of that she often ended up getting hit too.”

Aizawa caught one of the jurors putting a hand to their chest, clenching their jaw.

“She continued to take blow after blow until she couldn’t take it anymore.” Fuyumi tapped her fingers on her pants, glancing down at her lap again. Endeavor was glaring at her. “She completely withdrew from us, her kids, because all she could see in us was Dad. She ended up having a complete mental breakdown from the years of torment and spiraled. She ended up pouring scalding water on Shouto’s face from the kettle she was trying to make tea with.”

A series of loud gasps ensued, causing the judge to bang her gavel multiple times as some people even rose from their seats to look at Shouto’s face. Most of Aizawa’s students were among those standing, all worried about their classmate and trying to protest when Aizawa insisted that they remain sitting in their seats.

Even as the judge regained order, Aizawa noticed her eyes lingering on Shouto’s face as well. Though Aizawa couldn’t see Shouto’s face from here, he could tell that his poor student was shrinking in on himself to get away from the attention.

“Alright. Now that we’ve covered most of your family, I’d like to ask about the disappearance of Todoroki Touya. Does his disappearance somehow play into this?”

Aizawa heard a few murmurs in the crowd. Frankly, he had been quite curious as well to know about the missing Todoroki child, until Shouto had told him that day in the hospital.

Fuyumi nodded, though she didn’t look remotely pleased about her older brother being brought into the trial. Aizawa could sympathize, given what he knew.

“Touya had a fire Quirk, which meant he also received Endeavor’s attention.” Fuyumi sighed. “Since he was the first born, he had the attention first. Natsuo and I never liked what he went through—the abuse and intensive training since he was so young—but after Shouto was born, he was tossed aside like Natsuo and I were.”

“And what happened in response to that?”

Fuyumi sighed, tapping her fingers again as Endeavor’s glare intensified.

“Since he was pushed aside, he kept trying again and again to regain Dad’s attention. Dad had manipulated Touya into thinking that the abuse was good; that abuse meant he was privileged, and not a failure. So once he lost all that,” Fuyumi shrugged. “Touya was desperate for any sort of validation from Dad again. He kept putting in hard work to make his Quirk stronger and more impressive to show Dad, even though his Quirk was too powerful for him and constantly burned him. He tried to get Dad to come see what he had been training for, but Dad didn’t show up. Touya’s Quirk ended up activating due to his mental instability, and went out of control. He ended up dying by his own fire.”

More whispers surged throughout the courtroom, though Aizawa could only notice how eerily silent his entire class was, staring at the back of Shouto’s head in absolute silence.

“And my last question is: when did Endeavor’s intensive Quirk training with Shouto stop?”

Fuyumi shook her head. “It hasn’t. Every weekend he comes home from his dorm and Endeavor drags him back to that room. It still hasn’t stopped. It’s less frequent now that Shouto’s moved into the UA dorms, but it hasn’t gotten any better.”

The lawyer nodded.

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

He stepped back towards his table, and one of Endeavor’s lawyers stood up to confront Fuyumi this time. Aizawa clenched his fist into the material of his pants; he wasn’t going to like this.

“Now, I first want to ask: what evidence do you have to prove that my client has actually done the actions that you have accused him of?”

Fuyumi blanched, blinking several times before leaning towards the mic.

“Evidence? As in…?”

“Pictures, videos, a written statement signed by my client that he has done these things. Anything of that sort?”

“I don’t have any evidence like that.” Slowly, Fuyumi shook her head. “What I can prove is that my mother is in a mental hospital, and Touya’s charred remains were found where he died.”

“Ah, so you have no way to prove that these allegations against my client are actually true.”

Fuyumi opened her mouth, then closed it again. Aizawa really didn’t like this lawyer but, then again, he was only doing his job. Who Aizawa actually didn’t like was Endeavor, sitting there triumphantly with his arms crossed as he watched his daughter flounder for an answer.

Before she could say anything more, the lawyer continued.

“Now, you say that this has been happening for over ten years. Is that correct?”

Fuyumi nodded. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Then why did Shouto never come forward with the accusations?”

Fuyumi blinked slowly, glancing over at Shouto before turning back to the lawyer.

“He never really thought of it as abuse.” She licked her lips, casting another look at Shouto. “Dad was excellent at convincing us as young kids that what he was doing was good. He made it enviable for people like me and Natsuo to be in a position where he would at least look at us. For people like Shouto and Touya, they didn’t know it was abuse at all. And, like Touya, Shouto had been manipulated into thinking that it was normal, that it was good for him to be perfected in Dad’s way.”

“Yes, I see. When did you yourself realize that it was abuse? If Shouto never figured that out?”

“Once Mom had her breakdown, I began to question if it was all actually good.” Fuyumi scrunched her shoulders, grimacing at the memory. “Not long after Touya died, and after a talk with Natsuo, we both realized how messed up it all really was. I think I was thirteen at the time, so Natsuo was probably nine.”

“And, why didn’t either of you come forward after you realized?”

This time, Fuyumi gave him a flat look.

“In regards to everything I’ve now said about our father, it can be rightfully said that we were both young and terrified.” She inhaled, sparing Endeavor a look that Aizawa couldn’t read. “He was the only authority figure in our life, and had absolute say over what would happen to us. We had watched him break our mother, our older brother, and our younger brother, all without mercy or guilt. We knew what he could do, and what he could get away with. People don’t know about what happened to our family because Endeavor has a lot of power and money. He covered up his Quirk marriage, he covered up Mom’s hospitalization, and he covered up Touya’s death. Natsuo and I were both too afraid to go against him in any way.”

“Hm, then why are you coming forward with these accusations now? What changed?”

Fuyumi froze, as did Aizawa, and probably a few others who knew. He glanced over at Shouto, who was as rigid as a board, all of his trembling coming to a stop in horrified silence.

She couldn’t answer that; she didn’t want to. The reason they were here in this predicament now was because Shouto had tried to kill himself, which wasn’t something that anyone but Shouto could come clean about. It was his decision to tell others, and it was a hard decision at that.

“Well,” Fuyumi licked her lips carefully, scooching a little closer to the mic. “Shouto’s class was going over the symptoms of abuse. Up until then, he hadn’t even thought of his situation as abusive, so suddenly seeing it all laid out in front of him… he, uh, wanted to do something about it.”

Aizawa huffed into his fist. Clever girl. She wasn’t entirely wrong, and yet hadn’t given away anything about what specifically Shouto had done.

The lawyer nodded. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

With that, he turned to head back to his seat. The judge looked at both sides of the courtroom.

“If neither side has any more questions for the witness…” Both lawyers shook their heads. The judge turned to Fuyumi. “You are free to sit down, ma’am.”

Fuyumi nodded, getting up and stepping out of the witness stand. She stalked back to her seat, rigid with tension. Aizawa could understand that; as a pro hero, he often had to testify in court for others. It was always nerve wracking.

The judge banged her gavel, recalling attention.

“The court will now take a ten minute recess.”

Almost immediately, Natsuo observed chatter filling the room, visiting pros and other such onlookers turning to their companions to gossip about everything that had just been said.

Natsuo embraced Fuyumi once she had returned to her seat, clutching her tightly in his hold as her voice cracked.

“I-I hope-”

“There’s nothing to worry about, ‘Yumi.” Natsuo muttered, holding her as she buried her face into his neck. “You were great up there, I promise. Very compelling and honest. We’ll be fine, thanks to you.”

Fuyumi just nodded halfheartedly, sniffling as she tried to contain the emotions she had been bottling up forever. Honestly, Natsuo wasn’t much better. He was almost shaking in his seat with the knowledge that he might be called up to the stand soon.

Shouto’s teacher and Hawks approached them, giving Natsuo an almost guilty look at interrupting his loving-on-Fuyumi session.

Natsuo nudged Fuyumi, who immediately withdrew and turned to the pros standing there. She wiped her eyes, probably to keep the other people out of their seats from seeing the tears that were close to falling.

“Oh, yes. Thank you both for being here for Shouto.”

Both of the pros bowed.

“You did wonderfully, Fuyumi.” Shouto’s teacher said, folding his arms and glaring over his shoulder. “You didn’t give Endeavor’s lawyers much to work with, and I’m sure that everyone in this room can tell how honest you were.”

Hawks nodded as well. “This case is off to a good start, thanks to you.”

Fuyumi gave them a watery smile, chuckling a bit as Natsuo dug into his bag for a tissue of some sort.

“I’m just glad that I was able to say what I needed.” She gave Natsuo a smile as she took the tissue he held out for her. “Thanks, Natsu.”

He nodded, glancing over to where Shouto was sitting by himself. He seemed alright for the most part, but Natsuo couldn’t help the itching feeling under his skin.

This was the first time since they had visited him in the hospital that they had actually seen their baby brother. And he looked so…fragile.

“How’s Shouto doing?” He found himself asking quietly. “Has there been any trouble?”

He glanced up, catching Hawks blinking. He knew that Shouto’s teacher had known where Shouto was staying, but observing Hawks interacting with Shouto throughout the trial so far had pretty much confirmed who was actually looking after his little brother.

Once he seemed to realize that Natsuo had figured it out, Hawks smiled.

“He’s been great.”

Natsuo heard Fuyumi sigh in relief. He glanced at her, and the look she returned to him concluded that she also had figured it out.

“Yeah?” She asked, looking back at the pros.

Hawks nodded, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.

“He’s been a great housemate, for sure. And he hasn’t done anything particularly… worrying since he got there.”

Natsuo felt his shoulders slump in relief at that statement. So, Shouto hadn’t tried to hurt himself or anything of the sort since being at Hawks’ place? That was good. More than good, it was excellent. The thing he had most been scared about since this whole ordeal had started hadn’t been anything related to Endeavor. Rather, Natsuo had been scared regarding how Shouto was holding up, and who he was with when he was separated from those that he knew.

The gavel rang throughout the room again, and the pros left to get back to their seats.

“The court is now back in session.”

Shouto’s lawyer stood once again, walking to the center of the room.

“I would like to call Todoroki Natsuo to the stand.”

Chapter Text

It had been cold that day.

Shouto remembered shivering under his covers; the sheet he was under was so thin that he could feel the cool air through it.

He was in a hospital, he knew; he was often in hospitals after excessively intense training sessions. He had gotten used to the feeling of cold rooms and thin sheets, as well as uncomfortable hospital gowns and probing doctors who were untrustworthy enough to be paid off by Endeavor.

He tried to blink, but his left eye wouldn’t open. It couldn’t open.

And then he remembered.

Mom- Mom had… she had…

It had hurt.

That was all he could think. Honestly, he couldn’t recall most of what had happened. He remembered walking into the kitchen, hearing her on the phone. Mom- she had been saying… the most awful things. About his siblings. About Shouto himself.

Mom… she had hurt him. One minute she was grabbing the kettle and turning around to face him, and then she was…

…hurting Shouto. His face; it was burning. It must’ve been on fire! And then it burned even more when she touched him. She grabbed him where it hurt and a cold burning hurt his face even more.

He… couldn’t remember much of what had actually happened. Just that it had hurt, and it was because of… her.

And Shouto had been doused in the icy feeling of being left alone, without the last person who loved him; without… her.

Now, here in the courtroom, Shouto felt the same as he had on that cold, cold day.

He felt freezing, and alone, as if the last person who loved him had left him in pain by himself.

Endeavor… was mere meters away, huh? So close… he was close enough that he could hurt Shouto from where he was sitting.

Ice cold fear gripped Shouto’s chest, and he hardly realized that he was trembling. All of his spite and anger and hate was doused by the freezing terror of the fact that, yeah, Endeavor was right there.

And Shouto probably didn’t have much time before he was sent back to him.

And then, Hawks’ hand was on his shoulder, warm and there and real.

And Shouto had been able to ease his trembling, because there was something warm there, something that wouldn’t burn him. Some sort of loving company that for some reason he trusted wouldn’t leave him.

Shouto hadn’t been able to bring himself to listen to anything Fuyumi had said, but he knew what it was she had said. Fuyumi was never one to cut corners, and he figured the first thing the court would want to know is everything she was willing to tell them.

But, even as Natsuo took the stand, Shouto couldn’t bring himself back down into his body.

He felt detached, like his body was in the room, and he could see everything that was happening; but it was more like watching a movie on mute taped on a bad phone camera. The imagery was a little too foggy and distorted, and the sound was garbled at best.

And he was still cold. Maybe there was something warm there next to him, something warm that had touched him, but he felt like he was producing the cold instead. Like he was an endless factory of ice. He was so paranoid that he had actually checked to make sure he wasn’t unintentionally using his Quirk.

Natsuo’s mouth was moving, but Shouto couldn’t hear anything. A faint buzzing sound was fit snugly over Shouto’s ears, and he felt early suffocated, as if the static was closing in on his skull.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to get himself back into his body to be present for the court hearing, but it was almost impossible. It was like trying to catch a balloon that had already been let go, and was too far away to reach.

He… really wanted to be home right now. But, he didn’t even know where that was anymore.

Contrary to what Midoriya had thought, Natsuo looked even more rigid and pale than his sister had. He supposed that unlike Fuyumi, who was always able to put up a strong front for her siblings, Natsuo had always been the more emotionally charged of the Todoroki siblings. He was often overwhelmed easier than his siblings were.

Natsuo had taken the podium, more pale and rigid than an iceberg once he’d taken his seat, and had basically agreed with everything that Fuyumi had said. He’d offered no dispute or contradictory claim.

Todoroki’s lawyer began nodding once Natsuo finished his final agreeing statement.

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

Midoriya sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist in his lap; if possible, he felt more rigid than Natsuo at the moment.

He watched with apprehension as Endeavor’s lawyer stood and approached the podium. At the very least, he didn’t seem as callous as Endeavor; he seemed less conniving and more cocky.

“Now, I want to appeal to more of the emotional side of this case.” The lawyer nudged his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “From a young child’s perspective, how were the days in your house?”

Natsuo blinked, frowning. “I guess… cold is the right word.”

The lawyer cocked his head. “Cold? Are you capable of elaborating on that?”

Natsuo scowled. “Despite his fire Quirk, Endeavor has always been a cold man. I don’t know how else to describe him other than cruel.”

The lawyer hummed. “And, how would you describe your personal relationship with him?”

Natsuo shook his head. “There is no relationship. He always liked to pretend I didn’t exist; I was just another one of his failures, after all. The only interactions I ever shared with him were when he pushed me aside or yelled at me for getting in the way of Shouto’s training.”

“And this training…” The lawyer tapped his foot, and Midoriya found his heartbeat clinging to every beat. “Did you ever see it?”

Natsuo blinked, shoulders going slightly rigid. “What?”

“You know, did you ever watch or see what happened?” The lawyer gestured vaguely with his arms. “I’m just trying to paint an accurate picture of your story.”

Natsuo was frozen for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words before clapping a hand over his mouth. His face looked ghostly.

“I-” He swallowed roughly. “I only looked once. Couldn’t bring myself to ever do it again.”

The lawyer tutted, obviously not too pleased with the lackluster answer. “And why is that?”

Natsuo’s haunted eyes snapped up to glare at the lawyer.

“It looked like the villain attacks we would see on TV, with blood and grime and vomit everywhere. Only, it was my baby brother, and the person who is supposed to protect his family. Shouto was about six or seven then; Endeavor broke his arm and fractured three ribs that time. Paid off his private doctor to keep it quiet.”

The lawyer’s jaw clenched slightly; Endeavor probably hadn’t mentioned anything about this to him. “Who is this doctor?”

Natsuo shook his head. “Don’t know. Endeavor never let us know anything he thought we might try to use against him. But I think it’s the same doctor who managed to get our mom incarcerated.”

“Your mother…” The lawyer smiled with faux gentleness. Okay, he was really starting to grate on Midoriya’s nerves. “What happened to her? From an emotional standpoint, what is the full story? We have the facts, but we don’t know what it felt like for you.”

Natsuo’s jaw clenched, and he glanced at his lap. It was clear to everyone watching that the question made him uncomfortable. Nonetheless, he pushed his gaze back up to meet the lawyer’s.

“Our mother was kind, and warm.” He smiled softly, huffing. “She didn’t have a lot of time for her three older kids because she was trying to manage damage control between Endeavor and little Shouto. With Touya, Endeavor was more or less tame when it came to training, as he was the first, and no frustration had set in yet. After Touya’s Quirk grew too strong and began burning him, Endeavor got worse, eventually taking it out on Shouto.”

He took a breath, glancing at Fuyumi and catching her eye. She nodded, giving him a small smile. He took another deep breath.

“After it started getting really bad, Mom would try to stand between them. We could hear her begging throughout the house for him to stop. Eventually, as more frustration grew, he began hitting her whenever she got in the way.”

His face scrunched in anger, and he shot a venomous look at Endeavor. Midoriya didn’t have the best view, but he thought he could see Endeavor scowling back at him.

“For a while, she continued to try to get in the way and reason with him, but eventually she couldn’t take it anymore and receded from everyone, including Shouto. She…” He clenched his fists into the fabric of his pants. “She withdrew from all of us, couldn’t stand to look at us anymore; because we looked too much like Endeavor. She ended up having a psychotic breakdown and,” he coughed into his fist, pointedly not looking at Shouto. “She ended up lashing out at Shouto.”

Midoriya saw a few people once again try to get a look at Shouto’s face, but he himself chose not to. He had seen the scar up close plenty of times, and knowing where it came from didn’t make it any easier to look at.

“He put her away in a psychiatric ward. She’s been there for ten years, but she’s been doing well enough that there’s talk of her being released soon.”

The lawyer hummed. “And where will she go once she’s released? Will she go back to Endeavor?”

Natsuo blanched, blinking rapidly several times as if he couldn’t even wrap his head around that image.

“God, no!” He chuckled nervously. “Endeavor agreed that she shouldn’t stay with him. We currently have a second house being built for her and Fuyumi to move into once she’s released.”

“And what about you? And Shouto?”

“Well, I’ll be living at my college for the next few years. And Shouto,” Natsuo frowned. “Well, the hope is that we’ll win this case and gain custody over him, so that he can move with them.”

The lawyer blinked, casting a quick look over his shoulder at Shouto.

“You don’t sound certain Shouto’s going to leave. Why is that?”

Natsuo scoffed, a rough and bitter sound. “Because Endeavor always gets what he wants. I’ve never seen him lose or have to forfeit anything. He wins by playing dirty, any means necessary.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Honestly, I’m convinced he’d torch the rest of us to keep his grip on Shouto.”

The lawyer narrowed his eyes ever so slightly; it was a look that made every hair on Midoriya’s body stand straight up with tension.

“So, you have no faith that you will win this case.” He tutted, tapping his foot once again. The sound echoed throughout the room as though not another noise existed. “Why are you here, then? What are you trying to do, if you think you can do nothing?”

Even from as far away as he was sitting, Midoriya could see the vein pop out of Natsuo’s forehead. He prayed to every god he knew that Natsuo didn’t blow up; this is actually the first time Midoriya had been in the room with Natsuo where the middle Todoroki child didn’t yell or storm out.

He was praying that their luck lasted until he could sit back down.

“I had to do something.” Natsuo bit out; the grinding of his teeth was almost audible. “At this point, the only way we stand a chance of rescuing Shouto is by holding this case in court. Otherwise, he’ll be stuck until he’s eighteen, maybe even longer. I can’t imagine letting him go through anything else anymore. So, even if it’s a long shot that we win, this is our only chance. It’s all we have left.”

The lawyer gave a high-pitched, much too satisfied hum, before stepping back from the center of the room.

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

The tension in the room, unlike when Fuyumi had finished her testimony, still hung in the air, thick and morbid. Like there had just been a strike of lightning, and now everyone was waiting for the crack of thunder they knew to be coming.

Natsuo sat down, looking as though he didn’t know whether to scream or cry. Midoriya did his best to smile at him reassuringly, but he’s not sure how well he pulled it off.

He certainly didn’t feel like a hero who could find it in himself to smile at the moment. After all, with the looks Endeavor and his lawyer were sharing, it would seem they weren’t too worried about being on the losing side.

Rei watched as Natsuo sat down.

Her doctor had told her to avoid watching the court case, but knowing that it would be happening she couldn’t in good conscience ignore it.

Natsuo had told her about it, much to Fuyumi’s dismay. Although they had both told her that they thought it would be best if she didn’t watch it, he had wanted her to know that it was going on.

She had avoided it for maybe ten minutes before she found herself clicking to the channel of news that was covering the entire court session.

And boy, did it break her heart to see it happening.

Shouto was never the focus of the camera—everything happening was centered around the lawyer and witness stand—but he was always in frame. The way he trembled or froze immediately had Rei feeling like the worst mother in the world.

I’m so sorry, Shouto. I should’ve found a way to get you out of there with me. But I’m not strong enough-

I never have been…

Fuyumi was so strong—had always been strong; for her, her family, everyone—and Rei was grateful for her being there. Fuyumi was a calm, steady presence for Shouto; one that he would need.

Natsuo was so passionate, and Rei couldn’t be prouder of him for being there. He had always been so scared of Enji, barely able to meet his eyes and certainly never brave enough as a kid to stand up to him. Rei knows that once Natsuo was born, Enji’s frustration began to set in; unlike Touya and Fuyumi, Natsuo and Shouto never knew their father to be anything but cold and angry.

Nonetheless, Natsuo was a warm, comforting presence for Shouto. Rei was oh so blessed to have him as her second son.

And Touya… how Rei wished he could’ve been there. He would’ve loved this. He’d always had a more vengeful side, and liked to see people get what they deserve. Rei had confidence that if Touya were still alive, he would’ve realized by now how horrible Enji was to all of them, and wouldn’t have stood for it.

Why, if Touya were there… Rei had no doubt that he would’ve helped Shouto escape from their home a long time before.

Rei didn’t listen to Enji’s statement, though she could tell by the looks that the jurors were sharing that it was the complete opposite of everything her beloved children had told them.

After Enji, a few of Shouto’s classmates were called up to the podium. Rei recognized Midoriya Izuku—Shouto spoke of him often; her son thought very highly of this boy—and Bakugou Katsuki—another friend of Shouto’s, often spoken of in a teasing manner.

There were a few other kids whom Rei didn’t recognize, but they all spoke fondly of Shouto and defended him against Enji and his lawyer. A few pro heroes who taught at Shouto’s school spoke as well, though Rei still found herself frowning.

Despite all of the testimonies, there didn’t seem to be enough. The only statements which had extensive knowledge were those of her children. The pro heroes and Shouto’s classmates didn’t know nearly enough; they could only share what little observations they’d made.

And oh, poor Shouto. Rei knew he was reserved; whenever he visited her, he rarely talked about himself. He wasn’t one to share any personal details. It was a miracle some of his classmates knew anything.

Still, before Enji had bought her from her parents, Rei had held dreams of studying law. She’d always been fascinated by it, despite the profession generally being outshone by heroes. She had spent countless hours as a young adult studying court cases and laws.

And their case… really wasn’t much to go on. All they were hoping for was custody of Shouto; they didn’t need Endeavor to be prosecuted or sent to jail. They were only worried for their poor Shouto. But that would only be attainable largely through the jurors believing Fuyumi and Natsuo’s testimonies.

Rei tried to catch glimpses of the jurors through the broadcast. More often than not, the camera would zoom in on the lawyer or the witness stand, but Rei could catch a few expressions through them.

And from what she could gauge… Well, she didn’t like what she was seeing.

Hawks wasn’t called up to the witness stand.

Why would he be? He barely knew the kid, and they obviously didn’t want Endeavor knowing that he was the one housing Shouto while the case went on. And from the looks of it, they were going to go home and resume the court in the morning.

Today was a mix. Hawks had felt pretty good about the whole thing once Natsuo had finished speaking. But then Endeavor had gone up and given his own statement. By the looks the jurors were exchanging, they were conflicted on who to believe: two statements in complete, horrific agreement, or the number one hero.

Hawks wrapped a wing around Shouto as they left the courthouse. The car was pulled up in front of the building, but Hawks would be taking a different—more airborne—route home, to keep from tipping Endeavor off.

He just wanted to shield Shouto from all the press, flashing cameras and ravenous journalists who didn’t give two shits about how Shouto was feeling.

He could feel his kid tremble against his side, and the poor thing had never seemed more pale. But once Hawks had gotten him out of Endeavor’s line of sight, he’d calmed down a little.

He opened the car door, and Shouto immediately dropped down onto the seat inside.

“Don’t sweat it, kid.” Hawks flashed him his signature ‘feel better’ smile. “I’m sure this’ll all be over by tomorrow.”

Shouto gave no response, nor indication that he had even heard Hawks, but he was fine with that. He hadn’t figured the kid would be up for much speaking anyway.

Aizawa came up to him just as Hawks shut the door. Hawks caught him sending a murderous glare at a reporter who tried to grab at his arm for an interview. The reporter wisely backed away.

“Shouto’s in the car?”

Hawks nodded. “This case will be wrapped up soon, right? I don’t think the kid can take much more of this.”

Aizawa sighed, running a hand over his face. “Hopefully, this will be done by tomorrow. Most cases like this one that I’ve dealt with haven’t taken longer than a day or two. But this is a… special case.”

You could say that again, Eraser. They were dealing with the number one hero for All Might’s sake!

Hawks nodded, leaning in slightly so the reporters wouldn’t catch what he said next.

“I’ll meet you there, yeah? There’s some business I have to take care of first.”

Aizawa nodded. “Very well. That’s probably a good thing, as Dr. Eguchi is going to want to speak with Shouto before tomorrow comes. I’ll call him and ask him to meet us there.”

Hawks nodded. “Perfect. I’ll wait for his signal to come home, then.”

Aizawa said nothing more as he stepped around Hawks and pulled open the car door. Present Mic was in the driver’s seat, providing idle chatter for Shouto. As soon as the door shut, the car pulled away.

Hawks watched as it drove off, before he felt a slight heat on his back, immediately sending his instincts into overdrive.

He spun around as fast as he could, already steeling himself to meet Endeavor’s venomous glare.

“I didn’t expect to see you going against me, Hawks.”

Hawks forced his shoulders to relax. This was just like lying to the league, it would be fine.

Although, thinking of Endeavor as a villain shouldn’t come as naturally to him as it did. It made red-hot anger seep below his skin, though he shoved it down and forced a playful smile.

“Endeavor-san! Ah, I’m not going against you. I was just sitting with the kid since he looked a little jumpy.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I was with him in the hospital, so I figured I was as good as any to offer support.”

Endeavor scowled, though his gaze didn’t seem as prying.

Oh, don’t tell me you fell for it that easily, Endeavor? You’re losing your touch.

“Where has Shouto been?”

Again, Hawks feigned nonchalance like it was second nature. For him, it practically was.

“Not a clue. Thought he might just be at his dorm room back in UA, you know? I mean, isn’t that the logical place for him to stay?”

Endeavor narrowed his eyes at him, but said nothing.

A new wave of reporters rushed from the courthouse, all shouting to get a statement from someone. Endeavor turned to look at them, which Hawks took as his opportunity to get out of there.

A few reporters tried to call out to him, but he merely flashed them a smile and waved goodbye as he shot off on Fierce Wings Express.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, throwing a look over his shoulder at Endeavor as he opened the messages under his least favorite caller ID.

Endeavor was watching him with skeptical eyes, but made no attempt to flag him back down. Hawks took it as a win, turning back to his phone and typing out a quick message.

He was in for a long day tomorrow, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to rest easy until a few people were appeased first.

“How was I supposed to know you guys had been following the court case?” Hawks shook his head bemusedly. “The last time I was here, Shigaraki disintegrated your TV!”

“And I’d do it again.”

Dabi rolled his eyes, pointedly not looking at where Tomura would be curled up in his chair on whatever gaming device he was using this time.

“That pushover Redestro practically had an aneurysm when he found out boss was living without a television for more than an hour.” Toga chuckled, twirling her favorite blade in her hand. “Fell all over himself like a dog brings its master a dead bird. It was kinda sad, to be honest.”

Hawks huffed out a laugh. “That, I might’ve paid to see.”

“I got pictures! No I didn’t!”

Hawks smiled. “Lovely as always, Jin.”

Toga scowled at the pro hero, but said nothing.

Dabi huffed. “How’s the kid?”

Hawks blinked at him. “Worried? You? Nah!”

Dabi clenched his jaw, debating whether or not to serve the league fried chicken tonight. The only thing that kept him from doing so was the knowledge that this guy was housing Shouto’s current safe space. Without him, he wouldn’t be nearly as secure.

So he’d have to wait to pulverize him later.

“So you really just came here to tell us what went down?” Dabi mused. “Cause you thought we wouldn’t have another way to catch up on the news?”

“At this point, we should really just call Redestro ‘errand boy’ or something.” Toga chuckled, flipping her blade up in the air and catching it once again.

“Ooh, great idea! I hate it!”

Hawks chuckled, glancing around the room. Clearly, he had been expecting a much warmer welcome, since he thought they’d been waiting on his report with baited breath.

Still, Dabi was at least glad that Hawks had thought about it. If they truly had been without a source of information, Dabi would’ve paced a hole into the floor or gone to the courthouse himself.

Well, now he could understand why Hawks had rushed down here.

Hawks took a seat on the couch, beginning to ramble on about what it was like at court in person, talking about what had gone down like they hadn’t just assured him that they were watching.

Toga and Twice joined him in their discourse, talking about ‘stinky Endeavor’ and ‘shitty Endeavor’ and ‘need to get more creative derogatory names for Endeavor’.

Dabi chose to not sit with the three idiots on the couch, instead shoving Tomura aside in his big ass armchair and stealing his blanket. He immediately hissed when his leg met Tomura’s ice-cold feet; the man was built like an ice cooler.

Still, that didn’t stop a shit-eating grin from breaking out across Tomura’s face as he pressed his toes further into Dabi’s leg. Dabi considered setting him on fire, but that wouldn’t get him anywhere. Tomura would count that as a win, so instead Dabi just reached up to tug on his hair.

Tomura huffed lightly, then hissed when his game made the sound of his character dying. He scowled, shooting Dabi a glare, who merely waggled his eyebrows.

“You started it, Crusty.”

“I literally did not.”

Dabi shrugged, stretching over to the end table and grabbing the remote. Now that court was no longer in session, Dabi was in no mood to listen to a bunch of witless journalists yap on about god-knows-what.

He spent a few minutes flipping through channels, not finding any that were necessarily interesting. He occasionally tuned in to the conversation happening a few feet away, but mostly just listened to the droning sound of Tomura’s game until the door to the lounge swung open once again.

Dabi perked up once the smell hit him. It was good, which meant it must be food.

Everyone else in the room seemed to have realized the same thing, as they all perked up to see Spinner and Compress entering the room, each holding two bags filled with the delicious smell.

“We brought back takoyaki.” Spinner said, holding up one of his fists. Toga all but squealed, launching to her feet and throwing herself at the food. Twice wasn’t far behind her, both of them squabbling.

“Now, be civilized. We brought enough for everyone.” Compress chuckled, throwing a glance at Hawks. “If you want some, there’s plenty.”

Dabi didn’t like that thought; Hawks, eating a meal with them? It’s not like he was a part of their messy family. He didn’t deserve their food.

But his sour mood was instantly rectified once Compress handed him a styrofoam container of his own meal. He chose to forget about the birdbrain for long enough to enjoy it.

He smacked Tomura’s game out of his hands when he tried to ignore the food. It earned him a glare, but once Tomura seemed to register that he was about to pass up food, he chose to hold his tongue and open his own container.

“Now, don’t forget to eat Tomura-kun!” Toga kicked her legs underneath the end table, which she was sitting on. For some reason, that was her favorite place to perch. “You can’t exactly raze hero society on an empty stomach.”

Tomura grumbled, sinking further into the chair as more of the league members began chiding him for trying to push away yet another meal. He really was just picky and stubborn like a cat, huh?

The thought was funny enough to Dabi that he almost voiced it out loud, but decided to let Tomura ingest some of his dinner first, lest he try to kill Dabi in his hangry rage.

Dabi cast Hawks a look, noting the pro hero only having a small portion. Either he wasn’t hungry, didn’t like takoyaki, refused to share a meal with the league, or had plans for dinner later.

Dabi figured it was probably the last one. Hawks had perked up enough at the smell of the food for Dabi to know he was hungry; anyone who didn’t like takoyaki should go publicly shit themselves; and whether or not he enjoyed being with the league, it would truly be an asshole move to refuse to share a meal with them. He had to hope that the birdbrain had some level of class left.

Dabi hoped that Hawks was going to put his hunger into making a good meal for Shouto. Lord knows the kid needs it after today.

Aizawa was cold.

His entire body was freezing with brittle rage that was ever so close to snapping and becoming an avalanche.

He’d rushed to the UA gate to let in Fuyumi, who had been in tears. Endeavor had all but kicked her out like dirt. With Natsuo in a dorm room and no other relatives, she’d had nowhere to go. She’d barely been given any time to grab basic necessities before Endeavor was throwing her out, apparently fuming.

Aizawa could only imagine how terrifying that would have to be; after all, Fuyumi knew more than almost anybody outside of her family what Endeavor did to the people that he was mad at. An abuser, a neglector; she was probably wondering how she had gotten away physically unscathed.

She had been babbling, trying to assure him that she’s better off than one of her brothers would be. She claimed that, had it been Natsuo, he would’ve been torched off the property with nothing but the clothes on his back.

He was walking her back to his class’s dorm building. After all, he had nowhere else to keep her, but he wasn’t just going to send her on her way. Perhaps she could stay in Shouto’s room for the time being.

“Did you call your brother?” Aizawa huffed, wishing he had a tissue or something to offer her as she continuously wiped her eyes on her sleeves. “Natsuo would probably want to know about this.”

“N-no, I-” She choked on another sob. “I didn’t want- want him to worry. This is the only place I could-”

She hiccupped again, and he tucked her under his arm as they finally made it to the steps of the 1A Heights Alliance dorms.

“Now, my class is probably down there, so if you want me to…?”

Fuyumi nodded, wiping her nose as she tried—and clearly failed—to steele herself.

“Yeah, if you could just- uh, give me a minute? They don’t have to leave or anything.”

Aizawa nodded. “Of course. I’ll let them know you’re here.”

He pushed open the door, shutting it gently behind him. To his surprise, all of his students were down there, looking straight at him.

“What’s this about?”

“Well, you,” Kirishima fiddled with his fingers. “Uh, kinda left in a hurry. We thought maybe…”

Aizawa blinked. He must’ve looked like a mad man charging out of the dorms so quickly. As soon as he’d gotten the call and heard Fuyumi’s gut wrenching sobs, he’d acted on instinct.

“Ah, well, nothing is wrong, per se.” His class sighed in relief. “But, Todoroki Fuyumi is outside.”

Midoriya blinked. “She is? What’s she doing here? Does Shouto need something?”

Several of his students nodded along in agreement. Aizawa sighed, casting a quick glance over his shoulder at the still-closed door.

He turned to face his class again.

“She still lives at home. Endeavor had some choice words for her, and kicked her out.” He watched as a few of his students’ faces morphed into ones of anger. “She came here for help, so she’ll be staying in Shouto’s room until we can sort this out. But it’s been a long day, and she’s understandably upset, so if you all could-”

“Say no more, sensei!” Kirishima puffed out his chest. “We’ll be polite and hospitable, and make sure she’s comfortable and safe here! We can’t call ourselves manly if we don’t make her feel welcome! Right guys?”

He turned to his classmates, who all started agreeing. Momo was already shifting through her tea assortment.

“Just,” he sighed, recalling their attention. “Don’t overwhelm her, alright?”

His class all agreed hastily, and several broke off from the group, presumably to get things for Fuyumi. Momo had now chosen a tea, and was steeping it at the counter.

Aizawa huffed, turning around and opening the door again. He peeked out at Fuyumi, who looked over with red eyes.

“Please tell them if they cross any boundaries. They can be overbearing.”

Fuyumi gave him a watery smile. “Oh, I don’t mind. I think I’d enjoy a lot of comfort and chatter. I’ve never really had the chance to be coddled before.”

Another pang of anger and sadness struck Aizawa’s chest; Fuyumi was never the priority child. He wasn’t sure which was worse, as neither Endeavor’s attention or lack thereof was a good thing.

He stepped aside to let Fuyumi in, taking pride in the fact that his class was acting as if nothing was wrong. He was willing to bet they had been scattering around frantically not ten seconds ago.

“Go ahead and make yourself at home.” He gestured to the couch. “If you’re hungry, my class usually makes food together. I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to make some for you as well.”

Fuyumi smiled. “Thank you so much. I can help cook.”

Aizawa nodded. “If you want to, feel free.” He glanced outside, where the sun had already gone down. “Dinner will probably be soon.”

Fuyumi trudged forward until she made it to the couch, hesitantly sitting beside Tokoyami, who gave her a nod of greeting. Asui approached as well, bringing with her a box of tissues.

“You were great in court today, ribbit.”

Fuyumi blinked. “Oh, thank you.”

She took a tissue. For now, the tears seemed to be slowing, and the sobbing had stopped, which was a good sign.

“Uh, Miss Todoroki?”

Fuyumi turned to where Momo was standing sheepishly. “Please, call me Fuyumi.”

“Alright, Fuyumi-san. Do you like tea? I thought you could use some.”

Fuyumi smiled, nodding. “I love tea. What kind is it?”

Momo brightened, walking around the couch to sit beside her as she set the tray of tea down.

“Gold Tips Imperial. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Hm. My mother used to love that tea.”

“Oh! Fuyumi-san!” Mina barged through the elevator, carrying with her a mound of blankets. Behind her, Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero were holding up their own armfuls.

“I brought some pillows you might like! And some blankets! We could have like a mini slumber party! That always makes me feel better!”

Fuyumi chuckled. “I’d love that, thank you.” She took a sip of her tea, turning to Momo. “This is delicious.”

Momo preened at the praise. “I’m glad you like it!”

Aizawa huffed out a chuckle as his class kept coming with their own inputs.

“Fuyumi-san, what would you like for dinner?”

“Eh, I’m fine with anything really.”

“Wanna watch a movie?”

“If you’re up for it, then of course!”

“Fuyumi-san, when you’re ready for bed, I can show you the way! I’m on Todoroki’s floor.”

“Ah, thank you so much!”

Aizawa stepped back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he watched his class gradually swarm around Fuyumi until all her tears were dried, a smile replacing her wobbly lips and joy entering her eyes once again.

It was a good look on her. And it made Aizawa want to annihilate whoever had wiped it off.

Endeavor. Sleep with one eye open, you son of a bitch.

“He what?”

“Natsuo, I’m fine! I promise. If anything, this is an upgrade.”

Natsuo seethed, slamming his toothbrush down against the sink in his dorm room. Screw his nightly routine, he was planning a homicide tonight.

“Natsuo, whatever you’re thinking; stop thinking it.” Fuyumi chided over the phone. As always, she was more worried about him than herself. “Shouto’s teacher has provided me with a safe place to stay, where Dad can’t reach. I promise, everything is fine. If anything, I’m more worried about what he could do to you.”

“What more can he do?” Natsuo laughed humorously. He was glad his roommate was still in his study group, or he would’ve been getting some annoyed—or worse, concerned —looks. “He already refused to pay for my college fund. You and I are paying out of pocket for it. It’s not like he can take it away.”

“I’m sure there are other ways he’d try to get to you.”

“Please, ‘Yumi.” He ran a tired hand over his face, sinking down into his desk chair. “If anything, I’m worried about Mom. He still has access to her room.”

“We have to hope that he won’t try anything.” She sighed on the other side of the line. “She’s not directly involved in the court case at all, so there shouldn’t be any reason for him to do anything to her. Besides, pulling something on Mom would just reflect badly on him during court. Kicking me out makes more sense, since he can just claim that he doesn’t want me in the house when I’m ‘spreading lies on his good name’ or whatever.”

Natsuo poked at the remains of his dinner. He had gotten full from his takeout half an hour ago, but now he found that it was a much-needed stimulus for his buzzing brain.

“Shit, ‘Yumi. What are we going to do?” His voice cracked, but he couldn’t help it. “If we don’t get Shouto out, he’s going to go back to a whole new brand of hell… and what if Endeavor doesn’t let you back? And Shouto has to do it all alone-”

“Natsuo.”

He sucked in a quick breath. Right, he needed to stop. Overthinking right now would do him no good.

“Please remember that Shouto is strong too. He’ll get through this just like we will, so long as we all know that we can rely on each other. You and I both know that we’re not letting him go back to Dad, no matter what the court says.”

Natsuo nodded. “Glad we’re in agreement, then. But, where will we take him?”

“Considering Dad might stop the construction of the second house, I might have to pick up a second job.”

“I will too. I’ll pull my weight, and you know Shouto won’t rest until he’s making a contribution.”

“For the most part, Shouto will stay in his school’s dorms, and we’ll make sure Endeavor can’t pull any strings. If worse comes to worst, I may move to a different city with Shouto, and you can finish out your four years of college.”

“I’d come with you.”

“I know you would, but I’m not about to ask you to.”

Natsuo huffed out a laugh, setting down the chopsticks he had been fiddling with.

“You’re too good for us, ‘Yumi.”

“I’d say the same thing about you and Shouto, Natsu.”

Natsuo found himself, against all odds, smiling.

“We’ll cross all of these bridges when we come to them. Until then, I want you to get some sleep so we can see Endeavor get his ass handed to him in full energy.”

That got a laugh out of Fuyumi, and Natsuo felt his chest swell.

“Alright. Sleep well, Natsu. I mean it; no plotting for vengeance!”

“Sheesh, alright!” He chuckled. “Love you.”

“I love you too.”

Shouto hadn’t said anything to Dr. Eguchi.

He would feel bad about it, but the truth is he tried. Honestly, he did. But the second he had opened his mouth…

Tears. Weeping. Sobs.

He felt sick. He cried so much he was honestly worried that he’d dehydrated himself, or that he would vomit.

Dr. Eguchi had assured him that crying was natural, a part of life—one that was so estranged from Shouto that crying was usually only for when he was on his last leg.

Maybe it was a good thing Dr. Eguchi had been there. Shouto would’ve thrown himself off the balcony the second he’d started crying otherwise.

As much as he was reluctant to admit it, he appreciated the sessions. Despite never opening up even once, Dr. Eguchi was patient, never prying. Shouto was so used to Endeavor just trying to beat results out of him that it honestly never occurred to him that there could be a gentle, nurturing approach to life.

He had spoken steadily to Shouto throughout the whole meltdown, and Shouto didn’t feel embarrassed. He didn’t feel vulnerable or exposed or ashamed. Just… overwhelmed. He wanted to sleep.

Dr. Eguchi gave him a pill that would calm his anxiety and help put him to sleep. He had only agreed to give him one because it was clear that Shouto needed it, but he wouldn’t provide him with any more in one sitting.

Obviously, Shouto knew why, though neither of them spoke the reason out loud.

Once Dr. Eguchi had left, Shouto had gotten in the shower. He turned it all the way on hot but still felt cold. Ever since stepping into that courtroom, he hadn’t felt warmth. He wasn’t sure he could pick out what it felt like to be warm anymore.

He hadn’t actually washed himself. He’d just stood there as the supposedly scalding water dripped down into the drain. Looking at himself in the mirror afterwards, he saw that his skin was bright red and irritated, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The brush of Hawks’ clothes against his skin burned, but he allowed himself to feel the pain. It felt good again, it was something he missed since being here.

It was strange; ever since he had come to Hawks’ place, he hadn’t missed the pain which helped ground himself. He had felt fine just being… unharmed. And that thought strangely made him want to cry again.

He sat on the couch, feeling everything that so much as grazed his skin, but feeling relatively untouched. How could he feel so out of touch while also feeling so much all at once? It should be impossible.

He heard the door to the apartment open, and smelled Hawks before he even heard him. Hell, he kind of smelled like Hawks since he’d been living here; he could pick that man’s smell out in a crowd.

At least he no longer smelled anything like Endeavor.

The room’s light flicked on, and Shouto’s eyes caught on a red feather. He chose to close his eyes, so as to not have to see Hawks’ reaction to him. He had obviously been crying, and his skin was, well… his mental breakdown was obvious, to say the least.

Finally, he heard Hawks’ footsteps make their way to the doorway to the living room, and heard a slight intake of breath.

And then: “Oh, Shouto.”

And it stung, how tender it had sounded coming from Hawks. Those who called Shouto’s name never had good intentions, never. But now…

He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, to keep any more tears from forming.

He listened as Hawks’ slow footsteps made their way over to the couch. He felt the cushions dip somewhere next to him, and heard the soft sigh.

Then, there was something soft pushing his hair out of his face, and he hissed as the cold air hit his forehead. His insides were freezing, but his skin felt hot to the touch.

“Is there anything you want for dinner, kiddo?”

Shouto peeled his eyes open, tilting his head to the side to look at Hawks. The pro hero wore a small, gentle smile on his face, concern brimming in his eyes. He was at least thankful that he could sense no pity from the man.

“I’ve got the ingredients for okonomiyaki if you want some?”

Shouto swallowed dryly, somehow finding it in himself to nod. Hawks smiled in return, ruffling his hair a little as he stood back up.

Shouto licked his lips, clearing his throat as best he could. His throat was beyond hoarse, but…

“Can I…”

Hawks stopped his journey to the kitchen to look back at Shouto.

“Yeah, kiddo? What do you need?”

Shouto made sure to inhale, as he had forgotten how to breathe for a second at the soft, borderline warm treatment.

“Can I help? Make it, I mean?”

And all at once, Hawks seemed to melt and brighten at the same time. Shouto wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean.

“Of course you can, Shouto.” He gestured for him to follow him into the kitchen. “I’d love to cook with you again.”

Shouto heaved himself off the couch, grimacing as the clothes—despite being soft—chafed against his irritated skin.

Maybe… maybe he didn’t like being in pain as much as he used to.

Chapter Text

“So, what was Todoroki like as a child?”

Mina asked the question everyone had obviously been wondering. With Shouto’s sister literally right there, everyone was curious about the aspects they couldn’t tell by looking at their mysterious classmate.

Still, Midoriya didn’t feel like they would get a whole lot more of an understanding. Shouto was pretty reclusive, even when he and Kacchan had gone to his house.

Fuyumi hummed. “I don’t really know. We weren’t really allowed to talk to him at all.”

Kaminari merely blanched at the response. “Really? Never?”

Kacchan scoffed from his chair; though they had created a comfortable sitting space on the floor, he had refused to be a part of it.

“Endeavor really is just a fucking asshole, isn’t he?”

Midoriya choked on his own breath. “K-Kacchan!”

“Well, that.” Fuyumi smiled sadly. “And also to keep him from Touya.”

“Huh? Your older brother?” Midoriya cocked his head. “Why?”

“Well, when pushed aside, Touya went a little mad with despair.” Fuyumi sighed heavily. “Back when Shouto was still a baby, Touya tried to attack him. Just looking at Shouto, we could easily tell that he was the child Dad was waiting for. Dad didn’t want Touya to be able to hurt Shouto before he could train him.”

“That’s horrible!” Mina cried, her face portraying both shock and anger. “I can’t even imagine-”

A shrill cry came from the screen.

“God, Kaminari!” She turned to their electric friend, glaring. “Why’d you pick a psychological horror?!”

“Gah!” Kaminari backed up from the finger Mina had jutted into his face, back now pressing against the couch. “Kirishima said it would be manly!”

A chorus came from the entire class: “Kirishima!”

Fuyumi herself, however, began laughing. “You guys sure are lively and fun.”

Kirishima looked at her from where he was being tackled by Sero and Mina, all three of them laughing.

“Did you ever have one of these as a kid?” He gestured to the mess around them. “Like, hanging out together and goofing off?”

Fuyumi sighed, sounding a bit lighter as she mulled the question over.

“I don’t think so.” She shrugged. “Natsuo, Touya and I liked to play together, but Touya more or less kept to himself. I think a part of him held onto maybe Dad taking him under his wing again, so he kept his distance when he could. And Natsuo pretty much followed Touya’s every example.”

Midoriya frowned. “Was it hard?”

Fuyumi smiled sadly. “Of course. But I learned to live with it. Besides, after Touya’s death Natsuo exclusively hung out with me. We got a lot closer after that. Little parties like this were out of the question at our house, but we did spend every waking moment together.”

Midoriya smiled, shoulders relaxing a bit. “I’m so glad you guys had each other. I know I would’ve loved to have a sibling.”

Fuyumi smiled, this time no longer rife with grief.

“I definitely loved all my brothers; even if Touya could be selfish, Shouto isolated, and Natsuo a bit temper-prone.” She shook her head fondly. “They were definitely the bright spots during those days.”

A comfortable silence settled over them for a single moment before there was another shriek from the screen.

“Kaminari!” Mina shot to her feet, hands on her hips as she towered over said classmate. “For the love of god, turn that off! It’s such a mood ruiner!”

Midoriya found himself laughing again, along with the others around him. He even thought he caught Kacchan smiling a bit out of the corner of his eye.

Mr. Aizawa came through the front door, huffing out what Midoriya had titled his ‘happy’ sigh as he came upon the scene.

“I’m glad you all are able to relax.” He smiled slightly, which was a good sign; his smiles were rare at best, but always true. “Just thought you might like to know; Shouto’s doing well, despite the hard day.”

Fuyumi perked up, as well as some others.

“Really?” She turned to him, relief evident in her posture. “He’s doing alright?”

“It seems to be that way.”

She sighed in obvious relief, pressing her palm to her chest as she exhaled.

“That’s a relief.”

She smiled, turning to the group of students. “Well, it’s been really fun, but I should probably be getting to bed. I have to call Natsuo, to tell him that Shouto’s doing alright.”

There were noises of displeasure from the class, but everyone wished Fuyumi a good night, some getting up to embrace her before she left. Sero went with her, to show her where Shouto’s dorm room was.

Once the elevator doors had shut, Aizawa turned to the rest of them.

“You all should be getting to bed soon as well.” His gaze turned stony. “Don’t forget that you’re going to court tomorrow as well.”

Midoriya shuddered as he remembered being up in the witness stand, in front of everyone; forced to share anything and everything he could think of while being stared down by a pissed Endeavor.

Yeah. Good times. Let’s not do that again.

At least tomorrow was Saturday; the school cafeteria would be serving its weekend specials, and since they would probably be the only class awake that early in the morning, he’d have first dibs on the food.

The class assured him that they would get to bed soon, Kaminari moving to turn the movie back on. Mina pounced on him just as Kaminari had grabbed the remote, wringing it from his hands.

“Nuh uh!” She cried, gripping the remote in victory as she stepped back from an affronted Kaminari. “We are not turning that movie back on. Uraraka, pick something better!”

Uraraka squeaked, pointing at herself. When Mina nodded vigorously, she reluctantly took the remote and began flipping through the movie selection once again.

She unknowingly picked Kacchan’s favorite childhood movie. Midoriya spared a glance across the room, where Kacchan was already glaring at him. He made a slicing motion in front of his neck: don’t you dare say anything.

Midoriya just huffed out a slight laugh, turning back to the screen as the rest of the class settled into the pillow pile.

Fuyumi couldn’t decide what she thought of Shouto’s room.

At first, she hadn’t been paying it too much attention, too busy thanking the lovely Sero for showing her to the room, and then calling Natsuo to update him on what Shouto’s teacher had told her.

But once she’d put the phone down, she had come face to face with…

Their house, basically.

Everything in here reminded her of Endeavor; the walls, the floor, the fixtures hanging throughout the room. None of this was Shouto, it was all Endeavor.

It was too much like Endeavor. Fuyumi couldn’t help but feel sad that Shouto didn’t even express himself here. Was he too afraid to? Or just didn’t know how?

She wished that Shouto would fit it more to himself. Surely he had interests that he could express in some way throughout his room. He liked All Might, right? Was there anything like that in here?

But no. It was all just the same. Fuyumi could almost believe that she was back in their house, and this was just another room.

How on earth was Shouto comfortable here? He hated their house more than anybody.

She set her bag down by the desk, looking at the mess of Shouto’s papers. She sighed, feeling a fragile smile make its way across her lips as she reached forward to fix them up a bit.

Her eyes caught on the corner of his desk, where sat two small picture frames. One held a picture of their family—she had half a mind to cut Endeavor out of the photo—and the other…

“Oh, Shouto.”

She felt her heart swell at the sight of him and his friends; it looked like it was taken at a cafe of some sort. Iida, Uraraka, Asui and Midoriya were all crowding around Shouto’s chair and smiling wide for the camera. Shouto himself sat in the center, the smallest smile on his face. But he looked… truly happy.

That… that was his birthday, right? Shouto had told her that his friends had taken him to a cafe for his birthday. He had said that he’d had a good time. That must’ve been what this picture was depicting, right?

Fuyumi melted as she continued to look at the picture, warmth bursting within her chest.

Oh, Shouto. I’m so glad you have them.

She remembered the few friends she’d had while in school. Even on the hardest of days at home—when Dad was extremely mad or Touya had gone and done something destructive or Mom had refused to even look at her—Fuyumi had always been happy around her friends. They made those hard days a little easier.

She was beyond happy knowing that Shouto had that same thing that she did.

She pulled out her change of clothes from her bag; in regards to clothing, she’d been able to pack one pair of pajamas and a few extra outfits before getting fully kicked out. So she should have enough for now. She would have to do laundry frequently until she managed to get all of her things.

For now, though, she was happy. For Shouto.

Shouto had not known couches could fold out.

Hawks had said that he kept a pullout for when another hero might need to stay over, but otherwise it mostly went untouched.

Shouto had barely heard that, as he was too busy watching in fascination as Hawks pulled it out and it just kept getting longer.

Maybe it was a stupid thing to get amazed by, but Shouto couldn’t help himself being so enamored. He had never seen anything like this before.

He watched as Hawks made what he called a ‘nest’ on the pullout, arranging blankets and pillows in a meticulous way. Though, he had told Shouto that he could put anything he wanted in it.

Shouto only knew of one thing that he might want in the nest thingie. So he excused himself and trudged back to his room.

He went to his nightstand, where sat the tiny deformed stuffed animal he had been given that day at the hospital. He still didn’t know what it was supposed to be, but he had narrowed it down to monkey, mouse or bear.

It was ugly, misshapen, and the stitching was horrendous, like it would fall apart if he squeezed it too hard.

But damn, if he didn’t love the thing.

He grabbed it from his nightstand, running a gentle finger over its cheek as he turned back to the door of his room.

When he came back, it seemed the nest was done. Hawks had claimed that he was making it so that they could both unwind and shake off the day’s anxiety with a small movie marathon. Shouto had agreed, since he really didn’t think he could sleep much right now anyway.

The clothes he was wearing chafed at his irritated skin as he crawled into the nest, but he chose to ignore it for now.

“Feeling alright, Sho?”

He nodded. He was unaware when exactly Hawks had started using that nickname, but he was even less aware of just when he had started getting used to it.

He didn’t mind though. The name Shouto was usually only used by his family, mostly dominated by Endeavor. Since he was barely allowed any time with Fuyumi and Natsuo, they hadn’t quite left an impression on his name, and his mother had only started using it with him again after ten years. It was really only Endeavor who frequently called him by his name.

He… wasn’t fond of the memories attached to his name. He wasn’t even sure he liked the name at all.

“I’ve got some movies lined up I thought you might enjoy,” Hawks said, flipping through the selection with the remote. He smiled a little. “Don’t worry, none of them are kids' movies. I’ve finally figured out what most of your age group is watching.”

Shouto gave him a smile in return; honestly, he hadn’t minded the childish animated movies. They made him think of what could have been.

Of course, he hadn’t enjoyed the moments after those reflections, where the crippling sense of grief at having lost that kind of childhood had settled in, and he had been stuck in the wallowing for quite some time.

He allowed himself to settle into the nest, blankets clinging to him from all sides. Huh, he actually kind of liked this. He wondered if he could do this to his own bed.

Although, Hawks had made it look like it took more skill than Shouto had in the matter, and Endeavor probably would not want him doing something like this. He had a phobia of allowing his kids any sort of comfort, apparently. There was a chance that he’d find out about this, and be furious when Shouto goes back-

But, wait. No, Shouto should not be thinking like that. There was a chance—however small of a chance it was—to be taken away from Endeavor; to escape from his iron clutch and live somewhere else.

But, then again… would anyone even believe them? Would anyone care? Shouto was unused to people caring about him.

The movie played seemingly soundlessly from how little attention Shouto was paying to it. He flipped back and forth between assuring himself that they had a chance at winning the case, and doubting that anything but pain would come of it.

“You alright there, kiddo?”

He turned to glance at Hawks, who was watching him curiously. And, almost… knowingly.

“There’s no reason to be worried.” Hawks said, reaching out to ruffle Shouto’s hair. He was finding that he didn’t mind touch as much as he thought it did; he was just unused to being touched in a friendly way. “It’ll all be over soon. There’s no way I’ll let you go back to Endeavor. Absolutely not.”

Shouto wanted to be thankful for the assurance, but he doubted that if Endeavor won this case, there was much the heroes could do to keep him from Shouto, even if they desperately wanted to. It was unlikely that they’d even be able to do anything if they did win the case.

Shouto felt the resignation settle deep within himself at the thought of returning to Endeavor.

It’s inevitable. A small voice deep within him whispered.

But why does it have to be?

“What the actual fuck?”

“Shut up! Don’t wake up the kid-”

“Dabi, what are you doing in my apartment? Shouto is right there. You’re going to get both of us in so much trouble.”

“You don’t care about me.” Dabi sneered. He should have known this visit would be a mistake. “You’re only interested in saving your own skin, not mine.”

Hawks scowled, but he didn’t refute Dabi’s claim; of course, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He so very clearly was worried about himself.

“Why are you here?” Hawks hissed, casting a quick look over to Shouto, who was still sleeping peacefully on the couch.

That was odd in and of itself. Dabi had grown up with Shouto, and the kid had always been a light sleeper. He must’ve felt truly safe here to be able to sleep so soundly.

That thought had the tension in Dabi’s shoulders loosening a little.

“Relax.” He held up his hands in mock surrender. Hawks still didn’t seem to wind down though. “I’m just bringing a message from Tomura.”

“One that he couldn’t have texted to me?”

Dabi rolled his eyes as Hawks continued to pout like a child.

“He thought it would be more impactful if it was given in person.” He grinned lazily, knowing full well that it was the expression and tone that annoyed Hawks the most.

Sure enough, Hawks’ feathers puffed out, his wings flexing on instinct. He pursed his lips, glare hardening.

“Just spit it out, would ya?” Hawks spat, crossing his arms. “I don’t want to have to deal with this much longer. It’s the middle of the night!”

Dabi raised an eyebrow. “Actually, it’s three in the morning.”

“Right,” Hawks smiled, though it was dry, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “My bad. That’s so much better.”

Dabi huffed. The only reason he’d even agreed to be the one delivering the message for Tomura was because it would give him the opportunity to check on Shouto in person. Though, he was starting to wonder if that had been worth the trip and aggravation from Hawks.

But one look at Shouto’s peaceful face quieted those thoughts. The slow rise and fall of Shouto’s chest was evidence enough that he was calm, at peace. He could never have something like this back at Enji’s place.

Dabi moved his eyes back to Hawks, who was scrutinizing him, eyebrows raised in question.

“Boss says he’ll be going underground for a bit.” Dabi mused, watching a look of surprise take over Hawks’ face.

Dabi couldn’t appreciate the expression, though. He was still mulling over what Tomura had told them himself, and didn’t quite know how he felt about it.

“Going underground?” Toga frowned, getting up from the table she was sitting on to stand in front of Tomura, who was lounging like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on their previously untouched atmosphere.

“It’s a part of Sensei’s plan. I’m going to begin undergoing body construction to prepare for the power transfer.”

“But, Tomura-kun,” Toga pursed her lips. “What’ll we do while you’re busy napping?”

Tomura scowled. “You’ll do what we’ve been doing. Gathering forces, overseeing our troops and causing the occasional mayhem to keep the heroes from getting suspicious.”

This time, it was Dabi who stood up, stalking over to Tomura as calmly as a leopard would sneak up on its prey; though, everyone knew the bloodbath would come eventually.

“We’re just supposed to keep the heroes off our back and pretend you’re still calling the shots?” Dabi couldn’t help the little bit of anger seeping into his voice; he’d been against Tomura’s ‘Sensei’s’ plans since the start. “We’ve been practically underground since we accumulated the liberation army; what if the heroes take this chance to attack? What will we do then, with you gone?”

“Poor baby,” Tomura hummed, cocking his head and smirking. “Are you saying you guys can’t handle a few heroes without me?”

Dabi scowled, turning away from his boss and scuffing his shoe on the rug. Damn, he needed to kick something.

“Tomura-kun,” Toga mumbled once again, voice filled with melancholy. Dabi glanced back over at them. “I’ll be so bored without you. Do you really have to go through with All for One’s stupid plan?”

Dabi didn’t miss the way Tomura stiffened, a scowl taking over his face. But of course, the apprehension was still there; the entire league knew that Tomura had been unsure of this plan from the start.

It made Dabi want to set something on fire; Tomura didn’t even want this for himself—not in the way All for One was having them go about it—but he would do it anyway, all for his… master.

Even thinking about the man brought a bitter taste to Dabi’s mouth.

“We can’t change the plan now.” Tomura sighed, setting his game down and looking at each member of the league in turn. Dabi made sure to scowl at Tomura as his eyes passed him.

“In order to liberate society and destroy the heroes, we have to do it Sensei’s way. Got it?”

There were half hearted nods from around the room. They’d had this discussion plenty of times before, and no one ever got very far with Tomura. He had been groomed by All for One to the point that he couldn’t even fathom disobeying his orders.

At this point, Dabi just wanted to grab the league by their necks, throw Tomura over his shoulder and steal him away, and hide until someone turned their brain on and pulled All for One’s plug already. Then they could resume their plans.

But that couldn’t happen. It wasn’t possible now to defy All for One’s orders.

It was decided.

And Dabi hated it.

“What do you mean, he’s going underground?”

Oh yeah, Hawks.

Dabi huffed, rolling his eyes. “Exactly what it sounds like, birdbrain.”

“You could mean anything by that.” Hawks said, scowling. “What’s going to happen once he goes underground?”

Dabi shook his head. “Can’t go much into specifics. Let’s just say that while Boss is underground, we’re going mostly quiet too.”

Hawks’ surprise showed on his face, blanching like he’d been slapped.

“The- the whole liberation army?”

Dabi grinned. “Don’t worry, chicken. We’ll still have plenty for you to do around here. But you’ll have to wait a little longer to meet the boss.”

Hawks’ displeasure was clear. “For how long?”

“Hm,” Dabi pursed his lips in thought. “A couple months? Longer? I don’t even know, we’ll find out later.”

Hawks scowled. “You can’t clarify anything else?”

Dabi shook his head, his grin returning. “ ‘fraid not.”

Hawks pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, taking in several obviously frustrated breaths.

“This changes things.”

“Like hell it does,” Dabi spat. Hawks looked just about ready to fire back again before both of them froze upon hearing a groan.

Dabi’s head snapped over to where Shouto was still sleeping, curled up like a kitten. He was moving now, shuffling just a bit in the weird pile of blankets and pillows before settling down again.

Dabi and Hawks stood absolutely still, a morbid silence settling over the atmosphere as it felt like neither could apparently breathe.

Finally, after a few minutes of having Shouto no longer stirring, Hawks let out a defeated sigh.

“We’ll talk later.” He mumbled, obviously resigned. “It’s too risky here. You could not only get us both caught, but if a league member is reported near here, I guarantee Endeavor’s going to be one of the first on the scene.”

Dabi went rigid at the thought. This wouldn’t just be getting him caught, or Hawks. No, they’d be getting Shouto caught.

Dabi wanted to curse himself out, and maybe Hawks too, but he said nothing as he pulled out his phone to call the doctor. Hopefully the sadist would just teleport him back without asking questions.

Hawks was up early for a Saturday, feeling especially groggy after the night’s sleep he’d had. Dabi really could do a number on someone, huh?

Still, it was probably the most idiotic thing a member of the league of villains could do. Regardless of whether or not he only teleported into the room, visiting the home of a hero—one of the top heroes, no less—was extremely risky.

Hawks was in the middle of cooking some tamagoyaki when he heard Shouto begin stirring in the nest. He smiled to himself, glad that at least the kid had slept through the night without issue.

He made sure to make some of the breakfast for Shouto too, plating the tamagoyaki and carrying it out to the nest.

Shouto was sitting up, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he scanned the room. His gaze landed on Hawks, and then on breakfast. He sat up a little straighter as Hawks approached, holding out the plate for him to take.

Once Shouto had taken his plate, Hawks happily sat back down in the nest with his own, stuffing a bite into his mouth before the food could go cold.

They ate in silence, only the sound of utensils clanking against plates could be heard.

Hawks noted that Shouto was scratching a little; his skin must’ve started itching after burning himself with the hot water the previous night. Hawks wouldn’t be surprised if it started flaking.

In a weird way, it was reminiscent of Shigaraki. Though Hawks quickly shook that mental image out of his head, instead making a mental note to find the kid some cream so he didn’t irritate his skin more than it already was.

Hawks swallowed down the last of his breakfast discreetly, waiting until they were both finished to get up.

Shouto began to get up, but Hawks was faster, grabbing his dish and taking it to the sink before Shouto could think.

He strutted back in to see Shouto looking down into his lap, fiddling with a little stuffed animal thing.

Ah, Hawks recalled. That’s the thing Eraser’s student brought to the hospital.

“Court won’t be for another few hours.” Hawks said; he’d gotten the confirmation last night that court would take place just after lunch.

It wasn’t expected to take long since most of the witnesses had already been called. Today was really just for wrapping up the case and for the jury to give their final verdict.

Shouto nodded, opening his mouth as if to say something before closing it again. He seemed lost in thought.

Finally, after a few moments of contemplation, he glanced up at Hawks.

“What was it like sitting in the hospital?” He mumbled, so softly that Hawks had almost not heard him. “When I was… dying?”

Hawks frowned, wondering where that had come from all of a sudden, but chose not to bring that up. Instead, he glided over to the nest, sitting down and putting his hand to his chin in thought.

“Well, it was hard.” Hawks shrugged, glancing over to Shouto who seemed keen on not making eye contact. “We didn’t know if you would wake up, and you were flatlining like every hour. I won’t deny that it was hard. Probably one of the hardest things I’ve sat through.”

Shouto hung his head just slightly, and Hawks sighed, reaching out to ruffle his hair a bit.

“But, we had a little help.” He offered a smile when Shouto raised his head. “Someone brought things for us while we were sitting there, which was nice. And every time your heart would start beating again, it was like witnessing a miracle. More than anything, I was just praying that you would be okay; that you would come out of that.”

The look Shouto gave him made it seem like he hadn’t ever considered the fact that someone could be worried about him. It made Hawks want to wrap him in his wings and shield him from the rest of the world.

Still, Hawks managed to refrain; he couldn’t tell if the kid actually liked to be touched or not. He seemed to appreciate it when he was in need of comfort, but otherwise he responded rather stiffly.

Instead, Hawks chose to change the subject to a lighter one.

“So, what do you want to do until we leave?” Hawks crossed his legs together and tilted forward, leaning with his hands on his knees. “We’ve got a couple hours. Do you maybe want to continue our movie marathon?”

Honestly, they had seen almost all of the movies he owned. Dr. Eguchi had called the night before, asking if Shouto needed to see him. But Hawks figured Shouto needed a break from having to talk for a while.

Shouto sat quietly for a bit, seemingly mulling that thought over before he ended up nodding. Hawks smiled at him, stretching his wings and lifting himself from the nest.

He was sure Shouto would want to spend his time goofing off. That was, after all, Hawks’ favorite de-stressing tactic: worry about it early on, and spend the moments right before having fun and getting your mind off of it.

So Hawks popped in the next movie that had been on his list the previous night. He’d heard good things about this movie from Mirko, which didn’t exactly mean it could be trusted, but Shouto hadn’t seemed to mind the other movies she had recommended.

He sighed as he began skipping through the credits. Hopefully this wouldn’t just get Shouto’s mind off of everything, but also Hawks’ as well. Having to deal with not only the Endeavor and Shouto situation, but also the league and their messes on top of that…

Hawks was due for a vacation. He’d make sure to take one after the liberation army went underground and the mess with this case was resolved.

Aizawa couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the sight he had been met with this morning.

He had decided not to bother pushing his class the previous night, letting them stay up in the common room long after Fuyumi had left to get to bed. He wanted them to be able to unwind and have some fun, as court would undoubtedly take a lot out of them the following day.

What he had not expected to see, however, was his entire class in a giant pile of blankets and pillows, spread out on the floor sound asleep instead of having gone up to bed last night.

He shook his head as he stepped over Mina’s arm. He could reprimand them for this, since they technically broke curfew and the rules against boys and girls sleeping together.

But Aizawa wouldn’t. Aside from one student in particular—cough, Mineta —he trusted his class around each other and other people. Not to mention he knew that a couple of students wouldn’t even have to worry about that rule, just like he hadn’t needed to back in his high school days.

Aizawa almost groaned at that. Wow, if UA had had dorms during his school days, he would guarantee that he and Hizashi would’ve done something to get in trouble.

He made his way around his students carefully, so as to not wake any of them up aside from the particular student he had come to get.

He shook his problem child’s shoulder lightly; Problem Child Two, Midoriya Izuku.

Midoriya groaned, rolling over from where he was sleeping on his side onto his back to look up at Aizawa.

“Sensei…?”

He blinked the sleep from his eyes, pushing himself up from the floor. It was evident by his grimace that sleeping on the floor wasn’t as comfortable as it might’ve appeared to be.

“Your mom’s here.”

That certainly woke Midoriya up, as he shuffled until he was sitting on his knees.

“My mom?” He blinked again, rubbing one of his eyes. “What’s she doing here?”

“She’s outside.” Aizawa muttered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure none of the other students had been woken up; it was pretty early after all. “She said she brought you some things.”

Midoriya nodded, hoisting himself up and nearly stumbling over Satou, though he just managed to catch himself. Aizawa made sure to hold out his arm for Midoriya to steady himself while he was passing his sleeping classmates.

Aizawa watched as Midoriya made his way to the front doors of the dorm building, and he sighed. With that done, he turned to survey the room, wondering if he should wake up his students so they could at least move to their bedrooms.

He did a mental headcount—he always did; you would not believe how often these students either go missing or put themselves in danger when no one else is around—and found that, disregarding Shouto and Midoriya, he was missing two students.

He glanced around the room, but there was no sign of them. It wasn’t like these two to be involved in any of this Midoriya-and-Bakugou-type shit, so he was sure they were around here somewhere, not fighting.

He held his breath to keep his hearing from being obstructed as he listened until—finally—he heard a quiet, almost inaudible clanking coming from the kitchen.

He released his breath, stepping back over his students—withholding a chuckle at seeing Bakugou’s arms wrapped around Sero, which he would definitely deny later—and made his way over to the kitchen.

There he found them; Tokoyami was sitting on a stool leaning against the counter while Aoyama trudged over with a tea kettle, steam rising from the spout.

“You two are up early.”

Aoyama jumped a little at his voice, but Tokoyami just glanced over his shoulder. Aizawa supposed that having a sentient Quirk meant he was more or less used to having someone sneak up on him.

Both of them were clearly tired; Aoyama’s eyelids were drooping and his hair was frazzled, and Tokoyami’s feathers were sticking up at odd angles. Normally these two were the height of trying to manage their appearance; Aoyama was almost never too tired to style his hair.

“I hope we didn’t wake any of our classmates,” Aoyama murmured, setting the kettle on the counter and dropping down to retrieve cups. “We were trying to be quiet.”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “How long have you two been awake?”

“It is my fault, sensei.” Tokoyami muttered, fiddling nervously with a tea pouch between his fingers. Though he was kneeling where he could not be seen, Aoyama’s click of the tongue was still audible. “Last night, I was having trouble sleeping with Dark Shadow. I- uh, I’m used to sleeping with a small light on so I don’t have to worry about him.”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed about sleeping with a nightlight, Tokoyami-kun.” Aoyama said, his arm reaching out to place one cup on the counter. “I have to sleep with a trashcan next to my bed because sometimes my Quirk goes off in my sleep and gives me stomach cramps and such.”

Tokoyami frowned. “But that’s different.”

Another cup was set on the counter, Aoyama’s head still out of view. “Both of them are Quirk-related, though.”

Tokoyami shook his head, turning back to Aizawa as the soft clinking of dishes being put away continued.

“I would have gone to my room, but I really didn’t want to be alone.” He scrunched his shoulders and lowered his head sheepishly. It was a look Aizawa was unused to seeing on the usually so confident Tokoyami. “Aoyama is a light sleeper, so he noticed my struggling.”

The aforementioned student finally popped back up from below the counter, hair flying everywhere as it had become more disheveled from digging around in the cabinets.

“My sleep wasn’t all that restful, though it had nothing to do with being down here or having my Quirk cause problems.” His shoulders drooped; he dug into his cardigan pocket, and pulled out his own tea bag. “Sleep has been troublesome since this whole ordeal started. I’ve been anxious.”

Aizawa wanted to curse himself as he watched his students put their tea bags in their cups, Aoyama pouring the steaming water over them. He watched him set the kettle aside before steeping his tea.

Damn. His students were all taking this whole ordeal differently. He was used to people like Midoriya and Bakugou doing something rash or incredibly stupid, so he was less focused on the students like this; those who were having trouble sleeping, or who were suffering from heightened anxiety.

Aizawa felt awful for not being more vigilant to his quieter students.

“Do you want honey or anything like that?”

Tokoyami wordlessly shook his head at the question, Aoyama already turning to the other counter and grabbing the honey jar. He pulled open a drawer and took a spoon as well before turning back.

“Is there anything I can do for your anxiety?” Aizawa found himself asking. He wanted to tell them that it was okay; that this whole mess would be over soon and there would be no need to worry further.

But somewhere down inside him, he felt like he couldn’t promise that, couldn’t even make it sound convincing to himself.

Aoyama and Tokoyami shared a look before they both shook their heads.

“I don’t think so,” Aoyama shrugged his shoulders, pulling mindlessly at the string attached to his tea bag. “You’re already doing everything you can for Todoroki, and that’s enough for me right now.”

Tokoyami nodded in agreement, reaching for a few napkins as he pulled his tea bag out from his cup and set it aside.

“I believe it is a feeling that will not go away until our classmate is back with us.”

He took a long drag of his tea, nodding slightly as his eyes slid shut.

Aoyama smiled at his classmate as he pulled out his own tea bag from his cup.

“When are we leaving, sensei?”

“Don’t worry about that.” Aizawa shook his head. “I’ll let you guys know maybe an hour before we leave. You guys won’t have to worry about anything until then.”

Aoyama nodded, taking a sip of his own tea and humming pleasantly.

“What the actual fuck?!”

Ah. It appeared that Bakugou had woken up.

Aoyama smiled as he took another sip of his tea, and Tokoyami merely shook his head.

“Well,” Aizawa exhaled heavily. “Let me know if you guys need anything.”

They both nodded as he stepped away from the counter, making his way out of the kitchen to observe the rest of his class.

Midoriya still seemed to be outside, but apparently Bakugou’s outburst had woken a few of the lighter sleepers. Iida seemed to be searching for his glasses in the pile of blankets while Kaminari was rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Bakugou was trying to stomp out of the pile while also trying to keep from stepping on any of his classmates. Sero had both of his hands clapped over his mouth as his shoulders trembled with withheld laughter.

“Aw, Bakubro got to cuddle Sero and not me?” Kaminari glanced over at Bakugou tiredly. “Man, why’re you mad about that? Sero’s got great arms-”

“We weren’t cuddling!”

“Hey, don’t be so loud!” Kaminari whispered harshly, putting a finger to his lips.

“Kaminari is right,” Iida muttered, furiously wiping the lenses of his glasses on his shirt. “Be more considerate of our classmates; you don’t want to wake them up.”

Bakugou scoffed, rolling his eyes so hard Aizawa almost thought they would get stuck in the back of his head. He crossed his arms and glared at those who had woken up, but he notably did not make any more loud noise.

Aizawa huffed a silent laugh as his students continued to bicker. At least he knew that while they were struggling, they remained resilient.

They were good kids. They’d make even better heroes.

“Thanks so much, Mom!”

Midoriya went to hug his mother, but was beaten to it by her wrapping her arms around him first. He didn’t mind, snuggling his face into her shoulder even though he now had to bend down to reach.

“You really didn’t have to do all this.”

His mom sniffled, her hands absentmindedly running over his back in a soothing gesture.

“Oh, Izuku, honey.” She gave him a squeeze before pulling away. “You’ve been so stressed lately, with everything going on with your friend. You’ve been so busy trying to be the hero that you never stopped for someone to take care of you instead.”

Midoriya gave her his best reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Mom. Really, I’m fine.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to sit in court again without a proper lunch.” She huffed, eyeballing the bento in his hands that she had just brought to him. “You said you wanted to stay at the dorms instead of coming home this weekend, so that there wouldn’t be any trouble getting you to the courthouse; so I decided to bring something to you instead.”

Midoriya reached forward to give her another, quicker hug. He pulled away and smiled at her once again.

“Thank you, Mom. This means a lot.”

His mother nodded, biting her lip.

“Say, Izuku,” she hummed, bringing her hands in front of her and fiddling with them. “If your friend wins his case, where will he go?”

“I don’t know.” Midoriya admitted, trying to shrug it off, though the effort proved to be futile. This was something he had also been stressing over. “I guess the court will decide where he ends up and who he stays with from now on.”

His mom nodded, bringing a hand up to pull a little at the edges of her hair.

“Well, if your friend ever needs a place to stay,” she took his hands in hers—a reassuring gesture. “He’s always welcome at our home.”

Midoriya felt tears prick at his eyes. No, he would not cry now.

“Thanks, Mom.” He gave her a watery smile. “I’m sure he’d be so grateful to hear that.”

She nodded, pressing his knuckles to her lips and giving them a kiss before letting go.

“Well, you should get back inside. It rained a little this morning, and if it starts up again I wouldn’t want you getting wet. You could get sick.”

Midoriya chuckled, nodding. “Of course. Drive safe!”

She nodded back in return. “Good luck, sweetie”

He waited until he saw her reach the end of the path before he turned back inside.

Upon closing the door, he heard more noise; a few of the others must have gotten up while he was outside.

Midoriya walked to the kitchen counter to set down his bento, noting Aizawa leaning against the wall a few meters away. He smiled at Aoyama and Tokoyami before he turned away from the counter to see the rest of his classmates.

While the majority still seemed to be sleeping, there were a few that had woken up.

Iida was trying to disentangle himself from the pile without stepping on anyone—Midoriya had been there. Kacchan was muttering something angry as he and Kaminari seemed to be in an intense staring contest. Sero made direct eye contact with Midoriya and waggled his eyebrows.

“They’re fighting over me.”

“We are not fighting over you, Tape-Face!” Kacchan hissed; Midoriya was a little surprised that he was managing to keep his volume in check.

“Speak for yourself, Bakubro.” Kaminari grinned in return. “The winner gets cuddles with Sero for a week!”

“I don’t want-!”

Aizawa clearing his throat cut off Kacchan’s angry cry; any louder, and he probably would’ve woken someone else up.

Kacchan turned away from Kaminari, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Kaminari let out a quiet whoop as he tackled Sero.

“I won!”

Sero rolled his eyes. “For real though, Bakugou spooning me was hella comfy.”

Kacchan’s entire face went red, and Midoriya could visibly see him clench his jaw to keep from yelling at them.

Midoriya let out a small chuckle, at which Kacchan sent him a glare. Though it didn’t last long, as he turned on his heel and stomped over to the elevator.

“I’m going up, dipshits.” He spat. “Don’t bother me.”

“Bye, Kacchan!” Midoriya made sure to wave, though he only received a scowl in return as the elevator doors closed.

Midoriya caught Aizawa rolling his eyes as he let out a heaving sigh.

“Well, make sure the rest of them get up before we have to leave.” He said, peeling himself off of the wall and making his way toward the dormitory doors.

“If you need anything, let me know.”

“Yes, Aizawa-sensei.”

Just like that, he was gone, the door shutting behind him.

“Midoriya-kun.”

Midoriya turned to Iida, who had finally managed to escape the pile of their classmates and had walked over.

“What were you outside for?”

“Ah,” Midoriya brightened, pointing over at the kitchen counter. “My mom brought me a bento for later!”

“Aw, I wish my mom would do that.” Kaminari made a face, apparently already content with stealing Sero’s cuddles as he was practically laying on the latter. “The only food she makes me in bentos are vegetables.”

Sero chuckled, nudging Kaminari with his elbow. “You could do with eating a few more vegetables here and there.”

Kaminari stuck out his tongue. “Absolutely not.”

Iida shook his head, turning his attention back to Midoriya.

“Well, I am going to go up to start getting ready. Since we all are up, I suggest we do the same.”

“Oui!” And Aoyama came gliding out of the kitchen, his sparkle seemingly not diminished despite the obvious exhaustion on his face. “I must prepare myself for a full day of twinkling! Adieu!”

Tokoyami followed him up the stairs silently, giving them all a wave as he passed.

Midoriya decided to follow them up. After all, he really should get ready as soon as possible, so that he would be ready to go when the time came.

He sighed as he opened the door to his room and stepped in. He hoped today was the last day of court, for the sake of his classmates—especially Shouto.

For his sake, he hoped this whole mess of a situation ended today.

Hawks put a hand on Shouto’s shoulder as he sat down in the hard wooden chair. Damn, he wished they had more comfortable seating in courtrooms.

Hawks was glad that Shouto appeared to be doing better since yesterday, though he was still scratching at his skin—he really must’ve irritated it. Hawks had given him a cream that he used whenever he and Dabi fought—on the field or off—but it hadn’t seemed to help him much.

Hawks was still nearly vibrating with the knowledge that he hadn’t yet been able to hand over to the Hero Commission—they would be so greedy over the knowledge that the entire Liberation Army is planning on going underground for the better part of a few months.

Still, he couldn’t afford to get involved with the Hero Commission quite yet; he was painfully aware that they were on Endeavor’s side in this case. They were more worried about losing another number one hero than they were about the safety of that hero’s kid. They were scrambling, desperately trying to protect their reputation with his case.

Frankly, it was times and circumstances like this that made Hawks almost understand where people like the league of villains were coming from.

Shouto was very slightly trembling; it was so light that it wasn’t visible, but Hawks could feel it through where his hand rested on the kid’s shoulder.

He squeezed his shoulder gently in an attempt to give him some last minute comfort, but he wasn’t sure how well it was received.

Hawks made eye contact with Aizawa as his class filed in. Shouto’s teacher nodded at him as he ushered his students into the rows of seats.

Hawks casted a glance at Shouto, who still adamantly refused to turn his head and look his classmates in the eye. Although he hadn’t said anything about it to Hawks, he figured that the kid was ashamed of himself.

Oh, how Hawks just wanted to wrap his arms around his kid and tell him that he had nothing to be ashamed of. He was a kid dealing with trauma, and people snap in different ways.

Hawks not-so-subtly flexed his wings to shield the view of Shouto when Endeavor stepped in the room. Damn, he could have never known that his once favorite hero would turn into someone he couldn’t even look at anymore.

Why did Endeavor have to be an abuser? Why couldn’t he have been a decent parent and husband, instead of abusing his wife and kids and lying to the faces of everyone who thought he was a hero?

Hawks sat down, pointedly not looking at Endeavor and instead giving Shouto all of his attention. The kid, after all, looked about seconds away from possibly throwing up.

“Hey, kiddo. It’s all going to be okay.” He offered a reassuring smile when Shouto turned to look at him, apprehension evident in his face. “This is really just going to be a casual court day, just wrapping up from yesterday. Everything should be fine.”

Shouto just nodded, as though he was not too convinced by Hawks’ speech. Well, there wasn’t much that Hawks could do about that. He just hoped that today went by as quickly and painlessly as possible, for the kid’s sake.

Just as everyone got settled in their seats, the jury filed in, each taking their seats on the side of the room. The judge glanced at them, but-

Was that a new judge? Yesterday, the judge had been a stoutly woman with stern features. Today was a man maybe a couple years younger than she had been, wearing a smile.

Hawks hadn’t done this very often, but he was sure that switching out judges in the middle of a court proceeding was unusual, to say the least.

Nonetheless, court proceeded as usual, and Endeavor’s lawyer stood up, making his way to the center of the room. Hawks might have been imagining it, but he almost swore he saw the lawyer exchange a small nod with the new judge.

Wait.

Oh, no…

“The defense would like to call Todoroki Shouto to the stand.”

Shit.

Chapter Text

Shouto would swear the room was filled with white noise, as he could barely hear anything for a few moments. Hawks was touching him, their lawyer was standing, and looked rather angry, but the judge—was that the same judge?—just waved him off.

Shouto was beckoned forward, and Hawks seemed to reluctantly nudge him forward towards the witness stand.

Shouto ambled to the stand numbly; he was so, so cold. He could barely feel anything but the cold wind hitting his still-burning face. Damn, that shower was the absolute worst idea. He wished he could go back in time and slap himself, or stab himself in his stupid face.

Stupid, stupid, stupid- why am I like this? I hate myself-

But nothing could stop it from happening; he sat down and faced the entire courtroom. Shit, this was the first time he’d had to actually look at his classmates’ faces. They all looked worried, clenching fists and biting nails.

If Shouto could choose when he dies, now would be it.

Endeavor’s lawyer stepped to the center of the room, looking directly at him. The look he gave Shouto was cold, and made Shouto even colder.

“I know this is a stressful time,” the lawyer began, a softer smile taking over his face; or was it fake? “So I just want to focus on one thing.”

Shouto found himself nodding; whatever would move this along faster, or he would swear to jump off a cliff as soon as it was over.

The lawyer hummed, folding his hands leisurely in front of himself.

“I want to talk about the hospital visit you had, when you were first removed from your father’s care.”

And Shouto froze. No, he couldn’t talk about that. That was- that was when he had tried to-

…and at this point, he kind of wanted to try again. This was the absolute worst, Endeavor was glaring right at him and he couldn’t get away.

Still, Shouto managed to nod. If there was a way to get out of this without looking like a nutcase, he would try. He didn’t want them to lose the case because he had a meltdown on the stand.

The lawyer smiled coldly, taking a step closer.

“My client was barred from seeing you, despite the fact that you were in the hospital.” The lawyer clicked his tongue. “We haven’t received confirmation on the basis of why you were hospitalized; only that my client was not notified, denied access, and you were put under watch.”

Shouto managed a shaky nod. Denying anything would be pointless, after all. Or so he would tell himself. He was only half listening, trying to get the ringing in his ears to go away before he started scratching his skin off. His sleeves rubbing over the still-sensitive cuts were starting to itch horribly.

“Now, we don’t know what you were doing in that hospital, only that several pro heroes were present as the staff was worried about your mental health. And I think we all know that the foremost reason why patients in hospitals are put under mental health watch.”

Shouto felt himself go rigid. Surely, the lawyer wasn’t actually going to address what Shouto had done… there wasn’t a way he could’ve known, right?

…right?

“You were posed as a threat to yourself, and yet we have no confirmation of what you actually did, if anything.”

The lawyer shook his head, looking at the jurors as if they were all in on some big secret.

“Honestly, I don’t think anything happened.” The lawyer turned back to Shouto. “See, you look perfectly fine. Maybe a little shaken up, but any liar would be when called out on their false testimonies.”

Shouto’s mouth went dry all the way down his throat. He wasn’t a liar. Why would he lie about any of this? Why would his siblings lie?

“If I had to guess,” the lawyer hummed, looking at Shouto with a sinister smile. “I would say you checked yourself in to get attention from other pro heroes, get fawned over by the hospital staff, and convince them to battle my client in court over something you know he hasn’t done.”

Shouto was as cold as ice. Don’t go further, don’t go further, don’t go-

 “You are mentally troubled, yes, but not towards yourself as you want to seem.” The lawyer shook his head, clicking his tongue in a disappointed way. “Instead, you are seeking to cause a stir and get yourself some screen time by spreading rumors and lies about my client.”

Shouto shook his head, opening his mouth to try and say something, anything, that would help. But no, he couldn’t make a sound, and- what was this feeling? The sheer panic seizing his chest, choking him until his vision began to spiral.

No, please. I want to leave. I want to go home. I want…

Shouto didn’t know what he wanted. He just knew he didn’t want to be here.

Shouto was vaguely aware of his lawyer shooting to his feet. "Objection! Badgering!"

"Overruled." The judge’s gavel banged, hard and absolute. An irrefutable rejection. One that would doom Shouto.

“Clearly, this is just a troubled teenager looking for attention that he cannot get constantly, as his father is busy being the number one pro hero and saving us all.” Endeavor’s lawyer turned back to face the court, no longer interested in the mess he had made of Shouto. “His lashing out is a sign of poor schooling on the part of his teacher.”

And Shouto could only stare; he had no words to offer in place of his panic.

“You wanted sympathy, and to lash out at your father.” The lawyer continued, though his words seemed more muddled to Shouto by the minute. “We do have testimonies of you acting out against your father before, most notably when you were shown defying him and making a mockery of his Quirk by refusing to use your left side.”

No, no. Shouto hadn’t been able to use his left side because every time he tried all he could think about was what Endeavor had forced onto him in that damn training room-

It hadn’t been until Midoriya had reminded him that his power didn’t have to be associated with Endeavor that he had considered he could remove them from each other.

Shouto moved his gaze to the seats, making eye contact with Midoriya across the room. His friend looked close to tears, hands clasped over his mouth as they visibly shook.

Ever so slightly, Shouto felt his panic ebb away, enough that he remembered where he was and what was going on.

That’s right. Shouto had people who cared about him now; people who believed him, even though they had no solid reason to. They believed Shouto because they believed in him as a person.

Shouto wished they could talk for him, or for the lawyer. That would make the situation infinitely better.

“Members of the jury,” Shouto found himself looking back at the lawyer, smiling leisurely as if he wasn’t currently uprooting every foundation Shouto had tried to build for himself. “What we have here is a troubled teenager who is confused, trying to slander the good name of our number one hero in order to gain some attention, or sick gratification.”

That ice cold feeling was back. We’re going to lose.

“My client has done nothing but try to parent this boy; he is a teenager going through a rebellious phase, is all.”

I’m not going home, am I?

“I’m sure we know all about teenagers and their cruel new ways of getting petty revenge. As you can see, Todoroki Shouto has nothing to say; he has no rebuttal because he can’t deny his falsehoods to this court.”

I’m going back to hell.

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

Shouto’s ears were ringing again, and tears were beginning to form in his eyes, barely. But this time glancing at Midoriya didn’t help. He tried looking at the faces of the rest of his classmates, but they all looked as horrified as he felt.

Shouto recognized the lawyer on his side fumbling, glancing between Shouto and the jury and the opposing lawyer. Shouto felt his chest sink; he was as panicked and lost as Shouto.

“If the prosecution has nothing more…” The judge paused, and Shouto felt the room go silent as his lawyer froze. The judge nodded, turning to Shouto. “You may reclaim your seat.”

Shouto stood up on shaky legs, face pale and frame weak. Surely everyone in the room could tell how sick he felt.

I want to die.

Shouto wanted to sob; he thought that was something he was over. But he supposed healing can’t be rushed and ignored.

He sat down heavily in his seat, not registering Hawks trying to comfort him in any way. No, instead he focused numbly on the judge, giving him a gentle look before turning to the jury.

“Is the jury ready to pass their verdict?”

There was shuffling, and Shouto found himself forcibly glancing to look at them. He wanted to see if there was any last bit of hope for him…

“Uh, Your Honor.”

One stood up, looking as though he were about to puke as Endeavor’s glare focused directly on him. The judge seemed to be giving the juror a look that Shouto couldn’t quite place.

Shouto felt something inside him die, resigning himself to the rest of his body soon to follow as well.

The juror who stands is shaking, obviously weak-willed. “We find that there is not enough substantial evidence for us to be able to pass a verdict; only biased witness testimonies.”

Biased? Of course Shouto was biased! He was being abused by Endeavor! But that didn’t mean his statements didn’t mean anything!

"The jury leaves the decision to the judge."

“Very well.” The judge smiled, nodding in acceptance. "Todoroki Enji shall be cleared of all charges, due to—as stated by the jury—insubstantial evidence."

Silence rang throughout the courtroom. Nothing could be heard; not even the sound of breathing.

Shouto wanted to be mad, or scared. He wanted to tremble and cry and scream…

But he just felt the resignation fill out his chest, settling deeper into him like an eerie calm.

He didn’t want to go back to Endeavor, but it was… familiar. It was something he knew well. At the very least, this whole shitshow was over, right? After a few rough ‘sparring’ sessions—or beatings; whatever they were called nowadays—Endeavor would have sufficiently taught Shouto a lesson. Then he would go back to focusing solely on training.

Still, looking at Endeavor’s smug look, Shouto couldn’t help but wish Endeavor would beat him so horribly it would kill him.

So we’re back to this, huh?

Shouto felt more tears prick at his eyes.

And it had been going so well…

And there it is: the verdict Dabi had been dreading.

After everything Shouto had been put through by this man, this monster, why had Dabi thought he could escape? Dabi had only managed to leave that godforsaken household due to the accidental faking of his death.

Dabi couldn’t believe that he was the lucky one in his family.

The court began the dismissal, and Dabi managed to catch a glimpse of Fuyumi and Natsuo; both of them were crying, hands either covering their mouths or their whole face. Natsuo looked a lot worse for wear than Fuyumi, though as the big sister she was always good at controlling her emotions for her younger siblings.

But Dabi knew; Fuyumi was devastated.

The camera decided to fuck with them all and pan over to Shouto, who was sitting back at his table next to Hawks. Compared to when he was being questioned, he looked much calmer and more civil, back straightened and chin held high.

But his hands were shaking, as were his shoulders. He was staring down at his lap, his face stoic and unreadable, but Dabi knew what to look for.

His eyes were dead. There was absolutely nothing there.

Please, don’t be planning another suicide attempt. Dabi found himself praying. I don’t know what…

Shouto looked like a corpse. A walking corpse waiting to die again. And when the camera panned over once more…

Fucking Enji and his lawyer were smirking. Looking so goddamn pleased. The lawyer winked at the judge who passed, and Enji patted his lawyer’s shoulder.

He looked over to Shouto, beckoning him over like a dog. The screen showed Shouto hunkering down, but nonetheless he slid from his seat and walked stiffly over to Enji.

Shouto looked pretty damn close to tears.

And fucking Enji. He had won, smug bastard. He now had court permission to keep abusing Shouto. He now had court permission to get away with it.

And no one would ever believe or try to help Shouto again, because of that smug bastard with a collar around his son’s neck and the leash in hand.

Dabi felt his anger rise too quickly—much too quickly—until it snapped.

That’s it.

“Where are you going?”

Dabi hardly registered Toga’s question as he grabbed Compress and Twice, all but dragging them out of the lounge.

I’m done being patient. You wanted a fight, Enji? Well, now you’re going to get one.

“Dabi!” Compress gasped, desperately trying to dig his heels into the carpet as Dabi kept hauling his friends behind him, dead set on his path. “What are you doing?”

He stopped suddenly, releasing his grip on the two of them as he spun on his heel to face them both.

“You two,” He gestured at both of them, “are going to help me with something.”

The two of them shared a look, seemingly reluctant to agree or refute. But, finally, Compress pulled his work gloves on, and Twice yanked his mask over his head. Both actions were a big thumbs-up for Dabi.

He nodded. “Perfect.”

Aizawa intercepted Shouto before he made it to Endeavor’s side, Hawks following closely behind.

“Don’t worry, Shouto.” He tried to grip the kid’s shoulders reassuringly, but he wasn’t even sure if his student had registered his presence at all. “It’s not over. We won’t let them win like this. We’ll fight this until-”

Aizawa was cut off by Shouto’s grip on his shoulder, tugging him and Hawks into a quick embrace that nearly knocked the air from his lungs from the sheer surprise.

“Thank you.” Shouto pulled away, a small resigned smile on his face. Aizawa couldn’t tell if the expression was sincere or not. “But you’ve done enough. I didn’t think we’d get this far. This is enough.”

“Shouto.” Endeavor’s voice was a commandment; it was not to be ignored, even in a crowded room. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t do it, Shouto.” Aizawa shook his head adamantly. “We can still-”

“No, sensei.” Shouto shook his head slowly, as if already having resigned himself to this outcome—he probably had. “We can’t.”

Shouto turned to his father, and surely everyone in the room could see the fear in his eyes. Endeavor reached out a hand towards Shouto, who sucked in an anguished breath as he stepped forward, flinching when Endeavor’s hand pressed against his back.

Endeavor ushered him out of the courthouse, pushing through the press.

Aizawa hurriedly turned to Hawks.

“Stay here and watch my students, will you?”

He didn’t wait for his response as he followed closely behind Endeavor to watch him and Shouto walk to their car.

When Aizawa had passed the front steps, Endeavor had turned around to give a quick statement to the press, and just as quickly a wall of blue flame scorched between them and Shouto.

Everyone reacted immediately, turning to assess the situation when the flames cleared. And when they did clear…

“Dabi!”

Sure enough, the flame villain stood there, Shouto himself nowhere to be seen. The car behind him was half melted by the heat, the driver scrambling out and away from the vehicle.

Dabi flashed a manic smile, picking up a blue marble by his foot.

“Y’know, it really is a shame it had to come to this, but I won’t let you win again.”

“Return Shouto this instant!” Endeavor demanded, planting his feet in defiance.

“I don’t think so.” Dabi shook his head amusedly. “You see, I can’t in good conscience send him back to you. I had been hoping the chicken or court system would pull through for poor Shouto,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “But I should’ve known not to put any faith in heroes. I’ll have you know that this kind of bullshit is why I hate you.”

Endeavor all but growled: “What do you want?!”

“Nothing you could give, as you just proved.” He smiled serenely, sighing. This was probably the calmest Aizawa had seen him. “I’m just going to do your job and make sure the kid’s safe.”

“How could you keep him safe, villain?!” Endeavor spat, malice clear in his tone.

“Oh, we’re doing that, are we?” Dabi raised an eyebrow, his smile turning into a cold grin. “How exactly are you keeping him safe, heroes?”

“Return him to me this instant!” Endeavor commanded, taking a step forward. “I am his father!”

Dabi scoffed. “You and I both know you’ve done nothing to earn that title.”

Endeavor glowered. “You have no right to speak to me in such a way-”

“Oh, I don’t have the right!” Dabi cackled, sounding more hysteric than usual as his eyes widened in amusement. “That’s rich, really! You think I give a shit about what I have the right to do? Shove it right back up your ass, Enji!”

He turned from the crowd, patting the melted car’s hood.

“Get us out of here, Compress!” He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “I am sick of these heroes.”

He tossed the marble over his head, and promptly melted into a pile of mush. Aizawa couldn’t see where Compress had been hiding, but he jumped into view and spat black liquid.

Several pros, Aizawa included, jumped up to catch him, but were too late; Compress ended up disappearing into the mass.

“He has Shouto!” Endeavor roared, several cameramen and reporters taking a few steps back at the sheer force of his flames. “The League of Villains has attacked my family!”

Fuyumi collapsed to her knees, her hand clapped over her mouth.

“Oh, Shouto…”

“Don’t pretend to care about Shouto!” Endeavor spat, whaling on his poor daughter. “You sick children tried to remove him from me, his father! He is gone because of you!”

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Natsuo cried, shoving his way through the crowd and stomping up to him, pointing an accusing finger into his father’s face. “Were you even listening to Dabi? He took Shouto because of you! You fucking rat!”

Fuyumi took her hand from her trembling lips, forcing out a cry.

“Natsuo-”

“Is it bad that I’m not worried?” Natsuo’s face was one of hysterics, almost as unhinged as Dabi had been in a weirdly familiar way.

“A villain just kidnapped my baby brother, but I’m just relieved that he’s not going home with you!” Natsuo laughed; the kind of laugh that someone on the brink of having a breakdown would have. “Someone tell me I’m crazy!”

“You’re not, Natsuo.” Fuyumi mumbled, flinching when Endeavor’s glare turned back on her. “Frankly, I’m a little relieved too. Something inside me believes that Dabi was genuine; that he meant it when he said he’d keep Shouto safe.”

Endeavor scoffed. “Both of you are sick.”

“Maybe,” Natsuo snapped, whirling back to face his father. “But then you’re diseased.”

Endeavor’s face pinched, his flames rising in temperature. “Why, you-”

“Yeah, go on! I dare you!” Natsuo was full-on laughing hysterically now, a wide and confident grin smothered on his face. He seemed to have lost all apprehension. “Are you going to beat me like you do Shouto? In front of all these cameras? Come on, Enji! You’ve never held back before!”

“Don’t you ever-”

“Do it. You won’t.” Natsuo stopped smiling, glare turning dark and brooding. There was not an ounce of love for Endeavor in that look. “Not in front of your precious publicity. But you know what I’m going to do?”

He raked his hands through his hair, letting out a long sigh as he stretched his shoulders. “I’m going to go visit Mom in the hospital, and tell her that Shouto’s safe. That he’s away from you, so how much worse can things really be?”

Those around them merely watched as Natsuo helped Fuyumi to her feet and looped his arm with hers. She gave no refusal as they walked to their car and got in, peeling out of the parking lot without much grace. Aizawa would’ve loved nothing more than to do the same.

If he hadn’t just watched his student get kidnapped by the league, that is.

Oh, shit. His students. Were they still inside? He’d told Hawks to wait with them to keep them from causing trouble; surely Midoriya or Bakugou would do something reckless to Endeavor and get Shouto in even more trouble.

Damn it, his kids were going to go feral.

That is, if Aizawa didn’t first. Endeavor was yelling, pointing and directing nearby pro heroes with whatever instructions were in that tiny little brain of his.

Aizawa, however, knew that as Shouto was a student at UA, Nezu had priority over how to proceed with this kidnapping, just like when Bakugou was kidnapped.

Well, asking Bakugou about his experience might ease Aizawa’s conscience a little. After all, his student tended to act tough, but he had stated that they hadn’t done anything to him. They had tried to feed him, though he had refused. So at least the league didn’t misuse their hostages.

Or perhaps it depended on what the hostages were kidnapped for. And honestly, Aizawa wasn’t sure if Dabi was telling the truth about wanting to keep Shouto safe. He had no reason to trust a villain, but something deep in his gut told him that Dabi hadn’t seemed to be lying at all…

That thought sort of worried him though. Why would a villain be on their side? Now of all times?

But these were all questions for later. He could always ask Nezu about what he thinks. For now, Aizawa had to check up on and inform his students about what had just happened.

Rei felt herself trembling on her bed, leaning over onto her knees as she shook with tears and cries.

She should’ve known not to put hope in her Shouto being rescued…

She wanted to believe that there was some way to salvage this, some way to still protect her precious baby boy. She wanted there to be a magic fix-it, a savior that would take him away and keep him safe.

But she knew that nothing of the sort would happen. At this point, she was just fooling herself.

She heard a knock on the door, and quickly tried to steele herself. If the nurses saw her like this, she’d go back on her heavy medication that made her days foggy at best.

She was glad that she had turned off the TV with the program on it before having her meltdown; the nurses had told her not to watch it, and she didn’t want to see their looks of I told you so.

However, when the door creaked open, the nurse standing there didn’t seem to be there for her at all.

“Rei-san?”

Rei blinked, nodding in acknowledgement. She didn’t trust herself to speak quite yet.

“Um,” the nurse pinched her cheek with her fingers. “Your children are here to see you.”

Rei stilled for a moment, taking a few moments to process that information before she found herself nodding. Yes, she wanted to see them. They were probably just as distraught as she was.

The nurse nodded in return, stepping back out and shutting the door behind her.

Once again, Rei’s room was plunged into silence, only broken by the agonizing ticking of her bedside clock and her pounding heartbeat until her door was reopened a few moments later.

“Hey, Mom.”

She turned to face Natsuo and Fuyumi, who both looked worse for wear. Their faces crumpled upon looking at her; oh, what a mess she must have made of herself.

“You were watching the case, huh?”

Rei found herself nodding, patting the spot beside her on the bed. Having nothing better to do, the two of them stepped further into the room as the door shut behind them.

Fuyumi quickly came to sit beside Rei, grabbing onto her gently and taking her into a hug. Natsuo pulled up a chair in front of the bed, facing both of them as he slumped over towards his knees.

“We’re sorry, Mom.” He muttered, voice tired yet angry.

Rei had used to be scared of her children’s anger, as she had equated it with Enji’s. However, she now realized that Enji was possessed by a cold anger, a leeching presence where nothing else could live. The anger of her children resembled more of a flame, a fire that could not be quelled by mere complacence.

They were really nothing like Enji. She was ashamed to have ever once thought of them as being like him.

“We couldn’t save Shouto.”

Rei found herself shaking her head as she brought her hand up to Fuyumi’s head. She stroked Fuyumi’s hair as she reached as far forward as she could to pat Natsuo’s knee in reassurance.

“None of this is your fault,” she whispered softly, offering them her best comforting smile when they both looked up to face her. “There was nothing you could have done.”

“Don’t think like that, Mom.” Fuyumi murmured dejectedly, moving to sit up as she pulled away from Rei’s embrace. “If we had fought harder, tried harder to beat Dad, we might have succeeded. I have to believe that we at least had a chance at something, so this wasn’t all for nothing.”’

“Yeah.” Natsuo nodded in agreement with her. “It would be harder to swallow if this whole endeavor had been useless; something we never could have won in the first place.”

Rei wanted to admire the tenacity and hope of her children. But she couldn’t help but worry more; at some point, they were going to have to face the fact that Enji was a force that had been allowed to become too powerful for any foe to oppose. Even his own family.

However, a part of her wondered if that was wholly true. Perhaps she was the only one who saw it this way, and there had been a place for hope all along. That part of her must have shriveled up and died a long time ago.

“How’s Shouto doing?” Rei found herself asking. “Have you had the chance to talk to him yet?”

“Mom…” Fuyumi breathed out softly. Rei felt her stiffened significantly against her side.

“Something happened.” Natsuo muttered as he took a deep sigh. “Something you should know.”

Rei cocked her head, watching the reactions of her children with confusion.

“Oh? What about?”

“It’s…” Fuyumi took a deep breath, clenching her fists into the fabric of her pants as she faced Rei.

“It’s about Shouto.”

“Kidnapped by Dabi of the League of Villains mere moments after the final verdict of the Todoroki v. UA trial had been announced-”

Hawks shut off the screen of his TV, frantically dialing Dabi’s number for the umpteenth time since he’d arrived back at his penthouse.

“Dammit.”

The call didn’t connect, and Hawks was once again left with Dabi’s stupid automated voicemail. He ended the call, throwing his phone onto the couch cushions as he began to pace.

Damn, he hadn’t been this nervous in a while. He was almost unused to this feeling. Ever since he’d begun infiltrating the League of Villains, he’d felt almost immune to this level of anxiety.

No one from the league was picking up. Not only Dabi, but Hawks had tried Toga, Twice, Spinner—hell, even Shigaraki— No one was picking up.

He had half a mind to rush over to the mansion and demand to know what was going on, why they had kidnapped Shouto, but deep down he felt he already knew.

The league had been following this case since day one. They had seemed more passionate about it than almost anyone. Hawks guessed it was because the outcome of this particular case was something that could shake the very foundation of hero society, against the number one hero himself.

Besides, it wasn’t like Hawks could just barge in there unannounced. What if he walked into the base and right into Shouto? How was he supposed to explain to the poor kid why he was there at the league of villains’ hideout, and why the villains present trusted him like a comrade?

Short answer: without blowing his cover, he couldn’t assure Shouto of anything.

Hawks had to be smart about this. The Hero Commission would definitely want him to investigate the inner workings and motives of the kidnapping. Endeavor would be itching to find out any information Hawks knew so that he could bust Shouto out. But Hawks was hesitant to do anything.

The Hero Commission had been on Endeavor’s side; they probably knew about the treatment of his family for a long time. Who even knew how long they’d known. And they didn’t care. Hell, they might’ve even played a part in covering it up to avoid a scandal.

Hawks didn’t want Endeavor or the Hero Commission involved, as that would send Shouto back into that horrible way of life. However, the heroes he did trust to help Shouto—mostly his teachers at UA and a few from the billboard charts—weren’t in the know about his infiltration mission, nor could he allow them to find out.

Hawks was basically alone if he wanted answers and a plan to get Shouto out. And since he couldn’t just bust him out without angering the league—who he supposedly is loyal to—he’d need to find a way to convince them to let Shouto go.

Hawks sighed. That certainly wouldn’t be an easy feat to pull off.

Still, there wasn’t much else he could do besides rely on that half-assed plan forming in the back of his mind.

Whatever. Since he needed to make sure he and Shouto didn’t cross paths, he couldn’t visit the base until he was able to get in touch with one of the league members. Once it was safe for him to visit the base, he’d do his best to find out their motives for the kidnapping and talk them into releasing Shouto.

He groaned, falling back onto his couch as he picked up his phone again.

Judging from how no one had even looked at any of his messages, nor had he received any confirmation that they’d listened to any of his voicemails, it could be a few hours—hell, maybe even a day or two—before he heard back from them.

Hawks guessed he would just have to sit tight until the time came. Not that he had ever been good at sitting still.

“You did fucking what?”

To put it lightly, Tomura was not happy with Dabi. More accurately, it could be said that he was completely and utterly pissed.

Dabi was trying to explain himself—he honestly hadn’t really thought that far ahead when he’d gone to pick up Shouto; he didn’t really think he’d get that far—but he had no idea how to properly form a coherent thought that he could relay back to Tomura.

Tomura, who was fuming beyond belief.

Dabi had only seen Tomura get this pissed at people who opposed him, such as stupid heroes or reporters, people who got in his way. To be on the receiving end of such anger was something the league was almost unfamiliar with.

Speaking of, the rest of the league was sitting on the couch and chairs behind them, all of them together in the lounge. They were stuck there, immobile, until Tomura dismissed them.

“I came all the way back from Jaku hospital,” Tomura bit out, his voice brittle and oh so close to snapping with barely restrained anger. “To find that you kidnapped a fucking child. And not just any child, but the number one hero’s fucking hero kid!”

Dabi flinched at the raise in Tomura’s voice. There was half a chance he’d get dusted right now. But, if it was for the price of saving Shouto, Dabi supposed he’d take it over letting him stay with Endeavor.

Besides, it wasn’t a bad way to go. From speculation of his own and of others, it was assumed that death by Tomura’s decay Quirk was relatively painless unless he stopped it from spreading before it killed you.

Tomura took a step back, pinching the bridge of his nose as he inhaled shakily. Dabi’s knees hurt from kneeling in front of him for the better part of a half hour—most of which had been uncomfortably silent glaring from his boss—but he wouldn’t dare move; not until he was given permission.

Finally, Tomura crossed his arms, looking not only at Dabi, but at the rest of the group as well.

“Is the kid going back?”

Dabi clenched his fists resting on his knees, waiting until Tomura looked back at him to shake his head.

“Not until I fix what Endeavor messed up.”

Tomura sighed, but the anger seemed to be slipping out of him as each moment passed; his shoulders were relaxing more, and his jaw seemed less taut than previously. Dabi almost couldn’t believe how fast Tomura had seemed to calm down after looking about ready to murder his whole team before.

“Since you asshats didn’t think far enough ahead to formulate a proper plan,” Tomura made sure he took the time to properly glare at each and every one of them. “I am going to take the initiative. You will say and do nothing around him that I don’t give you express permission for. Do you understand?”

Everyone nodded vigorously, no one wanting to reignite his anger now that it seemed to be almost fully receded.

“Good.” Tomura nodded sharply. “And someone, come up with a proper excuse to give the kid and the public. We can’t just tell them that a couple of you felt bad enough that you straight up kidnapped him from the courthouse.”

They took that as their cue to get up and disperse. Dabi himself was ready to get off his knees and see Shouto. He stood up quickly, hobbling a bit as he made his way to the door.

“Dabi.”

Ah, shit.

“Yeah, Tomura?” He turned to his boss with a grimacing smile on his face.

Tomura returned the grimace with one of his own. “Don’t ever make that face at me again. It’s hideous.”

Dabi scowled. “Well, my sincerest apologies, m’lord."

“Shut up.” Tomura rolled his eyes, turning to the door of the lounge and gesturing for Dabi to follow him. So he did.

The two of them walked down the hallway together in silence, with Tomura leading the way. Anytime Dabi thought of bringing up a conversation, he thought better of it at the last second; Tomura didn’t seem to be in the mood for idle conversation.

“I know you were behind this.”

Perhaps Dabi should’ve been surprised, though he honestly wasn’t. Tomura was the one person who knew his origins, the one person he had trusted to tell his best-hidden secrets to. Dabi still wasn’t quite sure if it had been the smartest move on his part.

“You’re so emotional,” Tomura huffed, crossing his arms and holding his head high. Sometimes, Dabi forgot that this guy was younger than him with the way he carried himself like an actual leader. “It’s hard to believe you actually went so far as to bring Shouto here, but I don’t know why I’m surprised. You’ve always been impulsive and reckless.”

“Hey!”

Dabi puffed out his cheeks in anger, though Tomura just continued to laugh at the ridicule.

“So damn sensitive.”

Dabi huffed, following Tomura around another corner—he wondered where they were headed—as the younger shook his head.

“Let’s just get one thing straight.” Tomura stopped for a moment, so Dabi followed suit, both of them facing each other in the middle of the hallway.

“He is not a guest; he is a prisoner.” Tomura’s glare was hard and non-negotiable. “We may treat him with respect, but ultimately we decide what to do with him as long as he’s here. I don’t know what it is you want to accomplish, but you’d better figure it out fast; preferably before we have heroes kicking our doors down.”

Dabi rolled his eyes, saying nothing as Tomura resumed his path to wherever he was leading Dabi. Dabi jogged to catch up, opting to not ask questions until they had stopped at a door Dabi hadn’t been to before. After all, this was the hostage wing of the mansion.

“He’s inside.” Tomura muttered, turning to Dabi with a look he couldn’t interpret. “Tread carefully, dipshit.”

Dabi huffed, shoving his shoulder into Tomura’s, eliciting a light squeak of protest.

“Whatever you say, shithead.”

Aizawa was strung higher than the ceiling, frantically calling anyone he could think of who might have some sort of lead. Hawks hadn’t given him much information, and had quickly ducked away, saying he had ‘business to attend to’ or whatever.

Point was, Aizawa no longer had anyone to turn to. Nezu was doing his best with what little information they had, but they weren’t even close to coming up with a concrete answer.

He was trying to put on a brave face for his students, but it was next to impossible when all they wanted to do was gear up and track down the league of villains, every single one of them intent on obliterating them.

Aizawa could understand why; this wasn’t the first time one of his students had been kidnapped by them, and it being a student whose wellbeing he hadn’t been able to oversee for so long was making it infinitely worse. He couldn’t even be sure what condition Shouto was in after the disaster of a trial they’d just had, where he’d been sentenced to return to his abuser.

Aizawa wanted nothing more than to join his students in their desire to find Shouto. But he also just wanted to bury his head in his hands and pass out for three days. He needed to find a way to calm down, and fast, before it became a problem in watching his trigger-happy students.

He felt a familiar hand come to rest gently on his shoulder, and he unconsciously leaned into the touch. Hizashi pulled him in closer, letting Aizawa lean on his shoulder as he held him.

“It’ll be fine.” He muttered, voice soft and calm; exactly what Aizawa needed right now. “We’ll find him; we always do. And we’ll make sure he’s safe, no matter what happens afterward.”

That being Shouto getting sent back to Endeavor, resident flaming pile of shit. Honestly, Aizawa couldn’t blame Fuyumi and Natsuo for feeling even a little relieved at the thought of Shouto not having to go home with him just yet, even if the alternative should’ve been even scarier.

Speaking of the other Todoroki children, they had called to inform him that their mother had been informed of the situation. She was rightfully terrified for Shouto, but had seemed conflicted on which fate was worse: Endeavor or the League of Villains.

Honestly, the fact that there was even a debate at all was telling.

Fuyumi had informed him that she would be coming back to the dorms later that night, but that she was staying with the rest of her family for now. Of course, Aizawa understood. After what happened, they all needed time to process the day’s events.

Aizawa glanced up to look at his class. So far, he had forced everyone to remain in the common room, until he could be sure they wouldn’t do anything rash. If worse came to worst, he’d make them all stay down here on the couches so that he could keep an eye on them.

Still, none of them had tried to disobey—yet. But perhaps they were trying to give Aizawa a sense of security so that they could sneak out when his guard was down.

Well, it wasn’t going to happen. Aizawa would make sure that his dumb kids didn’t do anything dumb, as is their nature.

The news was droning on in the background, most of his kids sitting in front of the TV screen and intently leaning forward as the clip of Shouto’s kidnapping was displayed over and over. Honestly, if Aizawa wasn’t so tired, he would’ve already gone over there and shut it off; he was sick of it.

Of all the ways he’d tried to help Shouto, not only had they miserably failed, but then he wound up getting himself kidnapped. And what could Aizawa do about it? Currently, nothing.

I’ll come, Shouto. He thought quietly to himself. This isn’t a promise I’ll take lightly.

Shouto didn’t know where he was. The last thing he remembered was stepping up to the car, and there had been some flash of light, and-

And now he was here. Wherever here was, exactly. It was a bright room, with white walls and a window near the ceiling of one of them, just out of reach for Shouto to see out of or maybe escape from, if it came to that.

There was a television up against the wall, though he didn’t dare touch it. The furniture was lavish and comfortable, and the large room smelled clean. If he had been kidnapped, then this had to be the nicest cell he could imagine.

Shouto felt in his pocket; he still had his phone. Either these kidnappers were careless, or they weren’t concerned with him trying to use it.

What’s going on?

Shouto could hear the occasional person pass by the door. He honestly didn’t know if it was even locked, as he hadn’t moved from the couch he’d woken up on, but he wasn’t going to take the chance. For all he knew, the moment he stepped out he’d be killed. And he didn’t even know who kidnapped him.

Right. At least this was a situation he was prepared for. Unlike going home with Endeavor, there were proper precautions he could take to keep himself safe until he either managed to escape, or until he was rescued.

He thought of maybe texting Hawks or Aizawa—surely they could help him, maybe track his location—but if the villains had let him keep the phone, they probably had a sensor-dampening Quirk that would prevent his signal from being traced. He needed to first figure out who had kidnapped him, and then he could go from there.

He heard steps outside his door, and he held his breath. He waited for them to pass, but he heard them stop outside the door, muttering in low voices that Shouto couldn’t make out. He thought he might’ve recognized the way they spoke, but he couldn’t be sure…

Then the handle was shaking, something sounding like a key being inserted and the handle clicked. Shouto watched, frozen and rigid in his seat on the couch, as the door handle turned, letting the kidnappers into the room.

And Shouto found himself face to face with-

“Hey, Shouto.”

The villain Dabi smiled, and Shouto felt all the blood drain from his face.

Oh, this can’t be happening.

Midoriya had thought about going after Shouto.

Surely, there was a way to find him, right? The league’s hideout couldn’t have been too secret. He’s sure if they looked hard enough, they’d find it.

But Midoriya knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as when they rescued Kacchan. They had no leads this time, no tracker in place, and no idea why Shouto was taken in the first place. For all he knew, they were trying to get back at Endeavor. If that were the case, then who knew what they were doing to Shouto back at their base.

Midoriya was itching to move, to go out and look for him, to do something. But all he could do was sit and watch the news drone on about the kidnapping, as if it was the only thing to actually report about. Maybe it was, but there had to be someone who wasn’t nose-deep in this case at the moment.

Tokoyami shuffled beside him, clearly uncomfortable at being forced to stay down here. Midoriya knew that he preferred to retreat to the privacy of his room when he was upset.

Dark Shadow was resting in his lap, squirming as Tokoyami held him still. That, Midoriya could understand. Ever since the kidnapping—really ever since the final verdict had been passed—One for All had been itching at the base of his skull, the pads of his fingers, the joints in his knees. It was getting harder as time went on to keep himself from accidentally crushing his cup.

His classmates sitting around him didn’t seem to be faring much better. Aoyama had already asked to be excused to the bathroom six times as his naval laser kept leaking uncontrollably. Present Mic went with him to keep an eye on him, but so far they hadn’t been back from their latest excursion ten minutes ago.

Momo and Satou seemed to be stress eating, Uraraka had almost begun to float away a few minutes prior, Kaminari’s lightning bolts kept going off, and half of Kirishima’s body was hardened uncontrollably.

Of course, all of them were stressed, and it was taking its toll on everyone in different ways.

Midoriya just wished there was something he could do to put all of their minds at ease. Not only that, but he wished that he could find a way to keep Shouto safe, from the villains and from his father.

Midoriya sighed. As of right now, he was powerless to do anything. And that was what frustrated him the most.

Chapter Text

Dabi and Shouto were at a standstill.

Neither had moved since Dabi had entered the room; he could tell Shouto was as rigid as a board, though he was trying to appear calm.

Shouto spoke first.

“What do you want?”

The tone was ice cold. It would seem Shouto was back to his usual, self-protective facade. It made Dabi angry, though not at his baby brother.

Dabi shrugged. “Nothing.”

It was true. He didn’t want anything from Shouto. Sure, he wanted good things for Shouto, but he didn’t expect immediate results.

Shouto’s glare turned more into a look of apprehension. “Then why am I here?”

Dabi shrugged, stepping further into the room, the door shutting behind him. Shouto tensed and, though he attempted to hide it, Dabi managed to catch it: the subtle aborted flinch of someone who doesn’t feel safe and was taught not to protect themselves. To just take the punishment you were told you deserved.

And Dabi’s anger ignited all over again.

“Look at me, Shouto.” Dabi huffed as he plopped down heavily onto the coffee table only a foot away from Shouto, whose attention rested on him undividedly.

Dabi crossed his legs, leaning forward as he rested his face on his elbow. “Why do you think you’re here?”

Shouto’s full glare returned, venom lacing his tone.

“To get back at Endeavor?”

Dabi chuckled, albeit humorlessly. The notion of him caring about what went on with Enji was nearly funny. Enji was so far from a priority right now.

“What do you think the League of Villains is, Shouto?”

Shouto merely regarded him, silent. Dabi chose to use that as his cue to continue.

“It’s a bunch of abused kids trying to get by and hoping to make a difference.”

Shouto blinked, eyes narrowing skeptically, and he remained silent.

“You’re here because you’re like us,” Dabi stated, holding Shouto’s gaze and watching as his eyes widened. “We believe you, Shouto. And I’m not trying to recruit you into the League of Villains or anything; you can leave whenever you like.”

Shouto didn’t seem to know whether to relax in relief or stay on his guard.

“Although,” Dabi leaned forward with a grimace. “Don’t tell Tomura I said that. If you wanna leave, tell me and I’ll escort you out.”

Shouto’s eyes narrowed again. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? And not just lying to me?”

“I can’t really prove it,” Dabi shrugged. “But see for yourself, I guess. I mean, you’re already here. And even if I trick you into thinking I’ll let you leave, that’s more of a chance than if I had just said you have to stay here.”

Shouto still didn’t seem convinced, but Dabi couldn’t very well do anything else. It’s not like he had a master key that would let Shouto out with no questions asked. There were bound to be issues.

But Dabi didn’t want Shouto to go on like this any longer. He couldn’t sit by and watch him go back to Endeavor knowing what would happen.

“I hope you believe me, Shouto, when I say,” Dabi took in a deep breath, exhaling softly in hopes that he could make this sound believable. “I want you to be safe. Not just me, but the league too. I know you don’t feel safe here, but I wanted to give you somewhere to go where Endeavor couldn’t reach you.”

He tried to meet Shouto’s eyes, but his younger brother was being difficult with that, averting his gaze the second he met Dabi’s. Although, Dabi had managed to catch the slight flicker of something in his eyes.

“Don’t you see?” Dabi continued, leaning sideways a little to catch Shouto’s gaze. “This is the only place in the world that is one hundred percent safe from Endeavor. You might not think so, but you’re safe here. We want you to be safe.”

Shouto didn’t respond for a few moments, the silence dragging on almost comfortably between them. Shouto’s breathing and expression gave nothing away, but Dabi could still see his eyes. They were almost watering, glistening with the first unshed tears.

Shouto seemed to want to believe him.

“Why do you care?”

Shouto’s voice was weak, and as Dabi scanned his face all he could see was distrust. Of course, Shouto had no reason to trust a villain, but that expression looked so comfortable on Shouto that Dabi was willing to bet he hadn’t taken it off in a long time.

When, exactly, was Shouto last able to fully trust someone? His father, who had mistreated him his whole life? The heroes, who lost his case and had him nearly sent back to that monster? His classmates, who couldn’t see what was blatantly obvious in front of them and continued worshiping Endeavor in front of him? Fuyumi and Natsuo, who hold no power over Endeavor and can’t possibly win against him? Dabi himself, who left him in that hellhole? Mom, who burned his face?

It was plainly obvious to Dabi now, that this kid may have been surrounded by many people throughout his life—people who might’ve been capable of saving him—but anyone who he might’ve been able to trust had all found ways to let him down; they had all failed him, and now he was left with the broken pieces of what could’ve been trust.

So many people, so many heroes a part of his life who could’ve saved him, successfully and a lot sooner. Heroes in and around his life who could’ve saved him, who just didn’t.

Dabi wasn’t going to let that happen again. If Shouto couldn’t trust anyone, he would make sure he could at least trust himself; Dabi would make sure that Shouto would never hate himself so much as to let himself get dragged back into that situation.

“Let me tell you something, Shouto.” Dabi folded his hands, dropping both of his feet onto the floor in an effort to appear mature and grounded: he wanted Shouto to listen to what he had to say.

“You don’t need the courts to tell you what is and isn’t abuse, or what’s valid or not. If they don’t believe you, that’s them.” He shook his head as Shouto’s eyebrows relaxed just minutely, and his eyes widened ever so slightly.

“And they don’t matter, because I believe you.” He scooted forward just a bit, making tentative contact with their toes. It was through shoes, and was barely able to be felt, but it was there: that unbreakable connection that was between them. The fact that they were currently touching and Shouto wasn’t pulling away.

A part of him was clinging to what Dabi said, because he wanted to believe it.

“You and I know the truth, and if everyone else refuses to see it, we’ll make them see it.”

Dabi unfolded his hands, gripping both of his thighs as he dared to lean even more forward. Shouto did not lean away, even a fraction.

“I’m going to protect you, Sho.” He declared with finality. “For as long as you’ll let me.”

Finally, Shouto’s stone cold facade seemed to slip, revealing a child who had been strong for far too long. A child, unloved by his parents, unloved by even himself, who wanted desperately to taste what love might feel like.

A child who wanted nothing more than to let his tears fall. The tears of a child long broken, long forgotten behind that facade.

It wasn’t like a dam breaking, or all of his pent-up emotions cascading out like a flood. No, it was slow, gradual. Shouto did not want to break.

It felt more like ice melting. The container might hold the ice itself, but once it melts the tide begins to rise, and the water slowly starts to spill more and more out from the top. Shouto’s perfectly cold emotions began to melt, and slowly spill from each crack that had been created in his fragile facade.

The tears came slow, not gut-wrenching sobs as Shouto might have deserved. These tears were tentative, the tears of a child who knew he shouldn’t take to heart what a villain was saying, and yet couldn’t help how the words resonated within him.

“You…”

Dabi watched Shouto carefully, not making any moves to wipe his tears or hold his trembling shoulders. He just sat there, waiting patiently for Shouto to reach for him, should he so choose.

“You’re helping… but why?” Shouto sniffled as the silent tears slid down his cheeks, staining his pants as they fell. He looked down at his lap, fists clenching. “Why is a villain helping me, but not the heroes? Why- why do they hate me?”

Dabi resisted the urge to sigh. He really didn’t want to turn this into a villain motive lecture, but…

“The root of everything happening to you, Shouto,” he waited until his baby brother was looking at him again to continue. “Is hero society, and the ways in which it has failed you. Heroes get excused from their horrendous acts because of the good they do in front of others.”

Dabi really tried to suppress the eye roll, but alas, it won out against him. “You know, because we should forgive those vile acts because ‘they didn’t mean it’ and ‘they’re sorry’ and ‘it was for the greater good’ or whatever.”

He leaned forward once again, trying to encourage a bit more of that casual atmosphere they had going. Why, if Endeavor could see them now: his thought-to-be-dead villain son having a casual, meaningful conversation with his ‘masterpiece’ hero child. Dabi would bet money that Endeavor would burst a blood vessel in his forehead seeing Shouto so open and vulnerable like this.

“Y’know, some heroes have higher body counts than I do.” Dabi shrugged, watching Shouto cock his head. “Endeavor is one of them, by the way.”

Shouto blinked, as though he’d never thought of that before. That Endeavor was licensed to kill by the state; that the Hero Commission probably knew about his family treatment and had taken part in covering it up since Endeavor was a hero they couldn’t afford to lose, regardless of what he might do to his wife and kids.

Shouto scratched at his neck mindlessly—almost like that tick of Tomura’s, whenever his emotions got out of control and he started scratching like a dog with fleas. Looking closer, Dabi could notice the fading red hue of his skin; must’ve been the result of hot water, perhaps a scalding shower.

Dabi could understand that. Sometimes when he dissociated, he just needed to feel something, anything, even if that meant unbearable, excruciating pain. And it took a lot for Dabi to feel most things through his nerve damage.

Dabi unthinkingly reached forward to still Shouto’s hand that was abusing the skin on his neck; it was a habit he’d picked up to keep Tomura from scratching and making himself bleed.

It almost caught him off guard that he’d thoughtlessly reached for Shouto, but it shocked him more that Shouto had let him touch him at all.

Shouto seemed the most surprised of both of them, staring at Dabi’s hand clutching his own as though he wasn’t sure if he should shove him away or not.

Well, the smart thing would be to reject him entirely. But clearly, Shouto was getting treated softly and seriously for the first time in what might’ve been weeks.

And it was all coming from a villain, no less.

Dabi awkwardly released his grip on Shouto’s wrist.

“You shouldn’t, ah, scratch.” He mumbled, dropping his hands into his lap. “You’ll end up looking like Tomura.”

Shouto blinked, like he hadn’t been able to deduce why Dabi had touched him in the first place. It was kind of odd for a villain, Dabi especially, to seemingly care about skin care.

“I’ll get you some bandaids for the skin you’ve ripped up.” He brought his hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly. “Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself under our care.”

He waited for Shouto to refute that’s what this was: villains can’t care for people, be real! Villains are heartless, you guys are just lying!

But none of that came. Instead, Shouto unconsciously brought his hand up to the side of his neck, running his fingers over the grooves he’d indented into his skin, regarding Dabi with unblinking eyes.

“...you care.”

It was said as a statement this time, an observation. Shouto had decided that he believed what Dabi had told him. Dabi felt his chest ache.

“...you haven’t been healing at all, have you?”

Shouto cocked his head at him, still regarding him calmly now. It was almost strange, Dabi couldn’t recall when the tears had stopped coming. He was glad for it, though. Crying should be a release of negative hormones, not something you were supposed to choke and heave on.

“All this time you’ve been away from Enji, your scars haven’t scabbed over, so to speak. That therapist wasn’t doing enough to get through to you…” Dabi reached forward a tentative hand, slowly extending it towards Shouto. His brother stiffened, but ultimately chose to not push him away as the hand met his face, fingers lightly grazing the underside of his scar.

“I know what it’s like, to feel unsalvageable, irredeemable.” He offered him a small, sad smile. “Trust me Shouto; there’s not much anyone can do if you’re too scared to change or accept their help. But don’t worry, Sho. I’m here.”

He debated his next words very carefully. The confession was pressing on his tongue, choking him and demanding to be released. But he wasn’t sure if it was the right move to play. If Shouto thought he was lying, it would shatter all the tentative trust he had been trying to build since the conversation started.

But he couldn’t lie to his baby brother. Not anymore. Not with him like this, leaning ever so slightly into his touch.

Dabi took a slow, deliberate inhale.

“I’m here. Touya-nii is here now.” He closed his eyes, so he couldn’t see Shouto’s face. He could feel him stiffen, hear his breathing hitch, but he would not look. “You don’t have to worry about a thing as long as I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore. Got that, Shouto?”

He risked a glance at him, peeling his eyes open to examine his face. He didn’t know what Shouto was thinking, or what Shouto saw, but he could pick out the exact moment when Shouto went from skeptical to stunned.

“...Touya-nii?”

Dabi smiled halfheartedly. This was not how he imagined revealing his secret. In his dreams, he had always been bashing Endeavor, torturing him and stringing out his last legs on life before dropping the bombshell. It was meant to be an explosion, a catastrophe, not a soft whisper in a quiet room down a deserted hallway between two brothers near tears again.

Dabi nodded, showing as much sincerity as he knew how.

“Touya-nii is here for you.”

Shouto stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Dabi didn’t honestly know if he was going to believe him, or even care. They weren’t close as brothers; Endeavor had made sure of that. And his ‘death’ certainly didn’t help matters.

But then, without a word, Shouto himself moved forward, pushing himself toward the edge of the couch and leaning forward until his forehead hit Dabi’s shoulder. Dabi held his breath as Shouto stayed like that for a moment, soundless.

Until, finally-

“T-touya-nii,”

Shouto sniffled, and Dabi felt the fabric of his shirt become wet with new tears that Shouto shed. There were more of them now, coming faster as Shouto’s breathing picked up. Shouto hiccuped as his arms found their way up, fists clenched in the fabric of the front of Dabi’s shirt.

And there it was. Shouto, crying wretchedly into Dabi’s chest. That was all Dabi needed.

He brought his arms up, slowly and carefully wrapping them around his baby brother.

“Shh, Touya-nii is here now; there’s no reason to be afraid.” He brought one of his hands to the back of Shouto’s head, supporting it against his shoulder and rubbing his fingers into Shouto’s scalp. “Everything will be okay, Sho.”

He sighed as Shouto melted more and more into his embrace. Dabi glanced at the door, wondering if Tomura would be back anytime soon to check up on the conversation’s progress.

He shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. That didn’t matter now.

“Cry all you want.” He murmured softly, rubbing Shouto’s back softly. “I’ve got you.”

Shouto hiccuped again, burying his face further into Dabi’s neck.

“Touya-nii…”

“Shh, my arms are strong; I can hold you for as long as you need.”

“How’s the kid?!”

Hawks had finally gotten a call from the League of Villains, nearly two full days after Shouto had gone missing. He ducked into his office at his agency; he’d had to literally run out of his meeting with the Commission Council to take this call in private.

Sure, they knew he was infiltrating the league, but he couldn’t have them finding out that he’d been the one housing Shouto away from Endeavor. And there was no way he was going to postpone that conversation for the next time a league member decided to finally pick up one of his calls.

“Hm, great! Miserable!”

Hawks ran a hand down his face, sighing. He didn’t mind Jin, really. But he wanted solid confirmation on Shouto’s condition before he could allow himself to relax.

“What Jin means to say,” Toga said, audibly snatching the phone. Hawks exhaled in relief; he’d never thought he’d rather talk to her than to Jin. “Is that it’s none of your business.”

Well, that sentiment was short-lived.

“Both of you, give me the phone!”

Hawks nearly groaned aloud; he didn’t think he could deal with Dabi right now.

“Why? Aren’t you busy talking to Baby Endeavor?”

Hawks froze. What? Shouto was with Dabi? Dabi was the one keeping an eye on him? Hawks didn’t like that idea.

“”Yeah, you’ve been in that room for like an hour! Out so soon, Dabi?”

“Just shut up!” Suddenly there was a loud scratching on the phone’s receiver, along with a few curses thrown around, until finally Dabi seemed to have won the tussle for the phone.

“Is this Hawks?”

Hawks swallowed down the lump in his throat. He didn’t want to think about what Dabi had been doing to Shouto in that room. Still, the itching need to know more was there—the Commission literally had to restrain him from going there himself. He would’ve thrown away his entire mission to know Shouto’s alright.

Hawks’ mouth was dry when he answered. “Yes?”

“What do you want?”

Anger irked within him, igniting hot and bright.

“What do you think?”

Dabi stalled on the other end; perhaps because Hawks had never before disregarded filtering his emotions to them. Hawks wondered if Dabi was considering how to answer.

“Shouto’s fine.”

Hawks almost growled in rage. “Why should I believe you.”

It wasn’t a question. He was demanding an answer.

“What, you want me to video call you so Shouto can see that we’re best buds?” Dabi spat; Hawks didn’t know why he was getting so defensive about this. “Just stay where you are, birdie. It’ll make this easier on everyone involved.”

Hawks clenched his jaw. “I will not.”

There was eerie silence on the phone for a few strung-out moments.

“Why not?”

And boy, did Dabi sound pissed. Sure, Hawks had heard him angry—hell, even angrier than this—but it had never been so scathing, with something underlying in his tone that Hawks couldn’t quite pick out.

“Because,” Hawks spat back; if Dabi was going to give him attitude, he’d dish it back tenfold. “You know damn well I was keeping the kid safe. You took it into your hands to bring him to the League of fucking Villains’ base, and you think I’m going to just forget about my duty to protect him? To hell with that! I need to know he’s okay!”

There was a long-drawn breath over the receiver.

“Look,” and suddenly, Dabi sounded much more resigned than before. “I swear, he’s just fine. We’re looking after him as best we can. Can’t you extend us a little trust? You’ve known us for months. I’d like to think you wouldn’t believe we’d hurt an innocent child. You saw how we followed Shouto’s trial!”

Hawks huffed; he couldn’t deny that they’d at least had him convinced that they cared. Still, he wouldn’t fully believe them until he had actual proof that they weren’t just lying out of their asses.

“What was it that Jin said about you being locked up in a room with Shouto for an hour? Are you just sticking him in another cell and calling it salvation?”

“Oh, can it, will ya?” Dabi groaned. Hawks could hear the eyeroll. “Yes, we gave him a room. No, it’s not anything like a cell. He has his phone, a television, and the room is not locked. I told him he could leave anytime he wanted to. If he wants to stay, then you heroes need to learn that not everyone likes you, and not everyone wants to be where you are.”

Hawks blanched, blinking to himself. He stared at his desk in front of him, where he had yet to sit down.

Was Dabi telling the truth? Could Shouto leave anytime he chose? Or was this another possible lie that Hawks should be wary of?

“I don’t blame him for not wanting to return to Endeavor,” Hawks began, choosing his words carefully; he didn’t want to assume what might’ve been going through Shouto’s head. “But I doubt he’s staying at your hideout because he likes it there.”

There was a scoff. “You’d be surprised.”

Now what was that supposed to mean? Surely Dabi didn’t think he could convince Hawks that Shouto actually liked it at the league’s base. The only reason Hawks could find himself lounging there was because they thought of him as one of their own. To them, he wasn’t a random outsider.

Unless, of course, they were trying to make Shouto into one of their own.

“I swear,” Hawks clenched his teeth. “If you’re trying to make him a villain and make him work for you-”

“Oh, get your head out of your ass, will ya? We don’t want anything from him. Why can’t you heroes understand that?” Dabi laughed forcibly, though the sound was hollow. “Why is it so hard for you to wrap your heroic little heads around the fact that not everything people do is because they want something out of it? Have you ever heard of common courtesy? Of empathy? I know heroes get compensation for saving lives, but this is just ridiculous!”

Hawks scowled, walking around his desk to sit in his office chair. He sent a feather across the room to lock the door; he didn’t want to be disturbed by anyone, even after this call ended.

“I don’t see why you’re mad at me, hero.” Dabi pressed on, voice bordering on hoarse. “I’m not the one who ordered that Shouto should be sent back to Endeavor. And I’m not the one who was going to let him go. You should be mad at your court systems, your heroes, your precious Commission. Get mad at it while it’s still there. We’ll have it torn down soon anyway.”

The call ended without Hawks getting to respond. He was more than tempted to throw his phone at the wall, but then he’d have no way of communicating with the league when next he wanted to. So he had to settle for slamming it onto his desk and groaning into his hands like a child.

At this point, the room was too bright, the subtle noise was too loud, every rustle of his wings was too much. Whenever he got overstimulated like this, the only thing he really could do was preen his feathers and take a long flight into the night.

He sighed, opting to ignore the rest of his workload for the day. The Commission had ordered several meetings, some private just for Hawks to discuss how he should proceed with the mission—to hell with that—and others including different heroes strategizing on how to retrieve Shouto from the league.

Of course, Hawks wanted to get Shouto back. But he didn’t want to do it the way the Commission would want it done. And if Dabi was telling the truth, then removing Shouto and bringing him back into the limelight with the drama surrounding himself and Endeavor, well… that wouldn’t be the best idea.

And maybe, just the tiniest part of Hawks might half-believe what Dabi was saying. He didn’t even know how that had happened.

But if there was one thing he’d come to learn about Shouto while taking care of him, it was that he appreciated the people who chose to believe him, those who sought to help him. No one could get anywhere with the title of ‘hero’ around him, so why should the title of ‘villain’ matter to Shouto?

Somehow, Hawks believed that wherever Shouto was right now, whatever was going on, he was safe and maybe even happy.

Shouto peeked out of the door into the hallway.

He… didn’t really know what to think about the whole mess he was in. But, he found that he believed what Dabi told him. He could just… perfectly picture Dabi’s voice coming from Touya’s mouth, the way he talked, the way he held himself. Not to mention the similarities with the Quirk, scars, and facial structure.

His vendetta against Endeavor made sense now. Shouto could almost see every step in the story play out; Sekoto Peak, something happening that caused Touya to survive, the reason he didn’t come home and instead turned to villainy, the reason he wants Endeavor dead.

Under different circumstances, Shouto could see himself walking that same path almost to a tee.

But one thing above everything else stuck out to him through all this. Just one simple question, one measly word.

Why?

And with that one word came hundreds.

Why didn’t he want to die anymore? Why now, that he was exposed to the ugly truth of his thought-to-be-dead brother’s life, now that he’s separated from the rest of his loving friends and family…

Why now, does he think he might enjoy the simple act of living through simple, mundane moments? Is this what life was about? Enjoying the mundane, effortless moments of time enough to be able to make it through the rough times? It seemed almost so easy now, Shouto felt the need to be angry that it had seemed so hard before.

These past two days in this room… had been the easiest, probably most relaxing and comforting days of his life. And villains would walk by his door every couple hours!

Dabi- no, Touya had often come in, either bringing food or extra clothes. He brought a phone charger and showed Shouto how to work the television in the room. He’d even come back with the bandaids he promised, all of them decorated with silly cartoon characters that were supposedly for Shigaraki, and he’d applied them to Shouto’s mangled skin with such care that Shouto had never felt before.

The act itself was so kind and so humane, it was hard to put the label of ‘villain’ on the man doing it.

Shouto had tested more than once to see if the door was truly unlocked. Every single time he checked, he found it to be open. He could leave if he wanted to. He had even waited to hear if any guards had been posted at his door, but he’d found nothing. He had more privacy than ever.

Shouto hadn’t slept the first night after he’d gotten here. He had been too worked up trying to come to terms with Touya’s story, the realization that his brother was alive. He’d been too overcome with too many unfamiliar emotions to be able to rest at all.

The next day was better. Touya had come in during the morning to discuss a bit more now that Shouto had calmed down from his previous breakdown. They talked over a breakfast of taiyaki and sweet bean paste, the sweetest thing Shouto had ever been allowed to consume. Apparently, they were Toga and Twice’s favorite, so the league was always stocked with plenty of it.

Having talked a bit more and working it out together, Shouto felt a lot more confident in viewing this man as Touya. He found himself glad that his brother was alive, despite having never really known him that well. Touya had more than made a great impression upon reentering his life.

Touya had offered, if Shouto was feeling up to it, to save a place for him at their lunch spot. Shouto hadn’t felt quite right hanging out with the rest of the League of Villains just yet, so he had decided to decline the offer.

Shouto had just finished eating his own lunch—somehow it had only taken two tries for Touya to guess his favorite dish, cold soba—when he thought he might take a look around.

Sue him, he was feeling bolder now that he knew this was pretty much his brother’s domain. Sure, he wasn’t the boss of the villains here, but he was something like Shigaraki’s right hand man, right? Shouto felt more than safe and, strangely, a little curious. It had been a while since he’d been allowed to be curious.

The hallway was empty, as usual around this time of day; it’s not like Shouto was kept from knowing the time or how many days he’d been there. He wasn’t a prisoner. At least, he didn’t feel like one.

He wasn’t treated like one, for once.

He ventured down the hallway, away from the dead end. He almost crossed into the main balcony around the courtyard of the bottom floor, when someone walked in front of him, causing Shouto to stop in his tracks.

It wasn’t someone he recognized; they must’ve been a newly-recruited member from the Liberation Army. They cast him a sideways glance, but didn’t pause in their journey. They kept walking like nothing was wrong.

Either the villains were playing the long game by tormenting him with the smallest tastes of freedom before revoking it, or there really was nothing stopping him from leaving.

He was inclined to believe the latter at this point.

For such a big mansion with so many villains living in it, Shouto didn’t know what he was expecting.

Maybe he was expecting it to be dead silent, like Endeavor’s house; a rigid structure where no one stepped out of line. Or if he was expecting the exact opposite of heroes, where everything would be beyond hectic, noisy and disorganized.

But the first thing he heard… was laughter.

It wasn’t the kind of laughter he’d come to expect from villains on the battlefield, either. It was the kind of laughter that he might’ve heard in UA’s lunchroom once—the laughter of someone cracking a really bad joke that was so unfunny it somehow made the whole table double over in tears.

Then he could hear voices, distantly. Some from above, some from below. People casually chatting in the courtyard below or maybe on another balcony. People having casual conversation with their friends.

People being people. Not heroes, not villains. Just people.

He thought he heard someone screaming, and for a moment was on alert, but then he realized just what that sound was: the sound of Kirishima beating Kaminari during game night, how Kaminari would scream as he lost but still be having fun playing. The scream of enjoyment, one that Shouto was not quite familiar with.

It was coming from the balcony of Shouto’s level, across the open-aired courtyard. He couldn’t exactly tell from which room, but the door must’ve been open, and the voice was somehow familiar.

He’d heard that voice, at the UA Summer Training Camp. The voice had been just as jovial then as it was now.

“No, Toga, stop killing me! I’m winning by a landslide!”

“No one likes a sore loser, Jin!”

Toga. Jin. The League of Villains.

That’s where Touya was right now. He was with them, where they were having fun.

Shouto didn’t know when his feet started moving. Maybe it was because of the familiar, borderline nostalgic air surrounding the room, reminding him of nights long past back when he had seen his friends. Back when he’d had fun with them.

He stopped just before he’d be visible to them in front of their open door.

He didn’t know what he was doing. These were villains, he was a hero student. Long-lost brother or not, rescued or not, Shouto should have left when he’d been given the chance two days ago. He shouldn’t still be here. He shouldn’t want to be here. So why-

Why? He didn’t want to be a villain, but he didn’t want to leave them either.

Did that make him a villain? Did that make him a bad person? Was he wrong for wanting to stay when his family and friends and the heroes of the nation were probably swarming to get him back?

What about Midoriya? What about Hawks? What about Fuyumi and Natsuo? The rest of his class? What about… her?

Did she know? He didn’t think she did. She was still in the hospital, and he had asked Fuyumi and Natsuo to try and keep her away from the drama surrounding him. But, she must’ve seen him getting taken away by villains.

Was she scared? Or the others? Did they want to make the villains pay or did they just want to make sure Shouto was back safely?

He didn’t know. He wouldn’t know unless he left this place. But something within him wouldn’t let him leave. Something that reared its head when he thought of Touya, and how he didn’t want to lose him again; or when he thought of the affirmation his big brother had given him, a safe place and safe words.

The brother he’d never had the chance to love had come to his rescue, because despite not knowing him as a person, he believed Shouto. From what Shouto had been previously told about Touya, he had always assumed if they ever met that Touya would hate him.

But Touya was, to Shouto, the safest place on earth.

Someone cleared their throat behind Shouto, and he felt himself jump, back pressing against the wall as he faced whoever it was. His heartbeat skyrocketed and his breathing heaved, but he couldn’t mistake the image even in his panic.

Mr. Compress, also from the attack on the Training Camp, though he was considerably dressed down. His shirt was untucked, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his vest was unbuttoned. He wasn’t wearing his hat, though he still had on the mask.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, kiddo.” He smiled almost sheepishly. Shouto felt a pang in his heart as the nickname reminded him of a certain feathered godsend in his times of need. “Say, would you like to join us inside?”

Shouto couldn’t find the words he needed, nor did he even know the answer to the question. He just blinked as his mouth opened and closed without a response.

The man chuckled, holding up his pointer finger in a patient gesture before slipping past him and ducking into the room. Shouto couldn’t hear anything over the yelling and video game noises, but the person who emerged from the room next was Touya.

“Sho?” Touya blinked, a grin overtaking his confusion. “What’s up? Wanna come in?”

At Shouto’s continued incoherent response attempts, Touya gently rested his hands on his shoulders and squeezed.

“Don’t worry. It’s only me, Toga and Twice right now.” He cocked his head. “Well, and now Compress, but if you’re worried about Tomura, he’s out right now.”

Shouto vaguely wondered if he should try to find out where their boss was—it would be useful information for the heroes to know—but he couldn’t find it in himself to ask. For some reason, he didn’t want to give the heroes an excuse to hurt one of the villains letting him stay here, not even Shigaraki.

Shouto was gently steered into the room, Touya having him sit on the end of the couch while he took the spot in the middle. Shouto watched the rest of the room warily, eyeing the others to see what might’ve been going through their heads.

But, to his surprise, nothing seemed to have changed from when he had been outside.

Toga and Twice continued to battle in their weird fighting video game, yelling curses and throwing verbal jabs at each other all in good fun. Mr. Compress sat in the chair off to the side of the couch, huffing amusedly as he pulled out his phone and began scrolling.

As for Touya, well…

“Beat his ass! Right hook, Toga, right!”

“Dabi, quit distracting me!”

Toga’s stamina bar dropped lower than her opponent’s.

“You’re making me lose!”

Touya chuckled lowly, leaning towards Shouto conspiratorially.

“All part of the plan. Gotta look out for my bro Twice, right?”

Toga let out a scandalized gasp. “I heard that, you two-timer!”

Twice let out a victorious cackle as he gained a hundred points from a well-landed hit. Toga had been too busy yelling to see that one coming.

Now that Shouto thought about it, this might’ve been one of the video games his class had played at game night.

Twice whooped in victory as the game signaled his win on the screen. Toga merely groaned, dropping her controller.

“That last match was rigged and you know it.”

“No one likes a sore loser, Toga-chan!”

“Ah! Don’t you turn my words back on me!”

She tackled Twice, rubbing her fist against his head hard enough to scrunch up the mask. He pulled it off his head and dropped it into his lap.

“I can’t split apart if I’m a whole winner!”

Touya rolled his eyes as those two continued to bicker, hoisting himself off the couch.

“Alright, let me show you all how to really win at this game.” He gave Twice a smirk. “Someone’s gotta knock you down after hyping you up.”

“Pfff, getting cocky, Dabi?” Twice grinned up at him. “We’ll see about that! I’ll eat my words!”

“Damn right you will!”

Touya took Toga’s place on the floor. For a moment, Shouto thought Toga might take Touya’s spot next to him on the couch, but before he could even brace for it, she had made her way to perch on the end table.

“My money’s on Dabi.” Mr. Compress stated casually, waving his hand in an act of nonchalance.

Toga merely scoffed. “I am not taking up that bet. You seriously cheat. There’s no way you win by luck or skill every time.”

“Ah!” Mr. Compress bowed his head slightly. “It’s an art form, my dear!”

“Art form, my ass!”

Shouto chose to watch the game instead of listening to their banter. He felt weird intruding on their conversation where he was so obviously an outsider, even if they refused to acknowledge it.

The game went on for a few rounds before someone new stepped into the doorframe, panting and clutching their knees. Shouto couldn’t remember his name, but he recognized him for sure.

“What’s up, Spinner?” Toga cocked her head. “You don’t often run.”

“Shigaraki’s here.” He huffed, finally standing up to his full height. He cast Shouto a glance, and just as quickly seemed to forget about his existence.

Maybe it really wasn’t that weird to these guys that Shouto was here in their space? Were they really that fine with it?

“Ran into him, but he seemed kind of pissed.” Spinner grimaced nervously, walking into the room and taking a seat on the floor where he could easily observe the video game on the screen.

“He took a detour for something, but I don’t think it’s anything good.”

“Ah, I’m sure it’s nothing.” Mr. Compress waved him off with a shrug. “He’s always upset about one thing or another, unless he’s eating.”

“Mm.” Toga nodded. “He’s even grumpy when he’s asleep.”

Spinner blinked. “How… would you know?”

Toga held up a finger to her lips in a gesture to silence him. He made no further comments.

True to his worries, a few minutes later none other than Shigaraki stepped through the door frame, gripping some type of scissors in one of his hands.

Shouto unconsciously shrank down into the couch cushions.

“Dabi, get up. I need you.”

Instead of immediately dropping everything and bending to his boss’s will, Touya groaned.

“But Tomura, I’m winning!” He glanced up at him playfully. “Can it wait until later, and you can have your bidding done by a true winner?”

Without responding, Shigaraki kicked the controller out of his hand, face remaining completely still. Instead of getting upset or angry, Touya just hopped to his feet with a grin.

“Spinner, take over for me. Don’t let that bastard win!”

As Spinner scrambled to take the controls, Touya grabbed Shigaraki by the shoulders and steered him much like he had Shouto to the couch, sitting him at the other end.

“Now, what did you need? And why are you strutting around wielding scissors of all things?” Touya tapped his chin. “You’re not trying to pull my stitches out, are you?”

Shigaraki glared up at him. “Not yet.”

Touya rolled his eyes, sitting down in the middle of the couch.

“So what’s up?”

Shigaraki scowled. “I need you to cut my hair.”

Without saying anything else, he dropped the scissors into Touya’s lap.

His brother chuckled. “Any reason why?”

Nonetheless, he grabbed the scissors and nudged Shigaraki off the couch and onto the floor right in front of him. Shouto knew the position was superficial, but he couldn’t shake how weird it was to see Shigaraki Tomura almost kneeling in what could’ve been mistaken as surrender or supplication. He was completely vulnerable like that.

“That Redestro bastard said I looked cute with long hair and that he’d love to touch it sometime.” Shigaraki shuddered in what might’ve been exaggerated disgust. “I need it all cut off immediately. I know you used to cut your sister’s hair, so…”

Shouto was almost shocked by that. Shigaraki knew that Touya had a sister? Did he know about anything else? Or did everyone know? It didn’t seem like everyone was in the loop, though it just might not have been obvious.

Touya seemed to also find the declaration of Redestro’s interest to be repulsive, as he gave no complaint to pulling back Shigaraki’s hair and holding it between his fingers.

“Might not be that good since I don’t have water or a comb.”

“I don’t need it to be perfect. I just need it to be shorter. Like when we first met.” Shigaraki huffed, shoulders slouching as he glanced up at the TV screen. “Twice, you’re hitting the wrong button.”

“Ah! Thanks, boss! Rot in hell!”

Shigaraki leaned back ever so slightly until his shoulder blades met Touya’s knees. Neither of them seemed uncomfortable or unfamiliar with the touch. It seemed the League of Villains was much more openly affectionate—in their own way—than Shouto had previously thought.

Somehow, Shouto felt just fine sitting in that room, listening to the villains cut each other’s hair, play video games, and make idle chatter.

And if he noticed, now that the villain’s hair was being pulled back, the similarity between the bandaids on his neck and those on Shigaraki’s, then that was neither here nor there.

Maybe Shigaraki should’ve been upset.

Out of all of his previous instructions to the league, they had ignored every single one of them.

Don’t tell the kid anything until he gave the okay? Don’t do anything regarding the kid without his permission? Don’t let him wander around without proper surveillance? Give the kid a proper reason for why he was kidnapped, instead of telling him the truth?

All of it, right down the drain. And then he finds out that Dabi told the kid about his real identity, something that should have most definitely not happened.

Whatever. He couldn’t care less anymore. The kid’s presence was barely noticeable, and he honestly looked like such a sorry sight that Shigaraki didn’t have the heart to shut down his current treatment.

So he didn’t bother reprimanding the rest of the league, who had all seemed to be holding their breath and waiting for it. What’s done is done, and frankly he felt a little sorry for the kid—he was not going soft!—for going through what many of themselves had gone through.

Maybe he saw a little of himself in the kid, so what? Maybe he wanted him to be cared for like he had so desperately wished for and so miserably lacked back in his early days on the street.

Shigaraki turned off the news recounting the bordering on desperate investigation looking for Todoroki Shouto.

Dabi had asked that the news not be on in the kid’s presence, so Shigaraki had found himself secluding himself in Dabi’s room. After all, Shigaraki had recently disintegrated the TV in his room, and he wasn’t keen on seeking out Redestro any time soon to replace it. He’d been receiving one too many flirtatious comments from that man, and would rather just not deal with it for now.

Dabi had come in a while ago, after saying goodnight to his brother, declaring that he wanted to be caught up on the situation too.

Well, it had proved fruitless, as of course the heroes weren’t exposing their actual plans, and most of what they told the public was just to placate them.

Besides, any news station that agreed to spread the propaganda surrounding Endeavor’s trial was not a credible source of information.

“Had enough, huh?”

Shigaraki huffed, glancing beside him on the bed to where Dabi was leaning back. He claimed he wanted to watch the news, but he was scrolling on his phone.

Shigaraki reached over and flicked his forehead.

“I thought you said you wanted to pay attention, moron.”

“And I thought you knew me better than that, bossman.” Dabi chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Besides, I got the gist. We’re doing everything we can. Sit tight. I can’t say anything else because the villains might be watching! Can you believe that? Villains watching the news? It’s almost as if they’re people, haha!”

Dabi’s reporter woman’s voice got a laugh out of Shigaraki, and he grinned in response.

“See? Told you I’m funny.”

Shigaraki rolled his eyes, leaning back on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

“How long is that kid going to stay here?”

Shigaraki honestly didn’t mind the kid, so long as he didn’t get in the way of their plans, most of which happened in the doctor’s laboratory anyway. But he needed to know exactly what the league was signing up for in taking in the kid. The heroes were bound to find their base and come crashing in, Hawks was already pissed at them, and Dabi had pretty much ignored all orders the past few days to take care of him.

“I don’t know, Tomura. As long as he wants. Do you have a problem with that?”

“I have a problem with you not doing your job.” Shigaraki huffed, glancing over at Dabi who was already looking at him. “But if he’s going to stay here much longer, he’s going to need his own bed. He can’t sleep on a couch forever.”

Dabi blinked at him, as if surprised, before shooting forward and tackling him.

“Aw, I knew you cared about him, boss!”

Shigaraki shrieked, doing his best to push the man off him, but Dabi was too heavy.

“Say, are you ticklish?”

Oh, hell no.

“Dabi, get the hell off me before I disintegrate your face!”

Dabi chuckled, stilling his movements, but he didn’t get off him either. Instead, he laid down right on Shigaraki, knocking the air out of his lungs.

“I would love to, boss, but unfortunately I am just so tired after a full day of brothering.”

“Dabi, no!” Shigaraki hissed, trying to shove him off and onto the floor. “You are not sleeping on me! Get off, I’m leaving!”

Dabi cackled, shaking his head. “I think I’m already falling asleep!”

Shigaraki let out a groan, giving up on shoving him away. Dabi would get bored eventually, he just had to stop entertaining him.

Something creaked at the door, causing both of them to look up. The door was shut, but they could see under the door two feet obstructing the light.

Dabi shuffled off the bed, elbowing Shigaraki several times in the process, and got to his feet to open the door.

Shigaraki pushed himself into a sitting position to see who it was, eyes meeting the sight of Dabi letting Shouto into the room.

“You can stay with me if you want?”

Shouto was eyeing Shigaraki warily, though he couldn’t be blamed. Even if he didn’t come from an unfortunate situation, everyone in their right mind was cautious around Shigaraki. That’s why the league was filled with idiots with no regard for their lives.

“You can share my bed.” Dabi continued on. “It’s not that big, but I can take the floor.”

Shouto finally looked away from Shigaraki, shaking his head at his brother. He opened his mouth several times in an attempt to speak before finally succeeding.

“You don’t have to…”

His voice was small, as expected. It was the first time Shigaraki had heard him speak during his time here.

“Nonsense! You have to have a bed, Shouto, and I’ve had plenty of experience sleeping without one!”

Shigaraki rolled his eyes, hoisting himself off the bed. There was an easy solution to this, but it meant swallowing his disgust and seeking the solution himself.

He walked past the both of them, ignoring the way the kid stiffened, and shot Dabi a look as he stepped out of the room.

He closed the door behind him, pulling out his phone as he dialed the dreaded number.

The phone barely rang until someone picked up.

“Master Shigaraki? Did you need something?”

Shigaraki bit back a sigh of resignation, walking away from the door and down the hallway.

“I need a few things, Redestro.”

After Tomura had left, Dabi and Shouto went back and forth about who should get the bed. It was almost reminiscent of casual sibling banter in a nostalgic way.

The air was a bit awkward, though. Dabi could tell that Shouto had been weird about Tomura. Of course, anyone would be if they didn’t know him—and even if they did—but Tomura’s abrupt exit had probably made Shouto think he wasn’t welcomed by the boss.

“It’s your room. You should get to keep your own bed.”

Shouto was pouting, which was a first. Dabi liked to see it though; it showed that he was more comfortable being himself here, and showing his true emotions.

“Ah, if you don’t want me to refuse the bed, then we can always share?” Dabi chuckled. “I won’t have you sleeping on the floor.”

Shouto pondered this for a moment.

“I don’t need a bed.” He mumbled, almost shyly. “I just… don’t really want to sleep alone. I don’t trust myself.”

Dabi’s heart proceeded to get stuck in his throat.

“Aw, Shouto!”

He embraced his brother, wrapping his arms around him gently. Shouto seemed to be getting more accustomed to receiving hugs from his brother, and he now reciprocated by wrapping his arms around Dabi in return.

After they pulled away, Dabi squared his shoulders.

“You get a bed. You have to. I’m demanding it.”

Shouto huffed, but Dabi could tell it was a little playful. “Fine, we’ll share so I don’t end up kicking you out of your own bed.”

Dabi nodded, and walked over to his bed to fix the covers so they would have an even distribution of blankets.

It was silent for a few moments before Shouto spoke up again.

“Do you think… Do your friends want me here?”

Dabi blinked, slowly turning back around to face Shouto.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well,” Shouto bit his lip, gesturing vaguely to the door. “Shigaraki…”

Dabi huffed out a chuckle. He was sure it wasn’t Tomura’s intention to make Shouto uncomfortable or anything. Sure, he didn’t know why he left—Tomura never had a problem imposing himself on others before—but he was sure there was a reason.

“Don’t mind Tomura.” Dabi waved off his brother’s worry, smiling easily. “He’s not the best at being outwardly affectionate or welcoming, but he and the rest of the league were just as riled up about your trial as I was.”

Shouto perked up a bit. “They were?”

He nodded. “Mhm. Tomura even dusted the TV when Endeavor was giving one of his statements. We were all on your side the whole time. I’m surprised none of them went to kidnap you before I did.”

Shouto blinked, as if he wasn’t able to fathom having a support group—even if it was made of villains—rooting for him and believing in him and supporting him the whole time.

Silently, he nodded, lost in his own thoughts. Dabi smiled, turning back to the bed to finish straightening up.

He had finally finished when the door to the room opened up, and Tomura walked back in.

He glanced at the both of them in turn.

“You might want to move to that side of the room.” He gestured in the direction of Dabi’s bed. “Just to make sure no one gets anything dropped on them.”

Dabi and Shouto both shared a look of confusion, but Shouto stepped over to where Dabi was, and Tomura turned back to wave someone in.

Before he knew it, several people with dark wood pieces and a mattress came waltzing into the other side of the room.

Dabi looked at Tomura, stunned.

“If your brother wants to be with you,” he shrugged, though Dabi could tell Tomura felt awkward under the awe of the others. “Then I suppose this can be his room until he wants his own.”

Dabi glanced at Shouto, who looked even more perplexed and speechless than he was. He was staring at Tomura like he was a divine being, and he just didn’t know what realm he came from. Heaven or hell, this was still someone reverent.

Dabi hated to admit that he sometimes felt the same way. Tomura could either be the definition of the devil, or the saving grace of the abandoned with nothing else left to lose.

The Liberation Army workers made quick work of assembling the bed, someone dropping a pack of bed covers before they had all left the room seemingly as quickly as they had arrived.

Tomura stood there awkwardly for a moment before nodding and turning to leave.

“Wait,” Dabi reached out, halting Tomura in his steps, before realizing he was about to do something embarrassingly sentimental and instead clapped his hand down on Tomura’s shoulder.

“Thanks, boss.”

Tomura stood there for a moment, face unchanging, before he rolled his eyes in that playful manner of his.

“It was the least I could do. It’s fun watching Redestro fall over backwards, after all.”

Dabi chuckled along with him. “Well, thanks for thinking of Shouto anyway. I’m glad for it.”

Tomura cast Shouto a quick, unreadable look, before looking back at Dabi and nodding.

“Anytime.”

With that, he turned for the final time and walked out of the room, gently shutting the door behind him.

From off to the side, Dabi heard Shouto release a breath, which he had probably been holding since Tomura came in.

“That was…”

Something he’d never expected from the leader of the League of Villains?

“Yeah.” Dabi found himself chuckling. “Say, why don’t we get these sheets on for you, eh? So you can get ready for bed.”

Shouto blinked at him, but nonetheless made way with Dabi to get the bed ready for the night.

Dabi huffed. If Tomura wanted Shouto to feel awkward and appreciated at the same time, then he was doing a terrific job so far.

Still, seeing his closest friends—probably more like family—in the league giving Shouto privacy and affection made his chest swell.

It was like the true versions of each of his families converging together without discrimination or judgment, in a way that would never have been possible in the society of heroes.

Enji was back.

Rei had seen everything on the news; she really didn’t need Enji’s recounting of the event. The way he was telling it was a lot more dramatic and victim-blaming than the event had actually seemed live on screen.

Rei really didn’t think Shouto had antagonized the villains and made himself easy to kidnap, as Enji had stated previously.

Strangely enough, she wasn’t trembling. Maybe it was because she’d gotten stronger thanks to the visits from all of her living children, or maybe it was fear because she had now lost yet another.

That was far scarier than anything Enji could do.

Besides, she had a help button on the side of her bed and routine check-ins from the nurses. He couldn’t get away with doing anything here, especially if he didn’t want it immediately proven to the public that he had been wrongly proven innocent.

Maybe she’d always known that, but hadn’t trusted that Enji would care. The Hero Commission would just cover up the evidence like they always did.

But now, because of the trial, the public was shaken. People on social media were popping up everywhere saying that the words of those in the Hero Commission could not be trusted because they were probably just covering for Enji. In fact, there were many people who sided with Shouto in the case. Those who didn’t were close to the Commission, which many people found to be suspicious.

Even though they had lost the trial, there was no way suspicion against Enji would go away in his lifetime. There was no way he could get away with nearly as much as he had been able to in the past.

If he did something to one of his family members now, there would be no telling how much backlash he would get. There was no avoiding it.

Maybe it was that thought that emboldened her. Or maybe she was just sick and tired of all of Enji’s shit.

“Maybe if you hadn’t-”

“Shut your mouth.”

Enji blinked, mouth agape and eyes widened. He seemed stunned that she had spoken back.

And for good reason. She was stunned at herself.

“Maybe if you hadn’t been such a horrible person in the first place, you wouldn’t have ruined our family. And maybe if you weren’t such a pathetic excuse for a hero, you wouldn’t have needed to use me and our children— children, Enji—to do what you will never achieve.”

He blinked, scowling once more.

“You dare speak to me like that? I’m the number one hero-”

“By default, dear. You didn’t earn that spot, All Might gave it to you as a handout when he retired.”

A fury she’d never felt before burned within her, igniting her very soul as he floundered for a way to put her in her place.

She wasn’t going to let that happen again.

This anger burned for Fuyumi, for Natsuo, for Touya, Shouto…

Mostly, this anger burned for herself. Was that selfish of her? Either way, she didn’t really mind. This had all started with her, and it might as well finish the same way.

“You want to atone, Enji?”

She stood up from her bed and walked past him, pulling open one of her desk drawers. She took out the small clear bag with her wedding ring in it, and she threw it as hard as she could at Enji’s head.

Sadly, she missed, hitting him in the chest. It wasn’t enough to cause him pain, but the hurt flashing in his eyes was worth it.

“You can start by getting out of my room. And you can finish by staying wherever you end up. We’ll take it upon ourselves to leave you behind. Our fates don’t depend on what you do. Wherever you are, whatever you do, we will work as hard as possible to be away, anywhere else but with you.”

She walked towards the door of her room, sliding it open and standing off to the side.

“Get out.” She narrowed her eyes, being unusually cold. “And don’t come back.”

Enji neglected to say anything else. He continued to stand there for a few pathetic minutes, looking dumber as each second passed, before eventually walking out without a word. If he turned to look back at her once through the door, she wouldn’t know, as she had pulled it shut the second he’d been through it.

All at once, that fiery passion and anger flooded out of her, and she dropped to her knees in front of the door. Shakily, she leaned back against it, heaving as if she hadn’t had a proper breath of air in too long.

She felt tears sliding down her cheeks, though she couldn’t tell if they were happy tears, or something else entirely.

At the very least, Enji was gone for now. And hopefully he would have second thoughts about returning anytime soon.

She heaved for a few more minutes before finally catching her breath. Her cheeks hurt, and she pressed her hands on them to cool them down, before coming to a shocking realization.

She had a wide, stretching grin on her face; a smile she hadn’t felt in decades.

UA was in a current state of emergency.

One of the students getting kidnapped, even if it wasn’t from a school run function, was still huge. Especially since many heroes were present, including the number one and the entirety of Class 1A.

Class had been canceled for the next few days while Shouto’s kidnapping got sorted out by the heroes and media. Until then, they were all confined to the dorms until further notice.

Midoriya was almost driven up the wall. He couldn’t lead a covert mission to save Shouto without getting caught, he couldn’t distract himself from the situation via burying himself in schoolwork, and he couldn’t even blow off steam in the gym since he was confined to the Class 1A Heights Alliance dorm building!

Seriously, what was there to do before he was driven mad?

He laid down to sleep, hoping that maybe some simple rest would help. But he seemed to lay there with no ability to fully fall asleep. He remained semi-conscious for hours on end.

He felt almost intangible hands running through his hair, almost as if it was part of a dream. The touch was so soft that it could’ve been a ghost.

Midoriya blinked open his eyes, gaze landing on white hair. For a split second he thought Shouto was back, but as he blinked more awake, he realized that sitting beside him on his bed playing with his hair was the First One for All user, Yoichi.

Ah, so it was a ghost touching his hair, technically.

“Wha-”

He tried to flex his jaw and tongue, as he was a little numb from sleep, but Yoichi just held a finger to his lips.

“Don’t fret, Ninth. Everything will be just fine.”

As Midoriya sat up more, his room began to look less like his room and more like the Vestige Realm. The others slowly began to come into focus as Yoichi continued stroking his hair.

“No need to wake up yet. Calm down; this isn’t anything serious.”

“Mhm,” said another voice… Hikage, the Fourth. “It’s not like we’re not allowed to talk to you casually, right? We’re here to give guidance, even for things not pertaining to One for All.”

Midoriya finally blinked fully awake, finding that the lower half of his face was once again gone. His pajamas were replaced with the green mist covering most of his body.

“You’re wondering what you can do in this situation, right?”

Midoriya looked at Second, who had his arms crossed as he leaned against the far wall.

“You’re still just a child, Ninth. Don’t try to shoulder everything on your own.”

“Second is right.” En nodded, leaning back against his chair. “Talk to your classmates. You’re all in the same boat here. I’m sure most of them are seeking a way to cope, and would jump at the chance to not be alone in their struggle.”

“Indeed.” Yoichi nodded, getting up from his spot on the floor and helping Midoriya stand. “That is the same reason you have us: people who understand your position, what you can do, so that they can help you when you’re in need of help. Help yourself and your classmates be at peace.”

Midoriya wanted to cry out his own objections: but Shouto was taken! Even if he wasn’t, he’d be back with Endeavor, his abuser! How is there an upside to this? They weren’t any closer to saving him! How could things possibly get better?

“Be at peace, Ninth.” Came Yoichi’s calm, soft voice. It was like the man had been built for the purpose of comforting others. Everything about him was comforting. “There is no problem that remains unsolvable with a change in perspective.”

“Maybe you aren’t meant to save your friend.” Second said, pushing off the wall and joining Yoichi’s side. “Maybe he’s destined to save himself, but he needs someone else to give him the confidence and strength to do so.”

“When I was saved from All for One,” Yoichi said, fingers once again reaching out to card through Midoriya’s hair. He listened intently, as Yoichi didn’t often like talking about his own past. “I was a miserable slave. I considered going back to my brother many times just to keep everyone out of trouble. I didn’t think I was worth rescuing.”

Second clenched his hand down on Yoichi’s shoulder, the other hand coming up to grip his waist in a protective, encouraging grip. Yoichi used his free hand to grip the hand on his shoulder gently.

“Second and Third, my heroes, may have rescued me, may have removed me from my prison, but nothing could have fully saved me and kept me safe had they not shown me that I wanted to believe in myself. That I wanted to be safe, I wanted to stand for myself. They are the reason I remained free, even after getting recaptured by my brother, until the day I died.”

Huh. Sometimes the Vestiges seemed so alive and human that Midoriya forgot he was technically seeing and talking to dead people.

“You cannot heal if you are determined not to.” Second declared, leveling Midoriya with a hard, stern look. “If you want to save your friend, keeping him from all harm isn’t the way to go. Sure, you can keep him physically safe, but if you want him saved, you’re going to need to convince him that he wants to be safe, and give him the strength to see it through to the finish line.”

Midoriya blinked. Maybe they were right. The reason Koda was happy now wasn’t because Midoriya had defeated Muscular, but because he had restored his faith in heroes.

Hell, the reason Midoriya was happy wasn’t because he was given a Quirk, but because he had been encouraged that he could be a hero, and had someone believe in him. Even if it hadn’t been All Might, the sentiment would’ve been the same.

Maybe Shouto didn’t want to be rescued. Maybe he didn’t think he could be, or that he deserved to be. He certainly seemed accepting of the outcome of the trial.

They were right; he needed Shouto to want to save himself before he could truly get there in the end. Shouto needed someone to love him, someone to believe in him, strengthen him, encourage and comfort him.

Midoriya couldn’t help but worry for him right now. He probably wasn’t getting any of what he needed from the League of Villains, regardless of their intentions with him. They had said they were saving him, but had they really been?

“Rest now, Ninth.” Yoichi’s hand rubbed melodically into his scalp. He swore he heard orchestral music playing to the rhythm of his fingers. “There is plenty to think about tomorrow. For now, sleep.”

Midoriya slowly felt himself begin to nod off, almost as if he was being put under a sleeping Quirk.

He heard a chorus of goodnight Ninth before he slipped fully out of consciousness.

Chapter Text

Shouto had a dream that night of a dark hallway, a hazy scene. It was a strange memory, he knew of this, but it had felt so surreal at the time that Shouto had thought he was dreaming.

In his memory, he was four years old, kneeling down on the floor of their home’s upstairs hallway. Touya was also kneeling in front of him, and Shouto was resting his forehead on Touya’s shoulder.

It was reminiscent of when Shouto had found out in the waking world that Dabi was his brother, having his forehead pressed into his older brother’s shoulder as he felt like crying. Though, at that time, Shouto was too afraid to cry.

Shouto didn’t really remember when this took place, whether it was before or after his Quirk came in. Endeavor had always assumed what his Quirk would be since the moment he saw Shouto’s hair, as Quirks are connected through DNA.

Shouto also didn’t know why Touya was holding him like this, as for the same reason Endeavor favored Shouto, Touya hated him.

He didn’t even remember if he had been the one to reach out to Touya, or why Touya would have reached out to him or accepted his touch in the first place.

Neither of them were saying anything. No words were spoken, and that was okay. If either of them said anything, they would no longer be able to ignore the glaring incorrectness of the moment they were sharing.

Touya was supposed to hate him. Shouto was supposed to accept that.

But just for this moment, this one moment, they pretended that they were in a normal family, two brothers who just loved each other and wanted to share a brief hug in a moment of respite.

And then it was over, Touya pushing him away and standing up, looking down at him for a moment as if in consideration before walking around him. Shouto did not bother to look over his shoulder to watch Touya go. It felt like all he saw was Touya’s back to him, so he wanted to savor the moment of Touya’s face.

And then Shouto opened his eyes. He was on his side, his left—he always slept either on his back or on his left side; it was his bad side that he often preferred to keep subdued.

Shouto lifted his eyes, taking in the other side of the room. The other bed was occupied by Touya, whose face was visible to him. He wasn’t turned away, even in his sleep. He was lying on his stomach, one arm draped over the bed which surely must have cut off his circulation.

Shouto found himself smiling slightly. The kindness he had been extended by the league had not been a dream after all; it was real. As real as the warmth Shouto felt in his chest.

It was strange… he had forgotten what it felt like to be warm.

He slowly uncurled his legs from his chest, dropping them over the side of the bed and pressing his feet against the floor. He felt a strange sense of peace within him, and he did not know where it had come from or why it was here. But it felt like a gift, so Shouto cherished it anyway.

Shouto thought about whether he should do anything before Touya got up. He wondered if it would be strange to be around the other league members without Touya present. But if Touya was still the same kid he used to be, he would probably be asleep well into the day.

Shouto saw that the television was on, just another reporter talking about the kidnapping of Todoroki Shouto, and how worried his family was.

He felt a twinge of guilt. He wanted Natsuo and Fuyumi to know he was fine. He was safe, but there was no way of informing them of that. Sure, he could text them, but then too many questions would be raised on why he was allowed his phone, why he hadn’t come home, why he was safe. He didn’t think Touya’s identity was for him to share at the current moment. Touya would tell them in his own time, however that would end up looking.

“Our hearts go out to the Todoroki family in this time of crisis. After a brief interview, the words his mother wanted to say to him…”

The blood rushing through Shouto’s ears blocked out the rest of what she was going to say.

He told- they- she knew?

Shouto’s world came to a screeching halt.

Fuyumi and Natsuo were playing chess while Rei was doing some Sudoku at her desk. Rei stared at the page of her book, staring at the empty boxes she hadn’t even begun to fill out yet.

Enji had told her about the trial, and about Shouto’s kidnapping. Her lovely children had come clean about Shouto not wanting her to know about any of what was going on so that she wouldn’t worry. He was such a sweet boy, but he never knew when to prioritize himself. She could handle this, she was a grown woman. Sure, it was hard and she did not react well at first, but mostly she just wanted her precious boy to be safe and happy.

Given the situation, it was strange she wasn’t more high strung. It was strange she could sit here and even think about doing something fun while Shouto was somewhere in the custody of the League of Villains. It was strange that she could listen to Fuyumi and Natsuo play chess on her bed at a time like this.

If Shouto was not with the League of Villains, he would be with Enji right now. It may be a little bit of a stretch to say that one is a drastically better situation than the other, but Rei just knew that if Shouto had gone home with him after the trial, he would have been in for the ‘training session’ of a lifetime. Probably to ‘teach him discipline’, which was just a fancy way of saying ‘warning him to never step out of line and disobey him ever again’.

“Uh, checkmate.”

Rei glanced up at her children. Natsuo had just moved his queen and did, in fact, have Fuyumi’s king in checkmate. Fuyumi was staring at the board as if only half paying attention.

“Huh,” Fuyumi muttered. “Guess so.”

The sight was strange. Natsuo rarely ever beats Fuyumi in chess. Judging by the look he was giving her, he had not expected that win either. His face wasn’t that of a winner, but left unsatisfied. She must have been distracted the whole time they were playing against each other.

Rei sighed, setting down her Sudoku on her desk and getting up from her chair. She walked over to her bed, wrapping her arms around the heads of her children and pressing them into her. She held the backs of their heads and kissed both of their foreheads.

“I know I have not been a stellar mother to either of you,” she sighed, rubbing at their scalps softly. They both took a shuddering breath in. “But know that you can rely on me. You don’t have to be strong all the time, my dears.”

Fuyumi’s hand slowly came up to clasp at the back of Rei’s shirt. She dug her face into Rei’s chest, and Rei felt the wetness from Fuyumi’s eyes slip out. Natsuo remained in that position, shoulders hunched and breath hitching. He pressed his face into her arm, biting his lip as he shook.

Rei just held them, soothingly rubbing her thumbs into their hair and muttering soft words of encouragement.

Shigaraki did not know how he ended up here.

He found the kid in the courtyard, at the near asscrack of dawn. Well, like six in the morning, but all the same to the League of Villains.

Obviously, no one was awake at this time, so the courtyard was empty except for the two of them. Shigaraki had just gotten done with a long talk and prepping session—i.e. electrocution chair—with Dr. Ujiko, and was finally ready to get some well deserved sleep when he walked into the courtyard, seeing the hero kid looking visibly upset.

He could just ignore it, which he was prone to, but at the same time he did not want anything stupid happening because he let Dabi find out about this—yes, that’s definitely the only reason.

So he walked up to the bench where the kid was sitting, hunched over and breathing heavily.

“Yo.”

The kid froze for half a second before looking up at him with wide eyes.

This was as far as Shigaraki knew how to handle. He was unprepared in the realm of comforting others. So instead he just plopped down on the bench next to the kid and sighed.

“Long day?”

The kid blinked, as if unsure what to say. Slowly, he shook his head.

Shigaraki grumbled to himself. “Well, I’ve had a long day. Can’t believe it’s only like six in the damn morning.”

He leaned his head back on the bench and let out a sigh, looking up at the sky through the open-air courtyard. He tapped his foot mindlessly, deciding that the kid was not going to talk unless prompted.

“What are you doing out here looking like a mess?” He shot the kid a look, raising an eyebrow. “You know you can always get your idiot brother.”

The kid looked down at his hands, playing with the hem of his shirt. He seemed to be debating answering the question, but was rightfully wary of having a conversation with Shigaraki.

Finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

“...she knows about the trial.” He hung his head. “And that I’ve been sent back to Endeavor.”

Shigaraki furrowed his eyebrows. “Who’s ‘she’?”

The kid blinked, raising his eyes and briefly looking at Shigaraki as if surprised at the question. Well, it wasn’t like Shigaraki was a mind reader. He couldn’t exactly deduce who the kid was talking about when he barely knew anything about the kid personally.

“My… mother.”

The word seemed to come out a little rough, almost unpracticed. The kid seemed confused at what to do about the word. He must not use it often.

An image flashed through Shigaraki’s mind, so quick he couldn’t get a good look at it. Brown eyes and a soft smile. Familiar, but just out of reach. After his fight with Redestro, he had gained his memories back, but the images of what his family looked like were hazy at best.

Except for his father. He could remember that bastard’s face irritatingly clearly.

Shigaraki shook away those thoughts, as they would only serve to be distractions right now. But he couldn’t help the weird feeling in his chest as he thought about those brown eyes and that soft smile. The kindness that radiated from them. His gut twisted at the thought of someone like that to him learning something so horrible.

He hummed in understanding, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“And what are you going to do about it?” He cocked his head, looking over at the kid. “I mean, you seem kind of conflicted, so I assume you’re debating some sort of decision on what to do.”

The kid sighed, clenching his fists into his pants so hard his knuckles turned white.

“...I’m going to go back.”

Shigaraki was surprised, but he didn’t let it show. He nodded in understanding.

“I’m guessing you’ve thought hard about this. Is this the best decision?”

The kid took a shaky inhale before nodding. “I want them to know I’m okay. And I… feel strong enough to leave.”

Shigaraki felt pride expand in his chest. Maybe for his league handling the kid, or maybe for the kid himself now being able and willing to stand on his own.

“One thing you gotta learn,” he crossed his ankles and looked at the kid head on. Surprisingly, the kid faced him, maintaining eye contact. “Is that people can and will help you. It’s okay for them to help you. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without the rest of the league.”

The kid nodded, as if he had heard this before. But Shigaraki wasn’t done.

“But,” he held up a finger. The kid blinked at him. “No matter how much help they offer, you will only accept what you think you deserve, want or need. A lot of their help will be wasted, and that’s no one’s fault. But in the end, getting better is the outcome of your hard work and decisions. No one can force you to accept help, so when you do accept that help, it’s coming from your motivation of wanting to be better.”

The kid looked at him weirdly. He seemed dumbfounded in a way, either from what Shigaraki was saying or that it was Shigaraki saying it. Shigaraki himself did not really know why he was giving this kid a lecture on getting better.

He let out a sigh, shaking his head slightly before looking back at the kid.

“So,” he leaned his arm over the back of the bench and met the kid’s eyes again. “Do you want to be saved yet?

The kid frowned, pinching his brow. “...I want to save myself.”

“That’s a good thing, I guess.” Shigaraki shrugged. “But that’s not exactly what I asked, now is it?”

The kid looked down at his lap, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. He seemed to debate for a moment before finally looking up at Shigaraki, the look in his eyes more solid.

Shigaraki found himself smiling even before the kid answered.

Dabi was pissed when he woke up to no sign of Shouto. He wasn’t anywhere in the base. He was starting to panic by the time Tomura found him.

“Dabi!”

He knew better than to ignore that tone, turning to face Tomura despite how frazzled he looked.

“What? I’m a little busy-”

“You’re looking for the kid, I know.” Tomura rolled his eyes, and Dabi frowned.

“How did you…?”

Tomura sighed, stepping up closer with a grimace that immediately set Dabi on edge.

“What happened? Where’s Shouto?”

Tomura stopped in front of him, previous awkwardness gone as he looked up at Dabi with an expression full of his natural leadership.

“Shouto… went back home.”

Dabi felt his eyes widen, his blood running cold. No, it couldn’t be… he couldn’t go back to Endeavor!

Dabi hadn’t even realized that he was walking away until Tomura’s hand was reaching out to stop him. He didn’t even think to flinch at the touch, knowing his boss wasn’t in any way going to use his Quirk on him.

“Dabi.” Tomura’s voice was authoritative. He wasn’t talking to him as a friend right now, but as his boss. “The kid left for his own reasons. You can’t keep him here forever.”

Dabi frowned, facing Tomura and trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

“But, Shouto… he didn’t even tell me he was leaving.”

Tomura sighed softly, removing his hand from Dabi’s arm. “He was always going to leave. We’re the League of Villains-”

“Ah, Meta Liberation Army!”

Tomura shot a scathing glare at the villain passerby, who shrank in on himself immediately.

“Er, sir.”

He scurried off without a moment’s notice to keep himself from being obliterated.

Tomura rolled his eyes and turned back to Dabi.

“The kid, Endeavor’s son or not, is a hero kid. It’s in his nature to be good. He’s better than any of us, and it’s selfish to try to keep him here. In a place of scum like us, there’s no room for the pristine.”

Dabi could tell that it was mostly Tomura’s inner thoughts talking, but he couldn’t exactly disagree. Shouto, while his brother, didn’t belong in with the villains permanently. If he was ready to go…

He just wished that his little brother had come to say goodbye to him before he up and left without a word.

He buried the hurt deep inside his chest. There was no use getting worked up over it now. If Shouto was where he wanted to be, then Dabi would support it.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t worried, though.

“I must say, you did well on this one, Dabi.”

Dabi turned to face Tomura with wide eyes at hearing his boss’s rare praise. Tomura was… smiling at him. Genuinely.

His boss crossed his arms. “The kid is ready to let himself be saved for once. It’s probably foreign to him, but I’m sure you were a good teacher.”

Dabi sighed softly, feeling warmth bloom in his chest. He had always wished that he would be allowed to be saved, from his father, from himself, from the world. He wanted someone—anyone—to reach their hand out to him and tell him that he didn’t need to worry about anything anymore.

Maybe he was still a bit salty that he hadn’t ever had that experience as a child, but he was still glad he could be that for Shouto.

A hand crept into his line of sight, and he glanced down at the crusty fingers, skin cracked and dry but nonetheless inviting.

Dabi raised his eyes to look Tomura in the eye.

“Come on,” Tomura muttered quietly, jerking his chin in the other direction. “It’s cold in this hallway. I want to sleep.”

Dabi felt his own face break out into a small smile as he reached forward and took the hand gratefully.

Not exactly the savior he had been waiting for all those years ago… but Tomura would do, Dabi supposed.

Hawks raised an eyebrow at the unexpected phone call from Toga, but he didn’t hesitate to rush to his office to take the call.

“Any update on the kid?”

Of course that was the first thing out of his mouth.

“Wow, not gonna even say hi first?” Toga mused lazily on the other line. “Is it always straight into business with you?”

“Yeah, we could just be calling for a friendly chat! We’d never call you for anything!”

Hawks suppressed a sigh. While he’d calmed down over the past couple days, he still was extremely high strung from everything going on.

“If you did call for fun, I’ll have to call you back. Endeavor is off the walls angry at everyone, and the Commission is on my ass about the missing kid. Unless you’re calling me about an update on Shouto, then I don’t-”

“Ah, I knew you’d love the news we’d be bringing then! You’re gonna hate it!”

“Shut up! Don’t ruin the surprise, Jin!”

Hawks frowned, his wings perking up a little. “What do you mean? You have news about Shouto?”

He didn’t even realize he was pacing until he had to turn around before he hit the wall. Dammit, he did not have enough room in his office for this. He wanted nothing more than to take a quick flight around the city.

“Let’s just say the canary is out of its bird cage!”

Hawks frowned, not sure what Toga was trying to insinuate. Hawks was still very much in his office, and usually he was the butt of all bird puns.

“What does that even mean?”

He was met with a loud cackle on the other end from Jin, and Toga’s long suffering sigh.

“The kid left our base. He’s out of our hands now.”

Hawks shot up frantically, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling. He shoved his office window open and launched himself out into the open air. Not just because he was excited to see the kid, but also because he didn’t want anyone from the Commission to be listening in on his phone call. They would surely notify Endeavor, and Hawks wanted a chance at intercepting the kid before he got involved.

“Where is he?” Hawks snapped out, a bit breathlessly from his sudden departure into the frigid morning air. “When did he leave?”

“Hell if I know!” Toga huffed into the receiver. “I’m just the messenger! Only Tomura-kun knows exactly when he left, but the boss just went to sleep!”

Hawks tried not to think about that too much. Had Shigaraki sent Shouto off? Was it for a particular reason?

“Any reason you guys let him out?”

He could almost hear Toga rolling her eyes on the other line.

“We told you, he wasn’t being held prisoner over here! He left on his own, escorted himself out while most of us were asleep. I really can’t tell you where he went.”

“Ooh! Maybe he went out for some pancakes? He’s probably turning us over to the Hero Commission!”

Toga just huffed. “Whatever he’s doing, it’s none of our business. And it’s really not yours either, birdie. But we figured we’d let you know before Endeavor caught wind of it.”

Hawks found himself smiling a bit. The league knew how to be courteous when it really counted.

“You guys… thank you.”

“Eeeewwww! Don’t be getting all sentimental on us now, Hawks!” Toga whined, and Hawks felt himself stifle either a huff or a chuckle—even he wasn’t quite sure. “Just go find the kid so we don’t have to worry about Endeavor for a while. I’m tired of having that man’s face constantly in my brain.”

Hawks nodded, though she wouldn’t be able to see. “On it.”

She hung up before any more words were spoken, but their conversation was over anyway. He sent a few feathers out to search the nearby areas as he flew straight in the direction of the woods where the league’s base was. The kid would’ve had to take some sort of path to get into civilization, and this was the closest settlement nearby.

I’m coming, kiddo. He thought to himself, relieved that he’d see the kid again but also nervous about the possible confrontation with Endeavor.

Just sit tight… I’m on my way.

Shouto found himself on a fairly empty street, just walking down the sidewalk without much of a care in the world. Ever since being at the league’s hideout, he’d felt much calmer than ever before, and he felt that strange sense of peace even now.

He sort of wished he’d woken his brother up to say goodbye—who knew when the next time they saw each other would be, and if they’d go back to being hostile. He didn’t even know what to think of the villains now.

In the end, though, he knew that leaving without telling Touya was the best move. He could tell his older brother was quite protective, and while it was nice to be cared about for once instead of being expected to carry the weight of everyone else’s expectations, he didn’t want his decision to be questioned.

In the moment, it had felt right to just get up from the bench and walk towards the mansion’s exit. Shigaraki hadn’t even tried to stop him, and had only watched him go from where he was still sitting on the bench. No more words were spoken between them as the worst villain in the world let his potentially greatest hostage walk away without a care in the world.

Shouto was thankful for the utter lack of resistance. If they had put up any kind of a fight for him to stay, he would’ve in a heartbeat. But that’s not what he needed. He knew it now, he needed to be on his own two feet again. He was ready to try this time.

Most of all, he wanted to see his mom.

The word was foreign to him, despite him trying to rekindle the relationship they’d barely had when he was young. His face used to burn whenever he’d even thought of the word mother, but now it felt as if the world around him was strangely quiet, everything whispering in hushed tones to give him the peaceful, straightforward path to his mother.

He wanted to see her, and hoped that Natsuo and Fuyumi were with her right now. He wanted to see them both too, though he probably wouldn’t be so lucky. Natsuo was probably at school, and Fuyumi was more than likely working right now. Their lives couldn’t be put on pause for Shouto.

Not that he wanted them to. But he did wish he could see them without delay.

The thought of Endeavor didn’t cross his mind even once as he leisurely walked down the street, oblivious to anyone who might’ve been looking at him in shock or confusion.

He hopped on a train to Musutafu, the time spent on the tracks negligible to the content feeling coursing through his veins the closer he got.

He got off at his stop, walking up to the main road quickly and taking the route he was used to by now. He ignored the billboards with news reporters waxing on, probably talking about him. He couldn’t hear them at all. He could only hear his steady breathing, his even footsteps as he neared his destination.

The nurse at the counter seemed shocked when he came up to her at the desk, asking to see his mother. She gave no complaint and let him sign himself in.

He wondered briefly if she was going to notify someone, even if she wasn’t supposed to. Though, he found that he didn’t particularly care.

He knocked on the door gently, receiving no rebuttal so he slowly slid the door open.

She looked just like he was used to seeing her, sitting at her desk and facing the window. He shut the door before she had turned around, and once she did it seemed to take her a moment to catch up before her eyes widened.

He remained where he was as they just held eye contact for a while, staring at each other. Now that he was here, he didn’t quite know what to say.

The first thing on his tongue was the confession of Touya’s identity, but he shoved that down as soon as it arose. That was probably not his secret to tell, especially not right now.

He wondered if his mother would ask him how he was treated by the villains, or how he was doing after the court case, or why he’d tried to kill himself.

But then she got up from her chair and hurried to wrap her arms around him in a cold embrace.

They stood like that for a few moments, silent, until she cupped the back of his head and pressed her forehead against his collarbone.

“Oh, Shouto… I love you so much, my brave boy.”

Instantly it felt as though his worry melted away, and he wrapped his arms around her instinctively. He let his forehead fall onto her shoulder and breathe in deeply. She smelled like pine needles and periwinkle, a winter chill surrounding her comfortably.

“Hey, Mom…”

She hugged him tighter before pulling away slightly, running her thumb over his cheek and pulling him to sit on her bed with her. It would seem that Natsuo and Fuyumi were not here at the moment.

“It seems we have a lot to talk about, huh?”

Shouto met her eyes, saw her warm smile and the picture of unconditional love on her face. He felt… truly at home here. She was the last person he needed assurance from before he could bear to see Endeavor.

He simply nodded, not knowing what else to do. Certainly he couldn’t be totally honest about his time with the league, but he could do to assure her of his well being.

“Yes, I think we do.”

Midoriya rolled out of bed early, ready to get ready for the school day. Regrettably, they had all sort of adjusted to life without Shouto around. Life went on without him regardless, so they could either get swept along with it or fall behind.

Of course, it was still a struggle to not see him opening a tupperware of cold soba at seven in the morning for god knows why, or not see him working out on the front lawn before the sun had even risen. But for the most part, they were expected to handle it.

Plenty of their class was already in the common room ready to head out. Most of them were listening to the news—they wanted to know if the League of Villains made any plans to use Shouto for leverage—and others were in the kitchen chatting quietly.

Midoriya began making himself some breakfast, mindlessly listening to Tokoyami and Aoyama trade eyeliner tips back and forth, Jirou occasionally piping up from where she was stirring something in a pan on the stove. Life went on, it almost felt normal.

But then his classmates standing around the television gasped, and Midoriya nearly dropped his plate.

“He was spotted!” Denki cried, jumping up from the couch to run around the room, nearly tripping on a spare wire. “They spotted Todoroki at the train station here in Musutafu!”

Midoriya shot up, breakfast forgotten as he booked it to the couches, the rest of his classmates hot on his heels.

The photo of the train station platform was blurry, but there was no mistaking that perfectly split red and white hair. Shouto’s body language was relaxed, his hands tucked into his pockets as he seemed to patiently wait for the crowd of people to file out of the station in front of him.

He wondered where Shouto was going. This picture was taken a few hours before the news had picked up on it, so maybe he was on his way back to UA?

Or maybe Endeavor…

Midoriya stamped out that voice in his mind. Today was a school day, so Shouto had every right to go back to campus first thing. Endeavor couldn’t do anything about that.

The doors to the building slammed open, and all of their gazes snapped to the new visitors. Ah, it was Nezu, Present Mic and Aizawa.

Their teacher looked frazzled, to say the least. He sent his strongest glare at the entire class as a warning.

“You all are to stay put and go to class. No funny business.”

Immediately several students frowned and stepped forward.

“But-”

“No.” Aizawa shut them all up with another glare. “If I find out you did anything, I’ll expel the entire class.”

Midoriya cocked his head. “Are you leaving?”

“Where are you going?” Someone else called, but they all knew where he’d be going if he was leaving so suddenly.

Aizawa shook his head. “Out. Now behave.”

He grabbed Present Mic’s arm and hauled him out of the room, leaving the class with just the principal. The creature smiled tightly, obviously not pleased with being stuck on babysitting duty.

“Classes will start in about half an hour, so I would suggest getting to the classroom early.”

The entire room shuffled silently as some people went to get their shoes on or grab a few things before leaving. Midoriya trudged back to the kitchen to hopefully finish up the last of his breakfast quickly.

“Ah, shit.” Jirou sighed apathetically. “Burned my egg.”

Fuyumi was so glad she had been the one to pick up the phone.

Endeavor was in the home gym, and had let her come back to the house to grab something quick. He always had been just slightly easier on her than any of her brothers because she willingly obeyed him, and he didn’t expect much from her outside of covering what Mom used to do around the house. It was hard for her to disappoint him.

Fuyumi was just grabbing some medication she’d left here in her hurry to leave a few days ago. It was medication she could live without, but she would have preferred to get it back anyway.

Maybe it was because of everything happening with Shouto, but Endeavor seemed too preoccupied with his missing masterpiece to care whether or not another one of his kids needed to come back home briefly.

She was moving as fast as possible, checking the bathroom and kitchen where the medications were kept. She made sure to grab Natsuo’s too, and Shouto’s just in case. She frowned upon seeing that the prescription bottle he kept at home was nearly full.

She was just heading for the door when the house phone rang. Normally, she would’ve let it go to voicemail for Endeavor to call whoever it was back later. But she heard the number the machine read out, and instantly recognized it.

Mom’s hospital…!

She picked up the phone as fast as she could, worried that something had happened to her mother. She couldn’t even form words to say through her panic, leaving the phone call awkwardly silent.

“Uh… Todoroki-san?” A lady’s voice came through the receiver. Fuyumi held her breath. “Um, I’m calling to inform you about a visit to your wife. Your son, Todoroki Shouto, just came to the hospital.”

Fuyumi felt the air around her freeze, her lungs feeling as though they were oxidizing. She just hung up the call as her entire body began shaking.

She didn’t remember rushing out of the house, nor calling Natsuo. But before she knew it, she was being picked up by her brother on a random sidestreet she had apparently been taking to walk to the hospital.

“Get in.” Natsuo said, not looking much better than herself. “If Shouto’s really there, we gotta get to him first.”

Hawks was on the move to Musutafu the moment he heard that Shouto had been spotted there. The only bad thing was, since it was now on the news, it was only a matter of time before Endeavor either found out or before the Commission called him to inform him directly. The only solace was that Endeavor didn’t know where he was, but neither did the rest of them.

He got in contact with Aizawa, who told him the areas available UA staff were covering in the search. Hawks expanded the search area, thinking to himself where the kid could possibly have gone if not back to his school.

His heart pounded in his chest at the thought that no one could find Shouto because he’d already gone back to Endeavor. Hawks didn’t want to even entertain that thought, but he couldn’t stop the worried nagging in the back of his mind.

He thought about calling Shouto himself, but he was sure the League of Villains would have done something to his phone, or just taken it. He didn’t want to take the chance.

So he flew. He flew long after his eyes grew strained and his wings grew sore. He would continue to fly until he knew Shouto was safe.

The League of Villains had called him around the time that a work day would usually start, and had insinuated that the kid had left much earlier than that. He and the other heroes had lost hours of time not knowing how long Shouto had to travel long distances before the chase was on. Even the photo from the train station had only been released a few hours after the footage had been caught by the cameras when the station security had switched out shifts.

Daylight was rapidly ticking away, the chance of finding Shouto before Endeavor becoming smaller and smaller the faster the sun dipped towards the horizon.

Anxiety crawled deep into Hawks’ chest, though he refused to let it take root.

He would find Shouto… it would be okay…

Hopefully.

Shouto sat on the bed, talking with his mom without a care in the world when Fuyumi and Natsuo burst into the room.

He looked up at them serenely, almost not processing the fact that he’d technically been missing—considered kidnapped—for days now. He saw the looks of panic and worry written all over their faces, and immediately stood.

Fuyumi didn’t wait for Shouto to fully get to his feet before rushing forward and tackling him back onto the bed in a fierce hug. Natsuo remained a bit more hesitant, but soon stepped over and sat beside them on the bed, wrapping his arms around both of them. Shouto could hear him exhale shakily.

He let both of his older siblings embrace him, feeling the same warmth from their arms as he had felt from Touya.

The secret hurt to keep—that Touya was alive; that Shouto had seen him and knew where he was even now—but he knew that it was something he had to keep to himself. Not just to respect Touya’s privacy, but also to keep him safe.

He missed Touya, though, he had to admit. After having been separated from him for so long, having barely known him in the first place, it felt wrong to be away from him now. He finally got his brother back, but he’d had to leave him behind this time without even saying goodbye.

He wondered if this is how Touya felt when he left their family…

Although, Touya hadn’t gotten much of a choice at first.

They didn’t speak for a while, just holding each other silently. Mom was quiet at her desk for a while, and then Shouto heard the faint sound of a pen scratching against paper. Her soft humming began to accompany the sound, a faint song he vaguely remembered hearing in his early childhood, if he strained his memory hard enough.

It was in the arms of his siblings, reminiscing in the memories of his mother, of Touya, that he truly felt like he might want to be alive.

…that he felt like maybe it was okay for someone to save him.

“Shouto…” Fuyumi breathed out, her arms wrapping around Shouto even tighter. “I was so worried…”

“They didn’t…” Natsuo cleared his throat, his voice breaking slightly. “Those villains didn’t hurt you, did they?”

Shouto thought he might hear doubt in Natsuo’s voice, as if he didn’t even take his own question seriously.

Surely, Natsuo thought any fate was better than ending up back under Endeavor’s thumb. And Shouto had to agree.

Slowly, he shook his head.

“No… they treated me fine.”

He hoped they wouldn’t ask questions. He didn’t want to have to answer.

As if his prayers had been answered, they didn’t pry about anything else. Fuyumi pulled away first, cupping Shouto’s face in her palms gently as she looked lovingly into his face.

For the first time, he welcomed the love. He was finally starting to think that he was allowed to accept it.

Was love even something that you had to be worthy to receive?

“Oh, Shouto…” She stroked her thumb gently over his cheek. “I’m… I’m so happy to see you. You have no idea…”

Her voice broke, her teary eyes spilling a few down her cheeks. Shouto did nothing to stop her from crying. He knew how his sister never let herself properly show her emotions for the sake of her younger brothers. He wanted her to have this.

He just smiled softly at her in return.

“Thank you… for worrying about me.” He lowered his head a bit. “For… loving m-”

She pulled Shouto to her chest. He felt Natsuo pull away as Fuyumi cradled Shouto against her. She was sniffling, but no one commented. Mom’s gentle humming continued on calmly in the background. Natsuo’s hand remained a firm and steadying constant against Shouto’s back.

“Don’t thank us…” Fuyumi whispered under her breath. “It’s no burden to love and care for you. We- we want to! If you’ll… let us…”

Shouto swallowed back the tears that threatened to begin to build if he wasn’t careful. He found himself nodding slowly.

“I’d… I’d like that… to be saved.”

Fuyumi let out a wet chuckle, and Natsuo leaned closer from behind.

“We’d be happy to help save you, Shouto.” He brought his hand up to Shouto’s shoulder and gripped him assuringly. “I’m glad you want us to.”

Shouto made no comment on how strangely easy it apparently was to ask for that…

He… he was starting to think that this might be what letting himself be loved feels like.

Aizawa hadn’t felt this frustrated in a long time.

The search for Shouto had to be put on hold. And even worse, Endeavor had just recently taken to the media to make a public statement about the return of his son. He was demanding information from anyone who might know Shouto’s whereabouts, and threatened those who may have been harboring him and keeping Shouto from his father.

As if Endeavor could even call himself that.

It was past dark by now. The public had been made aware of Todoroki’s freedom for over half a day now, and still the heroes had nothing. The smallest consolation was that it seemed Endeavor had nothing to go on either.

Aizawa had just returned to UA, realizing that he was going to have to face his class and tell them that Shouto hadn’t been found, when he got a call.

Todoroki Fuyumi’s name appeared on his screen, and he didn’t hesitate to answer it. Maybe, if he was lucky…

“Aizawa-san?” Her voice was quiet. If he listened, he could hear the sounds of a car engine. “Natsuo and I are driving to UA right now.”

Aizawa nodded. Fuyumi was still staying with them, after all. He knew she had been allowed to get a few remaining things from Endeavor’s house much earlier in the day. How long did it take her to retrieve them?

“Aizawa-san…” Her voice lowered, as if she was afraid of being overheard. “We have Shouto with us.”

He froze, stopping before he reached the dorm buildings a few meters away.

“You have…?”

“Yes.” She muttered. “We’re bringing him to UA now.”

He had so many questions. He turned to look over his shoulder, where the press was crowding UA’s front gate. He’d had to fight through them just to get inside the property.

They’d never make it inside with Shouto. And all those cameras…

“Don’t bring him here.” He said quickly, rushing to the door and sticking his head inside. “Midoriya.”

The said student squeaked, popping up from amongst his friends on the couch quickly.

“Y-yes, Aizawa-sensei?”

Aizawa jerked his head backwards. “Come with me.”

He didn’t wait to see if he was following him, instead shooting a text to Hawks as he walked towards the gate.

“I want you to go to Midoriya’s apartment. Do you know the address?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few moments.

“Ah, Shouto says he knows the address. Why?”

Midoriya caught up with him as he answered. “There are too many reporters in front of UA. We’ll meet there. At this rate, there’s no way you’ll get him into UA property safely, so he can stay with Hawks again.”

“Was he with Hawks before?”

Aizawa grunted in affirmation. “Before the trial.”

“Aizawa-sensei,” Midoriya muttered quietly as they neared the gate, reporters crying out for them. “What’s going on?”

Aizawa made sure to lower his voice and keep his lips from moving too much so the reporters couldn’t tell what he was saying from this distance.

“They’re bringing Shouto back.”

Midoriya’s eyes widened, but before he could say anything they reached the gate.

“Move!” Aizawa began nudging his way through the crowd, keeping a firm hand on Midoriya’s arm. “This student is sick and needs to go home.”

The crowd reluctantly parted. Midoriya looked pale and queasy enough to pull it off too, which definitely helped sell the act. It took them only a few minutes to get through the crowd and rush to faculty parking.

“And we’re going to my house?”

Aizawa nodded. “I hope you don’t mind. I just need somewhere we can trust so that Hawks can take him in before anyone else finds him. It’s only a matter of time before Endeavor turns his suspicions on UA or Shouto’s siblings for hiding him. He could get a warrant to search the campus, and with the Commission’s help he’ll definitely get one.”

His phone buzzed, indicating a message. Since he’d been in constant contact with Hawks all day, he figured it must be him responding to the message.

Hawks lives in another city, and his involvement with the case was never aired to the public. Shouto was spotted in Musutafu, so it’s only natural that people would assume he went either to his siblings or his school for help.

He should be safe with Hawks above anyone else right now.

“We’re on our way.” Fuyumi said into the phone again. “We should be there shortly.”

Aizawa unlocked his car, noticing Midoriya texting someone on his phone as he got in on the passenger side. Probably his mother.

“We’ll get there as soon as we can. Hawks is already on his way.”

Anxiety filled his chest to such heights that it threatened to overflow, but he made himself shove it down. This was a race against the clock, against Endeavor, to get Shouto out of the city before he suspected anything.

They only had one shot to pull this off. They couldn’t mess up now.

Shouto looked down at the bowl of hot soup placed in front of him by Midoriya-san. She is just like her son, so kind and caring to others.

Briefly, he thought of Touya again, of the rest of the league even. No matter how strange the notion. He remembered Mr. Compress giving him a styrofoam container of takeout. He remembered Toga giving him a spare set of chopsticks. He remembered Spinner offering him napkins when Twice and Toga inevitably got into a food fight. He even remembered Shigaraki sitting there on that bench, telling him to let someone else save him for a change.

The villains… what kind people they were, at heart.

The front door suddenly shook with loud and hurried knocks. Shouto knew that there were three people it could be. Midoriya-san walked over to answer it as Fuyumi and Natsuo stood at the end of the hallway, acting as a kind of barrier.

What kind people all of them were. It made him briefly forget about the cruel people he used to know all his life. The parent who only looked at him as an opportunity, a weapon. The Commission Agents who turned the other cheek at his newest bruise or scar, who told him it was normal as a hero’s kid.

The door opened, and suddenly he heard frantic whispers.

“Where is he? Is he here?”

Hawks.

It was a warm feeling, kind of like how he felt with Touya. A caretaker, a brother almost. Someone who was there when no one else could be.

He rushed into the apartment, Natsuo and Fuyumi letting him pass by. Shouto carefully put his bowl on the small table in front of him, and before he could even fully stand up he was being tackled in a crushing hug.

For a moment, the world held its breath as Hawks held him, his feathers twitching anxiously as though he were afraid Shouto would disappear the moment he let go.

“Oh, kid…” His voice was tired, relieved and fragile all at once. It made Shouto’s heart wince with guilt at worrying him, but then Hawks pulled back and saw nothing but relief and happiness in those eyes.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you.”

Shouto nodded, giving a small smile in return that he wasn’t sure Hawks could even see.

“I think I have an idea.”

Hawks chuckled and pulled him back into his arms for another brief hug before letting him go.

“Your teacher told me to come here. We’re going to find a way to keep you from Endeavor forever, I promise.”

Before Shouto could open his mouth, there was another knock on the door, and Shouto held his breath again.

Midoriya… he’s with Aizawa-sensei. I haven’t seen him since…

Suddenly, his arms itch where his scars are still scabbing over. The feeling of dozens of pills sits deep in his stomach, a crushing weight of guilt. He can almost feel the ledge inches away from his toes, the fall in front of him teasing him as the wind whips through his hair, threatening to push him off to never get back up.

What if…

But then the door opened, and Midoriya didn’t stop. He rushed past everyone, hopping over the back of the couch and jumping on Shouto hard enough to knock them both over. Several people in the room laughed endearingly, and Shouto looked up from where he was laying on his back. His eyes met Midoriya’s, teary as his smile wobbled but remained steadfastly in place.

“S-sorry, Shouto, I-”

Shouto blinked. Since when did Midoriya call him that? Not that it was unwelcome-

Midoriya suddenly crushed him in a hug, crying softly as he clung to him for dear life. Shouto blinked, but wrapped his arms around his friend anyway.

“Everything’s fine, Midoriya.”

He shook his head against Shouto’s chest.

“Not yet…” His voice cracked a bit, small and fragile. “But we’ll make sure it’s all fine soon. I promise!”

There was a sigh, and Shouto’s eyes moved up to look at Aizawa. His teacher looked a bit worse for wear, but relieved nonetheless.

“Glad to see everything’s okay, Shouto.” He smiled softly, much different from his sharp and cruel smile in the classroom. “We’re going to send you to Fukuoka with Hawks to get you away from Endeavor for the time being. We’ll figure things out from there.”

Shouto wanted to be saved, he did. But something about their plan, as half thought-out as it was, just wasn’t right. He would be running from Endeavor like this. He wanted to be saved, but he didn’t want to be living in fear of Endeavor any longer.

Maybe… maybe they could save him by simply standing beside him, to give him strength as he took agency and conquered his past forever.

“We should send him quietly.” Fuyumi suggested, looking nervously around as if Endeavor would bust in at any moment.

Fear.

“Yes,” Hawks nodded. “Perhaps I could fly him there?”

Of Endeavor.

“Isn’t that too risky?” Aizawa muttered, crossing his arms and frowning. “He could be spotted that way, and then it would all be over.”

All of them are afraid.

Midoriya clung to him tighter as they continued to lay on the floor, his arms shaking in fear.

Everyone is drenched in fear.

“How about by car?”

Fear of fighting alone, running from this monster without aid.

“That could work. Hawks, I’ll drive to your place and you can watch from the sky, in case we’re being followed.”

Everyone needs to be saved from this fear, by leaning on one another.

“No.”

All eyes snapped to him, Midoriya pulling himself and Shouto up with a confused and concerned look on his face.

“Shouto, what do you mean-”

“We can’t just run forever.” He muttered quietly, frowning. “I’ll have to face him eventually. But I… I can’t do it alone.”

“Shouto…” Fuyumi looks like she might cry, and Midoriya’s already there. None of them look certain.

“I think,” and suddenly all eyes have snapped to Midoriya-san, her eyes soft and her smile warm. “Shouto is right. You don’t defeat villains by running from them and hoping they disappear. You can’t have peace if you’re waiting for the ball to drop and for him to find you one day.”

She walked over carefully, taking Midoriya and Shouto by the arms gently and lifting them both up.

“As long as you all rely on each other, no one will cave.” She smiled, a bit wryly. “Plus Ultra, right?”

Suddenly, Hawks burst into laughter, and it felt like everything might be okay in the end.