Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In eight months he proved himself many things- number two at the sports festival, rebellious, dependable, reckless, strong, capable, remedial, a failure. He didn’t care what category he was put in, not really. He knew most of the girls put him in the ‘pretty boy’ category for reasons completely beyond his comprehension, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was something. Whether or not he agreed with it, whether or not he even found it a meaningful way to describe him (because what did being pretty have to do with being a hero he didn’t know), at least it was something he was on his own. And eight months after school starts, he’s reminded again of everything he tries so hard not to be.

It's mid-December, he and Bakugo have already finished their remedial classes and now everyone is getting ready for exams and winter holidays. Most of the class is talking about their plans, all excited to spend time at home for the break, to see their families again. While Mineta was not his, or to his knowledge anyone else’s, favorite person, even Shouto couldn’t fault the boy for what came out of his mouth.

“I bet it must be nice for you, huh Todoroki?”

Mismatched eyes abandoned the window, his gaze previously on the dark clouds in the sky waiting for the snow to start, instead giving his classmates his attention, finally, realizing how much conversation he missed. “What?” he asked, head tilted slightly as the rest of the class began to watch him in anticipation. It was a lot of attention he neither enjoyed nor was used to.

“Going home for break,” Mineta sighed as though it were obvious what he was talking about. Shouto supposed it was, had he been paying attention. “I bet it’s a lot nicer than living in the dorms.”

“I like the dorms,” he responded, stoic expression plastered to his face as always.

“We all like the dorms,” Uraraka assured him with a bright smile, “but it will be so nice going back to our families, won’t it? I can’t wait to see my parents again!”

“And you’re Endeavor’s son,” Mineta added, “so it must be nice for you.”

Eight months of creating a name for himself, and here he was, reminded once again that he would always be ‘Endeavor’s son’ first and foremost. Shouto let a hand fall under his desk, gripping his knee tight enough his knuckles turned white, grounding himself with bruising fingers so that his expression remained as cool as ever. Nobody knew, nobody should know, and he wouldn’t allow himself to falter.

“I suppose,” he agreed, giving enough of a response to satisfy his classmates so that they turned their attention to each other again. Shouto allowed his gaze to return to the window, but his mind was far away from the snow now.

He wasn’t the only child of a hero in their class- Iida, as well, held that title. While his family was never as high ranking as Shouto’s father, they were still well established in their lineage as heroes, enough that the name was recognizable by their classmates. Especially when Iida did everything he could to attach himself to his family name.

Maybe his classmates assumed he was like their class representative (who held that title first and foremost before the title of being a hero’s son); maybe they assumed Shouto wanted everything to do with his father, despite the months of attempting to detach himself from the Endeavor name. For years before UA he refused to use his fire in combat, even against the man who gave it to him. While that changed after the sports festival, he tendencies still leaned toward his right side, enough that he felt his presence as a hero-to-be was objectively different than Endeavor’s. Perhaps he could ask Midoriya for better insight on the matter; the boy was obsessed with this kind of thing.

Aizawa entered the class shortly after his contribution to the conversation, snapping Shouto’s thoughts from his father, thankfully sparing the boy’s sanity for now. The perpetually exhausted man begins his lecture to the class on the procedure for their final exams for the semester, both written and practical. While the written exams are as straightforward as they were before, the shocking part was that the practical exam was explained upfront.

A combination exam with Class B- a mock rescue. Teams of four, two from each class, would take turns rescuing each other. While both sides were allowed to use their quirks, they were going to be judged more on their willingness to work with others and be efficient and safe with their quirks in given scenarios.

“There will be times, as heroes, that your quirk isn’t fit to a situation. It’s important to know how to work with other heroes you don’t know as well, even if that means not being the hero in the situation,” their teacher explained. He continued on, but he focused more on grading criteria for various parts of all their exams, and what would happen to those who failed. Shouto allowed his mind to wander briefly during this part.

He couldn’t help but feel like he and Bakugo were the targets of this semester’s practical exam. No one else in their year failed the provisional licensing exam except those two, and teamwork was definitely the reason for it. While they improved greatly in their remedial courses, Shouto still felt like everyone else thought it wasn’t enough. When he wasn’t Endeavor’s son he would always be ‘rebellious, reckless, remedial, failure, unsightly’.

Unsightly.

There was a thought he didn’t allow himself in a while; even his nightmares gave him a reprieve from that specific scenario. His fingers subconsciously grazed the edges of his scar, the permanent reminder he was given of how he, Todoroki Shouto, would always be Endeavor’s unsightly masterpiece (because, behind closed doors, he couldn’t think of a time his father ever called him ‘son’).

“Todoroki?”

Shouto broke out of his daze to meet with bright green eyes staring directly into his blue and grey ones. He blinked slowly, wondering what his friend was doing, standing in front of him, while Aizawa was lecturing about the exams.

Except, when glancing around, he noticed that Aizawa was no longer lecturing about the exams- or anything, for that matter. In the few minutes he allowed his mind to wander, he realized he went through four classes, and Midoriya was now waiting for him to pack up so they could go to the lunchroom together. Uraraka, Iida, and Asui were standing by the door, looking back at him expectantly as well, while the rest of the class was already gone.

“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled out quickly, shoving everything into his bag haphazardly as he stood up to join the others.

“Are you alright, Todoroki?” Midoriya asked him as the group headed out of the classroom. “You seemed a little out of it.”

“Are you getting enough sleep?” Iida interjected, his hand starting its classic chopping motions when the lecture began. “It’s important as hero students to get at least eight hours of sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Shouto reassured him as he realized he couldn’t recall the last time he had a real night of sleep.

While he would doze off in the common room during movie nights and other communal gatherings he was dragged to, sleeping in his room at night wasn’t something that happened very often, his mind acutely attuned to every noise those around him made. Just as he would begin to drift off, a quiet tapping of feet in the halls or rooms near him would have him jolting up, waiting for the inevitable rage that followed from Endeavor. Whatever made the man angry enough to visit Shouto so late at night would only be exacerbated if he had to forcefully wake his son up. A true hero would never let his guard down like that, even in his own room, or so Endeavor would tell him.

When he did manage to sleep, his mind finally accepting there was no hellfire hero around to torment him while at the dorms, Shouto was usually rewarded with nightmares. Thankfully, he had the foresight (experience) to make sure his bedding was all fireproof, although there were a few mornings when Sero or Sato or Bakugo would complain about the AC being too strong the previous night. These nights were either few enough that nobody connected the dots, or the others were too forgiving and chose not to implicate Shouto for this.

The others let their conversation drift back to their upcoming vacations again, even Iida placing aside concern for the impending exams in favor of discussing their family holiday traditions. Shouto half-listened, keeping just enough focus to know if he needed to chime in (he never did) as he grabbed his typical lunch.

“We should all go to the mall together!” Uraraka declared as they all settled into their usual table. “I’m going to miss you guys too much if we don’t do something over the break.”

“I’m super busy before Christmas, kero,” Asui explains, “but I don’t have anything going on afterward.”

“It’s important for me to spend time with my family, but I should also be free afterward,” Iida adds. “Perhaps we should invite the whole class to catch up after seeing our families?”

The others delve into a loud chorus of agreement with Iida, and Shouto finds himself lucky that they haven’t turned their attention to him yet. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go- the opposite really. Nothing seemed more exciting than spending time with his friends and away from his house during the break, but inevitably it depended on Endeavor’s training schedule. While the dorms were a blessing to Shouto, the limited time at his house training with the number one hero meant that Endeavor would want to make up for lost time in their two-week break. The man didn’t take much time off, but Shouto was prepared to suddenly find his father home more often than before.

“You’re coming too, right, Todoroki?” Midoriya looked at him with large, hopeful eyes, and Shouto fought himself inwardly.

He didn’t want to disappoint his best friend but telling them it depended on his training schedule seemed unfit for the conversation. He wished he was more like his friends or his siblings, they always knew what to say. Even his other classmates always knew what to say in their own way- whether Mineta being perverted, Bakugo yelling, or Tokoyami spouting poetic words he didn’t fully understand, at least their point was made.

“I…” he muttered uselessly, until Asui saved him.

“Unless you’re busy with family stuff, kero,” she offers kindly. “I’m sure it’s hard when your dad is the number one hero.”

“I’ll find out,” Shouto nods, trying to be thankful for the excuse, rather than uncomfortable that he was again being referred to by his father.

He was spared from further inquisition through the rest of lunch as the others began making more plans. It seemed like they would go to the mall the day after Christmas, and Shouto found himself longing to be there.

It was strange going from isolation from everyone except his father to suddenly having friends. His siblings, Fuyumi and Natsuo at least, both had many friends growing up, even if they never came by the house (the only ones who visited were his tutors and other heroes his father would have him train with). Counting family, he supposed his first friend was his mother and his second friend was Midoriya. He wondered if his siblings considered him a friend- probably not, they barely talked unless Fuyumi was inviting them over for dinner. She wanted their family to be ‘normal’, but that hope was shattered the day Shouto was born.

He didn’t have a chance to allow his thoughts drag him further, which was good because he couldn’t afford for his friends to worry about him spacing out again. He stood up and followed them out of the lunchroom. He glanced at his phone as he made his way to the classroom and saw a text from the last person he wanted to hear from.

Old Man

[Shouto, I am calling tonight. I expect you to answer.]

The nervous pit in his stomach grew. Normally he would ignore his father’s calls, but so soon to a break… it wasn’t safe. He had to answer, but he knew nothing good could come of this.

Chapter Text

After classes for the day, Shouto ducked away from his friends in the common room before they invited him to yet another movie night. Even Iida’s normal protests of needing to study were absent, the distraction of missing their friends too strong. Tokoyami, Bakugo, Shoji, and Koda also found their way out of the ruckus, the remaining students more than enthusiastic enough for everyone.

Shouto placed his phone on his desk, but not before turning the alert sounds on; he couldn’t risk missing his father’s phone call. He would be home at the end of the week and his father didn’t have a memory that was that terrible. He briefly wondered if he would be able to see his mother for the break. Remedial classes had taken up much of his time and then he immediately had to study for exams; it was longer than he liked since he last saw her, despite writing letters to her frequently. Spending his Christmas in the hospital was a much nicer thought than being with Endeavor. Maybe if he proved himself in training…

He shook off the thought, bits of his red and white fringe catching on his long eyelashes. He blinked them away, trying to avoid touching his scar more than necessary after the words he was haunted by earlier in class. He would only allow his mother to be associated with happy memories if he could help it. It wasn’t her fault he was born…

Unsightly.

…A failure, he corrects himself.

He had too much to make up for in training before he would ever be allowed to be given a break, Shouto knew. If he could prove himself in the exams he wouldn’t be spared his father’s training, that was impossible, but he could at least hope for a small respite.

Natsuo and Fuyumi were planning to see their mother often during the break, since they also had time off from their work and studies. The four of them hadn’t been in a room together since shortly after Shouto’s birth (tore their family apart he thought, reluctantly) and that would certainly cheer up their mother. She deserved to be happy.

To be spared from the flames.

Pulling out a book, Shouto settled into his desk to begin studying. Coasting by the first semester and a half allowed him to sit comfortably in the top five of the class in regard to academics. He never broke the top three, but that was okay, satisfactory, more than he could hope for. He was competing against Iida and Yaoyorozu who were naturally incredibly smart, and Bakugo and Midoriya, who were more dedicated to studying and acing tests than anyone else in their class. To put in almost no effort academically and still score so high was an accomplishment in Shouto’s eyes.

The emphasis on Shouto’s eyes. Endeavor would have different feelings. Shouto was born- bred- to be number one and that would be the only acceptable role for him in the pro hero’s eyes.

It was ironic that his father was the one to interrupt his studying hours later, since Shouto was doing it for him, technically. He let his phone ring twice before answering it, bracing himself to maintain a cool composure throughout. Satou and Sero were likely not in their rooms yet, as it was only 7:30pm, but it wasn’t worth anyone hearing him if he got too loud.

“Old man.” It was as much of a greeting as Shouto ever gave his father, devoid of any emotion. There was no love, no familiarity, and even the resentment he felt was hidden under his cold greeting. He can’t remember ever calling his father anything familial, and at this point assumed it was more dangerous than his practiced answer.

“Shouto,” his father was loud in the phone without yelling. Shouto was already prepared with the phone pulled away from his ear. “You’ve been an incredible disappointment since you’ve been to the dorms.”

At least he cut to the chase, Shouto supposes. Maybe the conversation can at least be short.

“You’ve failed your licensing exam-”

“I have my license now,” Shouto insists, before he can stop himself from interrupting his father. Never a good idea.

“Yes, now, after you had to prove you’re not the worthless failure you acted like during the exam. You shouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place, should you, Shouto?” There’s a tense moment of silence between the two before Endeavor speaks again. “I expect you to answer me, Shouto; you need to learn to show more respect, I’m tired of your childish rebellion. Do you think it was fun for me to watch you tarnish the Todoroki name? Do you think I like explaining to others why my greatest creation can’t even do a simple task right?”

Staying in the dorms for the last semester gave Shouto a sense of confidence against his father that he never held before, but hearing those words, knowing he would see the man in a few short days, he felt like he was five all over again, vomiting in the training room because of his weakness. “No,” he finally answered in a quiet voice, only enough that Endeavor on the other end of the line could hear. He felt more ashamed of his quiet, fearful voice than he felt about any previous failures his father brought up. The least he could do was act like he wasn’t a child anymore.

“These exams are crucial, Shouto,” Endeavor continues, not even acknowledging he heard the other speak. “I want you to prove to me, to the rest of your class, that you deserve the number one spot. You were created for this, Shouto, and I expect you to act like it.”

His reply is bitter and despite the cold tone he takes, Shouto knows Endeavor can tell he wants to defend his classmates- his friends. “The others are-”

“The others are not worth your time,” Endeavor spits back. “They’re bringing you down if that isn’t obvious enough by the licensing exam. I will be training you when you return home from school.”

He can’t help his next response; it comes out before he can control himself, heavy with sarcasm. “Of course, I would only be so lucky.”

“I’m not here for your sass, boy. You will never be a good enough hero unless you start to listen to me. You are my masterpiece, my final creation. I kept you away from anything that would threaten your ability to be number one, and you’ve shown no appreciation for my efforts.”

“Do you mean my mother?” He was in for it now, but the words his father spoke made him to angry to reason with himself.

“That woman would have ruined you. She already coddled you too much. I know you’ve been seeing her since the sports festival- I kept quiet hoping it would help quell this childish behavior you’ve been showing. But if you can’t show me any improvement-”

This was what Shouto had been expecting all along. An ultimatum. And while it was a threat, he did get what he wanted- permission to see his mother over the break. All he had to do was prove himself to his father. An impossible feat, honestly, but if he came close enough then he would get what he wanted. This was the game the two played for all of Shouto’s life. “I have improved,” he told his father after taking a breath to control his emotions. “I’m stronger now.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Endeavor scoffed. “Don’t disappoint me.”

There was no room for goodbyes as Endeavor hung up right after that. Usually Shouto would be the one to hang up first, but the threat was made and all he could do was follow through. He needed to be stronger, he needed to prove himself, after months of being-

Useless, weak, failure, remedial, disappointment, embarrassment, childish, ruined.

The words raced around his thoughts quickly, and he barely had time to comprehend one before the next would float through. He was merely his fathers creation- all of his siblings were. He was just the unfortunate one to have come out the masterpiece, even if he couldn’t do that. He wished he was like his siblings, but maybe he was selfish. He was the only one given any attention from his father after he was born, Touya cast aside and abandoned where Fuyumi and Natsuo already were tossed away. His father put all of his focus and attention to Shouto.

And here he was, wishing to be just another failed creation, rather than a ruined masterpiece, rather than the unsightly creature he was.

Unsightly.

Unsightly.

Unsightly.

The word mocked him over and over, playing through his mind so that every other word was gone. It wasn’t enough that he ruined his siblings relationship with their father, he ruined Touya’s chance to be a hero by taking it away from him with his birth, but he had to drive their mother away. What sort of hero destroys his own family?

Vaguely, in the distance, he hears a sound that sends ice through his blood- and with his quirk he thinks it might be possible that’s what happened. He can’t see it, but he feels the small bits of frost collect on his right side, and even his left side is cooled to that of a normal person. He shivers, pulling away from his desk to grab a hoodie to warm himself up. He wonders if he has any jackets here, or if he left them all back at the dorms of UA. Or at home? Looking around his simply decorated room, he can’t remember which room it is. He thinks he must be at home if he feels this much fear.

The sound picks up, a high-pitched whistle that he finally recognizes as a tea kettle. Home, he tells himself; he’s home because that’s the only place he would hear that noise. His mother his in the kitchen. He can’t go there; he would scare her. He can’t get hurt again.

His fingers feel their way to his scar. Mother is not home, mother is gone. It’s his fault, for being unsightly. He realizes he’s still freezing, and pulls himself to standing, heading toward his closet. He takes a step before the nausea bubbles in his stomach, causing him to fall back down to his hands and knees, head hanging forward as he tries to fight the dizziness.

He can’t tell if he’s moving or if the room is spinning around him. Someone- maybe it’s Sero or Satou, but he isn’t sure why they’re at his house- shouts to see if he’s okay, telling him it’s too cold. But he can’t seem to turn off his quirk, and he feels that his fire is long gone from him. If he does he’ll lose control and father will be disappointed.

He tries once more to stand, this time falling so that he’s laying on his side against the tatami mats. The nausea grows and he looks around in a panic to try to find somewhere safe he can vomit. His father would punish him for such a pathetic display. He forces himself to sit, leaning against the wall for support.

Footsteps echo in the distance, and the sound of the tea kettle gets louder and closer. He covers his scar with his hand, nails digging into the skin along the edges. Warm liquid trickles down the left side of his face, and he realizes that she’s there, holding his head back and pouring the water against his father’s side. She’s trying to fix me, he repeats in his mind over and over. I scare her and she wants to fix me.

Bitter acid bites the back of his throat, and before he notices it, his stomach is forcing everything in it out of his throat. He can’t fight it, as much as he tries, while feeling the water pour over his skin. Vomit pools underneath him on the floor, and he feels it dripping heavy in his hair. The smell hits him next, forcing another round to make its way out.

The liquid from the tea kettle falls off his face, and drips onto his hands, and he notices the deep crimson color. Before he has time to question it, he hears a banging at his door.

No, he begs in his head. Not father.

Chapter Text

After a moment of banging and yelling, Shouto hears his door open. He tries to turn his body to hide the vomit, knowing his father would be angry if he saw it. There was no time for Shouto to be so pathetic. The yellowish bile dripping off of his bangs was incriminating enough and having his mother standing over him with the tea kettle again would only send his father into another rage. He was too old to be coddled by his mother in that way- if he needed fixing it was on him to do it himself.

His back is to the door and head hung low, eyes piercing into the floor, when his father speaks. “What the fuck, Icyhot?”

His father’s voice sounded softer than he was used to- not soft by any means, and definitely annoyed, but still less of the aggressive anger Shouto was used to. And since when did his father call him Icyhot?

Oh, he realized. It was Bakugo. Why was Bakugo in his house? He couldn’t remember the other ever willingly spending more time with him. According to Bakugo they weren’t even friends, though Shouto felt that that was just another one of the things that Bakugo said but didn’t mean (he was still learning about that from his new friends, and he wished people were more direct). Still, Shouto never invited anyone over, couldn’t let anyone know (couldn’t ruin the number one hero the world needed). Bakugo shouldn’t be here.

“Why are you here?” Shouto turns his head so that he’s staring at Bakugo out of his steely grey eye, still expertly hiding the evidence of what was going on in his room. The last thing he needed was for Bakugo to make his father aware of what was going on.

“Making so much damn noise,” Bakugo grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “You were slamming on the floor which happens to be my fucking ceiling, Icyhot. What the hell else was I supposed to do? Couldn’t fucking sleep and…”

Shouto let the sound of Bakugo’s rant trail off as he tried to reorient himself. Bakugo didn’t live in his house, did he? And even if he did, Shouto didn’t think his room was above another bedroom; he was next door to the training dojo, across his father’s bedroom and above… above…

Touya-nii.

His room was above Touya’s old room. His father was a ruthless bastard, but entering that room was forbidden in the house, and the last thing Endeavor would do was let Bakugo, of all people, move into Touya’s room. Especially since nobody else was supposed to know of the eldest Todoroki son. Endeavor spent lots of money and time with his PR staff to ensure that.

He glanced up to ask his mother for clarification, before realizing he’d been in the room alone. There was no tea kettle, his mother was safe (from him) in her hospital room, and he wasn’t home. Endeavor was nowhere nearby. He was at UA.

“Apologies, Bakugo,” Shouto spoke as he stood up, realizing there was no immediate threat. The vomit was incredibly embarrassing, but he could pass it off as what he ate for lunch. “I won’t-”

“What the fuck?” Bakugo screamed when he saw the left side of Shouto’s face. The heterochromatic boy quickly pushed his bangs aside; there wasn’t a significant amount of vomit anywhere but the floor, so he couldn’t figure what Bakugo was so upset about, until the blond answered him. “The hell are you bleeding for?”

“…Bleeding?” Shouto tilted his head to the side, looking over his body. He found a bit of dried blood on his hands but couldn’t find anywhere it came from.

“Your face, idiot,” Bakugo muttered harshly, but the words weren’t meant to be insulting. He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him to keep any noisy extras from intruding. “Get over here,” he demanded as he gestured to Shouto’s bathroom.

His feet move without thinking until he’s standing with Bakugo in the small bathroom. There’s barely room for the two of them- the intention of the bathrooms in their dorms was just for one of them to take care of their business; there was simply a toilet and a sink. Bakugo maneuvers Shouto so that he’s suddenly sitting on the toilet, while the grumpy blond is throwing the cabinet under the sink open, pulling out the first aid kit each student was required to keep there. Nobody questioned Aizawa’s demand with that one- class 1-A knew exactly who they were.

Bakugo’s grumbling became a white noise to Shouto as the older boy set to his task of cleaning the scarred face. The stinging of antiseptic across the edges of marred skin brought Shouto fully back to reality.

His father called. Endeavor. And somehow that sent him into a panic, and he felt his mother there, pouring boiling water over his face once more. Without even realizing it, Shouto was trying to remove the scar from his face.

Unsightly. Pathetic.

“Bakugou-”

“Shut the fuck up, half and half,” Bakugo presses a cloth to Shouto’s face, specifically avoiding his hair. “You need a damn shower, too. What the fuck happened?”

The younger remained silent for a moment until his eyes met Bakugo’s intense crimson ones. “Did you want an answer?” he asked through his confusion.

“No, I just like asking stupid questions without having them answered,” Bakugo rolled his eyes, voice heavy with sarcasm.

Sarcasm was not something Shouto understood well. “I see,” he nodded in what he thought was understanding. It didn’t make sense to ask questions he didn’t want an answer to, but Bakugo didn’t usually make since, so Shouto could accept this.

Bakugo groaned with his free hand pressed into his face. Getting into this situation was entirely his fault, he had to admit. The damn bastard was dense, and he played right into it. But he didn’t want to go around in circles with this conversation, either. “Did you get sick?” he asked instead as he finished stopping the bleeding. Thankfully there wasn’t much; the would was healed up before Bakugo even showed up, just superficial scratches at the edge of Shouto’s scar. Now Bakugo moved to taking a wet cloth and wiping the bile out of Shouto’s hair.

He wanted to protest, but he didn’t have energy to fight with Bakugo, instead allowing him to wipe off his sticky hair. “Is that another stupid question you don’t want answered?”

Bakugo bit his lip so he wouldn’t scream at the other, taking a moment before responding. It wasn’t the nicest response, but it was certainly the nicest response Bakugo could give at the moment. “Just answer the question.”

“I must have eaten something wrong for lunch,” Shouto relented, giving just enough to satisfy Bakugo with an answer and not inviting more questions. “I apologize for waking you up.”

“You didn’t wake me up.”

“Oh. But it’s already after 8, isn’t it?”

“I don’t go to bed that early, idiot,” Bakugo taps Shouto’s forehead. The gesture isn’t exactly affectionate, but isn’t done with resentment, either. Midoriya usually explains something like that as playful or teasing, Shouto is proud of himself for recognizing that.

Shouto stands when Bakugo moves away, grabbing another towel to clean his floor. “I think I will shower,” he says, as Bakugo follows him out of the bathroom.

“Good,” the blond growls, “don’t go to bed a damn mess.”

“Goodnight, Bakugo,” Shouto responds, deciding that the door being closed loudly- but specifically not slammed- is a testament to Bakugo’s growth and their friendship over the last few months. It’s more than most can expect from him.

It doesn’t take long for Shouto to clean up his mess, mostly because he pointedly tries to ignore what caused it in the first place. Endeavor, phone call, training, panic, pathetic, unsightly.

He shakes the words out of his head before they can bother him anymore. Maybe a shower would do him good, he decides.

After washing himself, taking care to clean the bile out of his hair, Shouto risks a glance in the mirror. Small scratches litter the expanse of his scar, but from a step back, they almost blend into the already reddened skin, even if he only looks with his right eye, giving him an image clear and crisp like he supposes anyone would normally see. His left eye doesn’t hold almost any shapes well, is merely a blur of colors like a bad abstract painting. It would be disorienting, he thinks, to try to train this way, if his father hadn’t forced him to since he received his injury.

He should be more thankful for the hero part of his mind tells him. If it weren’t for Endeavor he wouldn’t be as strong as he was. Despite how pathetic and weak he always is, he can at least compete with his classmates. Without Endeavor he would be…

Nothing.

He shakes off the thought and heads up to bed. Laying down he knows that sleep won’t be there for him, but he has to try. Tomorrow will be a long day of exams.

Chapter Text

Shouto didn’t move from his bed until he heard Sero’s alarm going off in the next room over. He hadn’t bothered to set his own- he hadn’t even looked at his phone since it fell to the floor after his call with Endeavor. It wasn’t uncommon for him to go a length of time without his phone, however; its only real use came from when he started befriending his classmates at UA.

Currently, his phone holds twenty-two contacts- his nineteen classmates, his father, and his two siblings. His mother did not have a phone, and Shouto didn’t have anyone else to message. He remembers, vaguely, that Aizawa gave them all his phone number in case of emergency, but that was at the beginning of the year and Shouto didn’t have his phone with him that day. Even now he barely responds to the group chat, since by time he can think of something to say, the rambunctious class has already moved on to another topic.

Groaning, he drags himself out of bed, nearly stepping on the phone in the process. He tapped it gently with his toes, debating whether it was worth it to check it. If Endeavor had more to say, which he often did, Shouto didn’t want to risk throwing himself into another episode like he had last night. If Endeavor became too disappointed with his… stability… it was likely that he would be sent to the same sort of place his mother was.

And he wasn’t crazy. So many things, so imperfect, but to be crazy didn’t fit. Endeavor took him to yearly doctor’s appointments as any good parent would (Shouto didn’t get sick to warrant any extra visits and most of his training injuries should be treatable at home by his age he was told). Shortly after he turned thirteen, his doctor recommended Shouto start Lexapro, and Endeavor barely controlled his rage at the doctor’s suggestion. That was the last time Shouto saw that doctor, who had been around since his eye injury.

“How dare you suggest the boy is crazy,” Endeavor growled, slamming his fist against the small table that held the doctor’s examination tools. “He wouldn’t have inherited such weak genes his mother has.”

“I’m not suggesting he’s crazy,” the doctor stuttered, backing away and putting the teenager in between him and Endeavor. “But with his trauma-”

“That boy doesn’t have trauma,” Endeavor persisted. “His mother is away and he’s safe now. Isn’t that right, Shouto?”

Mismatched eyes glanced between the two, but eventually he resigned himself as he always did in this situation. “Of course,” he responded with his lips pulled tight into an empty expression. “I’m not crazy, please don’t give me medicine.”

There was no room for another crazy person in the Todoroki family, each part cast so perfectly. They had their patriarch- a shining hero to all. The role of the crazy one played by their mother. The eldest son was cast as the deceased child, Fuyumi the peacemaker everyone loved, and Natsuo the troublemaker. Then there was Shouto, whose only purpose was to carry out his father’s legacy. There was no room for him to be anything else.

His lines were simple. “Yes, father.” “Thank you, father.” And, of course, “my only goal is to be number one, father. I am number one, father.” He just needed to get in character and stop ruining this for everyone.

A vibration from his phone broke him from his thoughts. Shouto lifted the device and glanced quickly at the screen. His battery was only 45%, but that would be more than enough to last for school, and the only message was the one his father sent.

Old Man

[I expect success, Shouto. Or I’ll need to rework your training schedule.]

A perfectly veiled threat if Shouto had ever seen one. Get better or I’ll make you, is what Endeavor likely wanted to say, but anyone not so intimately aware of the flame hero’s habits would assume it was just him trying to help his son. Because to them, Shouto is the one who wanted to be a hero since he was born, Endeavor was merely his guiding light. Endeavor could do no wrong; Shouto was the one who was acting like a failure.

Biting down any residual panic from the night before, Shouto made his way through his morning routine. Shower through constantly fluctuating temperatures (a subconscious habit from his training), make himself as presentable as possible (which was a feat in itself, he felt, with the heavy exhaustion and scar that marred almost half his face), and eat breakfast (pretending to be uninterested in the sugary American cereals his friends were sharing- soba was as far from his father’s diet plan as he could stray). Preparing for class went quickly and was uneventful- Bakugo giving no indication he remembered anything from the previous night. Shouto didn’t doubt he remembered but being spared from the conversation was a blessing.

Settling into his seat in class, Shouto spares a moment to glance around the room at his classmates. Most are gathered in small groups around their desks: Uraraka, Midoriya, Aoyama, Mineta, and Asui stand around Iida’s desk where the class rep sits dutifully; Bakugo is lounging at his desk with his group consisting of Ashido, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero; Jirou, Tokoyami, and Hagakure hover over Yaoyorozu; Satou and Ojiro are engaging with Shouji and even Kouda at the front of the room. Leave it to class 1-A to find a way never be alone.

Shouto turns toward Yaoyorozu’s group but can’t bring his mind to focus on anything that’s being said. Nobody tries to drag him into the conversation, thankfully, though he did notice Jirou and Tokoyami turned so that he was included in their circle and their backs weren’t to him.

When Aizawa enters, the class does not immediately settle into their seats, though Iida’s group shifts away from the class rep as Iida attempts to get the rest of class to fall in line. For his part, their homeroom teacher simply watches with tired eyes, his sleep deprivation evident as he allows someone else to get the energetic class in line.

After the entire class manages to find their way to their own desks (a feat, despite the fact they had those seats for almost two semesters now), Aizawa is met with instant regret when he mentions the exam schedule for that day. The class explodes half into a chorus of moans and complaints and half into demands for the others to ‘focus on being dedicated students’ (Iida) or ‘shut the fuck up and deal with it’ (Bakugo).

The noise faded out in Shouto’s mind, so much so that when he finally snapped back to attention he was already halfway through an exam. He didn’t remember the class ever settling down or being given a test (…Modern Literature, he realizes, his worst subject). He also couldn’t remember the exam schedule that Aizawa told them, resigning himself to having to accept the answers he’s already written on the test, having no idea if he had time to revisit them.

When he finishes this exam- once again barely noting the words he’s written down- a stolen glance at the clock tells him that lunch is only ten minutes away. He takes the little time he has to briefly review his answers and is lucky they seem to be as close to accurate as he could tell (this being his worst subject). Literature was full of too many metaphors, and frankly Shouto hated when people said things they didn’t mean. His father did that a lot, and he was sure it was sometimes just to confuse him.

The metaphors aren’t that bad, none of them are exactly lying, but he still doesn’t understand why you would borrow someone’s cat, or how a person could even be a cat unless it was a quirk. He remembers being given a particularly low score on his essay a few weeks ago. The story wasn’t even about a cat, other than the time they mentioned the main character was a ‘borrowed cat’, but Shouto spent most of the essay trying to argue that it didn’t make sense. He had to rewrite his essay, thankfully with the help of Midoriya the second time, to avoid admitting to his father that he failed an assignment. Failure wasn’t allowed for a Todoroki, even in a subject as conflicting as modern literature. He would have appreciated more cats in his stories, but Midoriya convinced him to drop that point before submitting his essay (he could just assume Cementoss wasn’t a fan of cats, which Shouto thought was a shame).

And without a chance to finish his thoughts on cats or metaphors (his brain was so jumbled he couldn’t even tell which train of thought he was following), his head snapped up in attention when he realized Aizawa was at the head of the class again, gathering everyone’s attention with more ease this time. His test paper was already gone, a thankful memory telling him that he did complete at least this exam.

(What other exams did he have that day? Why couldn’t he remember them? Did he answer everything correctly? Did he even answer anything?)

“After lunch we’ll be focusing your training on getting ready for the practical exam,” Aizawa explained, and Shouto forced himself to pay attention. “Tomorrow the whole day will be spent on the remaining written exams, and then Thursday we will dedicate the day to the practical.”

“What about Friday and Saturday, sir?” Iida asks loudly, hand shooting straight up.

Aizawa smirks lightly underneath his capture scarf, and Shouto can tell that he was anticipating this question. The others in class may say Aizawa was hard to read, but he felt the man was straightforward enough, minus the ‘logical ruses’.

“We’re giving you all the rest of the week to go see your families,” he announced after a moment of anticipation, to which the majority of the class cheered brightly. Shouto imagined he was the only one disappointed by the news. “I expect you all to focus on your exams until then. Now, for the practical, here are the teams.”

Behind him, Aizawa gestured to the writing that appeared on the board, listing the teams and their orders. Shouto found himself going first, with Bakugo, which once again led him to the thought that they were the target of this semester’s exam.

And when he saw their class B pairing, he almost choked. Komori, a student he knew almost nothing about, wasn’t the concern but instead it was the fourth student listed in their group- Monoma.

A glance at Bakugo confirmed his fears; while Shouto personally had no ill will toward anybody in class 1-B, the same couldn’t be said about Bakugo and Monoma, that latter of whom was certain to antagonize the former and lead them to a situation eerily similar to the one he experienced with Yoarashi at the licensing exam.

He was certain now that Aizawa and the other instructors were targeting him and Bakugo. He joined his friends as they headed toward lunch, trying to bite down the shame he felt. He was only ever going to be remedial, and if he couldn’t pass UA’s test for him, then any hope of escaping his training to see his mother was gone.

Even sitting down to lunch with his friends and his trusted bowl of cold soba did nothing to settle his woes.

“…and I’m not sure of specifically how their quirks work, but maybe if we can talk before the exam…” Shouto listened briefly to Midoriya’s rambling, wishing that all he had to worry about was the quirks of his classmates. He remembered Komori could grow mushrooms, which wasn’t entirely useful in rescue, but he was sure that she could handle herself. Monoma had access to his quirk, Bakugo’s quirk, and Komori’s quirk, but once again only if he played nicely.

As he thought that, Shouto noticed the man in question headed toward his table. Bakugo and his group sat several tables away, thankfully, meaning that at least he wouldn’t get into an explosive argument with the boy.

“Looks like I’m paired with the remedial team from 1-A,” Monoma announced dramatically as he approached their lunch table.

“It is unbecoming of a hero to resort to insulting a fellow student,” Iida begins his lecture, to which Monoma simply rolls his eyes and leans across the table, getting uncomfortably close to Shouto’s space.

“All I’m asking,” he continues, tossing out his hand in dramatic flair, “is that you don’t hold me back. I expect success, Todoroki, that’s all.”

Monoma didn’t leave anyone time to respond as he straightened up and headed toward the line to get food. His friends were likely saying something about his behavior, but Shouto couldn’t hear. Instead, he kept his fist clenched tightly under the table, his soba all but forgotten.

I expect success.

That’s all anyone wanted. Get up. Don’t fail. I expect success.

He couldn’t be remedial anymore, not if he was going to be a hero. Not if he still wanted to be her hero.

Chapter Text

Training for the practical was uneventful. Class 1-B trained separately from 1-A, spending today on written exams and tomorrow after lunch would be their physical training. Aizawa explained it had something to do with preventing too much planning and how they couldn’t train to work with everyone’s quirk in the field ahead of time. Shouto wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but it was the decision of the school, so he didn’t argue.

Shouto spent the last few months since the sports festival training his left side after neglecting it in battle for years. Despite his refusal to use it against even Endeavor, the man still spent so much of Shouto’s childhood explaining and demonstrating the quirk for him that making up for the deficit was easier than he thought. He may not have the power that Endeavor had with his fire, but he was getting there.

So for the last couple of weeks since he got his license, Shouto was more focused on trying to use both of his sides at the same time. His father would tell him since his mother was sent away that he should have figured it out by now. At first it was ‘that damned woman’s fault’, but within a year it was all Shouto’s fault. It was always his fault, once his mother was gone. He was never going to be good enough for Endeavor.

Even if he was number one, even if he surpassed Endeavor himself, Shouto could never beat All Might since the symbol of peace retired. What was his point now? Did his father even need him anymore? (He didn’t dare question if his father wanted him, that was never the case.) He wanted to be a hero, he wanted to be a great hero, and his father still wanted him to be number one, but his entire purpose for being alive was now gone.

He shook off the thought. He didn’t blame All Might for retiring, nor did he ever blame All Might for everything that happened in the first place. This was his burden alone. He carried it before to protect his family, and now he would carry it to protect society’s trust in their number one- and their trust in heroes in general. He knew the risks too well.

Instead of thinking of quitting, Shouto kept pushing through, nearly passing out by the end of the afternoon from quirk exhaustion. Or frostbite, or maybe even heat stroke. He wasn’t really sure what was causing his lightheadedness; all he knew was that he failed to combine his quirks, still forced to take the time to switch between the two. He was useless, he was a failure, and he didn’t get the luxury of feeling unwell, not if he couldn’t succeed at something he should have mastered when he was six.

Pathetic, he told himself as he forced his way to the showers.

Everyone else here seemed to understand and master their quirk well before they came into UA- with the exception of Midoriya, who broke his arms constantly during their first semester. But even now Midoriya was far and beyond anywhere Shouto could hope to be. They all were. It was obvious: they all passed the licensing exam except him; never once could he be on the top with his test scores; the others all grew and improved since the start of the year while he still couldn’t use his quirk right; and he was certain he was the only one who had accidents with his quirk in his sleep.

 That last one always made Endeavor angry. It was disgusting, Shouto losing control of himself like a child. Endeavor always told him that he should have grown out of this phase within the first year after he got his quirk (sooner, even, if he considered that Endeavor trained him for his quirk before it even came in). After being around others more, Shouto learned that quirk accidents were common through early years of elementary school, but even still they were rare once someone hit the age of ten, and usually only with good reason, like traumatic events.

Shouto knew he didn’t have a good reason.

Sure some would call their first year at UA hard, but none of the others lost control of their quirk, and Endeavor trained Shouto so he would never respond so embarrassingly to traumatic events. It’s why when they were attacked at the USJ so early in their careers, Shouto could handle the situation on his own. It was only at sleep, trapped in the confines of his own nightmares, did Shouto lose control.

As he reached his locker, Shouto spared a quick glance at his phone glaring at the screen when he saw Endeavor sent him a new message. A normal person wouldn’t feel so anxious, so fearful, about a text from their parent or a text from the number one hero. Who could be scared of a man who saved so many lives? And any sane person wouldn’t go to read a text that incited such fear when they were barely holding on to consciousness.

Shouto, as it turns out, was neither normal nor sane.

Old Man

[I’m tired of you falling behind, Shouto. Your rivals in class already started their internships. I will train you so that you can start working with me once school starts again. You will meet my expectations and stop being an embarrassment to the Todoroki name.]

He closes the messages and shoves his phone deep into his locker, his left fist clenched tightly to avoid showing any slip of emotions. He vaguely hears his classmates around him, all talking excitedly about the advancements they made in training or what they’re going to do for break. Things Shouto will never understand. And that loneliness, that anger toward Endeavor, makes his blood boil.

Almost literally he realizes too late. He doesn’t ignite, thankfully he has that much control of his quirk, but his subconscious body temperature is rising. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue, but with the overuse of his quirk in training, he starts to feel it. His limbs tremble, and the world starts to shift around him. He holds onto his locker as the only thing to keep him steady.

“Hey, Todoroki what are you going to- Todoroki are you okay?” Midoriya stops mid-conversation and rushes over to him. Shouto barely registers the boy’s hands on his arm before his vision goes black and his body drops weightlessly.

~*~

“I’ve tried being nice to you, Shouto, but clearly you don’t learn well when being babied.” Endeavor stood tall above the boy laying on the ground, coughing out bits of bile from the back of his throat. The pro hero sneered in disgust. Shouto’s body was covered in bruises and some burns. Endeavor had been trying, trying, trying to make him use his fire again, just like he was always trying for the last ten years since his mother was sent away. Shouto still refused, even when Endeavor promised to stop hurting him; the man never realized that his own fire hurt more. “You used it against that All Might wannabe yesterday, Shouto. You could have defeated that angry kid and taken first place, but instead you wanted to embarrass me. You just had to show the world that you refuse to be good enough. I’ve given you everything, Shouto. You’re my creation, my masterpiece, the legacy to the Todoroki name; and yet all you do is waste away your potential and force yourself to be weak and pathetic.”

The sports festival had been… awkward for Shouto, to say the least. Being bullied by kind words so that he used his fire side and then hiding it later. Taking second place would have been an honor to most, and Shouto was proud, but to Endeavor, second place was just another way his masterpiece was rebelling against his destiny- laughing at the pro hero for always being second place.

“You’re nothing without me, Shouto. Your only purpose is to surpass All Might. Do you even want to be a hero?”

Shouto pushed himself up on weak arms, willing his body to hold his weight as he ignored the blood dripping from his face. His nose was bleeding, he realized, probably from the way he was using his quirk or the earlier punch from Endeavor. It was annoyingly common for him. “I want… to be a hero,” he muttered, all of his strength and willpower spent.

“Then get up. A villain would have killed you by now.” Despite his demands for Shouto to stand, Endeavor shoves the toe of his boot into the younger boy’s side, aggravating what he hoped was only a bruised rib, and sending him back to the floor. “You’re lucky I’m not a villain, Shouto.” He turned and walked out, but at the door of the training room, he called back, “get yourself together. We’ll resume in an hour.”

Left alone Shouto allowed himself to slip into the comforts of unconsciousness, forgetting, for a moment, what a pathetic waste he was.

~*~

When he opened his eyes, Shouto was greeted with bright lights and white ceilings. A thin blanket was laid over him, doing almost nothing to keep away the cool air. But it felt nice, to feel the gentleness of the cold over him, rather than his father’s fire. His hand twitched and he became aware of the IV placed in it, looking over to see a bag connected to him that boldly declared its contents as saline. Ah, he figured, I overheated. He wondered, for a moment, if it was his fire or Endeavor’s that put him here.

Where was here?

“You’re awake.” The perpetually exhausted voice told Shouto that ‘here’ was just the UA infirmary, and that it was, in fact, his own fire that put him there. He remembered, now, pushing himself in training, feeling lightheaded, and then the text from his father.

That must have been what prompted the dream, he decided.

“Want to tell me what happened?” Aizawa asked, raising an eyebrow to prompt the heterochromatic boy into answering.

“I…” Shouto glanced around, hoping for salvation only to see nobody else was around. He didn’t know how to answer Aizawa’s question, not really. He was weak, and certainly Aizawa was going to punish him for that, but that much was just obvious. What else would he want him to say?

“Give the boy a minute, Shouta,” the gentle voice of Recovery Girl floated over as the woman hobbled into the room. “Are you feeling any better, Todoroki?”

Shouto shifted his focus to her. “I feel fine,” he answered, and surprised himself with how honest that was. The cool air, the fluids, and the rest did everything to combat what was most likely heat stroke. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember what happened, exactly. How did I get here?”

Burying his face into his scarf barely muffled the sigh that came from Aizawa. “You passed out in the locker room after overusing your quirk,” he grumbled, and Shouto could vaguely hear him say something about how he should have been paying more attention to his students.

Why did Aizawa feel guilty for his weakness? It was Shouto’s fault.

Before he could open his mouth to say as much, Recovery Girl already took over. “It’s no use guilting yourself over what happened. Todoroki, you’re going to be fine now that you’ve had some rest and fluids. I think you will be fine to take your practical exam on Thursday, but I don’t want you to use your quirk again until them. Give your body time to adjust, okay?”

Shouto nodded; even if he wasn’t already willing to do so, the look Aizawa gave him crushed any lingering thoughts of training further. He would just have to use his time focusing on his academic studies, then.

“Good,” the woman tapped her cane against the floor as she finished her assessment. “You’re free to go back to the dorms whenever you’re ready. Your classmates are worried about you, I’m sure. You gave us all a scare.” She placed a couple of pieces of candy in his hand before making her way out.

Shouto stared at the bright colored confections. He was curious, wanted to try these since he never had a chance to eat something so… fun before. But the nausea rolling in his stomach made him decide against it. Aizawa seemed to notice his conflict and took pity on him, taking the candies out of Shouto’s hand.

“Go back to the dorms now, kid,” he said, popping a blue bear into his mouth. “And, for the love of god, please don’t any more of you problem children get into trouble tonight.”

That, at least, was something Shouto managed to do. After reassuring his classmates he was fine, he retreated to his room to study. The looming exams tomorrow kept everyone from bothering him, as they all felt the need to prepare, as well. And for once, they managed to go a whole night without bothering Aizawa.

Chapter Text

The rest of the written exams went by without incident, and thankfully Shouto was present for those. He also figured that while he wasn’t present for the previous day’s exams, he must have still managed to complete them, considering nobody said anything to him about them yet. He didn’t know how he scored, but he knew he at least didn’t cause alarm for Aizawa.

Now, on the final morning before their vacation, Shouto is sitting back in his seat of the class, desperately hoping that nobody pays him any mind. He already had his altercation with Bakugo that morning- if you could even call it that. The blond, uncharacteristically quiet in his grumpiness, told Shouto he ‘better not fucking overdo it like last time’. Shouto simply ignored him, continuing his conversation with Midoriya about the green-haired boy’s family plans for the break (he wondered if Midoriya was purposefully avoiding asking him about his own). Bakugo, rather than argue more, simply grumbled about Shouto needing to ‘pay more attention to his actual competition’ and stomped off. Shouto didn’t even bother explaining how they weren’t competing for this semester’s practical- Bakugo would figure it out eventually.

Other than Bakugo’s vague display of concern and the nervous glances Midoriya shot him a few times that morning, nobody seemed to be obsessing over Shouto’s performance from Tuesday. After he returned to the dorms from the infirmary, Shouto was greeted with a call from his father, who was alerted to the situation thanks to the staff at UA (he couldn’t blame them, it was their job). Endeavor made him swear he would stop the childish nonsense and learn to use his quirk over the break, the ‘or else’ clearly implied.

He just wanted one day of peace, even if he knew he only had himself to blame for his struggles. Touya would have done whatever Endeavor said so that he could become a good hero. (Touya was dead. But mom was gone so could Endeavor really kill him? Shouto was afraid of the answer to that.)

It was, once again, Mineta who snapped Todoroki out of his thoughts. “Wouldn’t it be funny if Bakugo and Todoroki were the ones to fail this exam?”

Shouto didn’t even waste the time to come up with a good retort, since Bakugo already was taking care of it with a graceful “what the fuck you grape-sized bastard?”

“I’m just saying since they both failed the rescue mission last time-”

“Dude, that’s seriously not manly,” Kirishima chided, shaking his head like he was scolding a toddler.

“Didn’t Bakubabe and Todobabe get like, super strong during their extra classes, too?” Ashido offered. “They’re probably more prepared than the rest of us for this exam.”

“This is why I’m destined to never make it to the top five of our class,” Kaminari bemoans.

“Don’t you think that has more to do with the fact you don’t study? Ouch!” Sero rubs his arm where Kaminari has thrown a book at it.

“You’re one to talk,” Jirou scoffs, twirling he earphone jack in her finger.

“All of you are one to talk,” Aizawa states as he enters the room, the class quickly settling and giving him their attention. “Here is where everyone is placed so far based on the written exams.”

Behind him, writing flashes on the board, midterm scores there for everyone to see. Before he can even read his name, Shouto hears it from Yaoyorozu next to him. “Wow, you ended up beating me, Todoroki, congratulations.”

He is surprised to hear that, but when he sees where he was placed, a pit forms in his stomach. Number two, scoring three points less than Iida and two points more than Yaoyorozu. Better than his previous scores and an impressive placement in itself.

But not enough. Being number two would never be enough for the Todoroki prodigy, the boy created to be number one.

“Alright, settle down,” Aizawa sighed, rubbing his face in the palm of his hand. “We still have practical exams to get through before break begins. Now go get changed and meet outside Ground Beta.”

Shouto stood and followed his classmates out, changing efficiently so that he was one of the first out of the locker room, behind only Iida and Bakugo. The rest of the class lagged behind, discussing their excitement for the day to end and to go home to their families.

“Fuck, I just want to get this started,” Bakugo groaned, and Shouto never agreed with him more. Anything to take his mind off of the inevitable pain of training during his ‘vacation’. “Gonna kick your ass, Icyhot.”

“This isn’t that kind of exam, Bakugo. We’re supposed to work as a team and-”

“God, I fucking know that dumbass. Just, argh,” Bakugo punctuates his statement by kicking a rock to the side of the grassy area where they waited for the exam to start. Shouto wasn’t sure what Bakugo meant, but he didn’t feel like pressing for more information. Bakugo never said what he meant, and while Shouto was getting better at understanding what the blond meant, that didn’t mean he always was on the same page.

When the students of both 1-A and 1-B were all gathered together in the grassy field near Ground Beta, Aizawa, Vlad King, All Might, and Recovery Girl stood near the monitors, similar to the set up from their last joint training. All Might took over the explanation of their exam.

The first pair of students would hide somewhere in an underground mall area, playing the heroes who initially responded to a rescue call when they became trapped. The second pair of students would be sent to rescue the first before the two pairs would switch roles, and as long as everyone made it out with no major injuries in the fifteen-minute limit, then the team would pass. Exact scores would be given at the end, but the entire group would fail the exams if anyone required Recovery Girl’s quirk on either phase of the exam.

Shouto and Bakugo were given five minutes to prepare while Komori and Monoma made their way to an area of the underground mall that Shouto and Bakugo weren’t allowed to know. Surprisingly, Bakugo came into the plan levelheaded.

“We don’t know what it will look like down there, and the only quirk between the two of them right now is those damned mushrooms. So I say we hold off using our quirks until we meet with them.”

“Agreed,” Shouto nodded, expression as still as ever, though Bakugo could tell his eyes were focused on strategy in his head. After his first practical exam with Yaoyorozu, he wanted to make more of an attempt to strategize with his partner than on his own. “Both of our quirks are better suited for fighting, and I don’t know how Komori uses her quirk, so we may not end up using them at all.”

“No shit,” Bakugo grumbled, but Shouto could tell he appreciated the insight. “Anyone who didn’t pick up on Aizawa’s hint Monday is a hopeless idiot; he basically told us not to go in with our quirks right away.”

“Just be prepared to protect us from debris, and I’ll keep an eye on the integrity of the building. I have a feeling there’s more to this exam, like the last practice rescue,” he mused.

“Don’t tell me what to do, asshole!” Bakugo shouted as he marched toward Ground Beta at Aizawa’s signal, Shouto following directly behind. The lack of any real argument to Shouto’s plan meant that the other agreed, however.

Finding Monoma and Komori ended up being easier than either of the two of them expected, their 1-B pair being only two levels below ground. “Guess even class A can succeed when the test is simple enough,” Monoma gloated as soon as the four were reunited.

But, as Shouto predicted, the test wasn’t that easy. As soon as the four came together, the building shook as though a bomb had gone off. Bakugo quickly made work of blasting away any debris that threatened them with his lightest explosions, while Shouto did his best to keep the building in one piece with his ice.

“Monoma,” Shouto shouted over the noise, catching the attention of the second blond. “I need your help.”

“What do you expect me to do?” he asked, almost taken aback. “My quirk isn’t-”

“Copy my quirk,” Shouto told him, taking no time to direct the others. “Bakugo can keep Komori safe, but I can’t keep the building standing on my own with the constant shaking.”

As he said that, another large tremor shook the building; it was clear that this would continue until they were safe. Monoma prepared himself to argue, but when he saw the serious look Shouto shot his way, he shook his head and agreed. “Only since your class can’t handle these things on your own,” he sighed, tapping Shouto lightly on his extended left hand. In less than a minute, Shouto instructed Monoma on what to do, and felt literal relief as the weight of holding up the building was lessened.

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” Bakugo told them, as though nobody else noticed. “Think you can go as fast as me now, Icyhot?”

“We need to stick together,” Komori reminded the boy. “And my quirk isn’t suited for speed, shroom.”

“I’ll take you with me,” Bakugo stated, blasting a chunk of ceiling away that almost hit the girl in the head. “And Monoma can keep up if he uses my explosions.”

With a plan decided, they enacted it. Shouto pushed himself to hold the building up as much as possible on his own, while Bakugo and Monoma took to preparing the escape. When Bakugo blasted a large hole in the ceiling for the four to get through, they made their way, Bakugo holding Komori, Monoma following with his explosions, and Shouto using his ice as much as he could to follow the others.

When they made it to the ground floor of the building, Shouto switched to his fire side as quickly as he could to thaw away the threatening frostbite. Aizawa stood there to greet them, Monoma and Komori relaxing to head to the man, but Shouto could tell instantly when he couldn’t warm himself. “He’s a villain,” Shouto shouted, getting the other two to stop and stare at him.

Thankfully, Bakugo’s practice with hand-to-hand combat paid off, and the boy was able to keep their teacher away from the unsuspecting students. Komori took this as her opportunity to infect Aizawa with mushrooms, allowing the group to get away.

“Seven minutes and thirteen seconds left,” All Might’s booming voice announced when the four existed Ground Beta. “And no need for Recovery Girl. Impressive first exam!”

Aizawa, recovered from the mostly harmless mushrooms that were used, took Shouto and Bakugo to begin the second phase of their exam with Monoma and Komori rescuing them. This time went as smoothly as the first, leaving them with five minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

“Guess you two aren’t such bad partners to have, for class A,” Monoma commented to Shouto and Bakugo, winking at them over his shoulder, when all was said and done.

~*~

At the end of the exams, Vlad King and Aizawa gathered their groups separately in the common room of their respective dorms. Aizawa displayed the results of the exams- Bakugo and Shouto coming in first on the practical exam, and Shouto finishing first in his class overall.

“Congratulations, Todoroki,” Iida commended with a chopping motion of his hand.

“All right, your families will be here soon to pick you up so listen closely. You all have my number in case of an emergency but please, for the love of every hero that has come before, don’t do something stupid enough that you would need it.” The class murmured half-hearted agreements. “I’m serious, I don’t want to find one of you in the hospital.” He said this with a pointed glare at Midoriya. “Otherwise, be safe and have fun, and I expect you all to be back in the dorms between the eighth and tenth, as classes start on the eleventh. Understood?” When he received confirmation, Aizawa grinned. “Merry Christmas, kids.”

The students ran to grab their things from their rooms, Shouto quickly went to pack the few items he needed. He had everything he would need for living with Endeavor for three weeks, throwing his phone and a few other personal items in a bag. Before he left, however, he grabbed a small box off his desk, and hurried down to the room beneath his.

He didn’t have time to go shopping for the holidays like most of his class, but when he saw this on his way back to the dorms last time he saw his mother, Shouto immediately thought of the hot-headed blond in his class. He wasn’t sure what caused him to get it but wrapped in bright blue paper it was now the boy’s Christmas gift.

Shouto never got someone a Christmas gift before, seeing as in the Todoroki household, Christmas went uncelebrated as with birthdays and every other holiday (when asked in interviews, Endeavor and occasionally one of his children would talk about the amazing time they spent together to celebrate). He hoped what he picked was appropriate.

“What do you want?” Bakugo asked, catching Shouto outside his dorm room. “The hag’s going to be here any moment.”

Shouto simply held out the small box, waiting nervously as Bakugo eyed it suspiciously. “It’s a gift, Bakugo,” he explained, surprised that he wasn’t the only one in his class to not be used to this tradition.

“I know what a gift is, dumbass, why the hell are you giving it to me?” Oh, guess it was just him.

Rather than respond, Shouto shoved the small package into Bakugo’s hands, turning away before the blond could refuse it. “Open it on Christmas,” he explained, just in case the boy didn’t know about the tradition.

“I don’t need your damn gift,” he grumbled, tucking the box safely away so nobody would notice it. Shouto knew that was as much of a thank you as he would get, a small smile threatening the corner of his lips. He schooled his expression, however, as he headed down to meet his sister. There was no smiles when it came to Endeavor, Christmas be damned.

Chapter Text

While his classmates were picked up by their parents, or in the case of Iida and Asui their parents and siblings, Shouto was greeted by Endeavor’s driver. Even Yaoyorozu’s parents accompanied their chauffeur in an effort to spend more time with their beloved daughter. Shouto couldn’t say he was surprised not to see his father right away, and he was relieved; his father would certainly have embarrassed him (and not in a way he secretly loved, but literally overwhelming him with shame for his failures that his classmates were already well aware of).

Shouto doesn’t make conversation with the man driving him home; truth be told, he barely knows the driver’s name, despite having been employed by Endeavor for at least since Shouto started at UA (he didn’t pay much attention before that, never being taken anywhere without his father before this year started). Shouto doesn’t trust most of his father’s employees, not after what happened when he was younger.

Ever since his mother was taken away from him, Shouto took to hiding away during the day whenever he could get away from Endeavor. It wasn’t the most creative of hiding spaces, being just barely six years old and never having seen the entirety of the mansion he lived in, but he did manage to find a loose wall panel that, when removed, revealed a small empty area, the perfect size for younger Shouto to curl up in and disappear from sight. He assumed it was a forgotten area from a recent reconstruction to the manor, but the reason for the hiding spot didn’t matter, just that he was given such a gift after everything he had been through.

Earlier that day he went through a particularly rough training session with Endeavor that left him with a slight limp on his right leg and a suspiciously hand shaped burn across his right cheek, no worse than a mild sunburn. Endeavor wouldn’t scar his masterpiece, not after that woman already did.

“Shouto-kun,” he heard a desperate voice plead out. Fuyumi and Natsuo were still at school, not that either of them would ever come searching for him anyway. Even after Endeavor begrudgingly allowed them to see Shouto, most likely to help raise him, they still never spoke outside of dinner and maybe helped him with his homework from his tutors, if Endeavor was too busy to train him.

It was Saturday, which Endeavor normally dedicated to quirk training, keeping his other work on a western school schedule so he had more time alone with the boy. But he must have been called in for an emergency if Mari was called in. Mari was a recent college grad who interned at the Endeavor Agency, working closely with the PR department. Shouto wasn’t sure what PR meant, but Natsuo said that they lied and made Endeavor look good. Natsuo said the PR department was the ‘bad guys’, but Shouto thought Mari was always fun.

This led to his decision to peek out of his hiding spot, catching the young woman just as she was running by. “Mari-chan?” he asked quietly, crawling from the small area.

“Shouto-kun!” Mari gasped, and then fell into a fit of giggles. “What are you doing in there?”

“Hiding from Endeavor,” he grumbled, his lips forming a full pout. It was rare that he showed any emotions, Mari being one of the few who saw any expression on his face. Even his own siblings didn’t know what he was feeling, and he often figured his mother forgot all about what he looked like, as well.

Mari’s eyes were filled with sympathy when she spotted the bright red burn on his cheek. “Endeavor did this, didn’t he?” Her voice suddenly sounded older than her twenty-two years of age, and Shouto shifted uncomfortably at that.

“He wants me to use my fire, but I hate it. I hate my fire!” Shouto was seconds away from crying as Mari wiped his eyes, not even flinching when she touched his fresh scar.

“Oh, Shouto-kun,” she whispered, moving her hands up to gently pet the red and white hair on either side of his head. “It will all be okay.”

It was decidedly not okay when, later that night, Shouto found himself in the living room with Mari and Mari’s boss Tanaka-san, a middle-aged woman who smiled too wide for Shouto’s comfort. Endeavor was due home at any moment.

“Todoroki-san,” Tanaka spoke in a voice that was laced with too much sweetness. “Mari-chan here tells me that you’ve been saying some confusing things?”

Shouto tried to think back to the afternoon while he was playing with Mari. She told him all about cats after a stray walked through the garden, telling him what great pets they made. Shouto never had a pet, and Endeavor made it clear to his children that ‘outside vermin’ was not allowed in his house under any circumstance. He remembered saying he wished he could be a cat but didn’t think that’s what Tanaka was referring to.

“Todoroki-san, what happened to your face?” Tanaka asked, clarifying a bit on what she was referring to.

“Endeavor-”

“No,” Tanaka interrupted him with a shake of her head. “Your daddy didn’t do anything to you. I’m sure it was just an accident- you have a fire quirk, don’t you? Maybe you did that to yourself?”

“No I-”

“Shouto-kun,” Mari spoke up, kneeling down to his level so she could meet his eyes. “I talked to Tanaka-san about what you said earlier. She said you probably just remembered what happened wrong.”

“No, Mari-chan, I-”

“Look, kid,” Tanaka’s smile never wavered, despite her voice becoming sterner. “We can work with what you said but it’s going to be a lot of paperwork that honestly, Mari-chan and I don’t have time for. On top of that, nothings going to come of it. Endeavor’s a good hero, and even if you got into a little accident with him, that doesn’t mean anything’s wrong. Do you really want to make people doubt their number two hero just because you think he’s mean to you?”

“But he’s-”

“Shouto-kun, you need to stop playing like this. Endeavor is an amazing hero who just wants to help his son become a great hero, as well. Who knows what actually happened earlier, but I’m sure it was an accident. Don’t make everyone else worry when you’re safe, okay? It’s not like Endeavor would ever let you die.”

Shouto didn’t argue with them any more after that, instead apologizing for making Mari think something bad happened. When his father came home, Endeavor talked more with Mari and Tanaka after sending Shouto to bed.

The next day for training, Endeavor didn’t touch Shouto even once, but somehow that training was worse. He stood by the door of the training room, blocking the small child from leaving, but never laying a hand on him.

“Use you quirk, Shouto,” he taunted, flaming beard never extinguishing. Shouto always hated his father’s flaming hair; it made the man more intimidating than he already was with his height and his muscle.

“I don’t want to,” Shouto insisted, turning away, but not missing that his father increased the temperature of the room around him.

“Use your damned quirk, Shouto. It’s what you were created for.” And Shouto, still as he could because he would not allow Endeavor to see him tremble, was forced to use his right side to fight the increasing temperature from his father’s quirk.

It was one of the handful of times Shouto used his left side in training. After an hour of being forced to use more and more of his cold to combat the heat, Shouto couldn’t hide the shaking in his right hand and his sluggish movements. His father no longer blocked the door, but it didn’t matter because Shouto could barely move after using so much of his ice.

Eventually he let his own heat warm him up, when he realized his father wasn’t heating the room anymore. This repeated over and over for almost five hours, Shouto being forced to alternate with his quirk, using one side until it was too much, and then being forced to use the other.

By the end of the training session Shouto was hungry, tired, and had no idea what he felt between the fever and the chills. He couldn’t call his quirk to change his body temperature, and ice and fire were beyond him for the rest of the week. His tutors said nothing, instead they gave him more homework as Endeavor explained that Shouto had more free time to focus on his academic studies.

If he had to pick the last time he was sick, looking back Shouto would probably assume it was that week when he felt so awful he could barely do more than pick up his pencil while studying. That week when everything was too hot and too cold at the same time. That week when he was so alone he didn’t even have the comfort of his own quirk to help him. A part of him wished that he would remain quirkless forever, but another part hoped he never had such a lack of control over his own body again.

“Todoroki-sama,” the driver’s voice snapped Shouto out of his memory. “We’re here.”

“Thank you,” Shouto bowed slightly as he grabbed his bag and left the car. The driver waited for him to go to the front door, likely fearing what Endeavor would say if Shouto took the opportunity to sneak away.

When he entered the Todoroki manor, refusing to call it his own house anymore now that he had the dorms to call home, Shouto noticed the extra shoes in the genkan. Endeavor, Fuyumi, and Natsuo all seemed to be home, his suspicions confirmed when he heard his sister and brother arguing in the kitchen. He took a deep breath and headed to where his siblings were, hoping that he could enjoy part of his break before seeing his father.

Chapter Text

“Shouto!” Fuyumi practically cheers his name when she sees her younger brother walk into the kitchen. Natsuo attempts to take advantage of her distraction to stop stirring the pot, only to be slapped on the hand by a wooden spoon. “You can’t stop stirring it, Natsu, you’ll ruin it!”

Natsuo grumbled but resigned himself to stirring the sweet-smelling liquid on the stove. “What are you making, nee-san?” He tilted his head to the side, staring wide-eyed at the brown mixture. He couldn’t remember a time when something so fun was being made in their home. He knew of sweets, logically, but even seeing his classmates make them at the dorms Shouto rarely partook. The first night he enjoyed cake made by Satou, but the guilt from defying his father so quickly and obviously made him literally sick.

“Hot chocolate,” Fuyumi answered, focusing her attention on a bowl of cream and sugar. “It’s for when we see mom tomorrow.”

“Won’t it be cold by then?” dual-colored brows knit together in confusion, and Fuyumi’s gentle laugh echoed throughout the kitchen.

“It’s only to flavor the custard,” she explained.

Natsuo shook his head without daring to stop stirring the mixture. “I still think cocoa powder would have been flavor enough.”

“Mom deserves the best and I’m going to give it to her!” Fuyumi insisted, nearly bringing the siblings back to the argument Shouto interrupted. “This will be the first time all four of us have ever been together. Dad even said Shouto could spend the whole day with us.”

“He did?” This was the first time the boy in question heard about that.

“Yeah, he said since you passed your exams he’s going to give you some time off for the beginning of break,” his sister explained. “It sounds like he wants you to enjoy your break like your friends do.”

Natsuo rolled his eyes. “Sounds like he’s just pretending to ‘be a better dad’ or whatever bullshit he’s been on since All Might retired.”

“I’m sure he means well,” Fuyumi cautioned. “It must be a lot less difficult for him now that he’s finally reached number one, right? I mean, I’m sure the work is still stressful, but he finally seems happy… right?” She barely sounded like she believed herself.

As if on cue, the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard upstairs, indicating Endeavor left his office. The three siblings jumped, sharing an anxious look at each other, before staring at where the sound originated. None of them breathed as they heard his voice boom through the manor.

“SHOUTO!”

Without another word to his siblings, the bicolored boy turned away from the kitchen, any thoughts of sharing hot chocolate or other sweets burned away by his father’s hellfire. Natsuo and Fuyumi continued their kitchen tasks with tight lips, neither wanting to spoil the moment of sibling bonding nor cause any more anger to flare up in their father.

Shouto headed up the stairs, seeing his father leaning against the door to Shouto’s room, arms crossed, and a hardened glare set on his face. Shouto mirrors his position, but keeps his usual poker face, leaning against the door to his father’s room. Not that he had much intimidation against the pro hero Endeavor, but it was this mild defiance that he could express his bitterness toward his father. He knew every limit he could push to avoid getting any worse of a punishment than he already was in for, and he took advantage of that knowledge. It was, after all, the only defense he had.

Turquoise eyes burned his face worse than any kettle water ever did. Endeavor had no intention of letting Shouto in his room, and Shouto wasn’t strong enough to defeat the number one hero yet. (Would he ever be strong enough? His efforts were probably better spent creating a new ‘masterpiece’ than trying to make Shouto into something.)

“Did you pass your exams?” The man refused to put out his facial fire as usual.

“I placed first in my class,” Shouto told him. He didn’t need his expressionless mask to hide anything, not that Endeavor wouldn’t have found out anyway. “That’s what you wanted, right Old Man?”

“Watch your tone, Shouto. You need to learn how to respect heroes.” The two leveled their stares, neither backing off until Endeavor ultimately moved on. “It can’t have been that hard to be number one; after all, it’s what you were created for.”

It was that hard for you, Shouto bit back the retort. Maybe if he had the safety of the dorms, the safety of his homeroom teacher, he would have said it. But not here, standing across from the new symbol of hope. “I’ll continue to succeed,” he eventually responded with.

“Just because you managed to best some wannabe high schoolers doesn’t mean you’ve succeeded, Shouto. Get changed and meet me in the training room in five minutes. I’ll see for myself if you’re worth calling a success.” With that last remark, Endeavor moved away, entering the training room next to Shouto’s room.

As much as he wanted to turn and run, to call Midoriya or Bakugo or any of his other classmates and find shelter with them for the vacation (with as many classmates as he had he could probably manage to stay away from Endeavor the whole three weeks that way), his body moved him into his room, already changing into a spare set of fireproof workout clothes. In a force of learned habit he managed to get ready and enter the training room exactly five minutes later.

“At least they didn’t teach you to be lazy at that school of yours,” Endeavor scoffed as he watched his creation enter the room, standing as far away as he could from the man. The hero then sent out a burst of fire toward his son, which Shouto had no doubt came with intention to kill had he not been so quick to put up a barrier of ice between them. It didn’t stand long, as the hellfire melted it, but it did enough to keep him safe. “Your reflexes are passable still, at least. But tell me you don’t only plan to use your weaker quirk. Your fire needs to be at least as strong as mine, Shouto. As strong as-”

Endeavor was cut off by a large flame igniting off Shouto’s left side. “Don’t say his name,” he threatened darkly, and Endeavor could only smirk. As petulant as he creation was being, he got what he wanted. “You don’t deserve to say his name.”

“Prove you’re the one worth throwing the others away for, then, Shouto. You got everything they wanted; are you going to waste it away by being weak?”

It wasn’t the first time his father admitted to Shouto, in the privacy of the training room, that he considered his other children failures, that he intended to throw them away. But for the first time it sparked a rage in Shouto the boy was barely familiar with. Despite his icy cold glare that never changed in the face of Endeavor, the anger that bubbled beneath him was like kerosene to his left side. The more emotion he poured in, the wilder the fires on his arm burned.

He always knew his quirk was tied to his emotions- anyone with elemental quirks such as his knew that. Even his siblings were not free from the emotional state their quirks could take. Over the years he learned his dual nature was tied to the emotions as well- anger and rage fueled his fire while detachment and loneliness hardened his ice. He sometimes wondered what joy would do with his quirk, but a part of him knew that he would never find out.

For minutes that stretched into hours, Shouto threw flame after flame attack toward his father, not that his own fire was ever enough to challenge the flame hero himself, but it was enough to keep him at bay for longer than normal. But when Endeavor eventually closed the distance between them, the discrepancy in their combat skills was undeniable. And Shouto, as always, found himself on the losing end.

His father had him pinned to the wall, a large hand pressing his shoulder into the wood. The boy tensed; this was always the part of training he could never predict. The comments, the baiting, the fighting, he learned to expect those. But when Endeavor finally gained the upper hand, that’s when he lost track of what would happen. Some days the man chose to set an example and show Shouto what it would be like if a villain captured him instead. Endeavor would always say in those days that Shouto was treating this like a game. On other days he would just hold Shouto against the wall uncomfortably long while listing the ways he failed again. There were times that Endeavor would use this as a point to start training again or choose to go straight into a punishment for Shouto not taking his training serious enough.

But today was different. There was no repeating his failures, no beating him up as if he were caught by a villain, no punishments, and no further training. Instead, his father’s eyes caught Shouto’s scar, squinting in disbelief.

“When was the last time you saw that woman?” There was no question about who he was referring to.

“Not since my remedial classes started,” the boy answered, trapped beneath his father’s fist. “I haven’t had time to-”

“Then what the hell happened to your face?” With his free hand, Endeavor reached over to Shouto’s scar, thumb pressed against the mild scabs that remained from his panic attack earlier that week. His right eye strained as he tried to see his father’s hand. He wanted to know where those fingers were, hating anything on his left side that could pose a threat. “Was it one of your classmates?”

Fuck. Shouto had, frankly, forgotten about Monday night until that moment, memories rushing in of him trying to claw off his own scar. He couldn’t tell Endeavor that, there was no doubt such signs of weakness would end in greater punishment or training. “I must have scratched it,” he finally settled on a lie, “it’s been itching.”

His father huffed a breath, pressing deeper into the nearly healed wounds. “I don’t need you fucking up your own face any more than she already did,” he warned, before pulling both hands back. “You didn’t disappoint me as much as I expected today, though you still have a long way to make up for the fifteen years of ignoring me. You’ll go with your siblings to see your mother tomorrow, and while I’m patrolling on Christmas. Otherwise you will train with me, understood?”

Two visits were more than he could ask for with his extended time away from the freedom of UA. Instead of fighting, as much as he wanted to, Shouto simply nodded. “I understand.”

Rather than spend time any more time with his son, Endeavor carelessly tossed the boy to the floor, before heading out to prepare for his patrol that night. After a quick shower, Shouto glanced at the time, seeing it was already late enough that he didn’t hear the voices of his siblings downstairs anymore and assumed they went to bed (they usually went to bed, probably to block out the sound of his training, he figured). He decided that he would need rest if he was going to see his mother tomorrow. She deserved the best.

Chapter Text

The next morning he awoke to yelling, startled into hypervigilance. After a second of listening, he realized that the sounds were coming from his siblings in the hallway, allowing him to settle just slightly.

“Natsu,” Fuyumi’s whispered yell is the first thing he can clearly hear. “Let him sleep. I think he was up training with dad until he went in to work. Mom won’t even be allowed visitors yet.”

“And risk him waking up and deciding to train Shouto? No thanks,” Natsuo grumbled back. Shouto wondered briefly if his siblings arguing was the way his classmates argued, or the way his parents used to argue. He hoped the first one.

“They’re both going to wake up if you don’t keep your voice down,” Fuyumi chided, her own voice dropping a little.

Shouto drags himself off of his futon and slides open his door at that point, sparing the two siblings, and himself, from any more disagreement. “It’s fine, I’m awake now. When are we leaving?” He tone is a matter of fact, giving no indication of excitement or dread for the day.

Fuyumi and Natsuo exchange a look, and the oldest of the siblings relents. “If you get ready we’ll go get breakfast before seeing mom. I’ll go pack everything up for her.”

Finally feeling the shock of waking up leave his body, Shouto nods tiredly and turns to the bathroom attached to his bedroom to get ready for the day. Inside, his eyes met his own briefly in the mirror, his gaze attached to his scar like it always did when he saw his reflection.

“I don’t need you fucking up your own face any more than she already did.”

He didn’t think it was noticeable, after Bakugo helped him clean up. None of his classmates or teachers said anything the whole week, and his siblings didn’t even notice. Even now there were only the faintest scabs along the edge of the skin on his forehead; he had to move his bangs out of the way to even see them. But his father saw, his father always knew.

When he was five, bandages freshly removed from the wound, he didn’t quite understand the concept of a scar. Being sheltered from his siblings, protected from the outside world like it was a disease (or was Shouto the disease the world needed protecting from?), Shouto didn’t have a chance to get many scrapes from playing, nor to see his siblings get hurt. Even Touya, the one he was closest to at the time (if ‘close’ meant ‘ever had a conversation with’), never let Shouto see his own scars, at least not often enough that the child knew scarring was permanent. So when he bathed that night, he scrubbed too hard at his face, trying to wash away the imperfection.

His father had been angry. While even five-year-old Shouto was used to this, he was confused. His father wouldn’t stand for such an imperfection on his masterpiece, so why was he mad that Shouto was trying to fix himself?

“You’ll make the scar worse,” Endeavor scolded him. “You’re already frightening enough; what kind of hero can you be if everyone you save is scared of your face?”

It took three more nights of Shouto being punished for trying to fix his own face before his father explained to him that the scar was permanent, and anything he did to clean it up would only make it worse. After that, Endeavor learned that not only was the skin sensitive there, but Shouto’s limited eyesight made him anxious on that side, so whenever his father saw him pick at the damaged skin, the man would apply pressure to the wound- not enough to cause any more scarring, but enough to make sure Shouto felt pain and fear. It took a month of that before Shouto finally stopped touching his left eye around his father, even if it wasn’t to irritate the wound.

Two years before starting at UA, Shouto found a single use for his fire quirk, away from Endeavor’s training. He wasn’t sure how it started or what compelled him to do it, but after particularly rough sessions, he began adding his own small burns alongside the ones he gained from fighting with his father on his right side. When his father was sent away for an extended mission on the other side of the country, Shouto found it was a way to lull himself to sleep, as though his body and mind couldn’t relax until he felt the pain. It wasn’t even two months before his father mentioned it.

“Your quirk isn’t meant for you to do such disgraceful things to yourself. Stop this embarrassing habit before I stop it for you.”

Shouto learned that his father’s plan to ‘stop it for him’ involved a complete dismantling of his own privacy. Every moment Endeavor was home, Shouto was in his line of sight. The hero did all his paperwork from his home office, Shouto being forced to study in the corner quietly. When his father had to go on patrol, he left his son at his hero agency, under some intern’s watch. After taking a shower his father would make him prove that there were no self-inflicted burns, and he couldn’t relieve himself without knowing that Endeavor was right outside, ready to accuse him of hurting himself if he took any suspicious amount of time. Not even a week into this punishment and Shouto vowed not to self-harm again.

So, of course Endeavor would notice even the smallest of scratches on his face. And despite their subtle size, the scratches were on his face, near his scar, and obviously made by a person. He wasn’t surprised his father was suspicious. In another world, one where his father was like anyone else’s dad, he could imagine introducing him and Midoriya to each other formally. Midoriya would have loved to learn from Endeavor’s observational skills, and the two could have written textbooks on quirk genetics. But this wasn’t that world- this world was the one where Shouto hid away so nobody had to lose their number one hero.

“You still want to be a hero, don’t you?”

He tried to take comfort in the memory of his mother’s voice as he stepped into the shower. He would hear her soon enough, get to sit next to her at her hospital and, maybe if he was lucky, he would feel one of her cold hands stroke his hair, fingers laced through white locks (neither dared to let her close to his left side) as she whispered reassurances to him. She only started touching him again on his last visit before his remedial classes.

“I won’t be able to visit for a while,” Shouto explained to his mother as he was let in the room. Even today he only had about an hour to spend with her. “But I can write letters to you, Aizawa-sensei said they would be delivered.”

He didn’t meet his mother’s eyes as he told this to her. He mentioned the licensing exam to her on a previous visit, but he didn’t yet tell her about his failure. Fuyumi and Natsuo didn’t even know he failed yet, only his father.

“Shouto,” his mother’s soft voice spoke up, but he still couldn’t meet her eyes. “Did something happen?”

“I’ll just be… busy,” he excused himself lamely, still standing by the door. “But I promise I’ll-”

“Shouto,” Rei cut him off, still calm but her tone sharp enough to gain his attention. He couldn’t look her in the eyes but managed to focus on a small dimple from where she gave him a soft smile. “What’s wrong?”

“I… failed,” he finally found himself admitting, body heavy with the weight of his shame, before the same defensive explanations he gave to his father earlier that week came pouring out. “But they’re offering classes for those of us who did. It will be a lot of work and hard training, but at the end I should have my license and I’ll still be able to be a hero and-”

He didn’t realize he was rambling akin to Midoriya until he heard his mother stand and place a soft hand on his right hand. “Shouto, baby, do you still want to be a hero?”

Hearing those words again hit him in a way he didn’t expect, his eyes filling with tears as his mother guided him to the hospital bed. She let his head fall to her lap, her fingers gently stroking his scalp where their cold temperatures matched. He spent the rest of the hour crying on her lap, while she simply tried to calm down his fear. At the end of the time they had together, Shouto never did answer her question, and the trip back to UA was spent with him cursing himself for wasting his mother’s time.

Shouto wouldn’t waste his mothers time again, he promised himself that. She had enough to deal with on her own without adding his problems to it. He hoped his siblings would keep him in line, at least. He wondered what they talked about when they visited their mother. He imagined she was full of more smiles and hope with them; Fuyumi and Natsuo lived such normal lives, it was easy to be okay around them. (It was easy to be okay around people who didn’t break their own family.)

It didn’t matter if he still wanted to be a hero or not. He couldn’t be a hero, not a real hero, after forcing his mother away from the children she loved. Even if scarring his face didn’t make his left side any less like his father, at least she could now ignore that unsightly part of him.

“You ready, Shouto?”

He blinked and glanced around, wondering when he had made it all the way down to their entryway. Fuyumi and Natsuo stared at him expectantly from the genkan, their shoes and jackets already on, bags of gifts for their mother in hand. He didn’t even realize he was already ready, but at least he had everything. “Yes, let’s go,” he agreed, but before he could get his shoes on, a loud noise behind him caught the attention of the three Todoroki children, all frozen in worry.

“Shouto, where are you going?”

He turned slowly to face the only man in the world who could make him feel the unique mix of fear and defiance. And that’s even after facing countless villains who wanted him dead. “You know where I’m going, Old Man.”

“Don’t intentionally try to upset him,” Fuyumi hissed behind him, before turning her attention to Endeavor and offering him the teacher-voice she used on students who were acting out. “We agreed yesterday that Shouto would come with us to the hospital today, remember?”

Endeavor scoffed, a large hand wrapping around Shouto’s bicep, his fingertips able to touch his thumb with the size difference. The larger man yanked harshly, but the movement was clumsy and coupled with Shouto’s expectation of force, the boy managed to keep from falling off balance. “I said it depended on if he passed his exams.”

Shouto snatched his arm away, Endeavor losing his footing at the loss of contact. “I passed my exams; I told you last night I was top in the class.”

“I’ve had enough of your failures, Shouto, I won’t stand for you lying about it, too.” Meaty fingers jabbed into his chest accusingly, and a wide grin crossed Endeavor’s face. “Did you plan to lie to that woman as well?”

“Shouto wouldn’t lie to our mother,” Natsuo barked back, placing a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder in protection, and Shouto tensed up under all of the unwanted physical interaction. “And he didn’t fail his exams.”

“He made a mockery of them, of the Todoroki name,” Endeavor continued to argue, his words slurring. “Coming second to another hero’s child, a hero family that doesn’t even place near the top. Is this a joke to you, Shouto? Are you purposefully trying to be second best? Do I need to teach you the importance of fulfilling your purpose?”

“You can’t keep him from his own mother!”

“I can keep him away from her if it’s hurting him! Unless it’s all of your visits that are hurting her. I could see that she’s moved to a more private facility that would proper care for-”

“Stop,” Shouto’s voice never raised, but he spoke with conviction to make the other three look at him. His fists remained balled at his side, nails digging sharp crescents into his palm. “I’ll stay. Let them go see her and I’ll stay and train.”

“But Shouto,” Fuyumi spoke gently, “don’t you want to see mom?”

“Endeavor’s right, I’ll only make things worse for her.” His voice was resigned, and he turned his head so that his hair hid as much of his left side as possible, like that would make everyone forget the horrible things Shouto did to his own family. “I need to train before going back to UA, anyway.”

Endeavor celebrated his victory by grabbing Shouto’s arm and yanking him out of Natsuo’s hold, strong enough that Shouto thinks he might have dislocated something. The half-hot half-cold boy doesn’t give any indication of this, however, biting his lip to keep from whining in pain. “If he learns to take his role seriously he can see her for Christmas,” Endeavor offered as he shooed away his alleged ‘throwaway’ children, sending them off so he could work on his masterpiece alone.

Natsuo’s and Fuyumi’s sympathetic glances and promises to be home that night were left unacknowledged as Shouto followed his father to the training room and his siblings left the house. There was nothing they could do, anyway, when their father was so focused on training their brother.

Shouto is in the training room in his fireproof clothing in record time, not wanting to give Endeavor any reason to be angrier. He expected screaming and punches right off the bat, but when he stood face to face with the Symbol of Fear, Shouto was met with a calm voice, as though Endeavor was asking him to take out the trash or do the dishes more often, albeit with the words still sloppy. “Shouto, when I agreed with UA to allow you to stay in the dorms, I thought it would be good for you to be surrounded by so many heroes all the time, to live and breathe your destiny as I created for you. Perhaps you could learn from the others so that you would be motivated to become the masterpiece you are. But instead,” Endeavor stepped forward, his left arm trapping Shouto against the wall and his right hand coming up to grip the boy’s chin forcefully, keeping the heterochromatic eyes locked with his own blue eyes. “Instead I get you fooling around, trying to make a joke at what you were created for. Is this what you’ll be like as a hero, Shouto? Laughing at people while you never act like someone who can save them? If a little girl was about to die at the hands of one of those nomu, would you half-ass it and let her die?”

“I wouldn’t-”

“Right,” Endeavor started shouting, fingers gripping tight enough to bruise and Shouto could feel the heat coming off of his father’s left hand next to his face. It was unnaturally warm, even for the hellfire hero himself. “Because you wouldn’t even be there to save her since you can’t seem to pass your exams. Do you actually want to be a hero, Shouto? Or are you trying to make it easier for the villains to kill innocent people?” Shouto glares, but after the year he’s had so far (only two thirds of the way through his first year at a real school), the implications of him betraying his friends stings harder than anything his father’s said to him before. “You’re either useless or a traitor, Shouto, which is it?”

And when Endeavor leans close to ask that, it finally hits Shouto. The weakly-coordinated movements, the slurred and sloppy speech, and the extra bitter aggression his father’s been doling out. “You’re drunk,” Shouto tells him plainly, the tighter than necessary grip on his jaw the only thing keeping him from turning away from Endeavor.

“Alcohol fuels fire quirks, Shouto, you should know this. Maybe if you knew how it worked-”

“I know how my own quirk works; you’ve told me that a thousand times,” Shouto spat out bitterly. “I’m not getting drunk just to make my fire hotter.”

His father’s left hand moved from the wall to wrap around Shouto’s throat, squeezing enough to make the boy struggle to get air, but not completely cut off his oxygen. The hands burned like they had been sitting out in the sun for too long. “You need to learn to use your quirk. All your classmates already know it and yet here you are, half of your power new to you like a damned toddler. Do you still piss the bed like one, too? You’re fifteen, Shouto, don’t you have any shame for acting so disgusting?”

Shouto wanted to protest that he did not, in fact, wet the bed while at UA, and that most of the time he had perfect control of his quirk. Unfortunately the hands were heating up, feeling less sun-warmed and more like they just came out of an oven, and wrapping tightly enough that Shouto couldn’t get any words out, just a choked gasp.

Right at the verge of unconsciousness- the edge of the sweet promise of passing out and avoiding the rest of whatever Endeavor planned for them- his father dropped both hands, shoving Shouto to the side unceremoniously, letting his right side hit the ground. Shouto hated laying on his right side, blocking out some of the vision in his good eye and relying more on his damaged on. Endeavor knew this, pressing the foot of his boot against Shouto’s head just enough to keep him still.

The tatami flooring was clear to Shouto, as well as the image of Endeavor’s other boot on the ground, but the rest of his view was vague blurs of colors and shadows, like looking through the broken kaleidoscope Sero showed him one night when the tape hero was dazed and out of his mind (he never found out of it was drugs or a quirk, but whatever it was Sero managed to hide it from Aizawa well enough to stay out of trouble.).

A small flicker of warmth lit inside of him. He was used to his mind drifting in and out during the more intense training sessions, but for the first time he found himself thinking of friends and his time at UA, instead of reciting useless English vocabulary. He almost allowed his thoughts to wander to a certain explosive blond when the pressure lifted off his skull. Shouto quickly attempted to lift himself up and allow himself the luxury of half-perfect vision until the steel toe of his father’s boot collided with the base of his lungs.

“You’re not even going to get up and try to fight me, are you, Shouto? Maybe I should show you what a real villain does when they win. Unless that’s what you want.” Endeavor crouched down, grabbing Shouto by the hair and pulling him up to meet his eyes. “Do you like being punished, Shouto?”

“Fuck you, Old Man,” he hissed out, enough of a distraction for his inebriated father to throw up a small wall of ice, forcing Endeavor to let go of Shouto and retreat. The boy took his slim opportunity to stand, balancing himself out and preparing for whatever Endeavor would fire at him next. He could definitely feel his right shoulder was at least partially dislocated from earlier, but nothing else seemed damaged.

It was no more than two seconds after he threw up the wall that it had melted into a useless puddle, but Shouto was prepared for that. The pain in his right shoulder was enough to limit his ice attacks, but his fire was coming to him fully, no doubt that was intentional on Endeavor’s part when he dragged him away from his siblings.

He finds himself in another endurance match against his father, throwing flame after flame to keep the drunken pro at bay. Endeavor’s state makes him sloppier and much more dangerous than normal, and Shouto feels himself wearing down faster than usual. The sweltering heat takes over the room, and after a couple of hours Shouto is sweating and dizzy, his half-cold quirk useless at keeping his body temperature down with the raging fire quirks being used in the training room. Thankfully, his father also seems to be victim to the heat after a long patrol shift and no sleep, giving Shouto a break as he leans his body against the wall, slumping down to the floor in exhaustion.

Endeavor’s fire completely subsides, giving him a rare moment of the closest thing to gentleness the man can muster as he stands next to Shouto, unthreateningly on his right side, panting as though he just worked out but less exhausted than the boy. He holds out an arm to his son as an olive branch. “You finally burned your fire hotter,” he admitted, “You almost impressed me.”

Shouto, speechless and unused to praise from the man, innocently links their hands and takes the assistance in standing up. Just as he’s about to recover from the shock and say ‘thank you’ like he would any of his teachers at UA, Endeavor’s other hand once again wraps around his throat, shoving him into the wall. The fire on his face is lit once again, and there’s anger in his eyes, indicating the pro’s treacherous intent. “Why the hell did it take you fifteen years to finally listen to me, Shouto?” The man’s rage echoes through the room, leaving Shouto unable to speak again, this time not because of surprise.

“You’re a disgrace,” he continues, his hand tightening. Shouto can feel the skin on his neck start to blister, and he’s seeing spots as his father yells. “To think you’re the most perfect creation that woman could manage to make; no wonder I had to send her away.”

Shouto’s left rasping for breath when the grip on his throat is finally loosened, hand still around his neck, wheezing and coughing as his body fights for what little oxygen it can take in. Endeavor doesn’t give him a chance to recovery, however, instead slamming the boy’s head against the wall for emphasis. High pitched ringing pierces his brain as his father continues to talk. “The perfect quirk and the most useless child.”

Struggling through the sharp pain that pierces his shoulder, Shouto tries his best to put out any ice to defend himself against his father, but ultimately the heat in the room overpowers that side of his quirk, and his flames are just a tickle beneath his skin, no real fire to stand against the likes of Endeavor. More ringing and a cracking sound catch his attention before he realizes his head was again slammed against the wall. He can feel his heart pounding, and the room spins and nausea swirls in his stomach. His white hair starts matting together in red clumps from bleeding on his head.

Endeavor drops the boy, who falls to his hands and knees on the ground, vomit forced out of him by the sudden movement. It’s hard to hear from over the ringing, but he vaguely makes out his father saying ‘pathetic’ and ‘like a toddler’ again. Another harsh kick hits his ribs when Shouto attempts to crawl away, the pain in his side telling him that at least one is fractured. He falls again, his body collapses in his own vomit, and he hears the sound of boots pounding their way out of the training room. “Get yourself together. We train again in an hour,” are the last words he hears as his consciousness fades.

~*~

Aizawa-sensei.

One thought consumes Shouto.

Aizawa-sensei. Need to call Aizawa-sensei.

He doesn’t know what time it is when he comes to, or even why he was laying in the training room to begin with. But something tells him he needs to call his teacher. Fortunately his phone is in his room which is next door.

Except.

He never saved Aizawa’s number, did he? He supposes he can call one of his friends instead, but he doesn’t know who they are right now. The only name he can come up with besides his own is Aizawa.

Scratch that, he can’t remember his own name right now. But he’s sure he isn’t Aizawa-sensei and he’s sure that Aizawa-sensei can help him.

He drags his body up, limping his way toward the door. Once he’s in the hallway he can hear voices downstairs. One belongs to a female and one to a male. Was Aizawa-sensei male or female? He can’t remember, but he thinks maybe one of them can help. One of them has to know who Aizawa-sensei is. Or is one of them Aizawa-sensei?

He repeats the word over and over to himself.

Aizawa-sensei. Aizawa-sensei. Aizawa-sensei.

He isn’t sure what an ‘Aizawa-sensei’ is, but whatever it is, it seems important. Maybe the voices downstairs can help.

He braces himself against the railing at the top of the steps, dizziness rocking his vision. He forgets, for a moment, what he’s doing, wondering if he should just go back to bed. Was he in bed? He can’t seem to remember, but then the voices downstairs are talking again, and he knows he needs to go to them. One of them will know what an ‘Aizawa-sensei’ is. Why is that the only thing he knows.

He gingerly takes a step, but the spinning around him worsens and he feels the world collapse on him. His body is numb to the pain, but he vaguely registers it when he’s falling against the steps, only noticing the world finishes spinning as he lies at the bottom of the stairs. His eyelids feel heavy, and he slowly let’s them close. Maybe if he can rest for a minute, he’ll finally remember what an ‘Aizawa-sensei’ is.

Yeah.

He’ll just… sleep.

Chapter Text

Despite the warm food filling their bellies, Natsuo and Fuyumi still felt coldness take over them that wasn’t part of their ice quirk. The foreboding feeling only increased when they arrived at the hospital, and they were turned away.

“I’m sorry,” the receptionist shook her head sympathetically. “Todoroki-san has requested not to receive visitors today.” Nothing more was said, but the two siblings knew that the ‘Todoroki-san’ in question was most likely not their mother.

Natsuo kicked a rock in frustration, throwing his hands up. “I swear he wanted to do everything he could to keep Shouto from seeing her! He’s-”

“Natsu,” Fuyumi spoke quietly, anxiety lacing her voice. “We should go back.”

“What’s wrong?” Natsuo asked, but Fuyumi couldn’t find the voice to answer. “Want to check on our baby bro?” She nodded, and he placed a hand on her head, as though he were the older sibling. “Come on, I bet he’d want to see us after whatever that asshole put him through.”

And that’s what led them to their kitchen, three hours after leaving their brother with their father, putting away sweets originally set aside for the visit. “Maybe we can try to see her tomorrow,” Fuyumi offered.

“We should get his patrol schedule and sneak Shou out then.”

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy,” the older sighed, and she heard the noises of some movement upstairs, lighter footsteps signifying they didn’t belong to Endeavor. “Oh, sounds like Shouto’s done training.”

Natsuo nodded, looking around the kitchen for something to cook. “He’ll probably want breakfast.”

“He’ll probably want to enjoy breakfast, so you should let me cook,” Fuyumi taunted him with a smile, and Natsuo rolled his eyes in response.

“You only say that because he’s never eaten my-”

A series of loud thumps interrupted their conversation, and the two ran to the landing of the stairs. “Shouto, you okay?” Fuyumi called, before stopping in her tracks with a shriek. Natsuo, a second behind her in perception, followed her gaze. He didn’t scream, barely got to open his mouth for a gasp before his very minor training took over.

In front of him his brother lay limp at the end of the stairs, though Natsuo couldn’t tell just by looking if he was breathing or not. His right shoulder was clearly dislocated, though whether or not from the fall or their father was uncertain. His left ankle was twisted at an odd angle, that one was almost certainly from falling down the stairs. Fresh blood was pooling beneath him and the dried blood in his white locks was concerning. He only just started training to be a doctor, but Natsuo knew enough basic life support to take control of the situation from his stunned sister.

“Call 119,” he told her, dropping to his knees by his brother’s body. He couldn’t tell what possible other injuries the boy could have, but the lack of a pulse meant he had to do something. Gently he rearranged his brother so that he was laying on his back, starting CPR as quickly as he could. In his head he couldn’t let himself think of who this was. He couldn’t tell himself that this was his baby brother.

He already lost one brother.

Fuyumi’s stricken cries were vaguely registered in the back of his mind, just enough so he would know if he needed to answer any questions. She was frantic, but the “yes, that Todoroki residence- the patient is Endeavor’s son,” he overheard told Natsuo that, if nothing else, their would be help there sooner. He despised dropping his father’s name, but he would do it over and over if it’s what would save his brother.

It couldn’t have been even five minutes before he heard the sirens; adrenaline pushed him past his normal compression time but even that could only provide so much for him to keep going. Just as he began to take note of Shouto’s heart faintly beating again, he was relieved to hear help was there.

After allowing the professionals to take over, his task of giving the immediate response to Shouto completed, Natsuo felt his soul leave his body. His knees shook, and he collapsed against the floor, waving off a concerned paramedic, who accepted his explanation of stress. He didn’t find himself registering what was going on until the ambulance had already left with his brother.

“I got the name of the hospital,” Fuyumi told him, handing him a glass of water when she saw that he recovered. He drank the water carefully, not wanting to shock his system, his eyes focused on the ceiling as that was the only sight not stained with Shouto’s blood. “Natsu…”

“I know,” he sighed, shaking his head. “We should change and then go… you know…”

“Do you think dad knows-”

“I’m sure dad caused this,” Natsuo snapped at her, immediately regretting his tone when he saw her eyes fade impossibly darker. “Let’s just… go to the hospital and keep an eye on him, okay?” he offered, wrapping his arm around her. Fuyumi had long since given up fighting the tears, crying freely into her little brother’s shoulder. When she finally settled down enough, Natsuo led her to the wing of the estate that housed their bedrooms, convincing her to take a shower before they left.

~*~

“Apples, apples, apples!” Eri cheered, clapping her hands as Togata entered the kitchen, carrying a comically large basket of apples in his hands.

“Eri, let him set his things down,” Aizawa warned lightly. Togata was surprised to see the man freshly rested with his sleeping bag beyond arms reach. He knew that Aizawa was taking the vacation off from hero work to focus on his family, but he didn’t realize how much hero work and teaching at UA (especially class 1-A) affected him. Through the short time he spent with Midoriya and a select few others from that class, he was thankful to be far away from whatever curse they carried.

“We’re going to make so many cool apple treats!” he told her with a bright smile, watching Eri’s own smile grow impossibly wider. “Apple pie, candied apples, cinnamon apples, dried apples, apple muffins, umm…” Togata taps a finger to his chin as he tries to think of more apple desserts, setting the basket down on the table.

“What happened to just… apples,” Aizawa supplies with a sigh, reaching for one of the sweet fruits, only to have his hand slapped away by Togata.

“Those are for baking with,” Togata insists, knowing he only wasn’t expelled from UA by technicality that Aizawa is not acting as a teacher right now. Aizawa’s glare tells him that if there was a way around that technicality, he would have acted on it.

Yamada, however, finds the whole situation hilarious, bursting into the loudest laughs he could without using his quirk. “Shouta you have such a soft spot for the kids these days.”

“I do not,” Aizawa insists, but sits down on the stool next to his husband at the counter anyway, his station already prepared with supplies to peel and cut the apples.

It was Eri’s only request for her birthday- try as many apple desserts as she could. Unfortunately, with the diverse apple recipes they were able to find online, Aizawa didn’t want the poor girl eating all of that sugar in one day. So instead, they planned to bake all their apple goodie at the beginning of the break and eat them over the course of three weeks. Togata and Midoriya were both invited, though Midoriya couldn’t make it until after Christmas (with the exception of Eri’s birthday), trying to spend the extra time he could with his mother.

“We should have apple dinner,” Eri suggested, to which both of her fathers (beyond the point of just calling themselves ‘guardians’) laughed. “We can have apple rice and apple soba and apple fish-”

“I think that’s too many apples,” Yamada laughed.

Aizawa shook his head, though nothing hid the adoration he felt for that child’s carefree attitude. He didn’t expect it after everything she went through, but here she was. Planning the most ridiculous apple dinner like she didn’t get rescued from the Yakuza in the last couple of months. “How would you make apple soba?”

“Like regular soba, but with apples,” Eri answered, as though it were obvious. “The crayon boy from your class said soba is the best dinner.”

“Crayon boy?” Togata asked, looking at Aizawa for help. The dark-haired man could only shrug.

“Deku’s friend,” Eri continued to explain, not realizing that only maybe (on a bad day) eliminated one or two students from the list. “He doesn’t talk much to people, but I see him talk to cats a lot. He’s really tall and looks like he’s made from crayons.”

“Oh, Kouda-kun,” Aizawa offered, to which Eri shook her head.

“No, that’s the guy with the bunnies quirk. He has two quirks,” she informed Aizawa, as though she was the one who was stuck around his class every day. But finally, they got the answer.

“You mean Todoroki-kun?” Eri nodded quickly and Aizawa contained his laugh. “Why do you say he’s made from crayons?”

“Because he has all the colors,” she explains to him, making work of passing out apples to the three guys, already having been told she wasn’t allowed knife duty. “Like crayons do.”

Aizawa wants to ask her about his other students, curious to see how her young mind defines his unique class, but before he gets a chance to speak his phone goes off. He glances at the number- he doesn’t immediately recognize it, but as a pro hero and teacher, he knows it’s his duty to answer it. “Hello?” he asks, standing up to go take the call in the other room.

“Is this Aizawa Shouta?” a young voice asks at the other end of the line, and when they hear the confirmation they continue. “I’m calling from the Musutafu University Hospital Emergency Department. I have you listed as a contact and guardian for one of our patients- Todoroki Shouto?”

“Todoroki-kun?” Aizawa’s tone is bleeding concern enough that his husband has followed him to the living room. “What happened?”

“There’s not much I can explain right now,” the person continues, “but I wanted to inform you he’s currently in emergency surgery, and his doctors need to speak with a legal guardian. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to get a hold of his father and-”

In an effort to save time, Aizawa holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder, signing what the other person is saying for Yamada, without concerning Eri or Togata.

We need go down there, Aizawa signs, and Yamada nods, going into the kitchen to explain to the others.

“One of Shouta’s kids is in trouble,” Yamada explains to Togata. “Can we ask you to watch Eri for us? We need to go check on him.”

“No problem,” Togata flashes his signature smile, hoping to ease any worries his teacher has. “Eri-chan is in the best care.”

“Make sure she eats actual food for dinner,” Aizawa warns as he leans down to give his daughter a quick kiss on the forehead. “No apples until dessert. And do not mention this to anyone else.”

“Got it!” Togata calls after them, enthusiastically chatting with Eri to keep her mind off of the worry her dads are showing.

Yamada drives, allowing Aizawa time to message the UA staff chat.

UA STAFF

Aizawa

[This doesn’t leave this chat. Todoroki-kun is in surgery at Musutafu University Hospital.]

Shuzenji

[I’m on my way there already, they called me in for an emergency case on a teenage boy. I should have known it was one of your students, Shouta.]

Kayama

[Toshinori and I are in the area; we can meet you there. Did they say what happened?]

Aizawa

[I don’t know anything yet.]

Aizawa closed out of the chat with a heavy sigh. He didn’t even make it a full 24 hours before one of his students was in the hospital. He expected it would have been Midoriya or Bakugo. Shouto showed some signs of impulsive behavior before, but emergency surgery when nobody could get a hold of his father was suspicious. If it wasn’t for his concern, Aizawa would have sent his resignation to Nezu over text.

~*~

Kayama sets her phone down with a deep sigh, eyes meeting Yagi’s across from her. The two of them planned time together for the holidays, both teachers typically spending the time alone. It was supposed to be a comfortable, relaxing couple of weeks. They were reveling in Yagi’s sudden anonymity with the retirement of All Might and the man’s skeletal form being so unrecognizable from the hero he was. After a long day of visiting Kayama’s favorite places in the area, they settled in for a light lunch at a café near the university when their phones went off.

“We should go check on our student,” Yagi suggested just as Kayama was sending the message to Aizawa that they would do just that.

She nodded. “I told Aizawa we would meet there. Do you think it was a villain attack? I don’t think any of the students were allowed to continue their work studies, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the kid had a target on his back, being in their class and the son of the number one hero.”

Yagi switched his message to the private one between himself and Endeavor, grimacing when he saw the last time it was used was six years ago during a team up mission. The last message was Yagi inviting the man out for drinks, only to be left on read. “I’ll see if the man is alright,” he offered Kayama.

All Might

[Were you with Young Todoroki when it happened?]

That was enough, he figured; there was no way Endeavor wasn’t aware of Shouto’s state, being the boy’s father, and Yagi would be able to tell if Endeavor was injured, as well, based on if he responded.

The two wrapped up their meal quickly; they had a little time before Aizawa and Yamada would make it to the hospital from where the men lived, but they didn’t want to make their colleagues wait for them to check on Shouto.

They were still the first from UA to arrive at the hospital, and when they told the receptionist who they were there to visit, they were led to a private waiting room. Perks of being a pro hero’s son, and the number one at that. Yagi knew all too well what extra privacies were afforded top heroes. Inside the waiting room there was another woman with red and white hair and glasses, clearly older than their student. Yagi couldn’t remember ever meeting Endeavor’s wife, but this must have been her, despite looking on the younger side, since he couldn’t remember his student ever talking about any other family (or any family at all, for that matter). The awkward glances shared with Kayama confirmed that he wasn’t the only one distressed by the woman’s youthfulness, but that would be a conversation for another day.

“Todoroki-san?” Yagi spoke up, catching the attention of the young woman. He could see the puffy redness of her eyes and active tears streaming down her face, still. The crumpled tissue in her hand was beyond useful in drying her face at this point, but Yagi couldn’t blame her. “My name is Yagi Toshinori, and this is my colleague, Kayama Nemuri. We’re two of your son’s teachers at UA.”

“My… son?” She furrowed her eyebrows in thought, before she understood. “Oh, Shouto. No he’s not my… I’m Todoroki Fuyumi, Shouto’s older sister. Our brother, Natsuo, was here, too, but he just left to use the bathroom.”

The two teachers shared a quick look while Fuyumi wiped her eyes once more, thankful they didn’t have to worry about that. “I didn’t realize Todoroki-kun had siblings,” Kayama was the first to speak, taking a seat next to the other woman and gently patting her hand. “How is he doing?”

Before Fuyumi could calm herself enough to answer, the door opened again, and the three looked up at the man who entered, white hair telling the teachers he must be the other sibling. “Who are they?” Natsuo asked, walking around Yagi to sit on the other side of his sister. Yagi awkwardly took the nearest available seat.

“Shouto’s teachers from UA,” Fuyumi explained.

“Right,” Natsuo glared harshly at Yagi. “I forgot, that must be All Might, then. And…”

Kayama knew she looked so different than in her pro hero costume, especially since she was choosing to wear an oversized sweater and leggings today- nondescript and not form fitting. “Midnight, but you can call me Kayama.”

Natsuo refused to take her extended hand, which went back to providing Fuyumi comfort. “Did you really call his teachers, Yumi?”

“No,” Fuyumi shook her head. “I thought you did.”

“I wouldn’t call All Might here. Do you think Shouto really wants to see him, of all people, when he wakes up?”

“Please, call me Yagi,” the man offered, keeping his distance from the siblings. He had always thought he was close to his students, even if teaching was still a new venture for him. Despite Shouto’s social hesitance and guarded personality, he hoped that he was still one of his favorite teachers, the way most students loved him (being the Symbol of Peace for so long did a lot for his reputation with younger people). Sadly, based on the way Shouto’s older brother was talking, it didn’t sound like that.

“Natsu, he’s right here, don’t be rude,” Fuyumi hissed, but before the students could argue any further, the door opened once more, Aizawa and Yamada being escorted in by a nurse.

“More heroes?” Natsuo asked with a raised brow. The other four didn’t indicate their curiosity, but it was strange to see someone so angry at heroes that wasn’t a villain, especially when that someone was the son of a hero.

“Natsu,” Fuyumi hissed at him, before introducing herself and her brother to the two men. “You must be Shouto’s homeroom teacher, Eraserhead; he’s talked about you a couple of times before. And…. Present Mic? From the radio show?” She did her best to keep her voice light, but never managed to smile at the others.

“Call me Aizawa,” the dark-hair man said, taking a seat in the corner of the room where Yamada followed, also inviting the siblings to use his surname rather than his hero name. “What happened to Todoroki-kun? And why isn’t the hospital able to get a hold of his father?” He never was one to mince words when he needed information.

Natsuo takes the lead on answering the first question, taking care to not give away any information to the heroes. “We don’t know. We came home and found him… injured.”

“They can’t get a hold of dad?” Fuyumi asked.

“No, they called me because he needed a legal guardian here, and with the dorms at UA that includes me. Any idea where Endeavor is?”

“No, we haven’t seen him since this morning after his patrol ended.”

Natsuo looks ready to say something bitterly, but Yagi speaks up next, still caught up on the fact Shouto was found at his home. “Was this… did villains sneak into your home?”

“Why are you suddenly interested in Shouto’s home life now, All Might?” The way Natsuo asks his question puts all the heroes on edge; they can’t place it exactly, but something is wrong here, and Fuyumi answers Yagi’s question politely, keeping her brother from saying anything else that could give them some insight.

“We don’t know what happened, but I don’t think it was villains. He seemed to… fall down the stairs? We heard a noise and that’s where we found him.”

The questions continued to pile up in Aizawa’s mind. Endeavor was home this morning, which couldn’t have been too long ago since it was only noon, now was completely missing, and somehow one of his top hero students ended up in emergency surgery for falling down the stairs? Even for a normal teenager who wasn’t trained to take villain hits, falling down the stairs wouldn’t end up in this dire of a circumstance, especially considering he remembered the Todoroki estate had tatami mat flooring.

Then there was the matter of the distrustful Todoroki brother and the sister who was trying to keep the peace a little too much for Aizawa’s liking. It didn’t seem like either of them were going to give the heroes any good information right now.

After a few moments of tense silence Shuzenji finally entered the room, a doctor behind her. Closing the door behind them to offer privacy, the two waited until they had everyone’s attention before the doctor spoke.

The doctor was a tall woman with long lavender hair and bright green eyes. She put on her reading glasses and held up a clipboard desperately holding a thick stack of papers before she spoke. “Is one of you Aizawa Shouta?”

“That would be me,” the man in question followed her lead to sit at a small table with Shuzenji joining them, and the others moved to take chairs near the doctor.

“Are you alright discussing Todoroki-san’s medical care in front of everyone present?” Aizawa nodded so the woman continued. “My name is Sasaki Kano, and I’m the lead doctor on Todoroki-san’s case. I know you’re already familiar with Recovery Girl. We called her in to help with healing some of Todoroki-san’s injuries, but unfortunately there isn’t much we can do with healing quirks at this stage, at least until he’s started gaining consciousness. We were able to make use of the quirks of several of the staff to assist in his surgery and stop the bleeding, but now it’s up to his body to work through it.”

“What happened to him?” Fuyumi spoke up.

“We were hoping one of you could tell us what happened. From what I understand he was found unconscious with no pulse. Someone at the scene was able to perform CPR which brought his pulse back and is likely the reason that he’s still alive after surgery.” Natsuo’s hands gripped tightly in his lap, but he made no move to take credit, and Fuyumi decided to keep it quiet. “He presented with a large amount of injuries, some of which were more pressing than others. The most concerning included fractures to his skull and intracranial hemorrhaging, trauma to his larynx and trachea, and fractured ribs that led to a punctured lung. We discovered other fractured bones, a dislocated shoulder, and minor damage to several of his internal organs. We also found several burns across his body, as well as evidence of heat stroke and quirk exhaustion.

“He’s currently stable but it’s doubtful he’ll regain consciousness for at least a couple of days. We’re keeping an eye on his injuries in case he needs further surgery, but right now we are trying to avoid putting his body under any extra trauma. We also need permission from his guardian for any further treatment now that he’s stable.”

Aizawa eagerly began working on the mountain of consent forms and paperwork Dr. Sasaki handed him, trying to absorb all the information he could. The injuries, the burns, the surgeries, his missing father… a ‘fall down the stairs’ couldn’t be the whole story. But getting any further with his siblings wasn’t looking too hopeful, either.

“Will he… be okay? When he wakes up?” Fuyumi’s watery voice broke the silence.

Dr. Sasaki took a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking. “It’s difficult to say anything until Todoroki-san wakes up and we can give a better assessment. His superficial wounds and broken bones will likely heal fine, and his quirk should return to him with rest and fluids, though we are keeping him on quirk suppressants due to the potentially dangerous nature of them if they do flare up.” Nobody protested and she was thankful for this- usually the families of patients became angry or aggressive at the thought of suppressing a dangerous quirk, but fire and hospitals don’t mix well. “When he’s weaned off of those at home then he’ll be fine. He likely won’t want to talk much for a while due to the damage to his throat, but Recovery Girl has assured us she can heal that when he regains his stamina. The biggest concern we have right now is brain damage and paralysis. His reflexes were tested and are minimal, but the extent of the damage and his brain injury can’t be assessed while he is unconscious. When he wakes up we will have a better understanding of his current situation and can decide going forth from there.”

“I want to see him.”

Aizawa glances up from the paperwork- he needed to ask the Todoroki siblings if the boy had any allergies anyway- and watches as Dr. Sasaki turns her attention to him again. “Aizawa-san, you’re one of Todoroki-san’s legal guardians, and at this point the only one we can get a hold of. I can’t allow any visitors to his room, especially in this state, without a guardian present. I understand from what Recovery Girl has told me that you are his homeroom teacher at UA and have only been a legal guardian of his for a few months. It’s a lot to ask, but we do need to make sure we can get a hold of you if something happens, and we will need you here if-”

Aizawa holds up a hand to stop Dr. Sasaki’s concerned rambling. “I’m not leaving the boy’s side until I have to,” he assures her. Dr. Sasaki bows thankfully, giving him her info before leaving, promising she’ll send a nurse shortly once they’ve settled Shouto into his new room.

“Shouta,” Shuzenji speaks to him in a soft voice. “I’d like a moment with you privately.”

Aizawa nods and passes the clipboard to Fuyumi. “I don’t have his medical history and personal information with me. Could you fill that out while I talk to Chiyo?”

She nods and takes the papers, eyes set in determined concentration, like she herself isn’t sure of the answers. This builds only more questions in the man’s mind, but he needs to talk to Shuzenji. The rest can wait until he knows his student is safe.

Stepping into the hall, Shuzenji begins their conversation. “Shouta, the doctors gave me Todoroki-kun’s medical records. I also have every student’s medical record back at UA. There are a lot of discrepancies.”

“Discrepancies?” Aizawa raised a brow in question, his eyes darting back to the closed door.

“The only record we have at UA is that he sustained an injury to the skin around his eye. But according to his file here…” She didn’t have to finish for Aizawa to know what she was talking about. The questions kept piling up and the answers seemed further away. “Please don’t leave that boy’s side, Shouta. Not until we know what’s going on.”

Despite him already promising to remain by Shouto’s side, everything he heard from Shuzenji made his resolve strengthen. He needed to get to the bottom of this mess and keep his student safe. Somehow.

Chapter Text

Nothing could have prepared Aizawa for the scene when he walked into the room.

Being a pro hero for years, watching his own friend die, watching his students recklessly injure themselves- none of it was the same as this.

The boy looked fragile- laying perfectly still in the bed, save for a subtle rise and fall of his chest that, no doubt, was thanks to the oxygen being pumped into his lungs through the mask. A thin blanket rested on him covering up his legs and torso, but the damage was still apparent. He had bandages wrapped around his head, tufts of crimson hair haphazardly fluffed over it on his left side, while his white hair blended in on the right side. More bandages wrapped around his throat and arms. His chest had so many wires coming from it Aizawa didn’t even want to try to count them, all hooked up to various machines that told them he was, in the most basic sense of the word, alive. Multiple bags of IV fluids and medications hung up around him, tubes connected to his veins delivering substances whose names, despite being displayed for them, looked like the alphabet soup Eri writes when she tries to practice her English with Yamada.

He settles into a seat next to the boy, the Todoroki siblings taking the other two bedside chairs, the final three present taking stray folding chairs against the walls that the hospital staff brought in for them. Shuzenji had left to discuss further matters with the hospital staff (as well as get copies of the medical records for Aizawa without drawing any attention). The nurse who brought them here excuses herself, promising to come back momentarily for the paperwork.

Fuyumi hands the clipboard to Aizawa after filling out the patient information forms. ‘No known allergies. No known medical conditions. Previous injuries include a burn on his left eye.’ He hoped the woman wasn’t keeping anything secret, his discussion with Shuzenji making him doubt the accuracy of these answers. Then again, until five minutes ago they would have been his exact same answers, meaning she could be as in the dark as him.

Nobody speaks until the nurse reenters the room, taking the paperwork from Aizawa and giving them what updates she could. “We have him on antipyretics to help reduce his fever. His body’s been through a major shock, and without his quirk to regulate his temperature we’re relying on medication to do so. Hopefully we can wean him off of that in the next few days, though we will have to be careful when we take him off the quirk suppressants. We also have him on anti-inflammatories and steroids to reduce swelling, barbiturates and anticonvulsants to prevent seizures, anti-emetics for nausea, and narcotics for pain management. We’re limiting his doses of the narcotics while he’s asleep, just enough to ease him when he wakes up, as well as the antiemetics. But if he’s experiencing any pain or nausea when he wakes up we can always up the doses then. Of course we’re also giving him fluids and monitoring his heart and lung activity to make sure none of the medication exacerbates those injuries. We don’t want to run too many scans and overwhelm him with radiation, but we will be monitoring his internal injuries, as well. Any questions?”

Aizawa has had his fair share of injuries as a pro hero. Hell, the entire sports festival he was, as his husband so lightly put it, a mummy. But all of the words the nurse said meant nothing to him, other than they’re treating the child. Even still, hearing the nurse list off all of the medications and treatments for Shouto at this point made him nervous. When he took in Eri after she was tortured for years by the yakuza, she didn’t have such an extensive and involved treatment as the kid before him who, for all anyone would tell him right now, fell down the stairs. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea of the yakuza being less dangerous than the Todoroki household. And now, as the closest thing his student had to a parent right now, he wasn’t going to let anything else happen to the boy.

“Thank you,” Aizawa finally nodded. “Please let me know if anything changes.”

“Of course,” the nurse bowed and exited, leaving the group alone with the comatose boy once more.

The only sound in the room for the next forty-five minutes was Fuyumi’s barely audible whispers to Shouto. All Aizawa could understand was that they involved apologies and promises, and something about that morning. He didn’t press, not wanting to earn any more distrust from the siblings.

It reminded him a lot of his and Yamada’s cats, rescued from the street, scared and nervous and needing their space. Or of Eri, who also took her time to trust the two men. But canned fish and a few apples weren’t going to get these two to open up to him.

The door opened a crack and Aizawa saw Shuzenji’s hand sneak inside, gesturing him to come over. The other heroes nodded in understanding while the Todoroki siblings made no move. He could leave them all in the room for now; what Shuzenji had to say was no doubt urgent.

When he shut the door behind him and the two stood in the hall- a private enough area for now- Shuzenji handed him a suspiciously thick folder. “And none of this got to UA?” Aizawa cocked an eyebrow, his face buried in his scarf. The old lady knew it was his comfort when he was anxious, and nothing made Aizawa more nervous than knowing someone he was sworn to protect was hurt.

“Look at the patient information,” she prompted him, and he opened the first page of the file.

Name: Himura Shouto
Birthdate: 11 January 20XX
Quirk: Quirkless.

“Quirkless Himura Shouto? Are you sure these are the right medical records? Could someone else have the same name and birthday?”

Shuzenji sighed at his questioning, not that she hadn’t asked the same ones hours prior. “This is how he was registered with the hospital, when his older brother- Natsuo was it- gave that name, but the hospital was already expecting a Todoroki. The similarities are stunning, aren’t they?” She pointed off different parts of the patient chart as she said them. “Same height, same weight, same blood type as our boy. I could have Nezu fax over his records from UA, as well, but it seems like Himura-san and Todoroki-san are the same person, if you ask me.”

“Chiyo… do you know what this means?” The words were heavy as they left Aizawa’s mouth. The thought that Endeavor, the country’s number one hero, would lie and forge medical documents to cover up his child’s injuries was beyond shocking. And if not Endeavor, then who? The siblings? They seemed as uncertain as Aizawa. There was always the possibility of the boy’s mother, who Aizawa knew nothing about. A villain or a coincidence seemed too impossible to be considered a plausible explanation.

“I have too many questions and that boy is in no state to answer them,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Please look through these records, Shouta. You know the boy better than the rest of us.”

“I will,” he vowed, clutching the file tightly in his fists, the papers too thick to crumple easily.

And that was how he spent the rest of his afternoon- sitting in a chair by his student’s bedside, reading through medical files that he didn’t want to believe could belong to a single person.

The numerous bone fractures, concussions, and dislocated joints, for example, were already concerning on their own. If he saw those he would immediately go into questioning the parents, but it seemed that Shouto’s doctors were quick to dismiss the injuries as a result of a ‘weaker quirkless body’ and ‘clumsy behavior’. The severe burns only served as further evidence that Endeavor was somehow involved, and Aizawa wondered if there were more injuries that weren’t listed because they were treated at home.

He glanced through the medical conditions he could find besides just acute injuries. It was noted that the kid had trouble with hand-eye coordination, but beyond that there wasn’t much of a cause. Multiple pages of tests results were littered through the file, as though they were desperately trying to find some reason that he earned these injuries.

On the one hand, Aizawa learned an excessive amount about his student’s health. His diet must be impeccable, his scores nearly perfect in all areas with the exception of a lack of Vitamin D. Clearly he was getting the nutrition he needed. Several biopsies were given, though Aizawa couldn’t find any reason why they would do this because nothing seemed wrong with the child. And with every injury and test his pain scale was recorded- a never ending series of ‘0/10’ on the pain scale. There seemed to be a few overnight stays in the hospital due to injuries that matched the profile of a villain attack, but still no reports of pain or pain medications being given.

Aizawa tried to think back to his time as Shouto’s teacher. Surely he would notice of the child felt any pain, right? Everyone in the hero course had more than their fair share of bumps and bruises and (especially in Midoriya’s case) broken limbs. He’d seen the sports festival, when Shouto gave up while trying to fight Bakugo, resulting in his unconscious body lying in jagged ice. Did the child feel no pain then?

Or was he just not allowed to feel pain?

“A PHONE CALL IS HERE; A PHONE CALL IS HERE.”

Of course the thing that would interrupt his internal questioning would be that damned ringtone. Yagi never knew how to silence his phone, and if Aizawa could, he’d erase the phone’s ability to make noise. Sadly, instead, they were all sitting in a hospital room, their student clinging to the faintest grip of life, and an impersonation of All Might was shouting about a phone call.

This better be important, Aizawa signed toward Yamada, none of the others in the room commenting on what was said.

“Excuse me,” Yagi stood to exit the room, but not before the other blond snuck a glance at the phone.

Endeavor, the voice hero signed.

Aizawa was certain, now, that the Todoroki siblings didn’t know any sign language, seeing as they made no response to Yamada’s revelation. This was good information to file away. But what business did Endeavor have calling Yagi, of all people?

In that hall, Yagi stole away a quiet corner of the hospital, answering the phone right before it went to voicemail. He didn’t attempt to disguise his voice in booming All Might fashion; even if Endeavor barely knew Yagi outside of hero work, the man didn’t have it in him to project confidence. “Endeavor, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You’re the one who texted me,” Endeavor snapped back, tone verging on threatening. “What the hell do you mean? Did something happen to Shouto that nobody bothered to tell me about?”

Yagi knew there was no way that Endeavor was this out of touch with what happened- how would he be able to miss so many calls from the hospital and not suspect something was wrong? If Shouto was injured at home, would there not be something for Endeavor to have found? And did the Todoroki siblings never once try to tell their father that his youngest child lay dying?

But Yagi couldn’t come out directly and ask these questions, not if he didn’t want to anger the man more. “Endeavor, where are you?”

“How is that any of your business, All Might? Get to the point, I don’t like wasting my time.”

This was going to be harder than expected. “I’m with your son at the hospital; they tried to call you but couldn’t get a hold of you, so his instructors at school were brought in.”

The sharp inhalation told Yagi that Endeavor wanted to argue about this, but the flame hero caught himself, clearly understanding that he had no grounds to be angry about the teachers being there. “And what exactly is wrong with the boy?”

“I was hoping you could tell us. From what I understand he was at home when his siblings found him injured. Did anything suspicious happen today?”

“I would obviously know if something was going on in my own house. Now tell me where the hell you are so I can be there for my prodigy.”

Yagi sighed, but this far in there was nothing he could do to avoid the conversation. “Musutafu University Hospital,” he said, before the man hung up on him. Not even a thank you.

Back in the room, Aizawa was the first to question. “Who was that Toshinori?”

“Endeavor.” At least the man was honest.

“Why is Endeavor calling you?” Aizawa prompted, but his answer was interrupted by Fuyumi asking a question of her own.

“Did you tell him about… Shouto?” she gestured to her brother as though the others weren’t aware of the situation.

“He’s on his way,” is all the retired hero could come up with to respond. Fuyumi nodded solemnly, turning her attention toward her brother again, but it was Natsuo who surprised them the most.

“Of course, what could possibly happen from the number one hero seeing his number one puppet,” he grumbled bitterly, but not quite enough that the underground pro, trained for catching these types of comments, didn’t hear. When the boy stomped his way out of the room, however, Aizawa just filed it away as another Todoroki Family Mystery™. This was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

Fuyumi followed Natsuo out shortly after he left, meeting him at the end of the hall. “Natsu, what the hell?”

And her brother was shocked, to say the least. He wasn’t used to hearing his more mild-mannered sister cursing, much less aiming it at anyone. Not that she picked the most scandalous of words, but it was still jarring. “Yumi, what are we supposed to do? Endeavor is on his way here, we have no idea if Shouto is going to live, and those heroes are sitting around like this isn’t their fucking fault.” He barely spat out the word hero, as if saying it was enough to cause him pain.

“And storming off instead watching our baby brother isn’t going to help things, either.” She chastised. “It’s not like dad wasn’t going to find out- the hospital called him, and he would have questions if Shouto wasn’t home.”

“One of use should have stayed home,” Natsuo spoke with regret. “Endeavor had time to hide the evidence-”

“You say that like he did something! We don’t know! All we know is Shouto fell down the stairs.”

“Really, sis? Is falling down the stairs what caused cause the burns? Did falling down the stairs destroy his throat? Is he in a literal coma because he tripped down the stairs?” Natsuo was shaking with rage, fists clenched, and jaw tightened in an effort to avoid doing the one thing he hates most- reacting like Endeavor. “I… It’s my fault,” he whispered quietly, barely able to hold back the tears.

“Natsu… how is it your fault? We both went to see mom.”

“I should have… I’m his older brother, Yumi. I should have done something. I should have been faster, maybe then he wouldn’t be in a coma. Did I not help enough? I don’t… I don’t even know his favorite color.”

“What would his favorite color have to do with him dying?”

“It’s not that,” Natsuo persisted. “It’s that I don’t know anything about him and he’s my brother. What if we were closer? Could I have kept him safe if I even tried to be a real brother to him? Instead I spent so many years hating him for making Endeavor ruin our family and now, seeing him dying…”

“He won’t die,” Fuyumi spoke with certainty that she knew they both needed. Neither of them trusted the words, but her tone made them feel, for even a second, that there was hope. “He’ll wake up and then we’ll all go home and have dinner and we’ll be a family, Natsuo.”

“We’ll never be a family as long as he’s around.”

No matter how much she wanted it, Fuyumi couldn’t find it in herself to fight him on this. What kind of family could they have? Still, she couldn’t stand by and watch her brother be so bitter. “Natsu, I know dad’s made things difficult, but we can’t just kick him out of our lives, out of Shouto’s life.”

“You think even Shouto wants him around, Yumi? All he’s ever done is abuse our mother until he made the perfect quirk and then once he had that, he sent her away so that he could abuse Shouto into becoming the ultimate masterpiece for him. And where were we? Where were we when Shouto needed us most?”

“We were-”

“No we weren’t!” Natsuo quickly looked around, thankful nobody heard his sudden shout. He lowered his voice to a biting whisper, angrier at himself than his sister. “You cooked dinner when our maid went away and stayed behind after graduating, but when was the last time either of us were really there for him? How many of his wounds did you take him to get treated for? And don’t pretend you don’t know- we both heard him screaming when Endeavor would use his quirk to ‘heal’ him. None of us said anything, I never even told anyone at school, knowing what he did to our brother.”

“We were children,” Fuyumi argued. “What could we have done?”

“I never once saw him after mom went away until you started dragging me to family dinner. I blamed him for it, Fuyumi. I can’t say I didn’t know what Endeavor did to him, I heard everything, but I didn’t do anything because I … because I thought he deserved it after making Endeavor send mom away. How can he ever forgive me for that? How can I forgive myself for that? It’s our fault he’s here just as much as Endeavor’s.”

“We don’t know if it’s dad’s fault.” Even Fuyumi couldn’t hold her voice strong in the argument as Natsuo’s words began to sink in.

“Who else would give those burns to Shouto? Who else would push him down the stairs?”

“How could dad push him down the stairs? We didn’t see him anywhere when it happened.”

“I don’t know,” Natsuo let out an exasperated sigh and ran his hand along his face. “I don’t know, but I know it’s his fault. And there’s nothing we can do for him.”

“You heard the doctor,” Fuyumi reminded him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder as the taller Todoroki crumbled into her embrace. She whispered softly, rubbing his back the way she remembered their mother would do. “You saved his life. It’s your fault he’s here and not dead.”

No more words were exchanged between the two, instead just silent cries as the chaotic hospital bustled around them, apathetic to their pain.

~*~

With the Todoroki siblings currently out of the room, the four UA instructors quickly set to discussing the situation amongst themselves, the thick stack of medical files displayed for the others to see, but not even his husband was allowed to take a paper from Aizawa’s stack, the hero refusing to let anything slip his grasp any more.

None of the teachers wasted time arguing the possibility of this being a coincidence. If it was, then they were overprepared and maybe embarrassed when the truth came to light. But if it wasn’t, they couldn’t give up a precious second of thought, especially with Endeavor on his way.

“The injuries, themselves, are very clear, even if he was listed as ‘quirkless’,” Yagi shook his head, unable to believe such an obvious threat was left ignored because of the discrimination he used to face when he was younger. If he still had One For All, there would be a list of doctors he would gladly Detroit Smash into losing more than their licenses. “And how would Endeavor be able to get away with keeping himself unconnected?”

“Look at the signatures,” Kayama tapped two photocopies of different hospital admission forms. “He wasn’t admitted by the same person more than twice. They all claimed to have just stumbled on his injuries when they brought him in. Several of these people were his teachers, but I haven’t once seen a school listed on any of them.”

“He doesn’t have Endeavor listed as a relative or contact, either.” Yamada commented from where he was reading over Aizawa’s shoulder. “The only connection to him on file is a Himura Rei. None of the people who brought him in gave any contact information, only a name which could be fake. Do you think they knew what happened or do you think they really just found him like that?”

Yamada gestured aggressively toward a paper indicating a more recent injury. Five years prior the boy was admitted for severe burns that covered for than fifty percent of his body. It was nothing short of a miracle they had a doctor on staff who had a quirk similar to Eri’s that day. She was able to reverse his injured state just enough for him to not have to recover from the burns, though doing so left the boy with no memory of what happened to cause it. Aizawa didn’t miss that the doctor’s info wasn’t listed on the records. He would have to try to get access to the quirk files to find more information.

The every-growing list of tasks to unravel this mystery may intimidate a normal person, but they were heroes. And more than that, this was their student, their kid, who was injured, and likely while he was at school with none of them noticing. They all felt the amount of work they had to put in now was the least they could do to make up for the suffering the boy went through.

~*~

It was an eventful day for Dr. Sasaki Kano already. She had been vomited on, urinated on, had her hair tugged by several small children, only barely managed to avoid a quirk accident that would have ended up with her turning into a chicken for a week, and been yelled at by patients thinking their cold warranted a trip to the ER. And that was before she was called into assisting with the case on Himura Shouto, a boy she didn’t fail to notice had an already concerningly large list of injuries- more than she even saw on some pro heroes.

When she got the admission records and the notes from the surgical team, however, she became even more suspicious. These notes were documented under surname Todoroki, but the man she spoke to about the boy definitely said Himura. When another woman showed up, and Dr. Sasaki realized these were the boy’s siblings, the confusion was straightened out and she quickly began work on Todoroki Shouto.

But never without confiding in her trusted friend, Shuzenji Chiyo. Shuzenji went to school with Dr. Sasaki’s mother many years ago and has never once lost the family’s trust. If anyone could sort this out, it was the famed Recovery Girl.

Grateful for information being in the right hands, Dr. Sasaki was given a chance to focus on how to take care of the comatose boy. On paper care was easy- keep him hydrated, nourished, medicated, and monitored. But in practice she knew things were always more difficult. Keep her patient alive, figure out the suspicious case of the coincidentally identical boys, plan out potential treatment options depending on what cognitive functions the boy had left when he woke up, and now the additional practice of dealing with the country’s number one hero looming over her desk, flames erupted in anger.

“Todoroki-san,” Dr. Sasaki spoke as gently as she could, given that she was never a fan of the hero and now had even less reason to trust him. “As I explained to you already, the hospital tried several times to contact you. I can certainly ensure we have the correct information going forward-”

“All of the information is correct,” the hero snapped, but Dr. Sasaki continued as though he never interrupted her in the first place. She didn’t pay men like that any mind, personally or professionally.

“-But in the situation our only option was to reach out to his other legal guardian on file. If you wish to revoke Aizawa-san’s guardianship-”

“Obviously I do,” she had a bad feeling the interruptions would be a continuing thing.

“-Then I suggest you speak with UA regarding the process there. For now I would be willing as I can be to take you to your son’s room, but as his guardian and the person who is currently being consulted for medical purposes, Aizawa-san cannot be forced out of the room. In fact, I specifically request that he or a member of UA is present when your son has any visitors, as his state is currently very tenuous. And for safety reasons, I can’t let you walk around a hospital with your quirk like that. If you can’t control it, I’d be more than happy to prescribe some quirk suppressants-”

“Just take me to the boy,” Endeavor huffs, turning before Dr. Sasaki even stands, as though he were to lead the doctor away instead.

“Of course, Todoroki-san. Oh, but before we go,” Dr. Sasaki smiled just a little too friendly, putting her plan in motion as she spoke, “I was wondering if you were aware of a Himura Shouto, by chance?”

The fluttering in Endeavor’s flames was enough to tell her she riled the man, but his denial was quick. Little did the alleged hero know that she already was prepared for whatever he would do to cover his tracks this time.

Dr. Sasaki was a lot of things, but an idiot would never be one of them.

Chapter Text

“Dad,” Fuyumi gasped as she saw the flame-free form of her father walk by. “You’re here.”

“No thanks to either of you,” Endeavor glares at his children, Dr. Sasaki excusing herself under the guise of allowing the family to take matters from there. “Any reason neither of you thought to tell me the boy ended up here? Why did I have to learn these things from All Might of all people?”

Every time Natsuo heard his father say the name of the retired hero, it was always with venomous anger. But today there was a bitterness laced with it that he wasn’t used to, but one he could relate to all the same. All Might didn’t have a place in their family, not after everything.

“I’m sure you already knew about what you did to him,” the younger man spat back, adjusting his posture to avoid a strike from Endeavor should it come. Natsuo was bold, but still smart enough to know what his words could bring him.

“If I did have anything to do with it, I would already be aware. But certainly our minor training session isn’t what brought the boy here. He was more likely to be injured at that school of his than in my house. Now why don’t you let me see him so we can work on getting him into proper care.”

Fuyumi was the one who began walking, Natsuo perfectly happy to argue with Endeavor for days if it kept the man away from his younger brother. Unfortunately, a hallway in the middle of a hospital wasn’t the place for a fight, even if all the supplies to treat any physical injuries were readily available.

Aizawa and the others heard Endeavor well before he came in, allowing Shouto’s homeroom teacher to shove the files away quickly but safely so they couldn’t be burned. He knew the risk of losing everything was high right now.

Though it was Fuyumi who opened the door, Endeavor came in first, barreling past his daughter as though she weren’t even there. Natsuo followed in afterward, vicious glare set on his father’s back, and then finally Fuyumi shut the door to allow them privacy.

“I didn’t realize so many people were made aware of the boy’s condition before I was,” Endeavor glowered, raising an eyebrow toward Shouto’s current guardian.

“I responded as any hero should in the situation,” Aizawa informed him, careful that his tone remained his typical tired rather than the pure hatred he felt toward the man. Aizawa was a good hero- he rescued civilians, captured villains, and even dealt with debilitating injuries of his own. Never once, until this moment, had he hated someone with such pure and unadulterated loathing as he felt toward the number one hero. “I made sure he had support.”

“I’m sure you did,” Endeavor’s reply was weighed heavy with sarcasm. “Now you’re not necessary, seeing as I can care for the boy without you.”

“I have as much of a right to be here as you, Endeavor,” Aizawa argued. “And I would prefer Todoroki have the support he needs when he wakes up.”

“The only support the boy needs is me,” Endeavor informed him, the threat of being kicked out the only thing keeping him from erupting in flames. “I created him, after all. And what good are his teachers going to do him?”

“Considering he’s never been in a situation like this at UA, I’d say we’ve been doing a good job of helping him so far,” Yamada spoke up, daring to speak without the tact Aizawa was obligated to hold in this situation. He was free to upset the man, he wasn’t acting as the poor child’s guardian.

“And you think him coming home is what caused him to end up here? I don’t like the implications of that, Present Mic.”

“I believe what my colleagues are trying to say,” Yagi spoke up, hands held in the air at a futile attempt of peace, “Is that we don’t know what happened, since he wasn’t at our facility, and we want to figure out what could have caused these sorts of injuries. Your other children say that they saw the two of you this morning, and then he was injured when he came home.”

“Former number one hero or not, All Might, I don’t think you’re in any place to accuse me of being involved in this.”

“We’re not trying to accuse you,” he continued, “we were just hoping maybe you knew what happened? Did Young Todoroki have any friends over to the house that you’re aware of? Perhaps he went somewhere?”

“I’m as in the dark as you,” Endeavor stated, finally sparing a glance at the boy in the bed. It was only the beeping of the machines and the sound of oxygen being forced in and out of his lungs that told the others that he was still alive. “Who found him injured?”

“It was at home,” Fuyumi spoke up, and Aizawa didn’t miss the way her tone shifted from that of a respectful, if not distressed, teacher to a tone more fitting a young girl being reprimanded by her father. Surely she wasn’t afraid she was in trouble for finding her brother and getting him to safety? “Natsu and I came home from… our outing… and we heard a noise, and he was laying at the bottom of the stairs. That’s as much as we know.”

“Not that we had much of an outing, seeing as we were banned,” Natsuo’s tone was sharp, but he refused to look at Endeavor, Aizawa catching notes of blame there. He wondered what pieces of the story he was missing here. “And thankfully so, seeing as we only barley were able to keep Shouto alive after what happened.”

“I don’t need that kind of tone,” Endeavor snapped at his kid, and Aizawa couldn’t help the way his hands twitched toward his capture scarf. He was always on the defensive when it came toward domestic situations. “I had nothing to do with what that woman wanted.”

“Perhaps we should focus on the topic at hand,” Kayama offered, gesturing toward the half-and-half boy in the room. “What did you and Todoroki-kun do after his siblings left?”

“We trained,” Endeavor answered plainly. “Nothing more than a simple drill like he does at UA; I wanted to see for myself if the school was bothering with any worthwhile routines now that the dorm systems were in place.”

Yamada opened his mouth to defend the school, but Aizawa’s foot gently pressed to his toes kept the man quiet. The other two caught on to the gestured and let him take the lead, after carefully considering his words. “And would you say that the results were to your liking?”

He couldn’t come straight out and ask Endeavor if he hurt his son; the man would certainly lie. But perhaps if he goaded him into it gently he could get some sort of answer. He wasn’t certain about this, but it was better than nothing.

“His performance was acceptable,” Endeavor offered, knowing look in his eyes that made Aizawa wonder if he saw through the ruse. “I always expect the best from him, he was created to be a hero yet he’s in a rebellious phase where he refuses to live up to his potential. But his work this morning was better than I expected, considering he hasn’t had the same structure to his life.”

“And what structure is that?” Aizawa continued his interrogation. “If there are any specific concerns, UA is always able to accommodate its students, especially with the new dorm system in place. We wouldn’t want to create a situation that could lead to distress with anyone.”

“He needs someone who knows how to train him,” Endeavor explained, words mocking like Aizawa was a toddler who wanted to get Endeavor’s autograph. “Someone with real experience. I thought All Might would have helped, but sadly the boy takes any advantage he can to slack off.”

“What did you do in your training?”

“He showed me how he uses his quirk, that’s it. Am I under interrogation, Eraserhead? I’d be more than happy to get a lawyer if you’re trying to accuse me of hurting the boy.”

“We just want to help him,” Kayama repeated. “No need for anyone to get upset. Clearly it doesn’t seem like Endeavor knows anything about what happened, either. Perhaps it would help if we were to send someone over to investigate? I believe you have a good friend on the force, don’t you, Toshinori?”

“And what exactly are we trying to investigate, Midnight?” Endeavor spoke her name like it was illicit goods.

“Just to make sure there’s no chance of a villain breaking in. You’re a very powerful hero who has put a lot of people away, and unfortunately that garners you a few enemies, doesn’t it? None of us are immune to a little hate mail.” She winked at him, and Aizawa suppressed a gag, but allowed her to go on with her performance. If anyone could back the man into a corner with her words, it would be Kayama.

Endeavor merely rolled his eyes. “A villain break in shouldn’t be possible in my home.”

“Of course not,” Kayama nodded in a show of sympathy. “But considering poor Todoroki-kun was found injured in his home and none of its residents were present… unless perhaps his mother-”

It was Natsuo who bristled at the mention. “Our mother wouldn’t have done anything,” he shouted at her, Fuyumi’s quick reflexes to grab his wrist the only thing keeping him from marching over.

“She’s… currently not at home,” Fuyumi explained. “So it wouldn’t have been her.”

“I see. So that just leaves us with a villain, unless there’s anyone else who lives there, or maybe someone you know who would want to harm this poor child?” Kayama tilted her head to feign innocence, but it seemed what she said finally got through to Endeavor.

“Fine, send the detectives. If there’s any chance that we can find who tarnished my masterpiece, I would like them brought to justice.”

Masterpiece. Creation. The boy. Aizawa played these words over and over in his head, as well as the words he remembered from the sports festival. Had he never heard the man call his child anything paternal once. He brushed it off at the sports festival- pro heroes were known for trying to maintain certain personas for the public, and while the flame hero was dramatic to a fault he could almost understand- but now it left a sour taste in his mouth. He was pretty sure he referred to the boy as ‘kid’ or ‘child’ more than Shouto’s father seemed to. Not that he would admit just how often he referred to his students like they were his children (it was almost always, though he kept this in his head).

“He’s just a kid,” Aizawa found himself saying, before the words even registered. And somehow, even with the man who previously dominated Endeavor in the hero rankings sitting in the room with them, there was a shocked silence among them.

“He’s already in UA, Eraser, not some pathetic brat that needs saving. Mind your place around the boy.” Endeavor’s flames flicked just enough to make the threat clear, but not enough to gain the attention of any hospital staff. “I have matters to attend to, making sure this boy’s carelessness doesn’t cause any more trouble. Be sure if something happens to him I’m alerted this time.”

“You’ll be the first to know if anyone tries to kill him again,” Natsuo curses under his breath, but the words do nothing as Endeavor has already left the room by time he has the courage to speak to them. It’s like it always has been- he’s never been brave enough to call the man out to his face, no matter how many screams he heard.

From his own brother, no less. His baby brother who he swore to their mother that he would protect, the moment he learned that he’d no longer be the baby.

“Natsuo,” Rei’s gentle voice flittered through the room, her slender fingers wiping away the boy’s tears. He was so young at this point, not yet four. “Just because we have another baby doesn’t mean I’ll love you any less. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

“I’ll still be your son?” Natsuo sniffled, watery eyes meeting his mother’s. “You’ll still want me around?”

“Of course,” Rei smiled so brightly that Natsuo could see the sun in her face. “And you’ll be a big brother, just like Touya is. Don’t you want to be strong and protect your baby sibling?”

“As long as it’s not a stupid girl like Fuyumi,” Natsuo stuck his tongue out in distaste, which only made his mother’s laughter brighter. “I’ll be the best big brother around.”

And yet, immediately after Shouto was born, the baby was locked away with his mother and Touya. His father knew his quirk the moment the mismatched head of hair was shown to the world. As soon as Shouto could walk he already was training, and when his quirk came in…

That’s how Natsuo realized the Todorokis weren’t like any other family. When Natsuo got his quirk, he barely gained enough attention from Endeavor to even qualify as being disappointed. And when Shouto got his quirk, instead of the big parties most his friends’ families threw for their kids’ quirks, all Natsuo had to mark the occasion was screams of pain.

“Did you hear?” Fuyumi spoke in a rushed manner as she caught up with Natsuo in the hall. “Shouto’s quirk came in.”

“Why should I care?” Natsuo scrunched up his face, turning away so his sister couldn’t see how much he missed his mom.

“Dad’s really happy,” Fuyumi continued, and Natsuo wasn’t sure if she was mean, stupid, or knew something entirely that he never would. “He can do ice and fire.”

Natsuo didn’t sleep that night, the bits of the training session he could hear playing on repeat.

No more, Natsuo swore to himself. He needed to be strong for Shouto. He needed to fulfill his promise to his mother.

Chapter Text

With Endeavor gone, the rest of the afternoon in the hospital was much less eventful. The Todoroki siblings remained tightlipped, and Aizawa knew that it would take time before he got information from them. He had a feeling that they were on Shouto’s side, but out of caution he refused to open the Himura medical file with the two of them there. As the evening sun set the doctors came in to run more tests and exams on the comatose patient, sending the group into the waiting room during this time.

“I really should get home and check on Eri,” Yamada told his husband, gentle hand resting on the man’s back. “Togata is probably ready to go home, too. Will you be coming?”

It didn’t surprise anyone in the room that Aizawa refused to leave his student’s side. And with other matters to attend to by Kayama and Yagi, he found himself alone with the three siblings late that night, stubbornly refusing to fall asleep and watching the way the boy’s chest moved, reassuring himself that he hadn’t died yet.

“You have a kid?” Fuyumi was the one who finally broke the silence, a silence that held over the room for the past six hours.

“Eri,” Aizawa answered, then reminded himself that if he wanted answers he would have to give the others a reason to trust him first. “She’s six. We found her during a raid on the Yakuza, and she didn’t know how to use her quirk. I became her temporary foster home, but with nowhere else to go we are working on permanently adopting her.”

“Six is such a fun age,” she nodded, trying to put as much light as she could into the conversation. “I teach that age and they’re so… fun.” Her voice trailed off sadly as she realized she didn’t have more to say. It wasn’t for her lack of conversational skills- if she could carry on a conversation with her stranger of a brother she surely could handle herself against a fellow teacher, quiet as he may be. No, the issue here was she couldn’t bring herself to think of anything joyful when said brother was in the state he was in.

At least she managed to catch herself before her next comment spilled out of her mouth- an intelligible ‘I used to be six.’ A+ work there, Todoroki-sensei, she told herself.

“What do you do?” he asked Natsuo. This was the safest way to start gathering info, Aizawa supposed.

“Natsuo’s in college,” Fuyumi answered when she realized her brother wasn’t going to speak up, instead staring at the hero with large, mistrustful eyes. “He wants to be a doctor.”

“That’s an honorable path,” Aizawa nodded, feeling his skin itch for the familiar comfort of his yellow sleeping bag. But now was not the time for a rest. “I wish you well.”

“Did you always plan to be a hero?” Natsuo questioned, raising a brow. “Where are you ranked, anyway?”

“Kid I work underground; I don’t have time or energy to worry about rankings. Let the flashy pros do that,” Aizawa shook his head. “And no, I didn’t always want to be a hero, but here I am.”

Watching the dark-haired man fight back a yawn and realizing her brother (short tempered as he was) was actually making an effort to talk to a hero, Fuyumi bounced out of her seat to give the two some space. “I’ll go get us some coffee. How do you like yours, Eraserhead?”

“Aizawa is fine. And black.”

As soon as the door shut behind her, Natsuo allowed his other questions to fall out of his mouth, unburdened by others listening. “What’s your quirk?”

“What’s yours?” Aizawa couldn’t help but smirk when he saw the boy reel back at the question. “I can erase quirks, nothing fancy but it gets the job done.”

“I… um…” Natsuo didn’t expect the hero to both answer his question, and call him out for how rude it was, but it was almost enough for the pro to gain some of his respect. “I have an ice quirk. Like our mother. Fuyumi has one, too.”

“I see,” Aizawa nodded, eyes straying toward the boy in the bed. “Like Todoroki’s right half, then.”

“Yeah,” the white-haired boy snorted out in frustration, crossing his arms and staring at the small body lying in the bed. “That’s why he married her.”

“Your parents?” Natsuo nodded, the confession only coming out as long as he didn’t look at the other. “Todoroki-kun doesn’t talk about them much. It’s hard to hide Endeavor, but I don’t think anyone has heard anything about your mother.”

Rather than answer what was obviously a question, Natsuo came back with his own. “What do you think about him? Endeavor, that is.”

A long sigh escaped Aizawa’s lips; that was a loaded question. And there wasn’t a great way to answer it, at least not that wouldn’t end with somebody getting in trouble, most likely himself. “Endeavor is… he wants to be a hero, that’s certain.”

“Do you think he is?” The boys voice sounded smaller each time he spoke, filling Aizawa with dread over what history he was about to uncover.

“He works as a hero, sure. He’s saved a lot of lives and stopped numerous villains. But he isn’t the easiest to work with- most heroes won’t partner with him because of his attitude. There’s a lot of people who question his place now that All Might is out of the rankings. Frankly I don’t give much mind to the rankings and the publicity. That’s not what hero work is about.”

“Then what is it about?”

“Wish I had an answer for you, kid,” Aizawa laughed ironically with a shake of his head. “I wish I could say it’s saving people, but how much do we save them in the end? Are we just putting off the inevitable? Yagi likes to say it’s about hope and reassuring everyone, but I don’t think it’s that simple, either.” Dark eyes scanned over the boy in the bed, before Aizawa finished. “I think it’s just about doing what we can.”

“To make the world a better place?” Natsuo’s tone dripped with sarcasm, and Aizawa almost found himself wishing that this kid was in his class. At least teaching would be more interesting this way.

“No. Just doing what we can at all.” Aizawa shrugs, placing a gentle hand on Shouto’s typically cold one. It was surreal to feel his skin at a normal temperature. “So what brought your parents together?”

A long beat of silence passed over them, though the steady rhythm of Shouto’s heart monitor attested to the fact it couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds. “A quirk marriage,” Natsuo finally admitted, just in time for the door to open and Fuyumi to come flying in with three cups.

“Here,” she offered her brother and her fellow teacher, smile big and bright despite the somber look in her eyes. Natsuo wondered if she overheard any of their conversation. “Coffee always helps, right?”

Aizawa gained more questions that night and unfortunately no more answers.

~*~

Saturday and Sunday passed by in a mostly sleepless blur- even in the moments Aizawa managed to sleep it was in the uncomfortable hospital chairs, though Yamada was generous enough to stop by with his signature sleeping bag. Fuyumi and Natsuo were in and out of the hospital, taking care of things at home (likely to do with the investigation) and things with their mother, though Aizawa couldn’t gather any specifics on that. Kayama assured him that nothing about Shouto or Endeavor had slipped to the media, and Aizawa found he could rest in a quiet bubble that existed of him guarding over his ward, losing sight of the boy only to use the restroom and let the doctors run more tests (usually at the same time).

“You should go home,” Yagi suggested to him, coming in for his shift at the hospital in the earliest hours of Monday morning. The teachers created a schedule, and while Aizawa was supposed to go home and rest, he remained ever present by the child’s side. “It’s Eri’s birthday. She’ll miss you.”

“I know,” Aizawa groaned, face falling into his hands. “But what if something happens while I’m gone?”

“Nemuri and I are here,” Yagi reassured him, sitting in the chair next to him. “She’ll be here this afternoon and neither of us will let the boy be alone. The doctors will call you if anything happens, and so will we.”

Aizawa opened his mouth to protest but gave up instantly. He had a little girl to comfort at home, who was probably nervous without one of her dads around. She was incredibly strong and brave, and Yamada spoke to how well she did eating apple desserts with Togata and playing games, but there was no doubt she wanted Aizawa back. “Alright,” he finally caved. “Call me if anything happens. And don’t talk to Endeavor.”

“I understand,” Yagi promised, and with that Aizawa allowed himself to visit home for the first time since the ordeal started.

After a long nap and a shower, Aizawa was finally freshened and presentable that afternoon, awake enough to maintain his usual persona around Eri and her guests. He knew that Midoriya and Togata were to arrive at any moment, and several of the students involved in her rescue were planning to stop by. He knew the whole class was invited, but it was mostly those who were close to Eri that planned on coming, and that went well for keeping Shouto’s condition a secret.

“You like so tired,” Togata declared as he walked into the kitchen, setting down a couple of boxes. “Amajiki won’t be able to make it, so I brought his gift for him.”

Aizawa didn’t doubt the boy was too anxious to come to a party like this, but the gesture was appreciated all the same. “Thank you,” he nodded, watching as Yamada brought the last apple dish to the table.

“A feast fit for a queen!” he declared, Eri giggling shyly behind his leg.

“So everything okay with your student?” Togata asked, his voice dropped several octaves even though they were currently the only ones in the house.

“The situation is complicated, and there isn’t much we can say at the moment,” Aizawa responded, a stern look sent to Yamada. As much as the blond wanted to get the support of other UA students, Aizawa couldn’t risk anything slipping until they knew more about Endeavor or even Shouto.

A knock at the door got the group’s attention, and Togata was back to giant smiles. “I’ll answer it,” he offered, already permeating through the floor, leaving a pile of clothes behind.

“Don’t let your clothes fall off again,” Aizawa shouted after him, but admittedly the shriek of his green-haired student was enough to make the move worth it.

~*~

Eri’s party was in full swing, Aizawa and Yamada’s house currently taken over by the students from the yakuza mission, several UA staff that the girl grew close to, as well as a handful of other students who wanted to help celebrate her first birthday party. Someone gave her a game called ‘Apples to Apples’ and a group of them were teaching her how to play. It was a little difficult, he could tell, but watching the squeals of joy she had made it worth it. For a moment Aizawa was grateful Yagi pushed him to come home.

At least, until his phone rang.

He took it outside, walking to the end of his driveway to avoid anyone else hearing. “Hello?”

“Aizawa-san,” Dr. Sasaki’s voice rang through professionally. “Yagi-san sends his apologies for not alerting you, but I specifically told him to allow me to talk to you.”

“Is it Todoroki-kun?”

“Yes. When we performed our exam this morning we had some concerns about his increased white blood cell count, and two hours ago he was presenting with a high fever and upon conducting a CT scan we discovered that his spleen ruptured. He’s currently in surgery now, thanks to the authorization you signed we were able to rush him in immediately without waiting for approval. There’s no reason to be alarmed at this point, but I did want to see if you could come down to the hospital to discuss his condition further tonight?”

“I’ll be right there,” Aizawa promised, ending his call with Dr. Sasaki.

Of course this would happen. The moment he left his student in someone else’s care… this was all his fault. That was his student, his student who, until now, Aizawa never knew would be in this situation. His student who, all evidence suggested, had a home life that Aizawa vowed to use his hero work to save others from. How did he miss that in the first place? Shouto was always so reserved, and Endeavor was never a doting father. He should have figured it out. He should have-

“Shouta?” Yamada’s voice interrupted him from his thoughts, and the man spun around to see his husband. Through the front window he could still see the party going, nobody paying any mind to what the hosts were doing outside.

“Dr. Sasaki called,” Aizawa explained. “It seems Todoroki-kun had to go into surgery.”

“Is he okay?” As much as Aizawa cursed himself for not knowing, hated himself for not being there in this moment, he knew that Dr. Sasaki was competent, and if she said Shouto would be fine he had to tell Yamada that.

“She says there’s no need to be alarmed, but I have to go down there for him.”

“I understand,” Yamada nodded. “Eri will, too.”

Aizawa suddenly remembered the other members of the party. “Some of his classmates are in there. I don’t think we should announce what’s going on to them just yet.”

“We’ll tell them it’s a family emergency,” Yamada offered, and Aizawa knew this was the best excuse he could come up with. He was quiet enough around his kids about his home life that nobody noticed the sudden appearance of a sibling he never had.

~*~

“How is he?” Aizawa was straight to business when he saw Kayama and Yagi in the private waiting room, the doctors not allowing them elsewhere until after Shouto was returned to his room.

“He’s fine,” Kayama reassured him. “They said the surgery was successful and we should be able to see him soon.”

The other two Todoroki children sat in chairs near the window, both wearing expressions of heavy guilt. Kayama explained to him that the two were at home when Shouto was rushed into surgery, and Aizawa could guess that they were feeling the same way he was right now.

“Aizawa-san,” Dr. Sasaki nodded when she entered the room, Shuzenji following behind. “And Todoroki-san’s siblings, correct?” Fuyumi nodded, which allowed the doctor to continue. “I need to discuss a few sensitive matters with you, but first I need Aizawa-san’s permission for you both to stay.”

“They can stay, and my colleagues as well.”

“Thank you, Aizawa-san,” she cleared her throat before she continued, down to business as usual. “As I explained over the phone, Todoroki-san’s spleen ruptured today, indicated by the increased white blood cell count, high fever, and confirmed through CT imaging. Our team operated on him quickly and we were able to remove the organ without any other damage. Fortunately, the spleen is an organ we can live without- the liver often takes over most of its functions when it stops working, although patients are often more prone to infection. With Todoroki-sans quirk, we don’t imagine there will be too much alteration to his life since his temperature regulation helps to kill bacteria and viruses before causing infection but do be cautious in the future if there is any suspicion of illness.

“What I’m most concerned about, especially at present moment, is what caused his spleen to rupture. As I told you the day he came in there was a good deal of internal bleeding and what initially presented as minor trauma to internal organs, his spleen included. Likely, with the amount of damage the body is dealing with, recovery from these injuries would have been difficult on his own, and thus led to the rupture. We used this surgery as a chance to assist in the healing of some of his other internal trauma, to prevent another surgery. However,” she lowered her glasses and met the eyes of the Todoroki siblings directly, “there is typically a great amount of trauma required to cause this, seeing as the spleen isn’t so easy to hit directly. I understand he fell down the stairs and this, theoretically, could have caused the injury, but I need to know if there’s anything else going on at home?”

Fuyumi and Natsuo shared long looks with each other, clearly debating something between them. It was Fuyumi who finally broke the silence, and Natsuo’s expression made it clear to the others he didn’t expect her to.

“Shouto is… he… our father trains him… rougher than UA does,” she finally admitted, refusing to meet anyone else’s gaze, her soft grey eyes locked onto her fingers. “We didn’t… I never thought… I mean I know it’s not… he always said he wanted to help Shouto, our family but… he’s never… it’s never been this bad before.” Large teardrops hit her fingers, and Natsuo placed a hand on her shoulder, allowing her to push through the last of her words. “He’s here because of… because of our father, he must be. Please, just…” she took another shaky breath, voice coming out much smaller. “Please save our little brother.”

Chapter Text

The next few days were a whirlwind of paperwork and horror stories for Aizawa. From hearing the little that Natsuo and Fuyumi were willing to share about their little brother (he had a feeling it wasn’t secrecy that was keeping information from him) Aizawa was already prepared to destroy the number one hero. Perhaps he could borrow that nomu that beat his face in back at the USJ?

Instead of scheming, Aizawa found himself caught up in normal planning. Despite him and his husband already being prepared and licensed as temporary fosters- something he was disappointed to find wasn’t more common amongst the heroes- Aizawa couldn’t easily just take Shouto into his home the way he did Eri. Shouto had two parents and two older siblings, not to mention grandparents and possible other family members who had more claim to the boy than he did as Shouto’s homeroom teacher. Even the partial custody granted to them by UA’s dorm system didn’t go much further than assisting in medical decisions.

This didn’t deter the man, however, as evidenced by him pulling out his tenth file for the day, barely registering the date enough to write it on the form. How was it already Christmas?

The days were all blurred together by this point, and each meeting was more and more frustrating, but this one was the quietest. The only others in the room with him currently besides Shouto were his two siblings, the rest of the group having too much to do on Christmas with friends and family to spend too much time in the hospital. All the same to Aziawa, he preferred the comfort of silence and the Todoroki siblings seemed most open to sharing information with him when he was alone.

“Is there any trace of Endeavor’s… transaction involving your mother?” Aizawa asked, ignoring the immediate look of rage that settled on Natsuo’s face.

“I don’t believe so,” Fuyumi shook her head, adjusting her glasses as a nervous habit. “I’m sure somewhere her parents have some document of the money he sent them, but I’ve never seen it.”

“How would that even help?” Natsuo crossed his arms. “It’s not like Endeavor would just write a big check with ‘for your daughter’s quirk’ on it.”

Aizawa liked this kid, even if he wasn’t particularly helpful at the moment.

“What would this even do to help with Shouto’s case?” Fuyumi asked Aizawa.

“We need any evidence we can get that he shouldn’t be with Endeavor, and since Endeavor has both money and status as the number one hero on his side, it’s not going to be easy.” Aizawa ran a hand through his unruly hair, barely noticing that it was still unwashed from the day of Eri’s party. He cleaned only to the standard he could in the hospital, refusing to take even a step away from the boy until Shouto woke up.

“Why don’t we just tell the whole world what that bastard did? Do you really think if everyone knew what happened that anyone would let Shouto go back there?” Natsuo’s hands were balled into angry fists, and Aizawa wished there was anything he could do to help. But for now this was all he could do.

He had to convince Natsuo to not take a rash decision. “We have to play it carefully; if Endeavor knows what we’re up to he could hide evidence. Nemuri told me the police didn’t find anything in their investigation, not even a sign that Shouto was injured in the house in the first place. No blood even on the stairs, as though someone cleaned it up.”

“Isn’t that proof enough of that bastard hiding things?”

“There’s no way we can tell who cleaned it up, and he could easily say it was someone else,” Aizawa engaged in a brief staring contest with Natsuo, before the younger finally relented, seeing Aizawa’s point.

“Fine but… Shouto deserves better.”

“I know, kid.” And did he. Aizawa wished he could go back in time, to the first day of class that year, and slap his former self. Who would get the number two hero’s son in their class, see the quiet and reserved nature, and not want to dig further? Why did he think that Shouto was just ‘like that’ and not think to look deeper into it? What could he have stopped by speaking up sooner?

Logically, Aizawa knew he couldn’t change anything, even with foresight of what happened. There’s no way Shouto would say anything to him, admit any of this to him. He doubted even that he would get many answers when the boy woke up, whether or not he could give them. If he suffered this way from the day he was born, for fifteen years… What hope did Aizawa have of making this better now?

“Oh,” Fuyumi startled when she heard a ping from her phone, grabbing the device and scrolling through it. It seemed Natsuo got the same alert, as he was already checking his own. Aizawa wanted to ask, seeing their faces twisted in frustration, but a buzz from his phone led him to the answer instead.

‘[Endeavor To Sue Musutafu General Hospital for Parental Alienation]’

Oh no.

Aizawa felt a growing pit in his stomach as he read the article, detailing the hospital- thankfully currently unnamed- and their attempts to keep Endeavor away from his son after Shouto was attacked in his home by villains. The article focuses on the statement alleged by the Endeavor agency- that the man came home to find his son injured by villains, nearly dying, and when he attempted to apprehend them, they escaped, as Endeavor focused on the life of his son who was then taken away from his custody by the hospital. Endeavor even stated that the hospital accused him of abusing his son, despite having no evidence.

As if there could be a story any further from the truth.

“Bastard,” Natsuo growled, chair flying behind him as he stood up. “That lying bastard!”

“Natsuo!” Fuyumi rushed over to follow the white-haired man as he stomped out of the room. In the hall, out of earshot of Aizawa, she asked him. “What are you doing?”

“Exactly what we should have done forever ago, Yumi. It’s time we protected our baby brother, instead of letting him suffer.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? Aizawa said-”

“That was before he tried to get everyone on his side. If everyone thinks he’s a good guy, there’s nothing left, Fuyumi. We’re the only ones who can stand up for Shouto and mom right now. You can either help me or get out of my way.”

 As much as she wanted to resist, as much as she wanted to tell him to think about what he was doing, Fuyumi knew he was right. Natsuo had been right this whole time- and if she continued to fight what would happen to her baby brother next?

~*~

“And, like, who are you?” the girl with long, pastel-green hair tied into a ponytail snapped her gum as she didn’t bother to look up from her phone to see the Todoroki siblings.

“We’re Endeavor’s children,” Natsuo demanded for the third time. “And we have info on what’s going on with the case.”

“Doesn’t Endeavor have, like, one kid? That kid from that school?” long nails tapped on her screen in boredom. Natsuo was ready to rip his hair out before a voice sounded behind them.

“Kari-chan,” a tall, well-dressed woman snapped, gaining only the attention of the two she wasn’t talking to. “I think it’s best if I judge the information they have.”

“Yeah sure whatever go for it,” the girl, Kari, waved her hand, and the professional woman gestured the two Todoroki siblings over to her instead.

“My name is Uzui Hanako,” she greeted them with a bright smile. “I’m one of the reporters here at Hero News Japan.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Uzui-san,” Fuyumi bowed deeply.

“Please, no need for formalities,” she laughed, waving the politeness off. “You’re Endeavor’s kids, you say? I can see that. I didn’t think he had any kids, other than the one at UA. What brings you in today? I’m sorry to hear about the situation with your brother; you must be so shaken up by it.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Natsuo told her, voice booming with confidence he rarely felt outside of school (away from his father). “We saw the news Endeavor’s agency put out and wanted to clear up any confusion.”

“Of course,” Uzui nodded sagely, leading the two toward a small green room. “It would be a great help to the world to know what’s going on with their number one hero. We all have a right to know the real story, don’t we?”

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Natsuo?” Fuyumi tugged anxiously on his sleeve, but her younger brother was too determined to turn back now.

“She’s right, Yumi. The world deserves to know the real story.”

“Perfect,” Uzui’s teeth peeked out with her smile, as she gestured two to sit at chairs. “I’ll have my assistants come in shortly so they can prepare you. I have time to conduct a live interview today, but first, I’ll just need a little proof that you do know the story. Just something so none of us waste our time.”

Before his sister could stop him, Natsuo handed his phone over to Uzui, and she clearly was satisfied with what she saw, a few quick taps before she was handing the phone back. “Your poor brother,” she frowned, gesturing down to the picture on the phone that depicted Shouto in his current state- unconscious in the hospital hooked up to so many machines. “Thank you for being so brave to come forward. He deserves the have all this confusion behind him.”

With that, she left the room, then two assistants came in to apply just a bit of makeup to the siblings, cooing over how all the Todoroki family members seemed to have perfect complexions. It wasn’t long when the two were ushered onto a very plain set- two couches, one of which Uzui sat on while the others took the second couch, a coffee table in the middle, and a cheesy faux-living room style set. Beyond their small, decorated area, the rest of the place was filled with lights, cameras, and a few miserable-looking employees who seemed to draw the short straw on working during the holiday.

“Thank you so much for taking time out of your day for this,” Uzui grinned, putting on her camera-face. “We’ll begin shortly, but just pretend the cameras aren’t here, okay? It’s super simple, I’ll ask a few questions, and you answer them. Anyone could do that, right?” She laughed at her own joke, not seeming to note the discomfort of the other two.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Fuyumi fiddled with her hands, looking around as though there were a way out.

“It’s the only thing we can do for him,” Natsuo reminded her, and Uzui nodded enthusiastically, reminding the two that they wanted the world to know the truth, and wasn’t that what was best for everyone?

Before Fuyumi could question again, voices started shouting around them, getting ready to go live. A countdown was called out, and then-

“Welcome to a very special broadcast of Hero News Japan. I’m your host today, Uzui Hanako, here today with two of the number one pro hero’s children. After news broke this morning of Endeavor suing Musutafu University Hospital, everyone has been filled with questions. And, thankfully, these two are here to give us insight. Welcome,” She turned her attention away from the camera in front of her and toward the Todoroki siblings. “We appreciate you both coming today.”

“Of course,” Natsuo took the lead. “Anything to tell the true story.”

“Please do,” Uzui encouraged. “Tell us what happened that led to Endeavor’s son being alienated from him.”

“It was for Shouto’s safety,” Natsuo explained. “Endeavor’s the one who put him in the hospital, so it’s the only way to keep him from hurting our brother more.”

“Endeavor put him in the hospital?” Uzui’s eyes lit up with curiosity and scandal. She couldn’t believe what she was getting from them. “Can you elaborate on that?”

And so he did. Shouto’s destiny to surpass All Might, Endeavor training him since he was a child, and the inhumane isolation Shouto was forced to suffer through. “When we came home last week, we found him dying after training with Endeavor, and the ‘hero’ was nowhere to be seen.” Natsuo’s voice was filled with sarcasm when he called Endeavor by his title.

“That’s just horrible,” Uzui gasped, despite her knowledge of Shouto’s condition. From a display off to the side, Fuyumi noticed how the broadcast was shown on television- now displaying the photo Natsuo showed Uzui in the top right corner. “So all of this was because of his father forcing him to follow in the family tradition?”

Natsuo, unaware of what was being shown, continued on. “Yes. He never even thought of Shouto as part of the family, just the key to defeating All Might.”

“I have to ask, where was his mother in all of this?” Uzui tilted her head to feign innocence. “Was she ever involved in training your brother?”

“Never,” Fuyumi jumped in, desperate to defend her mother. “She always loved us so much.”

“Endeavor sent her away,” Natsuo elaborated. “She tried so hard to protect Shouto when he was younger that he drove her insane and then locked her away in a hospital.”

The rest of her questions were focused on the training Shouto received, not that the siblings knew much thanks to being isolated from him, but Fuyumi did manage to speak to the wounds she treated over the years, and the times she saw her brother being dragged off to the hospital.

“Unfortunately,” Uzui said after almost an hour of questions and answers, “This is all of our time today. But before we go, do either of you have anything else you’d like to say regarding Pro Hero Endeavor and Hero Student Shouto?”

“Shouto’s a good kid,” Fuyumi responded, blinking back tears in her eyes. “He… deserved so much more. But I still believe in him; he’s going to be an amazing hero in his own way, just like he always wanted.”

~*~

When the Todoroki siblings ran off, Aizawa knew there could only be trouble from this. But right now he had to focus on the kid in front of him. He was thankful he followed his gut instinct, too, since shortly after the two siblings left, he heard a slight stirring from the bed.

Immediately tired eyes shot up, watching the comatose boy for any sign of movement, any proof that he wasn’t imagining things. After he was almost ready to give up, Aizawa saw the twitch of the boy’s arm, before his hand lifted to land on his oxygen mask, as though to take it off.

Aizawa smiled gently, placing a hand on Shouto’s to guide him away. “You need that, kid.”

Shouto groaned and peeked the smallest sliver of his grey eye out to look at Aizawa. “Hngg… ‘zawa… sen…sei?” he rasped.

“Merry Christmas, kid.”

Chapter Text

He was so sleepy. Yes, he decided, he’d sleep.

…

Shouto wasn’t entirely sure what happened since he decided to sleep, he didn’t even know if he managed to find the ‘Aizawa-sensei’ he was looking for. But there was a comfort in his mind so he must have.

…

There were so many voices, but he couldn’t make sense of them. Who was talking? Who was around him? One of those voices had to belong to Aizawa-sensei, he was sure. He could rest, he decided. If Aizawa-sensei was here, he would be safe. And he was so tired. When did he last sleep?

…

It only felt like a few minutes, but Shouto began to feel much more rested. He was still tired and felt like a weight was lying on top of him, preventing him from doing anything. But he could think now. Or… almost think. He couldn’t catch on to any of his thoughts well enough to contemplate them too deeply, but he could at least think a little. And he knew Aizawa-sensei’s name. For some reason, that was always on his mind. Even if he still couldn’t remember his well. It was…

…

Oh, that’s why he couldn’t think, he decided. There was something resting on his face; cold, hard plastic that was very uncomfortable for him. That must be why he can’t think well. His limbs were heavy, he wasn’t sure why. But with enough effort he felt his arms twitch. Good, he could get rid of whatever was on his face and go back to normal. Whatever normal was. He didn’t know, but once this plastic was off his face, he would remember everything.

Slowly, as though he were moving through a pool of lead, Shouto’s hand started to make its way toward his face before a gentle pressure guided it back to where it came from at the side of the bed. “You need that, kid.”

Aizawa-sensei. That was Aizawa-sensei’s voice! Aizawa-sensei was here, and he would have all the answers! Shouto didn’t need to think any more, Aizawa-sensei would help him. He managed to open his eye just slightly, seeing the black and grey-clad man in front of him. Yes, he knew. That was definitely Aizawa-sensei.

“Hnng… ‘zawa… sen… sei?”

What was wrong with his voice, why did he sound so terrible? It was like he was speaking through a mouthful of gravel. Could Aizawa-sensei fix that, too?

“Merry Christmas, kid.”

Shouto didn’t know what that meant, but the exhaustion took him over again and he allowed himself to fall back to sleep.

The next time he woke, Shouto felt less groggy. The sleep must have helped.

“We increased the antiemetics for him and cut back on some of the medications that would make him drowsy. If he feels any pain at all, let us know and we’ll give him more pain medications, but for now we’d like to try and get him conscious enough to assess his cognitive functions.”

Who was that? That was definitely not Aizawa-sensei. But when Shouto opened his eyes, he sees a woman dressed in a white coat talking to Aizawa. Ah, she was a doctor. Shouto could make sense of that much. But why was the doctor talking to Aizawa? Was Aizawa hurt?

Shouto moved to go check on his teacher, gaining the attention of the two adults in the room. “Good to see you’re awake,” the doctor told him, resting a hand on his shoulder just enough so that he couldn’t move, but not enough to cause him pain. “How are you feeling?”

“Sensei… hurt?” Shouto murmured, bringing him back to the realization that he had the oxygen mask on still.

“I’m fine,” Aizawa reassured him, thankfully knowing enough to catch onto the boy’s words. “You’ve been through a lot, kid. Don’t worry about me right now.”

“No…mu?”

“We’re safe.”

The two shared a look, before Dr. Sasaki took over the explanations. “You took a bit of a fall,” she told him, adjusting her glasses. “We don’t know what happened yet, but there was certainly some injury to your head. When you wake up some more, we need to do some examinations and see how bad the damage was. Is that okay?”

Shouto looked over to Aizawa for the answer. He wasn’t sure why, but his brain told him that Aizawa was the one to trust at this point. “Sensei… where… class… test?”

Aizawa wanted to find the boy’s state funny, with the near nonsense he was speaking, but instead it only gave him a darkness to his anger he didn’t think he would ever feal about a hero. “The class isn’t here, and it’s not a test like that. They want to make sure you’re okay. Can you let them do that?”

“Listen… to sen…sei,” Shouto agreed, and Aizawa gave him a gentle pat on the hand.

“Are you in any pain?” Dr. Sasaki asked him again, leaning into her clipboard in anticipation. She wanted to do everything she could to help this boy- to help any of her patients, really. But this was certainly one of the more complicated cases she’d ever been given.

“Not… pain,” Shouto breathed out. The oxygen mask on his face and the fogginess in his brain was making all of his words so difficult. “Want… soba.”

“We’ll get you some soba later,” Dr. Sasaki promised, voice light with relief. The kid may be out of it, but he was conscious and answering questions, at least somewhat. “I don’t think we can let you eat just yet. Aizawa-san, I’ll leave you with Todoroki-san for now. I have to contact our on-call neurology staff, but we should be back within the hour to do our assessment.”

Aizawa thanked her with a quick bow before Dr. Sasaki left the room, allowing Shouto and Aizawa some much needed privacy. “We missed you, kid,” he said, awkwardly, realizing that, despite spending the last week waiting for the boy to wake up, he suddenly didn’t know what to do now that it happened.

“What… happen?” Shouto struggled to sit up again, but one look from Aizawa kept him lying in his spot on the bed.

Aizawa sighed, looking around the room before sitting in the chair next to Shouto. “We don’t know much,” he started, “but I got a call you were injured and came down here. You’ve been in a coma for the past week.”

A week… Shouto felt like this was a long and significant amount of time, but he couldn’t bring himself to figure out what it all meant.

“Your siblings found you at home,” Aizawa continued his explanation, “but that’s all we know. It doesn’t look like there was any sort of break in, and we were hoping you might have more information for us.”

Shouto appreciated that his teacher was always serious; right now he didn’t have time to figure anything else out. He didn’t feel like he was in pain, but he felt like he should be, although his body wasn’t fully numb. He felt so heavy, and every thought felt like it was drowning in a sea of his mind, too deep to get out and too hazy to have any meaning.

“Don’t force yourself, kid. If you can’t remember that’s fine. But if you remember anything, we just need you to tell us.”

There was one thing he remembered. One, single thing he remembered from the entire event; truly he felt like it was his only memory, though part of him knew that was just because the rest were somewhere in that hazy sea, promising to come back to him after some rest. “Needed… ‘zawa… sen…sei,” he choked out, to which Aizawa shook his head.

“I’m here kid, don’t try to talk so much. Your throat has a lot of damage; the doctor said it would be really painful for you.” Shouto nodded, not because he felt pain but because he felt where he should feel pain in his throat when he spoke. “We can figure it all out later. For now, let’s just see what the doctors say, okay?”

Shouto nodded, letting his eyes slip close for a moment. By the time he opened them again he realized he must have slept, since now there were three others in the room with him and Aizawa, and their scrubs and lab coats told him they must work there.

“Todoroki-san, it’s good to see you’re still conscious,” Dr. Sasaki greeted him. “I’m Sasaki Kano, and I’ve been the lead doctor on your case this last week. Don’t be alarmed if you forget my name, you’ve had a lot of trauma to your brain. My colleague, Dr. Ito Aoi, is one of our best neurologists here, and she brought her assistant, Nakamura Ken, to join us.” Despite talking to Shouto, her words were more for the benefit of Aizawa, as he would likely be the only one to take any significance in these events. “There are a few tests we want to run, most of which will tell us how much damage you had to your brain, and what we need to do to help with recovery. Are you okay with this?”

Shouto slowly nodded his head, taking in what he could of Dr. Sasaki’s words. “I know talking is painful for you right now, but we will need some verbal responses when you can. Otherwise just nodding or shaking your head will do, ok?” Shouto nodded. “Alright, Dr. Ito, feel free to begin.”

The first set of tests involved Shouto recognizing words, and to his frustration he found that none of the characters on the cards Dr. Ito showed him made any sense, even the most basic hiragana he learned as a child. He was rested enough to feel angry, even though most other thoughts and emotions were beyond him. He truly felt like a child at the moment.

It only grew worse when Shouto discovered that he couldn’t write his name, either, though by now he was able to remember it. He was Todoroki Shouto, son of the flame hero Endeavor, and his siblings were Fuyumi and Natsuo, his mother was Rei. He went to UA, the man in the room with him was his homeroom teacher, Aizawa, and his quirk was half-hot half-cold. He had classmates, he couldn’t remember how many. Their names?

“Bakugo, Midoriya, Yaoyorozu, Bakugo, Iida, umm… Iida and Uraraka?” Shouto scrunched up his face in concentration, trying not to give mind to the searing burn in his throat, despite the painkillers the doctors had him on. Talking so much finally allowed his body to register the pain Dr. Sasaki mentioned. And he refused to think about how awful he sounded and how long it took him to say these words, even with the oxygen mask temporarily removed. “Sorry, I think I mentioned Kirishima twice.”

The doctors didn’t give any indication of their thoughts on the situation, both just making further notes in their charts. That was, fortunately, the longest Shouto found himself having to talk, at least, and the doctors seemed to know what they needed to about his memory from that. What little they were willing to test of his muscle coordination only left Shouto feeling weak and pathetic. When Dr. Ito asked if he remembered the names of the medical staff, Shouto wanted to lie, but his foggy mind didn’t let him, and he settled on shaking his head instead.

“There is good and bad news,” Dr. Ito addresses Aizawa, and Shouto wants to feel annoyed that he’s being treated like a child, but his mind won’t let him right now. “Todoroki-san has lost a lot of his physical and cognitive abilities, but I believe that with the current quirks we have available and some work, we should be able to restore him to nearly his full capacity. I would like to discuss the matters with Dr. Sasaki and Recovery Girl, but there’s a good chance he will make a strong recovery. Of course, until we start therapy, we won’t know anything for certain, but for now we want to try to be positive.”

The staff and Aizawa talked more, although Shouto didn’t pay much mind to them, not that he felt like he could, anyway. All he could think about was how pathetic he felt, how weak he was, and how much his father must be disappointed.

Father. Endeavor. Hero.

“Can…” Shouto forced himself to rasp out, despite the plastic on his face again forcing oxygen into his lungs, “can I… be… he…ro?”

He needed this to be worth it. Whatever happened, if he suddenly couldn’t become a hero… his whole life would no longer have the purpose he was created for, the purpose he was crafted for. Endeavor gave him one purpose. To be a hero. And now, laying in bed with his mind clouded into a stupor, Shouto couldn’t think of anything else he could be except that.

“We can discuss that more later, after I meet with the rest of your treatment team,” Dr. Ito told him. “Let’s get you feeling better, first, Todoroki-san. You can still have so many options for the future, you don’t need to worry about the hero work right now.”

His throat was burning suddenly in a way he could never describe. His father’s fire never lit a candle to the pain he was feeling now. Each breath was painful but talking was agony now, especially as he tried to hold down sobs until he was choking on his fear. He couldn’t physically bring himself to tell the doctor she was wrong. There was no life for him outside of hero work. Endeavor made sure of that.

Dr. Sasaki must have noticed the discomfort that leaked past his poker face, and if Shouto could think more he would be mad at himself for letting it slip. Either way, the doctor walked up to his IV drip, made a few adjustments, and suddenly Shouto found his consciousness slipping again. The pain was gone, and his brain became to fuzzy to think about hero work. He’ll sleep for now, rest seemed like a good idea.

Chapter Text

Class 1-Heyyyy

Friday December 25^th

Pinky

[12:01 AM: Merry Christmas babes!!]

Red Riot

[12:01 AM: Have a manly Christmas everyone!]

Chargebolt

[12:01 AM: Merry Christmas my dudes!]

Cellophane

[12:01 AM: bros merry Christmas!]

Grape Juice

[12:01 AM: Enjoy your Christmas balls, guys]

Creati

[12:02 AM: Merry Christmas, everyone! Stay safe!]

Deku

[12:03 AM: Merry Christmas, guys! Plus Ultra!]

Froppy

[12:03 AM: Merry Christmas, kero!]

Uravity

[12:03 AM: Merry Christmas!]

Invisible Girl

[12:03 AM: Merry Christmas!!]

Earphone Jack

[12:03 AM: Have a rocking Christmas guys!]

Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamight

[12:04 AM: STOP TEXTING AND GO THE FUCK TO BED YOU IDIOTS!]

Pinky

[12:04 AM: Awww Baku-babe is grumpy because we woke him up!]

Deku

[12:05 AM: Kacchan, you know you can silence your phone, right?]

Chargebolt

[12:05 AM: I bet even Todobro knows how to do that have him show you!]

Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamight

[12:06 AM: I WILL END ALL OF YOU BASTARDS I SWEAR]

Ingenium

[12:07 AM: Merry Christmas, fellow classmates! I recommend we all go to bed and get good rest before festivities in the morning!]

Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamight

[12:07 AM: Shut up, Four eyes.]

Midoriya chuckled as he placed his phone onto its charger. He knew Bakugo refused to turn his alerts off for the same reason the rest of the class did- in case one of them was in trouble. That didn’t mean their classmates weren’t overzealous sometimes, but he appreciated the chaotic friendships he forged. And he knew Bakugo did, as well, even if the boy pretended not to. He closed his eyes, briefly wondering how the rest of his classmates were enjoying their Christmas, knowing that he would wake up to the rest of their messages in the morning.

~*~

When he woke up, Midoriya was mostly correct, though he noticed a significant lack of messages from one person in their group. Even Kouda, who often didn’t text them, managed to send a general merry Christmas message, but Shouto still had yet to send anything, and it was already noon. Even on weekends, it wasn’t like Shouto to sleep in, and he doubted any of them could sleep in this late for Christmas. A few texts were sent to check on him, but ultimately he never responded.

Class 1-Heyyyy

Friday December 25^th

Ingenium

[12:32 PM: Todoroki-kun, I understand you are likely busy, but please let us know you are safe.]

Cellophane

[12:37 PM: Bro, you didn’t get caught up in a villain attack, did you?]

Creati

[12:38 PM: Please don’t joke about that! Todoroki-kun, I hope you’re alright!]

Chargebolt

[1:15 PM: My dudes are any of you watching the news???]

Grape Juice

[1:16 PM: They interrupted the Christmas special on female hero costumes for this?]

Froppy

[1:16 PM: What’s going on?]

Grape Juice

[1:18 PM: Woah Todoroki got the shit beat out of him!]

Uravity

[1:18 PM: Wait, what’s wrong with Todoroki-kun?]

Chargebolt

[1:19 PM: Hero News Japan, you guys gotta see this.]

Red Riot

[1:19 PM: Mineta, bro, that’s super not manly.]

Grape Juice

[1:19 PM: Damn Todoroki’s siblings are super hot.]

Ingenium

[1:20 PM: Let’s not get distracted! I just turned on the news. What happened?]

Tsukuyomi

[1:21 PM: If what Todoroki-kun’s siblings say is true, I foresee dark times ahead for our society.]

Cellophane

[1:22 PM: Bros, do you really think Endeavor did that? Todobro looks pretty rough.]

Bakugo planned to ignore his phone all day, knowing that it would just be inane drabbles of the extras that surrounded him on a daily basis (not friends, Bakugo would insist, even if it made Kirishima laugh and say that he was glad they were best friends). But hearing the incessant pinging of messages, he finally gave in, taking a quick glance at the screen.

Sure, it was an asshole move of Shouto to just ghost the group chat on Christmas, when his friends are clearly worried for him, and they’ve all been known to get caught up in trouble. But honestly, Bakugo wasn’t too concerned; he trained with Shouto through their remedial courses, often in class, and they got paired up together a lot as two of the strongest students in class. If anyone could handle themselves, it was Shouto, and pestering him on what is probably one of the only days he gets to see his mom was obnoxious. Not that Bakugo would say anything- nobody, not even Shouto, knew that he had the insight he did to the boy’s life, and Bakugo wasn’t going to say anything if Shouto wasn’t going to. He knew how much privacy mattered to him, seeing as Bakugo was the same way.

The last message, sent by Sero, triggered Bakugo’s nerves, however. There wasn’t a good outcome Bakugo could imagine from a message involving Endeavor and Shouto, especially if he was looking ‘pretty rough’.

His mom was in the kitchen, loudly arguing with one of her cousins, while his dad was helping her cook dinner. He knew the Midoriya family would be over soon, but Bakugo didn’t want to wait until Deku showed up to figure out what was going on. He slipped away from the main group and found the TV surprisingly free of attention. He quickly turned on Hero News Japan, catching very little attention from around him.

On the screen he saw two people who obviously were Icyhot’s siblings, and a devious-looking reporter talking to them. Nothing special, save for the image of Shouto in the top corner, a cell phone shot of him in the hospital.

“After our mom went away,” the female Todoroki on the TV explained, “dad started training him harder. Most days when I would come home from school I would tend to his burns and bruises. Some days I would take care of worse injuries, but on really bad days we would have to rush him to the hospital-”

“The hell, brat?” his mom stood behind him, hand rested in his hair leaning over to watch the TV. “Can’t even hang out with your family on Christmas?”

“Leave me alone, you old hag,” Bakugo snapped back, pushing her arm away, though after watching what he was seeing he couldn’t put his normal force into it. If his mom noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“Isn’t that the kid you beat up at the sports festival? What the hell happened to him?”

And of course, since his mom didn’t have any better control of her shouting than he did, their conversation brought over the rest of the family to crowd around the TV, even Bakugo’s father, who seemed to be finished up in the kitchen for the moment.

“Endeavor never cared about saving people, just being number one.” It was the male now who was talking, with an unbridled hatred in his tone that Bakugo could respect. “And Shouto became the tool he used to do just that. If it weren’t for his teacher at UA-”

Bakugo couldn’t sit here listening to this anymore. Not with half his family debating whether or not Endeavor would actually hurt Shouto, and not while listening to the other half question who the two on TV were, and how they only suddenly made an appearance now.

“Oi, don’t leave, you brat!” his mom yelled, but there was no effect of her words, as Bakugo slammed the door to his room a moment later.

His first instinct is to check his phone, and he regrets it immediately after seeing all the new messages.

Class 1-Heyyyy

Friday, December 25^th

Grape Juice

[1:23 PM: There’s no way right? They have to be making it up for attention.]

Uravity

[1:24 PM: None of us were there, so we don’t know. But they said he’s been in a coma for a week?! That was the first day of our break!]

Red Riot

[1:25 PM: I doubt Todoroki would want us speculating on his life like this.]

Froppy

[1:26 PM: Come to think of it, nobody has heard from him since we all went home, have we?]

Chargebolt

[1:26 PM: If this is all real why wouldn’t he say anything?]

Earphone Jack

[1:26 PM: You really think he wanted us all to know about this?]

Ingenium

[1:27 PM: It’s not right of us to make assumptions on Todoroki-kun’s life.]

Creati

[1:28 PM: Iida-kun is right. And Todoroki-kun can see these messages when he wakes up.]

Uravity

[1:28 PM: I can’t believe he’s in the hospital right now!]

Pinky

[1:28 PM: I know! And we were all supposed to hang out tomorrow.]

Deku

[1:29 PM: I just saw what happened. I’m worried about Todoroki-kun. I think I should go check on him tomorrow, instead of going to the mall.]

Uravity

[1:30 PM: Me, too, Deku! I bet he’ll be happy to have his friends over!]

Froppy

[1:30 PM: I’ll go as well, kero.]

Ingenium

[1:30 PM: I’ll join you, as long as we don’t overwhelm him.]

Creati

[1:31 PM: Same. We can make him a card, as well.]

Midoriya must have been on his way over during this, Bakugo realized, since he could hear the boy rambling on in the living room. The blond ignored it for now; he didn’t want to be annoyed by Deku of all people while processing… whatever this was.

The rest of the chat kept going on, making plans to see Shouto the next day. Just as he went to put his phone down, his eyes strayed over to his desk.

Sitting there, innocent and offensively joyful in the moment, was the stupid gift Shouto gave him before the break. Bright blue paper shined underneath his room light, taunting him with its whimsy. He wanted to explode the gift, destroy it and never think about the stupid Icyhot bastard who gave it to him. Why the hell did he anyway? As far as Bakugo knew, he didn’t give gifts to any of the other students. What made Bakugo special?

And why the hell did Bakugo want to be special?

Instead of throwing it away or destroying it, Bakugo carefully slid his finger under the beautifully wrapped paper- no doubt the idiot who couldn’t even cut chives had someone else wrap this. And Bakugo was a perfectionist at everything he did, so after unwrapping the gift he gently folded up the paper so that it was undamaged and neatly placed it in his wastebasket.

He was greeted by a small white box, which he carefully took the lid off, careful not to disturb what was inside (and no, not because he was afraid of what he would see, thank you very much). He pulled out a small ceramic container, holding a bright red spiky plant. He fought the urge to touch his fingers against the spikes, remembering what little he knew about cactus care.

He set the plant aside, grabbing the small card that was in the box.

Moon Cactus is a diverse type of succulent, whose bright colored tops give it a distinct look among cacti. They love lots of sunlight and occasional water and are native to areas of South America.

The bastard gave him a cactus? Lots of sunlight and only a little water, at least he could do that. The back of the information card had a quickly scrawled note from Shouto.

Bakugo-kun

This reminded me of you.

Todoroki Shouto.

The idiot even signed his name, like Bakugo wouldn’t know it was from him after he shoved it in his arms. The blond scoffed down a laugh. What kind of candy-cane idiot did Shouto have to be to put a sun-loving cactus in a box for at least a week? Thank god the plant didn’t die.

Bakugo decided it was up to him now to keep the damn thing alive. And now he had to go to the hospital with the others tomorrow, so he could tell the bastard off for putting the stupid plant in a stupid box. Whatever. He walked out of his room, not before putting the plant in the sun so it could get some extra light. He wouldn’t let Shouto the plant suffer any more.

Chapter Text

The evening sun filtered through the window when Shouto woke up next. His head still felt foggy and like his brain was made of sludge, but he vaguely remembered what happened. He was in the hospital with… something with his brain. And Aizawa was there. And there were some doctors or something he was pretty sure of. Doctors lived at the hospital, right? At least that all made sense. But he couldn’t help feeling that something was missing.

“How are you feeling kid?” Aizawa’s voice brought his focus to the situation around him. Shouto turned his head to look at the man, attempting to sit up until the pressure in his stomach forced him back against the bed. “Don’t push yourself,” Aizawa told him, “your body has been through a lot this week.”

“Hnnn,” Shouto groaned, settling his body back against the bed. He wanted to speak, but even the most timid of sounds caused an overwhelming pain in his throat, and he didn’t feel like suffering it any more.

When the door slid open, Shouto groggily turned his head toward the noise, realizing what he felt was missing. His siblings weren’t there, although they rarely ever visited him in the hospital as a kid. But Endeavor was missing, too. Despite that, the man who walked through the door was only his English teacher.

“Eri’s playing with Togata,” Yamada informed Aizawa. “I wanted to get here as soon as you called but-”

“It’s okay,” Aizawa reassured him, gesturing to Shouto laying in the bed. “He just woke up again.”

“How’s it going, little listener?” Yamada turned his attention toward the bicolored boy, settling into another chair next to the bed. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Don’t’ make him talk,” Aizawa spoke, but Shouto saw the words he was signing, clearly trying to keep this part of the conversation a secret. But even in his fog, Shouto could follow the hand movements well enough to pick up the basics. He has trauma to his brain from what happened, and I don’t think he remembers anything.

So we can’t tell if Endeavor did this?

I’m sure he did. But without proof…. Aizawa’s hands fell limply to his side at that.

“’nde’or… did… this?” Shouto forced the words out of his throat; he needed answers, even as agonizing as the question was to ask.

The men shared a look before turning their attention to him. “Todoroki, do you know sign language?” Yamada asked him, and Shouto gave a sloppy response, muscles weak from so long in the hospital, but both of his teachers could understand he was confirming that he could. “I guess there’s no use hiding this from him, is there, Shouta?”

Aizawa sighed deeply, but gave in, knowing he didn’t have much other choice. Stressing the boy out seemed like the wrong choice, especially in his state. “We don’t know what happened, but your siblings seem to think it has something to do with Endeavor. We don’t know anything for sure yet, but until we do, we aren’t going to leave you alone with any of your family.”

Where… Shouto couldn’t bring himself to finish his question, but he was understood, anyway.

“Your siblings should be back soon, and Endeavor’s at work right now.” Aizawa’s phone pinged loudly in his pocket and a quick glance had him rushing toward the door of the room. “I have to take this, ‘Zashi, can you watch him for me?”

“We’ll just be chilling,” Yamada assured him with a large thumbs up, before turning back to Shouto as Aizawa snuck into the hall.

What about school?

“Huh? Oh you still have two weeks of break, kiddo, no need to worry about school right now. Yeah, I’m sure you’ll be back to normal before we even have a chance to get to the dorms.” Yamada knew he was rambling, but he never handled long silences well. It wasn’t until Eri moved in with the two that he finally broke his habit of narrating everything he did, since Aizawa wasn’t known for being especially chatty. “Don’t tell the others, but when you come back I have a surprise test for you all. See how much of that English you students remember. I bet most of you will forget it over the break. Oh but, don’t worry if you do, I guess you have an excuse. Don’t let your friends know or they’ll try to get out of tests this way, too.”

Even if he were with all his wits, Shouto still wasn’t certain how much his teacher was joking, so he nodded seriously, instead. He had no plans to tell his classmates, anyway, since he was sure he would feel embarrassed about his situation if they knew. Somewhere in his mind, he vaguely remembered visiting at least one of his friends in the hospital over that last year. Or maybe he was visited in the hospital? Both seemed equally likely. Which friend of his was always in the hospital? He hoped it wasn’t Bakugo.

Shouto didn’t have the energy to tell himself that he shouldn’t hope any of his friends was in the hospital, but Bakugo felt particularly important to keep safe, for some reason. He raised his shaking hands to ask Yamada about the blond when the door slid open and Aizawa stepped in again.

“Is everything okay?” Yamada asked, before Shouto could even form the question in his mind.

Aizawa spared a quick glance at Shouto, seeming to contemplate something before he finally answered, attention still directed toward the younger boy. “Your friends want to see you.”

They know?

“One of them found out and told the others,” Aizawa half-lied. “They were planning to come in tomorrow. I can try to keep them away but knowing them… knowing your whole class really… nobody will rest until they’ve seen you.”

Shouto frowned. He didn’t want to see anyone in this state, but he knew Aizawa was right. He and the rest of his class weren’t known for their well-behaved attitude. Okay, he gave in, I’ll see them.

“I won’t let them stay long,” he reassured the boy, patting next to Shouto’s foot on the bed. He still wasn’t certain where the boy felt pain, but he imagined everywhere.

When Shouto began to sink into sleep again, Aizawa addressed Yamada once more, signing to make sure the boy didn’t catch snippets of the conversation.

Did you see the news? Todoroki-kun’s siblings did an interview. Now everyone knows.

Yamada barely held in his shock. It’s not just his classmates, then?

They told the world about his situation, and implicated Endeavor. This was already going to be hard enough without his father knowing what we knew, but now… I worry they’re going to try to send him back to that home.

You won’t let them, Shouta, I know you won’t. You love these kids too much.

Aizawa couldn’t even pretend to deny that statement. When he was certain Shouto was finally asleep, he turned his attention back to the stacks of paperwork, hoping to get through enough to grant himself at least temporary custody over the boy before his release.

~*~

The sound of his father just outside Shouto’s room is what woke him from his slumber this time, weaned off enough medication that it wasn’t forcing him out of the conscious world. As with any time he awoke to the angry stomps of the flame hero, Shouto physically startled, his body shooting up to sit despite the stabbing sensation it sent through his abdomen. He had to prepare to fight at any moment, especially with Endeavor as angry as he sounded.

The frantic beating of his heart was made audible for the entire room thanks to the heart monitor, the beeping reminding Shouto that he was, for now, safe in the hospital. His father wouldn’t force him to fight here, especially when Aizawa and Yamada were still in the room.

Just as his heartrate settled, the door slid open, Endeavor forcing his way past a nurse and into the room. From what Shouto could gather underneath his panic, the nurse was trying to keep him out of the room, not that she had any chance of success against the number one hero.

“What the hell,” Endeavor scowls at Aizawa and Yamada, making no notice of his son. “First you refuse to let me see my son and now you have his siblings trying to accuse me of abuse?”

“A pleasure to see you as well, Endeavor,” Yamada greets him with forced enthusiasm while Aizawa tends to the child in the bed. “I can assure you we had nothing to do with what Todoroki-kun’s siblings did.”

“They left here earlier this afternoon,” Aizawa explained.

Shouto looked over just enough to see the darkened sky beyond the window, busy lights littered throughout the city. It was snowing, he noticed, and he could vaguely remember something about Christmas? Or was that weeks ago? He had no sense of time in this hospital room, especially with all the medications he was on. Not that Christmas ever meant much to him, anyway. But he had been hoping to see his mother.

Endeavor snorted with disdain; his attention switched to his kid, not seeming to pay any mind to his sudden consciousness. “His siblings always had such incredible notions in their heads. Must have been their mother’s influence.”

As if on cue, the door opened again, the two older siblings, as well as Yagi and Kayama, entering the room. Shouto felt overwhelmed but didn’t say anything. Why were there so many people here?

“Endeavor,” Natsuo crossed his arms and glared at the man. Aizawa wondered if it was Endeavor’s choice to be called by his hero name at home, or if the others gave that to him.

“And what were you trying to gain with that stunt you pulled?” he asked in lieu of a greeting. “Do you realize the mess you’ve left for me now?”

“Yeah? And what about the mess you left for Shouto? Have you even noticed what he’s had to deal with in the last week? He’s been unconscious here because of you and-”

“Stop,” Aizawa commands from next to Shouto’s bedside, and for the first time the others look up to see the half-and-half boy awake. “He doesn’t need you arguing right now.”

“Shouto,” Fuyumi steps toward the bed nervously. “You’re awake.”

He doesn’t want to talk, not with all the pain in his throat, so instead Shouto signs to Aizawa and allows the man to translate. His father never bothered having his other children learn sign language, and the hero himself only knew enough for tactical purposes. Shouto’s tutor gave him extra lessons when he was younger.

“He wants to know what’s going on,” Aizawa explains, following loosely strung together signs. “He’s asking what happened.”

Dark eyes landed on the three members of Shouto’s family, waiting expectantly. Yagi and Kayama made their way to the side of the room that Yamada and Aizawa were in, giving the family what space they could. “I’ll tell him if you won’t,” Aizawa threatens.

“Shouto, it was for your own good,” Fuyumi reassures him, not giving him any actual knowledge. “Natsu and I just wanted to help and-”

“Help?” Endeavor shouted. “What part of you thinks your ridiculous act was helping anybody? Now I have to deal with the media trying to find out if any of your lies-”

“They aren’t lies!” Natsuo shouts, and soon the room devolves into the three arguing, only coming to an end when Yamada shouts at them, just below the level he would need to activate his quirk.

“You’re not helping Todoroki-kun like this,” Yamada gestures to the kid. “If you’re going to argue you should leave.”

“Your siblings seem to think it would be fun to go on Hero News Japan and tell everyone that I had something to do with you ending up in the hospital,” Endeavor finally answered Shouto. “Not to mention the other accusations the dropped. So now I have to deal with the consequences of their foolish behavior.”

“Really, Endeavor? You’re worried about the consequences you have to face, when we all know for a fact you’re the reason Shouto is here?”

“I suggest you stop with these baseless lies, Natsuo. If you weren’t family-”

“Yeah, like you ever cared about family.”

“Leave,” Aizawa demands, pointing to the door. The others want to protest, until they see Shouto in the bed, hands furiously repeating the same gesture. “He wants you to leave.”

Endeavor scoffs but turns anyway. “You do best not to attempt to create any new scandals right now.”

The two siblings turn their attention to their brother, only to see him still making the same gestures. “He wants you to leave, too,” Aizawa tells them, and only then do Shouto’s hands fall relaxed against the bed.

“But, Shou, you can’t really mean for us to leave. We’re your siblings and we love you and we need to stick together.” Natsuo stares at his brother, but nothing changes, Shouto looking away as much as he can. “This is ridiculous, we’re not the reason you’re here.”

“’Who did you tell’?” Aizawa translates for Shouto, giving a pointed look to Fuyumi and Natsuo who, only now, seem to realize the consequences their actions had on Shouto.

“It’s not that we wanted everyone to know, but dad was saying a lot of things and we just wanted to help,” Fuyumi tells him, nervously playing with her hands.

“’Who did you tell’?” Aizawa repeats again for Shouto, and finally Fuyumi gives him a direct answer, and Aizawa translates the boy’s last question. “’So now everyone knows’?”

“Look, Shou, it’s not that we wanted to tell everyone, but the way Endeavor treats you… it isn’t right, and you know it.” This time, however, Aizawa doesn’t need to translate what Shouto signs, since the other two have learned it by now with how much he was saying it. “You’re being childish,” Natsuo accuses him, but the two leave either way, allowing Shouto to be alone with his four teachers.

“This is certainly a Christmas miracle,” Kayama nods, directing her attention to her student.

“How has he been?” Yagi asks, skeletal form slumping into a chair, carrying the weight of the day on him.

“Get some rest,” Aizawa offers Shouto, before turning to the other teachers to explain what the doctor told them earlier. And Shouto is relieved when he finds himself drifting off once more as Aizawa talks, his words lulling Shouto into sleep. Shouto is looking forward to being done with this holiday, since it’s brought him nothing but pain and confusion.

Chapter Text

When Yagi learned that the students were coming to visit Shouto, he instantly reached out to Midoriya to ask his pupil to meet him at the hospital early. The boy, as always, enthusiastically agreed, and now he was sitting in the private room, but at least this time the person he was waiting for was alive and well (to his best knowledge, he had to admit it was his successor, anything could happen).

Ten seconds after the clock indicated it was Midoriya’s arrival time, he sprinted through the door, out of breath having clearly run here. “S-sorry I’m late, All Might!” he exclaimed. “Yaomomo was working on the card for Todoroki-kun, and I had to stop by and sign it and then everyone-”

“It’s okay, Young Midoriya. I appreciate you coming.” Yagi gestured to the seat across the table from him, which Midoriya quickly sat in. “How are you handling everything?”

Midoriya’s eyes tracked around the room as Yagi lazily gestured around at nothing in particular. When he settled his emerald orbs back onto his mentor, he noticed how downcast the man looked, more than normal since adopting the skeletal form. Something was weighing on him, something heavier than just the retirement from hero work. “All Might… how are you handling everything?”

Oversized thumbs twirled around each other, as the rest of his fingers clasped together. Yagi sighed loudly, trying to think of any way to avoid the honest answer to the question, to not have to admit to Midoriya why he called the boy in early. But like with anything painful, he knew the right answer was to just come out with it.

“Young Midoriya,” Yagi began, scratching the back of his neck, “I have to apologize to you, for not being a proper teacher. After everything, I think we both know it’s best if I place your training in another hero’s hands, one more capable and attuned to the struggles of children your age.”

“Wh-what are you saying, All Might?” Midoriya’s voice came out higher than normal, choking back nervous tears. “What’s going on?”

“I will be retiring from UA, and as such, I will no longer be your mentor. You’ve made me so proud, Young Midoriya, and I can’t imagine anyone else bearing the honor of One for All and-”

“All Might!” Midoriya exclaims, interrupting his hero without a second thought. “You’re talking crazy right now! Why would you retire from UA? They aren’t- they aren’t making you right? Since you’re not a hero anymore?”

Yagi shook his head, placing a hand on Midoriya’s shoulder. “It’s my decision. After… recent events have come to light, I learned I’m no longer the proper instructor for you kids.”

“Why would you say that?” The tears began to fall freely. He scrubbed his face with the back of his hand, but his voice never sounded sad- Yagi could hear the anger behind the words. “What would make you think you can’t teach us? After everything you’ve been through- after everything you’ve done for us, you can’t seriously think anybody wants you to quit!”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but unfortunately, I’ve failed as a hero, and I cannot expect you all to excuse this.”

“Is this about Todoroki-kun?” Midoriya lowered his eyes suspiciously at his mentor, and Yagi offered him a solemn nod. “He doesn’t… He wouldn’t blame you, All Might. I know it. Todoroki-kun is… he’s a kind person. He would never blame you for what happened.”

“Young Midoriya, I appreciate what you’re saying, but that doesn’t change the fact I allowed this to go unnoticed- as a teacher and as a hero, I’ve failed Young Todoroki.” Blue eyes gazed down to his lap, and never once had Midoriya seen such a sullen look on his hero. Gone was the usual smile that graced All Might, and even in recent months with his sunken face he still never managed to look so defeated.

Midoriya shook his head aggressively, green curls bouncing to emphasize his point. “That’s not fair, All Might! You can’t say it’s your fault! Todoroki-kun… he didn’t want anyone to know.” He looked away, shame casting over his features before he continued. “Todoroki-kun… he told me some things. At the… at the sports festival. He didn’t… I thought… I didn’t realize that his dad… took it that far. He told me that… that his mom is why he got his scar and that his father wanted him… created him to surpass you, All Might. But he… he never blamed you, not really. He looked up to you a lot, I think.”

Yagi nodded, taking in everything the boy said to him, letting the words run through his head several times before he settled on an answer. “He looked up to me?”

Midoriya nodded. “I think you’re his favorite hero,” the boy explained. “He told me once that he and his mom used to watch you on the news, when his dad was away.”

“His mom is how he got that scar, then? They didn’t talk about it on the news broadcast.” He rested his chin in a large hand, deep in thought about the situation. “What happened?”

“I… don’t know if Todoroki-kun would want me to tell you. I probably shouldn’t have told you everything I did already. B-but he doesn’t blame his mom! He’s been seeing her more and they seem… he seems really happy about getting to talk to her again.” Midoriya waved his hands frantically, hoping to play off everything he said. “Really, just… I don’t think Todoroki-kun blames you, All Might. You can ask him, though!”

Yagi stood slowly, ruffling the curls on Midoriya’s head. “Thank you, Young Midoriya. I appreciate your reassurance and optimism at a time like this. I will hold off submitting my resignation to Nezu until I talk to Young Todoroki. You’ll make a fine hero one day. Why don’t you wait here for your friends, I’ll go talk to the boy before you all visit.”

“S-sure! Thanks All Might,” Midoriya sounded overjoyed, to hear the enthusiasm in his mentor’s voice, almost as much as he was to know he wasn’t losing the man from his life. He couldn’t imagine what UA would be like without Yagi as their teacher.

Yagi wandered down the hall, peeking into the room before entering. Aizawa spared him a quick glance from Shouto’s bedside, but otherwise didn’t make much of a move to acknowledge the hero. Shouto, feeling well enough to sit up in the bed, looked over toward his teacher, blinking slowly as he pushed himself to recognize the man. “All… Might?” he murmured underneath the oxygen mask. “Why are… you… here?”

“Don’t try to talk so much, Todoroki-kun,” Aizawa reminded him gently, still not looking up from the stacks of papers. Yagi could tell he was trying to get as much done as possible before they risked Shouto leaving the hospital. “Hizashi and I can translate for you if you need.”

Giving his husband a chance to focus on paperwork, Yamada looked up from his seat, signing to Shouto that he was happy to help. He spoke out loud each word Shouto signed. “He said ‘why is All Might here?’”

Blue and grey eyes stared at Yagi, but Yamada kept his focus on Shouto’s hands. “I wanted to talk to you, Young Todoroki. If that’s alright?”

“He said ‘of course, All Might.’”

Yagi clears his throat, settling into a chair next to Shouto’s bed, keeping his focus on his student, trying not to look over every time Yamada translated for him. “Young Todoroki I owe you an apology.”

Shouto’s head tilts to the side, eyes widening like a cat’s. He blinks a few times, slowly, before he manages to make any words with his hands.

“’Why are you sorry, All Might?’” Yamada had to resist the urge to add his own commentary, knowing now was not the time for him to begin questioning the other teacher as well.

“I failed you,” Yagi answers plainly, confusion only growing on Shouto’s face. “I wasn’t there for you- as your hero or as your teacher. You were suffering and I didn’t do anything to stop it. I’m so sorry, Young Todoroki, and I don’t expect you to forgive me but-”

“’It’s okay,’” Yamada interrupts the other as he starts to translate Shouto’s shaky sign language. “’It’s not your fault. You protected me before. You’re a real hero, All Might.’”

“Young Todoroki…” Yagi’s voice falls quiet, and it’s Aizawa who interrupts him next time.

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened,” the teacher chided, still not looking up from his paperwork. “If Todoroki-kun doesn’t blame you then we should focus on what we can do to help him. Dwelling on it isn’t going to fix the situation.”

“Shouto…” Yamada whispers, causing Aizawa to look up, and Yagi gives the man his attention.

“What did he say?” Yagi asks, and when Yamada doesn’t respond, Shouto repeats his sign, causing Aizawa to shift uncomfortably as well, but the raven-haired teacher finally translates.

“He wants to know what’s going to happen now.”

The room grows heavy with silence, which only increases Shouto’s frustration. His arms cross unsteadily in front of his chest, but none of the men meet his eye to see his glare. Sure, he’s still hazy and can barely keep track of what’s going on, but he deserves to know if it concerns him, he likes to think.

“I’ll be honest, kid,” Aizawa finally answers, seeming to pick up on Shouto’s feelings. “We don’t know what’s going to happen. For now we need to keep you safe, until we have more information on what happened. I’ve taken temporary guardianship of you while you’re at the hospital, and Hizashi and I are working on a more long-term plan when you’re released.”

Long-term? Shouto signs, eyes empty with confusion.

“Once you’re out the hospital, Shouta and I were hoping you would live with us, little listener. At least, until we know if you can go home or not.” Yamada spoke carefully, as if any of the words he said would shatter the boy, even without using his quirk.

Shouto finds himself unable to answer, staring down at the bedsheets. The room remains quiet until a gentle knock sounds at the door, and Yagi stands to let in the guests- Shouto’s classmates. “I’ll give you some space,” Yagi offers, and Yamada agrees to join him, leaving Shouto with Aizawa and the rest of class 1-A. Aizawa shoves the paperwork aside, carefully kept out of view of his nosy students, before addressing his class.

“Since you wouldn’t accept it when I told you, now you can see Todoroki-kun is alive. If you want to stay, there are a few rules. Don’t all of you talk at once and overwhelm him, you leave when he or I say it’s time to leave, and if I catch one of you misbehaving I will work every single one of you running laps around UA until Nezu forces me to stop.” Aizawa lowers his eyes with his threat, but the students nod quietly in agreement.

Yaoyorozu is the first to step forward, encouraged by the other classmates. She holds out a card to him, which Shouto takes, fingers tracing along the written words. “We got you a card, Todoroki-kun,” she supplies, watching empty eyes try to take in the contents of the card, suddenly worrying she overstepped. “I hope it’s okay- we all signed it! I guess it really isn’t much, I’m sorry if-”

“He can’t read,” Aizawa interrupts her, before one of his top students can continue down her path of self-doubt. “I’m sure he appreciates the gesture.”

Shouto nods slowly in agreement, eyes still focused on the multicolored scribbles all over the card; he can’t tell who wrote what at this point, but he’s sure he could if his brain weren’t so foggy.

“You can’t read?” Kaminari pipes up from the group, voice excitable. “I wasn’t even able to tell with your test scores, dude! If you want, I’m sure I can teach you how.”

“He’s talking about the brain injury, dumbass,” Bakugo snaps at Kaminari, rolling his eyes. “He could read before that.”

“Oh,” Kaminari laughs, scratching the back of his neck. “That makes more sense.”

“At least you won’t be last in our class, even if you can’t read,” Bakugo tells Shouto, shooting a mocking look to Kaminari.

“Come on, man, don’t be like that!” Kaminari whines.

“Super not manly,” Kirishima shakes his head. “Kaminari tries his best.”

Just as Aizawa is about to tell his class to calm down and control themselves, a scratchy noise catches everyone’s attention. Shouto sits in the bed, bent as much as his tender abdomen will allow, an almost-smile on his face. The damage to his throat still prevents the sound from being clear, but they realize that he’s laughing, the first emotion besides frustration he’s shown since he woke up.

The class relaxes at this, falling into a steady rhythm of catching Shouto up on their breaks, talking even between themselves on what they did for Christmas, though any talk of the news broadcast is quickly shut down by a glare from Aizawa. Bakugo hangs back from the rest of them, but his eyes never leave Shouto, as if he’s worried the boy will fall into a coma again if he isn’t watching.

“Do you know when you get to go home?” Midoriya asks, and Shouto shakes his head.

“When you’re back at the dorms with us, we have to have a sleepover!” Hagakure cheers, frilly dress bouncing in the air with her excitement.

“Doesn’t being in the dorms count as a sleepover,” Ojiro comments.

Ashido laughs at that. “Like a real sleepover,” she cheers. “All of us in the common room, staying up and watching movies all night.”

“We’re hero students,” Iida reminds her strictly, right arm chopping the air at the declaration. “We can’t stay up watching movies all night when we have class.”

“Then we’ll do it on a Saturday night,” Uraraka supplies, which does enough to calm Iida’s concerns for the moment. “What do you say, Todoroki-kun?”

Aizawa’s face drops when he sees what Shouto signs, but he translates dutifully, nonetheless. “He says ‘I’ve never had a sleepover before’.”

“Then it’s settled, we’re doing this. Class 1-A sleepover mission commence!”

He lets his students continue to plan the sleepover, seeing the excited twinkle in Shouto’s eyes. For not the first time since the mess started, Aizawa felt a protective instinct over the boy, and seeing him excited for a completely unauthorized sleepover was enough for Aizawa to turn off teacher-mode, at least for now.

They’re approaching an hour into the visit, and Shouto’s clearly starting to run out of energy to sit through the visit. Just before Aizawa can say something, however, one of his students speaks up instead.

“Is it true that your dad did this to you?”

Silence falls over the class, but each one of them turns to look at Satou, who at the very least has the mindfulness to look uncomfortable at his own question.

“No fucking tact,” Bakugo scoffs from his position against the wall, but the other students quickly come to his aid.

“We all were wondering, kero,” Asui mutters, looking at the ground. “You’re our friend, Todoroki-kun.”

“If it was your dad,” Sero looks away from everyone else, “we just want to help you out, man.”

Midoriya speaks up next. “It’s true, Todoroki-kun! None of us are going to think any differently of you if your dad did do this.”

Shouto shifts uncomfortably, suddenly feeling on display in front of his friends. He doesn’t let Aizawa answer for him, however, signing to his temporary guardian what he wants to say to his friends.

It was a villain attack, Shouto claims. My father is a good hero, he would never hurt me like this.

Aizawa tells the rest of them what he said, but he can’t help feeling that this is a well-practiced response for the boy. How many hospital visits has he had to explain away before?

“Are you sure?” Kirishima offers him an out. “Your siblings were pretty convinced it was Endeavor when they were on the news.”

It was a villain attack, he repeats. My siblings have always blamed my father for things like this. Please ignore them.

His stomach grows heavier with each word he has to translate, but Aizawa’s not going to talk over the boy, not when he’s his only hope of talking to the others right now. “I think it’s time to leave,” Aizawa tells his class, who give him surprisingly no resistance. “Shouto needs rest, and the doctors have tests they want to run on him later.”

The class gives him a chorus of goodbyes, most trying to forget the last part of the conversation they had. A few of them promise to try and visit again during break, and Shouto quietly thanks them all for visiting. Once they’re alone, Aizawa turns his attention to Shouto.

“Did you remember what happened?” he asks dubiously.

I’m tired, Shouto responds instead. I want to sleep.

“We’re talking when you wake up,” Aizawa informs him, but Shouto can’t bother to think about that now. Right now, all he wants is sleep.

Chapter Text

Aizawa doesn’t know how many hours he’s spent staring at the endless documents, his eyes more tired than when he overuses his quirk. But while Shouto sleeps through the night, he manages to finish the entire packet of papers right before the sun begins to peek through the window. Kayama joined him after the other students left but fell asleep during the night. He’s taken the bare minimum of naps during this, not wanting to waste any time, and he’s still not able to sleep just yet. Not until he knows this is settled.

He sighs, standing up and stretching his aching back, when he hears a shuffling from Shouto’s bed. He looks over to see the boy stirring awake, eyes filled with panic for just a moment before he settles down and remembers where he is.

“Morning, kid,” Aizawa says, voice rough with forced wakefulness. Kayama stirs next to him, waking up now. “Are you in any pain?”

Shouto shakes his head, much to Aizawa’s relief. “The doctors are going to talk about a treatment plan and see what we can do to get you healed up enough to leave the hospital. Sound good?”

The boy nods but doesn’t sign anything to Aizawa. He just sighs, taking the paperwork and leaving Shouto with Kayama so he can make sure Shouto goes home with him at the end of it.

“How are you feeling, Todoroki-kun?” Kayama asks him. Shouto signs to her, but she nods in a lack of understanding. “Sorry, kid, I only know the basics from Shouta and Hizashi. That and the names of their cats.”

Cats? Shouto signs, and Kayama has to hold back her excitement when she sees his interest.

“Yeah, they have seven cats. Have you had cats before?” Shouto shakes his head, and Kayama latches on to the chance for conversation. “They’re sweet, though Furu can be very skittish. She runs away when you first see her. One time I fell asleep there and woke up and she was sleeping on me. She likes to sneak up on you like that. Let’s see, there’s also Yatsu…”

Kayama rambles about the cats to a completely enraptured Shouto, not even noticing when, forty minutes later, Aizawa enters the room again with Dr. Sasaki. Kayama allows them to do their work, feeling a sense of excitement when she realizes Shouto can remember the name of each of the cats she said, even if he can’t remember which was which.

“This is a lot of improvement,” Dr. Sasaki says with a smile. “I know it may not feel like it right now, Todoroki-san, but you’ll get there. I feel comfortable letting you go home with Aizawa-san tomorrow, as long as your labs come back normal. I’ll have a nurse come draw some blood in a bit.”

She speaks with Aizawa and Kayama a bit more, but Shouto tunes her out at this point. He’s tired of the medical jargon that he won’t remember in ten minutes, and even if he managed to remember the names of Aizawa and Yamada’s cats, he still can’t remember all of classmate’s names.

“What’s going on?” Kayama asks him after Dr. Sasaki leaves. She and Aizawa sit in chairs next to his bed, their eyes focused on him but kind. “You seem upset, Todoroki-kun.”

He watches her but signs his words for Aizawa to translate. After the initial argument of neither teacher accepting that he’s fine, he finally admits what’s going on. I’m useless. I can’t remember my classmates, I can’t read and write, what kind of hero am I supposed to be?

“Don’t take this too hard, kid,” Aizawa tells him. “You’ll get there. This is just a set back and-”

“It sucks,” Kayama says, leaning back against her chair. Aizawa shoots her a glare, but she ignores him and continues on. “You feel like you’re falling behind and that you’re going to fail, right?”

“Nemuri-” Aizawa stops when he sees Shouto nod, a look of acceptance on his face. Clearly he needs to trust his colleague with this.

“Well, maybe you will, maybe you won’t. But you’re definitely going to if you don’t do something about it, right? So how about we work on getting you home with Shouta, working with Recovery Girl, and see when we can get you back to hero studies, okay?”

Shouto spends a long moment staring at her in frustration before Kayama’s words sink in. She’s… she’s right, he knows this. There isn’t much he can do about what happened, but whining about it isn’t going to stop the future. Still, he hates it.

Fine, he signs, earning a slight smile from his teachers.

“Good job,” Kayama says. “Shouta still has more paperwork to do, but I can tell you more about Scream and Shout now, if you want? Those two came home the same day…”

~*~

The next twenty-four hours are an exhausting flurry of activity for Shouto and Aizawa both. Shouto is put through more tests, more plans written out and visits with Recovery Girl and various doctors, while Aizawa rushes around to get the paperwork sorted out and ready so that Shouto can come home with him.

They are both, however, successful, and the next morning Aizawa has Shouto in a wheelchair, Yamada carrying a large stack of discharge paperwork, a paper bag of prescriptions, and a small duffle bag of clothing and other items taken from Shouto’s dorm room.

“You ready, kid?” Aizawa asks, and Shouto nods, allowing him to push him out of the room.

It’s almost eerie, being outside of the hospital for the first time. He wears a large hat and ducks his head, keeping himself as unnoticeable as possible. It also helps to not see anything going on around him, ignoring what is most certainly news headlines scandalizing his life even further.

“Here we are,” Yamada says as he helps Shouto into the backseat of the purple minivan, the side spray painted with the words ‘Free Love’ in bright pink, wheelchair being stored in the trunk.

The inside is even more gaudy than the outside. The seat covers are bright yellow and fuzzy, Shouto enjoys running his hands over them. Several of Eri’s toys are scattered on the seats next to him, but his eyes are drawn to the soft cartoon character dangling from the rearview mirror.

“It was a gift from one of your classmates,” Aizawa grumbles as he starts the car. “Trying to force me into retirement at this point.”

“Shouta can’t say no to the gifts from his students. One time-”

“I think Shouto is tired of our talking, Hizashi. I’m sure he just wants to sleep.”

“I think it’s you who just wants to sleep,” Yamada laughs, turning back to see Shouto, as well, dozing off. “But let’s get us all home. You’ve both had a rough several days.”

The drive is quiet, Shouto dozes in and out, but it doesn’t take long before they’re home. Yamada helps him into the wheelchair again, pushing him into the house. Eri comes running up but stops short when Aizawa holds up a hand.

“Be gentle,” her dad warns, and she nods eagerly, tiptoeing in a dramatic, child-like fashion instead, until she is at the edge of his chair.

“Are you going to live with us now?” she asks gently.

“Shouto will be staying with us for now,” Aizawa explains. “He’s been through a rough week, so don’t bother him too much, okay?”

“I promise,” Eri says, stepping aside as Yamada leads Shouto to a room at the bottom floor.

“Here, you should be able to get some rest here,” he says as he helps Shouto into the bed. “Shouta needs to get some sleep, too, but I’ll be right here if you need me, okay? I have to prepare some quizzes for when you get back from break.”

He shoots Shouto a quick thumbs up, but it doesn’t take long for the boy to pass out. It takes longer, however, for Yamada to finally convince Aizawa to get some sleep.

“I’ve got him, don’t worry. Nobody will hurt him here.”

“If anything happens-”

“I promise, Shouta, you’ll be the first to know. Now go sleep, you need it more than he does.”

The rest of the afternoon goes by peacefully, Eri playing quietly with Togata and Midoriya when they come over, Yamada watching over Shouto, and Aizawa finally getting sleep.

If it could just last for more than a day, that would be great. But, true to any hero’s struggle, the peace doesn’t stay, not the next morning when Aizawa is woken up to a phone call. He ignores it, but the phone buzzes again, and he checks the caller ID this time.

Endeavor.

Chapter Text

“He won’t talk to either of us,” Natsuo grumbles as he crosses his arms. Fuyumi places a gentle hand on his shoulder and Rei offers him a sympathetic smile. They’re in Rei’s hospital room, her two elder children spending most of their time there since Shouto kicked them out of his hospital room. The siblings don’t want to go home, not with Enji there, but they also don’t have anywhere else to spend most of their time. Natsuo’s dorms are closed, and Fuyumi doesn’t want to drag anyone else into the family drama.

“I’m sure he just needs time to recover,” Rei offers. “It can’t be easy to be stuck in the hospital.”

Fuyumi jumps in quickly to cover Natsuo’s grumbled ‘you would know’ response. “I think Shouto’s mad because of… well… We were just trying to help him but…”

Rei reaches over to pat each of their hands gently. “Shouto will come around soon. Give him space, he’s a teenage boy. I’m sure he has a lot to deal with already.”

“You’re right,” Fuyumi sighs. “I just don’t understand why he’s so mad. Should we not have said anything?”

“That bastard was trying to gain sympathy, we had to say something,” Natsuo argues.

“I know, but now his teachers are involved. I wonder what UA is going to do.”

“And what about Shouto? Did either of you take the time to think of what this means for him?” The other two stop in the middle of their argument to look at their mother, who gives them a gentle yet firm look before continuing. “His school and Enji are affected by this, yes, but do you know what Shouto thinks about all of this?”

An awkward and guilty silence is answer enough.

“I guess we should have asked him first,” Natsuo admits sheepishly.

“They were his secrets to tell, I suppose.” Fuyumi wrings her hands nervously.

Rei’s voice continues to hold its gentle motherly nature. “You can’t undo what happened, but maybe if you think about what he’s feeling, what he might need right now, he’ll be more willing to talk to you?”

“He’s staying with his teachers for now. Maybe we could bring him some things to help? There wasn’t much he had around home, though. We could bring him some soba, that always was his favorite food. I don’t know if he can eat that right now, though…”

“He also liked… umm…”

The two trail off, looking around the room lost. Rei frowns: she doesn’t have much to add to this either. Most of Shouto’s letters have been focused on his studies and his training, occasionally talking about the new friends he made, but rarely did he talk about himself that much.

“Maybe his friends know something,” Rei offers, and the three have to admit that this is as far as they can go right now. “I wish I had the chance to be a real mother to him. To think of everything he’s missed out on.”

“I bet he didn’t even have a teddy bear as a child,” Natsuo grumbles, and Fuyumi’s head snaps up at that. “What?”

“We could get Shouto a teddy bear,” she says. “I’m sure it’s silly, but-”

“I think it’s perfect,” Rei tells her daughter with a smile. “If you see him, can you give him a letter from me?”

~*~

“What do you want, Endeavor?” He has to fight to keep his voice low, keep Shouto from hearing him. The kid has been through enough; there’s no reason to concern him just yet.

“The boy,” Endeavor says on the other line. “He belongs to me, and I expect you to return him.”

“He’s not an object, he doesn’t belong to anyone,” Aizawa hisses.

“You have three days, Eraser. I want my masterpiece back by then, or you’ll hear from my lawyers.”

He doesn’t even bother to say goodbye, leaving Aizawa with the harsh tone of an ended call. “Bastard,” he growls as he tucks away his phone in his pocket.

Yamada stirs away, having passed out on the couch while Aizawa was watching Shouto. “Hm? Everything okay?”

Aizawa sighs, sinking into the couch next to his husband. “Endeavor called,” he doesn’t even bother trying to mask his anger. “He’s demanding Shouto back.”

“Shouta-”

Yamada is cut off by another ring of Aizawa’s phone. Despite the temptation to throw it across the room or call one of his students over to destroy it, he looks at the caller ID first. Todoroki Fuyumi. “His sister,” he tells Yamada quickly before he answers. “Hello?”

“Eraserhead?” The voice comes through on the other line. It’s Fuyumi, he recognizes her, and she sounds nervous. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

He wouldn’t tell her if she was, he thinks. Not with their entire situation being so precarious. “What’s going on?”

“Natsu and I had a few things we wanted to drop off for Shouto. I know he probably doesn’t want to see us, but can we at least give them to you to get to him? Please?”

He wants to say no, wants to tell them to stay away from Shouto. But it’s not his choice, not really. It’s Shouto’s, and if he wants the kid to open up to him he has to trust the boy. Aizawa hasn’t taught teenagers for years to not know that.

But he’s also asleep. So, taking the gifts sounds like a good compromise to him. “You can bring them by, but he needs his rest. I’ll give them to Shouto, but if he doesn’t want anything else, you have to stop.”

“I promise,” And Aizawa can take that for now. It’s not perfect, but it’s what he has to do to help his kid.

His kid.

A year ago, Aizawa didn’t plan to have any children. He and Yamada were happy to be married, no kids, nobody waiting for them at home aside from each other. And now they have two. Eri, rescued from the yakuza, and Shouto, rescued from the number one hero.

And, of course, Aizawa has his protegee, Shinsou Hitoshi. Who, if not for the fact he already had a loving and supportive family, would have his own room in the Aizawa-Yamada house. Aizawa can never say no to these kids.

He’s thankful that Natsuo and Fuyumi don’t try to bring him into a long conversation. He tells them that he won’t let them see Shouto until the boy says he wants to see them. They respect it, and Aizawa thinks it has something to do with the fact he can make good on keeping them away. But they hand over a large bag of items, thanking him for his time, and leave.

“It’s nice of them,” Yamada comments once the door is shut.

“It would be nice if they listened to Shouto in the first place,” he mumbles bitterly. “It’s not fair to him.”

Yamada doesn’t bother arguing; there’s nothing he can say there. It isn’t fair to Shouto, and he’s bearing the brunt of his family’s argument.

“Let’s go check on him, yeah?” He offers instead. “I bet he’s tired of sleeping all day by now.”

Aizawa doesn’t even bother with a sarcastic comment, just following Yamada back to Shouto’s room. He doesn’t like being away from the boy for long. And with good timing, since Shouto is starting to stir awake. A dreamless sleep, it seems, and Aizawa is grateful. He knows the nightmares will start soon, but he wants to avoid them for now. “How are you feeling?”

Fine.

They expect that one, but they don’t press, not this time. No need to rile Shouto up, not when they won’t get anywhere with it. “The old lady is coming over tomorrow to start your recovery,” Aizawa tells him, settling at the foot of the bed. “She’ll know more after she works with you tomorrow, but the hope is we can get you walking in a couple of days. It won’t be perfect, but even a few steps is progress. I need you to remember that okay?”

A pout, and it’s cute enough that Aizawa nearly bursts out in laughter. But he restrains himself, this time at least. And Shouto nods, finally, after a long moment.

“We’ll go plus ultra, okay, little listener?” Yamada smirks, friendly and bright. For a moment it almost seems like Shouto feels the excitement, as well, but maybe he imagined that.

Plus ultra, Shouto finally signs in resigned agreement. Go beyond.

“Good job, kid,” Aizawa pats his head. “You got it right.”

It feels like he’s setting himself up for failure at this point, but Aizawa can’t help but see this as the first step toward progress they’ve been waiting on.

Chapter Text

Aizawa nearly forgets to give Shouto the bag. It’s halfway through dinner, Shouto eating small servings of miso soup with nutrition powders, when Aizawa suddenly spots the bag in the corner of the room. “Your siblings came by,” he tells Shouto, and the boy looks up at him with uncertain eyes. “They wanted to bring you some things. I told them I’ll take it for now, but it’s up to you if you want to see them, or if you want them to stop talking to you completely.”

Shouto frowns, staring down at his soup. The spoon he uses is large and awkward, designed similar to utensils a very young child would use. He doesn’t have the energy to be angry about that, not yet. He places the spoon aside, ignoring the way it clatters clumsily on the table. Aizawa promised he’ll have his coordination back eventually, Shouto just needs to be patient.

And maybe, he wonders, he can be patient with his siblings. He knows he’s mad at them, knows they did something wrong to him, even if he can’t break down what it is and how it hurt him. He also knows that they barely saw him before that, and that’s not their fault.

What did they say?

“They said it was a few things they hoped would help you feel better,” Aizawa explains. “Do you want it?”

A pause, frustration growing on his face. He is trying to think this through, but thinking is still so difficult, like he’s right there but there’s just one step missing.

“You can always wait,” Yamada offers. “If you want, Shouta and I can keep it safe for when you’re ready.”

I like that, he signs to them, relieved to have the pressure lifted. Aizawa gives him a quick pat on the head, and Shouto feels like he did something good. He doesn’t think Aizawa is happy because he answered right, but Shouto still isn’t sure what he did.

A loud slurp catches their attention, Eri finishing the last of her dinner. “Can I play with Todoroki tonight? I want to show him my crayon book.”

The two look over to Shouto, reminding themselves that he needs to be his own advocate. The boy seems curious, and after a moment nods. I’d like to see the books.

He stumbles over the last sign. His hands stutter, shake, and at first Aizawa worries he’s having a reaction to the medications, but then realization hits him. Shouto doesn’t know the sign for crayon, and worse, Aizawa thinks he doesn’t even know what a crayon is.

“Crayon,” Yamada says while signing it slowly. He and Shouto sign back and forth until Shouto is able to do the sign on his own with confidence. “They’re like sticks of wax you can use to make pictures.”

The confusion deepens, and it’s almost adorable to watch Shouto try to work out the process of wax pictures. “Well, I think we could all enjoy the crayon books tonight,” Aizawa decides, grateful that Eri has the understanding to suggest a low-pressure activity.

“You’re kind of like a crayon,” Eri tells him, only further mystifying the concept.

Aizawa wheels Shouto to the living room while Yamada and Eri clean up from dinner. “If it’s too much let me know, okay kid?” A nod. “Good. You don’t need to push yourself to color. You need rest for when the old lady comes tomorrow.”

Do you have siblings?

“Nah, only child,” Aizawa shrugs, nonchalant about it. “I wasn’t close to many people when I was younger, at least not until I started at UA. Hizashi was one of my first friends.”

I think Midoriya is my first friend. Or Aoyama? Which one is green?

“Midoriya, you had it right the first time,” Aizawa grabs a blanket from the couch, wrapping it around Shouto’s shoulders gently. “You need to tell me when you get cold; you don’t have your quirk to help with that right now.”

A nod. I like the cold.

“Yeah, I’m sure you do. But you need to be comfortable.”

Shouto doesn’t argue any more, and Yamada and Eri enter the room with a handful of books and four boxes of crayons. “Ready to color, little listener?”

Shouto nods, taking the box Eri hands him. Inside are assorted colors, and he catches on quickly to what Yamada meant.

“Do you want the ponies book, the kitties book, the hero book, or the princess book?” Eri asks, holding each of the options up as she explains them. Aizawa is about to tell her not to overwhelm Shouto with too many questions- he hasn’t recovered enough from his injury. But Shouto manages to choose, pointing to the cat themed book, and Eri hands it over happily.

“My favorite is the ponies,” she tells him, opening hers to a random page where the outline of a unicorn is. “This one is a unicorn- they have special horns that give them magical powers.”

Like a quirk?

Eri watches him, and Shouto repeats his sign for her slowly. “Quirk,” Aizawa explains, catching onto her confusion. He explains to Shouto, “she’s still learning sign language. She’s doing great for how recently she learned.”

“Oh, quirk. No, not like a quirk. Like magic. They’re different.”

Eri pulls out a pink crayon, setting to color the unicorn. Aizawa and Yamada each start in their books- Aizawa with the princess book and Yamada with the hero book. Shouto opens his, seeing a few hastily drawn pages, but finds a blank page about halfway through. It depicts two cats, a few simple flowers, and a sun. Easy enough, he thinks.

A glance around the table shows Eri’s page scribbled with pinks, purples, and blues. Yamada takes his seriously, attempting to get whatever shading and lighting he can with the crayons, and Aizawa’s simpler, but still inside the lines. Shouto looks at the colors, uncertainly, but grabs a black one to color over one of the cats.

His hands shake as he runs them over the page, and his drawing looks much closer to Eri’s than Aizawa’s. Shouto glares at it, at his hands, feeling betrayed by his own body. He may not be an artist, but he knows how to stay within lines. His handwriting is neat, compared to several of his classmates, and now he can’t even make a cat look right.

“Hey, let’s go to bed, okay?”

Shouto glances up at Aizawa, and only then does he realize he’s crying, that the others are looking at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” Eri asks Yamada, who tells her not to worry.

Aizawa takes Shouto to the bedroom, helping ease him into the bed. “You’re upset. What’s up?”

I’m fine.

“Good luck getting anyone to believe that right now. You can tell me what’s wrong or we can sit here back and forth until I make you tell me, anyway.”

Shouto sighs. I can’t color the cat.

“Yeah? You did just fine if you ask me.”

He glares at his guardian, and Aizawa sits next to Shouto on the bed, leaning against the wall. “Look, you’re going to have to accept there’s things you can’t do right now. It’s frustrating, I know, but you’re doing better than anyone else in your position would. Remember what I told you? We have to take it slow.”

I don’t want to take it slow; his hands fly with anger. I want to be normal.

“I know, kid. And you will be, soon.”

Aizawa settles in so he’s laying in the bed now, wrapping his arms around Shouto and gently pulling the boy to his chest. Shouto makes no noise as he cries, but Aizawa can feel the shaking of his body, feel the way he wets Aizawa’s shirt. But Aizawa says nothing, letting the boy get everything out.

By the time Shouto falls asleep, Aizawa finds himself drifting as well. Just tonight, he figures. He can keep the boy company for now.

~*~

Yamada wakes him up the next morning, and both turn their attention to the sleeping boy. “Shuzenji says she’s on her way,” Yamada says with a mild tone of disappointment. “We should wake him up.”

Aizawa agrees, as difficult as it is to think of disturbing the kid. “Hey, problem child, time to wake up.”

He stretches gently, sleepily, just to the edge of where he starts to feel pain. Morning?

“Yeah, it’s morning. Recovery Girl is on her way so let’s get you dressed, okay?”

Shouto nods, allowing Aizawa to move him to the wheelchair, assisting him in a quick routine to freshen up, wear clean clothes, use the bathroom. Shouto tries not to think about how weak he feels.

“You’re looking much better than when I saw you last time,” Shuzenji says as she enters the boy’s room, seeing him laying on his bed. “How is he doing, Shouta?”

“Don’t even say fine,” Aizawa tells Shouto with a threat in his voice. Not one he plans to act on, but enough to make Shouto understand that he needs to be honest. “He’s well enough to give me gray hairs.”

“You’ll find they’re not so bad when you get to be my age, boy,” Shuzenji taunts him, shaking her cane at Aizawa before focusing on Shouto. “I’m going to use my quirk on you now. When you wake up we’ll see how you’re doing, alright? I’d give you some candy, but I don’t want to upset your stomach just yet.”

With a kiss on the forehead, Shouto feels his consciousness slip, his body falling to rest despite all the sleep he had before.

“It’s madness out there,” Shuzenji says somberly, settling into a chair so she can keep an eye on her patient. “Endeavor sure has more fans than we thought before.”

“They can’t seriously be backing someone who would attack his own child,” Aizawa practically growls.

“His agency is big, well-funded. They’re claiming it’s defamation, that he’s only ever cared about his son. He’s saying his mother gave him his scar and that his siblings are the ones who put him in the hospital now. Shouta, they want to believe it; nobody wants to think the number one hero could do this to his son.” A sympathetic look flashed toward Shouto. “Let’s focus on getting him well before break ends. There’s less than two weeks left, and he’ll be safest if he can go back to the dorms at that point.”

Aizawa hates to agree, but he can’t help it. Of course, he’d rather see Shouto rest, rather see Shouto be free of the world of heroes, at least for now. But UA is the safest place, UA is the only hope they have of keeping Shouto from being sent back to his father.

Shouto sleeps for several hours, waking well into the afternoon. The light cast from the window is a grey softness, snow falling gently in the silent yard outside. He wishes he could play in the snow- he always wishes he could. But for now, he has to train.

“Did we have a good nap there?”

He glances over to see Shuzenji standing next to his bed, looking over his body in a quick assessment of injuries. Right, he doesn’t have to train. He has to…

He can’t remember what he has to do.

Aizawa stirs at the noise, opening a single eye to watch the two. “Are you ready to try walking, kid?”

Hands grip the sheets in anxiety. Yes, he wants so desperately to walk, wants to see if he can make the first steps. But at the same time… what if he can’t? What if everything they tried was for nothing?

Shuzenji helps to adjust him so that he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, feet resting on the floor. “You two give him some space,” she says gently to Yamada and Aizawa. “I’m sure there’s far too many of us in here right now.”

Shouto grips Aizawa’s wrist quickly, desperately, clinging onto the only flutter of comfort he can find here. Don’t go, he signs.

“I guess having his favorite teacher here won’t do any harm,” Shuzenji laughs lightly.

“I should still go check on Eri,” Yamada offers, giving them the privacy he can. “Good luck, little listener.”

Aizawa sits next to Shouto on the bed, supporting the weight of the boy. “Think we can do just one step?” he offers, and Shouto grasps the fabric of the black shirt, breathing slowly, tentatively. Aizawa stands slowly, leaning so that he’s not dragging Shouto with him. But he’s not surprised that the boy rises with him, anyway; Aizawa would be an idiot if he thought that Shouto was staying in bed.

“Go carefully,” Shuzenji says, staying next to them just in case. “Let Shouta help you.”

Aizawa steps forward just slightly, giving room for Shouto to move. Shouto still clutches his shirt, and Aizawa covers his hands with his own. They’re soft, he realizes with some surprise. Calloused from training, sure, but soft in his skin.

Shouto shakes, but eventually his bare foot moves forward, followed by the other. He nearly falls into Aizawa, but he stays straight up, taking two more steps with excited surprise.

“Good job, kid,” Aizawa says, patting his head. “See, you’ll be fine. Baby steps, okay?”

Baby steps, he signs. Plus Ultra.