Chapter Text
Shouto had hidden in his room for the better part of the day. After his unfortunate encounter with Bakugou, he figured it was best for everyone if he just stayed out of sight. It was more comfortable wallowing in his own pity when he was on his own anyway. His isolation was disrupted, however, by a sharp knock on the door. Shouto snapped his head toward the noise, then tentatively answered the door, unsure of who would want to see him.
Aizawa’s tired face stared at him from his doorway. Shouto stared back, too shocked to greet him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected his teacher to want to talk to him about everything, but expectations and reality are often quite different from each other. Shouto’s own stoniness was reflected back at him from his teacher, and for a moment he understood why his classmates thought he was intimidating. He didn’t give anything away.
Aizawa broke the long silence. “Can I come in?”
Shouto didn’t move. “Are you here about this morning?”
His teacher finally let his mask crack the tiniest amount. “Not really.”
And Shouto understood the implications revealed in the cracks that betrayed the older man. “Oh.”
He stepped away from the door and sat down on his futon. The click of the door closing signaled that Aizawa had followed him. His teacher sat at Shouto’s desk and after examining the burned pile of sheets and scorch marks on the floor, stared down at Shouto, who was very aware of the power imbalance in their seated positions. The back of his mind raced with strategies- what was the best way to flee the room, if his teacher lunged how would he escape. Shouto shook his head slightly, willing the train of thought Endeavor burned into him his whole life to leave.
Aizawa looked down at his student, who despite being only a couple centimeters shorter than himself, looked so small perched on the futon. The boy looked momentarily lost in thought, but his eye contact never wavered.
Shouto waited for his teacher to speak. Aizawa opened his mouth once, then caught himself, and for a moment, if Shouto had been better at reading emotions he would have recognized the absolute sadness that gripped his teacher’s face. But then Aizawa was opening his mouth again and words were tumbling out.
“I delayed this until you came back to UA, but this is an inevitable conversation.”
Shouto tried to control his breathing. He sat like a statue. His teacher would not see weakness. “I guess you watched Tou- Dabi’s video then.”
“Yes, and I’m sure you are aware of the concerning topics brought to light by your brother.”
Shouto finally dropped his gaze from his teacher. His eyes felt prickly. Oh, tears were forming.
“I haven’t watched it actually.” I couldn’t. “But my sib- my other siblings informed me that my name may have been brought up.”
Aizawa watched him carefully, as if he was trying to look through Shouto and pry into his past. Then he hung his head. “Yes. Specifically, your name and the word abuse were used in the same sentence.”
It should’ve surprised Shouto to see his normally stoic teacher look so defeated, but at the moment all of Shouto’s focus was directed towards not lighting himself on fire. Shouto had never said the word aloud. Sure, he knew that was what to call what happened to him. He knew Endeavor deserved the title of abuser, but hearing it out loud threatened to shut him down. When he had spoken to Midoriya, he gave only the most minimal of context. He danced around the larger issues and chose his words carefully. Fuyumi with all of her pretending never said the word abuse. Natsuo with all of his frustration never actually dared to use the word either. And Shouto preferred not to think about any of it at all.
But Touya was the bravest of them. He put words to their situation.
Shouto paused. That’s right, it was their situation. A collective. It shouldn’t have been Touya’s personal decision to make claims against Endeavor. They should’ve done it as a family. Not publicly.
Shouto seethed, and it took every ounce of self control to not smash his fist into the floor. Touya wasn’t being brave. He was being selfish.
Aizawa could tell his student’s thoughts were racing even though he kept his face painfully still. He waited for Shouto to look at him as a sign to continue.
Shouto finally did. He looked at his teacher, and Aizawa practically flinched out of instinct. Shouto’s eyes shone with an unfamiliar malice. He looked dangerous, and Aizawa could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up in response.
“I’m not talking about this.” Shouto spat out through gritted teeth. “Touya said what he wanted to say… I don’t have anything I want to say.”
Aizawa tried rerouting the conversation. He had always considered Todoroki level headed, so he assumed the kid would succumb to the situation and willingly open up. Aizawa learned the hard way that would not be the case. He could hardly control the shudder that ran down his spine. He had been shocked but not entirely surprised when he heard Dabi’s allegations about Endeavor, but perhaps he was underestimating exactly what went on in the Todoroki household.
Aizawa changed subjects. “Then let’s talk about this morning. With Bakugou.”
“I scared him.” Shouto responded coldly, and Aizawa sensed the edge his voice held.
“How does that make you feel?”
Shouto drew his mouth into a tight line. He didn’t answer.
“Shouto…” Aizawa tried. “I need your cooperation to help you.”
Shouto stood suddenly. “Thank you sensei, but I’m not asking for your help. I’ve never asked for help and I’m not about to start now.” He crossed the room and opened the door. “I would appreciate it if you left.”
Reluctantly, Aizawa rose from his seat and exited the bedroom. He turned to look back at the boy. Shouto’s hands were trembling, but he kept his gaze steady. Aizawa just sighed. “I’m not giving up on you Todoroki. Everyone needs help now and again. I suspect you’ve needed help for a long time. I’m sorry I didn’t offer it sooner.”
Shouto started to close the door, but Aizawa stopped it with his foot. “This conversation is going to be continued, Shouto.”
Shouto blinked in surprise when his teacher used his given name. Aizawa’s face looked so kind, but Shouto couldn’t do it. He couldn’t tell his teacher what he felt, because on principle he didn’t feel anything. He closed the door the rest of the way.
Aizawa walked slowly down the hallway, feeling like he was losing another battle. Before he could reach the elevator he heard a loud thud, followed by a crash, and finally an exclamatory curse all of which came from Todoroki’s room. He half turned, intending to check on his student, but some unseen force tugged him back to the elevator.
--
Shouto stared at the ugly dent in his wall. He knew he had a temper. As collected and cool-headed as he normally was, Shouto had moments where he lost control. Where frustration got the better of him. Hell, he was surprised his classmates weren’t more wary of his temper seeing as how a single interaction with Endeavor had caused him to turn Sero into a popsicle on broadcast television. But, he supposed, since Bakugou was as loud and brash as he was, everything else feels tame in comparison.
Bakugou. Shouto folded in on himself. He couldn’t be mad at him. In fact, Shouto should’ve better prepared himself for the worst. He let his guard down. Still, it didn’t feel great to know how easy it would be for others to compare him to Touya. Blood was blood, strong but invisible. But appearance… everyone has prejudices, it is programmed into us all as a primal method of survival. Shouto wanted to be a hero who put people at ease, now people would cross the street when they saw him coming.
Shouto glanced back at the hole in his wall. He lashed out just like Endeavor always did. He remembered the wrecked state of the house he had come back to after All Might retired. That was exactly what he was doing, albeit on a smaller scale. Part of his stoicism was practiced. It was drilled into him as a kid and became a method of survival. But the other part was a further rejection of Endeavor. He had convinced himself that the more he could repress the less he was like his father.
Now he glared at the wall in disgust. He looked like Touya, he was acting like Endeavor… It was like he was losing all semblance of agency. The sense of self Shouto was working on gaining post-sports festival felt like it was slipping out of his grasp. The louder Todorokis were fighting over him, threatening to drag little Shouto under some invisible current and leave him to drown.
Shouto’s self deprecation was interrupted by a loud gurgle. He groaned clutching his stomach. It was already approaching the end of the evening and Shouto hadn’t eaten anything all day. He’d been too nervous to go down to the kitchen, and had only left his room to sneak off to the communal bathroom a handful of times.
As Shouto’s stomach rumbled again, he made the executive decision that he needed to eat. He worked his way to the elevator stealthily, crossing his fingers that he wouldn’t see anybody.
Of course Shouto was the unluckiest bastard to ever live.
As he exited the elevator he found half of his class eating and talking. He sighed to himself and squared his shoulders. Surprisingly, the teens left him well enough alone. Shouto refused to make eye contact with anybody and wordlessly picked out his food as quickly as he could.
He did, however, notice Bakugou stiffening when he spotted him, before returning to his conversation with Kirishima.
As soon as he gathered his things, Shouto made a mad dash back in the direction of his room. Well, maybe it was more like a motivated walk, but his mind was screaming at him to turn tail and run.
Back in the safety of his dorm, Shouto forced down his dinner. Despite his stomach screaming at him, everything felt strange in his mouth and his jaw hurt when he tried to chew. Before he could even finish the food in front of him he was nodding off, his head bobbing unrhythmically.
Shouto dragged himself to his still sheet-less futon and plopped down on it. Within seconds he was out, his body trying to make up for the previously sleepless night.