Archive of Our Own

Shouto doesn't vomit on anyone (including himself) during his first day of high school, which he would consider a victory.

The U.A. entrance ceremony goes by in a blur. The principal (is he a mouse?) gives his opening remarks, then introduces each first-year class to their new homeroom teacher. Class 1-A's homeroom teacher, Aizawa Shouta, looks like he's 80% asleep and 20% nodding off. One of the third-year students, a muscled blond who seems way too happy to be in school, rattles off his own welcoming speech before getting cut off due to time constraints. 

The next part of the ceremony makes Shouto's stomach lurch. Nedzu announces, "To conclude today's festivities, first-year student Yaoyorozu Momo will be giving a warm, brief, welcome to the incoming students. And we'd like the rest of this year’s recommended Hero Course students to join her on stage."

Shouto doesn't remember seeing this item on the programming. He tries to step forward, but his knees are locked. Yaoyorozu is already a meter ahead of him. When she doesn't hear his footsteps, she glances over her shoulder with an inquiring look that turns reassuring. "It's okay, I'm nervous too," she whispers. 

Of course she's nervous; she's the one who has to give the speech. To avoid causing a scene, Shouto shuffles after Yaoyorozu's bouncy ponytail and gets into position, ten steps to the left of the podium. He feels like a zoo animal on display, standing in front of everyone like this. Seeing the reactions on his new classmates' faces - their looks of admiration and jealousy - makes him feel sick.

He involuntarily spots Endeavor in the audience. His old man is close to the back row, but Shouto feels the blazing heat of his flames right behind him. Even across the length of the auditorium, Shouto can see the vicious, triumphant grin on his face. 

His entire life has been leading up to this moment. And in an instant, Shouto decides that he hates this. He hates being moved along this heroic conveyor belt that his old man built for him, like some kind of mass-assembled weapon. He doesn't want this; he's never wanted this; no one's ever asked him what he actually wants.

But the conveyor belt is still in motion. Yaoyorozu's speech comes to an end, and Shouto robotically heads back to his place in line.

"Today you'll engage in eight physical tests to measure your potential. Whoever comes in last place has none and will be expelled immediately."

This is it. This is Shouto's chance. This is his way out of Endeavor's grand master plan for his life.

Funnily enough, Aizawa can stop people's quirks, but he can't force Shouto to start using his. Shouto waltzes through each fitness test like it's just another middle school gym class. Most of the other students use their quirks for two or three tests, and a few manage to shoehorn their quirk into each new challenge. By the halfway point, the only kid who hasn't shown off his quirk is the one with the green hair. Surely he can't be quirkless- his quirk must be either extremely niche or extremely dangerous. Or both, Shouto supposes.

The ball throw confirms Shouto's latter suspicion: Aizawa erases his classmate's quirk on the first try, then he breaks his finger on the second. Shouto throws his two attempts, not weak enough to be embarrassing but not strong enough to be considered a good-faith effort. Now that the last kid's finally revealed his quirk, Shouto is probably a shoo-in for expulsion.

Or maybe not. The other frontrunner for dead last starts to flag after the fifth test. That broken finger must be pretty distracting. Shouto unapologetically half-asses the last three tests, to make sure he's safely at the bottom of the ranking.

After the last few stragglers come back from the long distance run, Aizawa claps to get everyone's attention. "Well, that's it. I'll pull up the results. Remember, last place gets expelled."

Aizawa clicks a metallic device in his hand, and the final scores are displayed for the entire class. Rank #19 practically falls to his knees with relief, still clutching his broken finger. Some of the other students sneak worried glances at Shouto, but he keeps his head high and basks in his success.

He's done it. He's earned himself a resounding last place.

"Surprise surprise, the recommended students landed in first and dead last." Aizawa gives him a piercing look. "Got anything to say for yourself?"

Shouto shrugs. "I tried. I guess I'm just not cut out for this. Does that mean I'm expelled now?"

Aizawa squints at him, mouth pressed in a flat line. "I was lying about the expulsion. It was a rational deception to make sure you gave it your all in the tests."

After a moment of dead silence, there's a flurry of various reactions. Amidst his classmates' disbelief and indignation, Shouto feels leaden with disappointment.

"That's all for today. Pick up a syllabus in the classroom and read it over before tomorrow morning." Aizawa hands the green-haired kid some kind of note. "Midoriya. Take this and have the old lady fix you up in the nurse's office. Things are gonna be tougher tomorrow when your actual training begins."

Then Aizawa points straight at him. "Todoroki- see me after class."

Shouta wasn't expecting to host detention on the first day of the school year. 

"Can you explain why you didn't participate in today's quirk apprehension test?"

Todoroki's answer: "Conscientious objection. I'm a pacifist. Hero work goes against my personal beliefs." 

Shouta gives him a flat look. "This is high school, not a military draft."

"I'm still refusing to participate in any combat or quirk-based training. I'll accept any failing grades that come with that. And I'll do the rest of my classwork, and I'll try not to disrupt the rest of your teaching. I just wanted to give you a heads up."

"You can't just skip class and do absolutely nothing." Shouta pauses, then makes up a punishment on the spot- obviously, this situation with a Hero Course student is unprecedented. 

"You still have to go to hero training, and participate in any peaceful activities, if this is really in the name of non-violence. If that's not an option, I'm expecting a five-page essay for every lesson you skip, on whatever you were supposed to learn from the in-class exercises."

Shouta expects the threat of that much homework to make Todoroki back off. But to his chagrin, Todoroki immediately nods and says, "Understood. I'll get started on the essay for today's class."

The kid goes back to his desk and pulls out several sheets of loose-leaf paper. Shouta resists pulling the fire alarm and fleeing the building.

Five pages a day, twenty-five pages a week - there's no way he's going to read all of that.

As Todoroki slides over three sheets of painstakingly neat handwriting, Shouta asks him one last question. "You could've tried harder today; you were barely breaking a sweat. Did you slack off during the tests so that Midoriya would pass?"

Todoroki rubs the fingertips of one hand together, where graphite has smudged into the ridges of his fingerprints. "He wants to be a hero way more than I do. So if we really had been fighting for the last spot in the class, he would have deserved it."

That's not how it works at U.A., or on the pro hero scene. But there'll be plenty of time to crush this kid's idealism. Shouta passes Todoroki a syllabus, then tells him to get lost. 

Toshinori intercepts Aizawa in the teacher's lounge. 

"Aizawa, you liar!"

Aizawa drinks his coffee, unfazed, straight from the carafe of the drip-coffee machine. "All Might. So you were watching? Seems like you've got too much time on your hands."

"A 'rational deception,' hm? April Fools was last week, and you're not exactly known for joking around. You expelled a whole class of first-years last spring, so you have no issue with cutting students you deem unworthy. Why keep young Todoroki in your class, when he never even tried to use his quirk?"

"The footage from the recommended students' entrance exam did impact my decision. There's no question that kid has a powerful quirk. Definitely more hero-ready than Midoriya's, to say the least."  

"B-but you didn't send young Midoriya home, either! Surely that's because you see the potential in him, as I do!" 

An unnerving grin creeps onto Aizawa's face. "What's this about? It almost sounds like you've taken a liking to Midoriya already. Isn't it a little early to be playing favorites?"

As Toshinori struggles to come up with an excuse, Aizawa takes another swig of free office coffee. "Both of them have potential, I admit. Otherwise, I would have expelled them without hesitation. There's nothing crueler than leading a kid on when you know his dream will never come true."

Perhaps Aizawa is merciful, in his own way.

"I guess we can agree that Midoriya's not a lost cause. And Todoroki's an interesting case. The kid calls himself a 'pacifist.'" Aizawa flips through the handwritten essay on his desk; Toshinori's not sure how any of the students could have already turned in an assignment. The way Aizawa chuckles to himself prickles the back of Toshinori's neck. 

"A pacifist pro hero... We'll see if there's any potential in that."

Toshinori doesn’t grasp the full weight of Aizawa’s comment until he watches Todoroki's performance on the first day of combat training.

Young Shouji uses his limbs to gather intel on the villain team. "One's in the hall on the north side, fourth floor. The other one's on the same level, location unclear. Both are barefoot. I bet the invisible one's gonna sneak up on us."

Todoroki turns to his classmate. "I'm sorry about this. I'm sure our opponents intend to fight a defensive battle, but that doesn't matter." Todoroki walks out of the building, raises his hand, and declares, "I surrender."

Shouji splutters incoherently with all of his mouths. Ojiro and Hagakure shout, "We won?" from the glassless windows. In the observation room, the rest of the class works itself into an uproar.

"You think fucking giving up is cool or something?!" Bakugou shouts at the monitors.

"Now now, my dear students, settle down please." Toshinori tries to wrangle in the kids before turning on the intercom. "Young Todoroki, are you sure this is what you want?"

"I'm sure. But if Shouji could be assigned a new partner, that would be ideal. I don't want to completely squander the match."

"I- well, that is... quite a bold declaration! Please return to the observation room." Toshinori watches Todoroki calmly walk out of the training arena. He turns to the rest of the class. "Would anyone like an extra turn?"

He's overwhelmed by a swarm of raised hands.

Once Todoroki returns to the basement level, his classmates bombard him with questions. Yaoyorozu asks, "Todoroki-san, why would you surrender before the fight even started?" 

Todoroki turns to the monitors, ignoring the clamor behind him. "I wanted to practice making a tactical retreat."

Shouji's new teammate is decided through several heated rounds of rock paper scissors.

After class, Toshinori finds Aizawa napping in the hallway. He describes what happened during the second round of combat training.

"Oh yeah, about that. Forgot to tell you." Aizawa explains the arrangement he struck with young Todoroki to make up for his lack of class participation. "Tell Todoroki he's got detention with me again. He can come wake me up after seventh period." Aizawa zips his sleeping bag all the way over his face.

The rest of class 1-A quickly clues into Shouto's lack of involvement in hero basic training. Reactions are mixed, but unanimously confused.

"Did you really get into U.A. as a recommended student?" This is a common question.

"The admissions committee must have made a mistake."

"When are you gonna show us your quirk?" This is also frequently asked.

"I don't have one. I'm actually quirkless." This becomes Shouto's go-to response.

Shouto doesn't remember at what point he started calling himself quirkless, but he does know why he finds this label so appealing. Life would have been so much easier without a quirk. No great expectations, no brutal training sessions- just an ordinary childhood and an ordinary existence. Shouto usually daydreams about an alternative life as a quirkless nobody during math class.

Most of the students know that Shouto's pulling their leg, but as long as they keep asking about his quirk, he's sticking with that default answer. The only person who seems bothered by it is Midoriya.

Halfway through their second week of class, Midoriya pulls Shouto aside in the hallway.

"Can you stop telling everyone that you're quirkless?" Midoriya whispers through clenched teeth.

Shouto blinks. "But I am-"

"No, you're not. There's no way you could've gotten in as a recommended student without a quirk."

The reminder of Endeavor's recommendation, after hoping everyone would just forget about it, is unreasonably irritating. "I'm telling you, there was a mistake-"

"Stop lying!" After his outburst, Midoriya nervously peers down both ends of the hallway, making sure there aren't any eavesdroppers. "I don't know what's going on with you. You don't have to explain your situation to me, or what your quirk is, but at least stop flat-out lying and saying that you don't have one. You have no right. You have no idea what being quirkless is actually like."

"And you do?"

"I got my quirk really late, because of... reasons. It's a... medical mystery. But anyway, I thought that I was quirkless for most of my life. Seeing all the other kids get their quirks, when you have nothing- it's easy to feel like you are nothing. It took me a really long time to get over it." Midoriya starts crying; Shouto starts panicking. "I- I guess I'm still not over it."

Shouto struggles to find his words as Midoriya quietly breaks down. "I'm sorry, Midoriya. I didn't know that about you. I shouldn't have said I was quirkless as kind of a joke. And you're right- I actually do have a quirk. But I'm choosing not to use it, because of... reasons." Midoriya smiles slightly at him, but he's still tearing up. "Um, here-" Shouto hands him the pack of tissues in his back pocket.

"Thanks." Midoriya takes the offering with a wet laugh. "Spring allergies are just the worst, you know?"

"Hey Todoroki, are you finally gonna use your quirk in training today?"

"No comment."

"So what is your quirk, anyway?"

"No comment."

Homeroom is fifteen minutes long, which is just enough time for days with a lot of morning announcements. But occasionally, there's nothing on the agenda to report. Instead of giving the kids time to do nothing or screw around, Shouta starts up a game of "Door or Windows."  

It's a glorified, large-format version of "Would You Rather." Shouta gives the class two options, assigns each choice to one side of the room, then the students migrate to either end and argue things out until the start of first period. It gets the kids mingling outside of their usual cliques and thinking for themselves, instead of just absorbing their morning lectures.

Tuesday, April 11th: "Chocolate mushrooms or chocolate bamboo shoots?" (It's amazing to Shouta how heated teenagers can get about the form factor of a childhood snack.)

Friday, April 14th: "Hero costumes: with capes or without capes?" (a classic)

On April 19th, Shouta goes for a bit of a curveball. He draws a quick diagram on the whiteboard. 

"A group of villains creates the following scenario. On track A, there’s a high-speed train that threatens to hit five people tied to the tracks. You can pull a lever that will switch the train over to track B, where one person is tied down.” He adds two red arrows to the drawing, cutting through each set of stick figures. “Choose who’s going to die. No, you can't save everyone, and yes, these are the only two options." Shouta doodles a small door next to the group of five stick figures and a window next to the solo hostage.

For once, none of the kids make an immediate move. "The train's reaching the intersection in ten seconds. Door, or windows? A, or B?"

Everyone in the class gets up and walks towards the windows- except for Todoroki, who stands by the door. Shouta's surprised it wasn't unanimous; usually no one picks track A until he starts throwing in caveats. 

"Todoroki." The low chattering dies down as the rest of the class looks to the other side of the room. "Since you're the only one who kept the train on track A, why don't you try convincing us?"

"The train's already on track A in this scenario. So if the five civilians get hit, it'll be because the villain killed them. But if I pull the lever, then the person on track B will die by my hand." Todoroki looks down at his left hand- perhaps for emphasis, perhaps not.

"Interesting. Have you heard of this problem before?" Todoroki shakes his head. Shouta turns to the other students. "What do you all think?"

There's a bit of uneasy mumbling, but no movement. Then a single voice cuts through the murmurs. 

"That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard." Shouta gives a pointless, tired scolding for language as Bakugou crosses the classroom. 

"But you're agreeing with him?"

"Hell no. I've got a way better argument." Bakugou punches the palm of his opposite hand. "If someone's gotta die anyway, might as well pick what the villains would least expect. Once they're thrown off, blast right into the train and DESTROY THEM!"

"...Right. Good idea, but I never said the villains were driving the train, Bakugou. But anyway, first period's about to start. Everyone, back in your seats."

Todoroki's grade in the hero training course hovers at a solid 47 percent. 

School policy dictates that scores from remedial work get averaged with the original assignments'. If Todoroki had just been performing poorly in hero training, his essays would bump him up to a passing mark. But since he's outright skipping lessons, there isn't much more that Todoroki or Shouta himself can do. Todoroki is ranked near the top of his other classes, but the failing grade in hero training puts his overall average in the middle of the pack.

School policy also dictates that students get detention after three ditched classes, or based on teacher's judgment, but Todoroki voluntarily stays after school most days to work on remedial essay-writing.

Todoroki keeps his word and gets involved in non-violent activities during hero training, just without his quirk. But those opportunities are few and far between. Shouta wonders what kind of message it sends to the students when so much of the heroics curriculum is focused on combat.

Shouta admittedly skims a lot of Todoroki's essays, but he does read some of them- more than he thought he would. Despite the kid's prolific weekly output, it's clear he isn't just submitting a bunch of long-winded garbage. Even without participating himself, Todoroki usually gets the main takeaways from each exercise through hearing the instructions and watching his classmates. There are even a few points the kid makes that are surprisingly poignant. 

So. Todoroki isn't writing thousands of words per week just to slack off. He also doesn't really strike Shouta as an actual pacifist: the way the kid writes about combat shows that he's thought a lot about how to fight with his quirk. It's still unclear what exactly is driving Todoroki to play along with such a tedious academic workaround.

During one of their many after-school detentions, Shouta decides to just ask him.

"I'm waiting for you to expel me."

Shouta fumbles his eye drops; the small bottle falls to the floor. "What." 

"You said on the first day of class that you'd expel anyone without any potential. I'm still waiting for that to happen."

"Todoroki, look. I chose not to expel you, and I'm sticking with that decision. You've got more potential than you think. Right now, the only thing holding you back is yourself."

The kid's fists are clenched at his side. "But I really don't have any potential, in terms of becoming a hero. If I refuse to fight, how can I-"

"There are a lot of ways to be a hero. It's not all about beating up villains."

Eventually, they come to an agreement: Todoroki can skip hero training, write his remedial essay while everyone else is in class, then turn it in by the end of the day. That way, Shouta doesn't have to stay an extra hour for detention all the time. Todoroki snags himself a clear plastic clipboard from the supply cabinet.

Aizawa announces that class 1-A will be practicing rescue training today, at a location somewhat removed from the main campus. Shouto boards the bus with the rest of his classmates. He and Midoriya are the only ones wearing gym uniforms, instead of their hero costumes. Shouto overhears Midoriya explain to Uraraka that his costume got destroyed (again) during combat training.

After Thirteen introduces everyone to the USJ, and the rest of the group starts heading in, Aizawa pulls him aside. "Rescue training doesn't involve any combat. You're still not gonna use your quirk?"

"That's right."

Aizawa sighs. "Then you can sit out for today's lesson. The USJ exercise is supposed to cover how to use your quirk to rescue civilians. All Might's reviewing general rescue maneuvers on Monday." Aizawa hands Shouto a single sheet of paper, which he attaches to his clipboard. "This is a handout that Thirteen wrote up. It's got the speech they're gonna give to the rest of the class, plus your essay prompt. You can work on it outside or on the bus." Shouto nods, then Aizawa follows the group into the domed building. The automatic doors slide shut behind them. 

Shouto takes a seat next to the main entrance, with his back against the wall. He starts to read the handout. 

Introduction:

My quirk, Black Hole, allows me to suck up anything and turn it to dust. I've used this power to save countless civilians, but my quirk could also be used to kill. You may also have powers that can be dangerous. Please don't forget that if you lose focus or make the wrong move, your powers can be deadly.

For today's lesson, you'll learn how to use your quirk to save people's lives. You won't be using your powers to attack enemies or each other, only to help those in need. I hope you leave today with the understanding that being a hero is all about ensuring the safety of others.

It's easy for Shouto to consider how his left side could hurt innocent people. Unfortunately, he's had some first-hand experience with that. His right side isn't much better; he knows the dangers of frostbite and hypothermia. But that last sentence, the idea that hero work is about helping and protecting others... Something in Shouto's chest untangles.

Remedial Assignment: The USJ covers six types of disasters.

• Collapse Zone
• Landslide Zone
• Mountain Zone
• Fire Zone 
• Shipwreck Zone
• Squall Zone

For each zone, describe the unique challenges heroes would face when attempting a rescue in this environment. If applicable, explain how you would use your quirk to enhance your rescuing abilities, or how your quirk may be inhibited by the terrain.

Shouto starts brainstorming at the bottom of the handout. He's got ideas for how he'd use his ice in the shipwreck and fire zones, but he's not sure about the rest. 

He starts to outline his first paragraph when he hears an explosion from inside the USJ. The shockwave is strong enough to make the wall quake against his back. It must have come from one of Bakugou's gauntlets. But why would he need to detonate such a large explosive, if they're practicing a rescue mission?

Then he hears someone's muffled screaming. Shouto stands up, leaving his clipboard in the grass.

Something's off.

He checks his phone. It's been less than twenty minutes since class started. And he's got no cell service, even though Iida had texted everyone a PSA on seatbelts when they got off the bus.

If something had gone horribly wrong with the training, surely an alarm would have gone off, right? Unless whatever's hijacking the cell signal is also affecting the security system. 

Shouto takes a breath. Then he steps in front of the automatic doors. No response. He wedges his fingers between the doors to pry them open.

Of all the things that could have happened, Shouto hadn't expected a full-fledged villain attack. Thirteen is defending a huddle of students from an ominous cloud of mist, but over half the class is missing from the group. The sharp sounds of battle echo across the disaster zones- the rest of his classmates must be facing off against some of the intruders. In the central plaza, Aizawa is surrounded by a swarm of lowly thugs, but the two villains standing by the fountain look much more threatening.

In all of the commotion, no one's noticed his entrance.

Shouto doesn't know if the group standing with Thirteen is being held hostage, or if they're just at an impasse with the villain. He has to keep the element of surprise, while he still has it. 

He spots his next move- a red box, mounted to the wall at shoulder height, fifteen meters from the double doors. While the cloud of purple smoke has its back turned, Shouto does what any civilian might do in an emergency. 

He pulls the fire alarm.

Sirens start to blare from the walls. Sprinklers pop out of the ceiling, drenching everyone and everything in lukewarm tap water. The intangible mist turns around to reveal two gleaming eye-slits.

"Now, Iida!" Uraraka yells.

The purple mist rushes towards him; Shouto runs away from the double doors, perpendicular to Iida's path. The villain's miasma fades away, only to reappear right in front of him. He gets a glimpse of Iida exiting the USJ, just as he's consumed by the swirling darkness.

He's warped to the central plaza. Shouto finds himself sprawled before a villain with way too many hands.

"Shigaraki Tomura."

"Kurogiri. Explain what just happened. Today's weather forecast didn't call for any rain."

"This child manually activated the fire alarm. There was no wireless signal for Tesla to intercept." Kurogiri doesn't have much of a face, but he almost looks nervous. "...Furthermore, in the confusion, one of the other students was able to escape."

Shigaraki scratches feverishly at the exposed skin around his neck. "You fool. If you weren't our warp gate, I'd tear apart every last atom in your body." Then he turns to Shouto. "This is your fault!" 

The villain reaches his hand out, and Shouto starts to run- until he's pulled to safety by Aizawa's scarf. "Todoroki, get out of here!" 

Aizawa tries to step between Shouto and Shigaraki, but he's diverted by a new wave of low-level thugs.

Shigaraki tilts his head. "Todoroki... that name certainly rings a bell. Does that mean you're the son of Endeavor?" Shouto startles, which fills the villain with a disturbed sense of delight. "You are, aren't you? Yes, I can see the family resemblance now. Are you going to burn me to a crisp, like your dear old dad would?"

He hasn't used his quirk, but Shouto's legs are still frozen in place. Shigaraki rushes forward, quickly closing the gap between them. Aizawa uses his capture weapon to fling Shouto out of the way again, then faces off against the villains' apparent leader. Shigaraki gets one hand on Aizawa's right elbow; the skin crumbles away to reveal red, sinewy muscle.

Aizawa leaps back, his hair flying upwards behind him. He's out of breath, trying to get his bearings. Shouto doesn't know how long Aizawa's been fighting, but his quirk isn't suited for drawn-out frontal attacks. The thugs rush at Aizawa from behind, their quirks still unerased.

His body moves on its own. Shouto unleashes a wave of ice. He freezes the crowd of villains in their tracks, but Aizawa and Shigaraki have enough time to jump out of the way.

When he sees the result of Shouto's quirk, Shigaraki's fingers twitch in agitation. "So it's ice, then. What a twist. Let's see how my noumu performs under frosty conditions." 

The monstrous tower of muscle pounces into the plaza. Aizawa moves to intervene, but Shigaraki cuts him off. With cold air grating at his lungs, Shouto stomps his right foot and covers half of the noumu's body in ice. The behemoth screeches and forces its way out of the frozen restraints, amputating its right arm in the process. Fresh muscle and bone burst out of the noumu's shoulder, until the limb is built anew.

Rapid tissue regeneration- is that the noumu's quirk?

Shouto rushes to freeze the noumu again while keeping his left side turned away from his opponent. In the chaos of a real battle, Shouto's mind has no room for ethical dilemmas or grudges against his old man, or even his own train of thought. He's running on nothing but instinct and muscle memory. 

With all of his attention on the noumu, Shouto doesn't notice that some of the minor villains have melted through his ice. Aizawa doubles back to handle the remaining small fry before they can attack Shouto's blind spot.

In their distraction, Shigaraki turns to the shipwreck zone's shoreline- too late, Shouto sees Mineta, Midoriya, and Asui bobbing in the water. Shigaraki stretches out his hand towards Asui's head; visceral dread stops Shouto in his tracks. Aizawa knocks out the last of the thugs, then turns and nullifies Shigaraki's quirk just in time. 

The noumu screeches, beak saluting the air. Its upper body frees itself from Shouto's ice, and its legs regenerate before the noumu even hits the ground. Shouto sends out another burst of ice, but his quirk is slowing from the dip in his body temperature. His next attack isn't fast enough to catch the noumu before it launches itself into the air.  

Someone pushes him out of the way, and Shouto skids across the floor of the central plaza. When he looks up, Aizawa is pinned under the noumu's staggering form. The monster slams his teacher's face into the painted cement. Aizawa's body goes limp.

Then the noumu turns back to Shouto, its beak twisted into a voracious grin. This isn't happening, this can't be happening- Shouto can't die here, when he's barely even lived-

"Get away!" Midoriya's scream cuts through the chaos. His smash attack aims for Shigaraki, who's still kneeling by the water. The aftershock rips through the central plaza, buffeting everyone in the area with a violent gale of wind. Bracing against the blowback, Shouto puts up just enough ice to shield himself from getting blown away.

When the dust clears, the noumu now stands before Midoriya’s fist, having intercepted the smash with its bulky torso. The monster stands tall, as if the attack had never even landed.

Shigaraki says to Midoriya, "You're pretty powerful. This ‘smash’ of yours- are you one of All Might's disciples? Oh well, doesn't matter. I'm done with you now."

The noumu swings its arm at Midoriya's body; Shigaraki's hands reach for Mineta and Asui. Shouto forces his ice forward, but there's no way it'll get there in time-

The USJ's main entrance blasts open. Before Shouto can even blink, All Might has pulled him, Aizawa, and his trio of classmates to safety.

"Fear not, students. I am here!" 

All Might saves the day. The rest of the teachers finish the job. The low-level thugs are apprehended, but Shigaraki and Kurogiri manage to escape.

Detective Tsukauchi gives class 1-A a quick debrief of the USJ casualties.

"Aizawa has been admitted to the hospital for multiple facial fractures. There’s no apparent brain damage, but his orbital floor was shattered, which could have lasting effects on his eyesight. His right elbow also has a major case of skin tearing, but this shouldn't present any long-term issues as long as it doesn't get infected.

"Thirteen is receiving treatment for lacerations to the back, self-inflicted wounds from when they tried to use Black Hole on Kurogiri. We're expecting a full recovery. All Might and Midoriya will also heal from their injuries. Recovery Girl's quirk is enough to treat them, so they're both resting in the nurse's office." 

Shouto subtly warms himself with his left side, before any frostbite can set in. Using his quirk in the USJ had felt worlds apart from any of the training sessions with his father. Defending himself and his allies from real villains in a real fight- Shouto doesn't feel heroic, exactly, but he also doesn't feel like a fraud. 

Kirishima raves, "Todoroki, man, your quirk's amazing! I can't believe you gave All Might an assist with the noumu, using your ice like that!" 

"Um, thanks-"

Ashido chimes in, "And you're the one who pulled the fire alarm, right? Thanks to you, Iida got enough of an opening to escape!"

Bakugou snaps two fingers in Shouto's face to get his attention, then shoots him a suspicious glare. "So what took you so fucking long to start using your quirk?" The rest of the students pause their own conversations to listen in.

Shouto shrugs. "It's kind of a long story." He leaves it at that.

Shouta discharges himself from the hospital, against medical advice. Whether he's stuck in the hospital or stuck in school, the bones in his face will heal as slowly as they want to.

Shuzenji berates him for returning to U.A. a week ahead of schedule, but she still restores the rest of the skin on his elbow. His nose itches, but the doctors had warned him not to mess with the bandages holding his face together. He sighs through the gauze. It's going to be a long day.

His students look surprised, and possibly alarmed, to see him back in class so soon after the USJ attack. The mood in the room quickly morphs into excitement as he announces the upcoming Sports Festival. He sends the sign-up sheet around the room; it comes back to him with nineteen signatures. 

Shouta claps once to regain the class's attention. "A couple more announcements. Everyone's parents got a letter from the school explaining what happened at the USJ, as well as the increased security measures U.A. plans to implement. We also mailed out a preliminary copy of everyone's transcripts." 

When half of the kids start squirming, he adds, "These are just your grades as they stand right now, a month into the school year. You still have time to bring your grades up before final exams. But since we had to send mail to everyone's parents anyway, Principal Nedzu figured we might as well include a summary of your academic performance."

Shouta notices Todoroki in the back, head bowed, body rigid in his seat.

At the end of the day, Todoroki goes up to the teacher's podium and hands him a stapled set of loose-leaf.

"Which essay is this?"

"Thirteen's remedial assignment. For the USJ rescue training."

Shouta starts to pass it back. "You didn't need to finish writing this. We never even started the rescue training, and you were just as involved in the villain attack as everyone else."

"I know, but-"

"Shouto!"

Endeavor barges through the door, his son's transcript crumpled in his hand. He stomps up to the podium, but his anger is directed at the child, not Shouta. 

"What are you doing here?" Todoroki looks absolutely mortified.

"I came here looking for an explanation. So explain yourself! Why exactly are you failing basic hero training, when that's the one thing you should be focusing on?" Endeavor's flames creep higher and higher as he yells. Shouta's concerned that he'll set off the smoke detector.

The kid slides into a defensive posture, curled slightly inwards. But Todoroki's positioned himself halfway between the teacher's podium and his father- as if he's trying to protect Shouta from Endeavor's wrath. Based on his form, it's a well-practiced fighting stance.

With that, Shouta starts bullshitting. "Your kid's not the only one flunking hero training right now. The whole class is failing- on paper, that is. The USJ exercise was supposed to be one of the largest grades in the course, but obviously it didn't pan out as expected. Everyone got an automatic zero on their record. I didn't have a chance to correct it since I just got out of the hospital."

At least all the bandages around his head make it easier to lie to Endeavor's face. The USJ exercise was never entered into the gradebook, and U.A.'s recordkeeping system doesn't input grades automatically. But Endeavor wouldn't know that. The preliminary transcripts only include the overall average for each course. 

Shouta waves Todoroki's freshly submitted essay in front of them. "To make up for the lost instructional time, I assigned everyone a five-page essay on what would have been covered by the rescue training. So once I put this in the gradebook, Todoroki's hero training grade will go right back up." 

"Is that so."

"Sure is. By the way, can I see your visitor's pass?"

"Don't play around, Eraserhead, you know who I am-"

"I don't, actually. The school just got infiltrated by a bunch of villains, in case you haven't heard. For all I know, you could be a criminal in disguise. So if you don't have a validated visitor's pass, I'll have to ask you to vacate the premises."

Endeavor growls, but he turns to the door. "Shouto! We're leaving."

Shouta gives his student a look from the corner of one eye; his panic is almost palpable. "Actually, Todoroki was going to stay after school for-"

"Never mind, Aizawa-sensei. I forgot what I was going to ask you." The kid slings his backpack over one shoulder. "I have to go home now. Is that okay?"

Shouta doesn't trust that Todoroki's eager to leave, after weeks of him voluntarily staying an extra hour after school. But he lets the kid go. Todoroki skulks behind his father, face hidden by the Flame Hero's shadow.

Izuku still isn't totally used to the feeling of Recovery Girl's quirk. Which is surprising, considering how often she has to use it on him. He's fully healed from the USJ incident, but there's a lingering fuzzy feeling in his formerly broken legs. Maybe the pain receptors in his body get confused when his injuries are healed so quickly. But it's not a big deal- the fuzziness will probably go away after one or two more days.  

After fourth period, Izuku approaches Todoroki's desk to ask him a few questions about his quirk. "But I mean, only if you're comfortable-"

"It's okay. If there's anything I don't want to answer, I'll let you know."

With Todoroki's permission, Izuku jots a few notes about how he makes ice with his quirk, starting from a nucleation site on his body or on the ground. Izuku asks him if the humidity or the ambient temperature has any effect on his quirk; Todoroki says he's never thought about it. By the time they're finished, everyone else has already gone off to lunch.

On their way to the cafeteria, Todoroki listens to him ramble about a group of Canadian pro heroes with freezing quirks. Izuku doesn’t notice when he misses the last step on the first set of stairs. His sneaker slips on the waxed flooring, and the tingling in his legs makes it hard to regain his balance. He starts to fall backwards.

"Midoriya-"

Todoroki grabs one of Izuku's pinwheeling arms and pulls him away from the stairs. Izuku stumbles into Todoroki's shoulder, then they both hit the floor.  

Todoroki gasps as Izuku practically falls into his lap. Todoroki has one arm outstretched behind him, propping them both up- that explains why Izuku hadn't completely bowled him over. 

The air feels uncomfortably warm. Izuku scrambles to get off of Todoroki and stand back up. "I- I'm so sorry, I- that was close." Is it more embarrassing to break a bone falling down the stairs, or from using his own quirk? "You really saved me there, Todoroki-kun. I guess my legs still feel a little off..."

"Just be more careful next time." Todoroki gets to his feet, slightly hunched over, face hidden by the angle. He has a vice grip on his right arm- the one he used to break their fall.

"Is your arm okay?" Izuku doesn't recall Todoroki getting hurt during the USJ fight, but there was a lot going on at the time.

"It's just my wrist. But it's fine." 

"Do you need help finding Recovery Girl's office? I can show you-"

"No." Despite the strain in his voice, when Todoroki looks up, his expression is carefully neutral. He casually walks towards the next flight of stairs, but the knuckles on his left hand are bone-white as he grabs the railing. "It's fine, Midoriya, really. We should head to the cafeteria now." 

Izuku sighs. "I thought we were done with this. I thought you trusted me enough to be honest with me."

He doesn't expect Todoroki to flinch, doesn't expect the hurt in his eyes when Todoroki looks his way again. Maybe Izuku had gone too far. Everyone has the right to keep some things secret- he, above anyone else, should know that.

Before Izuku can take back what he said, Todoroki rubs the back of his neck and says, "I know I should be honest with you, and I want to be. But it's not that simple." Izuku continues to wait by the stairs. Todoroki eventually caves: he gingerly pulls his sleeve back, revealing the bandages wrapped around his wrist. A thin sheen of ice starts to form around the injury. "I'm pretty sure I sprained my wrist yesterday. But I honestly don't want Recovery Girl to take a look at it. And I honestly can't tell you why that is, or how it happened."

Something catches in Izuku's throat. "That's okay. I'm sorry for overstepping- you don't have to share anything that you want to keep to yourself. I was just worried that you were hurt." He takes a few careful steps downwards, puts a hand on the railing, then looks back up at Todoroki. "Would Aizawa-sensei be a better option?"

Midoriya and Todoroki talk about quirks for a while before heading to lunch, only to return to the classroom a few minutes later. Todoroki stands further back, trying to hide behind his shorter classmate.

Shouta pauses from rifling through his paperwork. "Did you two forget something?"

Midoriya steps aside, revealing that Todoroki is cradling his right wrist. 

"I lost my footing earlier, going up to the cafeteria, and Todoroki-kun saved me from falling down the stairs. But I think he hurt his wrist in the process. We were wondering if you could take a look at it."

"Why not go to Recovery Girl's office?"

"It's not that big of a deal. I don't want to waste her time with this." Based on how tightly his left hand grips his opposite sleeve, Todoroki is clearly in more pain than what his statement implies.

"I'll take a look. Midoriya, you can go back to lunch. Todoroki, make yourself comfortable." 

Midoriya lingers for a moment before exiting the classroom. Todoroki takes a seat at a front row desk, keeping his right forearm close to his chest. Shouta slides into the adjacent chair.

He helps the kid roll up his sleeve. His wrist is already bandaged, but visibly swollen, even before Shouta starts to unwrap it. "How did this happen?"

"I fell down the stairs."

"I thought Midoriya said that you stopped him from falling down the stairs."

"No, I- at home. Yesterday. I fell down the stairs last night."

Shouta unwinds the last layer of bandages. Todoroki's right wrist is mottled with bruising and burn marks. "Were these stairs on fire?"

Todoroki bites the corner of his bottom lip. "The lights were off, and I was using my left hand to see where I was going. But I tripped, and when I landed, I accidentally burned myself."

"Sure. Now can you tell me what's really going on?"

"That's really what happened. I swear."

"Sure," Shouta says again. "You don't want Recovery Girl to heal this?" 

"It's not that bad. Midoriya was just overreacting."

He checks for any deformities, but there's no palpable break, and the wrist still has full range of motion when Shouta gently maneuvers the joint. It's probably just a sprain with a burn on top. He adds a foam splint and wraps Todoroki's wrist in a new set of bandages from the supply cabinet.

"You know, Todoroki, next time you need to lie to someone, try not to blink and look to the left. You've got a pretty easy tell." The kid startles, but Shouta waves him off. "Now go get something to eat before the bell rings."

On paper, all schoolteachers in Japan are supposed to be mandated reporters of child abuse. But going straight to the police has never been Shouta's style.

He knows how much clout Endeavor has, both at U.A. and in the public eye. Since the USJ attack happened just a few days ago, Endeavor could easily write off his child's sprained wrist as an injury from a villain. And Todoroki might have a reason for not coming clean about his father hurting him. Shouta doesn't want to scare the kid off, when he could really use someone in his corner.

At the end of the day, Todoroki hands him another remedial essay. The handwriting is noticeably wobbly, compared to his usual tidy script. It's unclear if he tried writing with his sprained wrist, or if he wrote the essay with his non-dominant hand. Shouta should have told him to submit a typed copy.

The essay gets filed away in an ever-growing manila folder. Shouta remarks offhandedly, "You didn't sign up for the Sports Festival when I passed the form around."

"About that, I-"

"It's fine. The Sports Festival's completely optional. You can sit it out if you want, and it won't affect your transcript. But it would give you a chance to put yourself out there, make a bit of a name for yourself. And I mean your name, not your father's."

Todoroki twitches slightly at the mention of Endeavor.

"But there are other ways to do that, too. I can understand wanting to get out of your father's shadow. And I can also understand needing a way out, but feeling like you've got no options." Shouta clears his throat. "So here's the deal. After the Sports Festival is over, I can write a recommendation letter for you to transfer to Shiketsu High, in Osaka. You can continue your hero training there, away from Endeavor's reach. Shiketsu's too far west to commute, but they offer room and board for students from outside the prefecture. Or if you're really against hero work, I'll help you transfer into any of the high schools in Mustafu, or anywhere else in Japan." 

Todoroki looks a little shell-shocked. Admittedly, it was a lot of information to throw at the kid, all at once. Shouta adds, "I know this is a big decision, so you can take a week to think it over." 

"Actually, Aizawa-sensei- I've already decided. I'm staying at U.A. And I'm gonna participate in the Sports Festival."

Shouta almost chokes on his stale office coffee. "That's- that's good to hear. What changed your mind?"

"The attack at USJ, and reading the transcript of Thirteen's speech... I realized that I could use my ice to save people. That there's more to hero work than just mindless violence. Now I know I can choose my own path. I don't have to ride along my old man's conveyor belt." Shouta doesn't completely get the metaphor, but that's beside the point. "I can still become a hero. And I'll do it without using my left side."

That last part stops Shouta short. "Hold on-" 

Todoroki bows before he can fully interrupt. "Thank you for supporting me, Aizawa-sensei. I'm sorry for causing you trouble." 

Shouta sighs. If this is two steps forward, one step back- that's probably good enough. "I'm just doing my job, kid."

The next day, Shouta sends Nedzu the official roster of 1-A students competing in the Sports Festival. All twenty names are now on the list.