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The night of the Sports Festival is always a pain in the ass for underground heroes like Shouta. Crooks and petty thieves love to act up while the heroes are occupied at Yuuei, and afterwards Shouta and the others have to come in and clean up.
It was even worse this year because everything’s been such a shitshow. Ever since the USJ proved how weak Yuuei’s security was, the villains were getting more and more daring, and the festival itself hadn’t exactly been fantastic.
Bakugou's refusal to accept the medal, hero students bowing out because it wasn’t fair, Midoriya’s severe injuries… it was a mess.
Just remembering it made Shouta’s head spin. He exhaled, adjusted his capture weapon around his neck.
Then a quiet, pained groan came from the alleyway behind Shouta, and he spun around on his heels. He slid a loop of cloth from around his throat and crept closer, peering into the darkness.
Empty, save for the injured person lying in a heap on the floor.
Shouta started forward again, stepping down with more force than strictly necessary so as to not startle them.
Even so, the person flinched at his soft tread, and attempted to slide back.
“Hey, hey,” Shouta cautioned. “It’s okay. I’m a hero. I’m here to help.”
Strangely, that only worsened the stranger’s panicked breaths.
“A hero?” they inhaled shakily.
“Yes,” Shouta said. “I’m Eraserhead.”
“Aizawa-sensei?” they gasped.
How did they-
The kid shifted a bit, presumably to verify Shouta’s identity, and he had to resist the urge to gasp when their bruised face came into view.
Todoroki Shouto was the beaten-up kid in the alleyway.
“Who did this to you?” Shouta demanded, his whisper quiet yet fierce.
Todoroki averted his gaze, and Shouta asked again. The kid shook his head. “I don’t wanna say.”
Shouta nodded briskly-- at this moment, it’s not a pressing concern. “Alright. Next question, then. How bad are your injuries? Do you need a hospital? Recovery Girl, if you’re alert enough? I have a minor first-aid kid, if it’s not bad. I can take you home afterwards,” he offered, only for Todoroki to cut him off.
“Not home.” He paused, flushed red. “I mean, uh, please. Not yet.”
“Alright,” Shouta agreed easily, filing the topic away as something to pursue at a later date. “That still begs the question of what type of medical care you need. What hurts, kid?”
Todoroki hesitated, but replied with a startlingly accurate self-diagnosis. “I’ve got a black eye, I think, and my right knee is bruised. My nose is broken... and I think I might’ve overused my ice, as well,” he added as an afterthought.
“Geez, kid,” Shouta sighed. “I know Recovery Girl healed you after the Festival, so you’ve been training afterwards when you were specifically told to rest?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Todoroki muttered, which was as good as a yes .
But why would he have? Shouta couldn’t help but wonder. If it had been Bakugou, he perhaps would have understood, but Todoroki? It didn’t make sense.
Unless… Todoroki didn’t want to go home.
Shouta forced the invasive thought from his mind; there were more important things to focus on.
“Alright, then. I’ll take you to the hospital, then-”
“Please. Aizawa-sensei, please. Don’t,” Todoroki said, catching on the last word.
“Why not?” Shouta asked diplomatically, and studied the kid’s reaction.
“I- the hospital bill,” he said.
“What about it?”
“Well, it’s… I don’t want my father to see it.”
Shouta inhaled sharply. Oh, doesn’t that explain it.
Todoroki Enji had more than enough money to cover the cost, and between the kid’s reluctance to go home and the fact he’d been training after his supposed loss at the Sports Festival after explicitly being told not to… his dad was abusing him.
Fuck.
“Well then, Recovery Girl it is,” Shouta sighed, trying once again to push all other thoughts out of his head. “You’re too tired for her quirk to be of much help, but she’s trained in regular EMT work as well.”
“Do we have to?” Todoroki asked in a small voice.
Shouta sighed sympathetically. “I don’t have the right skills and equipment to help with injuries to your extent,” he said honestly. “It’s Recovery Girl or the hospital.”
“Alright, then,” Todoroki said.
Shouta nodded and pulled out his phone. “I’ll let her know we’re on our way. How much can I tell her?”
“You’re… you’re asking?” Todoroki blinked.
Shouta nodded. “The more I can tell her, the less cross she’ll be, but it's your business, kid. I’m not going to tell her more than she needs to know-- at least, not without your permission.”
“I, uh. Thanks,” Todoroki managed. “Can you- can you just tell her what’s necessary?”
“Yes.” Shouta spent a few moments typing, then stowed his phone away. Chiyo kept odd hours, so he was sure she would see it, and no matter how gruff she may be, she’d never abandon a kid in need. “Alrighty then. She should be ready by the time we get there,” he told Todoroki. “Can you walk at all, or do you need me to carry you?”
“I-”
“The honest answer,” Shouta amended. Todoroki was still a fifteen-year-old hero course student, after all. Shouta knew how they worked.
Todoroki glanced away. “I… don’t think I can walk, sensei.”
“No problem,” Shouta said. “I’m gonna come pick you up now, alright?”
“Mhm,” Todoroki confirmed after a moment’s hesitation. “Be careful for my-”
“Right leg, yes,” Shouta said. “Don’t worry, kid.”
He then took his capture weapon and wound it around the kid’s torso, then left leg. “It’ll be like a harness,” he explained at Todoroki’s questioning look.
“Ah.”
It wasn’t exactly easy to carry him like that, but it avoided putting undue stress on his injured leg, and Shouta could bear it so it worked. Still, his already-quick jog was more like a run by the time they reached Yuuei.
“Oh, look at you two,” Chiyo scolded, ushering them in at the same time. “You look dead on your feet Aizawa, come set the boy down.”
He followed her instructions and muttered a quick thank you, then turned to Todoroki. “Would you like for me to wait outside while Recovery Girl takes care of you?”
He was putting the choice in Todoroki’s hands, because while Chiyo would appreciate the extra space him being gone would have, and Shouta would appreciate the firsthand knowledge of what he’d gone through, it was ultimately Todoroki’s body, and therefore his choice.
“You can stay, sensei,” Todoroki said quietly.
Shouta nodded shortly and took a seat in the corner, where he’d be out of Chiyo’s way but still in the kid’s line of sight.
“Alright dearie, now that that’s been worked out let’s get started, yes?” Chiyo asked.
Todoroki mumbled his agreement, and she got to work.
Shouta had seen a lot of medical procedures before, both from personal experience and from being there for friends and victims. But it’s somehow different, with Todoroki. Maybe because he’s a Class A kid because he’s one of Shouta’s kids or maybe just because he’s so badly injured, and with nothing to do but wait, Shouta’s thoughts can’t help but drift to the aggressor's identity.
Even so, Shouta managed to (mostly) pay attention, and when Chiyo kissed Todoroki for the final time and he fell right asleep, exhausted from the rapid-fire healing, he knew what the medicine Chiyo handed him was for.
“Even though he’s all healed up, Todoroki-kun will have some residual pain. This should help,” she explained.
Shouta nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, yeah. Am I fine to take him home for the night?”
“Mhm. I wouldn’t recommend straying too far from his side, though,” she warned, and Shouta wholeheartedly agreed. When Todoroki was scared, or angry, he tended to lash out. And considering his quirk…
“I’d rather he not blow up my house.”
“Exactly,” Chiyo said. “I know he’s probably sworn you to secrecy, but I’m concerned. When you can, let me know what’s going on.”
He made a vaguely agreeing noise and walked over to Todoroki’s side, capture weapon at the ready. Asleep, he was strangely peaceful.
“And Shouta,” Chiyo called to his retreating back. “Don’t forget, you’re a mandated reporter. If you figure out what’s going on…”
“I won’t,” Shouta said. “Forget, that is.”
“Alright then,” she said, and settled back into the room. He walked through Yuuei’s hall and out the front door, Todoroki wrapped against his side like a koala.
The kid’s words from earlier echoed.
Please don’t make me go home, sensei. Please.
Shouta wouldn’t forget his duty, he couldn’t but in this case, the logical decision was to simply… avoid it.
Reporting it would send Todoroki home, somewhere he’s desperate to avoid for reasons Shouta can only guess at.
(Reporting it would send Todoroki away from Shouta’s watchful gaze, would send Todoroki back to the house that sent him into the streets looking like this, and the what if’s would pick at Shouta’s brain and tear him apart, piece by piece.)
For that night, at least, Shouta would let Todoroki rest. His suspicions could wait until morning.
And then…
When the sun peeked over the skyline and turned the clouds crimson, Shouta would figure out the truth. He would pry the story from Todoroki himself, then work out the best way to keep him safe.
Shouta was willing to play dirty.
After all, shouldn’t you fight fire with fire?