Chapter Text
•°☆
Aizawa’s face went pale at Todoroki’s admission. For a split second, he forgot to breathe. His mind immediately began racing through possibilities, each one somehow worse than the last.
Had Bakugou sustained some type of injury during the fight with the criminals? Something that had somehow slipped past Recovery Girl’s healing?
The thought sent a cold chill down his spine.
“Stay calm,” he muttered to himself under his breath, forcing the words out even though his heart was hammering painfully against his ribs. “We need to figure this out. Panicking won’t help.”
But that was easier said than done.
He stood abruptly, his chair scraping faintly against the floor, and grabbed his notebook and pen from the desk. His fingers trembled as he uncapped the pen. His handwriting came out a little shaky as he quickly composed a message for Todoroki to read.
****
Todoroki, you and Bakugou have switched bodies because of a quirk you both came into contact with. We are working on changing you back. For some reason, your Bakugou’s ears are not working. We need to determine what’s wrong.
****
He turned the notebook around and held it up in front of Todoroki so he could see it clearly.
His student stared at the words in stunned silence. His eyes widened slightly, the realization slowly settling in. Aizawa couldn't blame him. Waking up in someone else’s body would already be deeply disorienting and frightening enough…
…but waking up like that without the ability to hear anything at all?
That would be absolutely terrifying.
“Sir, I—uh—” Todoroki said slowly, his voice uncertain and strained. He lifted a hand and pointed at his ears, as though needing to physically acknowledge the problem. “I can’t even hear my voice.”
Aizawa wasted no time. He turned sharply toward the door.
“Recovery Girl,” he called, his voice laced with urgency.
She hurried in within moments, her footsteps were quick and her expression already filled with concern.
Her gaze turned to Todoroki and she instinctively began scanning him for injuries.
“What happened?” she asked, eyes sharp and focused.
Aizawa rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, choosing his words carefully. “Bakugou’s ears appear to have stopped functioning. Todoroki, who is currently in Bakugou’s body, can’t hear anything at all.”
Recovery Girl’s brow furrowed together. “That’s strange. I didn’t notice any damage to Bakugou’s ears when I examined him after the commotion.” Her voice had softened, but there was a thread of worry woven into it.
Right then, Todoroki let out a startled yelp.
His whole body jerked, and his hands immediately flew up to his ears. His fingers pressed against them as he began massaging the sides of his head, wincing in discomfort.
“What happened?” Aizawa called out instinctively, then realized, with a grim pang of frustration, that Todoroki couldn’t hear him.
He grabbed the notebook again, flipping quickly to a new page as he wrote with renewed urgency.
****
What happened? Are you in pain?
****
He held it up.
Todoroki’s eyes flicked over the words. He swallowed, took a small breath, and gave a faint nod.
“My ears… something happened,” he said, his voice slightly slurred.
“Like a shock. It hurt a little.”
That was deeply concerning.
Recovery Girl immediately brought out her medical kit and moved closer to the examination table, her expression tightening with worry. The usual calm kindness in her eyes was still there, but now it was layered with seriousness.
She hated when students were hurt, and this situation was far from normal.
“Let me take a look,” she said gently, her voice soft and reassuring out of habit, even though she knew Todoroki couldn’t hear a single word. Old instincts were hard to suppress. She gave Aizawa a small nod, silently asking him to translate for her.
Aizawa was already reaching for his notebook.
His pen scratched across the page in quick, purposeful strokes.
****
Please lie down on the examination table. She needs to try to remove something from your ear.
****
He turned the notebook around so Todoroki could read it.
Slowly, the kid laid down on the examination table, his movements careful and tense. Todoroki's hands hovered awkwardly at his sides, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
Recovery Girl leaned over him and switched on a small handheld medical light. The bright white beam illuminated the inside of his ear canal as she gently tilted his head to the side.
Then she paused.
Her brows knit together.
Inside, almost perfectly hidden against the skin of the ear canal, was a tiny metal object. It was barely visible , the sort of thing that could be easily missed unless someone was looking very closely.
“That’s unusual…” she murmured under her breath. Her voice had lost its softness now, replaced by clinical curiosity and concern.
Aizawa stepped closer, peering over her shoulder just enough to see the faint metallic glint.
“What is it?” he asked quietly.
“I’m not sure,” she replied, shaking her head slightly. “I wonder if, while Bakugou was fighting, he got hit and some kind of debris entered his ears. It’s possible something lodged itself inside.”
But even as she said it, her tone suggested she didn’t quite believe that explanation.
She took out a small tool and a container of special medical wax. Her hands were steady, years of experience guiding her every movement.
With slow, careful precision, she applied the wax to secure the object without pushing it deeper.
Todoroki tensed slightly at the unfamiliar sensation. His eyes flicked toward Aizawa, searching for reassurance.
Aizawa quickly wrote another note and held it up.
****
Don’t worry. Recovery Girl is just removing the object.
****
Todoroki gave a small nod, though worry still lingered behind his eyes.
After a few long, silent moments, the wax bonded enough for Recovery Girl to gently pull the object free.
It slid out with a faint resistance, and then it was in her hand.
She held it up to the light.
It was a tiny device, no bigger than a grain of rice, yet clearly man-made. Microscopic circuits were etched along the metallic surface, far too intricate to be random debris.
Aizawa’s eyes narrowed.
Recovery Girl didn’t speak for a second. She simply stared at the device, the gears in her mind obviously turning.
“This… isn’t natural,” she said at last. “Someone made this.”
The room felt heavier.
Without wasting time, she moved to the other ear.
“Hold still,” she said automatically, and then gestured for Aizawa to repeat the instruction. He scribbled the words. Todoroki read them. He obeyed.
The procedure was repeated, and again, another identical device emerged.
Rhey found two matching implants.
Aizawa and Recovery Girl exchanged a long, uneasy look.
Todoroki watched them both, his chest rising and falling a little faster now. He couldn’t hear what they were saying. He could only see their faces… and read the tension there.
He swallowed.
Aizawa took the devices carefully, almost like they might explode. He wrapped them securely before placing them into a sealed container.
“I’ll take these to Power Loader,” he said, his voice low and grim. “If anyone can figure out what they are, it’s him.”
Recovery Girl nodded. “And I’ll examine Todoroki further. Just in case.”
As Aizawa turned to leave, he paused then wrote one more note and handed it to Todoroki.
****
You did well. We removed the objects. Power Loader will analyze them. You’re safe for now.
****
Todoroki read the words slowly.
He didn’t move for a moment.
Then he let out a small breath of relief mixed with lingering fear.
•°•°•°•°•°•°
Aizawa didn’t take long.
Power Loader had barely glanced at the devices before promising a full breakdown, and Aizawa had immediately turned back toward Recovery Girl’s office.
When he pushed the door open again, the room was quiet in that sterile, uneasy way medical spaces always were.
Todoroki was still on the examination table, sitting upright now, shoulders stiff. Recovery Girl stood close, her small medical light still in hand as she peered into his ear with focused intensity. She’d switched tools and was now using a scanner Aizawa recognized, one that measured nerve response and auditory function.
She frowned.
Then frowned deeper.
Aizawa felt his stomach drop.
“What is it?” he asked, already bracing himself.
Recovery Girl didn’t answer right away. She adjusted the scanner, ran it again, then moved to the other ear and repeated the test. The silence stretched. Todoroki’s gaze flicked between them, searching their faces for clues he couldn’t hear.
Finally, Recovery Girl straightened slowly.
“Aizawa,” she said quietly, “these devices didn’t cause the hearing loss.”
His blood ran cold. “What?”
She set the scanner down with deliberate care. “There’s no acute damage from the devices themselves. No signs of recent trauma severe enough to fully shut down auditory processing.”
She looked back at Todoroki, then at Aizawa again.
“He’s completely deaf.”
Aizawa stared at her. “Completely?”
Recovery Girl nodded once. “There is no auditory response at all.” Her mouth tightened. “Gone.”
Todoroki noticed the shift immediately. He lifted a hand uncertainly and pointed to his ear again, brows knitting together in silent question.
Aizawa’s head ached.
Recovery Girl hesitated, then spoke again, voice lower. “And Aizawa… this didn’t just happen.”
He felt something ugly twist in his gut. “What do you mean?”
She exhaled slowly. “This level of damage doesn’t occur overnight. Or even over a few weeks.” She tapped the scanner lightly. “Based on the nerve degradation, the scarring patterns… I’d estimate years.”
Years...
Aizawa’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
“You’re saying Bakugou has been deaf,” he said carefully, “since before U.A.”
“Yes,” Recovery Girl said. “Possibly long before.”
The room felt too small.
Aizawa dragged a hand down his face, exhaustion and disbelief crashing together. “That doesn’t make any sense. He responds to verbal commands. He argues. He—”
He stopped. Because everything suddenly made sense.
Bakugou watched people’s mouths very intently.
Bakugou always stood too close while having a conversation.
Bakugou's first reaction to any type of questioning was lashing out.
“How…” Aizawa muttered. “How in the hell did he hide that?”
Recovery Girl’s expression softened, but there was sadness there now. “Children adapt. Especially stubborn ones.” She paused. “And Bakugou’s quirk…”
“Explosions,” Aizawa said bitterly.
“Yes.” She nodded. “Continuous exposure to extreme concussive noise. At close range. Without protection.” She shook her head slowly. “It would destroy anyone’s hearing over time.”
Aizawa’s jaw tightened.
“So he did this to himself,” he murmured, then immediately hated how that sounded.
“No,” Recovery Girl said gently. “He survived what his quirk demanded of him.”
Silence fell again.
Aizawa’s thoughts spiraled.
How did he pass the hearing test?
How did no one notice?
Why hadn’t his parents told the school?
Why hadn’t Bakugou told him?
He looked at Todoroki. The kid knew something was wrong. He could read it in their faces.
Aizawa reached for the notebook again, slower this time. His hand hovered over the page.
What could he even say?
Recovery Girl leaned closer to Todoroki, offering a small, reassuring smile.
Aizawa wrote carefully.
****
Bakugou’s hearing loss was not caused by the devices.
He was already deaf before today.
****
Todoroki read it.
His eyes widened in shock.
“…Before?” he said aloud, voice barely above a whisper he couldn’t hear.
Aizawa swallowed.
Recovery Girl added quietly, “Aizawa… I think Bakugou learned to compensate so well that even he may not fully understand the extent of it. Or he understood, and chose not to acknowledge it.”
Aizawa closed his eyes briefly.
Why would he hide it?
Meaby because Bakugou Katsuki refuses to be seen as anything less than unstoppable.
Because it meant admitting that he nedded help.
Because someone might decide he wasn’t fit to be a hero.
When Aizawa opened his eyes again, he knew that he had to do something.
“We need to contact his parents. Review every medical record he has. And when Bakugou gets his body back…”
“…he and I are going to have a very long conversation.”
♡♡♡