Todoroki Shouto.
Aizawa’s “current stray project” as Hizashi calls him.
Aizawa would prefer to call him something like a curiosity or interest but honestly, stray seems like the right word.
Todoroki Shouto is a new first year, the son of one of the highest ranked Auror-Heroes Japan has to offer, and a sort of enigma that Aizawa needs to understand.
He’s powerful, clearly, has had magical training already, and he doesn’t even try to hide it. Most wizards that’re kids of Auror-Heroes or even old magical families typically come in with basic knowledge of spell-casting but Todoroki seems to already have the magical capabilities of a fifth year. And much to everyone surprise, he’s not boastful or arrogant like they all expected him to be.
Aizawa’s the head of class 1-A and one of two professors for hero studies. As the head of a class, he confers with the other professors and gets regular updates on all of his students’ progress. All of the other professors have the same to say about Todoroki: quiet, magically skilled, physically strong, and weirdly only has complete control over half of his quirk.
Typically, the first-years come in with little control over their quirks, but Todoroki has what seems like mastery over his cold side while only having basic control over his hot side.
It’s strange and it was one of the first things that tipped Aizawa off to something being wrong with the kid.
The second was the horrifically empty look he gets in his eyes.
In the classroom and on the training fields, Todoroki sometimes seems to fall asleep with his eyes open, slouching over himself or onto something somewhat solid. Aizawa knows it’s dissociation but doesn’t know how to approach the kid about it without seeming invasive, and since Todoroki is naturally silent and unassuming, Aizawa doesn’t want to push or pry too hard.
Dissociation could just be the way he deals with stressful school work.
The third thing is that Todoroki literally never speaks. He’s quiet in the sense that you don’t know he’s there until you see his red hair in the corner of your vision but he’s also completely mute. No one has heard him speak, even though he can cast perfectly. Wordless magic is a skill that so many seventh years strive for, and here comes this eleven year old boy that looks too small and frail to be accepted into Yuuei, wordlessly coasting through all of his classes without breaking a sweat. Aizawa’s read his medical files (even though they’re small and can barely be called files), like he’s read all of his kids’ medical files, and there’s nothing that states Todoroki should have any problems speaking.
That would leave it at either a weird decision the kid made, a mental illness, or, Merlin forbid, an unrecorded injury.
The problem is, is that there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with Todoroki, beyond the obvious. Besides the scar on his face, he’s seems normal, acts normal enough on the surface, and gets good grades. Aizawa has no reason to raise suspicions about the kid and his life but something definitely has to be wrong, and Aizawa is missing it.
He’s talked to Hizashi, Nemuri, and even Nezu about it but they all agree with him; something is wrong but there’s no proof or even signs.
So, Aizawa pushes the heterochromic kid to the back of his mind until he can’t anymore.
It’s the third day after students returned from winter break. There’s still two more days to go before classes start, but Todoroki hasn’t been seen since he returned to the castle three days ago in the early morning.
Midoriya and Shinsou had tried to coax him out of his room but got no response and enlisted their class head for assistance.
And so, Aizawa found himself standing in front of Todoroki’s room door, the master key in hand, at five pm. All the living quarters’ locks at Yuuei have been spelled against any unlocking charms so Aizawa’s master key is the only way to unlock 1-A kids’ door from the outside.
He does so and hears the little click before he swings the door in.
He peers into the room and nothing looks immediately out of the ordinary.
Aizawa steps into the room and feels a wave of magic wash over his body.
And then he sees what truly lies beyond the kid’s doorway.
The room is actually a right mess, and that’s putting it lightly. Clothes and books and papers are strewn across the floor and every available surface. There’s multiple half-filled cups on Todoroki’s main desk, along with spilled ink wells that look weeks old. His wardrobe is open and empty, and there’s photos haphazardly taped on the inside.
He doesn’t appear to have a mattress anymore, as if it had been Evanesco’d ages ago and there’s a rather small pile of blankets in one corner of the room that looks like it’s been Todoroki’s bed substitute.
It doesn’t smell. If anything, it smells concerningly like absolutely nothing, but Aizawa assumes it’s because of some spell.
As he steps deeper into the room, the faint buzzing sound, that’s been faintly present ever since he opened the door, grows in his ears until it sounds like a roar and he has to cast Finite Incantatem to stop the weird spell.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters, stepping over the piles of things on the ground until he reaches Todoroki’s open bathroom door.
It really doesn’t look any better.
There’s more cups, some bowls, quite a few small spoons, and broken shards of both the large mirror that’s supposed to stand above the sink and the full body mirror that’s frame is pushed into a corner. It doesn’t look like there’s any blood anywhere near the glass so he hopes whatever hit it wasn't the kid’s fist.
Aizawa rounds the little corner that leads to the shower and there he finds his target.
The shower is on, though it seems the water is beyond cold. He can feel the biting chill long before he pulls the door open.
“Todoroki.” The kid looks up at him, empty eyes wet, red, and rubbed raw. “May I offer some assistance?”
Todoroki is naked but doesn’t really seem to care.
Aizawa does though, because he can see things that he wishes he couldn’t. “Your friends and I got worried because you haven’t shown up to meals.”
As Todoroki uncurls at the sight of his class head, he reveals injuries and scars, some that look self-inflicted and some that look old and magically inflicted and Aizawa has questions. He doesn’t ask them now though. There seems to be deep bruising covering most of the kid’s back and wrists and fresh wounds on his back. Those require the most immediate attention.
“You’re not gonna institutionalise me, are you?” Todoroki asks, dropping his eyes back to the floor.
It’s a weird question to ask but Aizawa doesn’t think hard about it. He’s more shocked that that is the first thing he’s ever heard Todoroki say. “No. I might have to take you to the hospital wing for physical stuff, but if it can be avoided, it will be. You’re not a danger to yourself or others, are you?”
“No.”
“Good. Then I can guarantee that there will be no issues.” He kneels down and places his wand on the floor, close to the wall. “Now, can I help you up?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll help you dry off and get partially dressed. We’ll tend to your wounds, we’ll see if you need Recovery Girl, and then we’ll go from there. Is that alright?”
“That’s fine.”
Aizawa summons multiple, fresh towels, casts a warming charm on them, and shuts the water off before wrapping the towels around Todoroki’s head, neck, and shoulders. “Can you stand?”
Todoroki shifts, revealing a very broken lower left leg. The broken bone looks like it’s about to tear through his skin. “I think my leg is broken,” he says so casually, without a hint of pain.
“Shit.” Aizawa casts the best Ferula charm he can and Todoroki only scrunches his face up, as if his bone isn’t snapped in half and painful as hell. “Okay. Change of plans. We’ll dry you off, get you somewhat decent, and head straight for the hospital wing.”
“Fine.”
“Can I pick you up?”
“Yeah.”
After managing to wrap another towel around Todoroki’s waist and tucking his wand into his back pocket, Aizawa picks the kid up, and doesn’t like how light he feels.
He walks into the clearest spot in the bathroom and wandlessly conjures up a cushioned bench that he places Todoroki onto. The kid tenses as he touches the seat but makes no sound.
“Do you have clean shorts anywhere?”
“In my trunk. I’m sorry for the mess,” Todoroki mumbles, bringing the towel around his shoulders tighter.
“Don’t worry about it. I think I understand, but we can talk about it later if you like.” Aizawa steps out of the bathroom and searches for Todoroki’s trunk.
He finds it a couple moments later, pressed against a far wall. He opens it and finds some poorly folded clothes, piles of bandage rolls, and a concerning amount of non-perishable food. He doesn’t think too hard about it as he pulls out a loose pair of shorts.
He walks back to the bathroom. “Alright. This’ll be a bit tricky but I need you to hold onto me and stand on your good leg so I can pull these up.” He slips them up onto Todoroki’s legs the best he can before he lets hands grab his left upper arm and hold onto him as the kid stands on his unbroken leg. One of the towels gets tossed aside as Aizawa pulls the shorts up and over Todoroki’s hips.
He sits the kid back down and then he notices a smooth, reddened bump on Todoroki’s left forearm.
“Does your arm hurt?”
Todoroki glances at it and nods. “A lot.” His voice cracks suddenly and Aizawa’s heart starts to twinge with sadness.
“Okay.” He softens his voice. “Let’s get you to Recovery Girl. I’m going to pick you up again.”
The kid offers no resistance as Aizawa scoops him up again, one hand supporting his back, the other under the backs of his knees. As he walks, he hopes he isn’t jostling the kid’s broken bones too much. He left the towel around his shoulders but the kid shivers.
The walk to the hospital wing is uneventful as most of the students and staff are at dinner. When he steps into the hospital wing, Chiyo is immediately fretting over the kid, casting all sorts of spells to locate and pin-point details for all of his injuries.
“Oh, my dear. Put him down on the first bed. He’s in a poor state. My goodness,” she mutters to herself as she disappears into the back room, presumably to search for medical potions.
As gently as he possibly can, Aizawa lays the kid down on the first bed and is surprised when a hand grabs his robe’s sleeve. “What’s wrong?”
“Can you stay?”
Heavy eyes stare at him and Aizawa thinks he can see them trembling. He blinks a few times then nods, reaching to pull a chair closer to the kid’s bedside. “Of course.”
Chiyo practically runs back towards them with multiple potions bottles and a few stray supplies floating behind her. “Is there anything you can tell me about his injuries that might help?” She asks as she sets her supplies on the table beside the bed.
“There’s wounds on my back caused by Diffindo and an old knife. I think it might’ve been cursed.”
Chiyo seems surprised to hear Todoroki speaking. She’d taken care of him only once but heard the multiple rumours about his lack of speech. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do. I’m first going to set your broken tibia, radius, and iliac wing using magic.”
She waves her wand and casts some bone-resetting spell that Aizawa doesn’t know and the awful sounds of bones cracking and shifting past each other in ways they never should fill the room for a split second.
Todoroki doesn’t scream, doesn’t make any sounds, doesn’t even wince. He just looks bored, as if he were sitting in class or something. Though if Aizawa looks closely, he can see a slight crease at the corner of one of Todoroki’s eyebrows that seems to appear whenever he’s in severe pain (which seems to happen a few times too many).
The bones in the kid’s leg and arm are straightened but Aizawa has no idea what’s going on with his pelvic fracture.
Iliac wing fractures usually result in avulsion, meaning the broken bone piece gets pulled from the rest of the body by the muscles and tendons. They’re typically caused by blunt force trauma or some other direct blow to the spot. Aizawa wonders what happened.
“Do you think you have enough energy for my kiss?” Chiyo asks, breaking him from his thoughts.
Todoroki glances down at his broken arm. “Yeah.”
Without another word she picks up his hand and gently kisses the back of it. Todoroki instantly feels the effects and it’s evident, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. He pales a great deal more, which Aizawa thought was impossible, and his eyes get a little droopy.
“I’ll splint your arm and leg and give you a few healing potions but for a few days, you’ll need to lay down and rest so your pelvis can heal. We’ll take a look at the injuries on your back and then you can get some well deserved rest. Alright?”
Todoroki nods his head.
Chiyo casts the Ferula charm on the kid’s injured arm, leg, and apparently sprained ankle. “Please turn your back to me. Aizawa, I need your assistance.”
It seems like the kid struggles a little to move his body but he manages to turn and tugs the towel off of his shoulders.
Chiyo gives Aizawa a look when she finally sees the wounds on his back.
They’re still bleeding, meaning Chiyo’s kiss didn’t do anything for them, meaning they’re caused by magic. The bruises look better though.
Together, they use their hands instead of magic to stitch the kid’s wounds up.
It takes a while, probably about thirty minutes, and Todoroki is slowly dozing off, having to be shaken awake every few minutes despite the needles going in and out of his skin. Chiyo did apply some sort of regional anesthesia but the kid can definitely still feel the needles.
When they’re finished, Aizawa shakes the kid awake one more time to help him pull a shirt on.
“Todoroki, you have what I presume are self-inflicted wounds on your thighs. I’m required to ask you if you’re a danger to yourself,” Chiyo says, levitating her supplies to the back room as she uncorks potions.
“I’m not. I just had a bad break.”
“Alright. I trust you but we’ll need to keep an eye on you for a few days. School policy.”
“That’s okay. I don’t really want to be alone.”
Chiyo’s eyes soften as she hands Todoroki the first potion. “Drink slowly. If you get nauseous, tell me immediately.”
The kid’s hand shakes so Aizawa reaches out to steady the bottle as he sips shimmering, silvery liquid.
“Draught of peace, healing, lung-clearing, blood-replenishing, fever-reducer,” Chiyo reads off the labels as she hands Todoroki the potion bottles. Aizawa levitates the empty bottles over to an empty counter.
Once she seems satisfied, Chiyo hands Aizawa one more bottle of deep purple liquid. “Sleeping draught. I know you want to speak to Todoroki but he needs sleep when you’re done. Todoroki, do you have any questions or anything?”
The kid shakes his head and Chiyo smiles at him before excusing herself to her back room.
Aizawa transfigures the chair into more of an armchair and sits down, Todoroki glancing curiously at him.
“What do you want to ask me?”
“How long has your room been like that?”
The kid’s eyes glaze over for a moment before he sighs. “It started when I got here. I vanished the bed and the mess has just been building up. I couldn’t bring myself to clean it.”
“Can I ask why?”
“The bed? I feel like I don’t deserve it. The mess? I dunno. Maybe it’s familiar? Or I’m just messed up in the head.” Todoroki looks down at his bandaged arm.
“I don’t think you’re messed up. I think you just need some help,” Aizawa says, just as Todoroki stares up at the ceiling.
“I don’t think I can be helped.” He turns his attention to Aizawa. “Can you fight Japan’s new number one Auror-Hero?”
So that’s who this is about.
“I can and I will if it means that you’re safe.”
Todoroki looks scandalised for a moment. And then, it disappears and he purses his lips. “I can’t imagine you would.”
“I would. You know I’d risk my ass to protect my problem children.”
That earns a little smile from Todoroki and Aizawa makes a silent vow to see that smile again as much as possible.
“I do know that, I guess. Thank you, Aizawa.”
Aizawa rolls his eyes but smiles. The more Todoroki opens his mouth, the more Aizawa sees that he’s a crude little thing. “Anytime, kid. Now please, get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up and we can talk more.” Aizawa pats the kid’s uninjured forearm.
“You don’t have to.”
He waves it off. “I do. For my own sake. Just sleep, Todoroki. You’ve earned it.” He uncorks the sleeping draught and hands it over.
Todoroki gulps it down as fast as he can before handing the empty bottle back and laying down. He balls the blankets up against his chest and hugs them close. “Call me Shouto. Please.”
“Alright. Shouto, get some rest.”
Shouto’s eyes flutter shut and Aizawa watches the rising and falling of his chest long after it levels out and slows.
He summons a pen and parchment and settles into the armchair with a sigh.
He has a lot of people to write to.