Chapter Text
In eight months he proved himself many things- number two at the sports festival, rebellious, dependable, reckless, strong, capable, remedial, a failure. He didn’t care what category he was put in, not really. He knew most of the girls put him in the ‘pretty boy’ category for reasons completely beyond his comprehension, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was something. Whether or not he agreed with it, whether or not he even found it a meaningful way to describe him (because what did being pretty have to do with being a hero he didn’t know), at least it was something he was on his own. And eight months after school starts, he’s reminded again of everything he tries so hard not to be.
It's mid-December, he and Bakugo have already finished their remedial classes and now everyone is getting ready for exams and winter holidays. Most of the class is talking about their plans, all excited to spend time at home for the break, to see their families again. While Mineta was not his, or to his knowledge anyone else’s, favorite person, even Shouto couldn’t fault the boy for what came out of his mouth.
“I bet it must be nice for you, huh Todoroki?”
Mismatched eyes abandoned the window, his gaze previously on the dark clouds in the sky waiting for the snow to start, instead giving his classmates his attention, finally, realizing how much conversation he missed. “What?” he asked, head tilted slightly as the rest of the class began to watch him in anticipation. It was a lot of attention he neither enjoyed nor was used to.
“Going home for break,” Mineta sighed as though it were obvious what he was talking about. Shouto supposed it was, had he been paying attention. “I bet it’s a lot nicer than living in the dorms.”
“I like the dorms,” he responded, stoic expression plastered to his face as always.
“We all like the dorms,” Uraraka assured him with a bright smile, “but it will be so nice going back to our families, won’t it? I can’t wait to see my parents again!”
“And you’re Endeavor’s son,” Mineta added, “so it must be nice for you.”
Eight months of creating a name for himself, and here he was, reminded once again that he would always be ‘Endeavor’s son’ first and foremost. Shouto let a hand fall under his desk, gripping his knee tight enough his knuckles turned white, grounding himself with bruising fingers so that his expression remained as cool as ever. Nobody knew, nobody should know, and he wouldn’t allow himself to falter.
“I suppose,” he agreed, giving enough of a response to satisfy his classmates so that they turned their attention to each other again. Shouto allowed his gaze to return to the window, but his mind was far away from the snow now.
He wasn’t the only child of a hero in their class- Iida, as well, held that title. While his family was never as high ranking as Shouto’s father, they were still well established in their lineage as heroes, enough that the name was recognizable by their classmates. Especially when Iida did everything he could to attach himself to his family name.
Maybe his classmates assumed he was like their class representative (who held that title first and foremost before the title of being a hero’s son); maybe they assumed Shouto wanted everything to do with his father, despite the months of attempting to detach himself from the Endeavor name. For years before UA he refused to use his fire in combat, even against the man who gave it to him. While that changed after the sports festival, he tendencies still leaned toward his right side, enough that he felt his presence as a hero-to-be was objectively different than Endeavor’s. Perhaps he could ask Midoriya for better insight on the matter; the boy was obsessed with this kind of thing.
Aizawa entered the class shortly after his contribution to the conversation, snapping Shouto’s thoughts from his father, thankfully sparing the boy’s sanity for now. The perpetually exhausted man begins his lecture to the class on the procedure for their final exams for the semester, both written and practical. While the written exams are as straightforward as they were before, the shocking part was that the practical exam was explained upfront.
A combination exam with Class B- a mock rescue. Teams of four, two from each class, would take turns rescuing each other. While both sides were allowed to use their quirks, they were going to be judged more on their willingness to work with others and be efficient and safe with their quirks in given scenarios.
“There will be times, as heroes, that your quirk isn’t fit to a situation. It’s important to know how to work with other heroes you don’t know as well, even if that means not being the hero in the situation,” their teacher explained. He continued on, but he focused more on grading criteria for various parts of all their exams, and what would happen to those who failed. Shouto allowed his mind to wander briefly during this part.
He couldn’t help but feel like he and Bakugo were the targets of this semester’s practical exam. No one else in their year failed the provisional licensing exam except those two, and teamwork was definitely the reason for it. While they improved greatly in their remedial courses, Shouto still felt like everyone else thought it wasn’t enough. When he wasn’t Endeavor’s son he would always be ‘rebellious, reckless, remedial, failure, unsightly’.
Unsightly.
There was a thought he didn’t allow himself in a while; even his nightmares gave him a reprieve from that specific scenario. His fingers subconsciously grazed the edges of his scar, the permanent reminder he was given of how he, Todoroki Shouto, would always be Endeavor’s unsightly masterpiece (because, behind closed doors, he couldn’t think of a time his father ever called him ‘son’).
“Todoroki?”
Shouto broke out of his daze to meet with bright green eyes staring directly into his blue and grey ones. He blinked slowly, wondering what his friend was doing, standing in front of him, while Aizawa was lecturing about the exams.
Except, when glancing around, he noticed that Aizawa was no longer lecturing about the exams- or anything, for that matter. In the few minutes he allowed his mind to wander, he realized he went through four classes, and Midoriya was now waiting for him to pack up so they could go to the lunchroom together. Uraraka, Iida, and Asui were standing by the door, looking back at him expectantly as well, while the rest of the class was already gone.
“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled out quickly, shoving everything into his bag haphazardly as he stood up to join the others.
“Are you alright, Todoroki?” Midoriya asked him as the group headed out of the classroom. “You seemed a little out of it.”
“Are you getting enough sleep?” Iida interjected, his hand starting its classic chopping motions when the lecture began. “It’s important as hero students to get at least eight hours of sleep.”
“I’m fine,” Shouto reassured him as he realized he couldn’t recall the last time he had a real night of sleep.
While he would doze off in the common room during movie nights and other communal gatherings he was dragged to, sleeping in his room at night wasn’t something that happened very often, his mind acutely attuned to every noise those around him made. Just as he would begin to drift off, a quiet tapping of feet in the halls or rooms near him would have him jolting up, waiting for the inevitable rage that followed from Endeavor. Whatever made the man angry enough to visit Shouto so late at night would only be exacerbated if he had to forcefully wake his son up. A true hero would never let his guard down like that, even in his own room, or so Endeavor would tell him.
When he did manage to sleep, his mind finally accepting there was no hellfire hero around to torment him while at the dorms, Shouto was usually rewarded with nightmares. Thankfully, he had the foresight (experience) to make sure his bedding was all fireproof, although there were a few mornings when Sero or Sato or Bakugo would complain about the AC being too strong the previous night. These nights were either few enough that nobody connected the dots, or the others were too forgiving and chose not to implicate Shouto for this.
The others let their conversation drift back to their upcoming vacations again, even Iida placing aside concern for the impending exams in favor of discussing their family holiday traditions. Shouto half-listened, keeping just enough focus to know if he needed to chime in (he never did) as he grabbed his typical lunch.
“We should all go to the mall together!” Uraraka declared as they all settled into their usual table. “I’m going to miss you guys too much if we don’t do something over the break.”
“I’m super busy before Christmas, kero,” Asui explains, “but I don’t have anything going on afterward.”
“It’s important for me to spend time with my family, but I should also be free afterward,” Iida adds. “Perhaps we should invite the whole class to catch up after seeing our families?”
The others delve into a loud chorus of agreement with Iida, and Shouto finds himself lucky that they haven’t turned their attention to him yet. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go- the opposite really. Nothing seemed more exciting than spending time with his friends and away from his house during the break, but inevitably it depended on Endeavor’s training schedule. While the dorms were a blessing to Shouto, the limited time at his house training with the number one hero meant that Endeavor would want to make up for lost time in their two-week break. The man didn’t take much time off, but Shouto was prepared to suddenly find his father home more often than before.
“You’re coming too, right, Todoroki?” Midoriya looked at him with large, hopeful eyes, and Shouto fought himself inwardly.
He didn’t want to disappoint his best friend but telling them it depended on his training schedule seemed unfit for the conversation. He wished he was more like his friends or his siblings, they always knew what to say. Even his other classmates always knew what to say in their own way- whether Mineta being perverted, Bakugo yelling, or Tokoyami spouting poetic words he didn’t fully understand, at least their point was made.
“I…” he muttered uselessly, until Asui saved him.
“Unless you’re busy with family stuff, kero,” she offers kindly. “I’m sure it’s hard when your dad is the number one hero.”
“I’ll find out,” Shouto nods, trying to be thankful for the excuse, rather than uncomfortable that he was again being referred to by his father.
He was spared from further inquisition through the rest of lunch as the others began making more plans. It seemed like they would go to the mall the day after Christmas, and Shouto found himself longing to be there.
It was strange going from isolation from everyone except his father to suddenly having friends. His siblings, Fuyumi and Natsuo at least, both had many friends growing up, even if they never came by the house (the only ones who visited were his tutors and other heroes his father would have him train with). Counting family, he supposed his first friend was his mother and his second friend was Midoriya. He wondered if his siblings considered him a friend- probably not, they barely talked unless Fuyumi was inviting them over for dinner. She wanted their family to be ‘normal’, but that hope was shattered the day Shouto was born.
He didn’t have a chance to allow his thoughts drag him further, which was good because he couldn’t afford for his friends to worry about him spacing out again. He stood up and followed them out of the lunchroom. He glanced at his phone as he made his way to the classroom and saw a text from the last person he wanted to hear from.
Old Man
[Shouto, I am calling tonight. I expect you to answer.]
The nervous pit in his stomach grew. Normally he would ignore his father’s calls, but so soon to a break… it wasn’t safe. He had to answer, but he knew nothing good could come of this.