Chapter Text
Aizawa stared at the phone buzzing insistently on his bedside table. Glancing at the screen, he saw that the time was barely after nine o’clock. It was far too early to be awake.
Beside him, Hizashi stirred, mumbling something in his sleep.
Whatever the damn thing was ringing for, he knew it was about to ruin his weekend. The caller ID, however, brooked no argument. However, this was, he decided, the last time he allowed students off campus.
Grudgingly, he picked up the offending device, telling himself it was only to shut the damn thing up. Sliding out of bed, he went out of the room and sat down in his office, where a stack of papers waited for him to grade by Monday.
His weekend was not looking good.
“What,” he greeted the caller, allowing all of his sleep-deprived anger to flatten his voice.
“Aizawa."
He was tempted, for a moment, to deny it. God knows Hizashi had answered his phone for him any number of times, insatiably nosy (lovable) annoyance that he was.
“Yes, that is this number, much as I may regret it. I swear to god, Endeavor, if this involves a student I am hanging up right now.”
“It’s Shouto.”
Of course it was, Aizawa thought. Even given that Endeavor was currently training both his son and two of his students- something that Aizawa had been somewhat reluctant to allow, but gave in at the thought that if anyone could even attempt to control Bakugou, it was probably Endeavor- he knew that the no.1 hero would never be calling him for anyone except his own son.
Aizawa resisted the urge to pound his head into the desk. He was already only seconds away from expelling the problem child at any given moment, but Shouto was becoming dangerously close to overtaking that place.
Perhaps he should just expel all three of them, and leave Endeavor to take care of their training. After all, Shouto and Katsuki’s fight had ended with them both unconscious and Katsuki having be physically restrained on the podium. Since both boys were apparently still alive (and he really hoped this call wasn’t to change that, because the paperwork to deal with it was a bitch) he assumed that Endeavor was doing a better job than the entire UA faculty, and he for one would be only to happy to foister them off on someone else.
The only reason he did not hang up immediately was the note of something that he could only describe as concern from the hero.
“What the hell has he done. No, actually, I don’t care. I signed his permission to leave campus. As long as he isn’t dead or seriously injured, he’s your problem.”
There was a long pause from the other end of the line, and what sounded like shuffling. Unless Aizawa was hearing things, he also caught the sound of a child’s breathing hitching as though holding back tears, a noise he was dangerously familiar with now as Eri’s caretaker.
“I’m assuming he is neither, Endeavor?” he asked, bored voice barely rising to a question.
“No. Physically he seems to be well. But he will not be returning to school on Monday,” came the reply, eventually.
“Alright. I’ll take your word for it if he isn’t sick, but regardless I’ll need some kind of note if he’s going to be off for more than three days. And it’s up to students to catch up on any work they miss, because I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.”
“He isn’t ill. There was a quirk attack, and he was hit.”
Aizawa sighed deeply. He let his head fall down on the table, hoping the thick stack of papers he was supposed to spend the day grading was enough to muffle the sound.
“He has had his license for TWO. DAYS. What kind of trouble could he possibly have got himself in to so quickly? I don’t give a damn if he’s your son, if he’s going to be so reckless then he can hand it back in immediately.”
“There was, so I understand, a group of them. The quirk he was hit with left him unable to fight, even with his training.”
Now Endeavor sounded more like his usual self, although Aizawa could still tell that the temperamental man was making a huge effort to regulate his voice.
He said as much to him. “It’s Saturday, the kid just got his hero license, and I, mistakenly, it seems, gave him permission to leave the dorms to spend the weekend at home. He should be spending his weekend celebrating that with his friends’ (he couldn’t help but dig at that, maliciously), ‘but he gave his reason as wanting to train with you. Frankly, the type of training he has gone through during his childhood would normally be grounds for me to sign custody papers immediately. However, he seems willing to give you a chance. Now, tell me. Your son has just been, from your words, caught up in and hit by a villain attack. Yet you sound strangely calm about this. What’s wrong.”
There was another long pause, then a sigh, as though the man was trying to find his words carefully.
“I...apologise. I know I have been...perhaps harsh on Shouto, but I believed it was for the best. He needs to live up to his legacy, and he can only do that by being the best.”
Another pause.
“Just get to the damn point already. What kind of quirk are we talking about? If you need to bring him here so recovery girl can look at him, I can make sure no-one sees a thing, if you’re so worried about it. If not, I don’t see what your problem is.”
“That won’t be necessary. As I said, he isn’t injured, or unwell.”
“Then. What. Is. It,” Aizawa ground out.
Endeavor sighed, and Aizawa could picture him struggling to force the words out. Good grief, what kind of quirk could make even the no.1 hero this reluctant?
Aizawa frowned, feeling a spark of worry.
“Age regression,” Endeavor finally replied. His normally booming voice was almost a whisper, in his terms.
Aizawa sighed in a mixture of annoyance and relief. Was that it?
It wasn’t a particularly common quirk, but one that was well documented. There were various forms, ranging from mental regression to actual infantilisation. Eri’s quirk could theoretically return someone to true infancy, but Aizawa would sooner die himself than allow her to try.
It was embarrassing, sure, more so with mental regression, but most people simply shut themselves away until it wore off, with a family member of friend helping them through it. There were even shops dedicated to it where people could buy clothing and supplies short-term and return them once it wore off, no questions asked.
He assumed from Endeavor’s words that the user must have been relatively strong, if he thought that it was likely to outlast the weekend. He made a note of it, knowing he was required to alert principal Nedzu, who would then decide whether to let the other teachers know or simply explain that a student of theirs would be absent.
“Well, that sucks for him. But I fail to see your problem. Shouto is your son. I’m assuming you managed to keep him alive for the last 16 years, so however badly you did it, you can manage a week. Hire a babysitter if it’s that much of a problem, or get your agency lackies to look after him. I don’t care. Just make sure he catches up with the work he misses. Other than that, I really don’t see why it matters. Hell, if you’re trying to be a better father, I’d even say that this is a perfect opportunity for you.”
A professional educator probably wasn’t supposed to speak to his charges’ parents in such a way, but hey. It was early, he was tired, and by god did Todoroki Enji need to hear it from someone. With all the shit Shouto had gone through during his short life, it was about damned time his father took responsibility for it, without hiding behind the (quite literal) mantle of the Flame Hero.
The other end of the line was silent for a long time.
“It is only because I am trying to rectify the mistakes of the past that I will not respond to that, Aizawa,” Endeavor growled.
Aizawa grinned his usual Cheshire smile, for once wishing the man could actually see him.
“I’m terrified,” he said flatly. “Now, tell me you at least have the person responsible in custody. I don’t need to deal with more of this happening.”
“...Tsukauchi is here. I’ve told him to keep quiet about it. Luckily, the area was almost deserted. I don’t think Shouto was seen.”
Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t think this may have been a targeted attack, then?”
“I don’t think so. This area is quiet anyway. It being early morning, not many people were around. I don’t see how anyone could have known my son would be out of the dorms. In this case, I think he may simply have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I will make sure to teach him about being constantly aware in future.”
“He’s well enough aware of it. Look, I’m aware that this might not be a great time for this to happen, but it’s hardly disastrous. If anything, he was in the right place for it. Most people aren’t so lucky as to be hit on the way to their own homes. If he was in the dorms, I and the staff would have to be responsible for him, not to mention dealing with the rest of the class. Have him until it wears off, and I don’t have to tell the kids anything. I’ll just say he got hit by a quirk and needed to recover at home. I can’t promise the problem child won’t draw his own conclusions though.”
“Yes. He is annoyingly perceptive,” Endeavor stated.
“mmm,” was Aizawa’s only reply. “Well, if that’s all, I have a stack of papers to grade. Have a fun week. In the unlikely event you need anything, don’t hesitate not to contact me. Bye.”
He hung up before the man could get another word in and stared down at the pile of papers in front of him.
Hizashi chose that moment to enter the room. Aizawa looked up at his husband wearing pink pyjamas and his long blond hair hanging around his shoulders. He held two mugs of tea, one of which he placed in front of Aizawa.
“So what’s up? That was an early call for the weekend. One of the kids up to something?”
“Yeah. That was Endeavor,” he said.
Hizashi raised an eyebrow. “He called you?”
Aizawa nodded wearily. “Apparently Shouto got hit by a quirk attack on his way over to his house.” He shook his head, reaching for the mug and inhaling the scent.
“Ooh, rough. Didn’t he and Bakugou only get their licenses a few days ago?” Hizashi asked, eyes wide from above his own mug.
Aizawa nodded again. “Two days. Two days and he goes and gets himself in trouble.”
“Is he ok though? He’s not hurt? Do we need to send recovery girl over?”
Aizawa looked over at his husband and wondered, not for the first time, how he managed to fall in love with such a kind, caring hero. Opposites really did attract, it seemed.
He gave him a fond smile, or as near as he could get. “You really do care about the kids, don’t you?”
Hizashi gave him a mock-offended glare. “Yes, I care about the kids. Even the problem ones. They’re the heroes of the future and it’s up to us to nurture them.”
“Even the problem ones?” Aizawa repeated, flatly.
The blond grinned at him. “Especially the problem ones. After all, I deal with you. Nothing comes close to that.”
Aizawa glared at him for that.
Hizashi ignored him. “So. What’d he get hit with? It can’t be too bad or even you would be freaking out.”
“Age regression. From Endeavor’s attitude, I’d say he’s probably around 4 or 5 now.”
Hizashi looked confused. “How would you know?”
Aizawa ran a hand through his hair. “Because he sounded flustered, almost. And because I could hear Shouto breathing, and he sounded like a child. And if that wasn’t enough, you and I have both read Shouto’s file. He got that scar on his face from his mother in an accident when he was four years old, remember? I’m betting the sight is bringing back some pretty bad memories for the no.1 pro hero.”
Hizashi drew a slow breath between his teeth. As teachers, they were allowed access to their student’s medical files if deemed necessary. It hadn’t taken a genius for both Aizawa and Hizashi to notice Shouto’s bruises during training, as well as his tendency to flinch whenever the voice-quirk teacher raised his voice, and after comparing notes they had come to the same conclusion. Recovery Girl had then confirmed their suspicions after too many times of healing him, and at that point Aizawa decided enough was enough. The truth then came from the boy himself, after asking permission to leave campus occasionally to visit his mother.
The only reason Aizawa hadn’t immediately instigated custody proceedings, as well as a lawsuit, was because of the boy’s own testimony that his father was aware of his faults and wished to rectify them. It had taken calls to his mother and sister to state that they would refuse to testify, as well as Fuyumi’s affirmation that Endeavor was indeed trying to redeem himself, and Aizawa had reluctantly backed down.
It didn’t mean that he had, in any way, let the matter go. He had never liked the flame hero, and as far as he was concerned, anything that would topple him from the no.1 perch was a good thing.
Hizashi broke him out of his slightly murderous train of thought. “What with the media backlash on him right now, he’s going to want to keep a lower profile for a while. If this gives him a chance to redeem himself in Shouto’s eyes, even just a little, then isn’t it worth it?”
Aizawa shrugged. “That’s what I’m hoping. I still don’t trust him as far as I could throw him’-
“That’s not saying much, babe, you could throw him across the sports arena and you know it,” Hizashi pointed out.
Aizawa glared at him, more fiercely this time. ‘-that being said, I don’t envy him the next week though.”
Hizashi nodded in agreement. “Well, speaking of, I know another little listener who should probably be awake by now. I’m making pancakes for breakfast, so come through when you’re ready.”
Saying that, he dropped a kiss on Aizawa’s hair and left the room to go and wake Eri. She had been quite slow to open to Hizashi, which wasn’t surprising given his loud and often abrasive attitude, but the man had the patience of a saint, and now, after several months, the two were as thick as thieves. Hizashi spoiled her terribly, and gave her everything she asked for.
He frequently walked in to the two communicating entirely in silence, as Hizashi had begun to teach her sigh language. He had learnt it himself as a teen, for when his own quirk made the world too loud, and the little girl had jumped at the opportunity to be able to communicate during the times she couldn’t talk, when the world got too much and she retreated into herself still not quite believing she was saved.
Hitoshi, of course, had no such restrictions. Luckily, he knew when not to push his luck, and for the times he didn’t Aizawa had no qualms in trussing him up with his capture weapon and leaving him until the teen changed his mind. He was spending more and more time at the dorms now, a fact that Aizawa regarded with a mixture of relief and exasperation, because the more kids there were in any space, the more trouble there was and the more work he would undoubtedly have.
The smell of pancakes drifted through from the kitchen, along with the sound of Hizashi singing softly, a tiny voice joining in occasionally. Aizawa gave a long glance at the stack of papers, glaring, then decided they could wait.
Enji would find a way to deal with his family for a week. Standing in the doorway of the kitchen and watching the sight of his husband swaying gently with their daughter in his arms as he cooked them all breakfast, Aizawa couldn't envy him less.