Despite his exhaustion, he didn't sleep last night. Not even after Bakugo hopped back down the railing and onto his own floor. Shouto stood out on his balcony for hours, just watching the traffic of Shizuoka bleed into their end of the area, the stars slowly fading as the sky turned purple and then blue, the start of a day Shouto already dreaded.

He didn't know why he dreaded it, at first. Maybe starting something new and having to finish it has become too much. Like the grudge with his father. Shouto is so tired from being angry with him all the time. But it's not like he can control the feeling.

Shouto dreaded the day early on, without even knowing what was waiting for him.

After a long night, Shouto got dressed, put together his schoolwork, took two painkillers, skipped breakfast, and walked to school with a way too loud Kaminari and Mineta.

He was greeted with:

"We'll be holding over-the-phone parent meetings, to talk about grades and visits."

Aizawa doesn't look very enthusiastic about it, pointedly avoiding Shouto's stare.

While Iida takes role, Shouto thinks of excuses to get out of visiting Endeavor. Maybe he can say that since Endeavor is a busy man, he'd rather be at the dorms than alone at his house.

But then Fuyumi might speak up, tell Shouto he should come home.

Or Natsu might want to hang out, which, as nice as it sounds, is not Shouto's idea of a good time.

Maybe Shouto can camp out with mom and the nurses at the hospital. They've always voiced how they like Shouto.

But that sounds like it's not allowed.

"Todoroki."

Shouto raises his hand, "Here."

Iida nods, sharing a look with Midoriya, and then Uraraka, before looking back to his sheet, "Yaoyorozu."

"Here."

"Thank you. Sensei..."

Shouto drifts in and out of class. He recognizes that he's supposed to work in their heroics book. He also recognizes that his pencil is in his hand but unmoving. His eyes feel stuck on the front of his desk, glued there by fear and hope that everything will stop.

After a while, Satou stands and leaves his desk, his papers and bag still there. Which could only mean Shouto is next. That's bad. He needs to come up with a lie about home.

But Aizawa knows, and he knows which lies were lies and which were not. He'll vouch for Shouto.

Not without causing uproar. The Todoroki family isn't exactly quiet. Not the head of it, anyway. There's only one secret they can keep and they keep it by pretending nothing ever happened.

"Todoroki," Shouto jolts out of his head, Satou's hand on his shoulder. "Uh... sorry. It's just that," he looks around nervously, retracting his hand, "Sensei says you can go in."

Shouto exhales deeply, pretending he can ignore the stares of his classmates. "Thanks," he mutters, standing from his seat and pushing his chair in.

As expected, Aizawa is very knowing of the predicament. He clears his throat and nods to the seat in front of him. "I know what I said about the home visits and needing permission, but Nedzu changed some things. There's something about maintenance in 1-B's dorm building and the third years needing extra cleanup in a dorm room... it just worked out differently than any of us had planned."

Shouto sits, hands fisted on his knees, "So... everyone is going home, then?"

Aizawa shakes his head, "Fortunately, Nedzu's decision was partially made upon guilt," he cringes, and Shouto leans forward to listen more intently. "The two buildings that need to be cleaned out or fixed will be going home. Nedzu just felt bad for the rest of you, so this winter break, you all can leave as you please, as long as your parents call beforehand."

"Oh," Shouto says, a low hum of understanding. He doesn't have to come home.

That's the most relieving news he's heard in months.

"Unfortunately, I still have to call your guardian to talk about grades and progression." Aizawa picks up the school phone, starting to dial a number, Endeavor's number. "You won't have to say much, if it's any comfort."

Shouto can only nod, that headache he's been a host to for days, growing. He thinks that maybe he should sleep better, or at all. Losing an entire night is certainly taking its toll.

After a few rings which give Shouto hope that Endeavor might not answer, a terrifying, all-consuming voice spreads through Shouto's senses like wildfire. It gives him goosebumps and makes him overheat but he's still so cold and he fixes his posture. Endeavor hates when he slouches. There's a moment of remembrance that Aizawa is here, and watching, and shame spreads on Shouto's skin.

"Is Shouto okay?"

Aizawa clears his throat for the second time that meeting, and Shouto remembers that he's just a human too. Still young. This must be as terrifying for him as it is for Shouto.

"Yes, your son is fine. I'm calling-"

"Then I don't understand what the purpose of calling is. Send an email as you always do." He's all heated intimidation, a heatwave of a person trying to tell Shouto's teacher off.

"I was getting to that, Todoroki. I've been told to inform you that this winter break, Shouto, along with his classmates, will be allowed out of the dorms as long as you call beforehand." Aizawa pauses, "This free-reign will end on the 20th of December. If Shouto wishes, he can stay at your place of residence or here at the dorms."

Endeavor clears his throat, voice smaller than before, "Is he within hearing range."

Aizawa looks up from a form on his desk, catching Shouto's eyes with slight hesitance. "He... yes he is here."

There's a moment of pure silence before Endeavor speaks again. "I'd like to speak with him alone."

Shouto shakes his head to Aizawa, who's already explaining away. "This isn't a time for personal conversations, Todoroki. I still have another family to call and forms to read over. With a limited schedule like mine, and one as limited as yours, I'd suggest you talk to him in your own time."

Shouto feels his shoulders relax. Aizawa is a lifesaver.

"Fine. I understand the conditions regarding UA's upcoming break," he says, and both Shouto and Aizawa hear the reluctance in his voice. "How is he in class?"

Shouto swallows, thinking off every answer he's second-guessed or doubted in the last month. He got a math question wrong in Ectoplasm's, that's cause for concern. Third place in a mock rescue. Did Bakugo get caught sneaking up the balcony this morning? Will Aizawa reveal that to Endeavor?

"He's near top. He's not first in a few subjects, but he's got consistent A's and high scores on tests." Aizawa flips through a Manila folder. "As for his practical training, his judgement is still superior to most in his grade and even the grade above. Still defiant on some topics," Aizawa sends a glare to Shouto, and Shouto thinks of all the times he's spoken out against Aizawa. Only a few, and he's kept mild-mannered on each.

"Besides that, he's doing great," he concludes, closing the folder. "You should be proud, Endeavor."

Endeavor hums, "I am. Shouto?"

His throat tightens, as if forcing silence from his body. "Yes?"

"You're doing very well. It'd be great if you'd visit during your break, but don't feel pressured to." He can hear the hesitance in Endeavor's usually fiery voice. "You're always welcome home, son."

Shouto can't hold back a scoff, even past the tightness in his throat. "Don't call me that. And I'm not coming home."

He wants to say something backhanded about their past, or maybe about how Aizawa knows and how Shouto could tell the whole world.

He shuts his mouth before he can commit verbal suicide.

"Okay. That's fine," he pauses, sighing, "Shouto. You are still welcome, though."

Shouto wants to send an attack of flame through the phone, melting Endeavor's mouth shut, burning him into silence just like he used to do to Shouto.

"Email or call with any questions, Endeavor," Aizawa says, mouth pulled into a flat line. "Until then, stay safe."

"Thank you, Eraserhead. Goodbye, Shouto."

Shouto doesn't even offer a grunt.

During class, Shouto isn't exactly sure what they're doing.

Actually, he's not sure how he even got to his seat, when he pulled out his writing materials, for any of his classes. The world has been sort of foggy lately, he blames it in on his lack of sleep. Hopefully.

"Todoroki? Feeling alright?"

Shouto looks to his right, Midoriya looking at him with begging eyes. It's clear he doesn't just want an answer, he wants proof and confirmation.

Shouto can't give him any of that, so he resigns to nodding. He reaches for his chopsticks, only to find that they aren't there. None of his food is.

"I just wanted to make sure that you're okay."

Shouto huffs out in slight annoyance that Midoriya's being relentless with the questions, and that he hasn't gotten his food yet.

"But please..."

"Stop it."

"Todoroki? What are you looking for?"

Shouto changes his glare to Midoriya, "Would you shut up for two seconds? Where's my food?"

It's with concern that he watches Midoriya's pale skin and green hair melt into red and white. A ponytail swings from its band as Fuyumi turns around, a tray of plain soba noodles in her hands. "Here Shouto," Fuyumi smiles, and Shouto's heart ascends. She's happy, things are as they should be.

Shouto gives a childlike smile as he holds his chopsticks, they're all too short for his liking, but he still grips a small amount of noodles in them, lifting them to his mouth.

Before they touch his lips, "Don't eat that, Shouto."

Those stupid, venomous words.

Fuyumi's still smiling, giving her signature head tilt. "Don't eat it, it's not healthy."

Shouto looks down at the food in the tray, a pile of ash sitting idly there. His chopsticks are on fire, which is terrifying considering they were in his right hand.

"I'm hungry..."

"Don't!"

"I told you this would happen..."

Shouto looks up to Fuyumi's glasses get away!, the way they're melting off of her face. Fire licks at her shoulders and chin, one...two...three... four... at her collarbones. It's melting away her shirt and Shouto tries to rip his head away before he sees something indecent. He's paralyzed you can't do this to him, head unmoving despite his desperation. I'm sorry, mommy's sorry Instead of Fuyumi, Endeavor is hiding underneath the melting skin. Flames eating away at the remaining casual wear Fuyumi always dons.

Underneath Fuyumi's skin, is navy colored spandex and molten red accents. Fire and fire and fire and fire and fire.

"Let go of him!"

"Moronic-"

"Sorry, so sorry. Mommy didn't mean it-"

"To hurt you at such an important-"

"...you. You made her hurt me."

"...Todoroki?"

Shouto lifts his head from the surface it's laying on, the world spinning on the thread it hangs off. It's hot. He's surrounded. There are too many silhouettes surrounding him and god it's hot.

"Todoroki, are you okay? What's the matter?"

Shouto snaps his neck to look at Fuyumi... not Fuyumi. Yaoyorozu. He's in class.

"Dude," a boyish voice calls, "Do you need some water? You look kind of pale..."

"Sato, don't say that! You'll make him insecure."

"Todoroki, is something the matter?"

"Was he sleeping just now? During the lecture?"

Shouto's lost track of all of the voices and their owners, but he wants every last one of them to give him a second of silence. He just needs to catch up with the world for a second. His mind feels like it's banging on the walls of his skull prison, banging and banging and everyone's talking still and the headache and the cuts and

"Todoroki," a deep, male voice says. Shouto is able to look upwards to the tall, terrifying form of his father. "Todoroki, if it's true you were sleeping in my class then you'll have to attend detention after school."

Shouto nods, tears welling up in his eyes. Father's worse than any villain. His attacks are so personal, the punishments too harsh.

"Do you understand?"

Shouto stays still, unsure of what Endeavor wants. No. He knows he just wants to talk. And train. And beat and scar and kick and throw and drown and burn and burn and burn

Endeavor grabs Shouto's wrist, some sort of yell in his throat as he does so. Shouto can't hear. Not over the rushing of ice in his veins and the suppressing of fire that he hadn't realized would be so perfect.

It's not hot anymore.

In an instant, a thin layer of ice has spread all around him, the floor, up the walls and on the ceiling.

"T-T-Todoroki? It's s-so cold."

It's perfect. The lava that is his blood has cooled and all his calm. Everything is as it should be.

"Young man, unfreeze this classroom right now."

Shouto looks up to the shivering, smaller than usual man. His arm is frozen to Shouto's, fist circling his wrist. It's painful and hard, like cement.

Because that's Cementoss, and not father that he just froze.

And he's in modern lit, not the dojo back home.

He feels very nauseous.

Heat spreads throughout the room, a subtle warmth that melts the ice. He lets the heat linger until it's all been evaporated and his lungs feel on fire and his skin is melting.

But when he looks to his sleeves, he's fine, and Cementoss is still grabbing him. It only makes his breathing quicken, paired with the humiliation of freezing the classroom mid-lecture. All of his classmates are looking at him and it's so, so embarrassing.

He's gonna be sick.

Shouto stands, speed walking out the door despite the demands coming from Cementoss. He hears more yelling from his place down the hall, Cementoss's voice still.

He's glad nobody else is in the bathroom when he gets there, as he rushes to a toilet and to his knees. Saliva collects in his mouth, humiliation rising thickly to his throat and sending his stomach on a frenzy of repulsion. He lurches forward, letting the contents of his stomach push out into cold water.

Faintly, past his own retching, he can hear voices. He only understands snatches of the conversation, stomach still curdling. Every time he thinks he's done more shoots out of him and splashes into the porcelain below.

Comfortingly, he feels a warm hand on his back, rubbing up and down his spine. It quells some of the nausea, but Shouto still retches, lurching forward once again. He doesn't even remember eating breakfast. He just knows that right now, he's breathing way too quickly and he's too dehydrated and there are classmates behind him watching him vomit his guts out.

"Todoroki, just breathe."

Shouto can listen to a voice like that. Calm and worry mixing perfectly. Midoriya's here, and it's the best feeling he's had for a while.

"Tell him not to fight it!" A female voice comes from outside of the bathroom, and Midroiya offers a minuscule laugh.

"Uraraka says 'don't fight it.'"

Shouto's stopped the chain of vomiting, stomach finally a calm sea of nothingness. Midoriya is still next to him, rubbing his back and uncaring of the acrid smell of Shouto's puke, or the disgusting bathroom floor they're both victim to. Shouto still isn't breathing as slow as he thinks he should be, he knows he's not.

"Todoroki, you're still at UA, if it makes you feel any better."

"He knows that, dumbass. How do you think he navigated here all by himself?" Another figure comes to stand near Shouto, "IcyHot, you done puking your guts out?"

Shouto's breath stutters in an attempt to slow, it works, of only slightly. He nods his head to Bakugo's question, and then there are hands underneath his left arm, pulling him up and away from the stall. Shouto walks with Bakugo, leaning on him for support. His legs feel weak, he barely registers the toilet flushing, being leaned over a sink and water being splashed up to his face.

"Lucky he didn't get sick all over himself."

Shouto agrees, pulling away from the sink. As Bakugo walks him out into the hall and to the nurse's office, he hears whispers of his classmates', and a reassuring "Just breathe, Todoroki, ignore the rest of it," from Bakugo.

Shouto isn't exactly sure what's going on, but he knows he's at least in good hands.