***WARNING: This chapter contains descriptive depictions of past child abuse for the character. These depictions are fictitious, but may included triggering language and/or visuals that may be offensive to the reader. Please continue at your own discretion.***

"G'raaah! N'yaaah!"

Tossing in his bed, Todoroki began to wail as he thrashed about. Several flames shot up about three feet – raging with intensity and color. And they were not lowering.

This brought both Aizawa and Midoriya to their feet. The green-haired teen's eyes expanded.

"Wh-what's going on?!"

"Not sure," Aizawa replied, forcing Midoriya behind him, "But it can't be good."

Midoriya's panicked green eyes wildly darted back and forth. Everywhere he looked, the stream of colors lashed out at him and his teacher. The flames fanned out along Todoroki's arm, slowly moving down his torso. As he watched, the freckled young hero squinted.

"Wait," he commentated, "Todoroki's bed. It's… fire-proof?"

Aizawa turned, his shoulders barreled to defend his student from the threat.

"The bed might be," he curtailed, "But Heights Alliance isn't."

Midoriya's scratchy throat was now becoming drier. The room was taking on an ashy smell, with flits of smog poking up from Todoroki's arm. His poor classmate… He was still trouncing. Still crying out in distress.

"Y-yaaa'aaah!—" There was a hoarseness to his curdled cries.

Back and forth, his burning head twisted. Clearly, in his unconscious state, his mind was far from rested.

'Todoroki,' Midoriya thought, eyes flooding, 'What's going on in there?'

~" Shoto…"

"Shoto?"

"Shoto!"

The boy pulled the front of his t-shirt collar: keeping himself from choking as his father yanked at the back. He was dragging him now. To the usual spot, he was sure of it. Through waterlogged eyes, Shoto could make out the blurred lights of their Christmas tree from inside. It was pleasant.

It would be the one, pleasant moment he'd have that day.

The snow stung his bare legs, making him gasp.

"Quiet," his father barked.

Finally, they had stopped. Still, the frosty substance stung at him. Snow was falling in the open courtyard. Each flake assassinated the boy's exposed skin, which was growing more bluish by the second. His baby teeth chattered. Though he knew better than to hug himself, his arms began to wrap around his own torso.

"Arms out."

Doing as instructed, Shoto extended his trembling arms forward. Soft sobs hiccupped out of him. There it was again – the same cramping feeling that came with each training. Right in the pit of his stomach. His father's ice blue eyes peered out from a mask of concentrated flames. His tight mouth huffed out a cloud of warm air.

"I'll tell you when to move," Enji demanded.

Shoto shuddered. He knew this drill.

Get cold. Make fire. Go inside.

If only he didn't have trouble with the middle part.

"Mmmm," the child moaned breathlessly, his extended arms numbing. A hot tear froze to his cheek as it trickled down to his quivering chin.

Enji's watch read 6:02. Shoto remained in this position until 8:34... ~

Despite the fire, Aizawa still made every effort to keep the student in bed. Like he'd mentioned, the whole building wasn't fire-resistant. Ribbons of Aizawa's scarf shot through the flames: getting perilously singed in the process. Red eyes glowered in the scuffle.

'No use,' Aizawa thought, 'I can't get through to him with these flames.'

It was hard to believe he could even hear Midoriya's soft-spoken voice through this calamity.

"It's gotta be a fever dream," the student said lowly.

Aizawa nodded, sweat dripping from his own brow as he tousled with the blaze.

"That would justify the sudden spike."

Carefully, Midoriya took a step to the side. Aizawa jolted, his teeth gnashing.

"Don't."

Midoriya attempted to justify it.

"I just—"

"I don't wanna hear it," Aizawa snapped, "I can handle a sick student – not third-degree burns. So not another damn step, Midoriya. Do you hear me?"

The student gulped. He nodded his head.

"O-okay."

Aizawa turned back, his full attention with Todoroki once more. Still, wild flits of his scarf prodded to keep the boy in place – disintegrating each time.

'Can't do this much longer,' Aizawa thought carefully, 'C'mon, kid… What's happening to you?'

~ "Shoto! What the Hell is wrong with you?!"

The child winced at his father's holler. He continued to flex his small bicep, cursing himself as he shook.

"C'mon," he whimpered under his breath, "C'mon, j-just do it…"

Though his tearing eyes were shut tight, Shoto could hear a door creak open.

"Oh no…" Shoto panicked, "No, don't be—"

" Please, father!" cried Natsuo.

"Let Shoto come in," Fuyumi added, "We can't celebrate without him!"

The sound of glass shattered to the floor. Its loudness was only rivaled by the sound Enji's bellowing.

"Enough! He will do what needs to be done."

Bringing himself to open his eyes, Shoto made out a deep shatter in his flat's window. His father's watch was missing from his bulging wrist. The man towered over Shoto, his wide shadow casting even more cold air on the boy.

"Failures," Enji muttered, "You will not be a failure, you here? You will not."

Without hesitation, he twisted the boy's left wrist, just far enough so not to snap it. Shoto can't help but cry out in pain.

"R'aaaaah!" ~

"R'aaaaaaaaah!"

Todoroki emitted a scream so bloodcurdling, Midoriya and Aizawa are pushed back several feet.

This scream even traveled down the hall – making its way to the men's shower room. Well underway, soaking mountains of towels in icy water, Bakugo's ears perked at the sound.

"What the Hell was that?"

Toshinori continued to drench more towels in the liquid, hiding his concern well. His haste picked up as he continued to soak them.

"Young Iida," All Might asserted, "We need more hands. Not too many, though. They'll get in the way... The objective: keep soaking and tossing them off to Todoroki's room. 'Got it?"

Adjusting his glasses, the class representative rose.

"Yes, sir!"

"Wait."

As he darted to leave, he stopped short at the gruff sound of his classmate.

Not looking up, Bakugo muttered, "Uraraka and Shoji."

Iida turned at Bakugo's suggestion. He grinned.

"My thoughts exactly."

Still fixed on the tub and towels, Bakugo snorted.

"Whatever."

Iida, rolling his eyes, sprinted into the common room. Trying to mask the alarm in his voice, the class leader called to his fellow hero scholars.

"Uraraka! Shoji! We need your help."

Lighting up, Uraraka raced to Iida's side.

"Just tell me what to do," she smiled enthusiastically.

While less passionate, Shoji was quick to respond.

"Sure. What's up?"

"I'll explain on the way," Iida pressed, "Quickly, now!"

The two dashed alongside their class leader. Though, as they turned the left corner, Uraraka halted abruptly as she cried.

"Hold on a sec!"

Shoji reacted quickly, stopping with her. Iida, too, turned about-face. His brow creased.

"W-what is it, Uraraka?! We have to—"

"It's just," she blushed, "Well… This is the boys' hall. Am I… allowed to be here?"

Iida stared at her, deadpan. His eyes were practically explosive.

"Are you serious?! C'mon!"

Shoji and Iida made their way again, with Uraraka shrugging not too far behind them.

"Fine," she harumphed, "'Just thought I'd ask!"

In no time flat, the trio returned to the shower room. Bakugo and Toshinori, ringing out towels, started handing them out by the armful.

"Thank you, young heroes," Toshinori assented.

"Right," Bakugo interrupted, pointing to the tub, "Pink Cheeks – float these to Todoroki's room."

Her brow quirked at the tub.

"O…kay, but why?"

Bakugo barked, "Just do it!"

"Woah, okay! Fine! Yeesh."

"Shoji," Iida added calmly, handing off a sopping pile of linens to his classmate, "Grab as many towels as you can carry, and head for Todoroki."

"Sure!" the two replied, with Shoji making a break for the bedroom.

"We'll keep 'em coming," Toshinori added, dousing more cloths into the cold tub.

Kneeling beside Bakugo, Uraraka tapped as many towels as she could.

"Alright," the girl clenched, holding her breath, "Here…they go…"

With a purple aura around the pile, the mound of drenched cloth began to levitate. She stood up again, her cheeks deepening in shade.

"I'll… be back," she gasped, racing down the hall with the pile hovering a few feet above her head.

Not far behind Shoji, Uraraka raced to Todoroki's corridor. Once she arrived, her focus was completely distracted by the inferno peeking through the doorway.

"Wh-what the—"

And with that, each levitated towel began to rain to the ground. Shoji, while shocked at the sight himself, looked down at his own armful of linens.

"Uh… I'd help, but—"

"I-I got 'em," Uraraka scrambled, her face reddening again, "Keep going!"

Shoji nodded, returning to pace. Quickly from behind, Toshinori also came barreling in with his own bevy of towels. The combined sight of the newly stoked flames and sound of Midoriya's cries made All Might recoil.

"Todoroki!"

Behind Aizawa's lashes of scarf garlands, the One-for-All successor called to his classmate.

"Todoroki! Stop!"

~ "Light a fire for me, Shoto." His father commanded in such a way, it made the yard shake.

"Stop!" Rei screeched, "It's Christmas. Do we have to do this on Christmas?!"

Shoto's soft voice sniveled, "I-it's okay… I-I can do it, M-M-Mom…" ~

Todoroki's dry lips parted. He struggled to draw air in.

"C…c'n d'it…M'mom…"

Toshinori's unnerved eyes zipped to the student.

"Wh-what's happening? What's going on?"

"Fiery fever dream," Aizawa grunted, turning to his colleague, "Er… literally."

He looked down at All Might's damp bounty.

"What's that?"

In his typical way, All Might smiled reassuringly.

"Something that might help."

The former pro hero turned to Shoji.

"Drop them," he instructed, "And line the floor, along the bedside."

Nodding, Shoji complied. As he did, Uraraka clamored in with her own heap.

Toshinori nodded, "Just in time, young Uraraka."

"Urgh!"

They turned their heads at Aizawa's frustrated murmuring. His red eyes were starting to strain.

"Speaking of time…"

All Might's expression hardened. "Right!"

Grabbing a few towels, he dispensed a handful to Midoriya. The tearful teen looked up to his mentor.

"A-All Might?"

"'Gonna need your help with this," he grinned.

"No," Aizawa yelled, "Midoriya, stay behind—"

"I'll be careful, Mr. Aizawa."

Aizawa, turning his head curtly, shot Toshinori a grave look.

"Watch him," he commanded.

Toshinori nodded and turned to his pupil. They both approached the bedside, careful not to step on Shoji. All Might and Midoriya looked at the struggling teen. Midoriya frowned.

"All Might… These are really cold. It's gonna be super uncomfortable for him."

"He's burning up," All Might replied flatly, "He's going to be uncomfortable no matter what. I think he'd rather be uncomfortable without the fire, don't you?"

"Alright," Midoriya swallowed, "You're right."

Toshinori nodded. As Todoroki's writhing torso scorched once more, All Might squinted.

"We're going to help you, Todoroki."

While he started with a whisper, his tone increased gradually.

"But the fire—"

He lifted a long, dripping towel into the air.

"That is enough!"

~ "Enough! Heroes don't stop because it's Christmas. Or because it's cold."

"B-but, D-dad- "

"Did I ask you to speak?"

"N-no?"

"No. No, I asked you to light a damn fire. So… where's the damn fire?!"

A burly hand rose briefly, its weight coming down quickly. Shoto braced for the impact.

"G'aaah!"~

"G'aaaaaah!"

Todoroki cried as if he'd been seared by a steal pike. Ice from the towel injected his bloodstream. Steam rose from his upper shoulder, quelling and killing a few flickering flames.

"I-I'm," Midoriya hesitated, shutting his eyes, "I'm sorry, Todoroki… We've got to…"

And with his own cloth, he plastered Todoroki's left pectoral muscle. Another torturous screech rang out of Todoroki.

"Y'raaaah! S-s-st'stop."

All Might shook his head.

"We have to keep going," he persisted, "'Til the fire's completely out. Understand?"

He extended his skinny arm to Uraraka.

"More."

Noticing his hand was empty, he turned his emaciated frame to face her. Unease was clearly on her face. Toshinori's stomach churned. He had no choice.

His tone stiffened. "More."

Uraraka, wiping her tears, consented to her teacher's wish. Midoriya, too, grabbed more towels from his classmate. Steadily, they were lining Todoroki's whole body with them. As they did, Todoroki's screams became quieter again. Quieter… but much more desperate.

"P-p-please," he tremored, "S-s-so… c-c-cold…"

Midoriya laid a dampened washcloth to Todoroki's sweltering forehead.

"Shh," he hushed, "I know. It's okay."

~ "Shh," Rei hushed, "I know. It's okay."

Shoto's welled-up eyes squinted.

"C-c-cold, M-m-m-mom…"

Despite the boy's shivers, Shoto's left arm continued to flare up with small flames. Gingerly, Rei dabbed at each one with a damp washcloth. The child seethed as the frozen liquid doused his blazing skin. His mother's voice was like honey as it soothed him.

"It'll be over soon, my Shoto."

The woman looked up. Enji's piercing stare was the last thing she saw before he took to the bedroom. Her expression was severe.

"It'll be over soon."

"It'll be over soon."

Midoriya's words were coming through much more calmly and clearly. He and All Might continued to lay down the remaining towels. Despite Todoroki's shivering physique, the fires were officially out. Clouds of residual soot and steam clouded up the room. Aizawa coughed at the sight.

"So," the teacher commented to his colleague, "Wet… towels, eh?"

"That's the word on the street," All Might replied.

"Genius. So simple, I'm embarrassed I didn't think of it myself."

"Or me!"

Turning at the sound of Iida's voice, the teachers shot their student a look. Aizawa crossed him arms.

"How long were you standing there?"

Sheepishly, Iida scratched the back of his neck.

"D'er… The whole time?"

"I, eh," All Might intruded, "I enlisted a few young heroes for help!"

Aizawa's stare deepened.

"'Enlisted', huh?"

Wheezing, Aizawa scooted to the door.

"Pardon, 'heroes'. I need some air."

All Might grinned, rubbing his hands.

"Well," he observed, "That's the last of the towels. Fine work to you all!"

Normally, this would've garnered a wave of cheers. However, with the pitiful sounds of Todoroki's labored breathing filling the room, nobody could bring themselves to do it. Midoriya sniffed.

"I'm glad we could help, but… Todoroki's not out of the woods yet… Is he?"

All Might's downcast eyes struggled to meet his prodigy's.

'What can you say, Toshinori?'

The teacher looked to Todoroki. It was hard to ignore his shuddering frame and contorted expression.

"The boy does look a little cold."

"Maybe this'll help."

He looked up. Aizawa made a swift return, carrying some loose cloth in his hands.

"Grabbed this from the Support Class shop room," he noted, brandishing Todoroki's exposed torso with a bright blue U.A. tunic. Cautiously, he slipped it over Todoroki's limp bodice.

"It's a fire-resistant prototype, but… it's better than nothing."

Toshinori quirked an eyebrow.

"Who's the genius now?"

Ignoring this, Aizawa meticulously lowered the ailing teen back onto the bed.

"There. A little more comfortable, I'm sure."

Though he was a bit more clothed than before, the chill Todoroki felt was undeniable. Those towels were truly frigid, and the wetness to them certainly didn't bring much solace to Todoroki's bare skin. His shivers made Midoriya shake himself.

"Maybe," the freckled teen suggested, "A blanket would help?"

"Absolutely not," Aizawa admonished, "With Todoroki's erratic thermal regulation, we can't chance that. If he gets too hot again, those flames could come back in an instant."

"H'hih..h'Hr'issh'uuh!"

The spectators in the room gasped at Todoroki's sneeze – as it brought with it a few snowflakes. Aizawa looked to All Might. They both knew what they saw. Aizawa's red eyes turned to the students.

"Out. Now."

Knowing their sensei meant business, the heroes-in-training zipped out of the room. All, of course, except for—

"Midoriya," Aizawa reproached, "That means you, too."

Midoriya, still kneeling by Todoroki's bedside looked up.

"But—"

"Am I speaking a different language? Do you think your middle name is 'Special Treatment' or something?!"

Aizawa's hair stood on end. His patience was wearing thin.

"Shota," Toshinori hissed in a whisper.

"I-I'm going."

Midoriya's defeated tone melted All Might's heart.

"Young Midoriya—"

"Good night, sirs," the boy bowed.

His mossy bangs hid his tear-stained eyes as he exited. Toshinori's fists clenched.

"Did the boy really deserve that?"

"Maybe you've got time to play favorites," Aizawa jeered, "But I don't."

He pointed to Todoroki.

"And that's another thing. Three words: 'Heroes. In. Training'. I've got students to protect, Toshinori. Students like him. Students like Midoriya. Do you know how lucky we are that none of them got scorched back there?"

"I—"

"Because do you know who the parents would blame?

"Shota—"

"Not the famous All Might. Not the U.A. school district. Me. Their main class instructor."

Aizawa's arms continued to flail to the sick boy.

"And we both saw that sneeze. We both know something else is coming. Something… Something bad."

He turned his back to his colleague.

"And I know it doesn't matter to you – who you 'enlist' – but I don't want anybody else to get hurt, sick, burned, or frostbitten tonight. Is that alright with, you? 'All Might'?"

Numb at his colleague's words, the hero stood in place. He reached a hand to Aizawa's shoulder before he pulled back, decidedly against it.

"Eraserhead," he stated, "I…I'm so sorry. You're right. I… crossed a line with the… with your students."

Aizawa's cold aura stuck Toshinori to the core.

"I'm getting my sleeping bag," Aizawa retorted, "Take the first watch."

Toshinori, still frozen in place, watched his colleague slip out of the room. Looking to Todoroki, he could see the boy's jaw quivering as frost crackled onto his right cheek. All Might groaned and pulled up a nearby chair.

"Oh boy…"