Toshinori

"Shouta warned you not to put those two together!" Recovery Girl hisses at me.

"I didn't think-"

"Your right." She cuts me off. "You didn't think. Now that boy is severely injured and unconscious, because you didn't think."

"I-"

"I'm not done." She growls. I obediently shut my mouth, not wanting to test her patience. "Did you consider that there might have been a reason Shouta didn't want those two together?"

"I did but they'll need to be able to work together if they're going to be heroes." I defend weakly.

"You really have no idea, do you?" She glares balefully at me. "Izuku is Shouta's kid. They don't advertise it partially because what led up to it wasn't something they wanted people to poke their heads into."

She rolls up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal starburst scars all over his skin. "It's not just his arms, his face was basically the only thing spared. Izuku and that explosive brat went to school together. I'll give you one guess how it happened."

"Then young Bakugou…" My eyes widen in realization and my stomach threatens to revolt at what I've done.

"That's correct. You just forced a standoff between a victim and his tormentor."

"Then how did he get into UA with that on his record?"

"Because the problem child's a bleeding heart." Aizawa dryly states entering the infirmary. "How is he?"

"He'll live, his flames seem to have stopped a lot of the damage. I fixed the broken rib and the burns. He'll have pretty extensive bruising on his back for a few days, and a nasty concussion. I was worried he has quirk exhaustion as well and didn't want to risk it"

"Well that'll be fun to handle." Aizawa grimaces. "You remember how out of control his intuition got the last time he had a concussion."

"I don't envy you." She shakes her head. "You can take him home once he wakes up."

"Thank you."

Recovery Girl excuses herself from the room.

"I'm half tempted to just handcuff him to something, expect that wouldn't work because he'd just pick the lock." He narrows his eyes . "On second thought maybe I'll just foist him off on Todoroki and Iida."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I understand the issue."

"Izuku's intuition is intrusive on a good day, normally he can filter that information and decide what he should act on. With a concussion, he can't filter information very well. He tries to act on every little thing and ends up with sensory overload. You don't realize how much he ignores until he feels compelled to rearrange the living room furniture at 3 in the morning because someone at some point is going to trip on the ottaman."

"Oh- thats…"

"Insane? Yes, it is. Now sit down and get comfortable, you and I are going to have a long discussion about this mess." He broadly gestures.

I hurry to comply, partly out of guilt partly out of fear of what the man will do to me if I don't.

"Putting aside the fact you intentionally ignored my request to not pair Bakugou and Izuku together," I wince at the dig. "What possessed you to throw a bunch of teenagers, most of whom have never used their quirks on another person, into a building and told them to have at it?"

"They need experience fighting indoors." I flimsily defend my decision.

"I agree, but that shouldn't have been their first lesson." He shakes his head, "The only ones that know exactly how dangerous they are are Izuku, Todoroki and maybe Iida. The first thing they should have learned is how to fight safely, for their own sake and other people. We can't afford to have another Endevor running around."

"He's not that bad." Sure the man is a little prickly, but he is a fine hero.

"Seriously." Aizawa deadpans, disbelief written across his face. "I know you tend to see the best in people, but really? The man is a nightmare to work with and his own children despise the man."

"That's…"

"His eldest mysteriously disappeared from the hospital after sustaining severe burns. His wife disappeared into a psych hospital years second son has cut all contact with his father. The only reason the daughter hasn't left is because she didn't want Shoto to have to deal with him by himself. And Shoto himself has a burn on the wrong side of his body for it to have been made by accident. Tell me there isn't something very wrong about this picture."

I grimace, never having known about his family matters. "Is this why Young Midoriya hates him?"

"A large part, yes." He admits. "The fact that he's generally an asshole and doesn't care at all about the collateral damage he causes is another. But we're off topic. If Izuku had chosen to dodge, Uraraka and Iida would have at best, been seriously injured."

I futilely try to press down my guilt at nearly getting several students killed. "And Bakugou?"

"Is suspended for the next two weeks." He unhappily informs me. "While I would prefer to expel him, there is a very real risk of him becoming a villain if we do. Regardless, there will be no second chances after this."

"Do you think he has a chance?"

"He might if he ever pulls his head out of his ass." Midoriya groans.

"How do you feel?" Aizawa asks.

"It's loud." Aizawa pulls a face.

"You have a concussion."

"Wonderful." Midoriya sighs in defeat, draping an arm over his eyes.

"Recovery Girl said you could leave when you woke up. Do you think you can walk?"

A single green eye peeks out from under his arm. "Without puking all over the floor? No."

Aizawa sits on the side of the bed, back towards Midoriya. "Get on, and don't you dare puke on me."

Midoriya slowly sits up, pausing a moment to let the nausea pass. He wraps his arms around Aizawa's neck, and promptly buries his head in his shoulder. Aizawa easily lifts the boy.

"This talk isn't over." He shoots me a dirty look.

"Of course." I quickly agree. "I hope young Midoriya feels better."

He huffs and rolls his eyes. "Come on problem child let's go home."

Midoriya just groans in agreement.

I watch them leave with a pit of guilt in my stomach. Looking back on it now, it was obvious there was something more going on between Midoriya and Bakugou than a rivalry that got out of hand. And if I missed something that was right in front of my face, what else have I missed?

The thought doesn't let go and somehow I instinctively know.

Something is terribly wrong.