Shouta Aizawa

While Bakugou scrupulously examined the poem in his hands, Aizawa thought to himself, It's early in the morning, but a lot has already happened. The more I learn about these two, the more I find myself brooding over their health. Neither of them will admit that anything is wrong, despite the obvious, and as much as it hurts to hear that one of my students could potentially be the victim of abuse, I'd rather know and be able to help than unknowingly allow this abuse to continue. And Bakugou… There are a few more questions I have for him before I talk to Todoroki.

"Willin' to bet this is Icyhot's," Bakugou uttered in a hollow sigh. "He writes poems, or at least he used to, and this is his style if I've ever seen it. Tch. I don't understand how people can pull words out of their heads and make things like this." His sullen, shadow-weighted eyes seemed to desiderate something.

"Todoroki wrote this?" Aizawa queried for clarification; Bakugou nodded. "But I understand. Poetry and writing in general have never been my specialty. That's why I'm not your English teacher—Yamada is." His eyes skimmed over the last stanza of Todoroki's poem. "Bakugou? Do you know if Todoroki is suicidal? I know it's a heavy question."

For a while, Bakugou held his silence that gripped the atmosphere with leaden tension. "I…don't know. He was when we were together. Tch." His brows sank down, and he rubbed his eyes a bit. "Asshole…tried to take his life, but he'd texted me that he was gonna do it before he did anything. Thank fuck…I got there in time. He was this close to doing it. Had to talk him out of it. First and last time I ever saw him cry. He really…was going through a rough time." It was then that Aizawa noticed the gentle streams running down Bakugou's pale cheeks, but those glimmering, crystalline rivulets were promptly wiped away. "He cried for so damn long… Finally let himself cry after years of repressing everything. But after that, he never gave even the slightest sign of wanting to die. Instead, he just…" He paused to bury his tear-stained face into his hands, but Aizawa could make out the visceral facial contortion of agony that Bakugou's hands obscured. "I don't fucking know…

"But considering all the shit he's going through, I don't think he's desperate. I know he has the resolve to do it if he really wants to. Can't say he wants to be alive, but he's fighting to keep living. Tch. Y'know what I think it is? I just don't think he cares if he dies. Maybe he still wants to, maybe he doesn't, but I don't know. Here I am, doing the same shit I berate him for." Bakugou dropped his palms into his lap. "Dammit. His secrets aren't gonna easily come out. He ain't weak, and he's a good, empty fucking liar. He's… Never mind. Don't mind my shitty Deku rambling." Fragments of unspoken, frenetic emotions were wedged into his scarlet irises.

With a languid nod and a long exhale, Aizawa replied, "If you need an ear, I'll gladly lend one, Bakugou. It sounds like a lot has been weighing on your mind. It's good to find an outlet for those before they snowball and spiral. Talking to someone or writing your thoughts down can help." He paused, and for a fleeting moment, only the sound of the gentle breeze soughing through the trees could be heard. "Bakugou, are you happy?"

Bakugou averted his eyes and stood up. "Course I am. Life's just shitty sometimes." He turned his back to Aizawa and lowered his head. "Ever asked yourself that question? Tch. I'm off to the store." With that, Bakugou soon coalesced with the bend of the horizon and the peripheries of Aizawa's vision.

Have I ever asked myself that question? Aizawa cerebrated while plodding towards Bakugou's apartment again. 'Am I happy?' Why wouldn't I be? I won't dwell on it. But I've never seen you vulnerable before. I've never seen the human part of you that cries and feels pain and taxing emotions. I've never seen you go out of your way to help someone that needs it. You'll make a fine Hero, Bakugou. It's a pleasure to see my students grow. Now, I need to talk to Todoroki.

Once Aizawa arrived at the door of Todoroki and Bakugou's apartment, he knocked, but only the faint buzz exuded from the overhead lights ensued. So, he knocked again after an interlude of roughly forty seconds. His pulse quickened, and a bitter taste subjugated his tongue, but he mentally sighed in relief once the door gradually creaked open.

Todoroki's expression was a wall of steel, and yet, his physique had been reduced to that of a brittle twig. "Sorry." He stifled a wince, sidestepping to allow Aizawa to enter the apartment. "Bakugou isn't here." He began to close the door, but he dithered before slowly sliding the door back into place with a brief click.

That's right… Aizawa realized. He asked to keep the classroom door open. Why is that? Fear? Discomfort? He seems perfectly fine around his peers. Is it me, how I look, adults, men, perceived threats… I can't say. But I see his limp. I see the pain in his movements. I see the bruises on his cheek. He's in no condition to continue sustaining these types of injuries.

Aizawa nodded and cleared his throat. "Did something happen, Todoroki?" His lethal, lackadaisical gaze met Todoroki's.

Todoroki slowly raised a brow. "No, why?"

Noting the lack of any unorthodox behaviors from Todoroki, Aizawa replied, "You're limping. And remind me of what happened to your cheek again."

Will his answer contradict what he previously said, and what Bakugou told me? If it doesn't, I still don't have enough information to determine whether or not he's maintaining a lie, or if he's telling the truth.

Todoroki let out an unenthused sigh. "Someone tripped, and I got caught in it. The limp is from tumbling down a staircase. They're nothing serious." His vacant stare was unwavering.

"Someone?" Aizawa pressed.

"A drunk man," Todoroki specified. "I don't know his name. He had short, graying hair, and he was wearing a red shirt."

"I see. Have you eaten anything today?"

"Yeah."

"What was it?"

"Rice."

"Todoroki, do you feel like you're eating enough?"

Todoroki shook his head. "No. I've lost…so much weight. I don't think I can afford to lose more." He glimpsed down at his palms and shook his head. "But I'm working on it." He expelled a silent sigh.

Aizawa nodded. "What are you working on?"

"Trying to eat in general." Todoroki trailed off.

Raising his brows, Aizawa decided to press the topic. "Is there something that makes it uncomfortable?"

"I can't say."

"You can't? Or you don't want to?"

"I just…can't. Even if I wanted to, I don't think I'd be able to get any words out. But I'll be fine." Todoroki glanced at his left hand before looking up at Aizawa.

Before, he said he hadn't fixed his routines after breaking up with Bakugou. That must be a lie, or, at least not the leading cause. He was comfortable with telling me that, but there's something deeper that he isn't willing to share. I won't press him further. I can tell this is a sensitive subject for him. The one I want to bring up now…

"And that's all right," Aizawa reaffirmed to his student. "Before I leave, though, I want you to eat something, even if it's small. But I'm very concerned about you, Todoroki." He noticed how Todoroki's pupils shrank ever so slightly as he retrieved Todoroki's poem from his bag. "Have you ever thought about hurting yourself or ending your life?"