Rescued, But Not Truly Saved

Changes

     It was at least three weeks before Shoto was discharged from the hospital. The teen had thought he would be put into a foster system. He was very surprised to be informed that his homeroom teacher would be taking care of him. What surprised him even more was the fact that he'd be living with his teacher. "I'll show you around." Shota said as he unlocked the front door to his apartment. The two walked into the living room. "This is the living room. To your left is the kitchen. The bathroom is at the end of the hall."

Shota walked down the hall. "My bedroom is on the left. Yours is right across from mine. If you need anything, just knock. My office is right next to my room. Don't go in there." The teacher faced the teen. "My only rules are to clean up after yourself, try not to make too much noise, and don't burn the place down. Other than that, you're free to do whatever you want." Shoto nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll behave."

The first week of Todoroki living with his teacher was like walking on eggshells. The teen was always afraid whenever he was with Aizawa. He never spoke unless spoken to and did his best to make himself small and unnoticeable; it worked for the most part. He walked silently, making the hero think his student left the building. Dining together was the worst. Shoto would glance at his teacher every few seconds to see if he was doing anything wrong. Quite frankly, Shota found it annoying, but he wasn't going to say anything.

Todoroki always insisted of washing dishes after each meal, doing unnecessary chores to stay out of trouble. Aizawa told him every time that he didn't need to do them. The teen would the protest about doing them, leaving Shota to allow the teen to do what he liked. He sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels. He heard a loud crash from the kitchen.

Concerned, he ran into the kitchen. A broken plate was on the floor, pieces of it scattered all over. Shoto was on his knees, clumsily picking up the sharp pieces. There were at least five shards embedded in his palms. "I-I'm sorry...! I-I didn't mean to...! It was a-an accident...! I'm sorry, sir...!" He frantically apologized. Shota knelt next to him and held his wrists. "Stop it. Can't you see you're hurting yourself?" The teacher lightly scolded. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Aizawa quickly left to find the first aid kit. When he returned to the kitchen, Shoto was heating a knife. The blade glowed an angry red. The teen himself was trembling. "Kid, what the h*ll?!" Shoto flinched. "I-I'm sorry for breaking the plate, s-sir. I-I am ready to accept my punishment, s-sir. F-Father usually gives me 50 burns... b-but feel free to do as many as you please...! I deserve it..!" He handed the hero the knife, his voice wavering. Shota quickly took the knife and threw it into the sink, running cold water over it.

"Kid, you just healed! What the h*ll?! I am not your father, d*nm it! I am not going to hurt you for doing something wrong! You broke a plate, so what? Just clean it up, apologize and call it a day! Don't give me a hot knife to burn you with! I am not here to harm you, do you understand?" Tears filled Shoto's eyes as he tried desperately not to let them fall. "I-I understand... I-I'm sorry, s-sir...I'll behave..." The teen got back on his knees and continued to clean up the shards of the plate. Shota grabbed his wrists and pulled him closer to him. "Kid, it's ok to cry. I understand that you grew up walking on eggshells. You think that every little thing you do will get you punished. You can make mistakes, ok? I'm sorry for yelling at you, but I need you to understand that I won't hurt you. Do you understand?"

Shoto nodded, still refusing to let a single tear drop. Shota took the first aid kit and started removing the shards from the teen's hands before rubbing them in alcohol and wrapping them in gauze. "Thank you, sir..." Shoto mumbled before scurrying off to his room. He understood the fact that Aizawa wouldn't hurt him, he just couldn't understand why. He deserved it, after all. He couldn't grasp the fact of not being hurt for making a mistake. Thoughts swarmed his head as he laid in bed before sleep took over him.