Meeting Aizawa's gaze, Todoroki answers, "Ara is important to me too."
Aizawa's eyebrow twitches. Well, well, well.
The soft pink hue of the early morning sky blends perfectly with the blush spreading across Arata's face. She stares hard at her shoes, like they've suddenly become the most amazing thing in the world—maybe even more than his phone that paid for her party dress with a simple tap on the card reader.
"As you are to us, Shoto-san."
Kids these days, Aizawa rolls his eyes, his hands finding their way back to his pockets. He hasn't said anything in that matter, but there she goes—behind the guise of collectivism. Well, he supposes it's not inaccurate, so he lets it slide—for now.
In any case, with Todoroki's eyes showing a tenderness that was almost too soft and Arata's nervousness making the air between them crackle, it's painfully clear where their relationship is heading.
The skeptic in Aizawa can't help but think this is all happening way too fast. He isn't convinced this—whatever this is between them—is the best idea for either of them. But if he's learned anything from teaching high-schoolers, it's that they'll do whatever they want anyway.
Still, Aizawa is nothing if not strict and straight to the point, especially when it comes to keeping things—people—in line. "So are your training and studies. Forget about dating if you can't keep up with both. Copy, Arata?"
Arata's jaw drops so fast, Aizawa's surprised it doesn't hit the floor. "Aizawa-san, what—"
"Training comes first. That makes sense," Todoroki interjects, already nodding along like it's the most logical thing in the world. "But, why did you mention it? Is Ara dating someone?"
Aizawa snorts, barely keeping it together. Meanwhile, Arata looks like she's seconds away from melting into the ground out of sheer embarrassment.
She whips her head towards Todoroki with wide, panicked eyes. "No! No, I'm not!"
Todoroki frowns, clearly deep in thought. "In that case, why would Aizawa-sensei bring it up?"
"I— uh— well—" Arata stammers, stepping back with each clumsy syllable, struggling to find a way to explain things that won't dig her an even deeper hole.
It's like watching someone try to climb out of a sand dune with a mere spoon. She's flailing, and Aizawa, being the endlessly generous and oh-so-loving adoptive father he is, decides to let her squirm a little longer.
Maybe he's twisted, but hey, after being mistaken as homeless, it's nice get to laugh at someone else's expense for a change.
Todoroki's face is a mix of confusion and curiosity as he tries to piece together the situation. "Then, are you considering it?"
Arata lets out a strangled noise, her hands waving wildly in front of her face like she's physically shooing away the conversation topic. She ducks behind Aizawa's back, using it as a shield against the clueless boy. "That's not— I mean, not that I— Shoto-san, you're missing the point! What Aizawa-san meant is…"
"It's just a warning." Aizawa finally swoops in to save her. "Mainly for Arata, but really, it goes for both of you."
"A warning about what?" Todoroki echoes, his brow furrowing. "Why is it relevant to me?"
"About staying on track," Aizawa explains, his tone light but layered with meaning. "Distractions happen, especially when emotions are involved."
Todoroki frowns in thought. "But I'm not distracted."
"Not yet," Aizawa shoots back quickly. "Just remember, it's in your best interest to stay focused too."
Todoroki nods, not quite catching the full implication. "Understood, Aizawa-sensei."
Aizawa gives Todoroki a sidelong glance. "If only you were as sharp in picking up on these things as you are in battle... We could be making more progress, Todoroki."
Todoroki blinks, puzzled. "What things?"
"Exactly." Aizawa lets out a long-suffering sigh, then turns to the girl behind his back. "And you, Kid, are we clear on this? I want your priorities straight. Do you copy?"
"Copy, Aizawa-san." Arata's eyes flash with resolve as she looks up at him. It's a sharp contrast to the timidity and uncertainty he'd seen from her before she left for I-Island. "I understand. I want to get stronger too and, um… I don't want to let you down. I'm ready for whatever you throw at me."
Aizawa had feared that everything Arata faced on I-Island might completely shatter her. But instead, she bent without breaking. She bounced back—and most importantly, came home.
Thinking back, maybe he should've had more faith in her. After all, anyone who has withstood such extreme isolation for years and survived an incubus' cruel torture without losing even half of their mind—have to be practically unbreakable.
"Good, we're on the same page." Aizawa crosses his arms, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Clear your schedule for the rest of the summer—no free time except for Sundays. Training starts tomorrow morning."
Arata balks at the packed agenda, but she nods, accepting her fate. Todoroki just looks on, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.
Aizawa knows that Arata might have survived thanks to her resilience, but mere survival won't cut it for him. She has to thrive, to heal, so being alive isn't rife with painful memories. With that in mind, Aizawa reminds her of their agreement during the phone call, "Make sure you check in with Recovery Girl first."
"Got it, Aizawa-san."
Aizawa casually tugs on the strap of Arata's backpack, lifting it effortlessly onto his own shoulder. "I can carry it myself," she insists, but her wide yawn undermines her argument.
"Let's get moving. We'll drop Todoroki off, then head back to the apartment." Without addressing her protest, Aizawa turns and starts walking toward the pick-up area, the backpack swinging gently with his every step.
As they walk together through the warm Tokyo night, the early morning chill begins to lift, giving way to the gentle promise of dawn.
The trio pile into the back seat of a taxi that Aizawa hails. After giving the driver their addresses, Aizawa sinks back into the seat and exhales slowly, the calming scent of lavender from the air freshener filling his senses.
He rubs at his temples, exhaustion crashing back into his bones after the effect of caffeine wears off. "It's already morning, but try to get some rest. It's been a long flight for you." And a hell of a trip.
Todoroki, eyes already closed, crosses his arms and gives a small, sleepy nod from the far end of the seat. Arata, clearly just as drained, is halfway to dreamland, her head gently tipped back against the seat between them.
Aizawa lets his own eyelids droop until the car rolls into a small bump in the road. He stirs sluggishly. That's when he notices the weight on his arm.
Arata has drifted off completely, her head resting on him. And just beyond her, Todoroki has followed suit, leaning into her with his head nestled against her shoulder.
For a moment, Aizawa simply stares, something unexpectedly warm tugging at his chest. These two, so exhausted they've toppled together, like a pair of dominoes falling into him.
Kids these days, indeed.
A faint smile creeps onto his face as he carefully unties Arata's squished ponytail with one hand, freeing her hair from the awkward position between the seat and her head. He might not always know what he's doing when it comes to parenting, but seeing her subconsciously seek him out like this, he must've managed to get something right.
Not bad for a man who was mistaken as homeless earlier.
The city outside begins to stir, faint car horns and distant footsteps breaking through the quiet, but inside the taxi, it's peaceful.
Although the comfort of his bed is still miles away, a rare sense of ease settles in him—a calm that has become all too elusive in his own apartment. Here, in this taxi, with their combined weight numbing his right arm, Aizawa feels something shift.
Home, huh? he thinks, letting the warmth of the moment wrap around him, as he shuts his eyes once more. Guess it's not just a place.
And yeah, either way, I'm definitely not homeless.