Classification au: Shoto's regression is known
~~~
Classifications are the bane of many people's existence. No one can choose their classification, it is what it is, and usually around puberty it's recommended to get a test done, in the case they haven't already presented.
Most people have a classification in mind, neutrals are usually the most preferred, and then caregivers, and lastly—the category nobody truly wanted—little. It's a bit of an exaggeration, but even as the worlds come a long way since their classifications had developed and the genetic makeup of the world began to shift, causing for certain symptoms to show up one by one, littles are still wildly misunderstood and talked down to by the world just because of their biological functions.
It's annoying, it's pathetic, and Shoto wishes he was anything but.
He presented around thirteen, not uncommon. The scent he elected was sweet and minty, Fuyumi always told him it reminded her of mint chocolate chip ice cream—which happened to be his favorite flavor when he was allowed sweets.
He remembered the disappointment on his father's face and the way he casually opened a drawer and tossed two boxes into his lap. A box of scent patches, and a box of pills. Suppressants.
They had just learned about puberty and the dangers of overusing said items. Scent patches are normal, and if used for the recommended amounts of time as directed on the box, they're perfectly safe and helpful. Suppressants however? After just presenting? It had awful long term affects. Suppressing his regression at the start of puberty was a terrible, terrible idea.
But he took them anyway. He didn't have much of a choice. He listened to his father, even as his rage grew. His rebellion and resentment really seemed to crank up as he got into UA, he had everything to prove. He refused to use his fire quirk, he purposefully avoided his father's calls, and even through it, he continued taking the suppressants.
Something changed though. When they moved into the dorms it was a transition, one he quite enjoyed. He was around his friends more, away from his father. He picked up his suppressants once a week and took them like normal.
But then it fell apart.
"I don't understand." He states bluntly as he stares at Recovery girl as she files through her bin of medications kept in her office for all the students that are prescribed. "Why don't you have it?"
"It hasn't come in yet sonny, I don't know what to tell you. I'd have your guardian call your doctor or prescription office to try and see where it's at."
Shoto frowns but nods firmly, already fishing out his phone and is halfway down the hall by the time his father answers.
"Shoto? What is it-"
"My suppressants, they're late." He interrupts, not bothering to beat around the bush.
"What?!" His father booms in his ear. He doesn't grimace, he merely pulls it away for a moment, a sinking feeling forming in his stomach. "Stay in your dorm until I figure this out. I'll be contacting your teacher to inform him you can't participate in class until this is settled."
Todoroki wanted to argue, but he found he didn't have it in him. Suppressants lasted twenty-four hours, his regression wouldn't hit immediately would it? Unlikely...but then why was his head so foggy? Why could he hardly think?
"Shoto." His father's firm voice bit through the phone and Todoroki blinked a few times, realizing he was leaning against the wall and peered around, beginning to slowly drag himself in the direction of his dorm.
"Mmhm?"
"Don't embarrass me. Or yourself. Remember, if people know of your classication they will see you as less than, they'll think you're weak. I'm doing this for your own good Shoto. I'll have your suppressants there by the end of the day."
The call ended abruptly after and Todoroki doubled over, falling to the floor. He didn't understand it. This feeling was new, he couldn't think. He somehow felt like he was floating and yet drowning all at once. His heart thundered in his chest and he blinked once. Twice. Three times.
Ice covered the floor.
He frowned and sat up, watching frost work its way up his arm, he hasn't lost control of his quirk like this since he was a child.
"Todoroki-kun?"
His head slowly lifted, it was much harder to do than he remembered. His eyes met large green ones, eyebrows pinched in concern.
"Are you alright?" Midoriya asks, kneeling down to his level, which only worsened this fuzzy feeling swallowing his brain. "Should I get Sensei?"
Todoroki only stared, lips pressed tightly together, clutching at nothing. He couldn't feel his legs, or maybe he could? He didn't feel like moving. He was tired.
"Here, I'll get Recovery girl-" The words fell on deaf ears, turning into mindless gurgles. Todoroki just nodded though, pretending that he heard him.
The next few moments were truly a blur. He remembered a lower voice, an older one, and a far too loud one. He remembered the cold feeling of his ice disappearing before warm arms wrapped around him. He felt weightless as he leaned into the comforting warmth, the hand on his back rubbing circles only sank him down further and further. He's never felt so safe before, soft traces of coffee wafted through his nose and that was all he needed.
---
Aizawa held his student with one arm, pressing him against his chest while the other prepared a bottle from the stash of little products openly provided in their regression room. The room is softly colored, murals of cute animals painted on the wall with cushy playmats and soft carpet covering the floors. Plugs are covered, corners are padded, theres a pair of couches, toys, even a few cots for a good nap if needed. Every school is required to have a regression room, but Yurrei of course had to go above and beyond.
As Aizawa prepared the bottle, he peered down at Todoroki for the 80th time, watching as his half lidded eyes remained unfocused and lost, his thumb mindlessly pressed between his lips while the sweet, creamy mint scent pumped through the air, a telling smell of a very small baby. It was a surprise to everyone, patches are used schoolwide to ensure no one overwhelms the area with a mixture of scents. Everyone assumed Todoroki was a neutral, he didn't talk of it, never slipped.
Until now.
"How's the little listener?" Mic's voice cut through Aizawa's mind. He didn't peek over at him, merely continuing with the bottle and slipped it off the warmer. He tested it briefly against his wrist before nudging the bulb against Todoroki's lips. They parted immediately, and within minutes his eyes slipped closed while he suckled on his bottle, his fists closing around Aizawa's scarf.
"He seems fine." Aizawa murmurs. "Out of it. He slipped hard. Hasn't cried once though. Just has that lost baby stare."
"Have you contacted Endeavor?" Mic asks with a him as he walks over. He can't help but grin at the sight, his caregiver senses were going wild and he was always a sucker for how cute infant regressors could get!
Aizawa huffs. "No. This type of slip doesn't come unprompted. While Chiyo couldn't tell me what medication Todoroki was taking, it doesn't take a genius to know that this fall is usually seen in regressors neglecting their headspace for an unhealthy amount of time."
Mic frowns a bit. "You think he's been on suppressants?"
"I'm sure." Aizawa grumbles, adjusting Todorki slightly so he was laying comfortably and continued to cradle him. His eyes fluttered open at the sound of all the voices around him, and the brief shuffle.
"How long do you think..." Mic trails off, though despite his weary tone, he smiles at Todoroki, reaching out to playfully tap his nose. Todoroki blinks at him before smiling past the nub of the bottle and letting out a happy coo behind it.
"Too long." Aizawa answers shortly, peering down at the neglected regressor, and even he couldn't stop the small quirk of his lips at the sweet noise that left his throat.
"He's so cute." Mic gushes, watching as Todoroki seemed more awake then before, infant wise. He fisted mindlessly at Aizawa's scarf and his eyes searched the room, seeming curious of every color and crevice. He didn't lift his head from his spot, but he did roll it so he could look up at Aizawa better.
Said man raised a brow at him, rubbing at his back. "Can I help you?" He asks him, smirking as he babbles around the bottle, the nub slipping from his mouth. He reaches for his hair next and promptly pulls.
With a grunt, Aizawa scowls while Mic laughs and quickly moves forward to help Aizawa escape from Todoroki's strong baby grip. "Well aren't you strong?" Mic croons, easing his fists open and lets him wrap his hand around his instead.
"He could be in this state for awhile. I'll talk to Nedzu to see what we can do and if it's possible to keep him as a ward under the school until he returns to his regular headspace." Aizawa murmurs, brushing his hair back skillfully with one hand into a very messy bun. "I don't feel comfortable leaving him in Endeavor's care without a set investigation."
Mic hums softly in thought and picks up a soft lamb stuffed animal that rattled with any movement. He handed it to Todoroki to entertain him, giving it a few shakes to get him interested. It worked of course, and he happily slipped one of the plush ears into his mouth while his fingers squeezed, crinkling the little lamb. "That may not be up to us." He warns the man, only intending to cut through his protective attitude with his own ounce of logic. It hardly worked.
"It's only logical. Endeavor's too busy as the Number 1 hero to care for a regressor so small, besides, I doubt he'd enjoy the publicity." Aizawa refutes.
"So..." Mic trails with a knowing smirk as he leans in close to the other, his glasses dragging down towards the tip of his nose as he wiggles his eyebrows mischievously. "We're keeping him then?"
Aizawa rolls his eyes and uses his free hand to shove at his lovers face. "Don't you have a class to teach? Shoo."
What kind of question was that anyway? Of course they're keeping him. Todoroki is his student, and he would be damned if he allowed anything to happen to him.