Youngblood - A 5SOS Inspired BNHA Fanfiction

Chapter 6

"She should be waking up soon, so you can go back to class." Recovery Girl attempted to comfort the boys who still sat at the end of the bed Y/N was in. She moved from top to bottom of the bed, making sure that the chubby girl was resting comfortably and that her vitals were stable. It was a tricky thing, this overheating problem. Y/N's body temperature naturally ran a bit higher than everyone else, so trying to find a happy medium was like throwing a dart at another smaller dart blindfolded whilst spinning around on a roulette wheel.

"You boys get back to class for now," Aizawa said. "I'll let you know how she's doing later."

"Ok, Aizawa-sensei," Midoriya mumbled before turning toward the door. Todoroki looked over the girl one more time before following the broccoli haired boy through the exit.

"Tch!" Bakugo scoffed before muttering, "You'd better get better soon, nerd," and walking through the door to head off to class.

The rest of the day's classes were handled by Present Mic while Aizawa stayed next to his cousin's bedside. Everything seemed to be leveling out, but Recovery Girl said she would like to monitor the girl through the night to be on the safe side. Sighing heavily, Aizawa's tired eyes itched and burned as if he'd kept them open for days, but he refused to close them even for a moment.

"She's going to be alright, Aizawa," the deep voice of Enji Todoroki could be heard from the doorway. Aizawa looked up to see the man in question leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed and head tilted down toward the floor.

"Recovery Girl said she could probably go home tonight, but she's decided to monitor Y/N through the night to see if there's any problems she didn't catch." The raven haired male shifted his form forward, elbows resting on his knees while his callused hands rubbed his face harshly. "Seems tome, I'm not doing such a great job with this watching kids stuff, at least when it comes to my own flesh and blood."

"Well you're looking at the wrong person about parenting advice," Enji admitted. A sarcastic puff of a laugh passed through the other man's lips.

"Now do you understand why I asked for your help?" Aizawa asked while staring at the floor. "You might be able to help her control the heat rather than be enveloped by it. I'm almost certain she could have handled more, but she'd used up quite a bit of energy to bust out of your boy's ice prison."

"That was rather impressive," Enji admitted. "His mother would be proud of him."

"Would you be willing to train her up?" Aizawa asked, his voice so quiet it almost went unheard over the sounds of the health monitors.

"I'll tell my boy he's coming home this weekend," Enji said. "We'll start out with the basics for now, but I'll tell him he's there to be a sort of extinguisher until we get a little further in her training."

"Thank you," Aizawa said thankfully, although the way he'd referred to his own son as nothing more than a fire safety instrument annoyed him to no end, he understood that it would have to be that way for now. The goal was to work up her heat resistance, not mock battle...at least for now.

"Now that that's settled," Recovery Girl interrupted the silence, "you two can get out of here and go home. I've got this one covered, so don't worry about it." Aizawa rose from his very uncomfortable seat and bowed to the older woman in gratitude. Enji kicked himself off the door frame and walked toward the exit without saying another word.

"Shoto's not going to like this," he mused to himself. "That boy will avoid anything to do with me, but if I tell him this is for the benefit of a classmate, he may agree." Out in the car park, he climbed into his car and sat for a moment, his hands gripping the steering wheel, contemplating how to ask his own son for his assistance. Or when it would be most convenient for him to send his son a text or make a phone call to him about the situation. His brows furrowed with trepidation, the prospect of getting yet another earful of how his son had no intention of ending up like his own father was a daunting prospect. When he looked at his phone, he saw the opportunity he had been needing looking him in the face with a text from his daughter, Fuyumi. Still, it didn't give him much of a boost in mood. Sighing heavily and turning the key in the ignition, his mind made up on his course of action revealed itself.