"5.28 seconds!"
Meeting Aizawa at the end of the fifty-meter dash, he handed me a strange looking device.
"Squeeze it as hard as you can," He began, "It'll measure your strength,"
Doing as told I gripped the handle as hard as I could, my knuckles growing white from the force I was placed on the machine, squeezing it until a small beep reached my ears. Showing the results to Aizawa he wrote down my score; 67.23 Kg.
Going through the rest of the test, I couldn't really use my quirk all that much like the side step test, but on the long jump, I used my fire to project me across the sandy chunk of land.
Tossing me a baseball with a strange looking blue ring around its center, Aizawa took out a phone of sorts.
Getting the subtle hint, I threw the ball as far as I could, a large blast of hot flames boosting the circular object out into the field, the tracker in Aizawa's hands beeping and showing off a 349.19.
"So how did I do?" I asked, picking up my backpack that was slumped on the ground nearby, throwing it over my shoulder.
"You got 6th in the class. Now go home, your parents will worry," With that said, my teacher walked back into school, more than likely going in to finish upgrading our class assignments, other teacher work, or taking a nap in his sleeping bag.
Watching as Aizawa disappeared behind the school doors, I began my tread home. Walking out of the school gates, my mind couldn't help but wander back to what Aizawa had said.
"Now go home, your parents will worry,"
Shaking my head, a sad smile wore down on my lips, the memory of my parents coming back to me.
"We have to leave her," The hushed voices of my parents spoke as my Mother's hand covered my mouth, muffling my cries, as the stinging pain in my bach intensified.
"She's hurt! We can't just leave her-"
"We can't just walk into a hospital either! They would arrest us the instant we stepped foot in there! She needs medical attention, and if we try to get her there, a cp or a hero sees here with us and figure out she's our kid they will automatically deem her as a potential villain and treat her just as such," My Dad spoke, his eyes looking down at my back, the blood seeping through the tightly knotted shirt that was wrapped around it.
I could hear a soft sigh as a rough calloused hand brushed against my head softly. "If we make a loud enough noise in the direction, the Police will immediately come this way, see Y/n and bring her straight to the hospital, while their attention is on her safety, we make a run for it, understand?"
I couldn't concentrate as my mind began to grow fuzzy with pain. But the next thing I knew, was my father, who was once barely whispering, was now clashing a ten-ton hunk of the ruble against the fallen beam that had just moments ago left a deep wound in my back.
With the loud noise booming through the crumbling building, there were audible yells from the police, the action making it an obvious fact that they all fell for it. Quickly my Mother bent down giving me one last kiss, saying; "Don't worry baby, we'll be back to see you before you can say welcome back," with that she and Father ran for it.
Just as they left, three police officers walked in, each immediately calling for a medic and running to my bleeding form, the amount of blood loss finally taking it's toll on my body as my eyes began to droop.
"I'm home!" Kicking off my shoes by the door, I heard a set of six-year-old footsteps running towards me, my gut tightening at the realization at what was to come.
Before I knew it Mikoto came running around the corner, his full-on sprint stopping when his head collided with my gu causing me to coil over, gripping my stomach tightly in pain.
"HA! Grandma says that's for being late and not calling!" The blackette spoke proudly as his fists found their place at his hips. Groaning I gave the younger boy a glare.
"You could have been a bit gentler!" I yelled, reaching out to grab Mikoto by the collar only for him to duck underneath my arm and run back into the kitchen. Tripping on my socks, I chased after him, turning the sharp corner from the entrance into the kitchen sharply only for my face to come in contact with a metal cookie sheet. an audible 'Twang!' ringing throughout the house and my ears.
Holding my now sore nose, Mikoto laughed, as Grandma placed the baking sheet on the counter, continuing to prepare dinner.
"Where were you today? Hanging out with that Todoroki kid I assume? Did he enjoy the treats?" Listening to my Grandmother's questioning I rubbed my nose, trying to ease the leftover soreness.
"I wasn't hanging out with Todoroki, I had an assignment I needed to catch up on, and I have no idea, we only talked when I gave him the bento, from what I saw he didn't seem all that interested in it," I said, walking over to the island, sitting on top of a bar stool.
"Well, when did you give it to him?" She asked, placing some vegetables in a pot that boiled viciously on the stove top.
"As soon as I saw him in class,"
"Well, there is your problem, Nobody enjoys eating sweets so early in the morning, and no one is really fully awake by then to care or notice their off behavior. I'm sure he enjoyed them just fine Y/n," Grandma explained, trying to defend Todoroki. Something told me she took a liking to the boy rather quickly.
"I know that! But sometimes he's hard to read. Was Grandpa ever like that with you?" I questioned, setting Mikoto's chair back on all fours as he began to try and balance on the back two.
"Oh no, sweetie! Grandpa was a very transparent man!" Grandma spoke, causing me to sweatdrop at the unhelpful tip. "But your Father, he was rather difficult, he never liked talking about his feelings, especially when he met your Mother," As Grandma went on about my older parental figures, my mind drifted off to the upcoming sports festival, and how much I would have to train for it.
Maybe I should go to the park with Mikoto and train for a while.

YOU ARE READING
Mending What Broke: Todoroki Shoto x Reader
FanfictionThe balance between good and evil is anything but simple. People easily assume it's nothing more than black and white. No in-between. But some people are forced, manipulated, or tricked into doing both evil and good. They have no place to go. No sid...