Not in the Job Description

by IidaRei98

Summary:

A collection of drabbles revolving around the Dadazawa and Class 1A. Mostly fluff with some hurt/comfort - whatever pops into my head really!

Chapter 1: The Top Bun

When Aizawa had started teaching at UA he’d had the option to turn down pro hero work. Most Pro’s never stopped working completely, even after retirement they still were there to lend a hand in emergencies, and in UA this had proved to be more helpful than Principle Nezu had hoped for. Regardless, it still was uncommon for the teachers to hold up two jobs full time. 

 

But hell, Mic had three. 

 

Aizawa had opted to do as much pro work as possible when he signed his teaching contract. With the popularity of Pro’s on the rise thanks to merchandising and increased media reports, underground work was becoming less and less prominent so teaching had seemed like the most stable route for a steady income for someone like Aizawa. Like hell was he letting the underground career die out with him though. The thought of fame and popularity that came with most hero work nowadays made him shudder. 

 

But because of that, Aizawa often found himself out on patrol on a weekday. 

 

Perfect for an insomniac like him. 

 

It was about half an hour before he was due out this current Wednesday and the pro decided that coffee was what was needed. 

 

It was approaching 9pm so most of the students had already eaten dinner and were either milling about the common room or doing work in their rooms but as Aizawa turned the corner into the kitchen he came face to face with Ashido, Yaoyoruzu, Jiro and Hagakure. 

 

“Sensei!” Ashido cried with so much excitement Aizawa could have probably rethought the coffee. “Are you going on patrol tonight?”

 

“Yes,” Aizawa replied wearily, searching the back of the cupboards for the coffee filters. There was a buzz between the four girls as they moved, as one, round the kitchen counters to the sofa’s just outside. Aizawa caught glimpses of conversation as he made a drink.

 

“This would be perfect,”

 

“Do you have everything you need?”

 

“He won’t be angry will he?”

 

Aizawa turned on his heel and faced the group but Ashido beat him to it.

 

“Sensei, can we do your hair?”

 

“No,” he replied turning back. 

 

“Awh but please! You won’t regret it I promise!” Ashido pleaded, Aziawa scowling from his turned position.

 

“It’s a good idea! And you’ll look cool,” Hagakure added doing some sort of pose with her arms. Aizawa envisioned finger guns. Jiro shrugged in confirmation, a grin on her face and even Yaoyoruzu was curling her own hair round her fingers looking up at her teacher. 

 

“It won’t take a moment,” she said. 

 

Aizawa stared down at his students, their hopeful faces beaming up at him. He looked at his watch, twenty five minuets before he was due out. He eyed up his coffee, still brewing. 

 

“Will it be less than five minutes?” he asked.

 

There were gasps.

 

“Definitely!” Ashido confirmed. 

 

“Only if I can drink coffee at the same time,” he replied, picking up his cup. There was a commotion between the girls as they ran round to the sofas, moving their work so Aizawa could sit down. Hagakura was even jumping in the air. 

 

Aziawa sat and placed his coffee down on the table in front of him, not sure of what to do with all this attention from his students. Luckily Ashido, Hagakura and Yaoyoruzu were stood behind him, only Jiro sat next to him, using her fingertips to scrap loose bits of hair, carefully out of his eyes and away from his scar. 

 

Ashido was much firmer with her actions, as she started combing her teachers hair through her fingers, pulling it up to the top of his head. Hagakura would interject with ‘missed a bit’ and ‘oh over there’ and Yaoyoruzu was handing the pink skinned girl hair bands and hair clips as she pleased. 

 

All the girls seemed comfortable and happy with their work, pleased to be working on their teachers hair. It was a nice feeling for Aizawa… not that he’d admit that. 

 

A couple of minuets after they’d started Jiro pulled away from her teacher with a grin plastered on her face, looking at him front on and then up to the girls.

 

“It looks sick,” she smiled. 

 

“Oh let me get a mirror!” Ashido cried, coming round to look at her handiwork as she did. “Actually Hagakura can you grab yours?”

 

“Sure!” came the reply and Aizawa heard footsteps pad off in one direction. 

 

“Can I move yet?” Aizawa asked.

 

“Two seconds, you have to see what we’ve done first!” Ashido pleaded and Aizawa resigned, grabbing his coffee once more. Hagakura returned once more, a mirror floating in the air towards Aizawa’s face.

 

“Here you go!” she smiled as the mirror came to a stop. 

 

Aizawa looked. And stared. 

 

His hair had been dragged up in what seemed to be a tight top knot, tied by a few hairbands and decorated with an assortment of clips, it billowed out of one side almost fashionably but stayed in place as he turned from side to side.

 

“Now when you use your quirk your hair won’t give it away!” Ashido beamed, gauging her teachers reaction. 

 

Aizawa stared at her dumbfounded. 

 

“It was Ashido’s idea,” Yaoyoruzu smiled.

 

“Try it,” Jiro prompted.

 

And so, Aizawa who wasn’t used to such an audience, did. His capture weapon rose to fit into his hands and his eyes glowed their usual red but his hair, although lifting slightly, stayed exactly where it was. 

 

“It worked!” Ashido beamed.

 

“Awh neat!” Jiro commented as well. 

 

“Do you like it?” Yaoyoruzu asked, Aizawa staring back at his four smiling students.

 

“Yes,” he finally managed still startled at the simplicity of it. “Thank you,”

 

Aizawa didn’t think four girls could smile any wider. 

 

“Right let me hairspray it in place and then we’ll leave you in peace,” Ashido said, standing back round her teacher, Jiro lifted her hand to shield her teachers eyes and Aizawa let her, closing them regardless. After a hiss of a hairspray can, the girls got up and padded back round to the kitchen.

 

“Good luck tonight Sensei!” they all cheered before walking back to the main corridor of dorms chatting and giggling amongst themselves.

 

Aizawa was left in the kitchen, raising his hand to feel his new hairstyle.

 

On patrol, nobody commented on the new look or the pink butterfly clips and by the next day Aizawa had called  Ashido, Yaoyoruzu, Jiro and Hagakure to his room. 

 

Once they’d knocked he opened the door clutching at a pack of bobby pins.

 

“Teach me,” he growled.

 

The smiles on their damn faces.

Chapter 2: The Floating Caterpillar

Summary:

They were about halfway through the movie when Aizawa felt a weight growing heavy on top of his right shoulder. It would have worked out fine if ten minuets later he hadn’t found himself floating.

or

Uraraka activates her quirk on a helpless Aizawa during movie night and disaster ensues.

Notes:

Thank you all so much for reading the first chapter! This one is purely for fun and fluff so I hope it makes you smile :) I know this update has been quick but I have the writing bug aha! If you left a suggestion, know for a fact that its in the works! ;) Feel free to leave any prompts at the end of this chapter as well and thank you again for reading!

It wasn’t uncommon for class 1A to have a movie night in the dorms. It was a good way of keeping the students quiet and it had been a long time since Aizawa had actually sat down and watched a movie series in its entirety. They were getting through Harry Potter because somehow neither Todoroki, Aizawa or Urakaka had watched any of them despite the fact that Urakaka had read the whole book series.

 

This particular Sunday the class were sat in the common room watching the Goblet of Fire. Aizawa had bagged himself the middle spot on the sofa with Yaoyoruzu on one side of him and Urakaka on the other. He’d put on his sleeping bag regardless and had zipped it up to the chin so he could fall asleep during the boring parts because it was a movie and there were bound to be boring parts. Aoyama and Midoryia were awkwardly jumbled together on an arm chair and Jiro, Bakugou and Kirishima had bagged the other sofa leaving the rest of the students scattered about the floor, Hagakura continually passing Todoroki popcorn kernels to pop with his quirk. 

 

They were about halfway through the movie when Aizawa felt a weight growing heavy on top of his right shoulder. He tried moving his leg but found a weight holding that down as well. He realised what had happened and sighed softly.

 

Urakaka had fallen asleep, her head resting upon the top of AIzawa’s slumped shoulder and her body curled to the side, every once in a while shifting as she murmured in her dreams. 

 

Aizawa wasn’t surprised, they’d had a hell of a week with the provisional licensing exam just gone and a double essay to complete this weekend, even the most explosive of his students were subdued. No one else had seemed to noticed the unconscious girl so Aizawa felt content leaving her there. He knew what was coming up in the movie would no doubt cause a ruckus among the teenagers which would no doubt wake her up. She’d get embarrassed and he wouldn’t mention anything, everything would work out fine. And hopefully before his leg went numb.

 

It would have worked out fine if ten minuets later he hadn’t found himself floating. He was only about an inch off the sofa but it was enough for him to notice where this could be heading.

 

“Urakaka,” he whispered softly so as not to disturb anyone else. The girl shifted in her sleep but didn’t show any signs of waking.

 

Brilliant.

 

As it was, the weight of the poor girl across his leg was the only thing that was holding him somewhat to the ground. He tried looking down to erase her quirk but he couldn’t get a good enough look at her to do it, thanks to his sleeping bag. He also couldn’t move his arms enough to get to the zip without toppling her weight and sending him straight to the ceiling like a novelty helium balloon. 

 

“Yaoyoruzu,” he tried whispering but the girl was engrossed in the movie, her eyes glossed over the screen. He tried nudging her with his hand in the sleeping bag but couldn’t get it over far enough.

 

“Midoryia,” he hissed, the boy being the second closest to where he was sat. The idiot child had definitely heard something but looked in the opposite direction suspiciously. 

 

This was ridiculous.

 

“Problem child,” he tried with no luck. “Midoriya. Problem. Problem. Problem child,”

 

Aizawa sighed.

 

“Deku,”

 

That got the boys attention. Midoryia instantly whipped his head round with such a look of fear on his face it was almost pitiful. He stared doe eye’d at his teacher as Aizawa used his own eyes to point downwards at his situation. The teen instantly covered his face so as not to laugh causing Aizawa’s eyes to roll. 

 

“Would you just help me?” his teacher growled.

 

“Oh yes sorry Sensei,” Midoryia smiled softly, at this point Aoyama catching onto the situation. Midoryia leant across to his best friend and nudged her gently. “Urakaka,” he hummed. “Hey wake up,”

 

But instead of waking up, the young girl decided to lean over to where Midoryia’s arm was outstretched, curving her body towards him.

 

“Wait no-“

 

But it was too late. The instant the weight was off of him, Aizawa started rising in the air, slowly at first but then faster and faster as he grappled to remove himself from his sleeping bag. Yaoyoruzu was so startled that she jumped out of her seat causing the majority of Class 1-A to turn their heads to watch as their teacher flounging mid-air like some sort of idiotic flying caterpillar having a Kaminari induced electric shock.

 

“Urakaka!”

 

“Oi! Round Face!”

 

“Oh my God!”

 

“Wake up!”

 

“Urakaka get up!”

 

The whole class erupted calling and yelling at Urakaka, the movie reaching a climax in the background. Urakaka immediately came to with a shock, receding back into the sofa with a yelp. 

 

Oh and releasing her quirk in the process. 

 

There was an almighty crash as the form of their homeroom teacher fell from the ceiling two meters up, straight onto the floor, narrowly missing Iida in the process.

 

“Hurmph,” he gasped as the wind shot out of him. “Ow,” came the afterthought.

 

“Aizawa-Sensei are you okay?” Iida cried, his arms going like a hyperactive windmill.

 

“Yes I’m fine,” Aizawa grunted, getting up groggily from the floor. Urakaka looked as if she had just murdered someone, staying completely silent as Aizawa unzipped his sleeping bag and stretched, cracking more than a few bones in the process. “It’s a good cushion,” he told nobody in particular holding up his sleeping bag.

 

“Sensei I’m so sorry!” Urakaka finally cried, coming to her senses. “I didn’t realise! You’re not hurt are you? I’m so sorry,” 

 

“You’re alright,” Aizawa sighed. “I shouldn’t have immobilised myself like that anyway. You caught me off guard,” he smirked.

 

“I didn’t do it on purpose I swear!” Urakaka continued to yelp as Aizawa shooed her away, getting back onto the sofa. He expected everyone to go back to watching the movie but as he sat there were still nineteen pairs of eyes on him. 

 

“I’m okay,” he reiterated to his students. There was a split second and Ashido burst out laughing. 

 

“Oh God you should have seen yoursel-“

 

She was cut off by Aizawa’s hair rising.

 

“Can we rewind the movie? I missed a bit,” Todoroki said from nowhere. The boy hadn’t moved an inch, his eyes still on the screen as he turned back to his classmates in confusion  

 

“DID YOU JUST MISS THAT WHOLE THING?!”

 

“What the hell IcyHot?!”

 

“DID YOU NOT SEE WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!”

 

“Todoroki you’re a beast,”

 

And the class erupted again.

Chapter 3: Shopping List

Summary:

Every week Class 1A makes a shopping list.
Every week Present Mic 'helps out'.
Every week it goes wrong.

Oh and if you touch Bakugou's biscuits he'll kill you.

Notes:

Hey guys thank you so so much for continuing to read and support this fic!!! I'm starting to write prompts now so keep them coming and keep an eye out in the next couple of days if you've left a prompt already :)
This chapter is based off of the fact that I work at a supermarket packing the online shopping at 4am in the morning and during those shifts I think about the plots to theses chapters a lot aha. It's often funny to see what some people buy in their weekly supermarket shops and that got me wondering - I wonder what Class 1A would be like.
And that led to this. XD
I apologise in advance hehehe
I also apologise for any cultural mistakes I may have made as I know I'm applying a very western concept to a school in Japan aha
Please leave a comment on your way out and I'll be sure to reply xx

At UA most of the lunchtime meals were already provided for. There was a nutritionist on site, alike most schools in Japan and the food was catered towards building up muscle and fuelling the students brains.

 

After the dorms were added, the problem of breakfast and dinner came into view. There could have been caterers on site but the school was lacking funding as it was due to the expansion. So after much discussion, Principle Nezu decided that the school would just order in their food per dorm. That way the students could eat whatever, whenever they wanted when they weren’t in classes. 

 

Which in turn meant that every Sunday, Aizawa had to sit down with his entire class and shop online through the new UA system.

 

That concept lasted for a week. Because it took twenty minuets for Aoyama to choose the type of chocolate milk he wanted so Aizawa gave that up before he murdered the boy.

 

Nowadays, he texted Hizashi to come up to the floor and after bribing him with the thought of spending as much time together as possible after they'd done, the pro usually took to dramatically standing on a table.

 

A good thing in hindsight. Kaminari, Iida and Asui, who were lounging on the sofas, only just managed to plug their ears.

 

“HEYYYYYYYY YoOooOOoOOOo!!!! LISTEN UPPPPPPPPP listeNNNERRSSSSS!!!!!! YOUR EVER THOUGHTFUL AND INNNSANELLYYY TALENTED TEACHER-“

 

“Cut that out,” Aizawa growled from beneath him. 

 

“-iS DOING THE sHoPPiNg LISTTTT!!!! SO GET YOUR ORDERS IN YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”

 

“Alright enough, that’ll do,” Aizawa said pulling him down from the table. 

 

“Got any snacks??” Hizashi asked immediately, deactivating his quirk and stretching up slightly. 

 

“I’m about to do the shopping, what do you think?” Aizawa snapped, opening his laptop and sitting at the kitchen table. Kaminari was bashing one side of his head in an attempt to unblock his ears and Asui was hiding her herself under Iida’s forearm, Iida simply shell-shocked from the noise, sitting like a plank in the middle of the sofa. 

 

“Awh, someone’s angryyyy,” Hizashi teased, poking Aizawa’s cheek. “It’s okay! I’ll find something!” And with that, he took to the cupboards. 

 

Aizawa grunted in reply, logged into the shopping account and getting started with the basics. 

 

Bread

 

Eggs

 

Rice

 

Rice noodles

 

Soba noodles 

 

Soy sauc-

 

“Sensei?”

 

Aizawa looked up to see the faces of Midoryia and Koda smiling back at him, Koda holding a list. Aizawa held out his hand and the boy passed it over. The pro hero skimmed it and nodded. It was mostly bird seed and hay, supposedly for some of the many creatures Koda had befriended on campus. Usually it would have to come out of the students own funds but due to Koda’s quirk, UA would cover it. 

 

“You need anything?” he asked Midoryia, grabbing a pen from his back pocket to add to the handwritten list. 

 

“Oh umm yes!” Midoryia stuttered. 

 

“I found biscuits!!!!!!” Hizashi cried from behind them. Aizawa ignored him. 

 

“Can I possible get some Brie?” Midoryia finished. 

 

“You what now?” Aizawa asked, eyebrows raised. 

 

“Oh, well it’s cheese,” Midoryia added, his hands trying to over-dramatically accentuate every point. 

 

“I’m aware of that,” 

 

“Err well it’s because Aoyama-“

 

“It’s on the list,” Aizawa sighed, cutting the boy off. The last thing he needed was a three minute explanation on cheese. 

 

“Ah thank you!” Midoryia smiled before bouncing off, Koda following him, signing in conversation as he did. 

 

Good. Koda could ask about the damn Brie. 

 

Aizawa looked back to the screen as Hizashi sat next to him, shoving a biscuit under his nose. 

 

“Wannnnnt oneeee?” he smiled. 

 

“Those are Bakugou’s,” Aizawa noted. “He’ll kill you,” 

 

“I’ll take my chances,” Hizashi grinned as Todoroki crossed the corridor. He looked over at the table and raised one eye. 

 

“Shopping?” he asked. 

 

“Yeahhhh!!!” Hizashi replied for the two. “Anything you want kiddo?” 

 

“Soba,” Todoroki said simply. 

 

“On the list,” Aizawa replied and Todoroki gave a nod, walking off. “How about you guys?” he called to the sofas. 

 

“No thank you Aizawa-Sensei!” Iida cried. “I trust your judgment!”

 

“Good, good,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Earplugs?” Kaminari grinned at Hizashi. 

 

“Oi cut it out little zappy listener!” Hizashi called back. 

 

“Seaweed?” Asui asked, appearing from under Iida’s arm. 

 

“Sea salt, soy sauce or wasabi flavour?” Aizawa asked, scrolling through the website. 

 

“Hmmm, sea salt please,” Asui replied. “Thank you Sensei,” 

 

“No problem,” he smiled back. He unashamedly had a lot of time for the student. 

 

As he was adding it to the basket, Todoroki walked back in, hanging slightly in the doorway. 

 

“Are those Bakugou’s biscuits?” 

 

“Yeahhhhh?” Hizashi asked. 

 

“He’ll kill you...” Todoroki warned before walking away once more. 

 

Hizashi replied by taking another out of the packet. 

 

There was quiet for a while. Yaoyorozu came in asking for full fat milk to aid in her quirk training, then offering to make Aizawa a cup of coffee which he gratefully accepted. Sato asked for more baking powder and cupcake cases for his baking (he was the only student really allowed food in his room), Ashido requested blister plasters and Jiro asked for a specific type of tofu (apparently she was making miso soup for everyone’s breakfast next week). Aizawa wrote them down and added them to the list, sipping his drink. 

 

Birdseed

 

Hay

 

Brie

 

Six pints of full fat milk

 

Six pints of semi-skimmed milk

 

Baking pow-

 

“Excuse me Aizawa-Sensei,” 

 

Aizawa looked up at Uraraka and mustered a smile. 

 

“How can I help?” he tried, with as little sarcasm as possible. He didn’t mean it, Urakaka was a gifted, strong willed student. He was just tired. 

 

“Can I put porridge on the list?” she asked tentatively. “I know I’m the only one that really eats it and I’m running out,” 

 

“Yes of course,” Aizawa replied, typing it into the search box and twisting the screen round. “What flavour?”

 

“Oh just the cheapest is fine,” the girl insisted. 

 

“How about this one?” Aizawa pointed. “It’s got extra protein or something and it’s on offer,” 

 

Urakaka turned her hair over her fingers. 

 

“This measly shop won’t make a dent on UA’s budget,” he assured her. He knew that living on the poverty line was something that Urakaka was painfully used to and so reassuring her that here at UA she was paid for, was an ongoing issue. 

 

“Okay,” she agreed smiling. “Thank you,” 

 

“It’s alright,” he replied, flipping the screen back towards him. 

 

“Want a biscuit??” Hizashi asked the girl. 

 

God, Aizawa had forgotten he was there. 

 

“Are those Bakugou’s?” Urakaka asked tentatively. 

 

“Mmm hmm,” Hizashi replied. 

 

“No thank you then. I’d like to live to see next week,” Uraraka stated, so seriously it caused Aizawa to snort and nearly choke on his coffee. 

 

“Hmm?” Hizashi mumbled through a mouthful of crumbs but the teen had joined Asui and Iida on the sofa. 

 

Aizawa went back to the list. 

 

Cupcake cases

 

Aizawa added some half priced silver sugar sprinkles to the list. He knew Sato would appreciate it. 

 

Tofu

 

And if Jiro was planning on miso soup then he knew for a fact they needed more-

 

Miso paste 

 

As Aizawa moved onto veg, more students trailed in. Ojiro, Shoji, Hagakura and Sero were in charge of cooking for the evening meal and as they started preparing food around their two teachers, they double checked the cupboards for any 'essentials' their teacher may have missed. 

 

“Are you staying for dinner Mic?” Ojiro asked his teacher as he started cutting up carrots behind him. 

 

“Oh I'm not hungry!!” Hizashi beamed back at him. “It's looking good though!!” 

 

“He’s been eating Bakugou’s biscuits,” Aizawa commented pointedly. 

 

“Bakugou’s?” Shoji asked suspiciously. 

 

“Woah that’s brave!” Sero laughed from the fridge. 

 

“I hope he doesn’t get angry!” Hagakure agreed. 

 

“No he’ll kill you,” Ojiro deadpanned. Aizawa smirked at Hizashi’s confused face before going back to the task at hand. No one had requested anything that wasn’t already in the cupboards and Tokoyami and Mineta wanted things that UA wouldn’t offer to pay for. 

 

“Why do you want black paint and noise cancelling foam?” he’d questioned them. 

 

“Room improvements,” Mineta suggested. 

 

“Use your own money,” Aizawa growled. “Tokoyami I appreciate you’re getting Dark Shadow accustomed to the dark but there are other ways to do it,”

 

He didn’t asked why Mineta wanted to block the sound from his room. 

 

He didn’t want to know. 

 

“And yes,” Aizawa started, noticing Tokoyami's gaze moving from him to Hizashi. “Those are Bakugou’s biscuits,”

 

“Good luck, he’ll kill you,” Tokoyami said gruffly before the two boys moved away. 

 

“What is with you kids???” Hizashi cried but got no reply. 

 

Aoyama walked through the room in silk pyjamas as Aizawa was adding cabbage to the list. 

 

“Want any brie?” he teased causing the boy to turn in surprise. 

 

“Pardon?” he asked, clearly having no idea what his teacher was talking about. 

 

“Heyyyyy Aoyama!!” Hizashi called, getting restless beside his best friend. “Haowww doo yuu spelll biss-quit in Ing-lish?” he quizzed the poor boy in phonetic English. 

 

Aoyama translated what his teacher was saying, stared at him for second, then stared at the packet in Hizashi’s hand, his eyes widening, before replying, again in perfect phonetic English. 

 

“Arrrr, iii, peee”

 

Rip

 

This time Aizawa did choke on his coffee and Iida had to run over to furiously pat him on the back until his teacher winced for him to stop. 

 

Once Aoyama and Iida had settled down on the sofas with the rest of their classmates, Aizawa went through the finished shop, adding coffee filters and sweetener to the list. He clicked on the checkout button and looked up. 

 

“Right I’m paying. Is there anything else anyone can think of?” he asked no one in particular, seeing as most of his students had wondered over to the common room area, waiting for dinner. There were various shakes of heads and Aizawa was about to pay through UA’s system when the door to the boys rooms burst open. 

 

“Wait, Aizawa,” came a growl and round the corner Bakugou appeared seemingly dragging Kirishima behind him.

 

Bakugou looked like he’d had a fight with a red felt tip pen and lost, his fingertips and palms bright red, his sleeves rolled up. Kirishima looked even worse for wear, he was wearing a stained T-shirt and his hair was covered by a bright All Might beenie. Bakugou tossed his best friend forwards in front of the teachers, one of which was trying to suspiciously hide his biscuits wrappers. 

 

“What happened?” Aizawa growled. 

 

“Ask him,” Bakugou prompted, a pissed off expression written across his face. 

 

“Can you put... hair dye on the list,” Kirishima sighed, straightening up and looking sheepishly at his teachers and explosive classmate. 

 

“That needs to come out of your personal money,” Aizawa replied, his eyes narrowed. 

 

“But I need it tomorrow! Please!” Kirishima suddenly cried, bowing over the table. “It’s awful!”

 

“WHAT ARE YOU SAYING ABOUT MY HAIR DYEING SKILLS EH?!”

 

“Nothing! You just didn’t get the roots man!”

 

“Is that my hat?” a voice suddenly piped up from the sofas.

 

“YOU TOLD ME TO STAY AWAY FROM YOUR SCALP!”

 

“Yeah but not an inch away!”

 

“Is that my hat??”

 

“AN INCH MY ARSE, SHITTY HAIR,”

 

“I’ll prove it! Give me a ruler!”

 

“Is that my HAT?!”

 

“SHUT UP DEKU! OF COURSE IT'S YOUR HAT. ITS AN ALL MIGHT HAT!”

 

“My All Might hat!!”

 

Aizawa rubbed his temples.

 

“Kirishima give Midoryia his hat back,” he ordered. “It can’t be that bad,”

 

It was.

 

There was a tricolour mix of shades in Kirishima’s hair from the dark black roots to the greying red clumps that made up the middle areas to the bright red tips and patches Bakugou had actually managed to cover. 

 

“My hat’s been dye’d as well,” Midoryia muttered from beside them.

 

“It was already red you idiot,” Bakugou snapped at him.

 

“You’ll both be paying for a new hat for Midoryia,” Aizawa scoulded. “And Kirishima you’ll be paying me back for the hair dye,” he finished, clicking back on the computer. He didn't get paid enough for this.

 

“Really you'll add it?! Thank you Sensei!” Kirishima cried as he ran round the table to pick out the colour he needed. 

 

“I’m only doing this because I know otherwise you won’t actually turn up to class tomorrow,” Aizawa warned. “Get someone else to dye your hair next time or they'll be bigger consequences,”

 

He expected Bakugou to explode again but he didn’t.

 

"Yes Sensei, thank you Sensei," Kirishima gabbled. 

 

“You don’t have to pay for the hat,” Midoryia said, still inspecting the damage.

 

“It was your property and they damaged it, they’ll both be helping to replace it,” Aizawa confirmed. “Got it Bakugou?”

 

But Bakugou wasn’t listening. He had his eyes narrowed on the floor beside Hizashi’s feet, his hands charging up and flickering. Hizashi himself had paled slightly and the entire room had silenced.

 

“Did you eat my creamy strawberry hello panda biscuits?” Bakugou spat in a low whisper. 

 

Aizawa was ‘too busy putting hair dye into the shopping basket’ to immediately erase his students quirk.

 

Besides the look on Hizashi’s face was priceless.

Chapter 4: Buckaroo

Summary:

How many items can you place on a sleeping Aizawa?

Many, oh so many.

Notes:

Hey beautiful people, so sorry it has been a while since the last upload, it's been a busy few days!
This chapter was meant to be a prompt chapter from the amazing Mesonoxian and KenzieFive who asked for makeup/eyeliner but it divulged into a completely different storyline so I think I'm going to try and do the prompt a bit more justice in a future chapter!!
Thank you for all your continued support on this fic I am overwhelmed!!

Enjoy the mayhem! xx

Mic whistled to himself as he walked down the corridor to class 1-A. It was nearly 11am and time for the class to take his English lesson. Usually he could hear them from this distance, the usual shouts of Bakugou or cries from Iida. 

 

But today nothing. 

 

As the pro hero burst through the door he was surprised to see all the students still sat at their desks, bent over their work. 

 

“Mic-Sensei?” the confused voice of Midoryia asked, looking up from his worksheet. “Wa-what are you doing here?”

 

“I’ve come to teach you little listeners English!” he cried energetically. “Woah where’s the energy gone dudes?”

 

“But it’s… Wait what?” Jiro suddenly yelped looking at the clock on the far wall. “It’s next lesson?!” 

 

“What?!” Iida suddenly cried, standing wildly. “But that means we’ve run over time for the test! That’s cheating! How will we come back from the shame of being a class full of cheats?..” he continued muttering.

 

“Hell yeah!” Kaminari beamed. “Thank God for that!”

 

“You still haven’t finished,” Jiro pointed out. 

 

“But I was close,” he retorted with a finger click.

 

“Where is Aizawa-Sensei?” Yaoyoruzu piped up from the corner. Everyone turned to her, then around the classroom. 

 

“Eh, he’s here,” Hizashi announced pointing down to the floor beside their teachers desk. More than a few of the students craned their heads over to look at what Mic was pointing at. 

 

Their homeroom teacher was curled in his sleeping bag, completely out of it, his mouth slightly open and his face relaxed.

 

“Is he dead?” Todoroki asked. A few students laughed before realising the boy was being serious, looking to their English teacher for a confirmation. 

 

“If he’s dead what do we do?”

 

“Contact his family?”

 

“Does he have a family?”

 

“He’s got to have a family,”

 

“Who says?”

 

“Isn’t there a rule that if someone dies in a test everyone passes?”

 

“Kaminari!”

 

“The rule is that you’d get your predicted grade so either way you’re screwed,”

 

“Oi!”

 

“If he is dead then there might still be time to perform CPR!”

 

“We don’t know how long he’s been dead for though,”

 

“So is he dead?!”

 

“What?! No!” Hizashi cried in response, silencing the class. “Hold up little listeners! He’s just asleep. Someone collect the tests, I’ll wake him up,”

 

The excitement over, IIda and Yaoyoruzu pulled their chairs back and began to get up, others stretching and getting out their English books.

 

“Can’t we play a prank on him?” Jiro spoke up before she could stop herself. Hizashi, who was about to shake his best friend awake turned to the young girl.

 

“Jiro!” IIda cried. “That is completely unacceptable behaviour for a UA student! We have a reputation to uphold!”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Hizashi agreed halfheartedly. “What did you have in mind?” he asked Jiro, his eyes glinting.

 

Iida looked as if he was going to have a heart attack. 

 

“Oh I err don’t know,” Jiro replied, a little startled by her teachers response. 

 

“Boringgggg,” Hizashi moaned. 

 

“How about we see how many random objects we can put on his sleeping bag?” Midoryia piped up. “Like that game,”

 

“What game?” Uraraka asked.

 

“I used to play it as a kid,” Midoryia replied. “Ahhh what was it called?”

 

“Buckaroo,” Bakugou snarled from beside him. “It was called Buckaroo,” 

 

“Oh yeah! You were so good at it Kacchan,”

 

“Shut up Deku,”

 

“I like it!” Hizashi posed, pointing at the green haired boy. “How does it work?”

 

“Well we each take a turn putting something on top of Aizawa-Sensei and then whoever wakes him up is the loser,” he explained. 

 

“Awh sounds sick!” Kirishima smiled. 

 

Iida’s pulse rose. 

 

“Allllrighttt!!” Hizashi yelled in a whisper. “Choose your weapon wisely and line up in an orderly manner!!! Let’s goooo!”

 

“Mic-Sensei!” IIda intterupted, hand held high. “Shouldn’t we really be learning English?”

 

“Oh yeah!” Hizashi smiled. “Okayyy!! Every item you put on your teacher has to be named in English first!”

 

Kaminari, who’d picked up his calculator to begin with looked at the object with confusion before placing it down again.

 

“Sh-u,” Todoroki announced, holding up his school shoe before placing it on top of the sleeping bag precautiously. There was a moment that it wobbled before it stayed delightfully in place.

 

“Alllllright!” Hizashi before being hushed by his giggling students. Todoroki smiled slightly before walking back to his seat.

 

“He’s not dead,” he confirmed as he did.

 

Ayoama was next. 

 

“Croissant,”

 

“That’s not an English word,” Hizashi reprimanded.

 

“Ah but it’s not Japanese, oui?” Ayoama replied placing the wrapped snack inside Todoroki’s shoe.

 

“Can he do that?” Uraraka asked.

 

“Technically yes,” Midoryia replied looking at Bakugou for confirmation. The explosive boy just shrugged in response.

 

Ashido placed her hairbrush on top of Aizawa’s feet, Ojiro his pencil in front of that and Sato somehow found a random icing pen shoved at the bottom of his bag to put on top of his teacher. Asui used her novelty pencil case and had managed to shove it inside the sleeping bag so Aizawa has something to cuddle. The atmosphere in the classroom was electric. 

 

“Hare brussh,”

 

“Pen sil,”

 

“Eye sing,”

 

“Toy,”

 

“Good, good!” Hizashi whispered as they returned to their seats. “Who’s next?”

 

Ten minutes later and their once peaceful teacher was littered with an assortment of objects. Only Bakugou, Iida, Midoryia, Jiro and Koda remained and Hizashi had taken to filming the situation in hand. The students who had originally gone back to their seats were now out front again and everyone was watching with bated breath for who would go next. The task had seemed easy at the start but the more items they’d managed to place on their teacher, the more Aizawa had stirred in his sleep. They were so close now, the entire class rooting for their success but the space on their teachers sleeping bag was getting tight. 

 

The game was on.

 

“Snake,” Koda signed to the group. 

 

“Waahhh?!” Hizashi cried as Koda walked to his bag and pulled out a grass snake.

 

“I found it on the road this morning,” the boy continued. “I was going to place it back in the wild at lunch,” he explained. “Don’t worry he won’t bite,”

 

Hizashi backed away, as Koda came forward, speaking softly to the animal before letting him loose to curl around the objects on the sleeping bag. 

 

“That’s my textbook he’s lying on!” Kirishima stuttered.

 

“Next!” Hizashi croaked. 

 

“Desk,” Midoriya spoke up before returning to his own desk, placing his stuff on the floor and picking it up. “There’s kinda this side rule that allows you to place objects over a victim if they can still knock it over when they wake. As long as it’s touching the person its allowed,” he explained before placing the desk gently beside his teacher. He propped one side up against the wall, holding one of the legs against Aizawa’s side so the desk lent on his covered up arm. 

 

“Holy shit,” Kaminari grinned. 

 

“Are we sure this is safe?!” Iida asked worriedly.

 

“Yeah he shouldn’t get too injured if he knocks it,” Midoryia confirmed.

 

“Too injured?” Iida reiterated. He looked around for their English teacher but Hizashi had retreated to the back of the room, far away from the snake.

 

“It’s your go,” Midoryia beamed at him.

 

“Right,” Iida sighed. “I don’t agree with this game but I will participate-“

 

“Just get on with it,” Bakugou growled. “Or he’ll wake up during your go,”

 

Iida paled slightly and hastily went over to his desk. His classmates were expecting him to bring out something small but instead-

 

“En ci chlo pe di a,” 

 

And Iida walked forward, clutching the heaviest item so far, to the front of the room. 

 

“Where’s that going to fit?” Asui asked. It was a fair point. The sleeping bag was completely covered, to the point where items were overlapping each other. Iida didn’t reply, simply walking round to the other end of his teacher. He crouched down and very, very carefully lowered the book down on top of his teachers head.

 

“No. Fucking. Way,” Kaminari whispered as Ashido wacked him to shut him up. The whole class had their breath held, waiting, watching. 

 

The book wobbled to one side, sliding off of the yellow fabric, the students breath hitching. Iida caught it however, repositioning it and carefully, oh so carefully lifting his fingers off. 

 

And. It. Stayed. 

 

The entire class either jumped up or punched the air, hugging on another and grinning from ear to ear. Even Hizashi crept closer again, whipping his phone out once more. 

 

“Most impressive so far!” he announced causing a hiss of annoyance from Bakugou. Iida smiled proudly before realising what he’d just done. 

 

“I’m going to be expelled,” he whispered tearfully, Uraraka going over to comfort him.

 

“Who’s next?”

 

“Me,” Bakugou replied before Jiro had a chance to pipe up herself. “I can use anything I want to my advantage right?” 

 

“Yeahhhhh!”

 

“Okay,” he smiled before walking over to Sero. He whispered in his ear, the boy’s expression changing from one of confusion to that of amusement. 

 

“Sure,” he whispered with a wink. He pulled away from the group, concentrating slightly as he activated his quirk. Tape shot out of his elbows and Bakugou collected it up, walking back to his homeroom teacher and beginning to tape the wall pulling the material from one side to the other so it hung just over his teacher. “I have to have it touching right?” he asked Midoryia.

 

“Right!” 

 

Bakugou taped the loose end to the side of the sleeping bag.

 

“Trap,” he pronounced as he stood up. 

 

The congratulated gasps from his students made the boy grin as he walked back to his group. 

 

“Just Jiro left!” Hizashi grinned with anticipation. 

 

“There’s no space left,” she complained worriedly. “Can I break the rules?” she asked Midoryia. 

 

“Err I guess it depends how and if the rest of the class say yes and...”

 

“Okay good,” she smiled reaching into her back pocket. “Eye line-er,” she pronounced carefully before walking around to her teacher. She knelt beside Aizawa and pulled off the top. “Should I?” she asked nervously. 

 

“Yes!!” the class collectively beamed. 

 

Iida whimpered. 

 

Jiro took a breath and carefully pressed the pencil between her teacher eyebrows filling in the space between them. Giggles echoed around the room, Hizashi zooming his phone in on his best friends face. Jiro finished up and smiled back at her class. 

 

“Give him a moustache!” Ashido prompted. 

 

“Really?” Jiro grinned. 

 

“Yes!!”

 

And so Jiro lent down once more, holding her breath again and pressing the pencil down on the side of Aizawa’s mouth she curled the line around to form a curly moustache. 

 

And that’s when things went ever so slightly wrong. 

 

Jiro was turning the last line around when she noticed her teachers nose twitch in protest. 

 

“Guys,” she whispered. “I think he’s going to sneeze...” 

 

There was a split second you could have heard a pin drop before-

 

“Shit he is, he’s going to sneeze,” Jiro cried this time out loud as she backed away. “Shitshitshitshit! Guys?!” 

 

A couple of the boys ran round to pull her away from their homeroom teacher, the whole class, including Hizashi, backing away from Aizawa as he took a deep breath in;

 

And let out the loudest sneeze they’d heard.  

 

Iida’s encyclopaedia was the first to go flying, it would have landed back on Aizawa’s head if Sero’s tape hadn’t caught it mid-air. Items were falling off left, right and centre at this point as Aizawa came to life, wriggling around in his sleeping bag. Midoryia’s desk came down with a crash beside him as the pro hero shot up, getting tangled in the rest of the tape. He let out a cry, capture weapon rising dangerously before spotting Hizashi directly in front of him. 

 

Still holding his phone up. 

 

“What. The. Fuck,” he screamed. 

 

“Gooood morning Shota!!” Mic cried, unfazed by his reaction. 

 

“You’d better have a good reason for this,” Aizawa snarled, trying to pull away from the tape. “Sero,” he growled dangerously. He looked to his left at the fallen desk. “Who the- how the?” he picked up the encyclopaedia with his free hand flicking to the name printed in the front. “Iida,” he barked. 

 

Iida wished the ground would swallow him whole. 

 

No one told him he still had a eyeliner unibrow and half a moustache on his face. 

 

“WHERE DID THIS SNAKE COME FROM?!”

 

“KODA,”

 

 

Chapter 5: Power Cut pt1

Summary:

Aizawa flicked the switch just inside his room to confirm what he already thought.

The power had completely gone.

OR

Theres a power cut and class 1-a thinks up inventive ways to help their teacher out.

Notes:

So this fic is going to be in two parts (omg ikr) because if I kinda lost control of what was happening and it would end up too long if I tried to fit it into one. When I write I sort of have a prompt in my head and then let the story write itself so this is just one of those occasions where the writing has taken over haha - I hope you don’t mind and still enjoy though!
Also thank you all for commenting and leaving your Kudos - this has been my most popular fic so far and it’s amazing to see people enjoying my writing especially as I don’t consider myself someone who writes comedy very easily haha so really it means a lot <3.
AnYwayyYY I am rambling - enjoy the chapter!

Aizawa was halfway through emailing Principle Nezu the details of the training week the class had been on for the last five days, when the internet went.

 

With a sigh, he clicked on the wifi icon on the top of his laptop screen but the usual UA wifi wasn’t showing up. 

 

Then he heard shouting. 

 

Realising that something more was going on, Aizawa lifted himself from the desk in his room and poked his head outside. 

 

“OI WHO TURNED OUT THE LIGHTS?”

 

“DARK SHADOW RETURN!”

 

“STOP TOUCHING MY- MINETA?! IT’S NOT THAT DARK!”

 

“OW!”

 

“WHY THE FUCK HAS THE TV GONE OFF?!”

 

“LANGUAGE!” Aizawa yelled back, flicking the switch just inside his doorway to confirm what he already thought. 

 

The power had completely gone. 

 

Padding his way down the corridor to the kitchen, he turned towards a little cupboard just beside the sink. He flicked it open and clicked one of the buttons. 

 

There was a buzz and a click and the lights came on, revealing the majority of his students in the common area. They were all in pyjamas, Ashido, Sero, Kaminari and Kirishima hanging over the side of the sofas, Shoji was holding Uraraka in his arms, Iida on floor beside them, obviously having tripped over the girl, setting off his quirk (the ceiling was singed). Dark Shadow was roundhousing his master, Tokoyami just taking it with a thoroughly pissed off look on his face and Mineta was dangling above Yaoyorozu, arms outstretched, from Asui’s tongue.

 

Every student had stopped to stare at their teacher. Aizawa pointed to the cupboard.

 

“Emergency lights,” he explained before wringing his hair through his hands. “The power was out for twenty seconds, how the hell-?”

 

He didn’t get to finish that thought before the room exploded into chatter again. Aizawa didn’t have the energy to yell at them right away. 

 

Midoryia came into the room beside Aizawa, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

 

“Wha happened?” he asked his homeroom teacher, somehow not noticing or caring that the rest of his classmates had descended into chaos.

 

“The power’s gone,” he explained. “The emergency lights are on but there’ll be no electricity. Sorry if this woke you,”

 

“No it didn’t,” Midoryia replied. “My All Might night light went off-“

 

Midoryia clamped his hands over his mouth before he could say anymore. Aziawa raised one eyebrow at him. Midoryia whimpered.

 

“Right! You lot!” Aizawa yelled, trying to get the classes attention. “BE QUIET!” he yelled, stopping them in their tracks. Speaking of attention, Iida came to attention with the sudden volume of his teachers voice. “It is nearly half nine, there are students asleep and if you’re not tired after the week we’ve just had then you haven’t been training hard enough,” 

 

That shut them up. Aizawa twisted round to grab some coffee before he realised that there was no electricity to power the kettle. 

 

Crap.

 

“Now clearly the power has gone off,” Aizawa continued whilst his students were muted. “UA has emergency lights and radio’s but that’s about where it ends. There’s no heating, no wifi and no power. So don’t try anything stupid,” he commanded. In vain.

 

“Aizawa-Sensei,” Aoyama called from the doorway in his usual singsong voice. He entered the room, Todoroki close behind him. They both were carrying plastic bento boxes in their arms. “I noticed that the power wasn’t on and I was just wondering weather that meant that the washing machine’s also weren’t working as all our clothes are still in there for classes tomorrow?”

 

Crap. 

 

Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap. 

 

“Why is that the most sensible thing you’ve said all week?” Aizawa growled as Aoyama crossed him. “What are you doing?” 

 

“I’m collecting my cheese,” Aoyama replied, opening the box and placing it on the counter, Todoroki doing the same. “Now there’s no power the fridge won’t work so Todoroki is going to keep my cheese cool, oui?” 

 

Crap, crapcrapcrapcrap. 

 

Todoroki grunted in response. He’d obviously been woken up by a blond haired visitor during the night. 

 

Suddenly there was a spark of electricity over by the sofas. Aizawa whipped his head around to spot Kaminari buzzing with electricity by the television. Aizawa’s eyes ran red. 

 

“Don’t you dare,” he warned before the boy could do something stupid. “If you’re going to use your quirk use it for the fridge, wait no, Todoroki you use your quirk for the fridge,” 

 

The teen looked up at him and yawned. 

 

“And the freezer,” Aizawa added. 

 

Todoroki rubbed his eyes and placed one hand on the fridge activating his quirk. There was a crackle and the whole thing became incased in ice. 

 

Including Aoyama. 

 

“Todoroki,” Aizawa growled. “Pay attention,” 

 

The boy looked sheepish and began unfreezing his classmate. 

 

“Kaminari, instead of the freezer you can help power the washing machines, we don’t need electricity for anything else do we?” Aizawa asked the teenagers.

 

“The tv?” came a Kirishima-sounding shout.

 

“No,” Aizawa sighed before beckoning the electric boy. He was too tired for this. He needed coffee. “Oh wait, you could power the kettle,”

 

Kaminari grinned at his teacher, cracking his knuckles. Aizawa looked at him worriedly.

 

“Forget the kettle,”

 

“Awh! But the washing machines yeah?”

 

“Yeah, come on then,”

 

“I’m coming too!” Aoyama cried excitedly.

 

“Yeah sure, whatever,” Aizawa replied. “Oh and the rest of you? Stay quiet. There are students asleep,”

 

Aizawa knew they weren’t going to stay quiet. 

 

“Who’s asleep?” Ashido cried. 

 

“Bakugou,”

 

Now they’d be quiet.

 

— 

 

Aizawa, Kaminari and Aoyama walked down the stairs to the basement and entered the washroom. Aizawa crouched down by the machines. 

 

“There’s twenty of them, do we need to power them all?” he asked. 

 

“Each machine has at least two students clothes in it so oui, I’d say so,” Aoyama replied. 

 

“I can do it Sensei!” Kaminari cried from the other side of him. 

 

“It’s a lot of power in a controlled space,” Aizawa warned. 

 

“It’s okay I can do it!” Kaminari smiled placing his hands on the generator. Aizawa gave him a nod. 

 

Upstairs, the class were still quietly arguing about mobile data hotspots when they heard a boom from downstairs. 

 

“I’m guessing that didn’t work then,” Ashido smiled weakly. 

 

“Hey, hey, hey Ashido!” Sero called from beside her. 

 

“What?”

 

“Static shock!” he cried, placing a hand on her shoulder and shocking the girl with his residual electricity. 

 

“Gah! Fucking hell Sero!” Ashido cried back, chasing him around the room with her own hands outstretched. Soon the rest of the class found out they could also give electric shocks thanks to Kaminari’s power outburst. 

 

“Stop chasing me Uraraka! You are at an unfair advantage in Shoji’s arms!” Iida cried, running past Mineta, still being held by Asui. 

 

“Don’t you dare,” she growled. 

 

No one really noticed when Aizawa and Aoyama walked back into the room, hair on end, twitching slightly. Aizawa was holding Kaminari by the collar so he didn’t wander off in his docile state. 

 

“Does anyone have a portable charger?” Aizawa grumbled. “Otherwise he’s stuck like this until the power comes on,”

 

No one did. 

 

Crap.

 

Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap.

 

—

 

“So who doesn’t have clothes tomorrow?” Aizawa asked to the room. Apart from those who were still asleep, the class was sat around the sofas, Asui having let go of Mineta and now had a hold of Kaminari who was constantly walking into walls. It was ten to ten.

 

A few hands went up including Aoyama, Ashido, Midoryia and Uraraka. 

 

“Can we have a pyjama party tomorrow?” Ashido suggested. 

 

“As long as it doesn’t look like pyjamas,” Aizawa replied tiredly. 

 

“Yes!”

 

“Uraraka and Ashido can have a look in my wardrobe if they want,” Yaoyorozu suggested. Both of the girls looked up excitedly. Not as excitedly as Aoyama however. 

 

“Can I?” he asked excitedly. 

 

“Sure,” Yaoyoruzu smiled at him. Aoyama beamed at her, sitting up straighter in excitement. 

 

“Sensei,” a voice came from beside the homeroom teacher. Aizawa turned to see Uraraka crouched in a ball beside him. She had her normal pyjama’s on and a jumper over the top however she was still shivering. “Do we think we could do something about the heating?”

 

“I’m really warm,” Midoriya commented from the other side of the sofa’s. 

 

“That’s because you’re sitting next to Todoroki,” Shoji explained. Todoroki looked up to his classmates and as he did it was clear to see that the teenager was using his quirk, one side of his face singeing slightly. 

 

“Sorry,” he muttered. 

 

“No, this is good,” Aizawa thought. The cold was getting a little unbearable and there was no sign of it stopping soon. “We could…”

 

“Make a fire!”

 

“No Kirishima,” 

 

“Wait we could do, with the right equipment,” Yaoyoruzu said. “I don’t know the exact mechanics for something like a portable stove though,”

 

“Will you need the exact mechanics?” Aoyama asked.

 

“Yes or it’ll be like the washing machines but worse,” Aizawa interrupted. 

 

Aoyama’s hands went immediately to his hair.

 

“It’s too dangerous,” Aizawa confirmed.

 

“Shame,” Midoryia sighed. “With a stove we’d have been able to make hot drinks.

 

Coffee…

 

“Look I’m going to go to the main building,” Aizawa sighed, getting up. “See how far they are with getting the power back on. I’ll bring a heater back if there’s one spare. Be good,” he warned. 

 

There was a mutter of ‘we will’s’ and ‘yes Sensei’ as Aizawa changed shoes and began the decent to the bottom floor. He would be gone ten minutes.

 

The building better be standing when he got back.

 

—

 

Inside of 1-A the class were still milling over the heater idea.

 

“There must be something we can do,” Kirishima complained.

 

“I just need the instructions or something but there’s no internet to look it up and I’m not sure if I can trust something from a webpage anyway-“ Yaoyoruzu started as Iida got up with a jolt.

 

“Wait!” Iida suddenly cried. “I have the perfect thing,” 

 

The boy ran out of the room and returned a moment later with a book on ‘how things worked’. 

 

“Why do you have this?” Mineta asked as Iida passed the book along to Yaoyoruzu. 

 

“It was my favourite childhood story!” Iida explained. 

 

“It’s not a story,” 

 

“But it tells the tale of our ever-growing evolution in mechanics and machinery. It is very inspiring,” 

 

“It’s perfect,” Yaoyoruzu said as she landed on the right page. “I can do it,” 

 

The room looked at her expectantly. 

 

“Just give me five minutes,” 

 

—

 

Five minutes later, the group encountered their next problem. 

 

“It needs fuel,” Todoroki confirmed. 

 

“I have failed you all,” Iida said solloumly. 

 

“Sorry guys,” Yaoyoruzu sighed. “It was a good idea in theory,”

 

“Yeah! We’ll be fine anyway!” Uraraka cried. She was shivering. 

 

“But we do have fuel,” Jiro offered. 

 

The class turned to look at her with hopeful eyes. 

 

“We have Bakugou,” she smiled. 

 

“His sweat!” Kirishima cried. “If Todoroki can make him hot enough then we can take his sweat and use it,”

 

“Oh yeah that amazing!” Sero beamed.

 

“We can’t do that,” Iida said responsibly. 

 

“But why?” Kirshima grinned, noticing his classmate getting tired. 

 

“I don’t know,” Iida sighed, fighting a loosing battle. “Because it’s dangerous? Because he’s dangerous?”

 

“Let’s do it!” Uraraka cried from beside them.

 

“Uraraka! You’re meant to be on my side!” Iida protested. 

 

“But I’m cold,” she replied, placing her hands under Iida’s pyjama top. The taller boy jumped back in shock from the cold. 

 

“Jeez,” he muttered. 

 

“Hey, Uraraka, come over here,” Todoroki called from the sofa, tapping his lap with one hand. Uraraka went over to where the boy was sitting and ended up on his lap like some sort of over decadent heat pad. “Better?” he asked. 

 

“Yes! Thank you Todoroki-kun,” Uraraka smiled. 

 

“So are we all in agreement?” Jiro asked the group. “Wake Bakugou up?”

 

"You mean sweat Bakugou up," Kirishima grinned wildly. 

 

"I think it would easier to wake him," Jiro replied.

 

There was a pause before a few nods started up. 

 

“Yeah let’s do it!” Sero and Kirishima cried, with way too much enthusiasm. 

 

“Yeah!” Uraraka confirmed. 

 

“But who do we send in?” Tokoyami asked pointedly. 

 

Jiro grinned wildly before pointing to the side of the room. 

 

“Him,”

 

The group turned to follow her hand, landing on the figure of Kaminari who was repeatedly walking into the window. 

 

“Oh crap I let go of him!” Asui cried. 

Notes:

NEXT TIME!!!

WILL BAKUGOU KILL HIS CLASSMATES?

WILL URARAKA EVER GET WARM WITHOUT OUR OTOKO NO AKACHAN TODOROKI?!

WILL KAMINARI FIND A PORTABLE CHARGER?

AND WILL AIZAWA GET ANY REST?!

FIND OUT SOON ;) XD

Chapter 6: Power Cut pt2

Notes:

Thank you all so much for subscribing to this fic y’all I just got 60 subs on this work and damn wow I’m honoured :D x

This chapter is a shit show. Think overtired writer writing about overtired kids XD but yeah forget intelligent storylines, intriguing dialogue it’s not happening in this chapter! Also there will be SPaG mistakes all over the shop.

OH AND I FORGOT MINETA EXISTED LOL WHAT A SHAME

- I have to thank Purplemalemute for the Asui prompt - what a shout

It should be a lot of fun ;) I hope no matter what you enjoy the story xx

“The power’s gone?” All Might asked the disheveled Aizawa as the younger teacher stood in the staff room doorway. Aizawa had arrived a few minutes ago, after not managing to find Nezu in his dorm. The Principal had been in his office, getting up straight away to go and resolve the issue once he’d been found. Aizawa was grateful that for once someone knew what they were doing. 

 

“Well clearly not everywhere,” he retorted, noting the bright lights, lit up computer screens and working vending machine in the corner. 

 

He made a beeline for caffeine.

 

“Most of the students are lacking uniform for tomorrow and there’s no heating,” Aizawa continued. “I got Todoroki to cover the fridge and freezer,”

 

“What about young Kaminari?” Yagi suggested. 

 

“He’s incapacitated,”

 

“Oh dear, is he ill?”

 

“Mentally,” Aizawa muttered before he could catch himself. “He overused his quirk,” he spoke aloud.

 

“Ah,” Yagi replied understandingly. 

 

“Why are you still here?” Aizawa asked, his back turned to the older man. 

 

“I had some emails to finish off and I was reading an interesting article about-“

 

“Do you have ten yen?” 

 

“Err, yes,” 

 

Yagi lent over his desk to hand Aizawa a coin, which the younger teacher placed in the vending machine. He drew out an iced coffee, downing half the bottle in one. 

 

“Thank you,” he replied as he placed the bottle down. Yagi was holding up a paper and smiling at his colleague.

 

“Let me enlighten you,” the former pro smiled, a glint in his eye. “Call it repayment for the yen. It’ll only take a moment,”

 

Aizawa sighed. He didn’t fancy owing All Might petty cash and he had to wait until Nezu got back anyway. He was sure his kids would be fine. 

 

They were idiots but they weren’t stupid.

 

—

 

The (awake) student body of class 1-A were stood around Bakugou’s room nervously. 

 

“Do we do it on a count of three?” Kirishima whispered into the silence.

 

“What exactly are we even doing on the count of three?” Jiro retorted. 

 

“I still think heating up his room and siphoning off his sweat is the best shout,” Sero said.

 

“Siphoning off his sweat?! Can you hear yourself?” Yaoyoruzu replied to the ridiculous suggestion. 

 

“We could take his dirty laundry and use it as kindling,” Hakugara suggested. “That should be sweaty enough!”

 

There were a multitude of groans and outbursts of disgust thrown around the corridor, followed by shh’s. 

 

“Alas it is in the wash,” Aoyama whispered. “And all of that is now, well…”

 

“Well what?!” Ashido prompted. “What’s happened to our clothes?” 

 

“I think there’s so much static electricity in them you may as well peel one item from another,” he replied simply. 

 

Jiro flicked the complacent Kaminari. 

 

“Can we send him in to get blasted already?” 

 

“I think if we just wake Kacchan up and explain the situation, he’d be more than happy to-“

 

Midoryia stopped halfway through his sentence as he noticed the rest of the class looking at him, one eye raised.

 

“Forget I said anything,” he finished quietly. 

 

“Let’s just decide,” Asui commented, shivering. “My tongue is getting dry,”

 

“Send him in, send him in,” Kirishima began to chant in a hushed voice. A few of the boys joined in including Ashido and Jiro. 

 

“And then what?” Yaoyoruzu hissed as Sero began to open the boy’s room. 

 

“Who cares!” Uraraka smiled at her, almost demonically. The rest of the class seemed to shrug, a lot of them getting out their cellphones and setting them to record. 

 

Yaoyoruzu gave up.

 

—

 

“And so when the English ethologist, eveolutionary biologist and author coined the word ‘meme’ in his 1976 book The Selfish Game-”

 

Aizawa looked up at the man who was once All Might and questioned his own morals. The man had been reading off an article for the last five minutes and what was worse was the coffee hadn’t kicked in yet.

 

“-it was used as a way of categorising the way cultural information spreads,”

 

“Hmmmm,” Aizawa mused, trying to sound as if he was at least listening. 

 

“Oh! Do you want to guess what this word could mean?”

 

“Go on,”

 

“Yeet,”

 

— 

 

Plan ‘wake Bakugou up’ was going just as smoothly. As soon as Asui had let go of Kaminari, the boy had propelled himself into the side of Bakugou’s wardrobe and was now repeatedly crashing against it. 

 

“He’s going to wake up!” Jiro hissed. 

 

“Nah! Bakugou can sleep through anything!” Sero replied. He wasn’t even bothering to whisper anymore. 

 

“Redirect him!” Ashido cried to Asui but the frog girl refused to move. 

 

It was Iida who eventually ran into the room himself and almost pushed Kaminari into Bakugou’s bed. Kaminiari himself ended up tripping over a loose wire on Bakugou’s floor in the transit and there was a brief moment you could have heard a pin drop, before the teen came crashing down onto Bakugou’s bed. 

 

Bakugou awoke with a scream, instinctively throwing his bed sheet over his ‘attacker’. 

 

“WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK- FUCK?!” he yelled, his quirk coming into action, blasting explosions from his palms. “WHO THE FUCK-?”

 

“he he he,” a monotone voice came from beneath the sheet. 

 

Bakugou poised himself before pulling off the cloth, ready to attack.

 

“EH? KAMINARI?! WHAT THE-?”

 

Jiro couldn’t hold it any longer and burst out laughing, giving away the classes cover. 

 

“WHAT ARE YOU FUCKERS PLAYING AT?!”

 

“Yes!” Sero cried. “Scare him to make him sweat! Who has a siphon?” 

 

“You fucking what?” Bakugou hissed.

 

“Hi, Kacchan,” Midoryia stuttered, coming forward. Bakugou turned on his childhood friend instead, teeth bared. 

 

“Don’t you ‘hi Kacchan’ me,” he snapped. “This isn’t a board meeting, we’re in the same class,”

 

“Thank you?” Midoryia replied. 

 

“Fuck off,” came the compliment back. “God, can someone get him restrained?” 

 

“Bakugou! You can’t just restrain someone you find annoying!” Iida yelled. 

 

“I wasn’t talking about damn Deku I was talking about him,” Bakugou replied pointing to Kaminari who was now bashing his legs against Bakugou’s desk.

 

“Kaminari!” Jiro called in dismay. 

 

“Hey Asui can you-?” Hagakura started but never got to finish as she turned to her classmate. 

 

Asui was standing just outside Bakugou’s door, her eyes half shut, wavering slightly. 

 

“Ribbit…” she tried before her legs buckles. 

 

Shoji managed to grab her just before she hit the ground.

 

—

 

“You idiots,” Bakugou commented as the class bundled into the living room with blankets. Shoji had lifted Asui to the sofa’s as soon as she’d fainted and now the class were trying to warm her up. Todoroki was using his left side as a radiator beside her and everyone else were piling duvets up on top of her. “You know you couldn’t have actually used my fucking sweat as fuel anyway,”

 

“Why?” Sero asked. 

 

“Because nitroglycerin is a damn explosive you idiot. If you’d used that it would have blown up the whole room,” 

 

“Just like the washing machines...” Aoyama commented, earning a hit from Ashido beside him. 

 

“I was there during the Provisional Licensing exam, I should have realised sooner,” Yaoyoruzu spoke up from the sofa’s. She was using her quirk to make candles in a futile attempt to raise the temperate of the room. 

 

“Me too,” Jiro added grimly from across the room. “She should be fine though, as long as we keep her warm. She’ll wake up soon,” 

 

“Her room has some kind of humidifier thing in it?” Ojiro said as he came into the common area carrying an empty hot water bottle. “It’s not working because of the power cut though. Todoroki if I fill a bowl with water do you think you could use your quirk to heat it? Then we could use hot water bottles as well,”

 

Todoroki nodded, still concentrating hard on monitoring his quirk. Ojiro headed to the kitchen. 

 

“Good thinking Ojiro!” Kirishima smiled, worried for his classmate. Asui looked peaceful enough but her breathing had shallowed so much that there was a moment the class thought she might have died. It took Koda waking up and coming to see what all the screaming was to assure the group that she was fine. “Did anyone contact Aizawa?” 

 

“His phone,” Aoyama said, holding up a cellphone from the kitchen counter. “He didn’t take it,” 

 

“I’ll go and find him!” Iida cried, standing from where he was perched on the sofa Asui laid on. “It is my duty as class rep!”  

 

“Where did he go in the end?” Uraraka asked. 

 

“I’m not sure but I’d hazard a guess at the Principals dorms or office. I’ll try the main building first,” Iida replied, pushing his glasses up his face. 

 

“Take my phone,” Hakagura offered, handing it to the taller boy. “It has a flashlight, you’ll need it if the powers off in the rest of UA and you can call us if you need backup!” 

 

“Thank you Hakagura I shall take good care of it,” Iida replied as the second most sensible person headed out of the room. 

 

“Is everyone awake now?” Midoryia asked, peering round. Bakugou’s screaming and the fast decreasing temperature of the dorm had been the last straw for the few students who’d managed to sleep through. Everyone was now littered about the common room, bundled up in blankets or coming in and out with extra duvets and pillows for Asui.

 

“I wish there was more I could do,” Yaoyoruzu complained as she generated another candle with her quirk. “This feels stupid,”

 

“If you had a mini bbq we could light that and make a proper fire!” Uraraka suggested. 

 

“With what though?” Bakugou snapped.

 

“Something that can be used as kindling? I don’t know,” Ojiro replied, bringing a bowl of water beside Todoroki, the boy switching from heating up his surroundings to heating up the water. 

 

“Oh I know!” Uraraka cried. “Deku has loads of old boxes under his bed!”

 

“Errr how did you know that?” Midoryia asked sheepishly. 

 

“You always keep the boxes from the All Might merch you get!”

 

“Well it might be worth something one day…” 

 

“We could always use our clothes, I’m sure if you set a match alight near them they’d poof! Straight into flames,”

 

Aoyama earnt another slap from Ashido. 

 

“Stop talking about our clothes like that!” Ashido moaned. 

 

‘What happened to our clothes?’ Kida signed.

 

“You wanna warm her up slowly anyway you idiots,” Bakugou interrupted. 

 

‘He’s right,’ Koda signed, ceasing the argument. 

 

“How did you know that?” Kaminari asked his best friend.

 

“Frogs don’t like sudden changes of temperature, obviously. Or she wouldn’t have crashed out in the first place,” Bakugou replied, yawning.  

 

“What is the temperature?” Jiro piped up.

 

“I don’t know but I do know that if you breath out hard enough then you can see your breath,” Ashido smiled, demonstrating with a puff. 

 

It was cold.

 

“Shit,” Todoroki suddenly said, looking around. “Where’s Kaminari?”

 

There was a moment of panic as the class whipped their heads round the room before;

 

“It’s okay!” Jiro called. “I trapped him,”

 

“The class looked over to see Kaminari stood in the middle of four chairs Jiro had placed back to back in order to stunt his movements. The teen was no longer walking around aimlessly however, just pulsing his arms back and forward, thumbs up.

 

“I think he’s recharging,” she commented. 

 

“Thank God,” Bakugou snarled. “He’s going to be in for it when he comes round,”

 

“Yaoyoruzu?” Uraraka asked, standing up and coming to sit beside her friend.

 

“Mmm?” Yayoruzu replied, concentrating hard on her quirk.

 

“I know you said earlier that we could borrow some of your clothes. Do you mind if I have a look for a jumper or something?” 

 

Yaoyoruzu looked across at her friend who was shivering underneath the layers she already had on. Uraraka’s clothes were nice but they were cheaply made and thin because of it. Yaoyoruzu knew that her own jumpers would be much warmer. 

 

“Sure,” she smiled back. 

 

“Thank you!” and with that she jumped up. 

 

“Yaoyoruzu can I have a look as well?” Jiro asked shyly.

 

“Of course, you all can,” she replied. A handful of ‘thank you’s’ came back and she blushed, letting her hair float forwards to cover her face. 

 

It didn’t take long before the group came back with an armful of clothes. 

 

“Sorry if we went overboard a little,” Uraraka cried as she placed them onto an empty chair. “We’ll put them all back!”

 

Aoyama gasped as he held up a grey wollen polo neck, placing it against him. 

 

“Real cashmere oui?” he asked. “It’s so chic!”

 

“Oh I forgot I even had that,” Yaoyoruzu admitted. 

 

Uraraka was wrapping a blue scarf around her neck and Jiro pulling a ‘Death Band’ hoodie over her head.

 

“I didn’t know you liked this kinda stuff,” she admitted. 

 

“I had a goth phase,” Yaoyoruzu replied.

 

“Didn’t we all,” Midoryia commented.

 

The majority of the class turned to stare at him.

 

“Guys, guys,” Todoroki broke the silence, a hot water bottle in hand. “She’s waking up,”

 

The clothes were abandoned as the class rushed over to the sofa where Asui was turning softly. There was a moment and then her eyes slid open, a yawn escaping her mouth.

 

“Ribbit..?” she said quietly as she came to. 

 

“Asui!” Ojiro cried. “You’re okay!”

 

“We were worried!” Kaminari admitted with a beam.

 

“How are you feeling?” Hakugura asked as Yaoyoruzu pulled a stray bit of hair from her face. 

 

“Mmm… tired,” she muttered slowly. 

 

‘We should try and keep her awake now,’ Koda recommended.

 

“How?” Midoryia asked.

 

“I’ve got it!” Aoyama smiled, holding up a green beret from the chair. 

 

— 

 

Yagi was trying to get Aizawa to watch ‘vines’. 

 

“No. They’re all in English and besides if it’s not a cat video or a hair tutorial I’m not interested,” 

 

There was a stare. 

 

“Forget I said that,” the pro muttered. 

 

“Just one video. I know a good one,”

 

“No, I-“

 

“Just come here,”

 

“Gettoff,”

 

“You won’t regret it,” 

 

“Yagi I swear to-“

 

“Ow!”

 

Luckily the two were interrupted by Iida crashing through the door. 

 

“Iida…” Aizawa said as the boy stopped in the doorway. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei it’s Asui she’s gone into hibernation,” the teenager breathed, out of breath from the cold. He stopped, cocking his head to one side at the sight of his teachers. All Might was in the process of dragging Aizawa down to see his monitor with the use of his scarf, the latter protesting by pressing a hand to Yagi’s face. “Are you okay?” he asked unsurely. 

 

Aizawa stood up straight, grabbing his-

 

“My phone…” he muttered.

 

“You left it behind,” Iida said.

 

Crap.

 

“Ok, lets go,” he said quickly, worried for his student. Yagi stood up beside him. 

 

“I’ll come as well,” he offered. “I’m sorry for keeping your teacher from you,” he apologised. 

 

“It isn’t an issue!” Iida cried back. “The rest of the class have got it covered!”

 

Aizawa nodded grimly. He was angry at himself for not thinking about the heating sooner. If anything happened to Asui... 

 

Nezu had better work out the power shortage quickly.

 

—

 

“WERK IT URARAKA-CHAN!”

 

Class 1-A were having far more fun than their teachers. Aoyama had decided that the best way to keep Asui awake and everyone warm would be to have a fashion show with Yaoyoruzu’s spare clothes. 

 

Uraraka was currently wearing a beanie as a shoe, a cardigan wrapped around her waist and three jumpers, strutting down the corridor in front of her classmates. 

 

The rest of 1-A were sitting around cheering, Asui was sat up, supported by Kirishima behind her. Bakugou had tried to leave as soon as the ‘fashion show’ had started but Kirishima had grabbed his wrist to stop him. Bakugou had stood seething ever since. Kirishima hadn’t let go of his wrist and Bakugou hadn’t asked him to. 

 

“KODA’S GO!” Aoyama cried, the latter protesting wildly with his arms. The blond haired boy still managed to shove him in an oversized coat however. “We’ll do it together,” he winked at his classmate, grabbing his hand. Koda smiled nervously back at him. 

 

The cheers from the class were second to none though.

 

“How are you feeling Asui?” Yaoyoruzu asked her friend. 

 

“Hmm, cold, ribbit,” Asui replied hugging the covers to her. 

 

“Do you think it’d be safe to make that bbq fire now?” Kirishima asked Yaoyoruzu. 

 

“I need food first,” she replied, looking up at the boy. “I’ve been using my all evening. But after, of course if Koda thinks that’s okay,”

 

Koda nodded enthusiastically, happy the attention was way from his catwalk.

 

“I’ll go grab something to eat,” Yaoyoruzu started when she felt a hand on her shoulder. 

 

“I’ll get it,” Todoroki said getting up shakily. “I need a break anyway, sorry Asui,”

 

Both teenagers had been overusing their quirks.

 

“Okay we need kindling!” Kirishima cried, lifting his arms and letting go of Bakugou in the process. The explosive teen was startled by the sudden movement but crossed his arms and looked away, pouting.

 

“Deku! You got the boxes?” Uraraka asked as she peeled off a jumper.

 

“Yeah of course,” he smiled, darting off. 

 

“JIRO’S GO!”

 

“You legend Midoryia!” Kirishima shouted after him. 

 

“They’re only boxes,” Bakugou muttered. 

 

“Awn come on Bakugou, they mean something to him and we’re all worried about Asui,” Kirishima paused before breaking into a smile. “Just because you’re jelous,” 

 

“You what-?” Bakugou started.

 

Kirishima felt a pillow to the back of his head.

 

“Fuck off,”

 

“Okay I think I can do it!” Yaoyoruzu said, her mouth full with the toast her and Todoroki were sharing. 

 

The class turned from where they were watching Jiro to watch Yaoyoruzu as she concentrated on producing the latest object.

 

Midoryia came back in the room as she was finishing up.

 

“You took your time,” Bakugou commented. 

 

“Oh sorry, I was trying to find the more common models…” he admitted.

 

“Ribbit. I appreciate this,” Asui smiled from Kirishima’s lap.

 

“It’s no problem, sorry it’s so small,” Yaoyoruzu breathed as she leant against the sofa, worn out. In front of her was a small red, bucket BBQ.

 

“Right! I’ll fill it up,” Midoryia offered as both him and Ojiro loaded the All Might merch into the bucket. 

 

“Ready?” Todoroki asked as he inched forward, readying his quirk. 

 

“Yep,” Ojiro replied, sitting back. 

 

—

 

Aizawa, Iida and Yagi exited the lift swiftly as they got up to the dorm, Aizawa crossing the two, bursting into the common area. It was too quiet. 

 

As the two teachers entered the room they looked around at the sight before them. Kaminari was tucked around four chairs, eyes wondering, Aoyama, Jiro, Uraraka and Koda were covered in someone’s clothes? There were candles everywhere and Midoryia, Yaoyorozu and Todoroki were making a BBQ? Asui was sitting up, exhausted but awake. Aizawa sighed in relief at that. The rest? Made his head hurt. 

 

Even Iida looked confused as he watched on. 

 

None of the student had noticed the trio yet, they were all watching Todoroki. The teen was creating a small flame in his palm, lowering it into the BBQ. There was a flicker as the flame tried to catch onto the boxes. 

 

“Come on,” Midoryia breathed. “Burn, All Might burn, burn,” 

 

“Young Midoryia?” 

 

Midoryia paled. 

 

The boxes caught alight. 

 

“A-All Might?” 

 

The tv suddenly came back into life, the fridge beeping and the heating whirring on. 

 

The power was back on. 

Chapter 7: The Waiter

Summary:

“What would you like to order?” a low voice muttered.

Aizawa looked up, confused. He recognised that voice.

And there, in full waiter’s uniform, looking red with embarrassment, was Shinsou.

OR

Shinsou works in a cafe at weekends after UA. It's Present Mic's birthday meal.

It couldn't go too badly could it..?

Notes:

*crawls out of the grave* Hi my beautiful readers sorry it’s been a little while. Your comments make my heart swell so thank you so much for all you continued support xx

I just wanted to quickly add in that posts will be sparse for the next couple of weeks. Basically I work as an actress and I’m in a play right now which opens London in three weeks so I’m up to my eyeballs in rehearsals haha - I will still be posting but it may go down to once a week whilst work goes mad (it’s my professional debut ahh)

Anyway I’ve talked about myself wayyyy too much - I hope enjoy the chapter!! X

Aizawa took a seat at an empty table in the restaurant and relaxed into the chair. He was the first to arrive. 

 

Good. 

 

Mic’s birthday had passed on the Tuesday and now a load of the UA staff members were going out for a celebratory meal. 

 

Staff members. Eh, he should probably refer to them as friends.

 

He was halfway though peering down the incredibly posh looking menu when a waiter came up in front of him, shuffling from foot to foot. 

 

“What would you like to order?” a low voice muttered.

 

Aizawa looked up, confused. He recognised that voice. 

 

And there, in full waiter’s uniform, looking red with embarrassment, was Shinsou. There was a moment the two stared at each other before Aizawa looked back down at the menu again. 

 

“You shouldn’t be working here,” he said softly as he scrolled through the coffee selection. “UA has rules on this sort of thing. It’s too dangerous,”

 

“Sorry, Sensei” came the almost annoyed reply. 

 

“I’ll take a black coffee,” Aizawa finally looked up. “And you can’t call me Sensei here,”

 

“Nothing more, sir?” Shinsou replied, clearly uncomfortable with the new honorific. 

 

“No I’ll wait until the others turn up,” 

 

“Others?”

 

Now Shinsou really had paled. 

 

“Well this wouldn’t be Mic’s birthday meal without the rest of the faculty members now would it,” Aizawa smiled sweetly up at the boy. “When do you finish?”

 

“Close,” came the small voice. 

 

“Good luck,” Aizawa smirked before noticing how Shinsou was really shaking at this point. He sighed. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you don’t get into any trouble,” he assured his student. 

 

“I’m sorry Sensei- Sir,” Shinsou replied starting to turn before stopping. “I just... need it for my family. The money that is,” The boy turned back, facing Aizawa, swapping his notebook from one hand to the other. “I get the rule about not working for the hero course, because it’s dangerous to be in the public eye, but I’m not in the hero course,” 

 

“But you were in the final rounds of the sports festival and you will be in the hero course one day,” Aizawa explained patiently watching the boys mouth curl up into a small smile he immediately tried to hide. “If your family are having financial trouble you can talk to anyone at UA okay? But this? You need to be more smart kid, this is Tokyo,” 

 

“Yes Sir,” Shinsou replied bashfully. 

 

“Table three want you,” Aizawa pointed before the conversation could could anymore soppy. “Black coffee,” he reminded. 

 

“On it,” Shinsou scribbled down before moving to the table along. As he took the order of the couple on table three he noticed the slight shake in his hand and looked back at his teacher nervously. He was grateful for Aizawa, more so than any adult he’d ever met. He wouldn’t mind quitting the waitressing job as it was, it was only six thirty in the evening but after a week of school and then more training with Aizawa? He was shattered. As he took the order and made his way to the back, he noticed the door open and heard a familiar voice blaring through. 

 

“SHOTAAAA YOU’RE HEREEEE!” Present Mic called as he made a beeline for the table. 

 

“Of course,” Aizawa replied in his usual monotone. “You’re my best friend,” 

 

“AWWWW see! I told you Nemuri, we didn’t have to wait outside-“

 

“You waited outside?”

 

Shinsou didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as he finished inputting the order into the machine and started grinding coffee beans, the coffee machine drowning his teachers conversation out. He took a long breath. 

 

This couldn’t go too badly could it? 

 

—

 

Twenty minutes and two rounds of drink orders later, Shinsou was carrying a precarious tray of sake back to the table. It was clear Aizawa had already warned them of his job because apart from Snipe giving him a small, wide-eyed look, his teachers had acted as if everything was normal meaning Shinsou could relax. 

 

It was almost fun to see them outside of UA. 

 

“Hey Shinsou! Just leave the drinks in the middle,” Mic cried as he approached them. “We all ordered the same thing right?”

 

“No I ordered coffee,” Aizawa corrected, taking the only coffee cup off of the tray,”

 

“You’re not drinking?” Mic asked in surprise. “I’m offended!”

 

“No, I’m not,” Aizawa replied, taking a sip of the black liquid. “Why does that offend you?”

 

“Err, you food will be with you shortly,” Shinsou said quietly, not wanting to interrupt his teachers conversations.

 

As he collected Aizawa’s last coffee cup he turned back and realised his manger was following him. His manager, Ito, was a kind guy but it was apparent when he put business first. Today, was one of those days.

 

“Do you realise who those people are?” he hissed as Shinsou typed out a bill for table eight.

 

“I think so,” he lied. He knew he wasn’t meant to work whilst attending UA so he’d never said he went to hero school, instead lying on his form that he went to the high school in the next prefecture. It meant that he didn’t have to tell anyone that he went to a hero school but wasn’t on the hero course as well. That was the worst thing about attending UA.

 

“They’re all pro hero’s,” Ito replied. “Big business yeah? So you going over there and not even communicating with them? Not bothering to hand out their drinks?”

 

“They told me to leave them-“ Shinsou started to protest.

 

“It doesn’t look good, yeah?” Ito interrupted. “You need to work harder Shinsou or I’ll give the table to someone else and you can forget doing overtime over the holidays. Okay?”

 

“Yes Senpai,” Shinsou replied, taking the card machine away to table eight.

 

—

 

Two hours later and it was becoming apparent to Shinsou that not only was he going to see his teachers outside of class, he was going to see them drunk. 

 

“Sing it to me! Sing in English!” Mic cried, dragging his hands so they landed on Aizawa’s shoulders, looking up at the man who was rolling his eyes.

 

It was about nine in the evening and the place was starting to file out. Around the teachers table, plates and bowls were scattered, broken up only by the wrapping paper from Present Mic’s many birthday gifts. The Pro was wearing new headphones over his old ones, getting everyone to try on his new pairs of glasses and had wrapped a scarf around Aizawa’s neck. 

 

“I don’t know how Happy Birthday goes in English,” Aizawa replied, trying to drag the man off of him but getting tangled up in said scarf as he did. 

 

Shinsou picked a few empty plates up and was about to walk away from the table once more when he caught Ito giving him a rather pointed look from the other side of the room.

 

Shinsou sighed and turned back.

 

“I know how it goes,” he offered shyly. 

 

And the entire teaching faculty of UA turned to stare at him.

 

“You do?!” All Might boomed from the other end of the table, his voice surprisingly loud still, considering the stature of the man. “Well you must start us off young Shinsou! Here, stand on my seat,” he cried as he began to get up.

 

“Oh I don’t think that’s really-“

 

“Oh go on!” Midnight cooed from beside him. “It’ll be so cute! And don’t worry, we’ll all join in! Won’t we?”

 

“Leave the boy alone,” Aizawa said, placing his arm between his student and the hero.

 

“No, please Shinsou, go ahead,” Snipe laughed gruffly. Shinsou looked over and gave his homeroom teacher a grimace. He’d better not bring this up in class. 

 

“Well I can, I’m not allowed to stand on the chair, thank you though…” he paused, knowing that All Might wouldn’t want him to announce his presence.

 

“Call me Yagi,” he smiled with a wink. Shinsou bowed his head in reply.

 

“Sing to meeeeeeee,” Mic called gleefully. 

 

“If you wanted to sing why didn’t we just go to a karaoke?” Aizawa muttered.

 

But Shinsou placed his notepad back in his apron pocket, coughing gently before beginning to sing what little of ‘Happy Birthday’ he really knew.

 

“Happy Birthday to you… Happy Birthday to you… Happy Birthday dear-“

 

“HIZASHI!” the table cried as they all joined into the foreign song. Shinsou was happy to quieten after this, letting his teachers sing them out. Present Mic looked as if he was about to cry, swaying from side to side with the music, his glass in the air and very purposely bumping into Aizawa’s shoulder as he did. 

 

Aizawa gave Shinsou a look as if he wanted the ground to eat him up and Shinsou smirked in reply. At least it looked like they’d leave soon. 

 

They didn’t. 

 

—

 

Another hour later and the whole restaurant was empty apart from the teachers.

 

Ito was loving it. He kept on reminding what few staff there was left, getting them to buy as many drinks as possible until close. 

 

Shinsou didn’t think they needed anymore drinks.

 

“HEY HEY EVERYBODYYYYY!” Mic cried, so loudly that Shinsou could hear it from where he was washing up. “LET’S TAKE A PICTURE, YEAHHHHH!”

 

“Go,” Ito commanded, coming up beside Shinsou. 

 

“Senpai?” Shinsou asked.

 

“I don’t know why, but they seem to like you kid. So go out there and help take their picture or something,” he prompted in reply. “Try and suggests they get some more sake to ‘cheers’ with as well,”

 

Shinsou rolled his eyes as he wiped his hands on the towel. Ito didn’t see luckily and the teenager made his way out to the front. The group had stood up and was drunkenly making a crowd just past the table.

 

“Did you want me to-?” he started.

 

“SHINSOU!!! GET IN THIS PHOTOOOOO!!!” Mic called when he saw the boy. 

 

“Oh I was just going to offer to, woah-“

 

Midnight had dragged him into the group, holding him far too close for comfort. Shinsou tried to move away but her grip was too strong. He was stuck. In the middle of his drunk teachers. 

 

“Who’s going to take the photo now?” Power Loader jeered somewhere near the back. Shinsou couldn’t see, Midnight’s boob was in the way. 

 

“Hey, why can’t you-“ Aizawa began to argue back. Shinsou lost the rest, being pulled towards Midnight and Mic instead.

 

“Hey Shinsou, what’s Aizawa like as a teacher?” Midnight asked in a stage whisper. “Have you ever seen him smile?”

 

“Well no-“ Shinsou started to reply. 

 

“DOOOO YOUUUU KNOW HIS TICKLISH SPOTS THOUGH?” Mic screamed, causing Shinsou to cover his ears. The teen shook his head. 

 

Mic turned to where AIzawa was still arguing with Power Loader and grabbed him by his now exposed neck. 

 

“What the FUCK?” Aizawa screamed before collapsing into himself, producing noises that sounded less like a laugh and more like a cat being strangled and then cut into pieces. 

 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-“

 

“HIZASHI!” 

 

“Take notes,” Snipe laughed, slapping Shinsou on the back so hard that for once he was grateful that he was tucked underneath Midnight’s arm.

 

“Could we use this?” All Might piped up. “I brought it because I saw it on TV,”

 

He was holding up a selfie stick. 

 

“YEAHHHHHHHHHH,” Mic yelled, letting go of Aizawa, who nearly fell on the floor. 

 

“Hizashi your quirk,” he laughed bitterly. “You’re an arsehole,”

 

“And that’s why you love me,” Mic replied, skipping back to Aizawa and grabbing his face, kissing him.

 

Shinsou’s mouth dropped wide open.

 

“This is typical for them,” Midnight explained, laughing at the students face.

 

“Do. Not. Tell. A. Soul. What you just saw,” Aizawa hissed in Shinsou’s direction, reminding the teen that he at least was still very much not drunk.

 

“Yes Sensei,” Shinsou nodded with a smirk. 

 

“You should see them when they’re both drunk,” Midnight continued to whisper. 

 

“Everybody get in!” All Might, or should Shinsou refer him as Yagi now?, called from the front of the group. “Now how do you work this thing, he muttered, taking about fifteen selfies as he did.

 

“Who wants to move to a BARRRR!” Mic jeered as the rest of the teachers cried in agreement. 

 

“Do you remember what happened the last time we went to a bar?” Ectoplasm cried causing the group to explode into fits of giggles. 

 

“Yes! Let’s do that again!” Power Loader called. 

 

“Clothes swap, clothes swap, clothes swap!” Mic began to chant.

 

“I have the pictures from last year,” Midnight grinned. “Do you want to see?”

 

Shinsou was half tempted to say yes when Aizawa came between the pair.

 

“Could we have the bill please?” he asked pointedly.

 

“Oh, yes of corse, sorry Sensei- I mean Sir,” Shinsou stuttered. “The meal was pre-paid right? So it’s just the six rounds of sake and the seven black coffees you need to pay for,”

 

“That’s fine,” Aizawa replied, relieving the boy from Midnights grasp. Shinsou hurried off to the back and plugged the order into the machine. Ito came up beside him with a tea towel. 

 

“¥55200?!” he beamed over Shinsou’s shoulder. “And just on drinks as well! Let me finish up this order. There’s a lot of washing up to do,”

 

Brilliant.

 

— 

 

It was another half an hour before Shinsou finished up. He sighed as he finally hung his apron up and grabbed his shoes out of the locker. He yawned as he locked up the back and wondered around the front to make sure the coffee machines were off when Ito stopped him, his hand out. 

 

“Senpai?” he asked curiously, placing the keys in his managers hand. 

 

“Go home Shinsou, there’s a man out front, your dad? He says he’s here to pick you up,” 

 

“T-Thank you Senpai,” Shinsou stuttered, confused as he made he way through the tables. His parents lived too far away to be picking him up, it was the weekend now so he’d just planned on getting the train home... so who-? 

 

Aizawa was stood, a silhouette in the darkened restaurant. He turned as he spotted his student. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei?” Shinsou asked. “What are you..?”

 

“Come on kid,” Aizawa replied, beckoning him over with his hand. Shinsou fell into pace beside him as the two left the building, Shinsou sticking close to Aizawa’s side. “I’m taking you home,” 

 

“I live a while away Sensei, you don’t have to...” Shinsou explained as they walked in the direction of the station. 

 

“Why do you think I stuck to coffee?” the pro asked nonchalantly. 

 

Shinsou looked down so his teacher couldn’t see his eyes water as the two entered the dimly lit station together. 

 

One day he was going to be someone’s hero as well. Just like Aizawa. 

 

“So Sensei-“

 

“Talk about this evening again and you’re dead,”

 

“Yes Sensei,”

Chapter 8: Mario Kart

Summary:

The Bakusquad play Mario Kart - need I say more?

Notes:

Hey my beautiful readers - thank you for your patience waiting for this chapter - I hope it’s worth the damn wait! Play rehearsals are going well - we open on the 3rd ahhhh so this week has been mad!

So I wrote this chapter a bit differently - I did all the speech first and then added the context so it’s quite conversational but I hope you enjoy! I’m also on holiday for the next couple of days as it’s my 20th so I can reply to all your beautiful comments at last! Thank you for reading! Xx

“Does Aizawa sleep?” Ashido asked absentmindedly. The ‘Bakusquad’ of Kaminari, Sero, Ashido and Bakugou were sat around the tv playing Mario Kart of Kaminari’s Nintendo Switch. 

 

“You fucking kidding me?” “Of course he sleeps. Literally in every homeroom,” Sero retorted as he took a sharp right, passing Bakugou in the process. 

 

“Fuck you!”

 

“That’s not sleeping though, those are naps,” Ashido replied, rolling her eyes. “I mean does he like full on sleep?” 

 

“Yeah... He must do,”

 

“But when?”

 

“I don’t know on his day off?”

 

“Holidays?”Kaminari piped up, not tearing his eyes from the screen. 

 

“Do pro hero’s get holidays?” Sero asked. 

 

“From patrol duty yeah, not from being on call,” 

 

“But pro hero’s are always on call,” Ashido pointed out. 

 

“Holy shit,”

 

“You can still sleep and be on call,” Bakugou hissed from the corner of the sofa, his controller one wrong move away from being thrown across the room. 

 

“I guess,”

 

“Nah I sleep through my phone going off,” Sero grinned. 

 

“What are you going to do when you’re on call then? Stay up?” Bakugou replied. 

 

“Probably?..”

 

“But what if you’re on call for like a week,”

 

“Dude you’d die,” Ashido giggled 

 

“Other people would die more like,” Kaminari commented as he threw a banana. 

 

“Nah I’d do something about it,” Sero said, relaxing back into the cushions as he cruised passed Bakugou. 

 

“Fuck OFF!” 

 

“Like what?” Ashido asked, ignoring the screams of her best friend beside her. 

 

“Dunno I’ll get a coffee drip in my arm,”

 

“A coffee drip?!”

 

“No wait! I’ll get Kaminari to shock me awake,” 

 

“Mmmm... Nah,” Kaminari replied, wiping his controller off with his t-shirt, passing the finish line. There was a general hush as Aizawa entered the common area, flicking on the kettle and settling himself beside Iida and Todoroki who were working on the kitchen table. 

 

“You get so into this game,” Ashido commented, passing the finishing line herself. 

 

“Pays off though,” Kaminari smirked. 

 

“Ugh maybe it’s my character,” Ashido sighed. “Yoshi is useless,”

 

“Why d’ya choose him them?”

 

“Because he’s cute,”

 

“Hey Kirishima!” Sero called as the red-haired boy entered the room. 

 

“Do you want to play?” Kirishima offered. 

 

“It’s okay, me and Bakugou are going to train,” Kaminari replied, flexing his hands and wondering behind Bakugou. 

 

“Really? Awh sick,” 

 

“Yeah, after this cup is over,” Bakugou said, batting Kirishima‘s hand away so he could concentrate. 

 

“Yeah!” Kirishima replied to Kaminari, igniting Bakugou’s protests. “I’m going to lie on the ground and activate my full hardening and Bakugou’s going to drop bricks on me,”

 

“Kirishima NO!” Aizawa suddenly called as he threw a stray coffee filter in the bin. 

 

“But-“

 

“No,”

 

“What if I-“

 

“No,”

 

“Sensei! Why not?!”

 

“Aizawa-Sensei when do you sleep?” Ashido cut in, turning around and leaning with her knees up on the sofa to see her teacher. 

 

“Why do you want to know that?” Aizawa asked. There was a pause, a sigh. “When I can, where I can,”

 

“Do you ever nap on call?”

 

“Never,”

 

“But you nap in class,” Sero pointed out. 

 

“Because you don’t need a homeroom teacher. No true hero does,” Aizawa replied tiredly. “You need a mentor and someone to tell you when you’re being stupid but that’s it. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you know when you’re being stupid. Kirishima,”

 

“What!” 

 

And with that, he left the room, a coffee in hand. 

 

“Was that, in a really backhanded way, a... compliment?” Ashido asked with a giggle. 

 

“Well, you have seen his expulsion rate right?” Kaminari replied. 

 

“But he is a homeroom teacher. That’s... that’s his job,” Iida suddenly piped up from the table. 

 

“He’s a crap homeroom teacher though,”

 

“Sero!”

 

“No hear me out!” Sero protested. 

 

“Choose a map first idiot,” Bakugou snapped. “Not rainbow road,” he added as an afterthought. 

 

“Fine. Moo Moo Meadows,”

 

“Basic,” Ashido smirked. 

 

“Shut up! Let me tell you my point! Right so, he keeps any explanations to a minimum before letting us ‘figure it out’, he never gets involved with school stuff like the class rep and the cultural festival and if we fail something important the only punishment he ever gives is like the threat of expulsion,”

 

“No but he’s always there if we have a problem or need extra training, he’ll do more for us than any other homeroom teacher I’ve ever met,” Ashido pointed out. 

 

“Fucking hell Ashido, now you’re  missing my point!”

 

“Ha you just got hit by a cow!” she laughed in response as Sero leaned over to try and hit her with a cushion. “Oi! Fuck off! Fine finish your point!” 

 

“He does everything but his actual role as homeroom teacher,” Sero continued, leaning back into his seat. “So like he puts all the effort into making sure we’re mentally okay and shit but that’s not his job description. Like grades and shit. I’ve been scraping,”

 

“But you’ve had to do extra work,” Kirishima piped up. 

 

“Aha but that’s a school requirement, not an Aizawa requirement,” 

 

“Exactly! He doesn’t care as long as you’ve got the important stuff down,” Ashido smiled. 

 

“Ashido you weren’t even on my side a second ago,”

 

“Nah I just like winding you up,” 

 

“What’s this got to do with his sleeping again?” 

 

“I don’t know,”

 

“Wouldn’t it be cool to do an internship with Aizawa though?” Kaminari asked aloud. 

 

“It’d be hell,” 

 

“I like my complexion too much,” 

 

“Yeah you look bad enough without bags under your eyes Sero,” Kirishima smirked. 

 

“Keep your eyes on the road!” 

 

“I’m finished,”

 

“You git,” Bakugou suddenly cried. “How?!”

 

“Iida, don’t you find it weird that your teachers are nearly the same age as your brother?” Ashido called across to the two boys. 

 

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Iida replied. 

 

“I find it weird,” Todoroki suddenly spoke up, putting his book down a little. 

 

“Oh yeah, how old’s your sister Todoroki?”

 

“Only twenty-two. So still nine years younger than Aizawa,”

 

“But she’s like your mum right?” Ashido asked. 

 

“I mean I guess...” 

 

“Okay, that must feel less weird,”

 

“You can’t say that shit!” Sero hissed at her. 

 

“I’m getting to know my classmates!” 

 

“It’s nearly been a year,” 

 

“I’d rather people ask me straight then just pretend nothing happened,” Todoroki shrugged. 

 

“There you go!”

 

“But I’d also rather people didn’t ask,” he finished, before looking down at his book. 

 

Ashido paled a little as Kaminari mouthed ‘You fucked up’ at her with a grin. 

 

“When does Mic sleep?” Kaminari asked, changing the conversation. 

 

“When he’s not on call. And teaching. And doing his radio show,”

 

“Oh and running the English department,” Ashido piped up again. 

 

“How did that happen? Did he get a teaching degree as well?” Sero asked. 

 

“Nah he just went to England for a month,” Bakugou smirked. 

 

“Really?”

 

“No, fucking hell I don’t know!”

 

“That would be sick,” Ashido cried. 

 

“It would be unprofessional,” Ida’s voice called from the table. 

 

“Stop listening to our conversation four eyes,”

 

“You’re loud and this table is only a meter away. It’s impossible not to listen,” Iida replied to the explosive teen. “You also suck at games,”

 

“Fuck off. It was that map,” Bakugou hissed as he crossed the finish line in eighth. 

 

“Fine! I’m choosing Yoshi Falls,” Ashido said, clicking on the joystick. 

 

“How do you define how good a map is or not?” Sero laughed at Bakugou. 

 

“Depends what place I come,”

 

“Egotistical shit,” Kirishima commented. 

 

“Bring it to the battlefield I’ll take any of you out,” 

 

“I’m okay without validating you thanks,” Kirishima continued as he raced passed Bakugous false start. 

 

“I wish someone would take me out,” Ashido sighed, once again ignoring the conversation around her. 

 

“On a date?” Sero asked. 

 

“Hold on I’ll grab Deku and get him to use his damn quirk on you, take you both out,” Bakugou grinned. 

 

“Ha!”

 

“Two birds, one stone,”

 

“Wait what?!” Ashido cried. “Bakugou you love my company and don’t you even deny it,”

 

“Fuck off,” 

 

“See,” 

 

“I thought you were going to train?” Sero asked.  

 

“This is training,” Bakugou hissed as he fell off the bridge. “Besides I only really wanted to drop bricks on Kirishima,” 

 

“Bro!” 

 

“I’m joking, stop getting your knickers in a twist. Or should I say boxers?” Bakugou laughed, turning and expertly grabbing the band of Kirishima’s jogging pants with one hand. “Sorry. Not. Manly enough... For. You!” he gasped through gritted teeth as he attempted to give his best friend a wedgie. 

 

“You’re such an idiot!” Kirishima cried as he attempted to set himself free. 

 

“Ha, I know!! Instead of Bakugou, how about Baka-gou,” Ashido laughed. 

 

“You son of a-“

 

“Bakugou!” Kirishima whined from behind him. 

 

“Fine you needy piece of shit. Let me finish off this round and I’ll come out with you. We’ll do a circuit okay?” 

 

“Can I join?” Todoroki called. 

 

“Can we fight?” Bakugou asked as the younger teen nodded. “Then yeah,” 

 

“You can’t fight on school grounds without permission,” Iida reminded them.  

 

“Okay you can join our circuit if you’re an obstacle,” Bakugou replied, Todoroki shrugging as he placed a bookmark in his chapter. 

 

“Todoroki you shouldn’t let them control you like that!” Iida cried from beside him. 

 

“No, it’s okay. I find it funny that they assume they’ll get past me,” Todoroki replied. 

 

“You little-” 

 

“Bakugou you have a fucking blue shell, use it!” Kaminari cried in annoyance. 

 

“Kaminari you’re in first!” 

 

“Not for the blue team,” 

 

“Wait since when were there teams?” Bakugou snapped. 

 

“Since round one idiot!” 

 

“I don’t want to hit Ashido though I want to hit Kaminari!” he hissed. 

 

“Why?!”

 

“Because he’s in first!”

 

“But he’s on your team!”

 

“I fucking hate teams,”

 

“Also Bakugou you’re eleventh,”

 

“I’m fucking what?!”

 

“So Ashido, why wouldn’t you want to go out with Midoryia?” Kaminari asked. 

 

“What?”

 

“Just a question seeing as you laughed at the suggestion earlier,” 

 

“Well I don’t know?” Ashido pondered, turning red. “He likes Uraraka?”

 

“Correction,” Todoroki spike up. “Uraraka likes Midoryia. I don’t know who Midoryia likes,”

 

“Uraraka likes Midoriya? In what way?” Iida asked in surprise. 

 

“Use your imagination dickhead,” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Midoryia likes All Might and his mum,”

 

“Bakugou!”

 

“What? It’s fucking true,” 

 

“Bakugou use your bullet already!” Sero groaned. 

 

“Why?!”

 

“Because we’ve all past the finish line apart from you,” 

 

“What?!” Bakugou yelled, shoving his controller into the pillow beside him. “Oh fuck this, come on Kirishima,” as he turned Todoroki got up as well. “Oh yeah, you’re coming too,” 

 

“Laters,” Kirishima smiled as the three left the room. 

 

“Have fun!” Ashido called back. 

 

“Can someone get Bakugou over the finish line?” Kaminari asked as he turned to the kitchen. “Iida did you want to play?”

 

“What game are you playing?” Iida asked, tilting his glasses. 

 

“Mario Kart,”

 

“Yes, please, although I have to warn you, I’m surprisingly good at this one,” he smiled as he took his seat next to Ashido. 

 

“Yes Iida!” she grinned at him. 

 

“You can try and beat our reigning champion,” Sero nodded in the direction of Kaminari. 

 

“Mhmm,”

 

“I will try my hardest,” Iida replied as the round re-started. 

 

“Do you fancy anyone Iida?” Ashido asked as they set off. 

 

“Well. I don’t think it’s very professional for pro hero’s to date other pro’s. Personally, I think I’d be too scared for their well-being to be able to be in a relationship,” 

 

"So you do fancy someone,”

 

“How would one know?” 

 

“Fuck I don’t know. You like their company and it makes you sad when they leave?”

 

“You want to touch their-“

 

“Shut up Sero I swear!”

 

“Em... I don’t think I completely understand,” Iida replied. 

 

“I was getting somewhere with that!” Ashido cried at Sero who was still giggling. 

 

“I should probably make you aware, I am still here,” Iida commented, throwing a red shell. 

 

“Idiot” Kaminari hissed at Ashido once more. 

 

“Oh shit I haven’t done the English homework,” Sero suddenly cried as he took a sharp turn. “Eh, I’ll do in the break before class tomorrow,”

 

“It’s an essay!” Iida cried. 

 

“Oh yeah...” Sero trailed off before; “Yeah I’ll manage it,” 

 

“You make me scared,” Iida said. “Which character am I again?”

 

“Bowser,” Ashido replied. “Wait what?!”

 

“Sorry I didn’t know,” 

 

“But you’re in third! How are you in third when you didn’t even know who you were playing as?!”

 

“I have a knack,” 

 

“Jesus Christ how have we not known this before?!”

 

“You assumed from my outer appearance that I was not that type of person,”

 

“Iida no offense-“ Sero started. 

 

“Of course,”

 

“-but yeah,” 

 

“Not enough for second yet though!” Kaminari cried as he shot past the finish line. 

 

“Yes Kaminari you are a formidable opponent,” Iida agreed as he followed moments behind him. “To be fair I have never played on a Nintendo Switch before,”

 

“Wow. I love you,” Ashido beamed. 

 

“But me being good at games. Is that a trait I should have if I’m trying to get someone to like me?” Iida continued. 

 

“So you do like someone!”

 

“I never said that!”

 

“Depends what kinda person you want to like you but yeah I’d say gaming is a plus. I’d like it if a girl I was with played games,” Sero grinned at his classmate. 

 

“Fair enough. I’ll bear it in mind,”

 

“No! Who do you like!” Ashido cried. 

 

“Ashido stop pestering him and get your butt into gear, you’re letting the team down here,” Kaminari said, pointing at the screen. 

 

“I’ve got half a lap to catch up!”

 

“Usually I just assume girls don’t like me,” Sero shrugged. 

 

“Sero no!”

 

“Nah it’s fine I don’t mind. Well, I do but being a hero is way more important- hey! How did you catch me at the last second!” 

 

“Fourth place!” Ashido yelled in victory. “And from seventh. Right, I’m getting a snack. Who else wants one,” she smiled as she bounded over to the kitchen. 

 

“Depends what you’re getting,” Sero replied. 

 

“I don’t know. Oh, there’s pears!” she smilies studying the packaging. “Oh, they’re ripe and ready,” 

 

“Ready for what though?” Kaminari winked. 

 

“Consumption I presume,” Iida replied. 

 

“Iida you’re amazing,”

 

“Thank you,” 

 

“Seriously though, does anyone else want a pear?” Ashido asked again. 

 

“Nah I’m good,” Sero replied. 

 

“Toss one over,” Kaminari called, raising one hand. Ashido’s throw was low though and the fruit slammed into the back of the sofa instead. 

 

“Actually throw it then,” Kaminari joked. 

 

“Catch it then,” she retorted. 

 

“Piss off then,”

 

“Fuck off then,” 

 

“Kaminari! Ashido!” 

 

“Ha it’s just banta, don’t worry Iida,”  Kaminari smiled as he reached round to retrieve the snack. “Alright, I’ve chosen Cheep Cheep Beach,”

 

“Last round isn’t it?” Sero asked 

 

“Yeah,” 

 

“Last chance to beat Kaminari Iida!”

 

“I intend on it,” Iida replied

 

“You can fucking try,” Kaminari grinned, before realising. “Sorry Iida,”

 

“No, it’s okay. It’s banta,” 

 

“Of course! Always dude,” 

 

“Okay, we ready?” Sero asked as he selected Luigi’s Mansion. 

 

“Hell yeah!” Ashido cried and the teens pressed ‘a’. 

 

There was a flurry of movement, as the four set off. Kaminari instantly took the lead but Iida was on his tail. Kaminari slid a banana behind him catching the boy out as they entered the second lap. 

 

“You-!” Iida started. 

 

“Oh my God Iida nearly swore,” Ashido giggled as she passed Sero in fifth. 

 

Kaminari kept his lead until the very last stretch. 

 

“I have a blue shell!” Sero cried moments away from the finish line. 

 

“Who would you get out?” Ashido asked quickly. 

 

“Ah sorry man,” Sero smiled as he released it. There was a moment as it passed Iida, before circling and crashing into Kaminari. 

 

Game over. 

 

“No! What. The. Fuck!” Kaminari yelled as Iida placed his controller down proudly.

 

“It’s okay,” he smiled, pushing his glasses back up where they’d fallen. “You’re still first overall,”

 

“Iida your glasses were really low, could you even see the screen?” Ashido asked. 

 

“No. Not really,” Iida replied as Ashido’s mouth dropped. Kaminari was about to protest again when the door slammed open revealing Bakugou. 

 

“Do you know where Aizawa is?” he barked. The teenagers looked around at each other. 

 

“In his room I think,” Ashido replied. “Why?”

 

“I-“

 

“Did you drop a brick on Kirishima?” Sero asked jokingly. 

 

“Not exactly,” Bakugou hissed. 

 

“What did you drop on Kirishima?” Kaminari asked seriously. 

 

“Right it’s not my fucking fault okay? He said he wanted to be an obstacle,” 

 

“What? Who?” Sero asked confused. 

 

“Todoroki,”

 

“What did you do Bakugou?” Iida said quickly. 

 

“Did you drop Todoroki on Kirishima?” Ashido cried. 

 

“What are you? An idiot?!” Bakugou snapped. “No it was an accident! I... We...”

 

“Bakugou..?”

 

“We set him on fire,”

Notes:

P.S. for context
1. ‘Baka’ is the Japanese equivalent for the English word ‘idiot’.
2. No Kaminari’s were hurt in the making of this fic. He had full hardening on, he was fine, Todoroki was shooketh and Bakugou got really clingy for the rest of the evening :)

Chapter 9: Sick Aizawa

Notes:

PLAY REHEARSALS ARE KILLING ME!!! Haha I'm sorry it's been so long guys, please forgive me. The run ends next Tue (when I finally see Two Heroes yassss) and then we're back to normal!
Also on a side note - so I'm really badlyyyyyy dyslexic and I'm using Grammarly but I'm still making way too many SPaG errors for my liking - I sincerely apologise, any tips?

Anyway enjoy! x

Class 1A knew that something was up with their homeroom teacher from the moment he walked into first period. The pro clearly hadn’t gotten any sleep, the bags under his eyes a sinful shade of black, although maybe that was just in contrast to his exceedingly pale skin. Goosebumps trickled along his cheeks and his hair, usually and surprisingly well kept, was slick against his forehead. 

 

He just looked awful.

 

The class slowly but skillfully turned to look at one another, sharing the same look of confusion, before watching as Aizawa shakily set his papers down. Jiro craned her neck to look at Midoryia, mouthing ‘Do you think he’s okay?!’. Midoryia shrugged back, shaking his head slightly. Iida pushed his glasses further up his face, Uraraka sitting up a little to see past him. Bakugou still had his head resting on his arms, but even he raised an eye. The whole class was waiting in muted silence. 

 

“What?” came the familiar growl from the front of the room. “I can feel you all staring,”

 

Every student pretended that there was something fascinating on the desk in front of them. 

 

Aizawa sighed. Although, at this point it was more of a groan. 

 

“Let’s begin,” he snapped and cautiously homeroom began.

 

— 

 

Ten minutes into homeroom and things took a turn for the worse. The class had been handed worksheets and told gruffly to ‘get on with it’ before Aizawa had placed himself at his desk. He’d paled increasingly, beads of sweat appearing at his forehead. And he was fidgeting. His hands wiping at his jeans, then pulling at his collar. The constant moving was attracting the attention and worry of his twenty students.

 

Midoryia watched this unfold from the back of the class. Something was up with his homeroom teacher. If previous experience was anything to go on, Aizawa looked as if he was going to be sick. Trying to catch the attention of Todoroki just behind him, he noticed that he wasn’t the only one coming to the same conclusion, the whole class seemingly on edge.

 

As if on cue, Aizawa stood up with a start, his chair squealing against the floor, the entirety of 1A looking up. Aizawa hadn’t noticed. The man had gone a deathly shade of white, moving quickly to the door, hand over his mouth, swinging around the door frame to break into a run. 

 

There was silence, a couple of papers falling off the desk with a clatter.

 

“Do you think he’s gone to be sick?” Uraraka asked slowly. 

 

“I hope not,” Yaoyoruzu replied worriedly, the class beginning to fidget in their seats. 

 

“Should someone go after him?” Kirishima suggested awkwardly. 

 

“We don’t know where he’s gone,” Todoroki pointed out.

 

“Besides,” Iida interrupted. “We don’t know if he really is sick. He could have just been called out of the room,”

 

There was a small pause. 

 

“Although, that seems extremely unlikely,” Iida finished with a sigh. 

 

“What do we do then?” Jiro asked the room. 

 

“We should just carry on with our work,” Asui piped up. “Not cause any more fuss for Sensei,”

 

“Good idea Asui!” Iida cried. “I have finished the sheet however,”

 

“Do mine for me then,” Kaminari grinned, flying his paper-airplane-of-a-worksheet in Iida’s direction. It hit Koda on the head instead. “Oh shit! Sorry!” he cried, Asui reaching across with her tongue to flick him around the head.

 

Koda signed ‘idiot’ and there was a moment of shock before the class erupted into giggles. It was rare to see Koda become sarcastic but the more and more he’d become comfortable with his classmates, the more and more he’d picked up on their mannerisms. 

 

As the class were still laughing, Aizawa returned. Shoji noticed him first, sending Ashido a look, who then tugged on Kaminari’s shirt. This went on until the class had returned to silence. They started at their homeroom teacher as he sat - crumpled - to his seat.

 

He hadn’t even bothered to tell them off for talking. 

 

‘He looks paler,’ Koda signed to Todoroki from under his seat. 

 

‘Agreed,’ Todoroki signed back. He paused for a moment before tearing off a corner of his worksheet and scribbling down a note. He passed the crumpled piece of paper across to Koda and signed instructions. ‘Give this to Asui,’

 

Koda did and Asui took it discreetly with her tongue, unfolding it in her lap. The rest of the class kept on glancing her way, trying not to catch the attention of their sick teacher. 

 

‘Find a way to take his temperature. Thumbs up for hot, thumbs down for cold’

 

Asui gave Todoroki a pointed look of ‘why me’. Todoroki shrugged and she was about to write out a reply when she noticed the glances. 

 

Sighing, she tentatively raised her hand. Aizawa looked up wearily. 

 

“Asui?” he croaked. 

 

“Err, can I ask you a question Sensei?” she asked awkwardly, taken aback by the weak tone in her teacher's voice. Aizawa beckoned her over and she got up, her seat scraping awkwardly behind her. She could feel nineteen pairs of eyes on her as she approached her teacher, honing her senses to try and figure out his body temperature. 

 

She didn’t need to hone in much. She gave Todoroki a quick thumbs up, before placing her worksheet in front of her teacher. 

 

“Can you check it over for me?” she asked quickly, feeling cool air brushing past her bare legs. Aizawa shivered, his teeth clenching as he gripped her work. Shit. Todoroki was controlling the temperature. The cold would make Aizawa worse. 

 

Asui firmly gave a thumbs down in Todoroki’s direction, his confused look earning a pointed look from her. 

 

Warm air flooded the room within seconds. Aizawa raised his eyebrows but seemed to visibly relax. 

 

“Questions four and seven are wrong,” he muttered, handing it back.

 

“Thank you Sensei,” Asui replied, hurrying back to her seat. She sat down and turned round to Todoroki. He motioned ‘writing’ to her and she ripped off a corner of her own sheet. 

 

The note was passed from Kirishima to Koda to Sato and then finally to Todoroki. He opened it quickly, one eye on Aizawa. The teacher had definitely started to suspect that something was up. 

 

‘He’s running a temperature. Looks like flu? Why did I have to go up?’

 

Todoroki ignored the last part, giving Asui a nod. Midoryia motioned to look at the note and it was passed from Yaoyoruzu to Mineta finally reaching the green haired teen who read through it quickly. Bakugou snapped his fingers under the table and Midoryia shoved it in his hand, turning back to Todoroki. He made a drinking motion with one hand, eventually signing it out. He shrugged as if to ask a question and Todoroki nodded. 

 

Midoryia put up his hand. It took a moment before Aizawa breathed in, preparing himself for whatever the boy wanted to ask.

 

“Midoryia?”

 

“Can I go and get a drink? Please,” he asked confidently, his voice trailing off as he spoke. 

 

“Yes,” Aizawa replied. Midoryia paused. 

 

“Did you want one? A drink that is,” he asked. Aizawa’s eyebrows raised but his demeanor faltered as he gripped his hands swallowing deeply. 

 

“I’m fine,” he breathed, the most un-fine he’d sounded all morning. 

 

“It’s no trouble-“ 

 

“Do what you want,” Aizawa interrupted quickly, the talking clearly not doing him any favors.

 

Midoryia nodded enthusiastically before pacing out of the room, sending his classmates a small triumphant smile.

 

It didn’t take long before he returned. There was only one plastic cup of water in his hands but no one questioned it as he sat it down in front of his teacher, silently returning to his work. Aizawa had assumed a position of lying his head on his desk, his arms curled up so it looked as if he could be sleeping.  

 

“Aizawa-Sensei!” Iida cried, standing up. 

 

“Iida,” Aizawa stated tiredly, his voice muffled through his sleeves. 

 

“Are you sure you’re well?” Iida asked, the class whipping their heads around to gauge their teacher's reaction. 

 

“I’m fine,” Aizawa growled, annoyed at being interrupted and beginning to stand. “I’m getting my sleeping bag,”

 

Aizawa began to move to the corner of the room but only made it two steps before faltering. Shoji got to him first, Midoryia soon behind. Aizawa waved them away but they stayed close.

 

“I'm fine,” he repeated shakily. “I’m tired, I’m going to sleep it off,”

 

“Should we get another teacher?” Midoryia asked, not about to tell his teacher just how much he was leaning on him.

 

“Don’t you dare,” came the cold reply. “Todoroki turn off your quirk or I’ll erase it,”

 

Todoroki looked as if he was about to argue but faltered. He reluctantly stopped producing warm air. He didn’t want Aizawa to have to use his quirk, he’d probably throw up or something. 

 

“Hand me that,” Aizawa muttered to Shoji, motioning to his sleeping bag. Shoji did as he was asked and Aizawa, still leaning onto Midoryia for support, got inside the yellow sleeping bag, lowing himself to the floor in the far corner of the room and twisting himself around. “There. I’m fine,” he said, curling himself up tightly. “Now get on with your work,”

 

Both boys were at a loss for words, turning back to their classmates who all held the same expressions. They returned to the sheets but this time no one was really doing any work. 

 

It took five minutes before Hagakure crept out of her seat. 

 

“He’s asleep,” she confirmed as she peered over her desk.

 

“Are you sure?” Sero asked, trying to do the same. “This is Aizawa we’re talking about,”

 

“Yeah, he’s out,” Hagakure replied.

 

“Thank God,” Kaminari sighed, sliding down his seat. “That was the most intense homeroom I’ve ever been in,”

 

“It’s not over yet,” Jiro quipped, getting up to join Hagakure next to their homeroom teacher. She knelt down slowly and raised her hand to his forehead. “Christ he’s hot,”

 

“How hot?” Iida asked quickly. 

 

“Not life-threateningly hot but defo fever level,” she replied with a shrug. “He looks cold though,”

 

“I’m using my quirk again,” Todoroki announced. 

 

“Take my seat then,” Hagakure offered. “You’ll be closer that way,”

 

“Okay, thank you,” the boy replied, moving to the front of the room. 

 

“I can make a blanket, it’s not too much trouble,” Yaoyorozu suggested, a couple of students nodding. 

 

“We don’t want to wake him up though,” Midoryia warned. 

 

“True,” Shoji added. “Although I don’t think a blanket will do that,”

 

“I think we should still get someone,” Ojiro said. 

 

“I agree,” Iida confirmed. “As class rep, it is my responsibility to take control when our teacher is-,”

 

“He looks so cute all curled up!” Ashido cried, interrupting Iida and earning a variation of hushes from her classmates. 

 

“He’s ill,” Midoryia pointed out.

 

“I know,” Ashido pouted. “Still cute though,”

 

“Ugh, he’s like double our age,” Kaminari joked.

 

“Shut up! Not like that!” 

 

“Iida and I will go get help?” Ojiro asked the room. There were some nods and a few ‘yes’s’ and the boys left. 

 

“I have the blanket,” Yayoruzu announced as she made her way to the front of the room. 

 

“This may be needed, oui?” Aoyama added, placing the trash can beside Aizawa’s head. There were some grimaces at the thought of seeing their teacher be sick. 

 

“Want a hand?” Midoryia asked, taking two corners of the blanket off of Yaoyoruzu. She smiled graciously and the two slowly draped it across their teacher. As it brushed past his hand, Aizawa shuffled, grabbing the fabric and pulling it into himself.

 

Ashido squealed.

 

“What’s happening here then listeners?” the distinctive voice of Present Mic cut through the whispers. The man walked up between the students, his usual brashness subdued in what could only be described at worry. The class moved aside as the pro knelt down beside their homeroom teacher. “What have you done now, eh Shota?” 

 

Aizawa groaned with the commotion and shifted, facepalming the floor. 

 

“Come on now, wake up sleepy head,” Mic smiled, shaking Aizawa’s shoulder softly. Aizawa shivered as Mic placed a hand around the back of his head, turning him around. Aizawa came to and batted his best friend away, sitting up slowly and looking around bleary-eyed.

 

“I thought I told you not to get someone,” he muttered softly, groaning as he looked up at the light. 

 

“Oh shut up Shota,” Mic scolded. “You should take a look at yourself. How the hell did you expect to teach in this state?”

 

Aizawa grunted in response, pulling his arms out of the sleeping bag to cover his eyes. 

 

“Who got the blanket?” Mic asked, pulling it around Aizawa’s shaking shoulders.

 

Yaoyorozu shyly put her hand up.

 

“Yaoyorozu did,” Jiro said for her.

 

“Good thinking,” Mic commended. “And Todoroki you using your quirk?”

 

“Yes Sensei,”

 

“Keep it up if you can,”

 

“Yes Sensei,”

 

“Deku got the water!” Uraraka piped up.

 

“Oh, and Aoyama the trash can,” Midoryia added, as the aforementioned bin was pushed in the teacher's direction. Hizashi passed it to Aizawa and the man took it, holding it underneath his head and leaning his forehead on the rim. “Asui also took his temperature,”

 

“Good job little listeners,” Mic smiled as the bell rang. “Right go to break I’ve got him from here. Todoroki, Iida and Ojiro can I borrow you? We need to get him to Recovery Girl,” 

 

“Yes Mic-Sensei,” the boys chorused. 

 

“Not that she’ll be able to do anything you’re so exhausted,” Mic warned Aizawa, pulling a strand of black hair out of the bin.

 

Aizawa groaned. `

 

The class reluctantly packed up their stuff, moving to the training grounds ready for Herorics 101. It was unnerving to see their teacher anything but in control. But hey it was nice to see that in essence, he was really just one of them.

 

 

Chapter 10: Home Ec

Summary:

“I’m teaching you home economics,” Aizawl growled, interrupting them.

This was going to be interesting.

OR

The kids can't cook, Tokoyami is genocidal, Aizawa never sleeps and they all nearly blow the place up. Again.

Notes:

Howdy guys!

Thank you so much for your continued support! It means the world to me! We've nearly doubled in subs over the last four chapters and I'm so grateful for every single one of you xx

I watched Two Heroes on Tuesday and loved it so much I'm going to see it again this Sunday haha XD Also my play is over so normal upload times from now onwards yay!

So this chapter came from the fact that I saw the UA Hero Course timetable online (it was at an official convention so I'm pretty sure it's canon) and I noticed that first thing on a Saturday they have Home Ec? Now in my British secondary school we used to have this thing called Food Tech where we made shitty meals like 'pasta salad' etc so I kinda based this off of that - I hope you enjoy regardless! And comments of all shapes and sizes are welcome, I love chatting to you guys x

PS technical notes are at the bottom :)

It was Saturday morning, first period and 1A was tired. To be honest, tired was really an understatement. The class had had a movie night on the Friday night, whilst Aizawa was out on patrol. Vlad King had only come in to check on them twice and before the group had realised it, it was 1 am. 

 

In fact, the only student who wasn’t tired, was Bakugou. He’d gone to bed at nine. 

 

None of them, however, could be bothered to deal with Lunch-Rush’s overly chirpy teaching style at 8:40 am on the weekend. 

 

So it was almost a good thing when Aizawa walked through the door. 

 

Iida, who was busying himself by pushing Ashido towards the direction of her seat, stopped and stared as the homeroom teacher padded to the empty desk. The rest of the class followed suit, edging towards their workstations, silence falling across the room. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei?” Midoryia piped up from his stool. “Where’s Lunch-Rush?”

 

“On patrol,” Aizawa replied shortly. “There was a villain that required his skill set-“

 

“What villain?!” Kaminari excitedly interrupted. 

 

“I can’t tell you that,” Aizawa shut him down. 

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because it is a police matter Kaminari!” Iida cried, standing up before promptly sitting down, his arms still waving. 

 

“I just forgot,” Aizawa admitted. He felt nineteen pairs of eyes shift. “There are hundreds of villains. You’re not going to be able to remember them all,” 

 

“What are we going to do then?” Ashido asked with a smile. “Do we get a free period?”

 

“Oh, sleep! My best friend,” Sero grinned. 

 

“I quite like home ec,” Asui mumbled from the corner of the room. 

 

“Me too,” Todoroki agreed from beside her. 

 

“Just because you’re good at it!” Sero groaned at the pair. 

 

“Yes, probably,” Asui replied. 

 

“I’m teaching you home economics,” Aizawl growled, interrupting them. 

 

There was a stunned silence, a shuffling of seats, before;

 

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he muttered. 

 

The class relaxed slightly grinning at their teacher who surprisingly, smirked back. Aizawa picked up a sheet and looked at it dimly. 

 

“Soba..? Who doesn’t know how to make soba?”

 

“Iida doesn’t know how to peel a fucking potato,” Bakugou answered with a growl, Iida turning to face the boy. 

 

“Bakugou! I do!” he cried, upset. 

 

“I know how to eat soba!” Kaminari grinned. 

 

Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose. 

 

“You all have this sheet in front of you, don’t you?” he asked, holding up the recipe sheet. There was a chorus of nods and their homeroom teacher peered at it. “Then get on with it,”

 

The room, apart from Todoroki, stared at him. Todoroki himself started getting out ingredients before stopping at his classmate's reaction. 

 

“What?” Aizawa asked. “What does Lunch-Rush normally do?” 

 

Iida raised his hand, standing. 

 

“Usually we get a briefing on kitchen safety-“ he started. 

 

“Don’t kill yourselves,” Aizawa interrupted. 

 

Iida stuttered. 

 

“Oh, or anyone else,” he added as an afterthought. “Then what?” 

 

“Usually we make it alongside Lunch-Rush...” Midoriya replied sheepishly, gauging his teacher's reaction. 

 

“Step by step!” Uraraka added. 

 

Aizawa’s nose flared. 

 

“But we don’t have to..?” Uraraka finished, her voice trailing. 

 

“Someone make me a coffee,” Aizawa told the room. Everyone looked at one another, no one daring to move. “Black,” 

 

Todoroki got out of his seat and flicked on the hob by his workstation. 

 

“Right get out your ingredients,” Aizawa mumbled, committing himself to the hellish torture that was cooking with twenty teenagers. 

 

“How much sleep have you had Aizawa-Sensei?” Ashido asked as she tied her apron. 

 

“None,”

 

“Sugar?” Todoroki asked, pouring boiling coffee into a mug.  

 

“No,” Aizawa replied before hesitating. “Wait. How long does this class go on for?”

 

“Fifty minutes but we usually use up break as well,” 

 

“Okay, I might need sugar,”

 

Todoroki heaped a teaspoon into the cup. 

 

“More,”

 

“How many spoonfuls?” the teen asked. 

 

“Eight,” 

 

Todoroki smirked. 

 

“It’s all or nothing kid,” Aizawa commented as Todoroki brought the steaming mug over to the front of the room. 

 

“May I remind you that we should do the register Aizawa-Sensei!” Iida called. “It is first period after all,”

 

Aizawa nodded before peering around the room. 

 

“Is everyone here?” he asked. 

 

“Everyone apart from Hagakure,” Yaoyoruzu called from where she was helping Asui get her apron on. 

 

“Anyone know where she is?”

 

No one replied. 

 

“Easy enough to find out,” Aizawa said, making a mental note and downing half the coffee in one. “Right! Soba!”

 

This was going to be interesting.

 

—

 

Twenty minutes in, and Aizawa had decided that he was never going to let his class cook dinner ever again. 

 

“Asui what have I told you about picking up ingredients with your tongue?” Aizawa sighed as the teen sheepishly dropped the handful - tongueful - of beansprouts out of her mouth. 

 

“Sorry Sensei,” she replied. 

 

“Does Lunch-Rush let you get away with that?” 

 

“He says it’s a good use of our quirks!” Midoriya cried. 

 

It made sense, the man didn’t have a face. 

 

“He also says never to share our food once we’re done,” Todoroki added. 

 

Ahh...

 

Aizawa looked at the clock on the wall. 

 

“Everyone turn the heat on your pans down,” he commanded in monotone. “The soba should be about done,” 

 

God, he hated how domesticated he sounded. Christ if these kids couldn’t boil water and then there was no hope for th-

 

“BAKUGOU WHY’S YOUR PAN ON FIRE?!” 

 

Shit. 

 

“I was trying to use my quirk!” the teen snapped at Iida who was attempting to cover the flames with a tea towel. “If I fill the pan with my sweat, then I can just blow the soba up and it’ll cook quicker!” 

 

“Bro you can’t eat nitroglycerin!” Kirishima cried from across his best friend. 

 

“I can!” 

 

“The pan’s melting! Jeez, you’ve got the gas on Bakugou! It’s going to explode!” Kaminari yelled.

 

‘I got this!” Sero yelled, sending a line of tape to catch the handle of the pan. He managed to pull the melting metal away from the flames but in doing so threw some of the boiling liquid onto Bakugou’s arm. The teen hissed, stepping backwards and just as Iida’s tea towel caught alight, there was a crackle and Todoroki’s ice encased the station. Aizawa thew himself over to turn off the gas as Todoroki’s ice receded into water.

 

“Did you even know the exploding point of nitroglycerin?” Iida asked after a few seconds of heavy silence. 

 

“Fucking whatever,” Bakugou hissed. 

 

“BAKUGOU!” Aizawa yelled, pulling the boy around to face him. “How STUPID and RECKLESS do you want to be? What if you’d blown the place up? Then what?”

 

Bakugou shrugged but looked bashful enough. 

 

“You will be paying for EVERY bit of damage done to this classroom. UA may be a free reign to use your quirks but that’s NOT an excuse to take the piss,”

 

Bakugou nodded. 

 

“As for the REST of you,” Aizawa cried, addressing the class. “Sero, crap idea, shocking execution, what the HELL were you thinking?”

 

“Sorry Sensei…”

 

Aizawa took a breath.

 

“Tororoki, your quirk is ice,”

 

The teenager looked puzzled. 

 

“Water? And that-” He pointed at the gas stove. “Was a GAS FIRE,”

 

“Oh,”

 

“Only Iida had the right idea, using the towel to smother the flames,”

 

Iida stood. 

 

“But if you’re going to comment on the fact that I didn’t do a safety briefing, then you can sit back down immediately,” Aizawa glared. 

 

Iida sat. 

 

Bakugou shifted behind them. Todoroki stepped forward and before the explosive teen could push him away, he placed one palm over the affected arm, covering it with a thin layer of frost. 

 

“Fuck off Icy-Hot…” 

 

“Bakugou,” Aizawa said, stepping in front of the teen and gesturing for his arm. The boy reluctantly handed it over and the pro looked it over with a sigh. “Go to Recovery Girl, this may be your sweat but it was still over a hundred degrees. You’re burnt,” 

 

“I don’t need the old woman,” Bakugou snapped, trying and failing to pull his arm away from his homeroom teacher. 

 

“Recovery Girl. Go,” he warned. Bakugou pouted but didn’t argue back. “Kirishima go with him. And don’t use this as an excuse to get out of next period. Both your grades in Physics aren’t living up to last terms standards,”

 

“Yes Sensei!” Kirishima cheered, grabbing Bakugou’s free hand. “Come on bro,”

 

“Let go of my hand,” Bakugou growled whilst making no actual attempt to pull himself away as the two exited the classroom. 

 

“This entire table is going to have to move,” the pro explained. “I won’t know where the rest of the nitroglycerin will have hit until it stains, and I’m not risking heating up the area in case it explodes. Find a partner,” he told Kaminari, Sero, and Tokoyami. The three boys looked around the room finally wondering over to another classmate. Tokoyami gratefully paired with Midoryia, Sero with Ashido and Kaminari with Sato.

 

“What ya putting on your soba Sato?” Kaminari asked, dragging his stool over.

 

Sato pulled a 2kg bag of granulated sugar over one shoulder and slammed it down on the counter.

 

“Nice!”

 

“Now we have partners we could make it into a bit of a competition!” Ashido said, her arm linked with Aoyama. 

 

“To lighten the mood oui?” Aoyama stage-whispered, eyeing up their homeroom teacher who was inspecting the damage to the other desk, fury radiating off of him.

 

“What like a food war?!” Kaminari grinned.

 

“I don’t want to be compared to some other sub-par shonen,” Aoyama pouted.

 

“Aoyama your 2D is showing,” Ashido warned.

 

“J’aime être le sujet de rêves fangirls,”

 

“Yeah… Cool!” Kaminari beamed awkwardly. “Even if the competition is just between us, that way Aizawa can’t get pissed!”

 

“Did someone mention competition?” Todoroki asked from behind them.

 

“Where did you come from Todo?” Ashido asked.

 

“I needed the scissors,” he replied, picking them off of the table. “I want to be part of the competition,”

 

“Well, yeah sure!” Ashido agreed. Todoroki nodded curtly.

 

“Bring it on,”

 

“He does realize that it’s just a friendly thing right?” Ashido murmured as the boy walked back to his station.

 

“It’s Todoroki,” Kaminari reasoned. “Probably not,”

 

“Midoryia and Tokoyami also want to be part of the competition,”

 

“Jesus! Todoroki!” Ashido cried, her hand instincitly rising to her chest. “You gave me a heart attack!”

 

“Sorry,” Todoroki replied. “I was handing the scissors back,”

 

“That was… quick,” Kaminari remarked.

 

The trio looked over to Midoryia’s table. Dark Shadow was giving them a thumbs up and Midoryia seemed to be punching the air ‘plus ultra’ style. Uraraka was pointing to herself and then her saucepan of soba. 

 

“Urarka wants to be part of the competition as well,”

 

“This is going to be cool!” Ashido grinned as they watched Iida push up his glasses. 

 

“Iida wants to be part of the competition too,”

 

“Yeah, we’re getting the idea, thanks man,” Kaminari smiled.

 

“How long do we have left of the lesson Aizawa-Sensei?” Midoryia asked, a glint in his eye. 

 

“Twenty minutes. Remember you’re meant to be writing up your recipes in your workbooks,” Aizawa replied, turning back to his desk. “And if anyone mentions anything about nitroglycerin then I’ll drag you into detention alongside Bakugou. Got it?”

 

There were a collection of nods and the ‘competition’ was on. 

 

“Okay we’re going to have to rethink man,” Kaminari turned to Sato. “That’s too much sugar,”

 

“What are you thinking?” Sato asked.

 

“Chocolate?”

 

“Yeah man!”

 

—

 

It had been ages since Aizawa properly cooked. Usually, he went to a 7eleven after his shifts or sometimes an instant ramen would do. Mostly he was just fuelled on coffee. To be honest, he would always be grateful for UA for providing a canteen service. He knew what good nutrition was but it was always something he’d worry about later.

 

Saying that, he was a good cook.

 

Compared to nineteen, well now seventeen teenagers at least. 

 

Bakugou should be grateful he was on the hero course or Aizawa would have kicked him out months ago. Along with the rest of class 1A.

 

“What are you doing with your soba Aizawa?” Asui asked as she walked past him to collect some soy sauce (with her hands this time). 

 

“Aubougine, seasame seeds and edamame. With some sort of miso glaze, I haven’t got it figured out yet,” he murmured as he chopped vegetables. 

 

“Wow, you’re good,” Asui complimented her homeroom teacher.

 

“Get on with your work,” Aizawa replied with a small smirk. 

 

—

 

“I think it needs more chocolate,” Kaminari commented as him and Sato opened a new packet. 

 

“Be careful it doesn’t burn,” Yaoyoruzu commented as she passed the table. 

 

“Don’t worry we’re not Bakugou!” Kaminari grinned, earning a small smile and raised eyebrow from Momo. 

 

“What do you think of mine?” Ashido asked the girl as she came over. 

 

“Why is it pink?”

 

“Food colouring!” Ashido smiled. “I think it looks cute this way,”

 

“It certainly looks unique!” Yaoyoruzu replied with a smile. “Is that edible glitter?” she asked Aoyoama. 

 

“Oui! Isn’t it magnifique!”

 

“Again, certainly something!”

 

“How’s Todoroki doing?” Aoyoama suddenly asked in a hushed whisper, pulling Momo down towards him. 

 

“Woah! Err okay I think!” Yaoyorozu replied sheepishly. “It looks like soba!”

 

“That’s no help!” Ashido cried. 

 

“Well compared to yours I think it’s a good description!”

 

—

 

“Hey, Tokoyami! What are you doing for yours?” Midoriya asked the boy as he watched Dark Shadow fetch ingredients for the teen. 

 

“Well I had two choices but I think I’ve decided,” Tokoyami smiled. 

 

“Oh, what?” Uraraka asked, peering over his work bench. 

 

“Chicken,” Tokoyami replied. 

 

“What... was the second option?” Midoriya asked nervously. 

 

“Duck,” 

 

“Oh! Interesting!” Uraraka cried, a little too enthusiastically. 

 

“How about you Midoriya?” Tokoyami asked. 

 

“Oh it’s my mums recipe,” Midoriya beamed. 

 

“So is mine,” Iida chimed in. “Passed down through the generations,”

 

“You’re so noble Iida,” Uraraka giggled. 

 

“This recipe was also passed down through my family,” Tokoyami said, holding up a chicken breast. “We serve it at funerals. Obviously, we don’t use chicken however,”

 

“Tokoyami,” Iida started. “Are you saying you... eat your-“ 

 

“Yes,”

 

The table paled. 

 

“I’m joking!” Tokoyami cried, beginning to laugh. “We don’t eat our relatives!“

 

“Tokoyami! Oh my God!” Uraraka squealed. 

 

“Tokoyami please,” Iida asked, placing his hands on the boys shaking shoulders. “Don’t do that to me,”

 

Tokoyami would have replied if he wasn’t laughing so hard. 

 

Midoriya was speechless. 

 

“We make good crackling,” Tokoyami added before wheezing. 

 

“Plate up and clear up!” Aizawa called. “There’s only five minutes until break and I’m not staying into next period,” 

 

“Isn’t it Aizawa’s day off?” Yaoyorozu asked Asui as she ran the tap. 

 

“Ribbit, yep,” Asui replied. 

 

“Wow... do you think he’s eaten?” Yaoyorozu murmured. 

 

“Hmm probably not...” Asui commented. “I would have offered him my Soba but it has grasshoppers in it,”

 

“Asui... what?” Jiro asked from across the table. 

 

“They’re nice,” Asui defended. 

 

“Don’t worry I wasn’t judging!” Jiro laughed. “How did you find them,”

 

“Off the ground,” Asui croaked back. Yaoyorozu and Jiro gave one another a grin. Their class was weird. 

 

“I’m back!” Kirishima cried, coming through the door. 

 

“Good, there’s washing up to do,” Aizawa commented.

 

“Ah what?!”

 

“How’s Bakugou?” Sero asked as the red head came over to their workstation.

 

“Oh he’s okay, all fixed up but Recovery Girl told him to rest. He wasn’t too pleased about that, idiot,” Kirishima grinned. 

 

“Come and help with the washing up then,” Ashido pouted. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Kirishima replied, walking over to where his friend was. “Why is everything pink and glittery..?”

 

—

 

Five minuets later and the bell rang. Aizawa was drying off his hands and turned to the class who stood behind their workstation, steaming bowls of soba in front of them. 

 

They hadn’t done half bad. Considering. 

 

“Time for the judging!” Ashido cried.

 

“The what?” Aizawa asked. 

 

“Oh sorry! We decided to have a little competition,” Ashido smiled. 

 

“Sensei can you be the judge?” Jiro asked. “Oh I’m not in the competition,” she added with a grin. “I just want to see what you thought,” 

 

“Plus you must be hungry,” Yaoyoruzu commented shyly. 

 

Aizawa sighed. 

 

“Fine, bring them up here,”

 

He was presented with four bowls of steaming hot soba, one completely cold one, one glitter bomb, one brown one (was it burnt or was that chocolate, oh wait it was both) and one bowl of pink snakes. Oh, wait that was soba…

 

“I’m not eating this one or this one,” he stated, pushing three bowls away from him. “Or this one,”

 

“Tu baise quoi??”

 

“Wait! Why?!” Ashido cried. 

 

“Oh Sensei!” Kaminari pouted.

 

“That, looks like your vomit,” Aizawa motioned to Aoyama’s bowl. “And that looks peroxide,”

 

“I didn’t use my quirk!”

 

“Well, you may as well have done. And this one is burnt,”

 

“It is?” Sato asked. 

 

“Don’t say 'I told you' or you’re dead,” Kaminari hissed at Momo. She grinned back.

 

“This one looks the most asethically pleasing,” Aizawa stated, pointing to Todoroki’s. “The taste, I’ll let you know this evening when you come back to dorms,”

 

“What!”

 

“Aizawa-Sensei why?!”

 

“Please?” 

 

“No,” Aizawa cut them off, motioning to the clock. “You have physics in ten minuets. Hand in your workbooks on your way out, tell no one about the last fifty minuets or you’ll be dead and have a productive day,” he rushed, shooing his students out of the classroom.

 

“Aizawa!”

 

“This is too cruel!”

 

“How did mine not get ‘most asetically pleasing?!”

 

“I won,” 

 

“No you didn’t Todoroki!”

 

“You were disqalified. I won,”

 

“There were more people than just you-“

 

Aizawa let the door slide shut on the last student and crumpled in Lunch-Rush’s chair. 

 

God he was hungry.

 

Picking up Tokoyami’s bowl of soba, he started eating. It was hot and flavourful, especially coming from the chicken broth… 

 

Chicken broth. 

 

Aizawa ignored that. 

 

Picking up the workbooks he flicked through them, happy that at least the period was over. He landed on today’s date and scanned through it for obvious spelling mistakes.

 

The first word he read, was ‘nitroglycerin’.

 

Fucking Goddamnit.

Notes:

Okay so,

1. I looked up nitroglycerin and it does have a separate boiling and exploding point, so it is possible for Bakugou to accidentally heat up his sweat without it going off although it is a bloody close call.

2. Ovbs the shonen Aoyama mentions is Shokugeki no Soma (good series)

3. Hagakura is absent because in the manga/anime she sometimes is when there's something going on to do with villain attack... #ithinkshestheUAtraitorsorrynotsorry

Chapter 11: But You're Not Alone

Summary:

“Todoroki,” Aizawa stuttered. “What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want to go home,” Torokoki replied. “I didn’t want to see dad,”

-

OR

Todoroki wanted to be home alone for the holidays so he could be ill in peace but now Aizawa's gatecrashed to be the dad he never had.

Notes:

Hey my beautiful readers, thank you so much for your continued support xx

This chapter isn't going to be 'funny'??? I guess you'd have to say. With the cold weather settling in and the evenings getting darker, I've reverted back to the fic's I'm best at. Sickfics haha

But you came here for dadzawa and a protective parental fluffy Aizawa you shall get in tenfold.

Also, this is my longest chapter so cheers to that :)

Aizawa opened the door to the 1A dorms with a heavy arm. Patrol had dragged. The day before had been the last day of term and the homeroom teacher had left the dismissal of his class to Vlad King as his students went home for the holidays. 

 

Right, with an empty dorm he had a few hours of napping before he should probably pack up and make his way back to his own flat. 

 

As he shut the door behind him however he heard a noise coming from the common area. He froze. 

 

“Hello?” he called out, his capture weapon floating towards his free hand. 

 

There shouldn’t be anyone here. The kids went home yesterday. 

 

So someone had broken in. 

 

“Who’s there?” he called, edging towards the sound. The tiredness had faded, replaced by adrenaline. He was ready to fight if he needed to. 

 

Coming round the corner he noticed a figure on one of the sofas, blankets piled high.

 

What the-?

 

“Sensei?” a voice asked, a head poking up from the mountain of cloth. 

 

“Todoroki,” Aizawa stuttered in reply. “What-?”

 

He retracted his capture weapon, allowing time to compose himself. 

 

“What are you doing here?” he repeated. 

 

“I didn’t want to go home,” the boy replied before the head disappeared behind the sofa once more.

 

Alarm bells rang in Aizawa’s mind. Something was wrong. The teen was acting extremely out of character, not looking at his teacher, not avoiding his damn questions like usual...

 

It was worrying.

 

“Why?” he asked, coming forward so he could see the mass of white and red hair coating the furniture.

 

“I didn’t want to see dad,” Torokoki replied, a lump growing in Aizawa’s throat. 

 

“You’re going to have to give me more than that kid,” Aizawa prompted, an edge to his voice.

 

“He wanted to go training this weekend,” Todoroki stated. “And I really don’t want to train,”

 

“Why not?” Aizawa asked, fearing the worst. Todoroki just shrugged back, clearly not in the mood to talk. “Did something happen?” 

 

There was a pause before Todoroki shook his head. 

 

“Where does your father think you are?” Aizawa asked, changing tact. He was already dreading the twenty missed calls and the angry complaints to the school that Endeavour would inevitably aim at him when he found out his kid hadn’t returned for the holidays. 

 

“I told my dad I was doing extra classes here for the weekend,” Todoroki replied. 

 

Aizawa’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. Extra classes would come with the connotation that the boy was failing. Whatever the reason for not wanting to see his father, it must be bad for the teen to lie like that. 

 

“Why didn’t you want to go home and train Todoroki?” Aizawa pressed, slightly annoyed that the boy was still half turned away from him, wrapped up in blankets on the sofa. There was a long pause, a shuffle under the blankets before;

 

“I don’t feel well,” Todoroki replied softly. 

 

Ah. 

 

Ah. 

 

As Aizawa approached the sofa he could begin to tell that Todoroki did, in fact, look sick. His hair was sticking to his forehead slightly, bags under his eyes, shivering despite being covered in blankets. Aizawa moved one hand across the boy's forehead. 

 

“You’re burning up,” he remarked. Todoroki shrugged. 

 

“I think it’s the flu,” he suggested. “I ache,”

 

“Have you been sick?” 

 

A small nod. “Once,”

 

“Then you’re probably right,” Aizawa sighed. Great. Now he had a sick kid to look after over the weekend. Just his luck. At least it was Todoroki. The teen was pretty self-sufficient. “Todoroki,” Aizawa asked, kneeling down in front of the sofa so he had the teens full attention. “Would your father have forced you to train?”

 

A pause. 

 

“No,” Todoroki replied, mulling over the question. “Probably not anyway. I’m a lot stronger now,”

 

Aizawa gave him a look. 

 

“He would have insisted pretty hard I guess,”

 

“And your sister? Could she not look after you?”

 

“I don’t want anyone looking after me,”

 

Fair enough. 

 

“Well you can’t stay here without there being a member of staff living here as well,” Aizawa explained. That got the teens attention. Todoroki wearily looked up, a face full of disappointment. 

 

“Do I have to go home?” he asked. 

 

“Luckily, I have a meeting tomorrow morning. I was going to move back to my flat tonight but it makes no difference to me if I stay the weekend,” Aizawa explained watching the boys face relax. “You can’t go home in this state anyway,” 

 

“I didn’t mean to inconvenience you,” Todoroki apologised. 

 

“You’re not,” Aizawa lied, moving around the sofa. “No wonder you’re shivering, half the blankets are on the damn floor,” he commented, picking up one corner of the cloth and throwing it onto the teen. “Look at you, you look like a slob,” 

 

Todoroki looked up momentarily but noticed Aizawa smirking and laid his head back down. 

 

“Move up,” Aizawa commanded, Todoroki curling his legs up so that Aizawa could sit beside him. “What am I going to do with you kids eh?” 

 

Todoroki looked up bashfully at his homeroom teacher, who lent across to pick up the remote. 

 

“Don’t you have any plans for today?” the teen asked. 

 

“I was out on patrol last night, so sleeping probably,” Aizawa yawned. 

 

“How was it?” 

 

“Uneventful. Mostly petty theft, one villain robbed a small corner shop, that was about as interesting as it got,” 

 

“Good for society,”

 

“Yeah,” Aizawa agreed. “Good for society,”

 

He flicked through channels for a while, shuffling down on the sofa to get more comfortable. 

 

“Wouldn’t you rather sleep in your room?” Todoroki asked from his laid down position. 

 

“No,” Aizawa lied again. 

 

“Okay,” Todoroki murmured, his eyes sliding shut. Aizawa watched him fall asleep with a sigh. 

 

Happy holidays to them both. 

 

He left the tv on the news channel, turning the volume right down before letting his own eyes close. He’d slept in worse positions, hell once he’d slept leaning on Iida’s bed. 

 

What a pain. 

 

—

 

Aizawa reawoke to the sound of retching. He looked across at the empty spot beside him, patting the still warm blankets. 

 

The retches continued. 

 

“Todoroki?” he called. “Are you okay?” 

 

There was a small silence before a small voice called back;

 

“Yeah,”

 

Like hell was that kid okay. 

 

Aizawa sighed, standing up. What did he do to deserve this kind of luck? He was going to kill Endeavour the next time he saw him, the shit parent. Todoroki could handle himself for sure but that didn’t mean the fifteen-year-old should have to. The worst thing was, Aizawa knew that if Todoroki had gone home, more than likely he would have pushed through training the next day. And Endeavour would probably have let him. Bastard. 

 

The pro located the noise to the shared toilet just off the kitchen. He rapped on the ajar door and waited. 

 

“Todoroki?”

 

“Don’t come in,” a voice choked back. “I’m okay,” 

 

“Alright,” Aizawa replied, giving the teen his privacy. He didn’t move from the doorway however, flicking on his phone and scrolling through the messages, sending a quick reply.

 

Five minutes later and Aizawa heard the toilet flush, the tap running before finally Todoroki pushed open the door. He’d paled considerably but looked a lot less uncomfortable. 

 

“Oh. You’re still here,” he muttered tiredly. 

 

“Come on,” Aizawa commanded after checking his student's forehead. “Medicine and water. We need to get that temperature down,” 

 

“Why are you doing this?” the boy asked, following his teacher. “It must be an inconvenience,” he repeated. 

 

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” Aizawa scolded lightly. Todoroki didn’t argue. Instead, he flopped back down on the sofa, the little energy he had, completely zapped. Aizawa grabbed a glass from the cupboard filling it with water and grabbing two paracetamol from the first aid kit. “You still cold kid?” he asked as he approached the shivering teen. Todoroki replied by pulling the blankets closer to him. “Okay, sit up,” he motioned, handing him the glass and tablets. He left the room with a yawn, waking up the heating and pulling some extra blankets from the laundry cupboard. 

 

“Won’t you get ill as well if you’re around me?” Todoroki asked as Aizawa collected the still full cup and shoved the blankets onto his students. 

 

“I have a surprisingly strong immune system,” he replied in his usual monotone. 

 

“Me too,” Todoroki replied. “Most of the time,” 

 

“You need to drink more,” Aizawa stated, handing the glass back to the reluctant teen. “Midnight's coming over. She wants to go through grades for tomorrow morning. That okay?” 

 

Todoroki nodded, miserably sipping on the water. 

 

Kid couldn’t be trusted to look after himself. 

 

“I don’t want any more,” Todoroki complained, pushing the cup in Aizawa’s direction. "I want a straw,"

 

“Don’t be stubborn,” Aizawa replied, refusing to take it. Todoroki sighed. 

 

“I’m tired,” he pushed. 

 

“Drink it,” 

 

Todoroki continued to take baby sips, slumped on the cushions, thoroughly pissed off. 

 

The kid wasn’t used to having someone look after him clearly.

 

Aizawa let him get away with drinking half and Todoroki was out cold in a minute. The pro grabbed some cleaning supplies from the kitchen, first wiping down the surfaces then going into the adjoining toilet. He was just about done, when his phone rang. 

 

He took one look at the caller and headed to the lift, clicking the button to open the main door. There was a second and the lift whirred, finally opening to the, albeit toned down, form of Midnight. 

 

“It’s winter,” Aizawa stated, looking down at her crop top and jeans. “Aren’t you cold?” 

 

“Shota!” she cooed loudly. “Pleasant as ever!” 

 

Aizawa placed a finger to his lips beckoning her in. 

 

“Keep your voice down,” he said. 

 

“What? Why-?” Midnight began to protest as Aizawa pointed her gaze in the direction of the sleeping Todoroki. 

 

“He’s come down with the flu,” he explained. “I can’t send him home like this,”

 

“Right,” Midnight replied.

 

“Don’t worry, you won’t get it,” Aizawa sighed. “I gave the surfaces a once over, just in case,”

 

“I have a mask,” Midnight smiled, relaxing slightly. “You could send him home yanno,” she smirked. “It might be more comfortable for him,”

 

“No,” Aizawa stated. “I have a feeling he’d be allowed to recover by himself and that won’t do. He’s safer in UA,”

 

“With you,” Midnight winked.

 

“If you like,”

 

“Shota! You’ve always been such a-“

 

“Don’t you dare say it,” Aizawa interrupted with a snarl. 

 

“Say what?” Midnight asked. 

 

“The f-word,”

 

Midnight looked at him confused. 

 

“Father,” 

 

“Shota!” she laughed with a glint in her eye. “I wouldn’t dare,”

 

“Good,”

 

“You’re more like a mother hen!” 

 

“Shut. Up,” Aizawa growled. 

 

“Oh but what about you and Hizashi? Huh? Whenever he was sick, you’d always go round to his and cook and-“

 

“What part of keeping your voice down did you not understand?” Aizawa grumbled. 

 

“Sorry, I thought I might be muffled,” Midnight quipped, attaching her mask over her ears.

 

“Liar,”

 

“You going home this Christmas then?” Midnight asked, changing the conversation as the two headed towards the table. 

 

“Yeah for a week or so, I don’t want to leave Tokyo too long with the crime rate on the rise for the holidays,”

 

“Where did your parents move again?” 

 

“Wajima, Ishikawa Prefecture,”

 

“Oh, that's a trek,”

 

“An hour flight,”

 

“Beautiful city though. Can I come with?” Midnight joked.

 

“Sure,” Aizawa replied. “My mum always loved you,”

 

“That because she always thought I was going to end up as your girlfriend,” 

 

“Oh,” Aizawa smirked. “Yeah,”

 

—

 

Two hours past and Todoroki didn’t murmur from his space on the sofa. Midnight and Aizawa were halfway through class 1A’s Modern Hero Art History grades.

 

“So what are we giving him? A B-?” Midnight asked as they flicked through student reports. 

 

“I still think he’s a C,” Aizawa muttered.

 

“No, he has potential. I think if we swapped his seat away from Bakugou, he might stand a chance in my lesson,” she argued.

 

“I like my seating plan,”

 

“Oh give over,” Midnight scolded. “B-,”

 

“Fine,”

 

“Okay, next!”

 

“Wait,” Aizawa said suddenly, turning in his chair.

 

“Why-?” Midnight started.

 

“Listen,”

 

Midnight did and as she homed in on the sounds within the room, she began to hear what sounded like cries from the other side of the room. Aizawa had already gotten up, striding to the sofas. 

 

“Todoroki?” Aizawa asked, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. He pulled it away quickly with a hiss. “Nemuri I think he’s losing control over his quirk,” 

 

Midnight looked up from her report and moved closer to where her childhood friend was looking over his student. Todoroki’s right side was covered in patches of frost, his left beginning to turn a shade of pink from the heat. His mouth was still moving as well, incoherent nonsense about training, spilling out of his mouth.

 

“I think you’re right,” she agreed, watching Aizawa’s brain whir. 

 

“Right,” he said shortly, his hair rising. Immediately the frost on the teen started to dissipate, Todoroki’s face relaxing as his quirk was detained. 

 

“And now what?” Midnight asked with a laugh. “You can’t do that forever,”

 

“I don’t have to,” Aizawa replied, using his hands to feel out for the coffee table behind him, dragging it closer to the sofa, whilst still keeping an eye on Todoroki. He sat on the furniture and leaned his chin on his hands. “I can stay like this for a couple of minutes and then give myself a break. It’s only until his fever passes,”

 

“Shota you can’t do that,” Midnight scolded. “You’ll overuse your quirk,”

 

“And what’s the alternative?” Aizawa asked. “It’ll be quirk training for me. Read the reports from the table,” he suggested. “We can work out amendments like this,”

 

“Why are you doing this?” she asked suddenly. Midnight watched as Aizawa sighed, his eyes focusing on his student before glazing over. 

 

“The boy didn’t want to go home because he didn’t want to tell his dad he was ill,” Aizawa started. “It was... it felt...”

 

“Wrong,” Midnight finished for him. 

 

“The kid needs to learn that just because he’s sick, he doesn’t automatically become an inconvenience to everyone else,” Aizawa continued with some determination. “And if that means that I have to sit by him and remove his quirk for however long just to prove it to him, then I will,” 

 

Midnight smiled behind her mask. If there was a reason Aizawa was a hero, then this was it. She’d seen him grow up, not get into the hero course, only to then be fast-tracked into her class. She'd seen him gain his provisional license, cry from his first death, his first defeat. Drank with him when the three got jobs at UA. Devastated for him, when he’d temporarily lost his place at as a teacher after their USJ incident. He would do anything to protect his students and she knew he still thought of himself as a failure.

 

“You’re reckless,” she sighed. “There are better ways,”

 

“Like?”

 

“Wake the kid up,” she replied. “Get him to gain control back over his quirk himself,” 

 

“He needs rest,” Aizawa reasoned.

 

“So do you!” Midnight reminded him with a sigh. 

 

“Give me half an hour like this and then I’ll think about it,” Aizawa compromised. 

 

“Fine. Where are your eye drops?”

 

“My room, bedside table, bottom drawer,”

 

“Okay!”

 

“And no snooping!”

 

“No way!”

 

“Wait was that a ‘no way’ as in you wouldn’t? Or a ‘no way’ as in of course you’re going to? Midnight?!” Aizawa hissed as she left.

 

Brilliant.

 

—

 

She returned a few minutes later, eye drops in one hand.

 

“What did you do?” Aizawa asked as he gave himself a break, eyes closing.

 

“Nothing,” 

 

Aizawa stared through closed eyes.

 

“I tidied up a bit…”

 

“Nemuri, why?” Aizawa groaned. “Everything is in a specific place for a-“

 

“Reason, yeah, yeah I know,” Midnight smiled. “You haven’t changed one bit Shota,”

 

“Nor have you,” Aizawa replied, opening his eyes and twisting the top off of the eye drops. “You’re not putting Christmas decorations up in my flat this year again by the way,”

 

“Why not!” 

 

“Stupid Western culture,” Aizawa snapped, focusing his attention back on the teen. “His temperature isn’t coming down,” he added, concerned, pulling some of the blankets off of him. 

 

“Want me to turn the heating off?” Midnight asked.

 

“Yeah,” Aizawa replied, taking back control of Todoroki’s quirk.

 

“On it,” Midnight smiled. “Also, I’m 100% buying you a tree,”

 

“You’re not,”

 

“I am,”

 

“It’ll die,”

 

“It’s a tree that’s been cut from the trunk Shota. It’s already dead,”

 

Aizawa gave up.

 

—

 

Fifteen minutes passed and after eleven breaks, Aizawa’s energy was all but gone. He let go of the control on the boy and rubbed his eyes. 

 

“Todoroki,” he prompted, shaking the boy’s shoulder. “Todoroki, you need to wake up,”

 

It took a while but the boy eventually murmured, pulling himself out of his slumber and opening one eye. 

 

“Mmhmm?”

 

“Take control of your quirk,” Aizawa commanded softly. Todoroki blinked at him, focusing on bringing his body temperature to a level head. “You can’t go back to sleep yet,” he continued. “You’ll kill yourself,”

 

“I wake up on my own before it gets too bad,” Torokoki mumbled. 

 

Aizawa breathed in deeply. 

 

“Well you’re not on your own,” he replied. “How do you feel?”

 

Todoroki shrugged tiredly. Shrugging, as Aizawa was quickly learning, seemed to be code for ‘really not okay’.

 

“You look awful,” Aizawa remarked. 

 

“So do you,” Todoroki replied causing Midnight to laugh from the across the room. “Midnight?” he murmured. 

 

“Heard you weren’t feeling well,” she smiled, popping her head over her chair.

 

“You should wear a mask as well,” Todoroki pointed at his homeroom teacher, still feverish, his voice a beginning to rise in pitch. “I don’t want you getting ill because of me,”

 

“I won’t,” Aizawa tried to reassure him, aware he may be fighting a losing battle. “It’d be too late now anyway,” 

 

That was the wrong thing to say. Todoroki’s eyes widened as he forced his body to move, pushing himself off of the sofa but crashing into the coffee table at the same time.

 

“Woah kid, where do you think you’re going?” Aizawa asked, Midnight looking up from the papers. 

 

“I need to… you can’t get ill as well… it’d be bad-“

 

“Todoroki,”

 

“I’d be bad,”

 

“Stop it. You’re not bad,”

 

“I don’t…” Todoroki started, half standing, half wavering. 

 

“Come on now,” Aizawa said, standing himself and placing both hands on the boy's shoulders. Again, he had to pull away without warning, frost creeping past his fingertips. 

 

“Shota?” Midnight asked as she heard her friend gasp out loud. 

 

“My dad…” Todoroki continued to whine. 

 

“Your dad isn’t here,” Aizawa reassured him but Todoroki was lost to the fever.

 

“He’s going to be mad,”

 

“No, he’s not,”

 

Aizawa was at a bit of a loss. Todoroki was clawing his way forward, desperately and incoherently trying to move his homeroom teacher out of the way. Aizawa was strong enough to hold the teenager back but Todoroki’s hands were burning, one hot, one cold and Aizawa’s eyes were still red raw.

 

“Todoroki calm down,”

 

“I don’t want to train,”

 

“And you don’t have to, just please lie down,”

 

Todoroki continued to shake his head, his eyes darting.

 

“Midnight, a little help here?” Aizawa asked through gritted teeth. 

 

“Hold your breath,” the pro commanded as she came forward, unleashing her quirk. Todoroki was out cold in two seconds, his body luckily falling back onto the sofa, giving Aizawa just enough time to catch him, a blanket wrapped around one forearm, protecting his bare skin. “Jesus,” he grumbled.

 

“Shouldn’t Endeavor really be here? Or at least informed?” Midnight asked.

 

“I don’t trust that man to look after a hamster,” Aizawa growled. “Wasn’t the plan to wake him up?”

 

“It's fine. Seems as if my quirk is acting more like a sedative than a sleeping pill. His quirks not playing up,” she replied.

 

Midnight was right. Todoroki was calm once more, the color on his face an evener tone and the sweat on his forehead fading.

 

“Thank you,” he muttered, yawning. 

 

“Quite alright,” Midnight replied. “Do you want a drink? Coffee?”

 

“Please,” he asked. 

 

“Okay, where’s your mug?”

 

“My mug?”

 

Midnight turned on Aizawa her look cold.

 

“Shots Aizawa, please do not tell me you haven’t drunk anything yet today?”

 

Aizawa didn’t answer.

 

“What about food?”

 

Still no answer.

 

“Ow!’ Aizawa cried, as he felt a hand to the back of his head.

 

“It’s nearly THREE in the AFTERNOON! How can you agree to look after a fifteen-year-old when you can’t look after yourself? HUH?! You act like you’re still at UA, living in dorms, lounging in clothes that haven’t been washed for days, not eating properly, no wonder you’re so damn skinny! No one is going to want to be your girlfriend whilst you look like this Shota, that’s for sure! First things first-“

 

“Please stop talking,” Aizawa complained. “My head hurts,”

 

“First things first,” Midnight continued, dropping the volume every so slightly and prodding her friend in the chest. “To be a pro-hero you need to take care of yourself before others or you won’t make it. No wonder your head hurts, you’ve been overusing your quirk and you’re probably dehydrated,”

 

“I know how to be a hero,”

 

“Hmmm, only just,”

 

“Oi, I still rank higher than you,” Aizawa bit back with a smirk.

 

“Only on captures, not popularity,” Midnight quipped. “Sit down and finish marking, I’m going to make you some proper food,”

 

“You don’t have to do that,”

 

“I know,” Midnight sighed. “But I have an hour before I should get ready for evening patrol and I might as well eat here as well,”

 

“You’re going to be shattered tomorrow,” Aizawa remarked. 

 

“Yes I’m going to feel as tired as you look,” Midnight pouted, earning a pointed look off of her childhood friend. “Oi, and no giving anyone lower than an E,”

 

“But that’s half the fun,” Aizawa muttered, pulling the blankets back over the sleeping Todoroki. 

 

“Do you need help getting a spare futon out of the cupboard?” Midnight asked, ignoring him and rifling through the cupboards.

 

“What for?” Aizawa asked. 

 

“You can’t let the boy sleep on the sofa through the evening as well,” Midnight scolded. “You can drag his futon from his room and I’ll get the spare one. Then you can both sleep in here,”

 

“Why?”

 

“Don’t give me that Shota. I can see it in your face. You’ve already planned to sleep on the floor tonight because you’re too lazy to get something out of the cupboard,” Midnight challenged the man. He sighed instead turning back to the mark sheet in front of him.

 

“Oi! Is that an ‘F’ I see you writing?” she asked.

 

“No,” Aizawa lied, twisting his pencil over to the eraser.

 

—

 

Todoroki woke up and nearly whined with the pain. His whole body ached.

He tried to recall the events from yesterday and failed miserably. He remembered Aizawa coming home and sitting on the sofa with him. He remembered throwing up. Was Midnight there? He stopped trying to think, the light streaming in from the windows, hurting his eyes. Feeling around his surroundings he was surprised to find that he was laying on his futon. In the common area. He turned over to his side, trying to get his bearings. Instead, he came face to face with a bucket, painkillers, his phone and a note. 

 

The teen stuck his hand out and wearily grabbed the piece of paper, accidentally screwing it up in his hand. Pulling his other arm from underneath him he unwrapped it, letting his eyes focus. 

 

Todoroki,

 

Gone to the meeting. Be back around lunch. DRINK THE WATER! I found you a straw. And phone me if you need me, my phone is on loud.

I have told Endeavor you’re staying to do extra training with me and Nezu next week so don’t worry about getting up or packing. You’re staying here.

 

Remember, phone me if you need me, 

Aizawa

 

Todoroki re-read the note and flopped back onto the blankets. 

 

Knowing that he didn’t have to get up, didn’t have to train, didn’t have to do work or be productive, that no one was on his back, someone believed he was ill…

 

It felt nice. 

 

Comforting. 

 

The boy closed his eyes with a shiver, letting the ache in his body travel to the back of his head. He would drink the water in a bit. 

 

For now, he could just rest.

Notes:

So common chapter notes wayyyy,

Both Aizawa and Midnight defo got the flu after this. Neither of them told Todoroki however, to stop the boy from feeling guilty.

Aizawa sleeping beside Iida's bed is actually a reference to another fic of mine called An Unwelcome Doorstep. Cheeky plug or what? XD

Also Aizawa and Midnight's friendship I based of my own friendships with my closest guys, I hope you guys thought it was in-character ahhh x

Chapter 12: Concert

Summary:

The one where Aizawa gets dragged to a rock concert :)

Notes:

Hey guys, a little end of week fluff for you :) Jiro is so underrated omg I watched a load of clips online of her before writing this and oh I fell for her all over again the sweetheart.

Also, a little ErasureMic friendship backstory because I know that makes you guys happy haha.

Eternally grateful for you all - happy readingggg x

“Aizawa-Sensei…”

 

Aizawa looked up from his laptop and marking to see the faces of Yaoyoruzu, Uraraka and Asui looking down at him. It was just after dinner on a Tuesday evening and nearly all of the students had retired to their dorms. Aizawa had hoped for a little peace and quiet before he had to go out on patrol.

 

Seemingly not.

 

“Yes?” he asked as the girls looked among each other, seemingly deciding who should speak?” “What have you done?” he tried asking.

 

“Oh, no nothing,” Yaoyoruzu replied quickly. “We were just wondering…” she looked across at Uraraka. 

 

“Yes, we were just wondering, it’s Jiro’s birthday next week and Yaoyoruzu noticed that tickets to her favorite band come out tomorrow morning and we were wondering if we could buy them to go,” she said, speaking quickly, twisting her thumb between her forefingers. 

 

“Right,” Aizawa said, processing what the girl had just said. “What’s that got to do with me?”

 

“Well the concert tickets come out tomorrow morning during homeroom,” Asui started. 

 

“Oh yeah,” Uraraka commented, nodding. 

 

“So time off,” Aizawa replied, looking back down at his work. 

 

“Also…” Asui trailed. 

 

“What..?” Aizawa asked, one eyebrow raised. 

 

“We need someone over the age of eighteen to come with,” Asui continued. “Otherwise we won’t be allowed in,” 

 

“Right…” Aizawa prompted.

 

“Well Yaoyrozu’s parents are abroad, Uraraka’s parents can’t afford the trip and my parents would need to get a babysitter, besides the loud music would hurt my dad’s ears, he’s a full animal-human hybrid and so-“

 

“You want me to come to the concert with you?” Aizawa guessed, breaking Asui off mid-flow. The young teenager looked somewhat put out by being interrupted by her teacher but nodded all the same. “What’s the band called..?” 

 

“Death,” Yaoyoruzu replied. 

 

“That’s an awful name,” Aizawa muttered before sighing, opening a new tab and googling the concert. “How much are the tickets?” 

 

“Oh I can get them on discount because of my dad,” Yaoyoruzu replied quickly. “It’s only the travel really,”

 

“I can cover that,” Aizawa sighed, looking at the webpage.

 

“Is that a yes?” Uraraka asked hopefully. 

 

“Yes. It’s a yes,” Aizawa said, watching the faces of his students burst into life. “What’s the exact date?” 

 

“The 1st,” Yaoyoruzu smiled. “But we’re going to surprise her with the tickets in the morning,”

 

“Okay,” Aizawa nodded, making a mental note in his head. “Give me all the details closer to the time, I won’t remember them now,”

 

“Thank you Aizawa-Sensei!” the girls clamored.

 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s alright,” Aizawa growled, waving them away. “No go to bed or do some work or something,”

 

It was only one night. And as much as Death sounded like the world worst band, it wasn’t like he would have to get involved. 

 

Right?

 

—

 

“Oh my God, it's sick Kaminari!” Jiro cried, blushing, as she unwrapped her present from him. 

 

It was the Saturday morning homeroom and the whole of 1A was in the common area having a birthday breakfast for Jiro. Aizawa had let them, it was a good excuse for not having a lesson plan. The young hero-in-training was trying on her new ear muffs gleefully.

 

“Yeah, I kinda thought you’d be into them cause they have spaces for your jacks so you don’t have to have your ears out when you’re trying to listen to music in the winter,” Kaminari was explaining as he was hit with a short hug from the girl.

 

“They’re insane!”

 

“Oh… well, you’re welcome!” Kaminari grinned back, surprised that his friend had hugged him. Jiro wasn’t really one for too much physical contact but the teen was so excited she could have been buzzing. 

 

“Guys this is too much!” she explained as Iida placed a plate of birthday pancakes in front of her, a tradition in Height’s Alliance. 

 

“Not at all!” Iida shook his head. “You always do your utmost to ensure that we have wonderful birthdays so it is up to us to return the favor,”

 

“Well, thanks,” Jiro smiled, knowing not to hug Iida, the surprise wouldn’t be welcomed. 

 

Aizawa watched on from the kitchen, a cup of coffee in hand. He wasn’t a birthday person at all but it was… nice seeing the whole of his class get on. He didn’t sing ‘Happy Birthday’ with them though. Then again, neither did Bakugou.

 

“Right! Your final present!” Uraraka beamed as she approached her friend. “This is from all the girls,”

 

“Ah, dudes thank you!” Jiro cried, a mouthful of pancakes muffling her gratitude.

 

“Open it! Open it!” Hagakura shouted as Jiro wiped her hands to take the envelope and slide it open. She took one look at it... 

 

And screamed.

 

“YOU DIDN’T?!” 

 

Aizawa rubbed his now broken ears to watch as Jiro shot up, coming over to her best friends who were nodding with grins on their faces.

 

“But how?! These were sold out like instantly! And my parents weren’t free to take me-!“

 

“We know,” Yaoyoruzu said. “We found someone else to take us,”

 

Aizawa was in the middle of a swig of coffee when he felt someone crash into him, causing him to choke on his mouthful as he fumbled to put the cup down.

 

“Thank you Aizawa-Sensei!”

 

“That’s oka-“ Aizawa started before heaving into an almighty coughing fit, the coffee hitting his windpipe.

 

“Oh my God I’m so sorry,” Jiro started backing off as Aizawa shoo’ed her away. 

 

“It’s fine,” he grumbled, recovered. “Just don’t expect me to have as much enthusiasm as you do,”

 

“I won’t!” Jiro cheered, not exactly the response Aizawa was after. “You’re cool,” she smiled bashfully, becoming self-conscious once more. “This is the best birthday!”

 

“Alright, now make it the best birthday with perfect attendance in classes,” Aizawa replied, pushing his student in the direction of the door. “If you haven’t killed yourself in Home Ec I’ll see you at quarter past three,”

 

There were a chorus of ‘yes Sensei’s’, Iida’s notorious hand movements and the shoving of pancakes down students throats before they were out of the door leaving Aizawa in much-needed peace.

 

He was going back to bed so he could try and forget just what laid in wait for him that evening.

 

—

 

Aizawa didn’t realise just how much preparation went into getting ready for a concert.

 

The four of them had to leave at six to make the arena for seven and it was only just gone four but somehow there was already panicking.

 

“I look ridiculous,”

 

“Kyoka you’ve never looked ridiculous a day in your life,” Yaoyoruzu scolded. The girls had been trying to get ready, Asui and Momo trying to do up Jiro’s hair.

 

“My hair’s too short,” Jiro continued to complain, pulling it out of the loose bun it had been put into. 

 

“No!” Asui cried but she was too late to save her handiwork.

 

“The only person who really looks good with a bun is Aizawa,” Jiro finished, combing her hair through her hands.

 

Aizawa almost wished he hadn’t heard that.

 

“I just want it down,” she finished, peering at herself in the mirror,”

 

“I could grab my hair straighteners if you wanted?” Uraraka offered and Jiro nodded gratefully.

 

“What are you guys wearing?” Asui asked as she sat down on Momo’s bed.

 

“Is it cold out?” Aizawa heard Uraraka ask. 

 

“Whatever the weather it won’t be cold inside the arena,” Yaoyorouzu pointed out.

 

“You can wear some of my band t-shirts,” Jiro offered shyly pushing a bang out of her face.

 

“Okay,” Momo smiled, looking at Asui and Uraraka who nodded back.

 

Aizawa just managed to step out of the way before the door opened.

 

“Oh. Aizawa-Sensei,” Jiro muttered.

 

“I was wondering-“

 

“Did you want a t-shirt as well?” Jiro interrupted him. “I have oversized ones,”

 

“What?”

 

“Oh! Yes!” Uraraka cried, Yaoyorozu and Asui cracking a smile behind her.

 

“I don’t care,” Aizawa settled on before being dragged down the corridor.

 

“This is going to be funny,” Asui commented. Aizawa gave her a half-hearted glare. 

 

“What were you wondering Sensei?” Jiro asked as she opened the door to her own room and lightly kicked a bongo out of the way to let the five of them in.

 

“Did you want to eat before we go or did you want to go half an hour earlier and find somewhere to eat?” he asked, standing in the doorway. “It’s on me,” he added, noticing the girls intake of breath.

 

“I- we couldn’t,” Jiro stuttered.

 

“The question was did you want to,” Aizawa repeated. “There’s a good ramen shop just one stop away,”

 

“Well…” Jiro started, looking down at her feet before nodding. “If that’s okay with you,” 

 

“It’s fine,” Aizawa reassured her. “We need to leave in about an hour then,”

 

“Yes Sensei!” the girls chorused as Jiro dived into her wardrobe, producing a black t-shirt.

 

“Here you go Aizawa-Sensei,” she smiled, handing her teacher the top. It’s large on me so it should be baggy on you.

 

Aizawa took it and opened it up, looking and the logo (a plain death kanji character) with the band name (yes it really was ‘death’) written in what was assumably English below. 

 

“Thank you,” he muttered, wondering if he could afford to stick a coat on over the top.

 

“Oh and you need this on your eyeline,” Jiro added, grabbing some eyeliner from her desk.

 

“No,”

 

No way in hell would he-

 

—

 

“This is our stop,” Aizawa grumbled, trying to look down so as to avoid eye contact with another living soul. 

 

Why wouldn’t make up come off in water? What was the point of that?

 

The girls clammered excitedly collecting their purses. They were all also wearing black eyeliner and wearing ‘Death’ t-shirts. At least they weren’t alone, approximately half the train looked the same, all chatting excitedly and taking photos. Aizawa wondered what he’d gotten himself into.

 

The five left the train and Aizawa pulled them into the ramen shop, guiding them to a table and letting the waiter fetch some menus. He’d looked at Aizawa with a smirk as he’d fetched their drink orders but Aizawa’s glare pegged him down a notch with surprising speed. The girls hadn’t noticed, they were looking at pictures of Yaoyorozu’s second house near Shirakawa-go. 

 

“Does it snow like that every year?” Uraraka was asking as Momo was flicking through pictures of her family sledding. 

 

“Usually, although it’s not been snowing around Christmas much lately, usually January,” she commented handing Asui the phone so she could take a closer look.

 

“I don’t usually go places that cold, ribbit,” Asui smiled. “But it looks so pretty,”

 

“It looks so chill Momo,” Jiro added before looking up. “Like literally,”

 

“You’ll have to come this winter,” Yaoyorozu beamed. “I want to invite all the girls, maybe some of the boys as well,”

 

“Ohhh who were you thinking?” Asui smiled.

 

“Todoroki?” Yaoyorozu asked. “His Christmas’s seem…” 

 

She trailed off, looking towards Aizawa who pretended to be very interested in his coffee.

 

“Not relaxing…” she finally decided.

 

“Yeah, his dad and him train like constantly don’t they?” Jiro said, Momo giving her a pointed look and nodding towards their homeroom teacher.

 

“Well it pays off,” Asui added, steering the conversation.

 

“Exactly! He’s insane in combat!” Uraraka cried. “We could invite Midoryia and Iida as well!”

 

“Yeah and Kaminari,” Jiro grinned. 

 

“I’ll have to ask my parents but I think a winter meet up is a brilliant idea,” Yaoyorozu beamed. “I’ve never really had many friends round before and especially not at Shirakawa-go,”

 

“Let’s do it!” Uraraka cried once more, nearly knocking over the waiter who came back to take their orders. 

 

“Get what you want,” Aizawa piped up, reaching over to cover prices on Uraraka’s menu. “Regardless of the money,” 

 

“Thank you Aizawa-Sensei,” Uraraka smiled. 

 

“I’ll just expense it,” Aizawa waved her away. He really had no idea if UA would let him expense a meal out like this but he didn’t really care. It was nice. Did it count as ‘getting the gossip’? 

 

If it was true, he was going to kill Mineta.

 

“How about you Aizawa?” Asui dragged him into the conversation. 

 

“How about me what?” he asked in his usual monotone. The girls giggled.

 

“Have you ever been to a concert before?” she asked, the conversation taking a 180.

 

“Being friends with Mic is like being at a concert full time,” he quipped back. The girls laughed harder. Aizawa was suprised. He wasn't usually funny.

 

“Could Mic not control his quirk before?” Yaoyorozu asked inquisitively. 

 

“He said he used to forget to control it when he got excited,” Jiro commented, taking a swig of her coke.

 

“Yeah which was a lot,” Aizawa replied, settling his own coffee down. “I think he always thought that I needed to be more enthusiastic for some reason, so he would overcompensate,”

 

“Were you in the same homeroom?” Uraraka asked.

 

“Sat next to each other,” Aizawa nodded. 

 

“That’s so cool!” Jiro smiled. “Did you get hired by the same agency?”

 

“No completely different ones,” Aizawa sighed, realising he would have to really start making conversation. “Mic went over to the States and trained where All Might used to train actually,”

 

Aizawa watched the girl's mouths drop open with a smirk. It was fun impressing them with his best mates achievements. “Not for as long, however,” he continued. “His quirk is more useful over in Japan where there’s less noise pollution. Plus, with the saturation of heroes, he wanted to start up his own secondary career,”

 

“Teaching?” Yaoyorozu asked.

 

“Radio presenting,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Oh yeah I’ve heard his stuff,” Jiro commented. “Not my music but he’s really easy to listen to,”

 

“How did you get to work at UA then?” Asui asked.

 

“We both got approached by Nezu,” Aizawa continued as five steaming bowls of ramen were brought over to the table. “Mic was drunk so he said yes for the both of us on the spot,” 

 

“Mic was drunk?” Yaoyorozu laughed.

 

“It was the middle of the night. He’d been drinking, I was working,”

 

“How did Principle Nezu know about your quirks abilities though?” Asui asked, confused as she stirred her ramen. “I can understand for you Sensei but not Mic, ribbit,”

 

“Oh, he was singing,” 

 

The girls giggled again and Aizawa felt a smirk cross his lips. 

 

“Don’t tell anyone I told you that,” he added as the five tucked into their meal. 

 

He was confident they would but it didn’t matter. At the end of the day, it was only embarrassing Hizashi and Aizawa hardly ever got to indulge in that anymore.

 

—

 

“Could you not afford seats?” Aizawa growled as he shoved himself between his students and a teenage couple who looked like they’d never heard of the phrase PDA in their life. The arena was packed, fans crowding around the stage. Most of the fans were older than his students but Aizawa wasn’t surprised that Jiro’s music tastes matched her level of maturity. 

 

“These tickets were more expensive if I’m being honest,” Yaoyorozu smiled. 

 

“Why?” Aizawa growled. 

 

“Because they’re so close to the stage!” Jiro grinned, craning her head so she could see. She was so excited she hadn’t noticed Aizawa’s dripping sarcasm. 

 

“Right,” he muttered. Just as he did, PDA guy shoved into him, spilling his drink down Aizawa’s side.

 

“Oh sorry man!” he cried with a grin before turning back to his girlfriend. Or who Aizawa hoped was his girlfriend.

 

There were rare occasions that Aizawa wished he was All Might. 

 

—

 

Death was…

 

Awful.

 

Well, it lived up to its name at least. All the band members looked as if they couldn’t care less, although apparently, that was a ‘thing’ because the members of the crowd looked as if they would sell their souls for the lead singer. 

 

Aizawa would rather sell his soul to a devil. 

 

Looking back at his students he could tell that the music wasn’t exactly any of their thing either, bar Jiro. Aizawa had brought Asui some noise protective headphones and the teenager had them rammed on her head, instead, feeling the beat of the bass. Yaoyorozu was watching Jiro intently, trying to copy the words to the lyrics, grabbing onto the catchy chorus and loosing everywhere else. Uraraka was just enjoying the atmosphere, having never been to a concert before. They were all happy that their friend was happy, jumping and dancing along as best they could. 

 

There was one moment where Asui nudged Aizawa’s arm and when he’d looked down she’d pointed to her own face, smiling. Getting the hint, Aizawa tried his hardest to smile back, only earning a frantic shaking of the head from the frog girl and the mouthing of the phrase ‘too scary’?

 

PDA couple hadn’t stopped making out. 

 

Aizawa wondered if maybe they’d accidentally knotted their tongues or something. 

 

Coming to the last set and the whole crowd seemed to shift forward as if they were expecting something big to happen. Aizawa felt himself lurch wondering whether his safest option would be to move closer to his students or to maybe accidentally get into a threesome. 

 

“THEY’RE GOING TO PLAY MY FAVE SONG!” Jiro screamed over the crowd, her voice growing horse. 

 

“WHICH IS?” Uraraka yelled back.

 

“DYING!” Jiro replied.

 

Of course it was. 

 

Just as the intro played and the crowd erupted into screams a guy pushed his way in front of them, his quirk leaving him with a long neck that was stretching upwards and blocking their view. Aizawa was almost grateful for the visual relief but Jiro looked almost panicked, trying to jump up to grab a glimpse as the song began. 

 

Aizawa watched her and sighed. 

 

He hated Death. He hated concerts. He hated PDA couple. 

 

But he couldn’t help but like his students.

 

He bent over and grabbed Jiro’s shoulder speaking into her ear so he could be heard over the screams. 

 

“Climb onto my shoulders,” 

 

“WHAT?” Jiro asked, still shouting.

 

“CLIMB ON,” Aizawa shouted back, kneeling down. There was a second of his students gaping at him but Jiro didn’t need to ask if he was sure this time. She pushed her way behind him and lifted her legs across his shoulders, balancing herself so that he could stand up. Jiro was surprisingly well built, her thighs blocking Aizawa’s ears luckily inhibiting his ability to hear anything but her screams of joy. He focused on keeping her steady as she threw her arms up in the air through the chorus. 

 

But she was happy. And in Aizawa’s books that was all that mattered. 

 

—

 

The train back wasn’t as crowded as the arena granted but Aizawa still found himself pushed against the window, all the teenagers leant around him fast asleep. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei,” Jiro whispered from opposite him. She unplugged one earphone from the new Death album she’d brought from the merch stand. 

 

It was called ‘Dead’. 

 

Obviously. 

 

“Yes?” he replied quietly. 

 

“I don’t want to seem rude but why did you agree to come tonight?” she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

 

“I don’t know,” he joked but Jiro looked down at the floor. “I got asked to,” he replied.

 

“But you didn’t have to say yes,” Jiro pointed out. 

 

I can’t not say no to you damn kids. 

 

“I think Mic would have been better than me,” Aizawa replied softly. 

 

“No I’m glad you came,” Jiro was quick to reply before going red. “I mean. It was cool,” 

 

“I’m glad I can be cool,” he replied with a smirk. 

 

“You are Aizawa-Sensei,” Jiro smiled as she elongated one earphone. “Did you want to listen as well?”

 

“Absolutely not,” Aizawa replied. 

Notes:

THERE'S A PART 2 IN THE COMMENTS WRITTEN BY LINDA !!!
(I'm crying in a club somewhere thank you so much for this. The club is a tea drinking club as well btw cause I hate real clubs)

Chapter 13: Phone Calls

Summary:

Aizawa's work phone was for emergencies only.

So Aizawa knew it was going to be a troublesome year group when he’d already been phoned five times by class 1A in the first year...

Notes:

Hi guys! Hope you're all having an amazing morning/afternoon/evening wherever you are :)
I think because I basically write this fic 6 out of 7 days a week haha there are some chapters where my personality really comes through and this is one of those chapters whoops.
But regardless I hope you enjoy this chapter - I love my bby girls <3

OH AND I have a drawing (I can’t draw) of Uraraka in Aizawa’s oversized gym clothes but AO3 won’t let me attach it to this chapter haha lol faillllll

Aizawa had two phones. Well used to.

 

UA gave him a phone as soon as he was employed as a teacher. It wasn’t a ‘fashionable’ handset by all means. Something that could take the brunt of hero work and would withstand a fall from a 30ft building. 

 

A Nokia basically. 

 

It was untraceable, however, even those with a quirk like Kaminari’s couldn’t infiltrate it. UA had made sure that anyone who tried to hop onto his network would fail miserably, their information sent straight to UA. This was also to help find the traitor. Nezu oversaw all communications personally and although no evidence had been found yet, he could hear into all conversations. 

 

So when someone was in trouble, if Nezu was listening in, backup could be there in minutes. 

 

Also, it had to be noted that every phone number that came up was also hidden. To prevent it getting into the wrong hands. It was also given location software and a code cracker. 

 

It was the OP Nokia. 

 

Every teacher had every teacher's number and was allowed to give the number out to anyone who was affiliated with UA and three personal contacts. 

 

Aizawa had chosen the deputy inspector on night shifts just in case of miscellaneous crime, one ex-student of his and his mum. 

 

She liked to call him on Sundays. 

 

Otherwise, the whole of his class had his number as well as Miro and Eri. 

 

Aizawa also had once had a personal phone. But that one just used to reside in his flat, out of charge and collecting dust.

 

The rule for his Nokia, however, was that NO ONE was allowed to phone him unless it was an emergency. Apart from his two best mates, however, who’d call him regardless. Which was annoying because it meant that Hizashi and Nemuri always knew he’d have to answer. 

 

It also meant that Aizawa knew it was going to be a troublesome year group when he’d already been phoned five times by class 1A in the first year...

 

—

 

The first time was way back in the first term. The UA dorms hadn’t been erected yet and the students were still expected to go home every evening or find accommodation elsewhere. Aizawa also had to make the trek back to his own flat. 

 

Looking back now, he didn’t know how he’d managed it all those years. 

 

At least he’d had a car back then. The damage caused by USJ meant he was still waiting to take another driving assessment. 

 

Stupid Tomura. Stupid nerve damage. 

 

Not that anyone knew about that of course. 

 

Anyway, it’d been one Tuesday night in the first term and Aizawa’s phone had gone off halfway through dinner. He’d scrambled over the kitchen side, knocking over cutlery and various ingredients to catch the vibrating handset before it had toppled off the side of the cabinet. 

 

Breathlessly he’d answered. 

 

“Hello?”

 

No revelation of his identity until he knew who was calling. 

 

There was the sound of rain in the background, a storm brewing over the crackle of the line and a short pause before. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei?”

 

“Uraraka,” the pro breathed. “What’s happened? Are you okay?” 

 

“Kinda,” the voice replied awkwardly. “I’m sorry this isn’t an emergency I know…”

 

Aizawa could hear the sound of her teeth chattering.

 

“Where are you?” he asked, trying to get a grip on the situation.

 

“I’ve locked myself out,”  came the shaky reply.

 

“Of what? Your house?” 

 

“Yeah,” Uraraka replied, her voice getting further away from the speaker. “My parents are out and my phones on 4%. I’m so sorry,” 

 

Aizawa sighed. 

 

“Who lives close?” 

 

Another pause. 

 

“You,”

 

Oh. Of course. 

 

Uraraka was a sweet girl, sometimes so sweet you forgot how resourceful she was. A phone on 4% would give her one phone call. There’d be no point her phoning her parents if they were out and too reckless to call her friends, it was only six weeks into the first year so no one was particularly close enough yet. 

 

“So you want me to come get you?” Aizawa asked looking at the clock which read a respectful half six. 

 

“Well I don’t want to put you out of your way, my parents should be back at ten so I could always...” Uraraka trailed off realising. 

 

“Where are you kid?” Aizawa asked as Uraraka rattled off the street name. She was only eight blocks away. “I’ll be ten minutes,” he confirmed. Uraraka was halfway through her ‘thank you’s’ as the line went dead. 

 

Her phone was obviously not built like an OP Nokia. Regardless, he needed to go. 

 

Not that he was protective over his class. 

 

He’d only known them six weeks. 

 

But still. 

 

Grabbing his car keys he turned the gas off, leaving his dinner half cooked and headed out of the door. Jesus, it was raining. Within the thirty seconds it took for him to get from his flat building to his car, Aizawa’s hair was soaked, dripping to the sides of his head, his clothes no better. 

 

As he approached what was presumably Uraraka’s flats he saw his student was in the same situation, her clothes sticking to her and shivering under the mellow streetlight. He pulled up alongside her and got out of the car. 

 

“Hop in,” he instructed gruffly, picking up her school bag. The teen nodded gratefully before dashing round to the passenger side. 

 

Dumping her belongings in the boot, he got back in the car and was surprised to see in her hands a phone no better than his own, a crappy ‘my first phone’ kind of handset, completely sodden. 

 

“Sorry,” she apologised meekly, her hair dripping into her lap. “I didn’t mean to inconvenience you,” 

 

“It’s fine you chose the right person to call,” Aizawa replied in his usual monotone as he headed back to his. He hardly knew the girl yet but she was seemingly a good student. Too nice maybe and without her maybe the dreaded Midoriya may have not been his damn problem but she had her head screwed on. Most of the time. 

 

The ride back was short and Aizawa helped the young teen get her belongings out of the car before offering her a shower. She shook her head profusely before Aizawa insisted, wisely pointing out that if she didn’t get her temperature up she could get a cold or worse. 

 

Uraraka didn’t argue with his glare and gratefully took the spare towel and clothes. As she went, Aizawa put an extra handful of soba into the pan and got out an extra bowl for the girl. 

 

She returned ten minutes later, hoisting up a pair of Aizawa’s sweatpants, engulfed in one of his t-shirts. 

 

“Your parents are coming home at ten yes?” Aizawa asked as he stirred. 

 

“Yes,” Uraraka replied under the towel. 

 

“Okay good, I have to be on patrol by quarter past so I’ll drop you home,” he replied as Uraraka looked up at him, eye’s wide.

 

“You do hero work as well as teach?” she asked in awe. 

 

“Yeah, no point being a pro if I can’t save people,” he muttered as he plated up.

 

“Wow…” Uraraka breathed and Aizawa fought the urge to grin. He hadn’t ‘bonded’ with his class yet. If that was even a thing. In fact, this was potentially the first time any of his new students had seen him out of his hero wear. 

 

“Did you want to put your phone on charge?” he asked as Uraraka nodded gratefully and placed the towel on the back of the chair, heading towards her bag. There was a small silence before. “No! No…”

 

Aizawa looked up to see the girl cradling her phone in her hands, her eyes welling up slightly. He strode over to her to find her phone completely water damaged, liquid seeping behind the screen and one of the keys lodged. 

 

“Give it here,” he said shortly and inspected the damage. He quickly made his way back to the kitchen and pulled out another bowl filling it with rice and shoving Uraraka’s phone to the bottom. “Give it a few hours and it should turn back on,” he explained. “Sit down, laundry baskets in the bathroom,” he nodded to the towel and she rushed off, muttering more thank you’s in her wake. 

 

She came back and sat down at the table as Aizawa placed a bowl of soba in front of her. She looked at it as if it was gold.

 

“Eat,” he muttered. “Before it gets cold,”

 

The girl wolfed it down. 

 

Something in the back of Aizawa’s mind told him to look at her file the next day. The kid didn’t seem that well off. 

 

“Good?” he smirked, watching her come up for breath.

 

“Sensei it’s amazing!” she cried, punching the air.

 

Aizawa grunted in response but felt a touch of pride for his handiwork. 

 

“You can get on with your homework afterward,” he told her as she nodded quickly with a smile.

 

The kid behaved herself for the remainder of the three hours they spent together. She asked Aizawa for the help on the maths homework and not to his surprise, he had no idea what it meant either. They’d opted for looking it up on the internet, something which Uraraka didn’t have at home and after that Aizawa left her to text Iida. The class rep seemed to have it covered. 

 

After that Aizawa offered the TV remote to her but she shook her head, asking if she could look at his bookcase instead. The pro agreed if not a little bewildered at the suggestion and she came back a few minutes later with an old book of folk tales, turning each page with awe to look at the illustrations. Aizawa found himself looking over her shoulder at times, he hadn’t read the book since he was a child and slowly but surely he found himself creeping closer until he was sat beside his student reading The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter. They got to the part when Princess Kaguya returned to the moon when Uraraka looked up at her homeroom teacher. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei,”

 

“Yes Uraraka,”

 

“Thank you for picking me up,”

 

Aizawa paused for a second, taken aback by the suddenness of the thank you.

 

“It’s fine,” he eventually replied. Uraraka smiled at this and continued to read the story, this time shifting it towards the pro so he had a better view. 

 

By the time they’d finished, the wind was howling outside, the rain threatening to batter the window panes down.

 

Aizawa was lucky that the power was still on. He looked at his phone, the time reading a grateful 9:33pm.

 

He was almost a little thankful. Kid’s for the whole day and now a kid for the evening. He’d had enough of teenagers. 

 

“I need to get ready,” he stated as he got up. “You should collect your stuff,”

 

“Yes Aizawa-Sensei,” Uraraka replied, closing the book which Aizawa carefully took from her. “Thank you for letting me read,”

 

“That’s alright,” he replied with a sigh, bringing it with him to his room and placing it on the side instead of the bookcase. He might pick off where they’d left in the twilight hours before teaching.

 

He got changed quickly and after grabbing his capture weapon from the radiator and his license from the bedside table, he headed back out to the living room where Uraraka was crouched by the kitchen work surface, holding her phone.

 

“It still isn’t working Sensei,” she explained worriedly. 

 

Aizawa took the phone from her and inspected it again. Yeah, the phone was a goner. Aizawa was surprised it had lasted that long at all, it looked at least a decade old. 

 

“I think you’ll have to get a new one,” he replied, handing it back.

 

The look on Uraraka’s face told him she defiantly wasn’t in the position to do that. 

 

Aizawa racked his brains and sighed. 

 

“Hold on,” 

 

Uraraka stayed put as the pro wondered back into his room and opened up the drawer on the bedside table. He grabbed what he needed and headed back.

 

“Here you go,” he said placing his personal phone into her hands. “Swap the sim’s out, there’s a charger for it somewhere. It’s only a flip phone but it still has some life in it. Oh and it’s pink, sorry about that, blame Midnight,”

 

“But Aizawa-Sensei-“

 

“Old phone. I haven’t used it in years,” Aizawa lied. “Don’t waste time saying thank you, grab your shoes or I’ll be late for work,”

 

“Thank you Sensei,” Uraraka said anyway, bowing quickly as she swapped the sims around and grabbed the remainder of her stuff. 

 

Aizawa looked at the time.

 

10:01pm

 

Crap.

 

And it was still hailing it down. 

 

“Come on,” he instructed, throwing her the charger for his phone. He opened the door and Uraraka waited patiently beside him as he locked the door. “You’re going to have to get on my back,”

 

Uraraka faltered. 

 

“You won’t be able to keep up with my otherwise and I have to go straight from yours to patrol,” he explained as she nodded, hoisting her bags up her shoulder and grabbed onto his hero costume. “Ready?” he asked. 

 

“Yes!” Uraraka called into the wind and Aizawa jumped.

 

It was three days later that he realised his personal phone still had pictures of him, Hizashi and Nemuri on there from their UA days. 

 

And from the look of the girls face, Uraraka had already found them. 

 

Crap. 

 

— 

 

Then the most recent time was just after the first year had ended. 

 

The call woke him up, something that never seemed to happen anymore but what was more worrying was the time on the clock.

 

3:46am

 

He picked up the phone, trying to sound as wide awake as humanly possible. 

 

“Hello?”

 

“I need to ask a question,”

 

Aizawa recognized the voice immediately, sitting up in bed and flicking on his bedside light. 

 

“Where are you?” he asked, worry hinting in his voice as he reached across for his clothes, placing the phone on speaker. He could hear waves crashing in the background, an unease in his student's voice, creeping into his own. 

 

“By the beach,” came the tired reply. 

 

“Why?” Aizawa prompted as he pulled on his shoes, commanding his capture weapon around his neck. 

 

“It’s peaceful,” came the matter of fact reply. “Can you answer my question?”

 

“Okay,” 

 

Aizawa dreaded the reply. 

 

“Do you regret saving me at USJ?” 

 

He didn’t hesitate to grab his keys before heading out the door. The sound must have traveled over through the speaker. 

 

“Are you coming to the beach?” 

 

“Yes Asui,” Aizawa replied. “Just stay there,” 

 

“Okay,” 

 

There was a pause. 

 

“Will you stay on the line?”

 

“Of course,” 

 

Aizawa heard a sniff then a sigh on the other end, a crackle, as the teen passed the phone from one ear to the other. 

 

“Whereabouts on the beach are you?” the pro asked as he hoisted himself onto the rooftops. 

 

“On top of the rock that looks like a horseshoe,” Asui replied, her usual energy vacant from her tone. 

 

“Okay. Don’t move,” 

 

If he was being honest, Aizawa had been waiting for this for a fair few months. Asui wasn’t the kind of student to typically let her troubles bother her. She was the consistently rational type but it had been highlighted to him already this term that she was still troubled by USJ. 

 

Aizawa wasn’t surprised. He still had the nightmares as well. 

 

All the students had been to counseling. Some for a few weeks, mainly to appease the board but some for longer. 

 

Asui the longest. 

 

“You still there?” he asked as he flew down a stray alleyway. 

 

“Yes,” 

 

“Okay stay with me,”

 

“You’re acting like I’m going to die,” Asui commented down the phone. 

 

“Well I didn’t go all that way to save you for you to just drown yourself when the tide comes in,” Aizawa quipped. 

 

“I’m not going to drown Sensei,”

 

“Too right you’re not,”

 

There was a sense of informality between the two which was far too late into the year for Aizawa to nip in the bud. Asui knew him well enough to know when to be pally or when to respect him as her homeroom teacher, so Aizawa let it slide. Especially as they’d just worked together as pro’s during her second round internship. He could hardly start treating her like she was nothing but a student now. 

 

“How far off are you?” she asked quietly as he headed around a bend. 

 

“Two minutes,” he replied, spotting the beach in the far distance. He could already see the rock she was sat on, a single silhouette against the moonlight. He slowed his pace as he dropped down beside her so as not to take her by surprise. However, it was Asui. She would have heard him coming. 

 

“Were you not on patrol?” she asked in confirmation of his thoughts as his capture weapon retracted and he hung up the phone. 

 

“Not tonight,” he replied softly, crouching down beside her. Asui had her legs held to her chest, her eyes watery and her hair down, sticking to her wet cheeks. She was still dressed in gym wear, seemingly unfazed by the small breeze hanging around in the midnight air, one shoulder of her cardigan hanging loosely from her side. Aizawa picked the fabric up, placing it back over her and reaching over to do the buttons up at the front. “What happened?”

 

“I had a nightmare,” she replied as Aizawa got comfortable. It wasn’t cold out, it was the middle of summer after all but the tide was coming in, lapping at the rock front as  Aizawa turned back, taking to sitting beside her, ignoring the sharp shard of stone digging into his left thigh. 

 

“How bad?” he asked. There was no reply so he added. “Out of ten?”

 

“Nine,”

 

“Okay,” 

 

“Do you still get nightmares as well Sensei?” the teenager asked. Aizawa saw her look in his direction as he nodded wordlessly. “Out of ten?”

 

“Ten,”

 

“I’m sorry,”

 

“It’s not your fault,”

 

“You didn’t answer my question so I thought maybe you regretted-“

 

“Asui, don’t you dare!”

 

Aizawa turned and grabbed his student by the shoulder, his eyes bore-ing into her own as he watched fat tears spill across her cheeks. He cursed his own stupidity. 

 

“You don’t think that, do you?” he asked, trying to look for an answer somewhere in her green eyes. He saw defeat as she replied.

 

“No… I don’t,” 

 

Aizawa, still holding his student by the shoulders, bowed his head as he composed himself. The sound of the waves calming against the falling of Asui’s tears on the top of his head. 

 

“I’ll just…” Asui started as Aizawa looked back up at her, prompting her to finish the sentence hanging on the tips of her lips. “I’ll just never be able to repay you,”

 

“You don’t need to repay me,” Aizawa sighed, turning back to the water and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

 

“But you nearly died for me and you won’t be able to use your quirk the same and-“

 

“Kid,” Aizawa stopped her, letting her pause for breath as we leaned back to watch the stars peeking through grey clouds. “When All Might saved Bakugou and used the last of his quirk, do you think he shouldn’t have saved him because of the repercussions on his own body?”

 

Asui didn’t need to reply.

 

“Of course not,” Aizawa finished for her. “And didn’t Deku break his arm smashing Tomura out of the way right after? Same thing isn’t it?”

 

“I like that you call him by his hero name now, ribbit,”

 

“Tch, he’ll always be problem child to me,”

 

“And me? Am I Froppy?”

 

“No kid,” 

 

Asui looked at him confused, Aizawa smirked back. 

 

“You’ll always be the one I was proud to have saved,”

 

And with that, he let Asui break. With one arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders he let her lie gently on one side of him as they watched the Earth move around them. There was so much left unsaid, Aizawa feeling the weight of the guilt on Asui’s shoulders dissipate as she cried. The bitterness of not having an answer, never having an answer and the unanswered panic that Tomura was still out there, the near reality was still a possibility and that every day the nightmare they’d nearly escaped could come true once more. 

 

But there was no point dwelling on a future they couldn’t control.

 

“You okay?” he finally asked her. At least forty-five minutes had passed, the amber glow warming the rock's edges. Asui opened her eyes and pulled away from her teacher, the static from his capture weapon pulling her hair from him.

 

“Yes I’m okay now,” Asui replied softly, yawing 

 

Aizawa could relax, knowing she meant it. 

 

“Let’s get you home,” he replied checking his phone.

 

6:23am 

 

However; 

 

98% charge.

 

It was, after all, the OP Nokia.

 

Chapter 14: Christmas Dinner

Summary:

Aizawa hates Christmas but Hizashi and Class 1A are determined to change that :)

Notes:

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!!! I'm sorry this chapter is a late one but oh my Christmas has not left me with a moment to spare! This chapter was a little hard to do as it involved the whole class and I had to do a lot of research into the Japanese culture as most schools only just break up on the 25th! Luckily with Present Mic being an English queen, it gave me the perfect excuse to shove a little holiday happiness into this fic which (hopefully) still being culturally accurate ahhh.

I hope no matter if you celebrate Christmas or not you have a wonderful holiday and once again thank you so so much for continuing to read my rambles! :) Have a break, take some time for yo-self and most importantly eat a lot of chocolate xx

What Aizawa wanted for Christmas was a break.

 

From Christmas.

 

The stupid Western tradition dominated UA with the school deciding to ‘show it’s appreciation for other cultures’ by hosting events and special classes all through the December month.

 

Aizawa thought it was a waste of time.

 

The worst part was that the final day of the second term fell on December 25th which was, in fact, Christmas Day.

 

Boy did he know it.

 

The last day of classes was simply an elongated Homeroom class meaning that at least Aizawa could ruin the mood by throwing a pop quiz at them. But wondering into the common room the evening before and finding Hizashi piling a gigantic food shop into the kitchen with the help of half of his damn students, Aizawa realised life was never that simple.

 

“What’s going on?” he asked in his characteristic monotone.

 

“Shota!” Hizashi cried, dropping one of the carrier bags. 

 

“What’s going on?” Aizawa repeated. 

 

“We’re going to have a Christmas dinner tomorrow!” he announced, the look of glee on his face matching that of Midroyia and Uraraka’s who were next to him, holding Christmas crackers.

 

“No. We’re not,” Aizawa stated. The grins didn’t even falter. 

 

Aizawa wondered if he had the energy for this. 

 

“Since when did you feel it was suitable to gatecrash my class?” he asked as he wandered over to the groceries, poking at the boxes of eggs and flour.

 

“I don’t have a class of my own,” Hizashi smiled.

 

“Have mine,” Aizawa retorted back.

 

“I am! I’m going to join you tomorrow!”

 

“Brilliant. Then I don’t have to be here,” Aizawa muttered. 

 

“Oh come on Shota!” Hizashi moaned, poking his best friend. “Don’t you want to have a nice Christmas dinner?”

 

“Why can’t we get KFC instead?” Aizawa asked, giving Hizashi a sideways glance.

 

“What?! No!” the pro yelled, with volume.  

 

“It’s a Japanese tradition,”

 

“It’s not a Japanese tradition it’s an ‘Aizawa-is-a-lazy-git’ tradition and you know it,” 

 

Aizawa pouted and Hizashi grabbed the lower part of his lip that stuck out, pulling it so that Aizawa smacked his hand away. 

 

“Gettoff,” he snarled, turning away to inspect the rest of the shopping. “Midoryia. Uraraka. Mind your own business,” he snapped, seeing the two gaping out of the corner of his eye. They scampered off as Hizashi laughed from beside him. 

 

“It’s fine! You don’t need to worry!” he cheered. “I’m the one cooking,”

 

“That doesn’t put my mind at ease,” Aizawa muttered bitterly handing his best friend a bag of groceries to put away. “Carrots go in the fridge, not the freezer, are you an imbecile?” 

 

“I like them crunchy,” Hizashi joked as he closed the freezer drawer. “Wait a minute which one is the fridge then? They’re both frozen,” 

 

Aizawa glared in Hizashi’s direction. 

 

“TODOROKI?!” he yelled with venom. 

 

The boy poked his head around the corner surprisingly quickly, darting towards the fridge muttering excuses under his breath. 

 

“I’m sorry, Bakugou kept on annoying everyone by saying that the fridge was too warm for his precious peach tea or something and I got annoyed at him. I’ll unfreeze it now-“

 

“What’s the one rule?” Aizawa growled at the teenager who looked up at him. 

 

“Don’t use your quirk in Heights Alliance,” Todoroki replied in monotone. 

 

“Wait? That’s a rule?!” Hizashi asked before he could stop himself. 

 

“Of course it is or stupid, reckless-” Aizawa gave a look in Todoroki’s direction “-things happen,”

 

Hizashi started laughing as he unpacked broccoli. 

 

“But I’ve seen your kids use their quirks in here all the ti- Ow! Quit hitting me Shota!” 

 

“Defrost the fridge,” Aizawa instructed Todoroki, completely ignoring Hizashi’s complaints in the background. “And anything that you can’t salvage you’ll be paying for. Got it?” 

 

Todoroki nodded mutely, his left side erupting into flames. 

 

“Get a bucket for the water!” Aizawa cried as the ice reduced into liquid. He resisted the urge to head smack the kitchen counter. 

 

“Or do you not want a cracker tomorrow?” Hizashi followed, shoving a golden wrapped cracker below Todoroki’s chin. Todoroki gave his English teacher the most done look the pro had seen out of the boy before turning on his heel. “Scary...” 

 

“What?” Aizawa asked as Hizashi broke out into a grin again. 

 

“That look is the same look his father gave whenever you had to join him on patrol-“

 

Aizawa clamped his best friends mouth shut with a short shake of the head. Hizashi’s eyebrows raised but he didn’t say anything else. Aizawa prayed that Todoroki hadn’t caught the tail end of the conversation but still feared the worst. 

 

“Irrelevant,” he mused before holding up the giant roast turkey. “Can we fry this?” 

 

Hizashi rolled his eyes. 

 

“In batter?” 

 

—

 

The two had only just put the shopping away before Yaoyoruzu appeared, holding a piece of paper out towards her homeroom teacher. 

 

“Your secret Santa,” she explained, pressing the note into his hand.

 

“My what?” he asked.

 

“Oh. Well, you have to buy the person written on the note a present. Everyone in class 1A has one and we’ll hand them out at the dinner tomorrow,” Yaoyorozu smiled as Aizawa took the paper. “But keep it a secret,”

 

“Can you make me another bucket?” Todoroki asked Yaoyorozu. He was still defrosting the fridge. Yaoyorozu nodded and began activating her quirk. 

 

“No using quirks in-“

 

Aizawa turned to where Yaoyorozu had half a plastic bucket sticking out her torso. He sighed.

 

“Nevermind,”

 

“When did you even come up with this rule Shota?” Hizashi piped up from behind him. “I’ve never heard you- OW!”

 

“What’s this for?” Aizawa asked, holding up the secret Santa note.

 

“For Christmas,” Hizashi whispered comically, drawing a muted smile from Todoroki and a giggle from Yaoyorozu.

 

"Do I have to?" he asked with a sigh.

 

"Well no," Yaoyoruzu replied. "I know who has you for secret Santa so I could just give them your person instead but I think they've already got your present and-"

 

“No it's fine,” he interrupted, defeated. Yaoyorozu smiled at him.

 

"Thank you Aizawa-Sensei,"

 

"You could have let me know earlier,"

 

"I would have but Present Mic said that this way you'd have to agree-" Yaoyorozu started before stopping, covering her hand over her mouth. Aizawa turned to see Hizashi furiously waving his hands at the girl. Aizawa growled.

 

"I'd run now," Todoroki muttered, grabbing the bucket from Yaoyoruzu's mid-drift. She nodded, backing out as Aizawa launched for Hizashi.

 

"OW SHOTA!" 

 

Aizawa eventually pulled away, bitterly unwrapping the note and looking down at the name. 

 

‘Midoryia’

 

Oh for God’s sake.

 

— 

 

“ARE YOU READYYYYYYY!!!” 

 

Twenty sleepy children nodded back at him with various levels of enthusiasm. It was 9am on the Saturday and Hizashi had raised the alarm at 7 to ensure that everyone was ready for what he liked to call ‘Operation Christmas Dinner.’

 

“RIGHHHTTT we need to divide and conquer!” Hizashi continued, unfazed. “Iida if you’d like to take the stage,”

 

Iida nodded from where he was sitting eating his bowl of cereal and came up to the front of the kitchen counter, turning to address the class.

 

“As UA students we much set an exemplary standard for Present Mic and our homeroom teacher as well as rest of the faculty-“

 

“Get on with it Emergency Exit,” Bakugou growled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

 

“Bakugou it is rude to interrupt,” Iida waved in the boy's direction. He sighed and changed tact anyway. “Our plan is simple. We divide into groups based on our strengths. Tokoyami, Todoroki, Shoji, Sato, Midoryia, Uraraka and Bakugou will be helping with the cooking headed by Present Mic,”

 

“But Bakugou nearly blew us up two weeks ago,” Todoroki spoke up, ignoring the explosions coming from in his direction. 

 

“Yes but he’s quick at chopping!” Uraraka cried making chopping motioned with her hands, nearly taking out Asui in the process. Yaoyorozu held up a hand. 

 

“Let Iida finish,” she said as the group fell silent once more. 

 

“Thank you Yaoyorozu,” Iida continued. “Sero, Aoyama, Mineta, Mina, Hagakure, Ojiro, Asui and Koda will do decorations, I believe that Mina and Aoyama have a plan,”

 

“You bet we do!” the pink girl cried enthusiastically, beaming across to her teammates. 

 

“Oui!” Aoyama confirmed, a glint in his eye.

 

“Then Jiro you’ll be in charge of music with Kaminari and Kirishima,” Iida finished. “I and Yaoyorozu will be overseeing everything and making sure that everything is going to keep to time,”

 

“And secret Santa,” Yaoyorozu added.

 

“Yes,” Iida confirmed. “I have made a detailed plan, I’ll post it on the fridge and we should be ready for lunch at 1 pm on the dot!”

 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Bakugou snarled, walking to the fridge and getting out vegetables. Todoroki scoffed in his direction and the groups split off with various amounts of enthusiasm. 

 

“Aoyama! Where’s the glitter!” Mina cried as the two ran off in the direction of the girl's dorms. The others were less enthusiastic, walking behind them. Apart from Mineta. He was delighted about going to the girls dorms.

 

“Sero!” Kaminari called from the side of the room. “Can I get some tape? I haven’t finished wrapping my present yet,”

 

“Dude,” Sero replied. “Your secret Santa won’t be able to unwrap the present if you use my tape,”

 

“Oh shit yeah, fuck what do I do?”

 

“Emmm, tin foil?”

 

“Yes! Perfect! Midoryia! You got any tin foil over there?”

 

Midoryia looked over from where he was in the kitchen. 

 

“Yeah! We need some for the turkey though,” he replied as Kaminari wondered up to them. 

 

“Oh that’s huge!” he commented as Tokoyami appeared from beside them, the turkey in his arms.

 

“Family friend,” he motioned.

 

“Tokoyami STOP!” 

 

—

 

With Hizashi cooking, Aizawa used it as an excuse to let the kids sleep in. Gone was the futile idea of a pop quiz although Aizawa didn’t mind, he needed some time to think of a damn present for problem child. 

 

He awoke at eleven, the first seven-hour night's sleep he’d clocked up in months, and strolled into the kitchen to grab a coffee. 

 

There was a moment as he entered the common area that he thought he might still be dreaming. 

 

Then he realised Hizashi was in charge.

 

The kitchen had been taken over. 

 

Iida was standing on a chair, manically trying to patrol the chaos around him. Sero and Mineta were hanging from the ceiling, a mix of tape, balls and paper chains in their hands. The chain looped around the room, circling the chairs and eventually ending up coming from Yaoyorozu’s torso, the girl being fed pieces of raw carrot Bakugou was chopping on the side, Uraraka levitating the veg and placing it in the pan that Todoroki was heating with his fire, Tokoyami using dark shadow to grab the frozen food from the freezer. 

 

“Don’t use your quirks in-“

 

Aizawa stopped and sighed. He should probably give up on that dream now. 

 

“Morning Aizawa-Sensei!” Kirishima grinned as he looked up from his computer. No one else had seen their homeroom teacher but Aizawa didn’t get a chance to announce his presence before there was a flash of light from beside him and Jiro screeching. 

 

“Kaminari! You BLEW my speaker you shit!”

 

“I’m sorry! I was trying to control my wattage I swear,” 

 

“Hey these peas are frozen solid,” Tokoyami piped up from the kitchen, Dark Shadow pointing to the packet of ice cold veg. “Can someone break them up,”

 

Midoryia nodded, beckoning the packet towards him, placing it on the counter, his arm flashing green. 

 

“California Smas-!“

 

Okay, that was enough now. 

 

Midoryia yelped as a quirkless fist hit the frozen block with a crack, everyone turned to look at Aizawa who was glaring at the room, his eyes red. 

 

“Erasurehead!” Hizashi beamed as if nothing was out of the ordinary at all. He brushed past Midoryia, who was still whimpering, Uraraka now at his side and Bakugou growling, the food production line broken and grabbed Aizawa by the shoulders. “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” 

 

“Yeah, you too,” Aizawa muttered back. “I’m going back to bed,”

 

“Okay!” Hizashi beamed in his wake. “Dinner is at one!”

 

“Excuse me, Present Mic!” Iida cried from where he was standing on the chair, clipboard in hand. “Due to the sudden interruption lunch will now be at 1:04,”

 

“Okay!” Hizashi cried in reply. “Dinner is at 1:04!”

 

“Although if Midoryia has broken his fist then he would need medical attention...” Iida started. 

 

“WE’LL CALL YOU WHEN DINNER’S READY!” Hizashi interrupted with manic enthusiasm. 

 

“Did you break your hand?” Aizawa asked Midoryia, ignoring his best friend. 

 

“You see,” Midoryia smiled back, trying to imitate his stunt from the quirk apprehension test. "I'm still standing,"

 

Aizawa’s mouth started to curl. 

 

“Problem child,” he stated without malice. “Go to Recovery Girl. Your punishment can be telling her you got into a fight with a packet of peas,” 

 

Midoryia grimaced back and trotted past Aizawa. The pro nearly reached out to ruffle his bed hair but stopped himself. 

 

Christmas was weird. 

 

—

 

Dinner ended up being at quarter past one. 

 

Iida looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. 

 

Aizawa walked into the room to find all the tables pushed together, covered with a selection of colorful napkins and table covers, glitter covering every crevice. Gold and silver crackers were placed at every seat with elaborately written place names stuck in front. 

 

There was a turkey in the center of the table, surrounded by herbs and vegetables with trays of potatoes, sausages, and roast parsnips and carrots littered across the table clothes. There was also a plate of mashed potato and something else weird. 

 

“What’s this?” Aizawa asked pointing as he took his seat between Yaoyorozu and Shoji. 

 

“Stuffing,” Todoroki informed him as he carried a plate of something else Aizawa didn’t recognise towards from the kitchen. “These are... What are these called again Mic?” he called to Hizashi who was running the tap. 

 

“Yorkshire puddings!” he called back, activating his quirk. “THEY'RE SICKKKK,” 

 

“No quirks in Heights Alliance!” the majority of class 1A called in his direction, sniggering as Aizawa turned back to them a small smile tickling the corners of his lips. 

 

“Come and sit down,” he beckoned to Hizashi watching the man take off his apron and take his seat at the head of the table. The food had already been passed around, Uraraka using her quirk, with extreme accuracy Aizawa noted, to pass dishes the length of the table and Jiro plugged herself into the speaker and some English Christmas song started playing.

 

It was jarring but it wasn’t Death. 

 

“Hey Aizawa, what d’ya want?” Mina asked from behind him, picking up his plate. 

 

“Just give me everything,” he waved her away watching the kids interact around him. They were almost getting on. 

 

“Happy?” 

 

Aizawa looked over to where Todoroki was piling sausages wrapped in bacon onto Bakugou’s plate. 

 

“I like them burnt,” the explosive teen muttered. Todoroki took the plate back from the others hand and picked up the sausages in one, erupting his hand into fire before dropping them back on the plate. 

 

“WHAT THE FUCK ICY-HOT?!” Bakugou yelled as they disintegrated into his stuffing. 

 

Okay almost getting on.

 

“Everyone got everything?” Yaoyorozu asked from the other head of the table, the majority nodding before she picked up her own, still empty plate. As she crossed Aizawa the pro tapped her on the arm. 

 

“Swap with my plate,” he offered, holding up his full plate that Mina had gotten for him.

 

“It’s okay Aizawa-Sensei,” Yaoyorozu replied with a smile but Aizawa shook his head. 

 

“This all took you a lot of time,” he persuaded. “Besides, mine is covered in glitter,”

 

“It’s edible glitter,” Yaoyoruzu reassured him.

 

“Just take it kid,” 

 

Yaoyoruzu did this time with a bow of her head, her eyes lighting up slightly at the amount of food. She’d been using her quirk all morning. She was shattered. 

 

Aizawa almost smiled but spotted Hizashi grinning at him out of the corner of his eye. He got up to get some roast potatoes instead. 

 

“Itadakimasu!” the group cheered as the group had gotten their food.

 

Kirishima called out from the other end of the table. 

 

“Merry Christmas!”

 

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!” the class cheered back. 

 

“Oh and kanpai!” Aizawa motioned, raising his glass of non-alcoholic fizz 

 

“Kanpai!” 

 

“How is it?” Hizashi asked Aizawa as they tucked into the food. “Better than KFC?”

 

“It’s good,” Aizawa admitted with a grin. 

 

Hizashi highfived Bakugou, probably one of the weirdest student-teacher interactions Aizawa had seen.

 

"Shut up," he replied, taking another mouthful of turkey. "Where did you find this?" he motioned to his forkful.

 

"My mother met her at book group,"

 

"TOKOYAMI STOP!"

 

— 

 

“Right!” Yaoyorozu cried, standing from her seat. “As deputy head of this class, I was entrusted to organise secret Santa and before dessert, I think we should hand out the gifts we got for each other,”

 

The class erupted in a buzz, some reaching under the table and others dashing off to their rooms to collect their gifts. 

 

“Please present your gifts in the middle of the common room table!” Iida yelled after them. “And make sure they’re clearly labeled!” 

 

A minute later and twenty-one gifts were laid out across the common room. Some were beautifully wrapped, tied with string and bows and some… Well one was wrapped with tin foil. Aizawa placed his down with the rest, making the number twenty-two and whilst Yaoyorozu counted to make sure that everyone’s was there he looked out for his present.

 

He couldn’t help but feel a little excited.

 

Only a tad.

 

“Perfect!” Yaoyorozu smiled. “Find your present!” she instructed to the class as they dived into the pile. Students were popping up all over the place, holding up gifts left, right and center, wrapping paper flying across the room.

 

“No way a Death CD?! Legendary!”

 

“Red hair dye, who knew I needed this?!”

 

“Brie! J’adore brie!”

 

“OH YEAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Hizashi screamed from beside him holding up a Strawbery Hello Panda biscuits with the note 'Don't fucking touch my food again' attached to it. "I wonder who my secret Santa was?!"

 

“I wonder,” Aizawa muttered, bending down and picking up the last gift in the pile supposedly his. It was wrapped in brown paper, the tape extremely neat and the label stating ‘Aizawa-Sensei’ in handwriting Aizawa recognised.

 

He looked up and across to Midoryia who was opening his gift beside the excited Iida who’d received a toolkit. Aizawa watched as the boy undid the bow, peel away the wrapping paper and stared. He saw the kids eyes well up and grinned. Midoryia looked around, eyes glistening and met eye to eye with his homeroom teacher as Aizawa turned away to unwrap his own present. He set it down on the kitchen counter and whilst everyone was engrossed in their gifts he unwrapped his own. 

 

It was a wooden box and opening the lid Aizawa uncovered a variation of gifts. And a list. There was a yellow travel pillow (the note said ‘to accompany his sleeping bag’), a plethora of eye drops (not from the nearest and cheapest 7eleven for once), some juice packets (all the available flavours), a pack of 100 black ballpoint pens (in case he ran out), a bottle of syrup for making posh coffee (with instructions) and earplugs (for being around Present Mic). Aizawa chuckled at that as he turned the note over. Very practical. 

 

Very Iida. 

 

“Right!” Hizashi cried. “Desert!!” 

 

“Oh yeah!” Sato grinned, going into the kitchen and opening up the, now pristine looking, fridge and pulling out a huge cake. “It’s strawberry and cream!” he announced. “A Japanese tradition!” 

 

Aizawa looked over at Hizashi who finger gunned him with a smirk. 

 

How ridiculous. 

 

—

 

BONUS STORY TIMEEEE

 

‘What Aizawa got Midoryia for Christmas’

 

Yagi used his elbow to open the door to the offices, his arms full of end of term paperwork and notices. He didn’t have anything on the following day and so officially done for the second term. A perfect excuse to get his paperwork sorted in peace. He expected the office to be empty. 

 

It was nearly midnight after all. 

 

“What does Midoryia want for Christmas?” Aizawa asked as Yagi walked through the door. The man was taken aback at Aizawa’s frustrated glare but continued into the office. 

 

“I don’t know,” he replied truthfully. “Why do you ask?”

 

“I’m his secret Santa,” Aizawa replied in a tone that could ruin Christmas. Yagi took a moment before chucking to himself. “Stop it,” Aizawa growled. “What would the problem child like?” 

 

Aizawa was leaning against his desk, foot tapping, eyes screwed up. It was unnatural for something so mundane. 

 

“I’m honestly not sure,” Yagi smilied. “I haven’t even got him anything myself,”

 

“You don’t have to,” Aizawa waved him off. “We don’t even celebrate Christmas in this country,”

 

“Oh well I was thinking some new weights-“ Yagi mused. 

 

“I’m stealing your idea,” Aizawa interrupted. 

 

“You can’t! It’s my idea!” 

 

“Try me,”

 

“Buy him some of my merch,” Yagi grinned. 

 

“I wouldn’t be seen dead doing that,” Aizawa grimaced. Whereas All Might may have been hurt by Aizawa’s lack of respect, Yagi simply chuckled once more shaking his head.

 

“There’s always online shopping,” 

 

“Won’t arrive by tomorrow,”

 

“Who has you for secret Santa?” Yagi asked, trying to change the topic. It was futile however, Aizawa was pacing the length of the room. 

 

“I don’t know. It’s secret,” he replied shortly. Yagi sighed. 

 

“I think you may be overthinking this,” he suggested. “Although it’s admirable you care so much,”

 

“Shut up,” 

 

Aizawa slumped down by his desk and put his head in his hands, lip pouted. 

 

“Well. I have the unreleased press images from the Hosu fight,” Yagi continued as he pulled out a brown envelope. “The police paid the journalists off but they’re quite an interesting look,” he offered Aizawa. “A few good ones of Midoriya,” 

 

Aizawa looked up at that, a glint in his eye. He strode over and flicked through the photos Yagi handed him, cogs whirring... There was one of Midoriya, Stain knelt over him on the road, another of his students dragging the villain out of the alleyway towards the pro's, one of the Nomu dragging Midoryia into the air. They were blurry, the quality shaky and pixelated but they were Midoryia. No. They were Deku. 

 

“What happens to these?” he asked. 

 

“Nothing, either I keep them or they get destroyed really,” Yagi replied. “Why?” 

 

Aizawa picked a few and kept a hold of them, handing the rest back. 

 

“Secret Santa done,” he replied, shoving the images in a spare envelope and scrawling ‘Deku’ on the front. 

 

“What?” Yagi asked, bemused. 

 

“Done,” Aizawa repeated, holding up the envelope. 

 

“Wait! No!” Yagi cried. “The images can’t be leaked, they’re from Hosu, the police gave me warnings-!”

 

He stopped, watching Aizawa scrawl ‘do not show off’ underneath the name on the envelope. 

 

“That’s not... Aizawa I don’t understand,” 

 

“He will,” Aizawa replied shortly with a smirk. 

 

—

 

Midoryia saw his present before they were told to go ahead and collect them. 

 

He’d been trying to work it out in his head, who had him that was. He’d narrowed it down to Uraraka, due to her insistence questions on his favorite chocolate and what All Might figures he already had, Koda as the boy was one of the only ones who hadn’t revealed anything about his present and Bakugou. 

 

The explosive boy had been incredibly, well explosive this week.

 

He hadn’t even suspected his homeroom teacher, however. He’d doubted that Aizawa would even take part but as he watched the pro place a blue package down on the table and glance in his direction he got an overwhelming feeling he knew who his secret Santa was. 

 

And turning the label over confirmed his suspicions.

 

He was almost nervous. 

 

As the class split, opening their presents he picked the package up gingerly. It was rectangular in shape, soft but there was something inside.

 

He tore the tape off, unwrapping it to reveal a brown envelope with his name-wait-his hero name on it and the sentence ‘do not show off’ scrawled on it.

 

Peeling open the envelope he pulled out some photos, going through them and realising what they were of. 

 

Hosu. The battle with Stain. Him pulling Stain out of the alleyway, him being thrown into the air by the Nomu, one with him with Stain over him...

 

He didn’t realise what it meant to him until he realised he was shaking.

 

Midoryia looked back at the envelope and watched as the writing on the paper became watery through his vision. 

 

Deku. It read Deku.

 

Real press photos from one of his first fights as a hero.

 

Everything he’d been working towards his whole life, consolidated in a few blurry images.

 

He wanted to thank Aizawa, even if it was just a look, something to acknowledge… 

 

But he looked up to see the pro gone. 

 

“Right!” Present Mic cried from beside him. Midoryia shoved the envelope in his pocket as his class drew their attention back to the present. “Desert!!” 

 

It didn’t matter. Midoryia knew his homeroom teacher wouldn’t want a ‘thank you’. He’d want him to live up to his namesake. 

 

And maybe one day he would get to fight alongside Erasurehead. 

 

As a hero. 

Notes:

Also as a bonus bonus, me and one of my friends here on AO3, A_L_W, came up with the other secret Santa's XD so enjoy!

Midoryia - Ayoama (A fondue machine)
Iida - Aizawa (box of very useful things)
Uraraka - Jiro (Death CD)
Koda - Shoji (An extremely loose hoodie, to cater for arms)
Mineta - Ashido (Gym Gear - kinda Pervy)
Sero - Kaminari (A nerf gun - he has his own and when he opens it, he shoots him)
Bakugou - Hizashi (his own box of biscuits to stop him stealing his)
Kaminari - Ojiro (Big Scarf for his tail)
Kirishima - Sato (Pez Dispenser with glucose tablets)
Tokoyami - Asui (Heated Blanket)
Todoroki - Iida (Toolkit)
Momo - Sero (Cashmere Turtleneck jumper)
Jiro - Kirishima (red hairdye)
Asui - Koda (Ant Farm - to help him to get over fear of insects)
Sato - Mineta (Hydration Tablets - because he’s always so thirsty)
Ashido - Tokoyami (matching hats for him and Dark Shadow)
Ayoama - Todoroki (Yakisoba Four Cheese, soba flavoured - GENUINE THING haha)
Ojiro - Hagakure (A locket - containing a mirror and picture of the class)
Shoji - Uraraka (Shoe protector - so if she throws up on her shoes they’ll be safe)
Hagakure - Yaoyorozu (Spa Day voucher for two)
Aizawa - Midoryia (pictures)
Hizashi - Bakugou (A ‘signed’ CD of his radio show)

Chapter 15: New Years

Summary:

Aizawa can't get away from the kids even at New Years.

Notes:

Thank you all so much for your continued support through these last few months of 2018!
This chapter isn’t full of drama or action but it’s wholesome kids being kids, so grab a cuppa and settle down for the ride! (it’s also my longest chapter yet !!!)

Finally for the first time I’m going to ask for a little plea. As MHA is on hiatus now (apart from the manga OMFG) views, kudos etc have slowed which I don’t mind! But in order to keep my existing audience reading please give me prompts!! If I know what you guys want to read then I’ll write it! Right now there’s defo some drunk Mic on the way and the other three phone calls but if you have any ideas please comment them below and I’ll stack them up for a story-full 2019!

Thank you and enjoy the chapter x

P.s GLOSSARY DOWN BELOW (you’ll understand haha)

“Young Midoryia!” Yagi called, as he walked around the corner to the entrance of the shrine. “Happy New Year!”

 

“Happy New Year!” Midoryia called across the street, as he and his mother crossed the road. “Thank you for coming today!” he beamed, as only a sixteen-year-old could.

 

“It‘s my pleasure,” Yagi smiled, going to greet Midoryia’s mother, Inko.

 

“Did you not have family of your own this year?” Inko asked with a warm smile. Although still wary, Inko was coming to terms with Yagi, or All Might, becoming part of her son’s life, entrusting the former pro more and more with his safety. It was a relationship mostly glued by Midoryia’s enthusiasm, with a substantial amount of guilt from both adults. 

 

It wasn’t that Midoryia didn’t have a dad but Inko could have never provided a father figure for him the way that Yagi had just a mear year into her son’s high school education. It was true there was jealousy there but she would push it aside, like she would push anything aside, to see her son happy. 

 

So that was why, when Midoryia had asked if they could meet the former pro hero All Might on New Year’s Day to go to the shrine, just the three of them, she’d agreed. 

 

She’d even invited him around for lunch afterward. 

 

“Ah, no, not anymore,” Yagi replied.

 

“Oh, well I’m very sorry.” Inko bowed her head respectfully but Yagi shook his own, taking her son by the shoulders. 

 

“No! I should be just as happy to spend this day with you!” he beamed. “No grandparents this year?”

 

“We left them at home,” Midoryia replied, leading the conversation as the three walked into the shrine’s entrance. “They decided that it was too much walking for them, seeing as there’s a festival attached to this shrine as well,”

 

“Ah, well I must wish them a Happy New Year when we get back,” Yagi smiled. “I’m glad you like the gloves I got you,” he motioned to the teen's hands. 

 

“Oh! Yeah! They help protect my scars,”

 

“You’ll be prone to getting colder now,” Yagi explained. “The circulation won’t be as good to your extremities from the breaks,”

 

Inko watched the two walk into the festival's entrance and smiled sadly. 

 

“Hey mum!” Midoryia turned to call to her. 

 

“Yes Izuku?” 

 

“Can I tell Yagi-San about the time when you accidentally used your quirk on Bakugou?”

 

Inko nodded with a chuckle as she caught up to the pair. It was nice. To see her son happy.

 

—

 

“QUIT YOUR WHINING!” Mitsuki yelled at her son who was pacing into the festival a few meters in front. 

 

“I’LL DO WHAT I WANT!” he exploded back, without turning to look at her. 

 

“We’re in a sacred place, please,” Masaru pleaded, supposedly falling on deaf ears.

 

“DID YOU HEAR WHAT YOUR FATHER SAID?!”

 

“YOU’RE THE ONE SHOUTING!”

 

“Can’t this argument wait?” Masaru asked.

 

“THIS ISN’T AN ARGUMENT!” Mitsuki turned on her husband. Bakugou rolled his eyes as he felt footsteps approach.

 

“Hey! Bakugou!” the explosive teen heard from just in front of him. He looked up to see Kirishima along with Sero, Kaminari and Jiro in tow. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked towards the group. 

 

“What are you guys doing here?” he asked, blocking out his parent's one-sided argument from behind him.

 

“What do you think stupid?!” Sero grinned. “We’re going to the shrine, just happened to bump into each other. Figured you’d be here as well!”

 

“Happy New Year!” Kirishima called over to Bakugou’s parents who stopped their arguing to wave back.  Kirishima reached into his backpack. “Oh and Happy New Year to you too,” he smiled, shoving a card into his best friends hands. 

 

Bakugou looked down at the Nengajou with a touch of surprise, opening the card up in his hand to see a little angry sketch of supposedly himself, followed by his friends signatures. 

 

“If you win, you have to share the winnings with us,” Jiro winked as Bakugou turned the card over to peer at the back. 

 

“Doesn’t get announced until the eighteenth,” he replied, noting the lottery date and looking up to see the group still grinning at him. 

 

“Better keep it safe then,” Sero smiled, sending finger guns his way. “We were going to go look around, want to come with?”

 

“Sure,” Bakugou replied turning to his parents. “I’m going to look around the stalls,” he called. 

 

“No, we’re going to the shrine now before the queues get long,” Mitsuki replied, leaving Bakugou rolling his eyes. Kirishima saw the beginnings of sparks flaring from his best friends palms, stepping in front of him and his mother, arms waving.

 

“It’s okay we’ll head that way as well!” he cried, relieving the tension and turning to the rest of the group. 

 

“Yeah, I should probably find where my parents are anyway,” Kaminari added. “My grandparents have come over for the week as well,”

 

“We’ll all walk together,” Masaru said, smiling at his wife who was still glaring at Bakugou. 

 

“Fine but keep your damn distance,” Bakugou replied stalking off to walk between his friends. 

 

“Jeez Bakugou how do you get away with being such an arsehole to your parents?” Jiro asked as they moved into the festival. 

 

Bakugou looked at her confused. 

 

“I’m not rude,” he replied indignantly. As if on cue, shouting was heard from behind them once more. 

 

“Like mother like son?” Sero whispered to Kaminari with a grin.

 

—

 

“Erasurehead!” Yagi called as the trio entered the stalls. Midoryia looked up to see his teachers, Aizawa, Midnight and Present Mic alongside two adults he’d never seen before. 

 

“Happy New Year!” Hizashi yelled, the full power of his quirk causing Inko to nearly take a step backward. 

 

“Wow..!” she breathed. 

 

“He’s amazing isn’t he!” Midoryia beamed as he walked up to his teachers. “Happy New Year!”

 

“Hello Midoryia,” Nemuri smiled down at the boy. 

 

“And this must be the famous Midoryia-San!” Hizashi cried, Inko going red. 

 

“Well I don’t know about that,” Inko stuttered. 

 

“From the way your son talks about you, you must be very special indeed,” Midnight extending a hand. “Happy New Year,”

 

“H-happy New Year,” Inko replied, welling up. 

 

“Happy New Year to you all,” Aizawa added, feeling rude not to. Inko smiled in reply but didn’t make eye contact. “These are my parents, Aiya and Junichiro,” 

 

“Oh wow! It’s nice to meet you! And Happy New Year!” Midoryia beamed wise-eyed. Aizawa watched as his parents lapped up the new insight on Aizawa’s life, his father going to shake the teen's hand. 

 

“Midoryia isn’t it?” Junichiro asked. “We watched you on TV. Very impressive stuff,”

 

“Agreed,” Aiya added, not quite paying attention, instead looking across to her sons face. “Shota! Where on earth did you get this from?!” 

 

Aizawa felt his mother grab the side of his cheek, pulling his face downwards towards her height. He desperately tried to back away, aware of Inko’s state and Yagi‘s look of glee. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his mother staring deeply at his scar, a look of worry and disapproval written across her features. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei got it when he saved us from USJ!” Midoryia cried in reply. Aizawa could see his nervous look, glancing in his Inko’s direction. Inko herself looks as disapproving as Aizawa’s own mother did. “We wouldn’t be alive without him!” the teenager continued. 

 

“Or All Might of course!” Inko replied to her son. The comment was said in a way that was clearly still meant for a fourteen-year-old Midoryia but there was a tone which Aizawa heard as ‘back off’. Understandable of course. Yagi had told him about his visit to the Midoryia’s and this was the first time the two had met. Midoryia was meant to be under Aizawa’s care and he had failed him. So, in essence, he’d failed her. So he was surprised when she stepped forward and took his chin with her own hand, much like his mother did, peering at the mottled scar, feeling along the raised edge. “You picked at it,” she finally confirmed, pulling away. 

 

Aizawa looked around at the group wondering if anyone had ever heard of personal space or if he just had ‘one of those faces’. 

 

“I didn’t mean to,” he replied gruffly. “It was the right height.” He imitated scratching at his face before he realised what he was implying. Inko’s expression changed immediately from that of a scolding mother to a softer look as she looked down slightly. Aizawa didn’t even need to mention the word ‘nightmares’.

 

“It must have been hard for you all,” she smiled softly, still not looking Aizawa in the eye. 

 

Oh for God’s sake. What a mood ruiner. The expression on everyone else’s faces agreed. 

 

“Awkwarddddd!” Hizashi yelled from beside them. Aizawa fought the will to punch his best friend in the face. “I’m going to have a look around at the stalls. Anyone want to join me?”

 

There were a chorus of ‘yes’s’ and the groups started to split off. Aizawa kicked the dirt with his shoe. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei are you okay?” Midoryia’s voice came from behind him. Damnit. Aizawa felt a pull from beside him, his mother’s quirk activating as he turned, hair rising. He got halfway through activating his own quirk before pain shot through his head. 

 

“OW?!” both him and his father yelled, backing away and turning on each other. 

 

“DON’T ERASE YOUR MOTHER’S QUIRK!”

 

“DON’T ERASE MY ERASURE THEN!”

 

“IT’S RUDE AND DISRESPECTFUL-“

 

“-IT NEVER WORKS. YOU KNOW IT DOESN’T WORK! IT JUST ENDS UP IN PAIN!”

 

Midoryia instinctively went for his pocket, gasping in horror. 

 

“You alright kid?” Midnight asked from beside him, Inko and Yagi stopping a few paces away. 

 

“I don’t have my notebook,” he whispered mutely. 

 

“Your notebook?” Midnight asked, looking down at the kid. 

 

“Well if Aizawa-Sensei’s quirk can be erased by erasure then does that mean that there are other quirks that can also erase his quirk. Like Monama’s quirk?! Can he copy Aizawa’s quirk and then use it on Sensei or will that cancel him out? Also, what’s the recovery time for-“

 

“Kid,” Midnight interrupted, Midoryia looking up at her wide-eyed. 

 

“Yes Midnight-Sensei?”

 

“Get a girlfriend,” she replied, ruffling his hair. 

 

“Hey Deku!”

 

“Uraraka?! W-where did you come from?” Midoryia cried, bolting round to where Uraraka stood beside them, timing impeccable. She was dressed in a pink Kimono, a white fur collar covering her neck, her cheeks as pink as ever, smile dazzling in the early morning sunrise. 

 

“I’m with my parents!” she smiled, motioning over to her mother and father, waving. “Hey Midnight-Sensei! It’s nice to see you!”

 

“You too Uraraka,” Nemuri grinned back. “Go on you two, go have fun,” 

 

Midoryia felt himself raise a hand, waving back at his best friends parents. Uraraka grabbed his palm instinctively, pulling him towards them. “Come and say hello!” she started as Midoryia lost his footing, tripping over his own feet to catch up with her. “Is your mum here as well?” she continued. “And does Aizawa-Sensei’s dad have the same quirk as him? That’s pretty cool...”

 

Nemuri smiled at the two as they headed off, Yagi and Inko now in tow, before turning to wander off in the vague direction of Hizashi. “Shota you coming to find Hizashi with me?” she called. “He’s gone and wandered off,” 

 

“Yes,” Aizawa replied swiftly turning from his parents. Aiya already had her silk capture on her son, turning him back and sending Aizawa flailing. 

 

“He’ll be there in a minute,” she smiled back at Nemuri. 

 

“We won’t keep him long,” Junichiro added. Aizawa must have muttered something under his breath because the next thing Midnight heard as she wondered off was-

 

“OW! STOP!”

 

—

 

“Hello there Midoryia,” Uraraka’s mother smiled at him as the young hero was dragged over by Uraraka. Her dad seemingly chuckling at the expression on the teenager's face.  “It’s lovely to see you again,”

 

“H-happy New Year, Uraraka-S-san,” Midoryia stuttered back as he felt his own mum behind him. 

 

“Happy New Year,” Uraraka’s mother replied with a smile similar to her daughters. 

 

“Have you been to the shrine yet?” Uraraka asked as Midoryia shook his head, the parents making acquaintances behind them. “Neither have I! We could go together if you wanted to? I have some money from my Otoshidama as well if you wanted to look around the stalls afterward? I don’t have much I was hoping to get some more mochi,” she confessed, grinning at Midoryia’s enthusiastic nods. 

 

“I have mine!” he smiled, pulling out his own Otoshidama. “I think there’s enough in here for mochi for both of us if you don’t have enough. I wanted to find a new notebook as well,” 

 

“We’ll go into town once New Years is over,” Uraraka confirmed with a thumbs up.

 

“Midoryia! Uraraka!” a voice suddenly called from across the stalls. The pair turned to see Iida along with his brother waving at right angles across to the two of them. The pair ran over, Uraraka immediately coo-ing over the pair Kimono’s, both shades of dark blues, koi fish etched on in silver thread.

 

“Ohh! You have matching Kimono’s! That’s cool!” Uraraka admired as Midoryia started, smiling up at the former Ingenium. 

 

“It is our families tradition,” Iida replied with prowess. Tensei laughed behind him.

 

“Tenya is a little proud,” he winked at Midoryia and Uraraka. “Really they were just made for us as kids in the same material and we’ve been keeping it up ever since,”

 

“That’s so sweet!” Uraraka beamed.

 

“You’re looking well Ingenium!” Midoryia cried, admiring Iida’s older brother who shook his head with a sad smile.

 

“Please, don’t call me Ingenium,” he replied. “Tensei is perfectly fine,”

 

“Oh right! Sorry Tensei-kun,” Midoryia apologised.

 

“Have you been here long?” Uraraka asked, pushing down her own Kimono as the wind caught around the group.

 

“We’ve visited the shrine,” Iida replied, pushing his glasses further up his nose. 

 

“Wow already?”

 

“We were one of the first in line,” 

 

“So organised!” Uraraka cried. “My parents were still in bed when it opened,”

 

“This one gets up at seven am no matter the day,” Tensei teased, motioning at his younger brother. 

 

“Ochako!” a voice called from behind them, Uraraka’s parents walking over with Inko and Yagi in tow.

 

“Look’s like we’re off,” Midoryia commented. “If you have your Otoshidama though we were going to head to town in a bit or get some mochi from one of the stalls?”

 

“Sounds perfect,”

 

“Oh but say hello first!” Uraraka smiled. “My parents really want to meet you! And All Might’s here as well!”

 

“Ah! We saw Present Mic when we were praying,” Tensei smiled. 

 

“Oh so that’s where it is! Aizawa and Midnight-Sensei were looking for him,” Midoryia explained.

 

“Ah well! He shouldn’t be too hard to find then!” Iida cried.

 

—

 

“I can’t find Hizashi anywhere,” Nemuri muttered, taking a seat beside Aizawa’s father. Her best friend and parents were sat at a zouni stall. Aizawa looked as if he was welcome for the company. 

 

“Give me a second,” Aizawa replied, pulling out his phone and composing a quick text. 

 

“Let me grab you some zouni,” Junichiro smiled, pushing the bench back to stand. 

 

“Oh you don’t have to,” Nemuri replied. 

 

“It’s not a problem,” Junichiro waved her away, a very Aizawa hand gesture. 

 

“Thank you,” Nemuri called after him as he disappeared into the crowd. 

 

“So,” Aiya started as her son was distracted. “Are you single right now Nemuri?”

 

“Stop it mother,”

 

“I’m not...” Nemuri smirked. “I haven’t had time to be honest,” 

 

“Ah well maybe the one you need is hiding under a mop of hair,” Aiya replied, reaching out to push the hair out of Aizawa’s eyes. He grunted, flicking it back instinctively. 

 

“Done,” Aizawa said, placing the phone back on the table. Junichiro returned, placing the steaming zouni in front of Nemuri who wrapped her hands around it, grateful for the warmth. 

 

“Did you ask him where he was?” Nemuri asked, sipping on her soup. 

 

“Kind of,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“How old are you now Nemuri-San?” Aiya continued, Aizawa placing his head in his hands.

 

“Mother. Stop,”

 

“Oh you know, late twenties,”

 

Aizawa scoffed.

 

“Shut up,” Nemuri scowled. 

 

“Aizawa, don’t be so rude,” Aiya scolded her son. “You’re the same age aren’t you? Thirty-one,”

 

It was Nemuri’s turn to put her head in her hands.

 

“Did you tell Hizashi to give you his location?” she whispered to Aizawa.

 

“Not exactly,”

 

“A girl in her early thirties! You should already be out on dates, having a boyfriend, or are you gay? Do you like girls?”

 

“Mother please,”

 

“No, it’s not that,” Nemuri smiled awkwardly. “There just hasn’t been anyone I like yet,” 

 

“Nobody submissive enough,” Aizawa muttered under his breath with a smirk. Nemuri leaned across the table and hit him. 

 

“Well, this is you chance Shota! To step up! Be a man,” Junichiro cried, Aizawa rolling his eyes. 

 

“Hero work has become bit heavy as well at the moment,” Nemuri guided the conversation off of her best friend. “With the number one hero being Endeavour now-”

 

“Which one was he?” Aiya interrupted, turning to her son. “Oh, wasn’t he the one you were always complaining about working with?” 

 

Aizawa grunted in reply.

 

“You’re just being difficult Shota,” Junichiro grinned as Nemuri fought not to choke on a rice cake. 

 

“No, I’d have to say, Shota is definitely the more compliant out of the two,”

 

“There you are!” Aiya cried, turning to Nemuri with a smile. “Compliant, that’s similar to, what was it you were looking for Nemuri? Submissive?” 

 

There was a moment of silence as Nemuri turned a deep shade of red before Aizawa couldn’t control himself any longer and burst out laughing. 

 

“What? What’s so funny?” Aiya asked indignantly. “What did I say?”

 

“Shota Aizawa! Don’t be so rude to your mother!” Junichiro yelled across the table.

 

“I was right, wasn’t I?” Aiya asked Nemuri. Luckily the girl didn’t have to answer as from behind them came a deafening scream.

 

“YEEAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Hizashi’s over there,” Aizawa pointed in the direction of the scream, still giggling like a child. 

 

“Wait what? You asked him to scream?” Nemuri asked as she gathered up her Kimono, thanking Junichiro for the soup. 

 

“I thought it would be the easiest excuse for us to go,” Aizawa replied quietly before turning to his parents. “We’re going to go retrieve Hizashi,” 

 

“Keep us updated Shota!” Aiya called after her son. “You’d better be right here with us when the queue to the shrine dies down!”

 

“Listen to your mother!” Junichiro added, Aizawa giving them a wave. The two were just out of view as Nemuri whacked Aizawa across the head, taking him by surprise. 

 

“Oi! What?!” he cried, Nemuri’s eyes blazing. 

 

“Submissive?!” she hissed. “You bastard!”

 

Aizawa tried to turn to her solemnly but ended up cracking a wild grin in her direction. Nemuri went to hit him again. 

 

“Okay! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he laughed pushing her back as they made their way in the direction of their best friends screeches. 

 

—

 

“Look, I’m great at these games,” Natsuo grinned walking over to the Super ball Sukui stall, Shoto and Fuyumi following behind. The Todoroki siblings had used the fact that Endeavor was on duty to show Shoto what he’d been missing out on. 

 

“Super ball Sukui?” Fuyumi laughed. “God we haven’t played that since we were kids!”

 

“But who always won?” Natsuo winked back at his older sister. “Did you ever play Shoto?”

 

“No,” Shoto replied as Natsuo paid the stall tender for two goes. 

 

“Right, it’s easy don’t worry,” Natsuo replied, handing Todoroki a scoop. “This is called a Poi and you see the paper?”

 

Todoroki nodded mutely, looking up at his older brother as he animatedly explained the rules of the game. 

 

“Well it’s made out of washi paper so it’s super thin,” Natsou continued. “You basically try and scoop as many balls into the tub until the paper breaks okay? Any you collect, you win,”

 

“Okay…” Todoroki replied as he felt the Poi’s weight in one hand. “What’s the point?”

 

“There isn’t really one!” Natsou smiled. “It’s just fun to try and win the balls!”

 

“Oh God and we used to win loads!” Fuyumi smiled, bending down beside her brothers. “Wasn’t your great plan to win so many that we could fill a room with the balls and turn it into a ball pit?”

 

“Oh yeah!” Natsou replied. “I ended up giving them to the children hospital I did my internship with instead,”

 

“Can we still do that?” Todoroki asked, looking up at his siblings. “Create a ball pit?”

 

“Yeah!” Natsou replied enthusiastically.

 

“Okay then,” Todoroki nodded, rolling up the sleeves of his jumper.

 

“One please,” Fuyumi asked the stall tender, handing across her yen and reaching for her own Poi. “On the count of three?”

 

“Right!” Natsou cried. “One! Two-!”

 

“Three!” Todoroki yelled, reaching his Poi into the water and splashing his older siblings in the process.

 

“Oi Shoto! No fair!” 

 

“I’ll still win!”

 

“It’s not a race!”

 

—

 

“Oh, can we stop here?” Iida asked as the four came up to a stall, Iida reaching for his old charms and throwing them into the pile of other charms and talisman from 2018.

 

“Good thinking Iida!” Uraraka cried as Tensei did the same. “Mum! Do you have last year’s charms?”

 

“I do!” came the replied as the parents drew closer.

 

“Did you want yours?” Inko asked her son as she reached for Midoryia’s old charm in her handbag. 

 

“Thank you,” Midoryia said as he took the wooden plaque from his mum and stared down at it. 

 

“What did yours say?” Yagi asked as he threw his own one into the pile. 

 

“I asked for strength, so I could grow as a hero,” Midoryia replied, running his finger over the etchings. “How about you Yagi-san?”

 

“Ah I asked for time,” the former pro replied wistfully. “But I am happy with the way that this year panned out nevertheless,”

 

“It’s okay!” Midoryia cheered. “It’s time for a fresh start anyway,”

 

“That it is,” Yagi replied as he watched his successor throw his charm into the pile to be burnt. “That it is...”

 

—

 

“You won?! Again!” Natsou cried as Todoroki counted bouncy balls, shoving them into his backpack. 

 

“Sixteen,” he recited with a grin. 

 

“Seems like you’ve found your match,” Fuyumi grinned at her brothers.

 

“Go again?” Todoroki asked, Natsou ruffling his hair.

 

“Someone else is on there right now,” he replied, pointing to where two girls, on in a striking red Kimino, her black hair tied up in a familiar pony-tail.

 

“Yaoyorozu,” Todoroki said before he could stop himself. The two girls turned with a smile, waving across to him. 

 

“Todoroki!” Jiro cried as the paper broke on her Poi. “Ah damn!”

 

“How many did you get?” Todorkoi asked as he approached the two. 

 

“Four,” Jiro grinned. 

 

“Seven!” Yaoyorozu cried with a smile. “How are you Todoroki-kun?”

 

“Good,” Todoroki replied.

 

“Are those your siblings?” Jiro asked, waving over to Fuyumi and Natsou. 

 

“Yeah,” Todoroki replied bashfully.

 

“Your sister’s so pretty!” Jiro cried as Todoroki reached for the back of his neck. 

 

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed. “How about your parents?”

 

“Oh I’m with my grandparents but I came to the festival with some of the Bakasquad before bumping into Yaoyorozu,” Jiro explained, sending Momo a small smile.

 

“Bakugou’s assembled a squadron now?”

 

Yaoyorozu giggled.

 

“It’s just the group they hand around with,” Jiro explained with a grin. “Did you want to come hang with us?”

 

“I should probably stay with my siblings,” Todoroki replied. “We’re creating a ball pit,”

 

“What?” Yaoyorozu asked in surprise. 

 

“A ball pit,” Todoroki explained. “Oh, you can make balls can’t you?”

 

“These your classmates?” Natsou asked, coming up beside his brother and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, a motion that still shocked Todoroki slightly. 

 

“Happy New Year!” Yaoyorozu smiled. “My name’s Yaoyorozu and this is Jiro. We’re in Class 1-A as well,” 

 

“Nice to meet you,” Natsou replied.

 

“Happy New Year!” Fuyumi added. “Are you going to the shrine? You can come with us if you want?”

 

“Oh! If that’s okay?” Yaoyorozu cried, Jiro nodding as well. 

 

“Of course!” Natsou grinned. “I want to know all of Shoto’s secrets anyway,” he winked.

 

“I don’t have any secrets,” Todoroki replied. 

 

“I’ll take anything I can get brother,” Natsou winked, Shoto’s cheeks going pink as the group walked towards the shrine.

 

“I want to know about this ball pit,” Yaoyorozu commented.

 

—

 

“Wow! The shrine looks so pretty!” Uraraka cried as Iida and Tensei waved goodbye on their way to collect new charms. 

 

“Come on Ochako!” Uraraka’s dad called.

 

“Oh! I’ll see you in a little bit Deku!” Uraraka smiled as she ran after her parents to pray. 

 

“Young Midoryia!” Yagi boomed at nearly All Might volumes once Uraraka had left. “This,” he started, pulling out a small envelope from his coat pocket. “Is for you,” 

 

Midoryia took the gift from his mentor's hands, turning it over in his hands and staring at the All Might pattern covering the Otoshidama, tinted in gold embellishments. He looked up at Yagi, eyes already spilling over, his mother’s eyes watering all the same. 

 

“But... But All Might... You didn’t have to you-“

 

Midoryia was halfway through gushing when an explosion went off directly behind them, sending the Otoshidama flying and Midoryia grappling to catch it. 

 

“ARE YOU GUYS MORONS?!”

 

“Uhh hi Kacchan... What are you doing here?” Midoryia stuttered, turning to look up at his rival looming above him. 

 

“I’M VISITING THE SHRINE YOU HALF-WIT!” Bakugou yelled with annoyance before turning to Inko. “Happy New Year Inko-San,”

 

“Happy New Year Katsuki-Kun,” Inko smiled back tiredly, returning the informal prefix the two were so used to. 

 

“BUT YOU TWO?!” he turned on Midoryia and Yagi, the pair still looking on confused, only heightening Bakugou’s frustration. “ARE YOU TRYING TO GET CAUGHT OUT?! DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO KNOW YOUR RELATIONSHIP?!”

 

“Relationship?” Inko asked, the three turning to her with equal levels of horror. 

 

“He means...” Midoryia started, Yagi placing a hand on his shoulder. 

 

“I’ve been giving Young Midoryia a few extra lessons,” he smiled, the lies about his identity coming easily to him. “His quirk is similar to my own and so with a provisional license under his belt, I thought it would be of use. But I agree Young Bakugou, we should be more careful to keep it out of the public eye,”

 

“Right!” Midoryia cried, stuffing the Otoshidama into his waistline. 

 

“Tch,” Bakugou hissed as he turned on his heel. “My parents want to say hello,” he muttered, getting the attention of Inko who’s eyes were still threatening to spill over. 

 

“Midoryia,” Yagi called, spotting Aizawa, Midnight and Mic over the other side of the shrine. “Go pay your respects with your family, I’ll meet you after,”

 

“But All- Yagi-San, you...” he paused, regaining composure and tapping the place he’d carefully hidden his Otoshidama. “I mean, thank you,” 

 

Yagi ruffled the young boy's hair as he ran off to catch up with his mother and Bakugou. He himself turned and headed in the direction of his colleagues. Midnight saw him first, poking Hizashi who waved him over. 

 

“All Might!” he cried with a grin. “It’s good to see you! I forgot to ask earlier! Are you with family?”

 

“Ah no,” Yagi responded. “They were too old to make the trip this year,”

 

“My parents live too far away nowadays,” Midnight smiled. “Hero work was too heavy to take the time off really, I’ll go for my dad’s birthday in the spring,”

 

“We,ll we can all go arounTOGETHERER!” Hizashi shouted with a grin. A few bypassers turned to look at the commotion. Aizawa tried to stick his head in his capture scarf. 

 

“Brilliant,” he muttered, his voice muffled. “Is this New Years or a faculty meeting?” 

 

“Shota! Don’t be so rude!” Hizashi cried, wrapping an arm around Yagi and drawing him into the group. “New Years is a celebration for family! Chosen or not!” 

 

“Let me guess,” Aizawa growled. “You arranged to come here with Midoryia,”

 

Yagi tried to make eye contact with Aizawa but failed. The younger man hissed in annoyance. 

 

“That it. I’m out of here,” he continued, going to walk away. 

 

“But you haven’t visited the shrine yet!” Midnight called after him. 

 

“I’d be praying for my sanity anyway!” Aizawa cried back. “Because I’m pretty sure I heard an explosion earlier and that means that Bakugou is also here and if Bakugou is here then I’m pretty certain there are a few other first years around as well and I’d like to visit the shrine without having to teach a lesson on it, or have a secondary parents evening or god forbid Otoshidama’s,”

 

Yagi stayed muted. 

 

Aizawa glared. 

 

“You didn’t,” 

 

Yagi shifted his feet, Aizawa striding up to him with annoyance. 

 

“Have you ever heard of professionalism? Or bias? Or favourites?!” he scoulded, not letting Yagi get a word in between. 

 

“For someone who didn’t want this to be a faculty meeting you’re acting awfully teacher-like,” Hizashi commented with a grin, Aizawa turning his pointed finger onto his best friend

 

“You can shut it,” he snapped. 

 

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Yagi said, holding his hands up. “I have intruded on your time together,” 

 

“No, no! Aizawa’s just being a grumpy cat!” Hizashi cried. “We’d love you to stay, wouldn’t we Nemuri?”

 

“Of course,” Nemuri replied, grinning at Aizawa’s annoyance. “The more the merrier,”

 

“Well in that case then, I suggest we all grab something to eat!” Yagi smiled.

 

Aizawa wondered if the man could take a hint. 

 

—

 

Midoryia bowed twice, clapping his hands and bowing once more, his mum and best friend doing the same beside him. Iida was there with Tensei as they turned, their new Omamori charms in their hands. 

 

“We saw Todoroki, Jiro and Yaoyorozu,” Iida smilied. “I invited them over once they were done at the temizuya shrine,” 

 

As if on cue, the trio, with Todoroki’s siblings in tow rounded the corner, Uraraka running up to her friends. 

 

“We would hug you but our hands are wet!” Yaoyorozu called as the teens congrogated, Midoryia turning to his mother. 

 

“Mum, do you still have your hankicheif?” 

 

“I do,” Inko replied, pulling out a cloth and handing it to the trio. 

 

“Thank you!” Jiro cried. “And Happy New Year!” 

 

“You must be Todoroki’s siblings,” Iida quizzed the shy looking Fuyumi and Natsou. “Although I believe there was another,”

 

“Long story,” Fuyumi smiled politely.

 

“Well it’s nice to meet you anyway,” Tensei replied on behalf of Iida, leaning forward to shake their hands. “My name is Tensei Iida, the former pro Ingenium and more importantly, Tenya’s brother,”

 

“Wow, it’s an honour,” Fuyumi said ernestly. 

 

“I find that hard to beleive with Endevour as your father,” Tensei smiled

 

“You should meet him,” Todoroki muttered, Fuyumi looking horrified at her younger brother. Natsou just laughed though, clapping the teenager on the back.

 

“Shoto you’re funny!”

 

“Why do people keep on saying that?”

 

“Hey! Midoryia! Iida!”

 

The group turned to where Kirishima was, Kaminari, Sero and now Ashido in tow. 

 

Uraraka gasped, noticing what was in their hands.

 

“Where did you get that Mochi from?!” she asked with a beaming smile. 

 

“Oh All Might is here!” Sero replied. “He got it for us!”

 

“He did?” Midoryia asked.

 

“Yeah something about ‘proving Aizawa wrong’, Kaminari grinned. “Jeez, I do hope Aizawa-Sensei isn’t here,” 

 

“Happy New Year!” Ashido called across to the group. “Shall we go feed the koi in a bit?”

 

“Oh yeah!” Jiro grinned. “I think I have some spare yen for the vending machine,”

 

“OI! LOSERS!”

 

“That’ll be Bakugou,” Kirishima said with a grin as the group turned to the yell. 

 

“THERE’S MOCHI OVER HERE!”

 

“Mochi?! Yes!” Uraraka cried, turning to her parents. “What time did you want to go home?” 

 

“Spend half an hour with your friends,” Uraraka’s mother replied, Inko nodding in agreement. 

 

“We’re going to be in the stall selling zouni,” Inko smiled. 

 

“Okay!” the teenagers cried as the group of Class 1-A students headed towards where Bakugou was. 

 

—

 

Aizawa shivered as he poured water back over his left hand and then down the ladle before placing it back on the temizuya alongside his parents. 

 

“Are those your students?” Aiya asked. 

 

Aizawa followed his mother’s gaze to where a group of teenagers were, one of them seemingly shouting to the rest, All Might in the centre.

 

“No,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Yes they are!” Junichiro smiled. 

 

“You’re eyesight is getting worse dad,”

 

“And look! There’s Nemuri as well!” Aiya smiled, beginning to walk over. “We must say goodbye to her before we leave. 

 

Aizawa looked over to where his parents were heading, hissing under his breath. It was Class 1-A alright. 

 

“We really don’t have to say goodbye,”

 

“Don’t be so rude Aizawa!” his dad scolded. 

 

“Trust me. I’m saving you,”

 

“Hey! Aizawa-Sensei!” Ashido called, getting the attention of the rest of the students. 

 

Too late.

 

“There you go they are your students,” Aiya smiled at her son. 

 

“Goody,” 

 

“You’re in such a mood today!” Aiya teased. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of Nemuri,” 

 

“Mother please stop talking about that,” Aizawa winced as they drew closer to his class. All of the teens seemed to have Mochi in their hands, Yagi standing in the middle, a plateful in his arms. 

 

“What are you doing?” he asked the former pro who looked up and grinned at him. 

 

“See. I don’t have favourites,” Yagi replied with a smile. “Want one?” 

 

Aizawa was ready to reach over and lunge at his colleague but was interrupted but a huddle of his own students coming up to him and his parents. 

 

“Aizawa!” Aiya smiled. “Introduce us to your class!” 

 

Nemuri winked at him from beside Hizashi. Aizawa gave them a pained expression in return. 

 

“Are you Aizawa-Sensei’s parents?!”

 

“Happy New Year!” 

 

“Do you have any funny stories?”

 

“I love your top!”

 

“Oh wow you look so alike!”

 

“Yeah, if Aizawa didn’t have such long hair!” 

 

Aizawa wondered how this happened with any of his other classes. 

 

He cursed Yagi for bringing about a different meaning of ‘teacher-student relationship’. 

 

And as he watched the teenagers clamour and chat excitedly with his parents and friends he came to the pained but predictable conclusion;

 

2019 wasn’t going to be any different. 

Notes:

The OC’s!

Aiya - name meaning beautiful silk - quirk - much like Aizawa’s capture weapon she can send silk out through her hands which binds a person. I like to think she helped Aizawa master his own support item.

Junichiro - name meaning he who takes - erasure quirk like Aizawa’s

The Japanese!
(I apologise if cultural references are wrong ahhhhhh)

Zouni - Rice soup traditional for New Years
Nengajou - Special New Years Day cards which have lottery numbers on them
Otoshidama - Presents consisting of envelopes with money inside (from ¥3000 - ¥10,000 rising with age)

Chapter 16: Trapped

Summary:

“Midoryia you can’t contact me on a personal phone during a training-“ Aizawa interrupted, infuriated.

But to his surprise, the problem child kept on talking, forcing the pro to listen.

“-We have three injured, located on the west side of the arena, we’re in a no signal zone, co-ordinates 341?”

Aizawa paled. This was bad.

Notes:

Look who dragged herself into 2019 and brought this mess-of-a-fic along with her :)

btw this chapter could also be called Phone Call's pt 2 but I was meant to write the remaining three calls and then this one phone call was like 3000 words whoops sorry - I was trying not to do long chapters but... ah fuck

Sitting in the control room and watching Class 1A complete training exercises was nostalgic to Aizawa. It reminded him of when he used to attend UA. And maybe he was being stupid, years of professional experience on his back adding to his repertoire, but sometimes he really couldn’t believe how stupid teenagers were. 

 

Like Bakugou for instance;

 

Exploding half a building. 

 

Himself and Yagi watched with muted horror as the structure crumbled, hearing it over the tannoy. Luckily, no one apart from the explosive teen was around from what Aizawa could see on the monitor. 

 

He was about to check the heat screens when his phone rang. 

 

Aizawa grabbed it out of his pocket, staring at the unknown number. It wouldn’t be a pro call, he wasn’t on call. It wouldn’t be Nemuri or Hizashi, they were also teaching. 

 

Still in a state of confusion, even Yagi raising an eyebrow at him, he answered. 

 

He could tell who it was just from the breathing. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei its Deku. We’re trapped-“

 

“Midoryia you can’t contact me on a personal phone during a training-“ he interrupted, infuriated.

 

But to his surprise, the problem child kept on talking, forcing the pro to listen. 

 

“-We have three injured, located on the west side of the arena, we’re in a no signal zone, co-ordinates 341?”

 

Aizawa jolted awake, properly this time, moving over to the screens to try and spot his students location. There were four green dots huddled together on the far side of the court. As he zoomed in, his earpiece buzzed off.

 

“Aizawa-Sensei, it’s Jiro. I think there’s been an explosion? I was talking to Kaminari and his line has gone dead,”

 

“It’s okay I’ve got them on,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Permission to go over there?” Jiro asked, buzzing the line back into life. 

 

“Yes. Assess the situation and tell me if I need to call the exercise off,” Aizawa replied, Jiro confirming. “Deku,” he spoke into the phone. “Come in,”

 

“I’m here,” a rough voice replied. 

 

“Who’s with you?” he asked, zooming the cameras on the area. All he could really see was a pile of rubble, there was a building on the far side which had half collapsed inwards. It didn’t look good. It didn’t look stable. 

 

“Bakugou, Kaminari, me and Uraraka,” 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei,” Jiro’s voice came in. Aizawa watched her on the monitor, closing in on the accident. “Call it off. We need some support here, the building’s going to collapse,”

 

“I know,” Aizawa replied, nodding at Yagi, who leaned into the microphone as pressing the assistance button beside him, Recovery Girl waking herself up. “Give me a rundown of injuries,” he spoke into his Nokia. 

 

“Err… Uraraka is unconscious,” there was a steady silence on the line, muffled grunts followed by the scraping of gravel. “Pulse steady, no broken bones, she’s in the recovery position. Bakugou has broken ribs, I’m pretty sure a punctured lung-“

 

“Shut up, I do not,” came the rasp of the explosive teenager but there was a wince in his voice, a tiredness. 

 

“Kaminari is okay, but he’s out, he’s boosting the signal to this phone,”

 

“Can all available, converge on co-ordinates 341-225,” Aizawa heard Yagi’s voice come over the tannoy. 

 

“You said three were injured,” Aizawa pointed out as he launched his capture weapon. “What injuries do you have?”

 

There was a pause, unnecessarily long even for a teenager who was known for trying not to worry others. The line stayed on however, a faint signal buzzing eerily in the background. Aizawa readied himself and set out of the control room down to the training grounds. 

 

“Deku,” Aizawa tried again, earning a worried glance from Yagi as he passed the doorway. “Midoryia. Come in,”

 

He couldn’t use his capture weapon to jump with a phone in his hand. He’d have to run it. 

 

“Sorry. The signal keeps on dropping,” Midoryia lied. “My leg is fractured I think, that’s all,” 

 

“I need you to keep on talking to me,” Aizawa stated as he ran, using the pause to hop over one rooftop, tapping his headpiece into Yagi’s line. “We have support coming to stabilize the remainder of the building but I need you to tell me if you think your safety is compromised,”

 

“More could fall?”

 

There was real panic in the boy’s steady voice. 

 

“It’ll be okay,” Aizawa felt himself lying as well. 

 

“What side?”

 

“What?”

 

“What side would the building fall on? Just in case, I could pull everyone to the opposite side,”

 

“No chance,” Aizawa replied as he hoisted himself onto a vantage point. 

 

“I’d be better off using my quirk, wouldn’t I?” 

 

“It won’t come to that,” 

 

Another wince on the line caused Aizawa to hiss under his breath. 

 

“You’re doing okay kid, how’s everyone else?”

 

“Uraraka... no change. Bakugou needs to stop moving-“

 

Aizawa nearly grinned at the sound of annoyance in the teenager’s voice. There was more gravel scraping across the ground, muted gasps from what Aizawa could only guess was Midoryia trying to muffle the speaker as he moved. 

 

“Kaminari is here,” he finally spoke up. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei,” a familiar voice came over the line. 

 

“Kaminari, report,” 

 

“The signal through the earpieces in jammed in this section yeah? I’m channeling through the phone but I’ve had to connect to a satellite away from the area so it’s... yeah- SHIT-“

 

And the line went dead. 

 

“Yagi what’s happened?” Aizawa asked as he desperately tried to phone back the unknown number. It wouldn’t ring. 

 

“Some of the other half of the building went down,” Yagi replied shortly as Aizawa used the opportunity to launch himself across the buildings 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei!” Ashido’s voice rang through the earpiece. “There’s rubble collapsing on the far side-“

 

More voices overlapped hers; worried shouts and misinformation about the scene from various classmates in 1A. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei! I can’t find Bakugou!”

 

“Half a building’s come down!”

 

“We need help!”

 

“Aizawa-Sensei! Who are you communicating with?” Iida’s voice rang above the others.

 

Thank God for Iida. And thank God for protocol.

 

“Jiro,” he replied hurriedly, shouts coming over the line before finally, it went silent. He tapped back into Yagi. “How far away is Cementos?” 

 

“Five minutes max. Yaoyorozu is creating supports and we have Kaminari providing structure to the main collapse of the building. It’s a no signal area though, so I can’t communicate with them properly,”

 

“Use the tannoy. We need Recovery Girl here!”

 

“Okay-“ 

 

Aizawa was stopped by his phone ringing. He was on the line in seconds. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei,” Midoriya’s voice came over the phone. 

 

“What happened?”

 

“There was a section that fell. No one... was injured but- but we don’t have any space-“

 

“We need some breathing space in here as... as well,” Kaminari’s voice came through, panting. “A hole or... something. It’s getting hard to breathe,”

 

“Bakugou’s not... looking good,” Midoriya spoke again, the pant in his breath sounding labored. 

 

“It’s okay I’m-“

 

“Shota!” Yagi’s voice interrupted. “You’re close to the signal barrier, you’ll lose phone signal,”

 

Shit. 

 

“Turn the block off,”

 

“I’m on it,”

 

“Midoryi-“

 

A scream erupted on the line, it was muted quickly but it came over a piercing noise on the phone but still managed to make Aizawa’s blood run cold. It must have been loud, his earpiece going off in quick succession. 

 

“Aizawa-Kun what was that?” Yagi’s voice called. 

 

“Aizawa!” Jiro buzzed through using the emergency bypass to hop Aizawa’s line across. “We have a problem!”

 

“DEKU?!” Aizawa yelled through the phone, trying to get the kids attention from wherever he’d shoved the phone to muffle his screams. 

 

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay,” Midoryia’s voice suddenly crackled in.  

 

“Aizawa-Sensei?” his earpiece crackled alarmingly. 

 

“Just hold on Jiro,” Aizawa replied, not caring that he was snapping at the poor girl. “Yagi, the signal barrier!”

 

“It’s locked in your user. I need your fingerprint,”

 

“Override it,”

 

“Password?”

 

“Agh! 17824960127,” Aizawa reeled off, forcing himself to slow down, listening to his college punch in the numbers and cursing under his breath. “Midoryia report,”

 

Silence. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei we need help!” Jiro almost shouted in his earpiece. 

 

“Midoryia! Report!”

 

Finally;

 

“I’m fine, some.... debris fell from the ceiling, it hit... it hit my leg,” Midoryia breathed. “Everyone else is… fine,” 

 

“Signal barrier is down!” Yagi called through. Aizawa hopped lines and ran. 

 

“Jiro, what’s going on? I’m on my way,”

 

“We’re trying to get close to the building but the closer we get, the more we upset the rubble on the ground. Are they okay?” 

 

“Move away from the site. Cementos is on his way,,” Aizawa replied, painfully aware his quirk would be useless for this situation. He heard Jiro shout to the others both through the earpiece and in real life as he rounded the corner. “The signal barrier is down,” he called through the phone. “Kaminari you can stop boosting the signal,”

 

The pro was obviously on speaker phone because the line dipped as it re-found the original satellite, coming back into life with the sound of retching. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Kaminari’s voice hissed through the sounds. “I... I overused my quirk,” 

 

“Don’t apologise,” Aizawa replied, thanking God he hadn’t gone dumb instead. 

 

“Bakugou isn’t… doing good,” Kaminari stated before a muffled; “Midoryia stop. I’m the one who can move… Give me the… phone,” 

 

Midoryia evidently and finally complied as the next set of shuffling wasn’t accompanied with noises of pain. 

 

“Bro,” Aizawa heard faintly. “Come on… you have to stay awake.” There was a pause as the phone was brought up to Kaminari’s mouth. “Aizawa, I don’t want… to move him but slouching isn’t doing his… breathing any favors,”

 

“Don’t move him,” Aizawa instructed. 

 

“Okay, oh wait up there’s like… a hole just above him, if I can… reach up I can stick my hand through,”

 

“Don’t do that,”

 

“No it’s okay, there’s like four bars holding the top, so I’d only be moving the rubble,” Kaminari replied, panting. “We could do with some more air,”

 

“Be careful,” Aizawa pleaded, his earpiece buzzing with Yagi’s voice.

 

“Cementos is here, he might even arrive at the scene before you,”

 

“Good, tell him to make the building stable, or at least provide a barrier, we need to get those kids out of there,”

 

“Okay,”

 

“Uraraka’s waking up,” Jiro’s voice sounded through. “I’ve got Midoryia online,” 

 

“Do you want to patch into Midoryia Yagi?” Aizawa asked after a pause. “I’m seconds away,”

 

There was a flutter on the line before;

 

“Yes. Please,”

 

And Yagi’s line cut out. Good. 

 

“Aizawa! I see a hand!” Jiro cried into his ear as he came across the scene. 

 

“That’ll be Kaminari’s. How’s Uraraka?”

 

“Aizawa-Sensei, I think somebody’s found us? Someones… grabbing my hand?” Kaminari was close to second.

 

“That’ll be Jiro,”

 

“Oh. HEY! JIRO?!”

 

Aizawa pulled the phone away from his ear with the shout, thanking fate that he could just about hear the boy in real life as well. 

 

Cementos was putting up concrete walls, Todoroki having covered the remaining area with ice and Kirishima hardening to hold up one beam. The rest of class 1A was moving debris carefully, calling into the pile of rubble, Iida overseeing them. Jiro was crouched to the left, leaning into a small gap. Aizawa strode up to her, kneeling down beside her. 

 

“Uraraka is stable,” Jiro reported as he drew near. “I think confused more than anything,” 

 

Aizawa nodded mutely before shouting into the rubble. “Kaminari,” he called, reaching into his belt for a torch and shining the light into the gap. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei!” a familiar face grinned half-heartedly up at him. His usually yellow hair was coated in dust, a gash above his eyebrow bleeding onto his eye. “Glad you made it,”

 

Aizawa grunted in response. 

 

“We’re going to get you out,” he assured him. “I need a full breakdown of Midoryia’s injuries as well. And a report on Uraraka,”

 

Kaminari looked troubled for a second, glancing back at his classmate before turning to his teacher. 

 

“There’s a huge piece of concrete or something trapping his leg,” the teenager replied quietly. “It’s definitely broken, he’s been moving around with it to go to the others. I think he has concussion as well? I’m not sure,” 

 

The sounds of pain over the phone, the scrapes of gravel. It made sense. Problem child. 

 

“Okay,” Aizawa sighed. “And Uraraka?”

 

“Give me a second,” Kaminari called back, disappearing from view. There was a silence before;

 

“Aizawa-Sensei?” a familiar voice spoke. 

 

“Uraraka,” Aizawa called back. “This is going to come across insensitive. Can you use your quirk?”

 

“I think so...” came the small reply. 

 

“Okay,” Aizawa replied, mind running over the minimal options. “Todoroki! Sero!” he called.

 

The pair turned from where Todoroki was freezing part of the infrastructure, Sero pulling pieces away with a sort of homemade tape pulley system. Aizawa beckoned them over and they left the work to Cementos, running towards where he and Jiro were crouched. 

 

“Can you freeze over this entire top section?” he asked, Todoroki surveying the pile of broken building. 

 

“Probably, yeah,” he replied.

 

“Uraraka,” Aizawa called back down where Kaminari’s hand was creating the tiny opening. “Are you there?” 

 

There was a pause, an uneasy shuffling before;

 

“Yes, I’m here,” 

 

“Todoroki is going to freeze over the entire top of this rubble. I need you to then use your quirk to lift the frozen area off the ground, Sero will then pull it across,”

 

“Okay!” came the reply, fuelled by uneasy determination. Sero gave a thumbs up.

 

“Aizawa-Sensei, a problem,” Kaminari called. “If Todoroki is gunna freeze this bit over I need to move my hand. I’m worried that this bit of the roof will come down, it’s just across from Bakugou’s head,”

 

“I know,” Aizawa sighed. “It’ll have to be quick,”

 

“Aizawa,” Jiro nudged him. “I know you know this but we need to be quick,” she explained to the three of them, her voice low. She had one hand on her earpiece, her face noticeably whiter than before.

 

He felt Todoroki crouch down beside him, leaning into the gap, being careful of where he placed his feet.

 

“I won’t let anything fall on you. I’ll catch it all before it even properly moves,” he spoke softly to his classmates.

 

“You’d… better… not,” Bakugou’s voice spat from underneath them. 

 

God he sounded rough. 

 

“I just need you to move your hand quickly,” Todoroki continued, ignoring Bakugou. 

 

“Do it now,” Aizawa commanded, leaning back slightly, fighting the urge to start biting his fingernails off.

 

“Count of three?” Kaminari asked. 

 

“Three. Two. One, NOW!” Todoroki yelled as Kaminari pulled his hand free with a gasp, the rubble ripping the side of his wrist. Immediately the concrete began to slide but Todoroki was quick, ice sliding from piece to piece, freezing the entire structure solid and stopping just a few inches off of the ground.

 

“Try that Uraraka!” Aizawa called hopefully as he felt the structure move a little. 

 

“There’s a bit stuck to the left,” the girl's voice shouted out.

 

“I see it!” Todoroki was over there in an instance, using his fire to melt the hinge so that Uraraka could finally lift the mound of building from the ground. Sero jumped into the air, using both of his elbows to shoot long lines of tape to wrap around the ice block and the two of them moved it to the side where no one was stood. 

 

“It’s free!” Sero grunted. 

 

“Release!” 

 

There was a crash, a wave of dust and finally, it cleared. The space that was left behind was just under a meter high, housing the battered heroes who all looked worse for wear. 

 

“Aizawa!” Kaminari was the first to shout. His wrists and eyebrow were still bleeding profusely but he’d turned his attention to the nearly unconscious Bakugou. Aizawa hopped down, noting the boy’s blue tinted lips, his breathing mixed with a shallow wheeze. 

 

“Took… your time,” Bakugou hissed. 

 

“Don’t talk,” Aizawa instructed. “How far off is Recovery Girl? Midoryia ask All Might,”

 

“Yes… Aizawa-Sensei,” 

 

Aizawa turned to the sound of the voice, getting a proper look at Midoryia. Uraraka was already crouched next to him, nursing her own head gash half-heartedly, also pale as a sheet. Midoryia however…

 

Kaminari was a right, a giant piece of concrete had trapped his leg, stained red and jagged. The boy himself was sniffing, sobbing, not unlike the problem child himself but still not a nice sight. 

 

“She’s here,” Midoryia replied weakly, shooting his eyes upwards to where the woman was stood. Seconds had passed in what felt like minutes, the rest of class 1A hopping into the creator, helping Recovery Girl in as well to attend to their classmates. 

 

“Bakugou stay awake,” Aizawa commanded as Recovery Girl came beside them. “You’re in so much trouble,”

 

“Not the time!” Recovery Girl scolded as she leant down. “I’ve got him from here,” she assured the pro, who bowed his head, moving over to Midoryia and Uraraka; Ashido and Hagakure taking his place to assist the woman.

 

“Midoryia,” was all Aizawa needed to say, Iida and Sato moving so that the pro could see the green haired boy looking up at him, eyes watery. “Are you okay?” he asked.

 

“Yeah!” Midoryia cheered back through gritted teeth. “I probably shouldn’t have moved…”

 

“No,”

 

“And my breathing feels foggy…”

 

“Right,”

 

“I think I’m probably concussed,”

 

“You think?”

 

“Is Bakugou okay?”

 

“Yes,”

 

“Okay,” 

 

“Midoryia,” Aizawa sighed at the groggy, sobbing, adrenaline-high boy. “You know we need to move this concrete off of your broken leg, yeah?”

 

“Wait its broken?”

 

Aizawa fought the urge to throttle him.

 

“Midoryia,”

 

“I… I might scream,”

 

“Right. Well don’t do it in too high a pitch,”

 

“Okay…”

 

Aizawa gave a nod at Sato, who popped a sugar pill to buff himself up, Midoryia bracing himself as the teen began to lift the concrete block. 

 

He really wished he’d had a chance to plug his ears before Midoryia grabbed his arm, squeezing hard as he screaming, the jagged edges ripping through the mottled skin on his broken leg as it was removed. 

 

It was a sense of relief to know that his class was okay but still… When were teenagers voices supposed to break again? 

 

“Bakugou’s lung is as un-punctured as can be!” Recovery Girl’s sing-song voice came from behind them. “I’ve gotten Kirishima to take him and Kaminari to the infirmary,” 

 

Aizawa turned to see her approach, Midoryia still grappling onto his arm. 

 

“And what do we have here?” she asked, peering down at the green haired boy. 

 

“Ah,” she sighed “You discovered you had legs I see,”

Notes:

Send me prompts plz

love you all x

Chapter 17: Bogies

Summary:

“What is the game?” Todoroki asked pointedly.

“They have to say ‘bogies’ as loud as possible,”

The class looked at Sero.

“That’s a game?” Todoroki asked.

Well this was going to be fun.

Notes:

Thank you so so much to TheValdezTARDIS for this prompt OMG you SAVED my writer's block. This chapter is just a bit of fun after the last chapters angst so I hope you enjoy :D

It was Sero who came up with the idea. He burst into the common room with some enthusiasm, oh, and his laptop. He knocked Bakugou in the process who spilt his tea with a growl.

 

“Guys! I’ve got the sickest idea!”

 

Only Ashido really turned to look at him.

 

“Fuck off, ” Bakugou snapped instead.

 

“What’s the idea?” Yaoyorozu asked, lifting her head slightly from her sewing.

 

“Basically,” Sero started, pushing in the middle of the group on the sofa and shoving his laptop onto the coffee table.

 

“Oi! I can’t see the TV!” Kirishima yelled, a controller in hand, dangerously leaning to one side to try and overtake Sato on the Mario Kart track.

 

“Sero! My threads!” Yaoyorozu was quick to add as most of the contents on the table fell to the floor.

 

“ Fuck off !!” Bakugou yelled.

 

“Basically,” Sero pushed on proudly. “I was doing some extra English work by watching this English TV show-“

 

“I don’t think that’s an effective learning method,” Iida cut in.

 

Sero shrugged.

 

“Also. That’s weird,” Kaminari grinned.

 

“It is not!” Sero cried.

 

“It is. Can you imagine anyone watching Japanese shows to try and learn Japanese?!”

 

“No one bothers to learn Japanese,” Todoroki commented. “That’s why we need to be bilingual in English,”

 

“Especially if we are going to be professional heroes!” Iida cried.

 

“I wouldn’t bother learning English if I didn’t want to be a hero,” Uraraka shrugged causing Iida to have to do a double take

 

“Uraraka-San...” he stuttered.

 

“I learnt most of my English from All Might!” Midoryia beamed, twisting his face into an ‘All Might’ smile, imitating his booming voice in near-perfect English; “Ah..! Fuck!”

 

Most of the class giggled, Iida staring eyes wide. Midoryia looked slightly smug as Bakugou rolled his eyes.

 

“To be fair, the English have some good novels,” Kaminari continued without looking away from the TV screen.

 

“And! Good telly!” Sero added proudly.

 

“Go on then,” Hagakure smiled from behind him, the cushions around Ojiro’s head dipping inwards as she leant towards the screen.

 

“Right! Can I plug it into the TV?” Sero asked, standing up and pulling a lead from his pocket.

 

“No WAIT-!” Sato started to cry but Sero had already pulled the plug, Mario Kart vanishing from the screen.

 

“SERO!” Kirishima yelled, flopping backwards onto Bakugou’s legs.

 

“Fucking-! Mind the tea!” the teen spat. “I don’t want to drop boiling water on your head,” he muttered, Kirishima grinning upwards at the show of muted affection.

 

“It’ll only take a minute,” Sero waved his disgruntled classmates away, plugging the cable into the laptop. The screen buzzed into life showing three British men in some sort of supermarket, the footage seemingly dated and in poor quality, Japanese subtitles at the bottom of the screen.

 

“You have the subs on,” Yaoyoruzu mused.

 

“How can you call this learning?” Iida agreed.

 

“This is, in itself, an education,” Sero grinned wildly.

 

“It’s a game? Ribbit,” Asui asked, as the class settled themselves in for whatever Sero was about to show them.

 

“Right! SO! These two-” Sero pointed to the screen, “-are the presenters, and this guy-“ Sero motioned over to the other man. “-is this dad who’s been challenged to the game,”

 

“What is the game?” Todoroki asked pointedly.

 

“They have to say ‘bogies’ as loud as possible,”

 

The class looked at Sero.

 

“That’s a game?” Todoroki asked.

 

“Just watch and learn!” Sero replied, his enthusiasm not lacking for anyone.

 

“Learn what?” Iida asked.

 

“Not English,” Ojiro grinned as Sero pressed play.

 

And the class watched. And stared. Even Bakugou looked up at the figures on screen. The English guys were seemingly walking around a supermarket, starting to call the word ‘bogies’ at random shoppers.

 

As one of the presenters yelled it in the deli section, Jiro let out a snigger. Iida looked pointedly at her.

 

“What?! It’s kinda funny,” she giggled.

 

And the as the yells of ‘bogies’ got louder, smilies began creeping on the teenagers faces.

 

Kaminari started smothering his laughter in Ojiro’s tail, Midoryia and Uraraka giggling with Yaoyorozu who had left her sewing unfinished. Even Koda was laughing, Tokoyami’s teeth on full show.

 

At the point where one of the presenters screamed the phrase at a carrot , Sero lost it , bursting into laughter and falling to the floor on his knees, most of the class finally letting out their supresseed giggles as well.

 

“Can we watch it again?” Asui asked as the clip finished. Sero held up a hand to stop himself from wheezing.

 

“I think we should play it,” Aoyama grinned from the end of the table.

 

“Yes!” Sero finally managed to make out. “Let’s play it!”

 

“Really?” Yaoyorozu asked tentatively. “Hardly seems appropriate,”

 

“Let’s do it in Aizawa’s homeroom,” Uraraka beamed.

 

“Uraraka..!” Iida stuttered but he was lost to the rest of the classes cheers.

 

“That’s stupid,” Bakugou muttered.

 

“Not everyone has to play if they don’t want to,” Sero assured them. “But come on !”

 

“It would be funny…” Jiro grinned.

 

“I’m in,” Tokoyami replied, Dark Shadow coming out to give a thumbs up.

 

“I’m in as well,” the entity agreed.

 

“We count as one,” Tokoyami added.

 

“We should have a prize as well then,” Shoji added from one of his arms.

 

“Oh like a packet of the winners faverouit biscuits!” Midoryia suggested.

 

“No way would I buy Bakugou’s biscuits,” Jiro stated. “Those things are expensive, not to mention hard to find,”

 

“I’m not playing,” Bakugou hissed.

 

“I don’t really like things sweet,” Aoyama shrugged.

 

“Cheese biscuits would count!” Midoryia smiled.

 

“Hmmmm… I am appeased,”

 

“Nah that’s still a crap prize,” Kaminari stated as Kaminari ran his hands through his hair beside him. “How about the winner get’s to choose a personal slave for the day?”

 

“How’s that going to work?’ Hagakure asked.

 

“Make it a Saturday or something,” Kaminari continued.

 

“I like that,” Ojiro smiled.

 

“Me too,” Uraraka agreed. “Sorry Deku,”

 

“Sorted then!” Kirishima grinned. “Nice one Denki,”

 

“Are we actually going to do this?” Ashido smiled. The class looked around at each other and shrugged.

 

“It would be a dishonourable thing to do as UA students!” Iida yelped.

 

“It doesn’t seem mature,” Todoroki added.

 

“Wellllllll…” Sero grinned. “We can’t help it if someone says ‘bogies’ in homeroom tomorrow can we?”

 

There was a nervous silence.

 

“It won’t be me,” Iida huffed.

 

“Or me,” Todoroki agreed earning a grateful smile from Yaoyorozu.

 

“Or me,” Asui commented. “Play the clip again,” she asked.

 

As Sero did;

 

“I have the best hearing so I’ll be the adjudicator instead,”

 

“Asui!” Iida yelped.

 

—

 

The next day in homeroom the tension was thick. Most of the class were withholding some form of mad, coffee induced excitement, grinning at each other wildly wondering who would get the game going.

 

Aizawa hadn’t noticed, there was more boring school stuff to be done, today’s topic was a questionnaire about their time at UA for a national survey. He’d taken to his sleeping bag ten minutes into the lesson.

 

And for the first quarter of an hour nothing happened. The class completed questions in silence, those finishing turning to extra work or reading. For those uninterested in the topic of bogies it almost became peaceful.

 

“Hey Todoroki,” a voice hissed across the classroom. A handful of heads looked up, smiles creeping across their faces as they noticed it was none other than Sero speaking.

 

Todoroki looked obliviously across at his classmate.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Can you do something for me?” Sero asked, creeping out from his seat, his questionnaire in hand.

 

“What?” Todoroki replied innocently as Sero turned the paper round in the boys direction.

 

“Can you read this out?” Sero asked the unassuming Todoroki.

 

Koda signed ‘no’ wildly, Yaoyorozu looking up in worry, Ashido and Aoyama grinning, Iida’s arms waving dramatically.

 

“What?” Todoroki asked, peering at the writing, completely oblivious to all of his classmates reactions. “It says bogies-“ he read. “Oh you fucking moron,”

 

Iida headbutted the table

 

The game was on.

 

Not that Aizawa knew of course.

 

There was a sense of unease in the class from that moment on, Sero grinning from his seat. Asui scribbled down on her notepad before presenting it to her left, in the boys direction.

 

It read ‘0.5’.

 

“It’s out of ten,” she mouthed.

 

Todoroki went red.

 

“What happened?” Midoryia asked, having been lost in his muttering.

 

“He said ‘bogies’,” Sero grinned.

 

Some more scribbling produced a ‘0.9’ from Asui.

 

“What? Bogies ?” Midoryia asked pointedly as he caught on.

 

Bakugou made a show of plugging his ears.

 

‘1.2’

 

“Yes. Bogies,” Sero replied.

 

‘1.4’

 

“Bogies?” Kirishima asked.

 

‘2.3’

 

“ Bogies ,” Sero replied.

 

‘2.5’

 

“Bogi-?!” Uraraka started.

 

“ Stop talking,” Aizawa snapped from the front. “What are you saying anyway? Bogies ?”

 

Some of the class started giggling as Ausi held up a ‘3.9’.

 

“Is he even playing?” Ashido whispered.

 

“He is now,” Asui grinned.

 

“OH YES! We’re saying ‘BOGIES’!” Sero cried to his teacher in the loudest voice respectfully possible.

 

Asui snorted as she quietly held up a ‘5.2’.

 

Aizawa just stared at Sero with a look a mix of worry and anger, his nose flared.

 

“I’ll stop now...” Sero added sheepishly, going to sit down.

 

“Yes. Yes you will,” Aizawa growled.

 

And so class continued. Some of 1-A just tried to block out the game going on around them, Iida’s face was so close to his planner his glasses were sliding down his nose, Yaoyorozu kept on glancing up at the class and Todoroki just looked pissed off.

 

So did Bakugou but that was nothing new.

 

The class continued on in relative silence. There were a few attempts to beat the set record of 5.2 but they were all met with failure, eliminating classmate after classmate.

 

It was easier once the class had realised Aizawa had fallen asleep.

 

“How loud do you think we can go before we wake him?” Kirishima asked with a grin.

 

“Lets find out,” Sero grinned.

 

“Let’s not,” Yaoyorozu pained but it was too late.

 

“BOGIES”

 

“5.4” Asui commented.

 

Aizawa didn’t stir.

 

“BOGIES!” Midoryia was next to try.

 

“Midoryia!” Iida winced.

 

“Yes Deku!”

 

“5.7”

 

“BOGIES!!!” Kirishima grinned.

 

“5.6. You’re out,” Asui replied.

 

“What?!” Kirishima asked.

 

“If you say it quieter than the last person then you’re out,” Asui replied with a shrug. “Am I right?”

 

“Yeah!” Sero smiled. “Did you watch more clips?”

 

“Maybe…”

 

“BOOGIES!” Sato tried.

 

“5.7. You’re still in!” Asui cried.

 

“Come on guys! Step it up!” Ashido cried, getting up from her chair to shout;

 

“BOGIESSS!”

 

And that’s when Aizawa finally stirred, reaching for his capture weapon.

 

“What the.!?” he started, sitting up.

 

“Sorry Aizawa-Sensei!” Ashido called in a sing-song voice. “I sneezed,”

 

Asui went back to writing, holding up a ‘6.8’.

 

Ashido looked smugly, sticking her tongue out at the boys beside her.

 

That was until-

 

“BOOOGIES!”

 

The class and Aizawa whipped around to see Dark Shadow poking from Tokoyami’s chair.

 

“My God I just cannot control him today,” Tokoyami said with a deadpan sarcasm.  

 

Aizawa’s eye twitched.

 

“Come, Dark Shadow,” Tokoyami beckoned, a small grin appearing on his face. “Don’t be so rude. Save the English for Present Mic,”

 

“Mic...” Aizawa growled.

 

Asui held up ‘7.8’ behind Aizawa’s back, causing Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari and the rest of the playing class 1-A to groan.

 

“Tokoyami is a beast!” Sato mused, Ojiro nodding.

 

—

 

With Aizawa awake again, the classes ‘bogies’ attempts slowed. Tokoyami and Dark Shadow were still the reigning champions but there was still twenty minutes of the lesson left.

 

All to play for.

 

Or so they thought.

 

“Has everyone finished the sheet?” Aizawa asked dimly, ten minutes before homeroom ended. The class looked around at there teacher who was seemingly getting out of his sleeping bag.

 

“All the classes sheets are filled out and in alphabetical order,” Iida cried, standing from his place.

 

“Lovely,” Aizawa replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm that Iida couldn’t catch. “Right I have a meeting, so I’m giving you an early break before your English class, although I wouldn’t be surprised if Mic turns up early,”

 

Aizawa couldn’t quite grasp why, for the first time, his class looked as if they were upset - no panicked - that class was coming to an early finish. They seemed to be looking at one another in a wild manner, eyes crossing quickly towards Tokoyami.

 

“Class is ending early!” Asui suddenly hissed, spurring the students into action. Suddenly Shoji’s dupli-arms started springing out of nowhere, creating mouth after mouth after mouth, cascading into the air. Jiro followed suit, pulling a speaker out of her bag and slamming it down onto the table in front of her, plugging her earphones in. Dark Shadow rallied himself up but as he did a flock of birds suddenly appeared at the window, Koda muttering under his breath at them.

 

Aizawa looked up from curling his sleeping bag in disarray, eye falling on Yaoyorozu who was creating a pair of matching earphones for both her and Todoroki.

 

“What is going on?!” Aizawa asked, a little too quietly, awear he was missing something. But without being able to erase the heteromorphic quirks of his class, rendered him in for the same treat the rest of the class was about to endure.

 

Yaoyorozu and Todoroki snapped their headphones over their ears.

 

Bakugou shoved his head into his arms.

 

There was a split second of silence, the boys all looking at each other before;

 

“BOGIESSSS!!!” Shoji, Jiro and Tokoyami yelled at once, staring at each other with wild looking in their eyes.

 

“SQUARK SQUARK SQUARK SQUARK!!!” a flock of birds added.

 

Asui paused for a moment before pointing at Jiro as the winner.

 

“9.8,” she announced

 

“Yes-!” Jiro began to cry.

 

“WHAT THE HELL IS-?!” Aizawa screamed at his class as Hizashi walked through the doorway.

 

“I hear my listeners! YEAHHHHHH-AGHH!” he cried as Aizawa pinned him to the doorframe.

 

“Hizashi I swear to God,” he snapped under his breath. “What have you been teaching them?”

 

“Oh! Verbs, nouns, pronouns-“

 

The grip on Hizashi’s collar grew tighter.

 

“Looks an awful lot like you’re losing it Shota,” Mic grinned from beneath his best friend alluding to the fact that they were still very much in front of the impressionable teenagers. “And here’s me thinking you were ace,”

 

“There’s a flock of birds outside my window attempting to shout ‘ bogies ’” Aizawa snapped, Hizashi craning his neck to see.

 

“Oh!” he cried, surprised. “So there is!”

 

“Don’t act all surprised,” Aizawa hissed.

 

“I am! This wasn’t me!” Hizashi laughed as his best friend loosened enough for the man to duck out of his gap. “Woah, you’re class sure are creative Aizawa!” he cried, shooting finger guns.

 

“ They sure are ,” Aizawa murmured frighteningly, giving his twenty kids evils.

 

“What were they shouting again?” Hizashi asked.

 

“I don’t know! Bogies?!” Aizawa replied in annoyance.

 

“OH YEAH!!” Hizashi yelled, his quirk activated. “BOOOGIEEESSS!!!!!”

 

The sound blew away any attempts previous, this time forcing the class to plug their ears, the sound waves causing a wind that blew the sheets on Iida’s desk away.

 

Jiro’s face fell.

 

“Why were you shouting that?” Hizashi asked once he was done. Kirishima was busy fixing his hair from the wind.

 

“How does yours stay?!” he hissed to Aoyama.

 

“Why it’s natural,” the blonde head replied.

 

“Bullshit,”

 

“The alphabetical order!” Iida muttered.

 

“That’s it,” Aizawa snapped as he picked up his sleeping bad and worksheets. “I’m out,” he announced bitterly, defeated. “Enjoy whatever… this is,”

 

“I will!” Hizashi winked at his best friend. “So..?” he asked 1-A as their homeroom teacher left.

 

“Well it’s undeniable he won,” Asui confirmed, writing a ’10’ and holding it up as proof.

 

“Oh! What did I win?” Hizashi asked with a grin.

 

The class turned to look at each other, eyes wide.

 

Oh no.

Notes:

I'm thinking drunk Hizashi next - yay or nay?

Chapter 18: The Fourth Phone Call

Summary:

I was going to do drunk Hizashi I swear! And then things got dark... XD

--

Bakugou's trapped, no backup, no way out and a pounding in his head.

Oh and it happened to be the night Aizawa was on patrol.

Becuase if a villain wasn't going to kill him, his homeroom teacher surely would.

Notes:

I know I said that I was doing some fun, light and happy chapter and then...

Yeah idk what happened XD but this chapter is my darkest yet, and in two parts... Although the next part will be up in the next couple of days so you won't have to wait too long :)

MINOR SPOILERS (I basically mention the UA student Kirishima ends up working with in season four)

WARNING - graphic description of strangulation (honestly I was in some sort of mood this week I stg)

I apologise in advance

Katsuki Bakugou wished a lot of things. 

 

He wished he’d never become Kirishima’s friend. That all the students at UA were stupid and unforgiving elitists that were only there to hurt and be hurt. 

 

Numbers on a ranking board were easier to beat when they didn’t have emotions behind them. 

 

Annoyingly, in contrast, he wished Kirishima didn’t have any other friends either. Competing for number one hero was a piss take compared to competing for number one friend.

 

He wished that Midroyia had never been born. Or if he had, been born with some stupid lame quirk halfway across the other side of the world in a third world country where there were no dreams or aspirations for him to aspire to.

 

And he hated that Deku was now the name of a hero. On record. On a hero society system somewhere, printed on a license.

 

He wanted to be pleased that Red Riot was. 

 

But he couldn’t. 

 

But most of all, he really wished that the one night he’d decided to sneak off into the streets of Tokyo, hadn’t been the night Aizawa was on patrol.

 

Okay, it wasn’t as if he’d deliberately broken the rules. He’d gotten a pass to go to the nearest shops. Class 1A needed some essentials and Bakugou needed air. 

 

Problem was, that was over an hour ago. He’d been annoyed, pissed off, finding himself walking down alleyways and cutting corners until finally, he’d landed at a park. Swimming aimlessly until dusk, he had been planning to run back, collect the groceries and make up some half-assed excuse for Vlad King. 

 

Instead, he’d gotten himself confused and now he was fucked. 

 

Like really fucked. 

 

And Vlad King wasn’t going to notice he wasn’t back in Aizawa’s absence. 

 

Seemingly none of them had. 

 

Which was fine. 

 

The villain who’d ambushed him in the side street used one hand to wipe away the blood from the corner of his mouth, spitting onto the alleyway they faced one another on. Taunting him. 

 

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Bakugou yelled. He could already hear a tremor in his voice. He growled, dangerously low in an attempt to curb his stupid fears. 

 

It was Kirishima’s fault, he decided. He had to go and piss him off like that. Hang out with Amajiki or whatever. 

 

Taken off guard and sluggish with what seemed most likely to be exhaustion, Bakugou nearly didn’t have time to dodge the villains swing at him, narrowly avoiding an overpowered fist - something to do with his quirk probably. 

 

“You won’t get the chance. Katsuki Bakugou,” the man growled as the wind whistled past the teenagers face from the force of the avoided blow. 

 

So he knew his name. His full name. Which meant the man had a motive. 

 

Bakugou wasn’t about to be kidnapped again that was for sure. 

 

He was about to retaliate when the other fist followed through, the villain's body hardly twisting, even from the full force of Bakugou’s own punch. 

 

He would use his quirk but he had no provisional license. Breaking the rules would be admitting self defense. And Bakugou had too much of an ego to call this half-arsed fight, self defence. 

 

But the villain knew his name. 

 

He didn’t want to be kidnapped again however much of a stretched conclusion that was. 

 

The force of the explosion from his hands was a testament to how annoyingly terrified he was, sweat trickling across his palms, crackling under the heat of the closed proximities. 

 

There was the usual almighty pressure, a ringing in Bakugou’s ears and suddenly he found himself flying towards the ground, the punch from his attacker making its mark. 

 

He put his hands in front of himself just in time to hit the ground, skidding along the pavement. He pushed himself up immediately, ignoring the sting of broken skin along his palms. 

 

“What the fuck-AGHH-?!” he started before a hand had grabbed his throat, pushing him back against the bricks and squeezing. Hard-

 

—

 

-Todoroki awoke with a start, sitting up in his bed shivering. As he breathed out, the air in front of him dewed into a white mist. 

 

He’d done it again. 

 

He’d frozen his room. 

 

With a sigh he cracked the thin sheet of ice covering his legs, hooking them over the covers and pulling the bed sheet back. The nightmare was starting to fade, only a distant face left in his memory. The usual. 

 

Still. Something felt off. 

 

Todoroki activated his quirk to melt the ice off of the wall. Luckily UA had made the furnishings fire retardant but it did nothing to stop the copious amount of water that was currently soaking into his futon. 

 

He might have to go get Aizawa. 

 

He looked at the clock reading 21:47 and mused that it wouldn’t be a bad time to go get his teacher. He doubted many people were even asleep yet, but annoyingly realised it was Vlad King in charge of them. 

 

That was fine just... awkward. He liked the fact that Aizawa already knew them, Todoroki never had to explain himself past ‘I had a nightmare’, besides it was usually Bakugou who was up by now, shouting that ‘his room was cold’ and that Todoroki ‘should just get some damn therapy or someth-‘

 

Oh. 

 

That’s what felt off. 

 

The cold water hit Todoroki’s feet as he arrived at the present, the tired grogginess of only being asleep for half an hour wearing off quickly. 

 

Bakugou was at least in his own room at this time of night. Sometimes with Kirishima, sometimes asleep, but there enough to notice the sudden change in temperature from the room directly above him. 

 

Unless this time it hadn’t been too bad? 

 

Todoroki looked around his moonlit room. 

 

Okay, it was bad. 

 

A knock at the door curbed his fears for a second before he remembered that Bakugou didn’t knock, more blasted. Nevertheless, he was still a little hopeful until he opened the door to Sero, shivering in sweatpant shorts and a thin hoodie. 

 

“Hey Todoroki you okay?” he asked sheepishly as Sato opened his own bedroom door to the left of them, hanging in the doorway, looking pretty similar to Sero. “Nightmare?” he prompted. 

 

“Err... yeah...” Todoroki replied awkwardly, his eyes narrowed in confusion. 

 

“Do you want me to get Aizawa?” Sero asked, looking at Sato for the confirmation Todoroki clearly wasn’t portraying. 

 

“He’s on patrol,” Todoroki replied, stepping outside the room and closing the door. “Where’s Bakugou?” 

 

“Oh yeah I forgot about that,” Sero mused. “I dunno,” he replied. “Why?”

 

Todoroki sighed, making his way to the end of the corridor towards the staircase. 

 

“Aren’t you glad he’s not blowing your head off?” Sero continued with a forced laugh. 

 

“Todoroki what’s wrong?” Sato asked as the two followed the teen down the stairs. 

 

“I don’t know,” he replied, reaching the fourth floor and approaching Bakugou’s room. He knocked loudly and waited, pacing from foot to foot, his wet feet creating marks on the wooden floors. 

 

“Dude, are you asking for it?” Sero asked, a hand moving to his elbow in discomfort.

 

Todoroki ignored him and knocked again. 

 

“He should have woken up,” he muttered as he turned the handle, much to the protests of his classmates and pushed his way in, flicking the light on. 

 

The room was empty. Half done homework left on the desk and the bedsheets still vaguely made. The ceiling was covered in frost, water dripping from the damp. 

 

“Holy shit Todoroki,” Sero commented. “Nightmare that bad?” 

 

But Todoroki had already flicked the light off closing the door behind him and making his way to the room beside Bakugou’s. 

 

“Maybe he’s just downstairs,”

Sato tried to reassure the worked up teenager. 

 

Kirishima opened the door a second later, flicking one headphone off his ear. 

 

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, catching the expression on the trio’s faces. 

 

“Are you with Bakugou?” Todoroki asked, looking past Kirishima and into his room. 

 

“No... why? What did he do?” Kirishima asked. “Are you okay?” 

 

“No. I had a nightmare,” Todoroki replied shortly. “Bakugou didn’t wake up. He’s not in his room,” 

 

“Oh... well he said he was going out to get some milk and then go to bed, like-“ 

 

Kirishima twisted himself around to grab his phone off his desk. 

 

“-an hour and a half ago?” he finished, holding up the screen. “No missed calls or anything,” 

 

No sooner had Kirishima finished his sentence, Todoroki had turned on his heel, walking back towards the stairs. 

 

“He’d call if anything was up,” Kirishima yelled in his direction but put his shoes on regardless following Todoroki alongside Sero and Sato to the common area. “He hasn’t been active on group chats for over an hour,” he continued, his tone a little less light. 

 

“Midoryia!” Sato cried, spotting the green haired teen next to Uraraka and Iida as they entered the common area. Midoryia twisted round, yawning, textbook in hand, giving Sato an awkwardly placed wave. 

 

“Have you seen Bakugou?” Todoroki asked, his eyes drifting from the group. 

 

“Kacchan? No...” Midoryia asked, Uraraka raising an eyebrow. 

 

“What’s up?” she asked. 

 

“Well he went out like nearly two hours ago and he hasn’t come back,” Kirishima replied, the consequence of what he was saying finally sinking in. 

 

“At least we can’t find him,” Sero added. 

 

“That’s weird,” Midoryia commented. 

 

“Have you let Vlad King know?” Iida asked the group who shook their heads. 

 

“We only just found out now cause of Todoroki,” Sero replied. 

 

“Hey, ribbit. What’s going on?” 

 

The group turned to where Asui and Yaoyorozu stood, in pajamas, their arms wrapped around them for warmth. 

 

“We heard something going on and we tried to knock on your door Todoroki but there’s water coming from your room?” Yaoyorozu questioned worriedly. 

 

“We can’t find Bakugou,” Todoroki interrupted her. 

 

“We should contact Vlad King,” Iida reasoned. “See if he returned,” 

 

“I’ll go,” Kirishima muttered before running off. 

 

“Are you sure he’s not just sulking somewhere?” Asui asked, a webbed finger pointing up to her chin. 

 

“He would have exploded about the room by now,” Sero winced. 

 

“I’ll do a run round,” Iida suggested, pacing off. Uraraka nodded and went to follow him as Ashido and Shoji appeared from the stairs. 

 

“What’s happening?” Ashido asked, getting no reply. 

 

“What did he go out to get?” Midoryia asked. 

 

“Milk,” Yaoyorozu replied. “It was me who asked for it after Hagakure used the last bit…”

 

Todoroki made no hesitation to stride up to the fridge, yanking the door open and sighing under his breath. 

 

“There’s milk in here,” he stated, Yaoyorozu peering in as well. 

 

“Yeah that’s the one I asked for,” she confirmed. 

 

“Who missing? Bakugou?” Shoji asked, catching onto the conversation. 

 

“So he’s okay?” Sato asked as he nodded to Shoji and Ashido. 

 

“Must be!” Sero replied. “He’ll just be hanging somewhere in dorms. We may even have time to clean up his room before he gets back!”

 

“Was there a leak?” Yaoyorozu asked, Todoroki shaking his head. 

 

“Nightmare?” Asui guessed. Todoroki nodded quickly, opening the fridge back up and picking up the milk. 

 

“He’s not here!” Uraraka called as she reappeared in the common area with Iida and most of the rest of Class 1-A in tow. 

 

“Outside then?” Asui asked. 

 

“There’s milk in the fridge!” Sero called pointing at Todoroki. “So he must have come back,” 

 

“Thank Goodness!” Iida cried. 

 

“Something’s not right...” Todoroki muttered, pacing back towards the group, milk in hand. 

 

“Todoroki,” Midoryia asked, placing a scarred hand on his friend's forearm, taking Todoroki by surprise. “Did you have a nightmare about Bakugou-?” 

 

Todoroki was about to reply when Vlad King strode into the common room, followed by an anxious looking Kirishima. 

 

“He’s not here?” the pro asked quickly. The group shook their heads. 

 

“He’s not on the CCTV,” Kirishima whispered to Sero, Sato and Midoryia, eyes fearful. 

 

“He brought the milk back,” Yaoyorozu spoke up. “So he must have returned,” 

 

“What’s the date?” Todoroki asked. 

 

“He’s logging back into the building as well,” Vlad King confirmed. “But the CCTV shows no sign of anyone entering,” 

 

“That’s odd,” Asui commented. 

 

“Maybe there’s a secret entrance?” Ashido asked. 

 

“That’s very Bakugou,” Sero grinned. 

 

“What’s the date?” Todoroki repeated ignoring the rest of Class 1-A.

 

“The eighteenth? I think?” Sato offered. 

 

“Yeah, it is,” Uraraka smiled. 

 

“The milk’s the wrong date,” 

 

“Todoroki..?” Midoryia asked quietly. 

 

“The milk’s the wrong date,” Todoroki repeated, louder this time, catching the attention of the rest of his classmates and Class 1-B’s teacher. “It’s for the nineteenth,”

 

“What? That’s in date..?” Sero asked, confused. 

 

“By a day,” Todoroki replied. “Less than a day in fact. Two hours,”

 

“It would be inconsiderate for somewhere to sell milk about to go off date...” Shoji mused. 

 

“So? Bakugou got shit milk,” Ashido sighed before placing a hand over her mouth, noticing Vlad King’s raised eyebrow. 

 

“Or this milk was bought days ago...” Iida finished the sentence off, letting the implication hang in the air. 

 

“I’m calling Aizawa,” Vlad King spoke steadily. “Two of you go and contact the other teachers. Go together and stay together,” 

 

Kirishima and Midoryia were the first to put up their hands, running towards the direction of the lift. 

 

“Tell the principle that there’s a student missing and a potential infiltration to the security systems. Get backup,” 

 

“Infiltration..?” Yaoyorozu echoed, Midoryia and Kirishima nodding and running off. 

 

Vlad King hit ‘dial’ on his phone. 

 

—

 

Aizawa was crouched on top of a large industrial building when he felt his phone buzz. Grabbing it out of his pocket he was surprised for once to recognise the number, Kan’s name flashing up on the screen. He loosened the capture weapon from his neck, adjusting his glasses before taking the call.

 

“Vlad,” 

 

“Aizawa we have a security breach at UA,”

 

Aizawa felt himself tense, he was still surveying the area but his focus was on the call, his mind running through the possibilities-

 

“Is anyone hurt?”

 

“No. But Bakugou’s missing,”

 

“He’s missing?” 

 

Aizawa felt his tone darken, adrenaline heightening as his legs twitched, begging to move from their usual watchpoint. 

 

“What do you mean he’s missing?” he repeated. 

 

“He was allowed to go to the convenience store and get milk-“

 

“How long ago?” Aizawa asked, caving in, already changing direction from his usual route. 

 

“Two hours-”

 

“And you didn’t notice?!” he heard himself snap down the line. 

 

“He’s been reported as back in the building but there’s no record of it on the CCTV and no ones seen him,” Vlad King replied, his voice hard against Aizawa’s accusative tone. “There’s even new milk in the fridge but the date’s off…” 

 

There was a pause in Vlad King’s tone, a shift as he moved away from who Aizawa could only guess was his own students. 

 

“Something’s not right Shota. This was planned. Someone got in,”

 

Aizawa hissed under his breath, leaping across the next building and hopping onto the telephone wire, skating down the main roads as he switched his Nokia onto Bluetooth.

 

“If this has anything to do with the league, Bakugou’s in trouble,” Aizawa stated down the line. “I’ll make my way around the area. Keep the rest of the students safe,”

 

“There’s extra security here and the police have been notified,” Vlad replied. “No-one else is getting in or out I assure you,”

 

Aizawa was about to reply when he felt his phone go off again. He looked down at the caller, an unknown number and narrowed his eyes. 

 

It could be nothing. 

 

And yet.

 

“I’m putting you on hold,” Aizawa replied, not letting Vlad answer before switching calls. “Hello?”

 

Nothing. Silence. 

 

And then.

 

There was the shuffling of feet, a muffled voice and an explosion. Two explosions, three, in quick succession, then they receded, growing faster in pace and stopping again. 

 

Aizawa listened, stopping on top of an electricity pole to think, hone in on the sounds. 

 

There was something about the patterns, the way they periodically shifted pace.

 

It was a message. 

 

Aizawa took in as much as he could before switching lines.

 

“Vlad I need back up. UA back up,” he spoke quickly, the phone being picked back up the other end, commotion coming through loud and clear. “I’ve found Bakugou,” 

 

—

 

Bakugou felt his eyes strain from the pressure as he fired his palms in the direction of his assaulter. He fucked up the order, head fuzzy and pounding, straining as he tensed his hands, firing again and again. His skin burnt from the chemicals, the blood from his cuts boiling from the flames. 

 

There was a moment the villain loosened his grip, Bakugou gasping for breath before it returned, with more force, pushing the teenager down the wall as his legs buckled. 

 

He was stupid for needing backup. Bakugou would not need backup. 

 

He thrashed against the villain, his hands clawing to his throat, explosions flying to the wall behind him. The figure didn’t speak but hissed under his breath as the odd spark caught his trouser leg. There was a cold look in his eyes, his first overpowered and muscular compared to the rest of his body, barely straining under the teenager's fight.

 

“Just go already…” his attacked hissed under his breath, his tone uneven, rough. “Stop fighting… Bakugou,”

Bakugou’s vision started to swarm, his eyes bulging, bright lights filling the space in his head. He couldn’t think. He didn’t know what to do except try and breathe. His throat felt clogged by his own muscles, his veins expanding under the pressure, the blood rushing back from his brain with nowhere to go.

 

“That’s it…” the voice drooled softly, a wet lip brushing against the top of Bakugou’s earlobe, the hushed noise sending pain shooting through his head.

 

A hero didn’t not know what to do. 

 

But he wasn’t a hero.

 

Bakugou’s eyes cried and bulged as he felt something pop just above his temple, his vision in his left eye beginning to blacken. He felt something wet trickle down his face and with horror tasted metal on the corner of his swelling lips. 

 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. 

 

Oh God. His eye. 

 

He screamed, making no sound, feeling the pressure on his neck grow tighter, the blood filling his mouth as he tried to focus on where the moisture was coming from. 

 

“Nearly… there,”

 

He could feel his heartbeat reverberating through his skull. He tried to focus on it, to bring him back to reality but it hurt to think, his blood vessels straining against the villain's grip, pushing under the adrenaline, threatening to rip, explode. 

 

He couldn’t focus, it was like he was under some sort of fog.

 

He caught himself with his own quirk, the flames catching his track pants alight, the skin beneath scorching and weeping. The sharp pain almost comforting as bright lights dazzled his right eye, the left a haze of red and black. 

 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. 

 

He tried crying out again but he couldn’t speak, his throat was full of spit and tight, tighter than he could imagine. His gag reflex started up, pushing the spit to the back of his mouth. A stomach-churning metallic scent hit his nose as what Bakugou had imagined being spit was really blood...

 

It was the sludge fight all over again. He was going to die. He was really going to die. He was going to die weak. 

 

“I’ll kill you,” the villain taunted, his own words firing back at Bakugou like a confirmation.

 

The pain in his head became excruciating. A colossal explosion going off inside his own brain.

 

He wanted to die. Anything, anything but this. 

 

With a pop just above his right temple his vision swarmed and then went black. 

 

There was no relief. No flashback of his life. No calm. 

 

The last thing Bakugou felt was pain. 

 

 

 

But the last thing he expected was to wake up. 

Chapter 19: The Fourth Phone Call pt2

Summary:

He stopped.

He didn’t know what to do.

Then more shouts, words Bakugou could understand.

“RUN!”

So he did.

Notes:

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE WHILST I GOT TO PART TWO !!!

I understand this took a long time ahhhh - Fight scenes are incredibly hard to write for me and I'm also apologising in advance if this chapter feels a little redundant in places! I tried my utmost but I could still stand to improve and I know it !!

Thank you for all your continued support on this little work! It means so much to me x

“This is fucking stupid. Fucking stupid,”

 

“Kirishima...” 

 

Midoryia was at a loss of what to say. The red-head next to him was shoving on a jumper in the corridor of floor three, Sero attempting to help him, Todoroki off to one side, looking as awkward as Midoryia felt. 

 

The entire class had been instructed to get dressed and head outside to the main assembly point along with the rest of UA and all of the faculty members. They weren’t allowed to contact anyone outside of UA and for some reason they weren’t allowed to eat or drink. Vlad King had left to go and organise Class 1-B, leaving 1-A with Iida in charge. 

 

Midoryia shifted from one foot to the other watching Kirishima struggle with a jumper arm, grunting in annoyance. He ended up pulling his phone out and using his mobile data to bring up a live news site. 

 

The rest of the UA communications had been cut off. 

 

“I don’t get it,” Kirishima continued to spit, his head poking through the hole as he pulled the jumper down. “We should be going to help!” 

 

“There’s been a massive villain attack in Chiba prefecture...” Midoryia interrupted, the others leaning forwards as he showed them his screen. 

 

“Connected?” Sero asked the group. 

 

“It’s requiring a lot of pros to get it under control... I don’t know. Could be,” Midoryia replied. 

 

“It’s too big of a coincidence!” Kirishima said defiantly. “There’s even been sights of Nomu’s- FUCK’s sake!”

 

“Dude! Chill!” Sero cried desperately. “There’s nothing you can do so just calm down. You panicking isn’t helping anything,”

 

“But there is something I can do! We can do! We can go save him!” 

 

There was an awkward pause followed by shared looks between the rest of the boys. Kirishima growing in impatience. 

 

“Why not?!”

 

“It would be exactly like last time,” Midoryia protested softly. 

 

“Exactly. Bakugou would be saved,” Kirishima replied, grabbing Midoryia by the shoulders, his voice rising in volume, his grip tightening. “You know we’d be good out there! We helped save Eri! If I can’t go out there and help save Bakugou I can’t call myself a man. I can’t call myself a hero! You know what that means to me! To you! You know what that would do to your conscience-!”

 

“He KNOWS!” Todoroki finally yelled, pushing Kirishima off of Midoryia. Hard. 

 

Sero and Midoryia turned to look at the teen, still shivering from the delayed after-effects of his nightmare. Kirishima stayed staring at the ground. 

 

“But look,” Todoroki continued, pointing in the direction of the window. “This is different. We’ve identified that this came from UA. You go running off and you’re just going to look suspicious,” 

 

“Like I care!” Kirishima cried, not backing down. 

 

“The last thing anyone needs is to think two students have gone missing,” Todoroki replied coolly, looking down on Kirishima as much as physically possible. “Don’t. Be stupid,”

 

“Who are you calling-“

 

“Guys-“ Sero started. 

 

“Where are you four?!” the boys heard Iida’s cry from down the stairs. “We need to go!”

 

Kirishima released his grip and bowed his head before looking over Midoryia’s shoulder and shouting his reply.

 

“I was locking my door!” he lied. 

 

This time he didn’t wait for anyone’s reply before pulling past them. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. 

 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Sero sighed. 

 

“I will,” was the only reply he got before Kirishima disappeared down the stairs. Sero tried to catch Todoroki’s eyes but he’d already looked down, walking away. 

 

Midoryia looked back at the news report flashing on his phone. A feeling started in the pit of his stomach. An ache that he couldn’t quite place...

 

The feeling that he should be there. 

 

—

 

Aizawa honed his senses onto the explosions down the phone line, furiously trying to copy the location coordinates into his head. He scanned his surroundings trying to work out where he was in comparison. 

 

From where he’d perched himself, he could see the looming building of UA behind him, the sounds of fighting; heavy artillery and shouting; to his left and the dull lights of a convenience store directly in front. 

 

The explosions were getting slower, the wabun code Bakugou was trying to convey, easier to hear but distant, lacking the urgency it held before. 

 

Aizawa’s body ached to move, his situation growing more desperate as he forced himself to still. To wait. Just long enough to- 

 

Cracked it. 

 

Just as Bakugou’s explosions ceased.

 

51° 15' 59.544" N. 

 

Minutes from UA.

 

Aizawa threw his capture weapon upwards and hooked it back onto the telephone wires above using it to propel himself in his newfound direction. Switching calls back onto Vlad King. 

 

“Kan,” he said quickly.

 

“Aizawa,” the reply came moments later. 

 

“Tell Nezu. He’s close to UA. A side street off of Block Twelve?”

 

“Okay, there’s a rescue squad being formed, mostly made of students however. They’ll be ten minutes, max. Keep your tracker on. We’re under lockdown,”

 

“Good,”

 

Aizawa hung up, listening back on Bakugou’s line for something. Anything.

 

He wasn’t stupid. He knew there was more to it. His alerts were going off by the second, all assistance requested to the Chiba Prefecture, voices flicking through his earpiece, alerts he was ignoring, voices he was putting off. 

 

He was relying on Nezu hacking into his phone. He’d read into Bakugou’s phone line with much more detail than Aizawa could ever hope to. 

 

And hopefully, the league wouldn’t expect UA students to come to the aid. 

 

That and some sort of decoy were all they really had up their sleeve. 

 

But it would be enough. Especially if Aizawa and Nezu were thinking alike right now, which surprisingly, they usually were. 

 

Interrupting his train of thought, Aizawa heard it before he saw it, looking round to see concrete flying up the walls of UA, gates shutting and locking, deadlocking. 

 

And with the decoy in place, Aizawa threw himself down into the side street. 

 

—

 

“What was that?” Ashido asked, Class 1-A looking behind them to see UA closing in on them. 

 

They were walking in line to the assembly point, Iida in front, directing, trying to stop them from looking at the concrete rising around them.

 

“Is that Cementos’ quirk?” Sato asked, peering at the walls around them.

 

“They’re locking us in,” Yaoyorozu commented quietly, hugging her coat to her. “What’s happening..?” 

 

“This is kinda exciting though,” Kaminari shrugged, watching as the second years came out of their own dorms, following in front of the first years. 

 

“No, it’s not,” Sero shut him down. 

 

Whispers filled the air, classes lined up and shivering as they got into their positions in the main grounds, Nezu up front looking his usual calm, Hound Dog and Recovery Girl beside him, astute. Cold. 

 

Vlad King came up to the back of the line, whispering in Kirishima’s ear as he leaned forward to Midoryia in front. 

 

“Everyone else thinks it’s a fire drill, pass it on,” he muttered. 

 

“Even our parents?” Midoryia asked quietly. 

 

“I guess,” 

 

“Okay,” he replied, leaning across to Kaminari in front.

 

Looking around it was true, the rest of the students shared a sense of foreboding excitement rather than 1-A’s fear. 

 

The teachers looked less energetic however, almost on edge, a military operation secretly taking place. 

 

Midoryia wondered how many students knew about Chiba yet. How many of their families lived there-

 

A hand grabbed Midoryia’s shoulder, pulling him behind slightly, the teen half expecting another instruction. Instead;

 

“Now’s our chance,” Kirishima whispered in his ear, pointing behind the two. Midoryia looked around at his friend, trying to place the look in his eyes. “We’ve got to go,”

 

“You’re going to go regardless,” he stated. 

 

There was a small pause, Kirishima working up to the implications of what he was going to say.

 

“Yeah,”

 

“Okay,” Midoryia whispered. He looked at the front of the line, watching as Iida turned his head to check on the class, pausing briefly, arms waving, before turning and- “Now!” he hissed. 

 

Kirishima nodded mutely and turned on his heels, Midoryia waiting for a second and following. It took a moment before Kirishima noticed the extra presence.

 

“You’re coming?!”

 

“Of course,” Midoryia grinned, trying to conceal his nervousness, the weird de ja vu of the situation. “Like Aizawa said last time, me knowing already puts me at risk of expulsion. I might as well go all the way. Besides, we can’t make much of a scene if this is only a ‘fire drill’,” 

 

Kirishima grinned back as the two ducked behind the bins, watching the support course classes walk in front of them.

 

“Do you know how you’re going to get out of the school grounds?” Midoryia whispered.

 

“I think so,” Kirishima replied, flexing an arm, quirk activated and his skin turning stone-like. 

 

“That’ll set off the alarms,” Midoryia reasoned. “We could always try and find the rescue squad. Aizawa requested UA backup so they’ll be one,”

 

“True, we’ll be caught either way,” Kirishima replied. “Where do you think they’ll be?” 

 

“Somewhere near the main building?” Midoryia replied with a shrug. “It would make the most sense. That’s where most of the teachers would have been anyway-”

 

“Wait.” Kirishima stopped him, mid-flow, pointing to a few figures, walking against the crowd. “Look,”

 

“They’re UA students… I think,” Midoryia replied, squinting at the group. Their tight-lipped faces proved they knew more than most. 

 

“Third years,” Kirishima confirmed. “Let’s follow them,”

 

“You think they’re going to help?” 

 

“Only one way to find out,” 

 

And with that Kirishima had already set off, following in line with the group. Midoryia went to his side, trying to look as confident as possible. The last thing he wanted was to worry anyone. 

 

He really hoped Iida would forgive him.

 

Todoroki too. 

 

The third years turned a corner, the opposite direction to the assembly point. All Might, Snipe and Ectoplasm were stood waiting, turning as the group of seven or so teenagers appeared in front of them.

 

Midoriya was about to stop short when Kirishima grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward and dragging him through the students towards the teachers.

 

“Kirishima-!”

 

“Midoryia?” 

 

Yagi’s voice was unmistakable, a mixture of confusion and knowing. Kirishima didn’t let the teen answer however, puffing out his chest and standing proudly in front of his seniors.

 

“We want to join the fight,” 

 

Snipe sighed.

 

“All Might. Control your first years,” he asked patiently, turning away from the sixteen-year-olds.

 

“You have to let us join!” Kirishima yelled breathlessly, the desperation seeping into his voice. “He’s my best friend!”

 

“You can’t stop us from helping you,” Midoryia backed up, green light pulsing one arm, trying not to look in All Might’s direction, aware of his metered stare.

 

“It’s not happening-” Snipe was halfway through saying when Amajiki stepped forward from the crowd of third years. 

 

“Let him come,” he said, almost at volume, before backing away slightly and pointing at Kirishima. “Let him come anyway,”

 

“Amajiki?” Snipe questioned, looking fiercely at the third year who struggled to maintain eye contact. 

 

“We’re both under Fatgum at the moment I… know he’s a good hero. I can… I can communicate with him,”

 

“Dude,” Kirishima smiled, Amajiki shooting him a stare. 

 

“I’m not saying this because he’s my friend.”

 

There was a pause before;

 

“He is. But he’s more Bakugou’s friend,” the seventeen-year-old continued, growing in confidence. “With the little information Aizawa’s told us, Bakugou is only facing the one villain. Even if that villain is potentially not human, Bakugou should have been able to overpower one man, at least enough to communicate with us properly. Something’s gone wrong,”

 

“And what does Kirishima have to do with it?” Ectoplasm asked, stepping into the conversation. 

 

“His name is Red Riot,” Amajiki corrected, head and chin pointed upwards, even if his eyes still cast down. “And if Bakugou’s mental state is compromised he might be our best bet of calming him down enough to get him,”

 

The pro’s sighed, Ectoplasm looking down at the time, Snipe eyeing the third year up. 

 

“Okay,” he finally nodded, turning to Kirishima. “Provisional license?”

 

Kirishima flustered with his pockets, pulling it out and handing it to the pro. 

 

“Don’t be a liability,” he warned after looking the card up and down, handing it back. “This isn’t a personal mission for you,”

 

“Yes Sir!” Kirishima cried back. 

 

“Midoryia go back to your class,” Thirteen instructed, Midoryia’s nose flaring in protest. 

 

“We’ve wasted enough time already,” Snipe agreed, turning back to the group. 

 

“Who were you going to send to Aizawa’s side?” Yagi interrupted as Midoryia was turning away. 

 

“Me, Sensei,” a third-year piped up from the circle. 

 

“Care to take another?” 

 

“I…”

 

“Yagi, stop,” Snipe scolded his senior with some impatience. 

 

“Have you worked with Erasurehead before?” Yagi continued to the third year, ignoring the pro.

 

“No,” she replied quickly.

 

“Do you know his quirk inside-out?”

 

“I know it well…”

 

“You’ll take Deku with you,” Yagi finished. “They’ve worked together before and you’ll need someone close to him on the offensive. If neither Bakugou or Aizawa can handle this villain head on then you’d be stupid to not throw everything at it now,”

 

There was a silence, the words lingering in the air before;

 

“The boy doesn’t have control over his quirk-“

 

Ectoplasm was stopped by a look, Yagi breaking eye contact to grab the Midoryia’s provision license from his hands, holding it up to the pro. Proof. 

 

Thirteen motioned to the time

 

“No more first years,” Snipe growled from beside them begrudgingly. “That’s it,”

 

“That’s it,” Yagi agreed. 

 

“Okay let’s go,” Thirteen cried, the group splitting and moving towards the UA entrance. 

 

Midoryia ran to catch up with the girl he’d been paired with. She looked back at him whilst tying her hair up, ponytail in mouth, a smile on her face. 

 

“Hi,” she muffled as they jogged. 

 

“Hi!” Midoryia stuttered back. “My name’s Deku,”

 

“Time Warp,” the girl replied, releasing the hair and from her mouth and using it to tie up her jet black hair. “My name is Abehisa though,”

 

“Midoryia,” 

 

“It’s nice to meet you,” the girl grinned as the group broke into a run. “Your quirk?”

 

“Oh, a power type-“

 

“You’re the one Mirio worked with no?” Abehisa interrupted, undoing the belt from her costume. “Sorry, it’s just in that case I know an awful lot about you. We don’t have much time,”  

 

“Yeah that’s me,” Midoryia replied bashfully, watching the third year as she tied one end of the belt around her hand as she ran, tapping the end of it so it hardened and retracted back. He was about to ask her quirk when Snipe turned, mid-run, from the front. 

 

“WE SPLIT OFF HERE!” he cried to the group. “SUNEATER, RED RIOT, WITH ME, UP! THIRTEEN, RIGHT! DEKU, TIME WARP, LEFT! EVERYONE ELSE SURROUND THE AREA,”

 

Midoryia was about to head left when Abehisa pulled him down an alley. 

 

“You weren’t here, it’s a ruse,” she replied as if to answer Midoryia. “He’s saying false commands. We go up. We’ll get there way before the others then,” 

 

At once, Abehisa released the belt upwards, the leather-like fabric staying taught as it reached the top of the building before latching onto the side, pulling the third year with it. Midoryia felt his legs tingle with power as he followed suit. 

 

“My quirk can produce portals that slow time,” Abehisa continued at a whisper, retracting her belt again once the two were perched on the roof of an industrial building. “Three warps at a time, mainly to boost the power of others quirks, slow down speed type moves or to aid escapes,” 

 

She launched herself onto the rooftop of another building, flinging herself backward and landing with a jump-up, Midoryia powering himself over the gap just after her. 

 

“That’s amazing!” he commented as they crossed another building, barely illuminated by moonlight. 

 

“It’s good for this sort of thing, plus both my parents are doctors so this way I can help provide first aid,” she replied. “I’ll never make it to the top three but when it comes to support heroes I aim to be number one!” 

 

Midoryia grinned at that, thinking back to his own class, Abehisa’s heroism reminding him of Asui as she touched her earpiece quickly. 

 

“We’re ready,” she spoke with an air of professionalism, Midoryia had only seen in other pro heroes. 

 

“Okay,” Snipe’s voice rang out in their ears. “We’re still a few blocks away, go in without us,”

 

Midoryia looked down on the view below him. The alleyway looked bare but there was his homeroom teacher, capture weapon in hand, one loop tied around the figures overpowered fist, pulling him back. 

 

There was another figure on the ground beside him. One Midoryia recognised. 

 

Bakugou.

 

He was unconscious. 

 

“Ready?” Abehisa asked Midoryia as she wrapped her belt around one hand.

 

Midoryia nodded mutely, firing up One for All inside his legs, not focusing on the drop below them, instead focusing on when to jump, how to strike. 

 

“Let’s go,” Abehisa called, throwing her belt down and leaping off of the side of the building.

 

Midoryia took a deep breath-

 

And jumped. 

 

—

 

Kirishima ran alongside Amajiki past the main streets that branched from UA and down one of the side alleys.

 

“Hold up,” Amajiki called, splitting off further to the left. Kirishima followed him to see the third year approach the convenience store nearest UA. 

 

The one Bakugou had been to. 

 

The place looked deserted, lights still on but the doors were locked. 

 

“I need something,” Amajiki hissed, running up to the front entrance. “Shit it’s locked,”

 

“What do you-?” Kirishima was about to ask before he saw something in the corner of his eye, reflected in one of the security mirrors just inside the entrance. “There’s someone in there!” he motioned. 

 

Amajiki followed his eyeline to see the reflection of a woman, tied up and bound, shaking uncontrollably, somehow still alive. 

 

“Break it open!” Amajiki cried to the redhead as Kirishima activated his quirk, smashing into the glass, the alarm blaring as the two dived in the gap. 

 

Kirishima was the first to get to the woman. She was a store clerk, mouth sealed, a wild look in her eyes. Kirishima cut through the tape with one finger, the victim taking gasping breaths as he freed her arms, trying to get his attention. 

 

“There was… a presence..! It came in… and…”

 

“It’s okay,” Kirishima reassured her, his mind whirring. A presence? 

 

“It was waiting… for someone..?” the woman continued in gulps.

 

“Did anyone come in?” Kirishima suddenly asked. “A student? Blonde hair?” 

 

The woman shook her head, fat tears rolling uncontrollably down her cheeks. 

 

“He didn’t come here!” Kirishima called across to Amajiki who was by the fridges. “Bakugou never came here!” 

 

Amajiki reappeared by the two’s side, a jar of octopus in one hand, the other pulling out his phone. 

 

“Is there someone we can call?” he asked the woman softly as she nodded, her shaky hands wiping away at her nose. “Okay, we’ll make sure you’re safe,” he continued giving Kirishima a look.

 

Kirishima nodded through gritted teeth. They had to help this woman, they couldn’t just leave her…

 

Praying that Bakugou would be okay for a few minutes longer, he helped the citizen up. 

 

—

 

Midoryia felt the wind whistle past him, All for One buzzing green light through his legs, focusing on timing it… just… right…

 

There was a second and Abehisa’s belt found contact with a railing, stopping her mid-flow and yanking her upwards to land. Midoryia forced his right leg forward, letting a cry emit from his mouth as the power concentrated itself down into his foot and-

 

Aizawa watched a blaze of green make contact with the villain, shaking the ground beside them, sending dust clouds up into the air. The force took him by surprise, having to hold onto his capture weapon with both hands to stop himself from being dragged into the epicenter of the attack.

 

There was a zip of fabric and a belt whistled past his torso, his eyes following to watch as a third-year he almost recognised, grab it in one, following the momentum of landing down to the ground, one hand for balance. 

 

“Took your time!” Aizawa cried as he tried to restrain the villain's arm once more, the human/Nomu hybrid sending pressure through his capture weapon, warping it and sending it flying. The figure seemed to be intent on going back to Bakugou, the kid lying unconscious on the floor, breathing maybe, Aizawa couldn’t tell. 

 

The dust cloud had parted revealing a student he very much knew, jumping backward, a fist primed.

 

“Deku!” he yelled across the alley.

 

“Erasurehead!” the cry came back.

 

“I can hold him off,” Aizawa called. “But that’s all. Someone needs to get to him, he’s been strangled as far as I can tell, drugged? Potentially-“

 

Aizawa was cut off mid grunt, dodging a blow as Midoryia came down on the villain’s back, using his legs to push him off balance as Aizawa attempted to restrain him again. 

 

“I’m on it!” Abehisa cried, extending one arm and shooting her belt out onto the wall beside where Bakugou lay. “TIME WARP!” she yelled, a bright white light emitting from her hand and billowing into a portal-like circle. The third-year continued to throw herself into, her belt pulling her forwards. 

 

Now Aizawa recognised her. Timer. A third-year known for escape aid. He silently thanked Nezu for his choice. Bakugou needed first aid. Now. 

 

Midoryia watched from where he was holding the villain down, as her body and movements seemed to slow as she hit the light, bending down and pulling Bakugou onto his side, beginning to check his pulse. The Nomu hybrid started to struggle from underneath him, pulling him from his position, Aizawa’s capture weapon starting to expand. 

 

“DEKU!” he cried as the villain broke free, with some force, flying Midoryia up into the air and throwing him onto his back. Midoryia coughed as he struggled to breathe, the wind knocked out of him, jumped up just in time to see the hybrid run towards Abehisa and Bakugou. The third-year turning and reaching up a hand as Aizawa pulled his capture weapon back towards him. 

 

“RETRACT!” she called, seemingly in slow motion, her voice slurred until the light had vanished, her movements returning to real time. She pulled Bakugou out of the way as the hybrid turned, waiting until the last moment before; “TIME WARP!” 

 

The villain was encased in light, his movements slowed, Aizawa’s capture weapon in pursuit, the bands twisting in half time as they reached their target. 

 

“Time warp,” Abehisa repeated, producing a second warp around Bakugou, hitting the light to turn her attention back to the teen. “He’s breathing on his own,” Midoryia heard her cry in their direction. “I have one more warp,” Abehisa said, looking in Midoryia’s direction. “Then I have to let them go. Make it a good shot,”

 

“Okay!” Midoryia breathed alongside his homeroom teacher who gave him a muted nod in return, struggling against the bands of his scarf. 

 

“On my signal!” Abehisa cried. “I want to make sure Bakugou’s airway’s clear first,”

 

“You don’t have much time!” Midoryia heard his homeroom teacher call back, straining against the force of the man. “We need more back-up,” he hissed, almost to himself. “I don’t know how to get Bakugou out of here,”

 

“Thirteen is here but he can’t use his quirk with the villain so close to Bakugou,” Midoryia replied. “Amajiki can grab him with Kirishima but they’re not here yet,”

 

Midoryia felt the worry creep into his voice, feeling One for All buzzing underneath his skin. 

 

“I don’t know why they’re not here yet,” he heard himself say.

 

“Hit him with all you’ve got,” Aizawa commanded bitterly. “We need to give Bakugou time to get away whether support gets here or not,”

 

Midoryia nodded, readying himself.

 

“I’ve got your back,” Aizawa confirmed, his capture weapon floating just above his hands. 

 

“He’s waking up!” Abehisa called. 

 

“Let’s go!” Aizawa shouted back, the villain, despite being delayed, reaching closer and closer to Abehisa’s back. 

 

“TIME WARP!” the third year called, throwing her final warp across to the other side of the villain, Midoryia running at it, One for All powering up through his legs, crackling and pulsing as he launched himself into the light.

 

And all of a sudden the world around him slowed. He was tempted to look around, catching glimpses of Aizawa’s capture scarf billowing past him at half the speed. He focused on hitting the villain in the head, aware that as he got closer the light was fading from around him fast until suddenly real time came crashing through, his foot making contact with the hybrids head, pummelling it to the floor beside Bakugou, feeling something crack beneath him. 

 

From the angle, probably a nose. Or some teeth. Midoryia was lacking much mercy. 

 

The villain roared, his fist grappling for Bakugou, Midoryia, anything. 

 

Aizawa’s capture weapon grabbed his fist before he got close, Abehisa moving in front of Bakugou to protect him. 

 

The villain tried to lash out one more time, catching Abehisa across the cheek before Aizawa yanked his capture weapon, pulling the villain back, Midoryia using his quirk to hit the attackers fist over and over. 

 

“Timer?!” Aizawa yelled across the dark. 

 

“TIME WARP!” she screeched, slowing the villain down once more, jumping back up in defense. “I’m okay,” she called back although Midoryia could hear a grit to her voice. 

 

“We have back up!” Aizawa called back, the loading of a gun being heard in the distance. 

 

“ERASUREHEAD!” a cry came from the looking across to Snipe as he fired shot after shot at the Nomu hybrid, the villain writhing in pain from inside the light. “NOW!” 

 

Abehisa pulled away quickly but the villain was quicker, breaking away from Aizawa’s capture weapon, pushing the fabric upwards and reaching across, this time grabbing the third year by her ponytail, throwing Midoryia off balance as he slammed her to the ground. 

 

As soon as Midoryia had rolled away, he heard the sound of bullets ricocheting into the villain, jumping up to fight. Abehisa lay beside him but her warps were still up, a pained grunt signifying that she was remaining conscious. She reached down enough to grab her belt, throwing it in Aizawa’s direction as she pulled herself onto her side, pulling Bakugou to lie underneath her, protecting him like a human shield. 

 

The pro caught it with one hand, wielding the two weapons and throwing them across to grab the villains hands, tying them and forcing him upwards further into Snipes bullets. Midoryia powered himself up, preparing to roundhouse the villain, One for All powering up inside of him.

 

1%, 2%, 3%, 4%…

 

He needed to provide support for Erasurehead and Timer. 

 

So he couldn’t use One for All at 100%.

 

12%, 13%, 14%…

 

And there was only one move that he could use One for All at 20% with. Potentially 30% but that was with a support item…

 

17%, 18%…

 

Midoryia twisted his body round, green light crackling around him. 

 

24%, 25%, 27%…

 

His whole body ached, his bones screaming, his mind focused on powering up just a little further.

 

28%, 29%…

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bakugou start to stir, breath on his own.

 

30%

 

And finally, Midoryia let go.

 

—

 

Bakugou came to; a bright light filling his head. There was a second before he realised that his eyes were open, one holding vision decidedly darker than the other. He tried to breathe through his mouth but instead got a mouthful of blood, coughing and crying it onto the ground beside him.

 

Breathing through his nose wasn’t much better but it was manageable.

 

He tried to move a hand, surprising himself when it did as his will, the skin tight and dry, the feeling against the wet gravel numb and cold. He went on to test his arm, then his other, then both legs and both feet, toes wriggling, just about. 

 

He was alive. 

 

In pain. Hardly breathing. 

 

But alive. 

 

Then his hearing came back to him with a rush, what was once a muffled roaring, popped and vanished, replaced with the sounds of grunts and cries, skin hitting skin, the unraveling of fabric and then that light again, followed by a sentence, a string of words Bakugou couldn’t place. 

 

Then gunshot after gunshot after gunshot.

 

He was still there.

 

He was still in the alley. 

 

Adrenaline rushing through this arms he found the will to push himself up as a figure whistled past him followed by a string of white. 

 

A weapon Bakugou recognised. 

 

“BAKUGOU!” 

 

A voice Bakugou recognised. Hurtling past him once more. 

 

It took Bakugou a moment longer to realise it was his homeroom teacher, connecting the dots in his pounding brain, the adrenaline still forcing him upwards, preparing him to fight again. 

 

“GO BACK TO UA!” he heard Aizawa yell, his voice verging on desperation. “NOW!”

 

He didn’t want to go back to UA. He needed to fight. And then he heard a cry, a low hiss he recognised. 

 

“Aghhhhh!”

 

His killer. 

 

Bakugou felt the ground around him, using his blurred vision to pull himself up onto his feet and find the wall beside him. 

 

Grasping onto light illuminating from the streetlights beside him, he used it to guide him into a ran, forcing his legs to plough on where his vision couldn’t see. 

 

There was someone behind him, a figure helping him to walk. At least that’s what it seemed. He didn’t have the power to fight back if it wasn’t. 

 

His fingers bent around the corner of brickwork signifying he was coming out of the alley. He was about to take another step when the figure that was helping him was pulled roughly from behind him, a scream, then a string of words that Bakugou couldn’t really make sense of. 

 

He stopped.

 

He didn’t know what to do. 

 

Then more shouts, words Bakugou could understand. 

 

“RUN!”

 

So he did. 

 

He didn’t know if he was going in the right direction but he was confident he knew the outskirts of Tokyo well enough to be able to figure it out. As long as the villain didn’t have back up. 

 

He couldn’t be kidnapped again. 

 

Not like he had much choice in the matter however. 

 

He felt the footsteps before he saw the figure outlined in the pale lights. Rough hands grabbed onto his shoulders, the surprise sending his knees buckling.

 

“Bakugou?!”

 

Bakugou fired off his quirk in the kidnapper's direction, omitting a grunt from the shadow as they curled inwards, regaining their balance. Their hands became tight and rough on his shoulders, morphing and forming with their quirk into a counter attack. 

 

There was only one person Bakugou knew could do that. 

 

“Kirishima..?” he croaked into the space in front of him, feeling the quirk leave his best friend in front of him. 

 

“Bakugou it’s me!” the, now familiar voice, called back. “What happened?!” 

 

“You’re letting your guard down,” he wanted to spit into the night as he pushed him away, angry, frustrated. But he couldn’t talk, angry rasps emitting from his throat instead, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

 

“Woah, woah! Bro!” Kirishima’s hands found their way back onto the tops of Bakugou’s arms. “It’s okay! Aizawa and Midoryia have got it covered,”

 

There was a pause. Bakugou felt the space between them close. 

 

“Oh God... Your eye...”

 

Bakugou didn’t manage to suppress the sob that clawed its way into his throat, choking it back instead, the metallic taste ringing on the roof of his mouth. 

 

“It’s okay,” Kirishima seemingly regaining some composure. “We think it’s just the one villain here-“

 

It was then that Bakugou could see the other figure in the street, hood hidden, quirk activated. Amajiki. 

 

He might have well have been kidnapped. 

 

As Kirishima continued talking he tried to push away from his best friends grip once more but succumbed, feeling his head swirl as what was visible in the world flipped. 

 

“Woah, okay, okay… I’ve got you,” Kirishima’s voice rung out, tripling in his head. His best friends arms were suddenly underneath his own as Bakugou felt his knees scrape the ground once more. There were urgent words spoken between Amajiki and Kirishima as Bakugou forced himself to keep consciousness.

 

“Hold on, I’m going to lift you up,” he heard distantly. Kirishima’s tone had changed. 

 

And not in a good way.

 

There was a pause before Bakugou felt himself go weightless, his head swimming as the blood rushed up. It overwhelmed him immediately. The metallic taste on his breath, the warmth dripping from his bleeding eye socket, running back into his nose-

 

“I want... head up,” he managed to cry, a sob mixed with saliva and blood drooling down Kirishima’s back. “Up...” he continued weakly. “Up,” 

 

Kirishima finally managed to grasp onto what he was saying, hoisting his best friend off of his shoulder and cradling home one arm under his knees, one arm under the base of his neck instead. 

 

“Okay?” he asked hurriedly, Bakugou attempted to nod but doubted he made it. “Okay stay with me Bakugou, we’re going back to UA. It’s only five minutes away, it won’t be long I promise you, just stay with me,”

 

Five minutes away. 

 

He had been five minutes away. 

 

Bakugou knew he probably wouldn’t make the next five minutes conscious. He wasn’t trying to at this point, the stars swimming in his vision, the blood in his throat wanting him to cough, the energy in his body forcing him not to. And Kirishima’s outline, just above him, running… crying?

 

Bakugou felt his world fade to black as Amajiki transformed from beside him, an octopus arm lifting him from his best friends grip and the wind suddenly rushing through his hair. 

 

And then. Nothing. 

 

—

 

He was surprised to wake up. 

 

Even more surprised when he opened his eyes gingerly to see perfect vision once more, blurred but in a way that suggested he’d been asleep. And for a long time. 

 

Bakugou tried to sit up but it took longer than he wanted it to, his body aching and tired. A figure moved from the side of the room as his eyesight readjusted. 

 

“Just rest,” an elderly voice cooed in his direction. “You’re okay,” 

 

Bakugou didn’t care if he was okay, he wanted to ask if…

 

But he saw his world go black before he could.

 

—

 

The next time he awoke the world felt lighter. Breathing was scratchy but the air felt good. Clean. 

 

He stared up at the dim ceiling for a while listening to the noises around him, recognising the familiar sounds of the infirmary.

 

The old woman barely gave him a glance when he tried to sit up, but there was a sense of relief behind her eyes.

 

“Can you see?” Recovery Girl asked. “Just nod. I don’t want you to try talking yet,”

 

“I can see,” Bakugou replied, ignoring Recovery Girl’s ask. His voice sounded gritty and pained as if he was on the tail end of the worlds worst cold. 

 

Recovery Girl sighed. 

 

“Good,” she smiled, the room coming to life around him. The old woman was over to the side, sitting at a desk and tending to an older girl’s head wound. “Your voice will come back but they’ll be no shouting for a while you hear me? It was badly ripped, it’ll need time to heal,”

 

“Ripped?” Bakugou croaked, looking down at his hands and arms for clues about what had happened.

 

They were grazed but nothing more.

 

“You were strangled,” Recovery Girl replied matter-of-factly. “Do you remember?”

 

“Yeah,” Bakugou nodded, not entirely sure if he did. He would though. He knew that much. 

 

“Right, you’re fixed up for now.” Recovery Girl turned her attention back to the girl Bakugou didn’t recognise. The girl in question lifted up her bruised arms to undo her black hair from its tie, letting it cascade over her scarred forehead with a smile. She got up and bowed to Recovery Girl. 

 

“Thank you,” she said, Recovery Girl nodding gently.

 

“Good work Abehisa,” she replied. “Get some rest,”

 

“Yes Sensei,” the teenager smiled, before turning to bow softly to Bakugou. 

 

Bakugou stared back at her as she left, eye’s narrowed. Recovery Girl slapped his arm as she came over to his bed. 

 

“Show some gratitude, she saved your life,” she scolded lightly as she shone a light into Bakugou’s eye.

 

“I didn’t know,” Bakugou replied gruffly.

 

“Open your mouth,” Recovery Girl instructed, ignoring him to shine her light into the back of his throat. 

 

Bakugou looked up at her as she removed the flashlight. 

 

“What’s the time now?” he asked.

 

“Just gone three in the morning,” Recovery Girl replied noticing him yawn. “You can sleep some more, I’d recommend it if I were you. You’ve just been through a stomach pump,”

 

Bakugou was almost alarmed, wanted desperately to ask why and what? but the yawn had stretched his throat, the familiar taste of blood hitting the back of his mouth. 

 

He could ask later.

 

—

 

“You’re alive then,” a voice muttered as Bakugou woke up for the third time. 

 

The infirmary was filled with natural light this time, signifying day? Although what day Bakugou didn’t have a clue. 

 

He didn’t expect to see his homeroom teacher sat beside his bed.

 

Aizawa looked as tired as Bakugou felt, his capture weapon broken and tattered around his neck, his face and arms scratched. 

 

“Have you slept?” he asked, relieved that he couldn’t taste any more blood in the back of his throat. 

 

Aizawa’s face broke out into a small smile but it was gone as quick as he came as he leaned forward, towards Bakugou’s bed.

 

“Not yet,” he shrugged “What do you remember?”

 

“I... I...” 

 

Bakugou looked away, trying to remember the last twenty-four hours, grasping at snippets, a park, trying to help a man or something and then he’d turned? On him? 

 

He couldn’t recall it properly but his body recognised the memories, he felt his chest tighten, the grip around his bedsheets grow tighter as he became more and more impatient. 

 

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” Aizawa’s voice cleared through the mental fog. “You were drugged. You wouldn’t have clear memories yet,” 

 

“The stomach pump..?” he asked gingerly, hoping he wasn’t making that up as well. 

 

“Yeah, that was a couple of hours ago, you should be okay now,” Aizawa reassured him. “Safe to say that’s what inhibited your combat abilities last night,” 

 

Bakugou breathed properly for the first time in a while. He hadn’t been weak. He’d been drugged. 

 

“By who?” he asked, feeling some of the heat from his cheeks fade. 

 

“We don’t know. It was oral so we’re issuing all those on the hero course with a warning anyway. The only names cleared have been Lunch Rush and Recovery Girl so don’t take any food, drink, anything that looks suspicious from anyone else,” 

 

“Okay,” Bakugou nodded, letting the information sink in. “Is your name not clear?” he finally asked. 

 

“There’s no clear evidence either way,” Aizawa replied with a sigh. “It might be beneficial to Homeroom class however if you didn’t see me as some sort of real threat,”

 

Bakugou, much to Aizawa’s surprise, snorted at that. 

 

“You couldn’t be a traitor,” he replied. “You care way too much,” 

 

Aizawa wasn’t really sure whether to take that as a compliment or not but felt the corners of his mouth twist into a smile nevertheless. 

 

“Do you remember anything else?” he asked. “It’s okay if you don’t, we don’t know the long term effects of the poison,”

 

Bakugou shook his head and Aizawa nodded, settling down to fill him in. Recovery Girl came in and out, checking over the teens injuries, helping him to sit up. She even tried to check over Aizawa’s but the man waved her away, telling her to go and rest up. He got to the moment when Bakugou woke up in the alley before things clocked into place. 

 

“I remember that,” he croaked.

 

“Good,” Aizawa breathed.

 

“There was screaming..?” Bakugou echoed.

 

“The villain made one last-ditch attempt,” Aizawa explained. “Luckily Abehisa was acting as your shield, he got to her before he got to you and she managed to use her quirk so that Midoryia could attack,”

 

Midoryia. He’d been saved by Midroyia.

 

Bakugou looked away from his teacher at that, tears threatening to brim in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry.

 

“Do you remember Kirishima and Amajiki finding you?” Aizawa continued. 

 

Bakugou took a moment before nodding. 

 

“Is he okay?” he asked suddenly, the question from before being pushed to the forefront of his mind. He’d dampened his tone, he didn’t want to seem as if he was overly bothered but Aizawa smirked at him nevertheless

 

“He’s fine. He was just worried,” 

 

“So this was organised?” Bakugou said slowly, forcing the smile from Aizawa’s mouth.

 

“We believe so. The league knows they can’t take you with willpower so they’re going to use brute force. My guessing is that they were going to either steal your quirk or use you as a vessel. To create a Nomu with your power,” he replied, his eyes fixed for the teenager's reaction. Typically Bakugou’s nose flared, his nose pointing upwards as he shrugged angrily. “The villain you fought last night was about 25% Nomu. But it had taken over his brain. He didn’t have a pain threshold so he could fight back hard,”

 

“I’ll just have to fight back harder,”  

 

“Now we know their motives, we all will,” Aizawa sighed, standing. “This won’t have been the real thing,” he added. “This was a trial run if you like. Half of the league didn’t turn up, the attack on Chiba was half-hearted. Quick thinking for the phone call however, that initiative probably saved your life,” 

 

Bakugou gave another shrug but there was a sense of pride in his eyes, not there at the beginning of the conversation. Good. 

 

“Your fight will go under self-defense,” Aizawa continued as he made his way towards the exit of the infirmary. “But Bakugou?”

 

The boy looked up at him.

 

“Get your provisional license next time around,” Aizawa stated with a grin. “It saves a hell of a lot of paperwork,”

 

Bakugou smirked at that, looking down at his bandaged hands, a lot like Aizawa had seen Midoryia do in the past, and nodded. 

 

“You know I will,” he replied with determination. Aizawa nodded, placing one hand on the door. 

 

“Feel up to visitors?” he asked tiredly. “The police will be around this afternoon for statements so you can say no,”

 

“I can have visitors,” Bakugou shrugged, diving down into the covers. 

 

“Usually I would say no,” Recovery Girl piped up from her desk. “But I feel as if I owe it to them as much as you,” 

 

“Why?” Bakugou asked indignantly. 

 

“Because I’m sure you have questions I can’t answer,” she replied. 

 

“I’ll see you in lessons,” Aizawa called back at Bakugou before leaving.

 

He shut the door behind him and sighed.

 

That was rough.

 

Kirishima looked up hopefully at his teacher, Aizawa waving him in, the teenager practically bolting through the double doors. 

 

He could already hear the cries and cheers, Recovery Girl no doubt telling the teen to calm down, Bakugou returning to his usual self in the presence of his best friend. 

 

At least Bakugou would be okay. 

 

Aizawa brought out his Nokia, aware that there were missed voicemails from Hizashi, texts from his mother. 

 

67% charge. 

 

He’d reply later. 

 

Notes:

If there are any works of your own you want me to read - post them below!! I'd love to read all your work as well XD

Drunk Hizashi will be next I promise (she says) I've already started on it hahaha

Chapter 20: Drinking and Dating Apps

Summary:

Aizawa finally has an evening off !!! (albeit forced)
Hizashi is trying to get him drunk and Nemuri is trying to get him dating... Neither of which go to plan.

PURE UNADULTERATED FLUFF ENSUES

Notes:

SO MY MUM PROOFREAD THIS CHAPTER AND HANDED IT BACK SAYING (about Aizawa) "He's so gay. It's so obvious." XD

It is snowing so badly where I live that there's been a police warning not to drive and all the supermarket car parks are shut. SO what better time than to write ;) After the last chapter I finally got round to drunk Hizashi and my God it felt so nice to write fluff. ALSO, THANK YOU for 200 subs to this fic - oh my I can't explain what that feels like just wow I don't deserve it haha - but yes, thank you x

Enjoy xx

 

When Aizawa accepted the role of Dorm Parent for his class 1-A he knew it was social suicide. He still accepted the extra work, however. He was in his early thirties, too much of a liability and too busy to have any sort of relationship, so if he was being realistic seeing these fifteen-year-olds through three years of hero school was the closest he was going to get to having kids of his own. 

 

Besides, one day he was probably going to have to work alongside them. So he might as well start building relationships with them now. 

 

It had nothing to do with bias he was not emotionally involved and he did not have a soft spot. 

 

He was, however, a liar. 

 

Once in a while, Principal Nezu forced an evening off onto him, pointing out that ‘he would run himself to the ground!’ or perhaps more importantly that ‘UA couldn’t afford to pay him for working this much extra’. At first, Aizawa had tried to pick up extra hero work to fill his evenings until one week he decided he was just too tired to bother. Hizashi and Nemuri had immediately pounced on him, forcing him out into mainstream Tokyo wearing something other than black (!) and dragged him into a bar. 

 

Three hours in and he supposed... no, he was having fun. He’d never been an extrovert like his two best friends but he had missed hanging out like this, hearing about all the ridiculous dates Nemuri had been on and pretending that he listened to all of Hizashi’s radio show the previous week when really he’d just skimmed through it on catch up the following morning. 

 

Besides 1-A was just fine under Vlad King's care. Aizawa made sure not to take time off if he felt his class weren’t 100% okay. He’d rather it was him there if one of them fell ill in the night or someone had a nightmare or lost control of their quirk, rather than Kan. Even though he knew the man was perfectly capable. 

 

After USJ and the training camp... yeah okay, maybe he was protective. Only a little. 

 

“Why would you date a man that hates hero society anyway?” he questioned Nemuri from across the table, eyebrow raised. 

 

“I didn’t know!” she cried in reply pressing her head in her forearms with a laugh. The three were in a tiny bar just off the main Tokyo crossing tucked away in the back. They’d been there for a little over an hour now, Nemuri had drunk two beers, Hizashi an impressive five sake’s and Aizawa had stuck to coke. Full fat of course. Those who skimped out for diet were Satan. 

 

“Was he hot at least?” Hizashi pressed with a grin. Nemuri looked up with a smile. 

 

“Oh yes,” she beamed, dragging out her phone. “Let me...” she scrolled. “...show you,” 

 

Nemuri turned the phone round to show the pair, Aizawa squinted at the picture. A reasonably well-built man with brown hair and a flashy smile stared back at him. 

 

“Ooohhhh he has muscles,” Hizashi slurred dramatically. 

 

“You’re so gay when you’re drunk,” Aizawa commented. Hizashi poked his tongue out in reply. 

 

“Can we see...” he started, picking up a shot of sake, hovering it above Aizawa’s coke. “...if you turn gay too,”

 

“That’s not how it works,” Aizawa grinned, placing his hand over his glass. 

 

“Look he sails as well,” Nemuri interrupted pulling up another picture of her date on some sort of rowing boat, oar in hand. 

 

“Ahhh but he hates your entire profession,” Aizawa sighed sarcastically. 

 

“You’re an arse,” Nemuri quipped back. 

 

“No, he’s the arse! Who doesn’t agree with hero society?!” Aizawa groaned. “I swear to God I’ve probably saved his life before!-”

 

He was about to continue when he felt something wet tricking into his hand. He pulled it away immediately with a hiss watching as the gleeful Hizashi poured an entire shot of sake into his coke. 

 

“You fucker,” 

 

Hizashi laughed gleefully almost bouncing on his chair. “Taste it!”

 

“My coke,” Aizawa whined. “It’s going to be disgusting now,” 

 

He swigged it anyway, the normal taste of coke offset by a bitter aftertaste. It wasn’t good but it wasn’t overwhelmingly bad. 

 

“Why do people drink that for fun?” he huffed, setting it down on the placemat once more. 

 

“Because it makes you feel gooooooood,” Hizashi sang. 

 

“It better,” Aizawa growled. 

 

“So are you going on a second date?” Hizashi asked, the attention turned back on Nemuri. 

 

“Of course she isn’t-“ Aizawa started. 

 

“Next Wednesday,” Nemuri replied. 

 

“Wait, WHAT?! Why?” Aizawa cried. 

 

“He’s hot,”

 

“He sails,” 

 

Both Hizashi and Nemuri spoke at once, looking up as if butter couldn’t melt. 

 

Aizawa took another swig of his drink. 

 

“Can we make you a dating profile?” 

 

“You what?” Aizawa asked, looking down at Nemuri. 

 

“Ah!! Let’s get Shota a dAtEeeeEee!” Hizashi yelled excitedly, downing the rest of his drink in one. 

 

“You’re keen,” Aizawa muttered, Nemuri already pulling out her phone and twisting the screen around to show the others. 

 

“I’ll make you another account on my dating app, seeing as you gave your only proper phone to a child,” Nemuri started, leaning so close to the middle of the table that Aizawa could smell the liquor on her breath. 

 

“I didn’t say yes!” Aizawa protested but he figured he was too tired to fight anyway. He’d get her to delete it later if she didn’t get bored beforehand. “And I have a phone!”

 

Nemuri just grinned. Hizashi grabbed another glass to down, tipping it into his mouth only to find that it was empty. 

 

“You done with this?” he mused, motioning to the tray of empty sake glasses in front of his best friend. 

 

“I am... fukin’ drunk,” Hizashi slurred back, pointing finger guns in Aizawa’s direction. 

 

“So you don’t want another?” Aizawa smirked. 

 

“Fuck off I do,” 

 

“It’s your round!” Nemuri winked. 

 

“I know, I know, I’m on it,” he smiled. “Same again?” 

 

Nemuri burped in response. 

 

“Charming. I do often wonder why you don’t go on more dates,”

 

“Shut up,” 

 

Aizawa laughed lightly before turning. 

 

“Oh wait!” Nemuri called shoving her phone in Aizawa’s face, the flash blinding him. 

 

“Ow! Shit!” he cried, flicking her away and scowling at Hizashi’s giggling. 

 

“Profile picture!” Nemuri grinned. Aizawa rolled his eyes, pushing his way past the curtains to the bar, settling his card down in front of him. 

 

“The same again,” he told the bar tender. 

 

He paused. 

 

“Add a shot of rum to the coke,” he added. 

 

—

 

“Right it’s done!” Nemuri grinned as Aizawa placed the drinks tray back on the table. 

 

“Sit next to me this time!” Hizashi pouted, pulling Aizawa down so he was sat on his lap. 

 

“Gettoff,” he grinned pushing his best friend away to sit next to him instead. “Can I see?” he asked Nemuri. 

 

“In a bit,” she winked. “Right have a look through these profiles,” she explained, scrolling past a few pictures. “I need to pee,” 

 

“This is ridiculous,” Aizawa mused as he looked at the first picture on the screen. “I’m too busy to date,”

 

“You... should date someone who’s just as busy,” Hizashi slurred beside him, his head placed on Aizawa’s shoulder. 

 

“Hmmm,”

 

Hizashi shifted position, resting his head sideways on Aizawa’s pink turtle neck, poking his glass of coke and rum. 

 

“Did you mut pum in it?” he asked, frowning slightly. “Put rum,”

 

“Yeah, I did,” Aizawa snorted. “Are you drunk?” 

 

“No!” Hizashi protested. “Are you?” 

 

“I’m... hazy,” Aizawa decided after a pause. 

 

“You lightweight,”

 

“You can talk,”

 

There was a silence between the two, the hum of the bar taking over. There was the sound of teenagers laughing behind the curtain, a ping of a toll register, the tapping of Aizawa’s fingertips on the screen before; 

 

“I love you Shota,” Hizashi drooled onto Aizawa’s sleeve as the pro continued mindlessly scrolled through profiles. 

 

“I love you too,” he replied under his breath with a sigh. 

 

“You doooo?” Hizashi whined, looking up at his best friend bug-eyed. 

 

“Yes Yamada and I tell you every time you get drunk, which you usually follow up with asking wether I really do love you, to which I reply ‘yes’, then in some, very drunk occasions, you ask if you can kiss me and I say..?” 

 

Aizawa looked at Hizashi, eyebrow raised.

 

“Yes?!!” his best friend cheered.

 

“No,” Aizawa replied, looking back to his phone screen. “I say no,”

 

“You suck,” 

 

“I don’t do that either,”

 

Hizashi whined, throwing himself across Aizawa’s arms and purposely blocking his view.

 

“Move. I can’t see my phone,”

 

“I don’t care,” 

 

There was a pause. 

 

“Actually I do. Are they hotter than me?”

 

“Are who hotter than you?” Aizawa asked with a yawn. 

 

“The people on the thingy dating thingy thing,” Hizashi pandered, flapping at Aizawa’s arm. 

 

“No,” 

 

“You’re just saying that,” Hizashi groaned as Nemuri reappeared, looking over their shoulder. 

 

“Found anyone?” she asked wide-eyed. 

 

“No,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Why do you keep scrolling right then?” 

 

“What?”

 

The trio looked down to where Aizawa was absentmindedly scrolling, matching with every single profile. 

 

“No, nonononono... No!” 

 

Aizawa picked up Nemuri’s phone desperately trying to scroll back and undo every profile. 

 

Hizashi and Nemuri burst out laughing in the face of Aizawa, struggling to contain their amusement at the situation. Nemuri prized the phone off of him. 

 

“Oh, seven matches already!” she cooed before clicking on the app and nearly falling off of her chair. “Oh my GOD! You matched with EMI?!”

 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Aizawa hissed. 

 

“JOKE! HAHA, YOU MATCHED WITH JOKE!” Hizashi screeched, causing most of the other costumers to look their way. 

 

“She’s sent you a message!!” Nemuri cried excitedly, swigging her beer. Aizawa necked half of his coke, Hizashi peering excitedly over his best friends shoulder. 

 

“What does it say, what does it say?!” he chorused. Aizawa placed his head in one hand, holding the other out for Nemuri’s phone. He listened to her giggling before feeling the weight of the smartphone in hand, looking up blearily at the message. 

 

‘Why did you lie about your height?? XD You can do more than capture my heart ;)! Xx’

 

“Fucks sake,”

 

This time Nemuri couldn’t control herself, both her and Hizashi falling about laughing, the latter going so red, Aizawa had to reach across beside him to pat his back. Hizashi managed to breathe again before snorting and laughing once more, lounging into Aizawa’s lap. 

 

“Get up,” he prompted, poking Hizashi’s head. 

 

“No. I like it here,” Hizashi replied, staring up at Aizawa from below him. Aizawa sighed. 

 

“Where’s my profile?” he asked, holding up the phone. 

 

“Here,” Nemuri smirked, tapping on the screen. “Don’t kill me,”

 

“Why would I- what the fuck is that photo?!” 

 

“Let’s see,” Hizashi called from below him. 

 

“You’ve already seen!” Nemuri scolded, Aizawa ignoring them both. 

 

“Why have you put me down as 6ft 4?!” he continued. 

 

“It’s not far off!” 

 

“I’m 6ft. Also 27?! I’m not twenty-seven!”

 

“You’re around that age!” Nemuri protested. “People like that sort of thing, they think you’re young, fit,-“

 

“I am young and fit!” 

 

“I didn’t mean physically fit,”

 

“Oh, you’re fucking charming aren’t you!” 

 

Nemuri cackled. 

 

“This isn’t funny!” Aizawa protested, trying so hard to keep his voice low and metered but he could feel the sides of his face twitch at his best friends reactions. God dammit. 

 

He continued reading, luckily the rest of the information was near enough the truth apart from-

 

“Noir colored eyes?!” 

 

“It’s a fancier way of saying black,” Nemuri explained. 

 

“Just say ‘black’!’”

 

Finally, he landed on his description reading in horror at what Nemuri had chosen to put. 

 

‘Let my capture wepon capture your heart... Or more..? <3 You read it right lucky ladies, I’m a pro and I’m not up all night for nothing... ;)’

 

“Nemuri what the FUCK is that?!” 

 

“Your chat up line!” 

 

“You spelt ‘weapon’ wrong,” Hizashi mused, taking the phone off of Aizawa’s hands. 

 

“Oh God how many people have seen this..?” Aizawa wept. 

 

“Just over sixty!” Nemuri replied. 

 

“I’d scroll left,” Hizashi smirked. 

 

“You’d scroll left no matter what the profile said,” Aizawa quipped grabbing the phone back before any further damage was done. 

 

Hizashi made kissy noises in his direction. 

 

“Not drunk enough,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Yet,” 

 

Aizawa shoved his hand over Hizashi’s mouth. It worked. For all of two seconds. 

 

“Stop licking my hand! God, you’re disgusting!” Aizawa yelled, rubbing his hand down Hizashi arm to rid himself of the man's saliva. 

 

“You two! Get. A. Room!” Nemuri drawled from across from them. “Or I’ll have to put you as ‘taken’ on this app,” 

 

“Yes please do,” Aizawa begged. “I’ve got twelve matches now,”

 

“I’m genuinely surprised Shota,” Nemuri grinned, taking the phone back off of him. “You’re doing well! Maybe you won’t be single forever,” 

 

“I want to be single forever,” Aizawa growled. Nemuri started laughing, first seemingly at Aizawa’s sarcasm but then;

 

“Fine I’ll delete it,” she sniggered. “If-“ 

 

It was at this point she snorted, her glasses nearly tipping off of her nose and she struggled to contain herself. 

 

“What?” Aizawa growled, even Hizashi lifting his head off of his lap to peer at their best friend. 

 

“If you kiss Hizashi,” she finished, still staring at her phone, her hand covering her mouth. 

 

“What’s the catch,” Aizawa asked, trying to grab the phone off her. She held it above her head instead. “What have you found? Who have you found?!” 

 

Nemuri seemed as if she was going to continue to keep quiet but as Aizawa went for the phone again she held him back, one finger on his nose as she turned the screen around.  

 

“Mineta!” 

 

“That fucking-“

 

“Kiss Hizashi or I swipe right!” Nemuri cried menacingly, her finger hovering above the screen. 

 

Aizawa didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Hizashi’s face, pulling it into his own, their lips colliding. Hizashi wasn’t deterred for long, however, his hand wrapping around the back of Aizawa’s head, pushing himself forward and deepening the kiss. 

 

Nemuri nearly dropped the phone before the two broke apart, Aizawa wiping his mouth with the back of one hand, motioning to the phone with the other. 

 

“Delete it-“ he coughed. “God I hate sake,”

 

“I’ll put it on hidden,” Nemuri smiled, showing him her fiddling with the settings. “Just in case you need it for real,”

 

“I’m going to kill Mineta,” 

 

“I’m sure it was just a prank,” Nemuri shrugged with a small smile. 

 

“If that’s the case then I’ll bet you Kaminari has an account as well,” 

 

“Oh stop it Shota. You’re not at work,” she scolded. 

 

“Can we kiss again?” A voice asked from beside Aizawa. 

 

“Still not drunk enough,” Aizawa replied without even looking in Hizashi direction. 

 

“But I wasn’t ready that time!”

 

Aizawa downed the rest of his rum and coke with a shudder. 

 

“Another round!” he decided, him and Nemuri looking in Hizashi’s direction. 

 

“Your turn!” she winked as Hizashi went to stand, stumbling slightly. 

 

“I’m not drunk,” he grinned. 

 

“Sure, sure,” Aizawa teased, watching him go. 

 

A comfortable silence fell between Nemuri and Shota for a second before he looked up at her, watching her swig the last of her beer. 

 

“Don’t go on that date next week,” 

 

“What?” she asked. 

 

“With that guy who hates heroes or whatever,” Aizawa continued, pushing back on his chair. “Don’t go,” 

 

“I just...” Nemuri paused, averting eye contact for a second. “I don’t want to be alone in my thirties. Sometimes I... I hate being so independent. And I get it. I have guys wherever I look, whatever, it’s not the same it’s not a constant. I can’t rely on someone who’s only relying on my looks,” 

 

“If anyone else said that they’d be called vain,” Aizawa grinned softly before reaching out to grab Nemuri’s hands. “You won’t be alone. You have me. And Hizashi. Safety husbands age forty-five,” he reminded her. 

 

“Forty-six,” she corrected. “Because Hizashi wanted time to have a midlife crisis remember,” 

 

“Ahhh yes,” Aizawa smiled, the two grinning up at each other. Aizawa let go of her hands as Hizashi bursting through the divide. 

 

“I got SHOTS!” he yelled with a beaming smile. 

 

“Oh God,” Aizawa muttered. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” 

 

Hizashi winked. 

 

“Stupid question,” 

 

“Right. We’re doing these then hitting another bar? Yes?” Nemuri asked as the three took the colorful shot glasses in sync, Hizashi taking his seat next to Aizawa once more. 

 

“YEAHHHHHH!” Hizashi cried. “Or karaoke!” 

 

“Or that arcade bar,” Aizawa suggested as the three held their shots high above them. 

 

“To being single!” Nemuri cried into the air. 

 

“Being single!” Aizawa and Hizashi responded as the three cheered. 

 

Maybe Aizawa would take nights off more often. 

 

Maybe.

Notes:

don't get salty at me for the ErasureMic kiss - if you haven't kissed your best mate drunk before then you haven't lived. ;)

Chapter 21: That one homeroom class...

Summary:

The homeroom in which Aizawa is forced to talk about mental health and realises just how fucked his kids are.

Notes:

We've surpassed over 11,000 hits now holyyyyyy-
So I've updated the description a bit, given this fic a timetabled upload time (Fridays 8pm GMT be there or be square ayyy)
This week I've been thinking a lot about mental health especially in schools (I'm preparing to go back to drama school and it is not handled well there oml) so this chapter came about - I hope you enjoy x

“Quieten down! Let’s get started.” 

 

Aizawa let his eyes fall over his class of twenty with a muted grimace. It was Wednesday, dead of the week and class 1A looked dead to the world. They finished up their chats abruptly, standing up in their places with similar pace, the weight of their teenage lives seeming to hang on their shoulders. 

 

It was a pitiful sight. 

 

True, midterms were coming up but that alone couldn’t be the sole reason for the black cloud looming over Aizawa’s homeroom. 

 

“Right what’s wrong with you lot?” he asked in a low growl. 

 

He didn’t expect anyone to answer his rhetorical question; maybe Iida perhaps; but Asui raised her hand straight away, the look on her face stoic. 

 

“Asui,” he called, granting the girl permission to speak. 

 

“Heroics class was hard yesterday,” she replied shortly, a murmur of agreement echoing around the room. 

 

“Heroics class is meant to be hard,” Aizawa replied, his eyes narrowed. “Yaoyorozu,” he called, noticing the girls shy hand. 

 

“Most of us had to go to Recovery Girl and then go straight to PE,” Yaoyorozu stated. “I think that’s maybe why we’re so tired?”

 

“You’re all training to be heroes,” Aizawa replied bluntly. “Don’t expect me to take pity on you because you’re tired from classes,” 

 

“Yes sir,” Yaoyorozu replied quietly.

 

“Liven up,” Aizawa snapped, pulling a worksheet from his desk. The class shuffled in their places, straightening up a tad but their eyes still downcast. “Right. We have some activity to do on...” 

 

He peered at the sheet. 

 

“...mental health,” Aizawa finished with a sigh. 

 

Because the morning couldn’t get any more depressing. 

 

“The school has asked me to complete this worksheet with you in today’s homeroom which quite frankly is ridiculous seeing as they are twenty-five questions on here to do in twenty minutes,”

 

The pro looked up from his ramble to meet the twenty teenage stares. 

 

Well... nineteen. He couldn’t exactly see Hagakure’s eyes. 

 

Aizawa looked back at the sheet skimming the content and re-reading the first instruction, relaying it out loud for his class, trying not to cringe. 

 

“Right, first it’s telling me to remind you all that UA is a ‘safe space’ which you should all know anyway and to also remind you that it’s ‘okay not to be okay’, which again, hopefully you already know as well,” 

 

Silence returned his ramble. This was going to be fun. Aizawa looked up and flashed his students one of his more scarier smiles. 

 

“With that in mind, how are we feeling today?” 

 

There was a pause as the students stared back at their homeroom teacher in mixed amusement and horror. Most of 1A had already written the lesson off, most wanted to go back to sleep. As a muttering of ‘fine’s’ and ‘good’s’ came back, Aizawa realised he needed to change tact. He looked back at the sheet again. 

 

‘Before beginning the exercise, remember to create a warm and conversational environment with your class in order to allow them to feel safe opening up to their true thoughts and feelings,’

 

Jesus. He had twenty minutes for all of this? 

 

It almost made him think of Hizashi. The man was constantly trying to get Aizawa to pipe up about things he knew were bothering him. Most of the time he’d just run him down to the ground with mindless conversation before Aizawa gave up but that wasn’t going to work here... 

 

Unless. 

 

Aizawa smacked the sheet back onto his desk, loud enough for the class to hear, turning himself towards one student in particular. 

 

“Midoryia!”

 

“A-Aizawa-Sensei?” the boy asked, standing up and nearly tripping over his chair. 

 

“What’s the latest hero news this week?” 

 

“Err... I...” Midoryia looked down at his hands thinking. Aizawa let him, the rest of the class more awake now; confused. 

 

It didn’t take long before the boy's eyes lit up in thought. 

 

“Oh! Kamui Woods fought this villain who could blind you if he looked at you!” he cried with a grin, Aizawa motioning at him to continue. “Errr well he used his quirk to create multiple barricades to hinder the villain’s attacks, which was really quite clever if you think about it because that way he always knew where the villain was because he could feel him! Oh! And! The villain could only look in one place or he’d lose his power so it meant the heroes could trap him with a blind spot! It was so cool! I wish I could have seen it happen,”

 

“We’re glad you didn’t,” Todoroki interrupted with a grin. “Or you would have fought him yourself,”

 

“Heh, true I guess,” Midoryia replied sheepishly. Aizawa grinned softly. 

 

“Okay sit down Midoryia,” he commanded.  “Anybody else seen any hero news this week or any news in general they want to share?” 

 

Ashido raised her hand. 

 

“Ashido!” 

 

“Well it’s not hero news but I heard that a load of penguins from Tokyo zoo escaped from their enclosure a few days ago,” she smiled. 

 

There were a few scattered laughs, a handful of smiles. 

 

Aizawa began to see a little bit of weight lifting. 

 

Asui was next to raise her hand, speaking before permission. 

 

“What’s the coolest hero fight that happened when you were in UA Sensei?” she asked, the class perking up in interest. 

 

Aizawa thought for a moment, his mind flicking through scene after scene in his head before finally settling on a memory that sparked warmth. 

 

“All Might has just returned from the States,” he replied with ease. “There was a drug theft at the airport he got into. It was this villain who could imitate another’s strength with a touch? All Might hadn’t even collected his luggage...” he paused to smile, “But, still, he chased after that villain and took him down before the pro’s even got there. The whole thing was televised on the news, I remember back in the day I’d have to watch the highlights on the evening news. I was enrolled in the General Studies Course at UA at the time but I always thought if I were to make an entrance to the Hero Course I’d like it to be as inspiring as that was,” 

 

“And was it?” Kirishima piped up. 

 

“Naturally,” Aizawa grinned. “Right! Iida!”

 

Iida stood, facing his teacher seriously. 

 

“If you could have one other quirk but your own, what would it be?” Aizawa asked. 

 

Iida looked taken aback. He thought for a moment before opening his mouth;

 

“You can’t say you’d keep your own quirk,” Aizawa interrupted. “Forget family honor,” 

 

Iida closed his mouth. 

 

“I’d choose Kirishima’s quirk,” he finally decided, the redhead turning his head with a start. 

 

“Woah! Dude! Why?!” he asked with a shy smile. 

 

“I would like to stick with a physical quirk to make the most use of my current field training but I think my kicks would be suited to a hardening quirk, aiding in special moves such as Kirishima’s full hardening. I believe the outcome would be extremely powerful,” he replied honestly. 

 

Kirishima looked as if he was welling up. 

 

“If you wanted a physical quirk why not mine?” Bakugou pouted from the other side of the room. 

 

“I already make use of fire and explosions from my engines so I’d want a change,” Iida replied quickly without looking in the boy's directions. “And before you ask, I would not want Midoryia’s quirk even if it is the most powerful, physically speaking, because I don’t understand it fully and to me, that’s an important aspect of being able to use a quirk to the best of my abilities.”

 

The class was fully turned to Iida now, a few looking back to gauge Aizawa’s response. Iida suddenly blushed, pushing his glasses up his nose. 

 

“I apologise Aizawa-Sensei. I elaborated on my answer,” 

 

“It’s fine. Sit down,” Aizawa said with a motion of his hand. “It was a good answer. You should all have a good grasp on your strengths and weaknesses in order to find out what you need to work on,” 

 

The class nodded, fully engaged now. Asui’s hand rose once more. 

 

“Which quirk would you choose Aizawa-Sensei?” she asked quickly. Aizawa raised one eyebrow. 

 

“This isn’t a call and response lesson,” he muttered but to no avail. The whole of Class 1A was already waiting for his answer it seemed. 

 

Brilliant. 

 

“Suneater’s,” he replied. “Being able to take on the abilities of most animals and use them in combat gives me a far wider range of options than I currently have,”

 

His students satisfied with his answer and Midoryia beginning to scribble into his notebook, Aizawa moved on. This time he glanced at the sheet, picking it up. 

 

“Now on this sheet, the first couple of questions revolve around…” 

 

He sighed under his breath.

 

“Body positivity,”

 

1A’s expressions looked deserted again.

 

“Uraraka!” 

 

The girl was up in an instant, a smile lighting up her features. Aizawa peered at a question on the sheet

 

“Five things you like about yourself,” 

 

Her smile faltered. 

 

“Oh,” she whispered, well aware now that there were eyes on her. “I like...” 

 

Aizawa frowned. His usual self wanted to hurry her up but there was... something. Sixteen? Self confidence issues would be a factor. He guessed…

 

“I like my hair I suppose!” Uraraka finally replied. “I like my personality as well? Most of the time...”

 

Aizawa cut her off with a hand. 

 

“Right. Somebody give her a hand,” he asked. 

 

Midoryia, Iida, Kaminari, Jiro, Shoji, and Mineta were the first to bombard her with compliments;

 

“Uraraka-san! Your work ethic is admirable!”

 

“You’re one of my best friends,”

 

“You always look great! Even when you’re fighting!”

 

“You have an amazing smile!”

 

“I’d kill for your figure,”

 

“Your tits are so big!”

 

Asui clocked Mineta round the head. 

 

Aizawa glared for a second but went back to the sheet. 

 

“What do you think of that?” he asked the young student. Uraraka beamed back at him.

 

“I like that I am lucky enough to have such awesome friends!” she replied. Aizawa’s nose flared at the answer but he nodded regardless.

 

“So the aim of this I think is to talk about your insecurities-“

 

Bakugou huffed, crossing his arms and looking in the other direction. Aizawa wanted to join him but plowed on regardless.

 

“-Have a short discussion amongst yourselves and we’ll move on,” he yawned, not expecting much to come from it. 

 

“What about?’ Todoroki asked, confused. Aizawa looked at the sheet for inspiration.

 

“Your insecurities..?” he replied

 

“Well I’ve always been insecure about my height,” Tokoyami stated.

 

Oh jeez. His sleeping bag was calling to him.

 

“Same,” Yaoyorozu replied warmly as Aizawa hooked one leg into the fabric. “I was always the tallest girl in primary school and so the other girls would use to call me a boy. Not that there’s a problem with that,” 

 

“When I was a kid, my tail used to get in the way of people, especially when I was riding things like public transport. Cause like, oh God, it wags - There was a time in my life when I didn’t want it anymore but I got over it,” Ojiro shrugged. 

 

“No!” Kaminari whined, hugging onto the tail, Ojiro tickling his face playfully. “I used to give people electric shocks so no one would want to hug me,” he added, clutching onto Ojiro. 

 

Aizawa pulled the zipper up, looking at the time on the wall. Ten minutes to go. Maybe he could just let the class chat about their mindless issues for the rest of the-

 

“I literally hate my body,” Jiro said solemnly. 

 

“Okay! Enough!” Aizawa cried out with a grimace. “Asui!” he asked, exasperatedly at the girls shooting hand. 

 

“Do you like the way you look?” 

 

“I couldn’t care less,” he replied, shutting her up. 

 

The dark cloud was back. Hanging over the room like a filter. Aizawa surveyed his students with a frown. He was… confused.

 

“It is important to remember that your bodies are all extremely gifted. That’s why you have all been able to study here and keep up with the programme,”

 

A few glances upwards, a shift in seats. 

 

Aizawa continued;

 

“Wanting to better and change something about yourself is productive. However, hating and disliking yourself will only falter you in the long run. You think villains and victims care about how you look?” 

 

“But people do!” Jiro interrupted. “And it does matter when you’re a hero because you have to be popular to keep up your career,”

 

There was a silence, Aizawa narrowing his eyes on the teen. Jiro had always been self-conscious, as a teacher he would have had to be neglecting his role not to see that. And yet Aizawa still felt as if he was.

 

“Sorry Sensei,” Jiro whispered, face red with embarrassment.

 

“Be popular because you have a brilliant mind,” he replied softly. “Be popular for your talent as a hero and for being kind and fair. Always have yourself to fall back on,” 

 

Jiro looked away, the rest of the class looking down at their desks or into their hands. 

 

“There was a hero I knew when I was growing up,” Aizawa started. “She was known for her beauty. Her quirk could produce spider webs but she wasn’t ‘good’ at it; she used it as her ‘look’. In fact, her entire career was based around how others saw her,”

 

“What happened?” Sero breathed, the only student daring to crack the atmosphere. 

 

“Some fan got obsessive, followed her home from a villain fight and threw acid in her face. She didn’t die but she was massively disfigured. Practically ended her career but instead of letting it, she went back and trained her quirk. Properly this time. Changed her image as well. When she realised that she was all but ‘ugly’ in the public eye she used it to her advantage. Became an underground hero and used her disfigurement as an intimidation tactic. She’s still a charming and intellectual woman but she’s tougher now; I’d say better,” 

 

“What happened to her after that?” Hagakure piped up.

 

“Oh, she still works underground. I know her well,” Aizawa replied with a smile. 

 

“Black Widow!” Midoryia suddenly cried from his seat. “Oh wow! She’s so talented!”

 

“That’s her,” Aizawa confirmed to his biggest hero fan-boy. Midoryia beamed, his eyes shining as he scribbled furiously. “So what I’m trying to say is that looks are not even remotely essential to be a good hero. You do not need to please the public eye. You just need to save lives,” 

 

“Yeah but what if we never manage to save lives?” Kaminari asked, the discussion turning. 

 

“What’s the point of us then?” Ashido echoed. 

 

By this point, even Bakugou looked solemn. 

 

“The point of you?” 

 

Aizawa could feel his voice rising.

 

“The point of you? What?! What?!”

 

“What?!” Bakugou snapped back. “I’m going to be number one hero,”

 

“That’s an ambition,” Aizawa replied quickly. “What happens if none of you save anyone?”

 

“My existence will be in vain,” Todoroki was the first to answer. 

 

“I’ll have let down my family name…” Iida replied.

 

“I’ll have let down my family!” Uraraka added. 

 

“And my mum,” Midoryia agreed.

 

“I think I’d become pretty depressed,” Yaoyorozu shrugged. 

 

“You kids need to liven up,” Aizawa muttered, scraping his hair back with one hand. “Asui!”

 

The girl dropped her hand. 

 

“What’s your purpose?”

 

“Until I read this sheet?” Aizawa asked, deadpan. “I didn’t give a damn,”

 

“Purpose is in your own head anyway,” Asui agreed. 

 

“This is complicated,” Aoyama complained, looking at his nails. “My purpose is to look fabulous of course and therefore I will save people with my looks,”

 

“And we’ve come full circle!” Tokoyami stated sarcastically. 

 

“Yeah!” Kaminari laughed hollowly, looking at Jiro. “What if you hate the way you look as well?”

 

“Piss off,”

 

“Not cool dude,” Ashido prodded him. 

 

“What? I didn’t mean it like that! I think she looks good,” Kaminari replied, pouting. 

 

“Thanks. I guess,” Jiro muttered. 

 

The bell rang. 

 

The class began to get up, collecting their bags from under their desks and shoving their pencils back into their pencil cases. Aizawa looked down at the sheet, skimming it. 

 

They’d covered one question. One.

 

“Remember!” he called out into the room. “Mocks start next week so start preparing now! That includes stationary as well! I don’t want to be handing out fifteen pencils on the day, just because you’ve forgotten to bring a spare!”

 

A chorus of ‘yes sensei’ came back. 

 

It felt all kinds of wrong. 

 

“Yooooo Shota!” Mic cried from the entrance of homeroom as the kids worked their way out of class around him. “You look tired!”

 

“I am tired,” he replied, picking up some essays from his drawer.

 

“It’s not even nine!” Mic grinned, coming over to his best friend. “What’s got you all depressed?”

 

“I’ve been reading the atmosphere,” he replied, shoving the sheet into Mic’s hands.

 

“Ohhh sad stuff,” he pouted. “How did it go?”

 

“Bad,” Aizawa replied mutely. 

 

“Ah they’re teenagers, they’ll get over it,” Mic smiled. “They were probably just tired,”

 

Aizawa sighed.

 

“Tired? Or letting their guard down?”

 

“Shota?” Mic asked, a hand resting on Aizawa’s shoulder. 

 

“I just…”

 

Aizawa thought back to his days at UA, his teenage years, how Nemuri and Hizashi had been, what they fought about and worried about and dreamt about…

 

“I think I’ve been missing something big,”

Notes:

I always reply to your comments as they give me life ily all
Thank you for reading to the end xx

Chapter 22: Cold

Summary:

A cold hits class 1-A and the only person not sick?

Well, that would be Bakugou of course.

And like HELL is he letting any of those extras infect him.

Notes:

Hiyaaaaa!

I hope you're all having a fabulous week! With the Sub of the movie coming out on Kiss and the MANGA OMG it's been a sick seven days for the fandom :D

Also I finally have a Beta (thank the lords) so a MASSIVE thanks to purplemalemute for making me up my game !!!! I appreciate it so much - Just... people taking time out of their own lives to want to help me out and comment etc. It makes my heart uwu :)

I really hope you enjoy this chapter!!

See you next week x

It started with Todoroki. 

 

He walked into homeroom on Monday with a bright red nose, watery eyes and several dozen tissues shoved into his pockets. Aizawa had given him a raised eye but left him be.

 

It was a cold? What’s was the worst that could happen?

 

Aizawa’s question was answered ten minutes later when one particular sneeze shot ice across Tokoyami’s chair and set Yaoyorozu’s textbook on fire. 

 

It went downhill from there. 

 

By the time it got to Thursday, most of Class 1-A were sick and classes had been called off for the day. Dorms were like a catalyst for illness and the common cold spread like wildfire.

 

Most of the students had been acting as normal, beside the constant sniffing and the fact that there was now a wad of toilet roll in every room. Aizawa had also gotten so bored of handing out painkillers to the sixteen-year-olds, he’d considered going to Nezu to petition lifting the ban.

 

His only saving grace, surprisingly, was Bakugou. The boy had point blank refused to get sick and, so far, it had worked. He wore a mask at all times, practically forcing them onto the rest of his classmates. He refused to eat food that anyone else had touched, insisting to make his own, which usually ended up with him making everyone's dinner. 

 

Half the time Aizawa spotted him he was furiously applying hand sanitiser. 

 

Bakugou was making dinner once again on the Thursday night, resigning himself to making twenty-one servings of stew in an effort to stay out of everyone's way.

 

Well, kind of.

 

“Bakugou!” Kirishima called from the doorway, coughing from the effort.

 

Bakugou looked up from the kitchen, Aizawa was working on marking essays at the table. It was easier to dole out painkillers from the common area than it was his own room. 

 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou snapped back, Kirishima ignored him and walking towards the two. Bakugou immediately picked up anti bac spray, holding it in his best friends direction. “I won’t hesitate.”

 

“Okay, okay!” Kirishima laughed, holding up his hands and taking a seat next to Aizawa instead. Aizawa remarked something about personal space but moved his markings regardless, pushing tissues in his student's direction. “I was just wondering if you’d done the English homework yet?”

 

“Yeah, I have.” came the short reply.

 

“Can you help me out?” 

 

“Over Skype.”

 

“Bro!” Kirishima cried with a grin, standing up and blowing his nose pathetically. “Don’t you think you’re taking this whole ‘not getting sick thing’ a bit far?”

 

Bakugou replied with a menacing shake of the antibacterial spray. 

 

“Skype.” he repeated. “After dinner.”

 

“Okay well thanks, I’ll be in my room.” Kirishima replied. “Aizawa-Sensei, do you have the sheet?”

 

Aizawa nodded and grabbed a sheet of paper from underneath his markings. There were a list of the student's names written down one side, the times they were allowed to take painkillers next to them. A pretty efficient system if he did say so himself.

 

“You took cold and flu tablets three and a bit hours ago.” he noted, looking up at the clock on the wall. “Come back in forty minutes and you can take some more.” 

 

Kirishima grinned in reply, saving his voice and shuffling off back to his room. 

 

Bakugou growled under his breath and turned the hob on.

 

Aizawa continued marking.

 

Yaoyorozu was the next to dare entry into the kitchen. She walked over to the table, Aizawa already prepared, trading a cross on his timed sheet for a sachet of hot blackcurrant drink. 

 

“Can I have another sachet?” she croaked. “I was going to make one for Jiro.” 

 

Aizawa looked up at her, his eyes narrowed. 

 

“Sit.” he instructed, grabbing his phone and flicking on the flashlight. “Open.” 

 

Yaoyorozu did as she was told, opening her mouth so Aizawa could look at the back of her throat. He could feel Bakugou’s eyes on him from a distance as he sighed and shut his phone off. 

 

“You’ve got tonsillitis.” he announced, hearing Bakugou hiss from behind him. “Go back to your room and sleep. Recovery Girl is coming round in a few hours. She’ll be able to relieve some of the pain but only if you have the strength.”

 

Yaoyorozu nodded mutely as Aizawa took the drinks sachets out of her hand. 

 

“I’ll make you the drinks,” he sighed, shooing her away. “Is Jiro still in your room?”

 

Yaoyorozu nodded once more.

 

“Okay. Send her back to her own room. Get some rest.”

 

Aizawa watched his student leave the room tiredly and turned to the kitchen to boil some water when he was cut off by Bakugou blocking the entrance to the sink.

 

“Do you want to do it or should I?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. The explosive teen eyed up the medication for a second before turning and flicking on the tap, grabbing a pan from the cupboard. 

 

“I’ll do it,” he muttered, opening another cupboard. “Which one’s Momo’s mug?”

 

“How should I know?” Aizawa retorted. 

 

Bakugou shot him a look.

 

“The blue polka dot with the fancy handle. Jiro’s is the ‘Death’ mug.” Aizawa muttered eventually, ignoring the grin appearing on Bakugou’s face.

 

“Got it.”

 

“Bakugou!” a voice called from the doorway. 

 

“What the fuck do you want engine bender?” Bakugou snapped back instantly, the grin vanishing as Iida appearing in view. 

 

“Engine what..? I was just wondering at what time dinner would be ready?”

 

“Half an hour. Tops.”

 

“Okay.” 

 

Iida hung for a while, the water bubbling in the pot, Aizawa filling both mugs with the cold and flu drink. 

 

“Can I be of assistance?” he finally called into the room, arms waving, his tone raised a touch. Aizawa took the mugs and passed them over to the student. 

 

“You can take these to Yaoyorozu and Jiro,” he replied. “They will probably both still be in Yaoyorozu’s room. Then you can go around and tell everyone that dinner is at six if you want.”

 

‘Of course Aizawa-Sensei!”

 

Iida spoke quickly, taking the mugs in both hands, Aizawa taking the chance to feel his forehead. 

 

“How do you feel?”

 

“Better, thank you Sensei. But grateful for the opportunity to rest!” Iida replied with a bow, the drinks tipping precariously. 

 

“Classes restart again tomorrow.” Aizawa warned, turning away and shoving his hands into his pockets. Iida nodded and headed in the direction of Yaoyorozu’s room. 

 

“Wash your hands.” Bakugou piped up from where he was chopping carrots. 

 

Aizawa snorted. 

 

“You forget yourself Bakugou,” he replied, going over to the sink and taking the soap in one hand. “I’m still your teacher.”

 

Bakugou huffed something about him ‘being more of a dad’ but Aizawa eventually caught a small apology from under his breath. 

 

The two fell into a comfortable silence, Aizawa grabbing another pan out and filling it for the stew, as Bakugou moved on from carrots to green beans. The only sound, the knife on the chopping board. Oh, and the occasional angered huff.

 

Some things never changed. 

 

This latest for a good five minutes, Aizawa getting used to his most explosive student being quiet. It was so quiet in fact that both boys jumped out of their skin as the door from the corridor burst open.

 

“Aizawa!” a voice cried, Kaminari appearing in view.

 

“Kaminari? Are you okay?” Aizawa asked, hurriedly drying his hands on Bakugou’s tea towel, much to his disgust. The sun had begun to set outside, the golden light making the teen look as if he was glowing. 

 

“Yeah. Kinda…” Kaminari looked shiftier than Iida, his hair spitting up at right angles, his whole body twitching. “Aghhh, I don’t know how to say this…”

 

“Spit it out.” Aizawa snapped, trying to catch the teenagers averted eyes. 

 

“I had a sneezing fit and it set off my quirk,” Kaminari replied, eyes coming to focus on the floor between them. “I kinda electrocuted Ojiro and Sero… But they’re fine! Just a little… dazed?”

 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Aizawa muttered, eyeing the boy up. “Are you going to sneeze again?”

 

“I don’t know!” Kaminari cried nervously “Probably? Maybe?!” 

 

“I’m going to go check on Ojiro and Sero,” Aizawa announced gruffly. “Bakugou grab the shock blanket from the cupboard. Kaminari stay here… No wait, stay away from the kitchen. Just in case. Turn the TV off at the wall whilst you’re at it.” 

 

Kaminari did as he was told, Aizawa turning walking down the corridor to the lift. Bakugou eyed up his classmate, his nose flared.

 

“You’re a fucking moron.” he announced, drying his hands off as well and turning to pace down the corridor. 

 

“I can’t help it!” Kaminari cried sheepishly, craning his neck to see into the kitchen. “What you making?” 

 

“Stay away from it Pikafuck.” Bakugou growled, his eyes narrowed forming deep, angry lines on his forehead catching as shadows in the sunlight. 

 

“Not moving,” Kaminari replied, taking a step back for good measure and looking down at his hands. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to hurt you either...”

 

To his surprise, Bakugou turned back, letting out the angriest sigh the teen had ever heard, his head cocked up to look down at his classmate. He held the posture for a moment before relaxing a little, one eye rising up in attitude. 

 

“Shut up brain dead, it wasn’t your fault.” he eventually replied. 

 

“But you said!”

 

“I said you were a fucking moron. I didn’t mean it in any context.” Bakugou growled, annoyed at the fact he had to explain himself. 

 

“Oh righttt, yeah!” Kaminari grinned. “Like some people say ‘hi’ or ‘how are you?’. You say ‘you’re a-“

 

“-Fucking moron,” Bakugou finished. “Exactly.” 

 

The two grinned at each other for a second before Bakugou turned on his heel and opened up a side cupboard, disappearing and reappearing, this time hidden beneath a mound of blanket, throwing it in Kaminari’s direction. 

 

Kaminari caught it with surprising accuracy, draping it on top of his head and covering it over himself like a cloak. 

 

“Thanks, man.” 

 

“S’alright. Moron.” 

 

Aizawa reappeared with Ojiro and Sero in tow, both kids looking tired and... twitchy. 

 

“Sit,” Aizawa instructed. “And stay. Same with you Kaminari.” 

 

“Yes Aizawa-Sensei.” Kaminari replied, choosing the opposite sofa to his friends. Sero turned to look over in the direction of the kitchen as Aizawa went back to grading. 

 

“Hey Bakugou, long time no see!” he grinned. 

 

Bakugou looked across from the fridge his nostrils flared. 

 

“You saw me yesterday you glorified tape dispenser,” he replied shortly, grabbing some tofu from the middle shelf and using his elbow to close the fridge again. “That electric shock made you dumb?” 

 

“Nah it cleared out my blocked nose actually! Pretty sweeeeeet.” Sero replied, drawling out the last two syllables. 

 

“Why diddn dat hap’n do me?” Ojiro’s voice rose from where he’d sunk down into the cushions. 

 

“Sucks to be you!” Sero grinned playfully. 

 

“Are you guys okay?” Kaminari asked quickly. 

 

“Yeah of course!” Sero replied grinning. 

 

“Don’t worry boutit.” Ojiro added. 

 

“Boutit..?” Kaminari began. 

 

“About it.” Bakugou called from the hob. “A. Bout. It.” 

 

“Ahhhhh.”

 

“Moron.”

 

“Where’s the remote?” Sero asked to nobody in particular, Aizawa picking it up from beside his markings and throwing it in his direction. “Thanks Sensei!” 

 

“Don’t have it too loud, I’m still marking.” their teacher warned as Sero flicked through channels, from talk show to music channel, finally landing on-

 

“Banana school?” Ojiro groaned, Aizawa looking up to see the two very animated presenters demonstrating how not to work in a pawn shop. “Dhis show ig utter crap.”

 

“You can’t talk,” Sero retorted, looking around the room, brandishing finger guns. “Ha! Get it?” 

 

“Was that meant to be funny, sticky bitch?” Bakugou snapped, slamming the lid on the pan. 

 

Aizawa glared.

 

“You know it was.” Sero grinned. 

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“Can we change the channel though?” Kaminari asked, looking up from his phone.

 

“No, I like this programme!” Sero cried. 

 

“You also like whatever that British thing was?” Kaminari replied. 

 

“Oh YES! BOGIES!”

 

“Don’t you have homework to do?” Aizawa finally snapped, lifting his head up to address his students, eyes narrowed. “You seem rather chipper for students who are supposedly ill.”

 

“Sorry Sensei.” Kaminari and Sero chorused, the theme tune of Banana School and the bubbling from the hob taking over. Aizawa got on with marking peacefully for a moment, Bakugou beginning to furiously wipe down the surfaces with a cloth. 

 

“Kaminari.” Aizawa suddenly asked into the silence. 

 

“Sensei?” the boy looked up from where his teacher was tapping a pen onto the table, eyes downcast onto the work he was marking. 

 

“What’s nineteen minus five?”

 

“Errr…”

 

Aizawa lazily looked up, squinting at the seemingly braindead student.

 

“Fourteen?” he eventually replied.

 

“Congratulations,” Aizawa drawled, turning the piece of work he was marking around so the boys could see. “So why have you put thirteen here?”

 

“What..?” Kaminari asked, Ojiro and Sero grinning wildly from the opposite sofa.

 

“The villain attack on Nagano began five years ago in the January of 2013…” their teacher quoted, Kaminari going red as he heard his work being read aloud.

 

“I forgot what year it was?” he offered.

 

“If you change it now, I’ll pretend I didn’t see it, seeing as it completely derails your argument otherwise.” Aizawa sighed, pushing the paper in the boy's direction. Kaminari shot up, the blanket dropping off his shoulders as he struggled to pick it back up, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. 

 

“Use your damn sleeve, shock-cock.” Bakugou hissed, grabbing bowls out and placing them on the side with some amount of force. 

 

“Stop being such a germaphobe!” Kaminari sniffed, grabbing the pen and scribbling onto his essay. As he did a commotion came from the corridor, a group of 1-A walking into the common area.

 

Bakugou brandished a ladle menacingly. 

 

“None of you extras come near the kitchen!” he yelled croakily. “I’m dishing up, then you can take your damn food, alright?” 

 

“Thank you for the food Bakugou!” Iida cried, Asui and Uraraka nodding enthusiastically from beside him in matching onesies.

 

“Where’s Midoryia?” Sero asked, getting up from the sofa and pulling Ojiro up with him. 

 

“He’s coming, he’s just on the phone with All Might!” Uraraka smiled, before sneezing abruptly and floating three inches into the air. Asui pulled her down with her tongue. 

 

“Dwhy?” Ojiro sniffed, sitting down at the table beside Aizawa and promptly shoving his face into his tail with a groan.

 

“Oh All Might phoned him! It was really cute.” Uraraka grinned, her nose twitching. Iida placed his hands on her shoulders as a precaution. “Are you okay Mashirao?” 

 

“He’s still sick and now he’s been electrocuted as well.” Sero replied for him. A chair seemed to shift back on its own, Hagakure sitting beside him, her head resting between his shoulder blades. 

 

“Don’t get more sick.” Ojiro sniffed. 

 

“It’s okay, it’s the same cold!” she replied, Ojiro’s tail hair flattening as she continued to comfort him.

 

“Momo is asleep.” Jiro announced, walking into the kitchen and placing the two, now empty, mugs on the counter. In return, she got hit in the face by a cloud of antibacterial spray. “The fuck?! BAKUGOU?!”

 

“GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN, AIRPODS!” came the angered reply. 

 

“Bakugou!” Aizawa snapped. “Apologise!” 

 

“SORRY! GET OUT!” 

 

“JEEZ OKAY! I'm out!” Jiro cried back, sending Bakugou a look before stepping out of the kitchen and walking around the counter. “Can I at least serve dinner?”

 

“No. Choose someone less sick.” Bakugou hissed.

 

“Fine! Iida, you’re up! I’ll hold Uraraka down.” Jiro called behind her. 

 

“Guy’s I’m fi-ATCHOO!”

 

This time Aizawa managed to catch the girl before she uprooted the table. 

 

“This is a nightmare.” he muttered, as the rest of 1-A traipsed in for dinner. 

 

“Aizawa.” Tokoyami said from beside him, looking up at his weary teacher, his hands pulling down on his t-shirt. 

 

“Yes Tokoyami?” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Dark Shadow is refusing to come out whilst everyone is sick.” 

 

Aizawa sighed. 

 

“Is it a problem?”

 

“Not right now but… it’s worrying me.” Tokoyami confessed.

 

“How are you feeling?” Aizawa asked.

 

“I’m better,” Tokoyami replied. “It’s because everyone else is also ill? I think?”

 

“Right. Have dinner and then, after Recovery Girl has been, come knock on my door. We’ll see if Kan can cover this place for half an hour and I’ll take you down to Beta. See if we can coax him out.” Aizawa reassured his student softly, tying his capture weapon around Uraraka’s waist. 

 

“You don’t have to do that Aizawa-Sensei.” Tokoyami gushed.

 

“Please,” Aizawa asked, staring at his student wildly. “Please give me an excuse to get out of this dorm.”

 

“Okay…”

 

“There you go Uraraka!” Aizawa announced, tying the other end of his capture weapon to the sofa leg behind them with a sigh. “You’re a human balloon. How do you feel?”

 

Uraraka giggled in response and Aizawa smirked at his own joke, looking around at the rest of his class, settling down to eat. The majority of their colds were on their way out by now, save Ojiro and Yaoyorozu, and 1-A seemed back to normal. 

 

As back to normal as 1-A got anyway.

 

“Midoryia!” Iida cried as the green-haired boy walked into the common area, a sheepish grin on his face. “How was All Might?”

 

“Oh! Good!” Midoryia replied with a grin. “He hopes you all get better as well!”

 

“Bullshit.” Bakugou retorted, Midoryia striding up to the counter and stopping short of the entrance. 

 

“Hey Kacchan,” he smiled. “Thank you for dinner!”

 

“Shut up tree-head.” Bakugou replied.

 

Midoryia began to turn but something caught his eye, instead turning to lean over the counter and into Bakugou’s personal space. 

 

“Fuck off.” Bakugou snapped. 

 

“You’re ill!” Midoryia cried, eyes wide.

 

“Fuck off!”

 

“Bakugou’s ill?” Iida reiterated, Aizawa catching wind of the conversation. 

 

“Yeah! Look! He’s gone all sweaty.” Midoryia pointed out, a few more classmates catching on and looking around. It was true. There was a thin sheen of sweat covering Bakugou’s forehead, his eyes creasing in annoyance. 

 

“Fuck. Off.”

 

“Isn’t he always sweaty though?” Kirishima piped up, joining Midoryia and Iida beside the kitchen. 

 

“Not like that.” Midoryia shrugged. 

 

“Awh Bakugou! Join the cold crew!” Kirishima chastised with a smirk. 

 

“Fuck off.” Bakugou resigned, taking to sit on the floor of the kitchen. “You’re all disgusting humans and I hate you all.” 

 

“Recovery Girl will be round in an hour.” Aizawa sighed. “Are you in pain Bakugou?”

 

“What?” a voice came from the floor.

 

“What Sensei.” Aizawa reprimanded. “And you’re sweating, which means you’re overusing your quirk. Is it painful?”

 

“Hrump.”

 

“Right. Painkillers are on the table.” Aizawa replied with a sigh. 

 

“And in the meantime, you can borrow this right?” Kirishima said, taking Kaminari’s blanket from off of his shoulders.

 

“No don’t!” Kaminari cried.

 

“WAIT!” Sero called.

 

“What? Why?” Kirishima began to ask before-

 

ATCHOO!

 

A crackle of electricity. 

 

A few scattered screams.

 

And the lights went out. 

Notes:

Comments are the way to my heart xx

Chapter 23: Endeavor..? The Last Phone Call

Summary:

“Who is this?” he asked. It wasn’t Endeavor, that was for sure.
An unmistakable voice replied, causing Aizawa to stop in the middle of the street.
“I need you to expel me.”

OR

Todoroki calls Aizawa in the middle of a panic attack and Aizawa goes full 'dad mode'

Notes:

We're nearly at 250 subs and my heart can't handle you all
THANK YOU !!!

Also now that this mini phone call series is complete I WILL be moving onto PROMPTS !!! Thank you for everybody who took the time to think of them for me, I am extremely humbled and I hope I do them justice!

With that being said, I hope you enjoy the chapter x

“Right, that’s it. We’re getting something to drink.”

 

Hizashi looked back at his best friend with a pout. Aizawa had stopped in the middle of the shopping mall, the weight of six carrier bags making his arms droop lazily towards the floor. 

 

Somehow Hizashi had persuaded him to come shopping. He’d insisted, at first, that they’d only go to a few shops. 

 

Four detours later and Aizawa had finally lost the will to live. 

 

“Just one more shop?” Hizashi asked, walking back to Aizawa, his eyes wide and hopeful. They were met with a cold glare. 

 

“That’s what you said three shops ago.” 

 

“Oh yeah!” 

 

“Stop grinning at me,” Aizawa muttered, shoving a Uniqlo bag into Hizashi’s chest. “Take your bags back as well. My arms are tired.” 

 

“You’re... decaffeinated!” Hizashi confirmed, taking an overload of plastic bags from his best friends arms, precariously balancing them on his arms. “One more shop and we’ll find somewhere. I promise!” 

 

Aizawa gave up.

 

“You’re the worst.” 

 

“But you just love spending time with me!” Hizashi grinned, watching Aizawa’s eyes roll to avoid having to look at his best friends stupid grin. It was coming up to the end of spring break and the shops were still heaving. Stores coming to the final days of their sales and the kids who were lucky enough to blag holiday work were out in full force; basking in the short-lived freedom. Aizawa hated it. The two had already bumped into Joke, Kan and even worse some of Class 1-A. Luckily it was some of the more quiet kids but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be talk. Especially as Aizawa was holding an official Present Mic figurine. 

 

It was a game they played, him and Mic. Go into a hero store and find the worst memorabilia of themselves and their colleagues. The person who won then had to give the winning item to the other, who had to make a scene of buying it. 

 

Just why did his students have to be there the one time he’d lost?

 

Half an hour, and two matching shirts down, Hizashi finally complied, letting Aizawa drag them out of the shopping center and to the quieter side of the town. 

 

“I want to go to a cat cafe.” Aizawa had shrugged when Hizashi had complained about the walk. “Besides, you’re the one who chose to buy all that crap.”

 

“My purchases are not crap!” Hizashi protested. “You gave me a second opinion on them all!”

 

“To shut you up!” Aizawa retorted as they crossed a particularly busy road just down from the center. 

 

“And? What have you bought? Eh?!” Hizashi chastised, grabbing Aizawa’s only bag and shaking the hand holding it to annoy him. “An Endeavor figurine whose arms are bent so out of proportion it looks like Midoryia after a villain attack.”

 

Aizawa snorted as his phone began to go off in his pocket. He pulled the Nokia out to look at the caller ID, dragging Hizashi down a familiar side road.

 

Endeavor.

 

“Hold on to this a sec,” he asked, handing Hizashi the hero shop bag and pressing the answer button. Hizashi protested but took the bag anyway, slowing down to match Aizawa’s new place as the pro tried to listen into the call. “Hello?”

 

At first, there was silence on the line. Aizawa half suspected that the man had butt-dialed him, but just as he was giving up, he heard something.

 

A sniff. 

 

“Who is this?” he asked. It wasn’t Endeavor, that was for sure. 

 

There were only a few people who had access to Aizawa’s pro hero number, and now that he had given up his regular phone, for someone to call him out of the blue like this? Best case scenario? A security breach. Worst case scenario..? Aizawa didn’t want to hazard a guess.

 

He’d lose his Nokia though, and the thought of that alone was unthinkable. 

 

“How have you got this number?”

 

An unmistakable voice replied, causing Aizawa to stop in the middle of the street. 

 

“I need you to expel me.”

 

“Todoroki?” 

 

“Please… I need you to expel me.”

 

“What are you talking about Todoroki?” Aizawa asked, an arm twisting round to hold the phone closer to his ear. Hizashi looked at his best friend, one eyebrow raised. He mouthed something at him but Aizawa shook his head, waving him away. His attention focused on the other side of the line. “Todoroki?”

 

There was another silence, the only sound on the line the unmistakable, but quickened, breathing of his student. 

 

“Todoroki, where are you?” Aizawa tried, his spare hand going to plug his other ear to block out the noise of the busy street behind them. Hizashi noticed, grabbing his best friends arm and leading him in the general direction of the cafe, knowing that they needed to be someplace quiet. “Todoroki, please answer, this is important. Where are you?” 

 

“At home.” 

 

His voice almost sounded like a whisper down the line, strained and croaky, his breath hitching. Aizawa mentally worked out the route in his head. To Endeavors house? About fifteen minutes, if he had his capture weapon on him. Which he didn’t. 

 

“Don’t come.” 

 

It was almost as if Todoroki knew what he was thinking.

 

“What’s happened?” Aizawa asked. He tugged on Hizashi’s grip, pulling him left as they arrived outside a little cafe surrounded by ivy. Aizawa hesitated to go in, instead pacing outside the front entrance. Hizashi dumped the bags by his feet watching his best friend. “Todoroki. I need you to talk to me.”

 

“Nothing, I just want you to expel me. Please just-“

 

This time the sentence was broken up by a sob. A proper, gut-wrenching lurch that made Aizawa’s heart thud in a way he didn’t like. Todoroki wasn’t one to show much emotion, especially to his teachers. In fact, Aizawa couldn’t recall a time where he’d seen the teenager cry. 

 

He didn’t want to place any more pressure on the boy so, despite his instincts, he kept quiet. His front teeth biting down on his bottom lip. Waiting. 

 

Hizashi caught his eye for a moment, beckoning to the door, somewhere quiet. Aizawa shook his head, switching the phone to the opposite ear, fidgeting with the pony tail on the top of his head. 

 

Todoroki was gaining composure on the other end of the line, Aizawa could hear his breathing quiet down. It was still unsteady, however, filling the uneasy silence as the seconds past. 

 

“I’m sorry...” the teenager finally managed, the effort of speaking causing him to take a sharp intake of breath straight after. Aizawa felt his grip tighten on the handset. “I’m sorry. I’m letting everyone down, I just, I-

 

“Nonsense. Just focus on breathing Todoroki. Calm down.” 

 

“-I can’t do it. I don’t want to go to UA anymore,”

 

Aizawa wasn’t stupid. 

 

“Don’t want to? Or has something happened that makes you believe that you shouldn’t?” he asked warningly. 

 

Another sob choked the line, this time followed by a frustrated grunt, the sound of a fist hitting what could have been a wall. Aizawa couldn’t tell. 

 

He hated not being able to tell. 

 

“I can’t stay on the phone,” Todoroki replied, his voice tight. “My dad... will find out.”

 

“Where is your father?” Aizawa asked. 

 

“On patrol. I’m using his personal phone.”

 

“Okay,” Aizawa replied, pushing his undone pony tail back. Glancing back at Hizashi looking on worriedly. “Todoroki what I want you to do is copy my number from your dad's phone and phone me on your phone,”

 

“I don’t have my phone.” Todoroki interrupted, sniffing. 

 

“Where’s your phone?” 

 

“My dad put it somewhere.”

 

“Okay,” Aizawa felt his jaw clench. “That’s fine. Do you have a house phone?”

 

“Yeah,”

 

“Use that. Phone me back and I promise I’ll answer.” 

 

There was a shuffling on the end of the line, an unease of how to answer his teacher. How to lie. 

 

“Todoroki,” Aizawa warned. “If I don’t get a phone call in the next ten minutes, I’m coming over.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Todoroki’s voice was barely a whisper. 

 

And the line went dead. 

 

Aizawa held the phone to his ear for a few seconds longer, before bringing his arm down, turning back to Hizashi. 

 

“Is he okay?” his best friend asked. 

 

Aizawa moved forward and grabbed the one bag that was his, pulling out the Endeavor figure and snapping the cheap plastic in two. 

 

He sighed, deeply, and looked back up at his best friend, the two pieces of plastic bridging the space between them. 

 

“Sorry,” Aizawa said. “I just... needed to do that.” 

 

“It’s alright,” Hizashi reassured him, throwing his best friend a grin. “It looks better now.”

 

Aizawa just about managed to smile back.  

 

“Let’s go in,” Hizashi beckoned, turning towards the door of the cafe. “He’s going to phone you back right?”

 

“I hope so,” Aizawa replied, hesitating by the entrance. 

 

“Then, it’d be better to go somewhere quiet,” Hizashi offered, reaching out to Aizawa with a bag laden arm. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” 

 

Hizashi smiled properly this time. He led Aizawa into the cafe, grabbing them a seat and paying for the cat room. 

 

“What was it about?” Hizashi asked as he sat down, two time slots for the cats in one hand.

 

“He wanted me to expel him,” 

 

“That doesn’t sound like Todoroki.”

 

“No...” Aizawa mused, fiddling with the end of the menu. “He was crying.”

 

“That definitely doesn’t sound like Todoroki.” 

 

“Endeavor took his mobile.”

 

“Well…” Hizashi paused. “Has he been training?”

 

Aizawa shrugged his mind elsewhere.

 

“When I used to do work at home, my parents never let me have my phone on me. No radio either. ‘Not whilst you’re working!’ That’s what my mother used to say-“

 

“This is Endeavor we’re talking about,” Aizawa cut him off. 

 

“Yeah, who you hold a personal grudge against.”

 

Aizawa focused back on folding the corner of the menu between his thumb and forefinger. 

 

“I’m not trying to justify anything Shota,” Hizahi sighed. “I’m just trying to stop you from jumping to conclusions.”

 

“It’s been three minutes,” Aizawa motioned to his phone. 

 

“Give him some time,” Hizashi replied. “He’s probably really embarrassed that he just cried in front of his teacher.”

 

Aizawa replied with a non-committal grunt. 

 

“Drink?” Hizashi prompted, getting up. “Coffee?”

 

Aizawa nodded. 

 

“Okay. Well, it’s on me.”

 

“It better be,” Aizawa finally spoke with a small grin. “I carried all that shopping for you.”

 

“Ha. Fine!” Hizashi retorted, his worried eyes betraying the wide smile etched across his features. “Don’t worry,” he added, taking the menu off of Aizawa’s fidgeting hands before wandering off to the counter. 

 

But Aizawa couldn’t do anything but worry. His mind was torn between waiting it out for the returned phone call and just going with his instincts and catch the next Subway to Endeavours house. 

 

He flipped the phone between his hands nervously, aware that the longer he waited, the fewer options he had. 

 

He had every right to go. Todoroki was his student and if he felt that his student was in danger, he had the power to make sure he was okay. And yet going to the boy's house? That was a massive line to cross, especially as he was acting as a civilian right now and not a pro. 

 

Aizawa was still contemplating his options when Hizashi came back, drinks in hand. 

 

“Shota?” he asked, snapping Aizawa back to the hum of the cat cafe. “We can go through to the cats if you want?”

 

“Yeah,” Aizawa replied mutely. 

 

“Can you bring the-?” 

 

“I’ve got the bags.”

 

The two made their way upstairs, replacing their shoes and applying hand sanitizer, before following one of the owners into the cat room. The place was much quieter than downstairs. The buzz of the coffee machines replaced with the padding of paws, people’s conversations dampened by the mellow guitar music playing in the background. 

 

They got seated beside a window, the glow of the afternoon sun beginning to dim the room around them. Multicolored throws and cushions lined the seating areas, cat toys littered on the floor, a treat dispenser set up in one corner. 

 

Aizawa settled the bags down, immediately checking his phone like some sort of madman. 

 

“How long’s it been?” Hizashi asked, catching his best friend as he placed the two drinks on the table in front, reaching down with one hand to pet a golden tabby. The kitten purred happily, curling itself around his hand. 

 

“Eight minutes.”

 

“And you told him ten?” Hizashi asked. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

Hizashi nodded but said no more, focusing his attention on the kitten who was now pawing at his wrist. 

 

The minutes passed in mutual silence. Aizawa kept on pressing the keypad, watching the seconds run on from the clock on the wall. Hizashi had made several feline friends now, teasing them with one of the cat toys littered on the floor. 

 

There was one cat, a black and white Persian, that had dared to approach Aizawa. It curled around his legs with a purr, undeterred by the lack of attention it was getting, instead, coming to rest on the pros feet. 

 

“It’s been ten minutes.” Aizawa announced, breaking the steady silence. Hizashi didn’t even look up, grabbing a booklet and forcing it in the pro’s direction. 

 

“Have a look at the cat names,” he said. “He’ll phone.” 

 

“I said ten minutes.”

 

“He’s a teenager,” Hizashi argued. “I’ll bet he’ll phone in the next... three minutes.”

 

He looked at Aizawa steadily, watching his best friend attempt to stare back before immediately pushing back on his chair and averting eye contact. 

 

“You can’t go to his house.”

 

“I know,” Aizawa snapped. 

 

“Okay, good.”

 

Hizashi held up the cat booklet, waving it in front of Aizawa’s face. 

 

“Look at the cute kitty cats,” he teased, Aizawa prising the booklet off of him and halfheartedly flicking through the pages. Hizashi peered over the table, reading upside-down. “That one’s called Momo.” 

 

Aizawa looked at the picture of the white and brown Siamese cat in the photo, scanning his eyes over the room. He found her, curled up against another customer, it’s back arched. 

 

“It doesn’t look like my Yaoyorozu,” he commented. 

 

“Your Yaoyorozu,” Hizashi scoffed with a smile. 

 

“Yes?” Aizawa replied indignantly. 

 

“Who’s the one beside your feet?” Hizashi asked. 

 

“Milky Way.” 

 

The phone rang. 

 

Aizawa scrambled for it, the booklet clattering down by his feet and causing Milky Way to startle, jumping up and pounding into Hizashi’s lap. 

 

“Todoroki?” 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei?” 

 

Todoroki’s voice sounded distant and tired. 

 

“I said ten minutes?” Aizawa asked, Hizashi giving him a look from across the table. 

 

“I ...” There was a pause. Aizawa couldn’t tell if it was a pause to breathe or a pause to flinch. “...I’m sorry.” 

 

“No, it’s fine,” Aizawa replied, letting his former nerves settle. 

 

“You’re not on your way over are you?” Todoroki asked, an edge to his voice that Aizawa could have mistaken for hopefulness. 

 

“No.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Are you okay?” Aizawa asked after a moment. He didn’t know what else he could say. What else he could do. Todoroki’s breathing had somewhat evened out from before. However, the constant movement over the line suggested that he was still fidgeting, worried. 

 

“Yes,” Todoroki replied quietly. Closing up, shutting off. 

 

“Are you hurt?” Aizawa asked. 

 

“No.”

 

“Are you on your own?”

 

“My dad will be back anytime.”

 

Something about that sentence didn’t put Aizawa’s mind at ease. 

 

“I’m fine now,” the boy spoke quickly. “Thank you for being concerned. I didn’t mean to interrupt your day-“

 

“Todoroki-“

 

“-I know you’re not going to expel me. I didn’t mean to ask. I was being stupid.”

 

“Todoroki-“

 

This time Todoroki kept quiet. 

 

Aizawa took a second. Tried to figure out what to say. 

 

“You don’t have to go into detail,” he finally began, listening out for Todoroki’s breathing, making sure the kid wasn’t going to work himself up into a panic attack again. “But I would like to know what got you so upset.” 

 

“I...”

 

Todoroki paused.

 

Aizawa waited. 

 

“I was learning moves with my father,” he finally started. “I wanted to get better... I see...” Todoroki took an uneasy breath. “I see...” 

 

Aizawa could hear the boy’s voice begin to rise again. He looked up at Hizashi, his best friends eyes scanning his own. 

 

“...I see Midoryia and Bakugou and everybody else... they keep on improving and I... I can’t.”

 

Aizawa heard Todoroki’s breath catch in his throat. The pro sat up straighter, catching Hizashi’s attention. His best friend mouthed at him, his forehead creased. Aizawa ignored it.  

 

“Todoroki?”

 

“I can’t do it. I’ve been trying all day and I just can’t.”

 

Todoroki’s voice had turned into a plaintive whine, a near on tantrum brewing on the other end of the phone. 

 

Aizawa bit his lip. 

 

“I can’t do his stupid moves.” 

 

Todoroki’s last sentence was followed by another resounding thud. 

 

That was it. Aizawa had had enough. 

 

“Todoroki I really don’t feel comfortable you being on your own right now-“

 

“I’m fine,” the teenager interrupted, catching himself. “I’m sorry. I just needed a break.”

 

Aizawa paused, listening in for Todoroki’s breathing. In his defense, the teenager took a shaky breath in, trying to somewhat calm himself down. ‘His’ moves. So his fire. Aizawa glanced at the clock on the wall.

 

Another thud echoed down the line. 

 

“Stop hitting the wall.”

 

“I’m not hitting the wall.” Todoroki retorted. 

 

God, the kid could be more difficult than Bakugou sometimes. 

 

“How long have you been training for?” 

 

“I don’t know?” the teen replied, the exhaustion creeping back into his tone. “Since nine?” 

 

Aizawa used his fingers to count up the hours. Just under six. 

 

“What’s happening?” Hizashi mouthed again, Aizawa pulling the receiver away from his mouth. 

 

“He’s been training with his father all day,” he whispered. “I’m concerned Hizashi.“

 

“Heat exhaustion?” Hizashi offered. Aizawa rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

 

“Could be.”

 

“We could call Endeavor?” 

 

Aizawa contemplated the option for a split second before shaking his head. No doubt Todoroki would have asked for his fathers help training, but Endeavours teaching was reckless. Borderline brutal. 

 

Aizawa put the phone back to his ear. 

 

“Todoroki?” 

 

He needed to decide. 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

The boy sounded distant again. Tired. 

 

“Todoroki, with your consent, I want to pick-“

 

Aizawa heard a door open somewhere in the background of the call. 

 

“My dad’s back. I should go.” 

 

Aizawa’s mind raced with ways to keep his student on the phone. Nothing came up trumps. 

 

“Todoroki.” he said quickly, making sure the boy hadn’t cut him off mid-call. 

 

“Sensei?”

 

There wasn’t anything he could do. 

 

“I think you’ve done enough training for today.” he finally stated. He could hear Endeavor now, his voice booming, calling out for his son. 

 

“He’s not making me,” Todoroki replied as if he could hear his teachers thoughts. “I want to get better. I need to catch up.”

 

A pause. Aizawa wanted to say something. Anything. 

 

“You phoned me.”

 

“Thank you for answering.”

 

“That’s not what I-“

 

But for the second time that day, the line went dead. 

 

“He hung up on you?” Hizashi asked as Aizawa placed his phone back on the table, making a grab for the coffee.

 

“Endeavour came home.” he replied lowly. 

 

“Okay well, at least he’s not alone.” Hizashi offered 

 

Milky Way took a tentative step back in Aizawa’s direction, the pro reaching a hand out and allowing the Persian back into his lap. The cafe seemed like a tranquil place in contrast to his pounding chest. Aizawa let out a slow sigh, turning his phone back over to see the screen. 

 

“If anything,” his best friend continued from opposite him. “It will be Todoroki who’s the one pushing himself too far. I’ve seen the boy stand up to his father more than once. He can fend for himself.”

 

“I never insinuated that he couldn’t.”

 

“I know.”

 

Aizawa looked away, turning to watch the hum of the city outside the window. Milky Way padded in his lap for attention.

 

“When I was in middle school there was this kid. My mum used to be friends with his mum.” 

 

Hizashi made a point of catching Aizawa’s eye, making sure he had his full attention before continuing. 

 

“I can’t remember his name now but this kid was a super genius. His quirk was something to do with memory and his mum wanted to get him into UA because, well y’know. This kid didn’t want to be a hero or anything, scaredy cat really, but for the general studies course.”

 

Hizashi paused to drink. Aizawa nodded, wondering where this was going. The phone call on playback in his head, visions of what could be going on just a tube ride away from him.

 

“Anyway,” Hizashi continued. “His mum pushed him hard. Too hard. This kid more than capable of passing the exam for sure, but the extra pressure wiped him out. He ended up bottling it, running out last minute.”

 

Aizawa stared at Hizashi. 

 

“Are you trying to make me feel better about any of this?” he asked through gritted teeth. 

 

“No. Again, not justifying,” Hizashi replied, arms raised. “I’m just pointing out. The system’s fucked. It’s the way it is in Asian countries and you know that. Parents putting too much pressure on kids, it happens, and way too often.”

 

Aizawa focused his attention on stroking Milky Way, feeling her purr from underneath a scarred hand. 

 

“I can agree with that.”

 

“That kids mother? Went mental when she found out her son ran out of the exam, but she kinda got it after that. Never spoke to my mum again that was for sure, but then again I got in.”

 

Hizashi grinned, his chest puffed out, overplaying it for the humor. It worked. Despite it all, Aizawa felt the corners of his mouth tug.

 

“How you managed that? We’ll never know.” he retorted.

 

“Classes start in two days,” Hizashi pointed out. “You can assess things properly then. We’ll work it out.”

 

Aizawa sighed deeply, the corner of his eye spotting a hand reaching across the table. He felt the hand grab the side of his arm and looked up once more to his best friends small smile and reassuring eyes. 

 

“We’ll work it out.”

 

Aizawa could only hope that he was right.

Notes:

Reviews are the way to my heart

Chapter 24: Puberty doesn't exist

Summary:

In which Aizawa thinks about the word Tetsutestu a lot, is called a dad by his own boss, plaits come in use and Momo is having Todoroki's own love child.
Well, at least that's what everyone thinks.

Notes:

Quite a few of you asked for more Aizawa with the girls (preferably comforting them) and here's my response to that!!
Thank you so much for the prompts!!!

Also massive kudos to purplemalemute who was up at like 6:30am grammar checking this crap (what do I do to deserve u guys, like)

Thank you for all the kind comments this week! Hope you enjoy!

“You want us to become dorm parents?”

 

The question hung in the air of Nezu’s office where Kan, Aizawa, and Yagi all stood. Silent. 

 

It had been two days since Bakugou’s successful rescue from the League of Villains. 

 

Aizawa shifted his eyes towards Kan. The pro was looking as confused as he was. Yagi, on the other hand, looked exhausted. Arm and head bandaged, eyes dark. It had been just days since his battle with All for One and the weight of losing their symbol of peace was still prominent in his mind. As it was the rest of the world. 

 

Aizawa’s mind pondered over Midoryia for a second. The kid thought the world of All Might. Bakugou too, come to think of it. 

 

“I agree the name is a little cliché, but yes.” Nezu replied from where he was perched on top of his very human sized desk, his paws dangling off of the edge. “I want you to live in with our students as we transition into dormitories.” 

 

The three men continued to stare at the hybrid. Kan coughed lightly. 

 

“When you say live in?”

 

“Oh you’ll have your own living area, your own floor perhaps...” the principal reassured the two, beginning to ramble once again. “...although I think it would be nice to share a kitchen with your students wouldn’t you? A nice way to be able to interact with them outside of training-“

 

Aizawa zoned out again. He could already imagine how this would go down. Having Class 1-A six days a week at UA was already enough. And he hadn’t even had time to investigate their entire involvement with Bakugou’s rescue. Although from what he could imagine, it was going to be hard not to expel the lot of them. 

 

Kan interrupted his thoughts; “I would still like to take active pro hero duty.” 

 

“I agree,” Aizawa interjected before looking Yagi’s way. “Sorry… All Might.”

 

The former symbol of piece waved the two homeroom teachers away. 

 

“Nonsense,” he replied swiftly. 

 

Nezu waited patiently, the atmosphere in the room noticeably thicker than it was before.

 

“Why of course!” the principle eventually replied, ignoring the formalities passed between his staff. “You will just have to organize yourselves around one another to make sure that you can cover each other’s classes overnight.”

 

“You mean babysit?” Aizawa asked, one eyebrow raised. Yagi smirked slightly beside him.  

 

“In essence. Yes.” 

 

Now Aizawa was envisioning forty kids. In a dorm common area? At night? He knew Class B, but not well. Not well enough to control their quirks efficiently. 

 

Well. Maybe Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu.

 

His mind stuck on ‘Tetsutetsu’ like a weird mantra. 

 

Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu… 

 

“Any questions?”

 

Nezu was staring. 

 

“Yes,” Aizawa questioned. “Logistically. How are you going to accommodate so many..?” 

 

“Oh well that’s simple!” Nezu smiled, reaching across for a folder and turning a sheet over for the three to see. Blueprints of dorm rooms, construction plans, spreadsheets. This was a thought-out plan. “With the governments backing, construction work will begin tomorrow, finishing late next week. It’s up to you to decide on room placement and then we’ll adapt the rooms for the students quirks. We’ll cover all the utility bills and food shops. Oh! I also know of a rather brilliant ‘home hotel’ scheme for your existing accommodations.” 

 

Nezu finished laying out the sheets on the table in front of him, grinning up at the pro’s wildly. 

 

“You’re both single.”

 

It was a statement rather than a question, but Aizawa felt himself nod nevertheless. 

 

“Good! Then it all works out!”

 

“I…”

 

Aizawa paused for a moment, Nezu looking up at him, a face of misleading innocence. Aizawa bowed deeply.

 

“Principle Nezu, although I respect your plan I think you’re forgetting… My place here at UA is in discussion. After what happened at the training camp-“

 

Aizawa was stopped with a paw. Nezu encouraged him to rise before replying. 

 

“I am asking the same commitment of every homeroom teacher here at UA,” he began. “I believe that you’re wholeheartedly qualified for the job! These students look up to you and you are the best equipped for their needs both as hero’s-in-training and as students. If anything, the training camp proved just that.”

 

Aizawa opened his mouth, only to close it again. 

 

“Your place at UA comes down to whether I believe you have the qualifications to work here, and I do,” the hybrid stated simply. “Your role as a teacher will not be questioned as long as I am the principle! Which in fact I am!”

 

“I wouldn’t just be a teacher though,” Aizawa replied. “From what you’re asking us to do, I’d be a… caregiver?”

 

“A dorm parent,” Nezu repeated. 

 

“I also have concerns,” Kan echoed. “It is going to be hard to convince parents that they wouldn’t be safer at home.”

 

“I agree,” Nezu replied. “But with the ever-looming threat of villain activity, and after All Might’s untimely retirement… There is no question! UA will be best equipped to look after it’s students, more so than anywhere else!”

 

“I would agree…” Aizawa said, looking down at the ground, his head bowed. “If I believed that my students would be safest in my care.”

 

“I wouldn’t ask this of my faculty members if I didn’t believe we could provide the utmost care!” Nezu replied swiftly. “I have every faith in you Erasurehead! But only if you, have every faith in me.”

 

Aizawa looked up. He thought about his Class 1-A. He thought about the sleepless nights he was already getting anyway. He thought about when he himself was younger, thinking about what he’d be like as a father to his own children. The name Tetsutetsu popped back into his head before being replaced by the thought of extra training with Shinsou.

 

“If your only fears are about not being able to protect your students than I suggest that you are overthinking,” Nezu’s voice rang from in front of him.

 

Aizawa nearly scoffed. He hadn’t begun to think about Koda’s pets. 

 

Still, it would be nice to see Todoroki thrive someplace that wasn’t his fathers. 

 

“Vlad and I will handle Class B with its many casualties. All Might and Erasure will deal with Class A.”

 

“Now?” Aizawa heard himself say. 

 

“Oh I am sorry!” the hybrid cried. “Vlad. Erasure. Your consent. Do I have it?”

 

Aizawa looked at Kan but the man was too busy looking proudly down at his superior. 

 

“Of course.” he spoke confidently. 

 

“Yes.” Aizawa added. 

 

Nezu’s eyes grew wild. 

 

“Then yes. Now.”

 

And with that, he pushed the forms in the pro’s direction. 

 

“Good luck with the home visits!” 

 

And with that Aizawa felt himself walking past Yagi out of the door. 

 

“I’m going to need to put on a tie.” he said to the former symbol of peace. 

 

This was going to be interesting. 

 

—

 

Hizashi and Nemuri on the other hand, found it hilarious. 

 

“What were Iida parents like?” Nemuri asked from across Aizawa as the three sat in their usual bar. 

 

Aizawa took a swig of his drink. 

 

“I’m not allowed to disclose that information.” 

 

“We’re they all just like him?” Nemuri pressed. Aizawa glared. 

 

“No.” 

 

“Because there is something about that boy...” Nemuri mused with a smile. 

 

“He’s definitely on some spectrum.” Aizawa agreed. 

 

“Oh and the sparkle kid!” Hizashi chimed in. 

 

“Aoyama?”

 

“That’s the one! What were his parents like?! Did they have French accents?”

 

“No. His mum had a Russian accent and his father Australian.” Aizawa replied. 

 

Hizashi stared at him, drink halfway in the air. 

 

“Obviously I’m joking.” Aizawa rolled his eyes, smirking. “Kind of? I can’t remember.”

 

“It only happened a few hours ago!” Nemuri laughed. 

 

Aizawa shrugged his shoulders. 

 

“Aww! Shota’s just grumpy because now he’s adopted twenty children he never wanted!” Hizashi smirked playfully, reaching across to pinch his best friends cheeks. Aizawa batted him away. 

 

“How are you going to manage it?” Nemuri asked, playing with the straw in her drink. “These kids are going through puberty.”

 

“I can handle puberty.” Aizawa replied shortly. 

 

“I don’t believe you think it exists,” Hizashi teased. “Did you even go through puberty?” 

 

“Of course I did.”

 

“First crush?” Nemuri asked. 

 

“I don’t do crushes.” 

 

“Well, you already won’t know how to deal with that one.” Nemuri stage-whispered. 

 

“None of my students have crushes.” Aizawa stated. 

 

Hizashi and Nemuri stared pointedly at him. 

 

“Apart from Uraraka’s glaringly obvious one on Midoryia.” he eventually conceded. 

 

The stares continued. 

 

“And Mineta’s lust for anything breathing.”

 

Aizawa tried to avert eye contact but failed. Nemuri leaned in with a smile. 

 

“Aren’t you forgetting Kaminari’s crush on-“

 

“Yes alright. If you’re not going to say anything useful, don’t speak.” Aizawa snapped.

 

Nemuri ignored him, “What about periods? Wet dreams?” 

 

“Please stop talking.” Aizawa groaned. “We’re in a bar.”

 

“Well? What about them?” 

 

“They won’t come to me about something like that!” Aizawa replied. “They’ll confide in each other.”

 

“When one of them gets ill?” she continued, Hizashi glugging his drink in the background, amused.

 

“Recovery Girl.”

 

“What about in the dead of night?”

 

“I’m first aid trained. And there’s painkillers.”

 

“Homesickness?”

 

“What?”

 

“It happens!”

 

“They’re fifteen.” Aizawa reprimanded. “They won’t have time to get homesick. If they’re missing home then they haven’t got enough homework to do.”

 

“You’re going to make a terrible parent!” Nemuri teased.

 

“Stop calling it ‘parent’.” Aizawa snapped.

 

“Grumpy, grumpy, grump, grump…” Hizashi slurred, reaching across for Aizawa’s cheeks again. 

 

“Getoff.” Aizawa pushed his best friend away lightly. “You’re drunk.”

 

“We need to be after this week.” Nemuri shrugged. “Who knows when we’ll next have the time to meet up like this again.”

 

The two men nodded thoughtfully, a moment of calm drifting over the trio.

 

Eventually, Hizashi broke the silence, humored by his own thoughts. “If you want to go out, you’ll have to get Kan to babysit.” 

 

“Right, that’s it. I’m going to muzzle you.” 

 

—  

 

One term in and it seemed that maybe Nemuri was right…

 

Not that Aizawa was going to outright admit it. 

 

Living with teenagers was exhausting. And that was an understatement. 

 

There were countless nightmares and phone calls home in the first couple of weeks; the aftermath of the villain attack still very much present in the kid's minds. 

 

Even Bakugou had it worse than Aizawa expected. He never explicitly told his teacher, Aizawa just figured it out from the number of times he found Kirishima asleep in Bakugou’s room. 

 

Then again, he’d placed their rooms next to one another for that precise reason. 

 

The kids didn’t get ill often, usually trying to push through it until Aizawa forced them into bed. There was only one time when the entire class, including himself, managed to contract food poisoning, but that had been Ashido’s fault.

 

She wasn’t allowed to cook alone again. 

 

The only other thing was the arguing. Mostly between Bakugou and nearly every other student if Aizawa was being brutally honest. But through the young boy’s explosive arguments, Aizawa himself made an effort to learn about his students. What made them tick and what they were sensitive about. 

 

He made a few mistakes of his own, granted. But then again those kids pissed him off on the daily, so, he figured he was allowed to. 

 

The one thing that Nemuri was wrong about was the ‘physical’ changes. Apart from the blatantly obvious growth spurts and voice cracks, Aizawa had been correct in thinking that the kids would naturally confide in one another. It didn’t stop him from noticing. 

 

He could blatantly tell when one student's sheets had been washed more than once that week. He clocked that when the girls asked for painkillers on the same week of every month, that they weren’t for the ‘migraines’ they claimed. 

 

He just chose to ignore it. 

 

It wasn’t his business. 

 

And he was confident, three months into living at Heights Alliance, that his kids would be just fine without him when it came to those kind of matters. 

 

However in late February, much to Shota’s annoyance, Nemuri was proven right once again.

 

A knock at his dorm room woke him up with a start. Dreams of giant hybrid cats were interrupted as he grappled for his alarm clock.

 

7:47pm

 

Okay. He wasn’t late for patrol. 

 

Kicking off the bedsheets from his mid evening nap, Aizawa rubbed his eyes furiously to try and shake himself awake. 

 

Another knock at the door had him growling. 

 

“I’m coming.”

 

To his surprise, it was Yaoyorozu stood in the doorway, twirling a strand of hair in her finger. She looked as the door opened, staring slightly in disbelief. 

 

“Did… Did I wake you Sensei?” 

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Aizawa replied, coughing shortly to stop the croak in his tired voice. “What’s the matter?”

 

There was a pause. Aizawa’s eye’s focused, adjusting to the light of the hall. Yaoyorozu looked tired herself, awkwardly wringing one hand in the other. Aizawa couldn’t place the expression on her face… Embarrassment perhaps? 

 

“Can you book me a doctors appointment?” she asked finally. 

 

Not the question he was expecting. 

 

“Why?” Aizawa asked, eyes narrowed.

 

“No reason.”

 

Embarrassment was correct. The teen took a deep breath, her eyes glancing down the corridor as if to make sure no one was coming. 

 

“There has to be a-“ Aizawa broke off mid-sentence to sigh. 

 

Yaoyorozu made no attempt to elaborate.

 

“Do you not want to go to Recovery Girl?” he continued when she failed to speak up.

 

Any problems the students had regarding their health usually went through Recovery Girl. In fact, it was standard at UA. She had all their medical records and was frankly the best at her job.

 

“No.”

 

Right. That told him.

 

Aizawa was at a bit of a loss. Yaoyorozu seemed to be in the same position. She looked down at her hands for a moment before speaking again.

 

“It’s okay then. I’ll just book one when I get back home for the holidays. Thank you anyway.” 

 

Aizawa almost felt as if he’d let her down in a way. The girl's voice was quiet now, her former embarrassment turned to disappointment as she forced a small smile. She paused for just a second too long before turning away from his door. 

 

“That’s months away,” Aizawa pointed out before she could walk away.

 

Yaoyorozu stopped as soon as he began to speak, turning back slightly as Aizawa continued;

 

“If there’s something wrong then you should think about trying to talk to one of us. Midnight? All Might?”

 

“It’s nothing wrong…” Yaoyorozu replied. “Kind of…”

 

“You know I can’t book you a doctors appointment without having a reason to.” Aizawa stated. 

 

“Yes… I know…”

 

“Then what’s the reason?” Aizawa pressed, the sudden wake-up call starting to grate on his nerves. 

 

“I… I would just rather talk to my family doctor!” Yaoyorozu cried. 

 

Family doctor? How rich was this kid?

 

“You’re being annoyingly cryptic…” Aizawa sighed.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Yaoyorozu hung by the doorway as Aizawa yawned, rubbing his temples trying to figure the teenager out. 

 

“Is it going to affect training?” he asked, eyes still closed. 

 

“No.” Yaoyorozu replied. 

 

“Do you think you know what’s wrong?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Aizawa opened one eye and glared.

 

“We going to play twenty questions all evening?”

 

“No… Sorry Sensei.”

 

“Look Yaoyorozu. I can’t do anything until you at least tell me vaguely what the issue is,” Aizawa said, attempting to kick the tone from his voice. “But I don’t want you carrying this through the semester with you. So if you can’t tell me, at least consider trying to find a faculty member you can.”

 

The girls face softened, her eye-line shifting to the floor. 

 

“You won’t… understand.” she spoke softly. 

 

“Try me.”

 

Aizawa had witnessed snails faster than this conversation, but it was no matter. 

 

Yaoyorozu took a breath in, as if to prepare herself, went bright red before finally;

 

“My period’s stopped.”

 

Aha! The opposite of what Nemuri had told him! 

 

Aizawa 1. Nemuri 0!

 

Aizawa had to shake his tired brain to get his thoughts on track. 

 

Periods. Stopped. 

 

Aizawa remembered the other thing Nemuri told him. 

 

“How long for?” he asked, getting straight to the point. He could already feel his heart start to drum inside his chest. 

 

“Four months..?” Yaoyorozu replied, still attempting to hold eye contact with her teacher, her cheeks burning. 

 

Aizawa’s mind raced. If this happened in dorms… Oh, he was in so much shit.

 

“That’s a long time,” Aizawa began, trying to figure out how to get to the point. “Do you think you know why?” he asked slowly, his voice rising. 

 

“Well... I think so.” Yaoyorozu replied hesitantly. 

 

Aizawa momentarily forgot to breathe. 

 

“Probably because I haven’t been taking care of my quirk properly.” she finally finished. 

 

“Your quirk?!” Aizawa managed to choke out as he crouched in front of his student. She looked down at him, puzzled. 

 

“Yes my quirk...”

 

That was the last straw. 

 

Aizawa wasn’t sure whether it was delirium from the lack of sleep, or just the situation itself but he couldn’t help but burst into laughter, his terror dissipating into relief.

 

Yaoyorozu stared at her homeroom teacher with a mix of confusion and horror before she suddenly gasped, her hand flying towards her mouth. 

 

“Oh! God! I’m not pregnant!” 

 

“Aizawa put his head in his hands with a splutter, not even trying to suppress his amusement. 

 

“I’m not pregnant! Definitely not pregnant!” she continued to cry, her head shaking like mad as her homeroom teacher tried to take in air. 

 

“Don’t do that to me Yaoyorozu!” he finally managed. 

 

“Sensei! I wouldn’t be!”

 

“Well I don’t know!” he cried.

 

“No! I would never have-!”

 

“Well I would hope!”

 

“God is that what you-?! Oh God.”

 

It was Yaoyorozu’s turn to cover her face in her own hands as Aizawa wheezed. 

 

This lasted for a minute until Aizawa finally gained enough composure to stand.  

 

“I’m glad we cleared that one up.” he stated, amused. 

 

Yaoyorozu simply groaned in-between her hands.

 

“Stop laughing,” she muttered, her face turned a deep shade of scarlet. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Aizawa grinned. “That tickled me.” 

 

“I’ve never seen you laugh.”

 

“Don’t worry. Nobody will believe you.” 

 

“Who did you think was the dad?” the teenager couldn’t help but ask, peaking through her fingers to look at him accusingly. A face popped into Aizawa’s mind immediately but he simply smirked at the idea. 

 

“No one.”

 

“I don’t believe you.” Yaoyorozu stated an air to her, folding her arms. Aizawa sighed once more, returning to his usual demeanor. 

 

“You’re quirk uses the molecular manipulation of lipid cells. Fat is essential for normal reproduction. If I’ve put two and two together correctly. It’s an easy conclusion considering the training you’ve undergone in the last year,” Aizawa cut her off cooly. “I was made aware of any medical issues any of my students may have due to their quirks before I started teaching you.”

 

This was true. Although Aizawa was grateful he actually remembered it. 

 

“I am sorry for jumping to the wrong conclusions.” he finished. 

 

Yaoyorozu smiled softly, the blush fading from her cheeks. 

 

“It’s alright.” 

 

“Now,” Aizawa said, his teacher parent ‘mode’ taking command once more. “If I were to tell Recovery Girl what you’ve told me, about… it all-” God why was the word so difficult to say. “-then do you think you’d be up for having a discussion with us? We know your quirk best. There should be things here at UA already in place for you.”

 

Yaoyorozu looked uncertain but nodded all the same.

 

“This problem is at fault of the school,” he assured her. “And myself. You should have come to me sooner.”

 

“I…”

 

There was a pause, Yaoyorozu trying to work out what she wanted to say, how to put it. 

 

“…do think I can come to you, I just didn’t know if this sort of issue would be okay?” she finally decided awkwardly.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Aizawa replied swiftly. 

 

Despite the lack of emotion in her homeroom teachers tone, Yaoyorozu smiled. 

 

“Thank you Sensei.”

 

“No problem.”

 

The teenager turned and began to walk away before;

 

“What time is Vlad King coming?”

 

“Nine,” Aizawa replied.

 

“Okay. There’s food for you in the fridge. Iida made curry.”

 

“Is it better than last time?” Aizawa asked.

 

“He’s working on it,” came the tactful reply. “Have a good patrol Sensei!”

 

The pro watched Yaoyorozu left the floor before turning and mimed banging his head on the wall.

 

In a good way though. 

 

He might have to text Nemuri. 

 

—

 

During the final term of second year, Aizawa had found himself not only taking on the responsibility of twenty teenagers but now? A six year old kid.

 

He wasn’t really sure how he got himself into these situations. 

 

This time Nezu had called the position ‘caregiver’ although they both knew that was just another term for ‘dad’.

 

Eri was a good kid though, so Aizawa didn’t mind watching over her at the weekends. It made a change from the ever-excitable kids in Class 1-A, that was for sure. Eri possessed an innocence that Aizawa found refreshing. Alongside Mirio’s overwhelming positivity, it was hard not to tire from their company.

 

On one particular Sunday, UA had arranged for Eri to visit a play specialist. It was part of her rehabilitation process and it was seeming to work. Aizawa like to keep tabs on her recovery. 

 

It gave something for Mirio to do as well. Aizawa knew that looking after the young girl was giving the boy some sort of purpose. It was a humbling situation. 

 

“Keep your head still.” Aizawa said, repositioning Eri’s head so he could continue to tie it in a French plait. 

 

He’d gotten rather good at those.

 

The three were sat in the common room of 1-A waiting for their taxi to show up. There weren’t any students about, however. Most slept in or worked out on the Sunday morning. 

 

So it was quiet.

 

“KAMINARI I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”

 

Relatively quiet.

 

Aizawa covered Eri’s ears lightly with a sigh. 

 

“You’re students are a bit of a handful, huh Aizawa?” Mirio grinning from the opposite sofa as the trio begun to hear crashing footsteps from down the hallway. 

 

Aizawa looked up and hummed under his breath. He would have spoken, but he had a bright pink hairband in his mouth. 

 

“KAMINARI?! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE I SWEAR TO-“

 

Jiro stopped mid sentence as she burst into the common area, spotting the three on the sofa’s. Aizawa sported Mirio’s facial expression before he turned to look at his student. The boy was looking up with wide eyes, his mouth in a perfect ‘o’ shape. Aizawa followed his eyes to where his student was still hanging in the doorway.

 

Jiro looked the same as she always did, Black Death t-shirt over a pleated skirt and knee high boots. Apart from her hair. 

 

Her normally straight bob was stuck up in the air, completely full of static. As if she’d been...

 

Electrocuted. 

 

Ah. 

 

Jiro froze, staring at her teacher before bolting back down the corridor. 

 

“Hold on!” Aizawa called after her, the hairband dropping out of his mouth. 

 

Jiro paused but didn’t turn. 

 

“What happened?” 

 

“Stupid Kaminari fired electricity through the mains on floor three.” Jiro replied, still turned away from the trio. “I was trying to dry my hair.” 

 

“Is she okay..?” Eri whispered, tugging on Aizawa’s jumper. 

 

“Yes.” he replied softly, squeezing her shoulder. “What about everyone else?” he called over.

 

“I don’t know, it was only a small shock. Nothing big, so they should be okay just- AGHH!” Jiro cried out in annoyance, crouching to the floor, her head in her hands. “I’m going to kill him.”

 

“Don’t worry! She won’t kill him!” Mirio reassured the six-year-old, Eri looking up worriedly.  

 

“Come over here,” Aizawa commanded lightly. “Grab that hairband off the floor as well.”

 

Jiro paused for a moment, still embarrassed to show herself. She did get up eventually, however. Even she couldn’t be embarrassed enough not to do as Aizawa said. 

 

She sat, reaching down to grab the hairband, passing it to her teacher. Aizawa turned Eri’s head lightly and started plaiting the other side of her hair. The six-year-old looked up at Jiro quizzically. 

 

“Your hair is all sticky-upy.” she commented. 

 

“I know.” Jiro muttered. Eri remained undeterred, placing a hand on the teenager's shoulder. 

 

“It’s okay,” she smiled. “Aizawa is really good at doing hair.”

 

Jiro looked up at that, surprised. Her confused expression suddenly lit up in realisation as she watched her homeroom teacher plait. 

 

“Is that from when we taught you..?” she asked quietly. 

 

Aizawa nodded. There was a moments silence, Jiro looking around and finally taking in her surroundings for the first time. 

 

“Hi Mirio.” she smiled softly. 

 

“Well hey there!” Mirio cheered back. “Quirks are difficult, eh?”

 

“Boys are difficult.” she replied. 

 

Aizawa snorted softly, tying the last band on the bottom of Eri’s plaits. 

 

“There you go.” he said, patting the six-year-old on the back. “Move up so I can do Jiro’s hair.”

 

“Okay!” Eri smiled, going to move up on the sofa and then changing her mind last minute to run around the table and jump into Mirio’s arms. The boy caught her awkwardly, laughing loudly as he spun her around into his lap. 

 

“Ohh! You’re getting heavy!” he teased, tickling her so she squirmed in his arms, giggling. 

 

“Shift around.” Aizawa said, turning himself and pulling his legs up to cross them on the sofa. “Do you mind?” he asked, motioning to the proximity. Jiro shook her head and tucked her legs up under her head as Aizawa reached for the brush. 

 

He noticed his student momentarily tense up as he brushed through her bob, relaxing into the rhythm as he continued to remove the static from her hair.

 

Eri continued to giggle from across from them. Mirio had now lifted her onto his shoulders, tipping her backward into the sofa much to her delight. Aizawa was about to tell them to ‘be careful’ when he noticed Jiro’s hand rise to her eyes, a shaky breath giving away her frustration.

 

“Hey,” Aizawa scolded, wiping away a stray tear from her cheek. “None of that now. It’s only hair.”

 

“I know.” she whispered back, her voice wavering, fists clenched. “I’m being stupid.”

 

“Stop it,” Aizawa replied warningly. “Enough now.”

 

Jiro listened this time, allowing herself to relax slightly in her teacher's presence. Aizawa continued to brush in silence, allowing her frustration to dissipate. 

 

It was only when a particularly giggly laugh from Eri cause the teen to smile genuinely that Aizawa spoke up once more

 

“I’ll make sure he’s punished.” he said, pulling her hair back gently. “It’s not as bad other times he’s done it.”

 

“Yeah. Like when he electrocuted Koda’s hamster by accident.” Jiro quipped, the smile growing.

 

“You shouldn’t smile at that.” Aizawa smirked.

 

However, in a way, he was glad that she did.

 

“What are you doing with my hair?” Jiro asked after a moment. 

 

“I’m plaiting it,” Aizawa replied. “Then you won’t see the static.”

 

“Oh.” Jiro paused. “Thank you Sensei.”

 

“That’s okay. Nearly done.”

 

“Her hair looks better than mine!” Eri called from the other side of the room.

 

“Oi!” Aizawa scolded lightly. 

 

“It looks okay?” Jiro asked hesitantly, her hand feeling up for the plait as Aizawa tied it up at the bottom. 

 

“You look mighty fine!” Mirio replied cheerily, giving Jiro a thumbs up from where Eri had settled on his lap. “Then again, I don’t know much about hair!”

 

Jiro’s smile grew wider, showing her teeth. 

 

“There we go.” Aizawa stated, looking down at the teenager.

 

“What?” his student asked. 

 

“That’s a proper smile.”

 

Jiro looked away bashfully, her nose flaring with embarrassment, the smile remaining.

 

He could feel himself going soft.

 

“Call in Kaminari,” he asked, flexing his hands. “I’ve got some telling off to do…”

 

After all, he couldn’t allow himself to go soft for long.

 

It would prove Nemuri right. Again. 

Notes:

also, irrelevant but OMG, if anyone is a pro at SHAVING LEGS, CAN U HELP A GIRL OUT?????
I stg I've cut myself like six times trying to shave my legs and now I look like an extra from Chicken Run

Chapter 25: The Ghost Hunt

Summary:

It didn’t take long for Midoryia to hear it. What could have been a wailing noise coming from the floor below them. He looked across to Uraraka, half expecting her to be laughing but the expression on her face was serious, gazing back at him, mouth formed in a tight line.

“It’s a ghost!” she whispered, Midoryia’s eyes growing wide.

OR

Class 1-A go on a ghost hunt and Todoroki is done with their BS.
Also Aizawa is a beast at monopoly.

Notes:

Happy Friday!

This chapter is a bit all over the place but that's cause I've been sofa surfing for the last two weeks haha! I'm in London right now but I've just come from Southend and I was in Paris a week ago haha it's been fun but rip me trying to wake up for 3am for work next week.

I got a prompt a few chapters ago for a ghost hunt which I thought was a pretty sick one and y'all are always asking for more drunk Hizashi my gosh so I hope you enjoy!

Also THANK YOU for the shaving tips, you guys make me so happy bless you all

For Aizawa, not every night on patrol was full of hero work and saving citizens. 

 

Hero culture was huge in Japan, especially Tokyo where the pro had grown up and now continued to work. However the crime rate, whilst still on the rise, was relatively low. In fact, the biggest crimes in the country, usually came from villains directly attacking the heroes themselves. Civilian fatalities nowadays mostly came from being in the crossfire. 

 

Then again it was still Japan; most civilians were, outwardly, quite passive. 

 

And so, middle of the week, in winter? Yeah, Aizawa’s patrol was light. 

 

“Hey! Erasure! Looking heroic!”

 

Which meant morons like Hizashi and Nemuri, could come and pester him on shift. 

 

“What do you want?” Aizawa called back down the alleyway as his best friends approached him. He’d just apprehended a petty thief from outside the corner shop. The kid was a teenager, a little older than his own students and judging from the items he’d nicked, not very well off. 

 

“We thought we’d come and say hi!” Nemuri teased. 

 

Aizawa gave her a look, eyebrow raised. 

 

“Hizashi got us kicked out of the bar for being too loud.” she confessed. 

 

“And why have you been drinking?” Aizawa asked, not bothering to question how loud the man must have been to get removed from a bar. 

 

“Only a tiny bit.” Hizashi motioned with his fingers.

 

“I asked ‘why’ not ‘how much’.”

 

“Because it’s a CELEBRATION!” 

 

“Of what?” Aizawa replied half-heartedly, hauling the teenager up by his collar. 

 

“OW! Let… go of… me!” the boy choked, his hands covering his ears from the repercussions of Hizashi’s quirk.

 

“Be quiet.” Aizawa snapped. 

 

“You caught a villain!” Hizashi concluded, pointing at the kid.

 

“Hardly,” Aizawa replied. “This idiot just needs to go and apologize before I hand him in.”

 

The teenager tried to lash out at Aizawa’s arms with a grunt. The pro responded to that by reaching out for the boy with his capture weapon, his voice growling;

 

“Look kid, with the way tonight is going? I’m either going to strangle this man here,” he pointed at Hizashi tiredly. “Or you. Choose wisely.”

 

The boy stopped struggling. 

 

Aizawa turned back to his best friends. They were casually dancing to the weird disco tech music coming from the street the other side of them. 

 

“You need to go home.” he remarked.

 

“It’s not even midnight yet!” Hizashi cried, making a show of pointing at Nemuri as he did, causing her to roll her eyes at the God-awful joke. “The night is young!”

 

“And you are not.” Aizawa finished. “How are you this drunk? It’s a Thursday.”

 

“But it’s a holiday tomorrow!” Hizashi sang back at him referring to the bank holiday weekend the three had coming up. 

 

It was a small blessing. Aizawa was done with teaching for a couple of days.

 

“Oh yeah, about getting home,” Nemuri interjected quickly, breaking through his thoughts. “I’m going to stay with my sister for the long weekend so I’m leaving early tomorrow morning. Can you make sure Hizashi gets back safe or, like, have him around your apartment?”

 

“You what?” Aizawa growled. 

 

“Sounds nice,” the teenager called out from his restraints, his face twisted into a cocky smile, full of bravado at his captor being shown up. “Where does your sister live?”

 

“Oh, Saitama Prefecture.” Nemuri replied casually.

 

“No way!” he continued, glancing at Aizawa to watch his face sour. “My dad lives around the area. I’ve heard there’s good weather this weekend. Lot’s of sun.”

 

“Do you know if they have the bus service running yet?” Nemuri asked, Aizawa continued staring between the two in disbelief. Nemuri had stopped dancing to talk but Hizashi had continued, doing the Macarena between the three of them. 

 

“When I went last weekend they didn’t-“

 

“Bugger.”

 

“But I think they wanted to get it running for this weekend anyway, so you might be in luck-“

 

“Nemuri?! Can you stop talking to the thief?” Aizawa cut in, his voice a low growl.

 

“Oh. Sorry.” she replied, not really sorry at all. 

 

“I’m not looking after Hizashi,” Aizawa continued. “He’s a grown man and I have work. Put him in a taxi or something.”

 

“Yeah? With who’s money?” Nemuri asked. “He just brought a round of shots for these American tourists we met who liked radio! Didn’t even listen to his show. Just liked radio!”

 

“I am not arguing with you like divorced parents!” Aizawa cried using his free hand to point towards the man. “He’s not a child!”

 

The three turned to where Hizashi had finally stopped. 

 

“He’s right,” the man slurred, attempting to lean against a lamppost. “I’m not a kid. I am a man. A big, all grown up ma-”

 

Hizashi missed the lamppost, instead, falling haphazardly into the bin bags at the side of the alleyway. 

 

“I’m okay!” he called from the floor.

 

Aizawa groaned. 

 

“Your friends are hilarious.” the thief drawled from where Aizawa was holding him. 

.

“Shut it.” 

 

“Okay, can you pay for a taxi then?” Nemuri asked. “You can get Hizashi to pay you back tomorrow or something. What time do you finish anyway?”

 

“Two.” Aizawa replied shortly. “I don’t trust Hizashi to let himself into the right apartment.”

 

“I’ll stay up with him until you finish,” Nemuri shrugged. “We’ll hit up Gen Yamamoto.”

 

“Then why can’t you take him home?” Aizawa asked, his impatience growing as he watched his best friend attempt to get up from across the alley.

 

“My place is in the opposite direction!” Nemuri replied sweetly. “You know it makes sense!” 

 

“Whatever.” Aizawa snapped. “Is that what you came to find me for? To ask me to take care of that hopeless fool?”

 

“We wanted to come and see you at work,” Nemuri smiled, taking no notice of Aizawa’s cold tone. “I’ll help you take this one in as well if you want.”

 

“Oi!” the teenager yelled at Midnight. “I thought you were on my side!”

 

“I don’t side with petty criminals,” she coo’ed at him. “But thank you for the bus information! Maybe one day you can grow up and drive buses yourself! Isn’t that a thought?!”

 

Aizawa couldn’t help but crack a grin. 

 

“Alright, you can drag Hizashi out of this alleyway.” Aizawa muttered, hauling the boy along with him as well as the stolen bag full of items. “The service station he stole these from is just around the corner.”

 

Aizawa was about to make his way back onto the main streets when his phone rang. 

 

“Hello?” he asked, tapping onto the earpiece to hear the caller. 

 

“Erasurehead!” A familiar voice called down the line.

 

“Principle Nezu?” Aizawa replied. Nemuri tuned to mouth at him from where she was dragging Hizashi out of the gutter.

 

“Your presence is required back at UA I’m afraid!” Nezu voice ran in his ear. 

 

“Is everything okay?” Aizawa asked quickly, scenarios of Bakugou exploding at Midoryia or Dark Shadow ravaging the common area filling his head. 

 

“Perfectly fine!” Nezu sang. “Awase from Class B has, what we believe, is appendicitis. Nasty ailment! Alas, one of those things Recovery Girl cannot cure! Vlad King is assisting the boy to the emergency room, meaning you need to come back and oversee the first year dorms!” 

 

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. 

 

Crap. 

 

“I am in the middle of apprehending some thief,” he admitted.

 

“I have contacted the hero force!” Nezu interrupted. “They will know of your absence and send a taxi to your location!”

 

“Alright. I’m on my way.” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Time is of the essence!” Nezu called through the earpiece. “We would like to get poor Awase to a hospital as soon as possible.”

 

“Of course.” Aizawa managed to say before the line went dead. He looked over at his best friends, thinking.

 

“Who was that?” Nemuri asked from where she was brushing dirt off her jeans, Hizashi leaning against her right side. 

 

“Nezu.” Aizawa replied swiftly. “You don’t have your hero license on you, do you Midnight?”

 

“Why, of course.” Nemuri smiled. “Why? What’s happened?”

 

“Nothing big.” Aizawa replied with a sigh. “But I need to go back to UA. Now.” 

 

“You want me to take care of this one?” Nemuri asked, pointing at the teenager in Aizawa’s grip.

 

“I have a name!” the boy hollered. 

 

“And what is it hunny?” Nemuri called across. “I’m sure the police would love to know!”

 

The teenager shut up at that, growling and ducking his head. 

 

“That’s what I thought.” she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll take him. How are you getting to UA?”

 

“I don’t know,” Aizawa replied. “Hold on a sec.”

 

He tapped into his earpiece once more waiting for the familiar tone. 

 

“Kobayashi, it’s Erasurehead.”

 

“Erasure. Yeah, we’ve got the message from UA, you in the middle of something?” 

 

“Just a petty theft. Midnight can take over from me with your permission.” he asked the officer on the other side of the line. 

 

There was some talking just out of earshot before the man came back on the line. 

 

“Yeah, that’s okay if you’re happy splitting the reward for it.” he replied. 

 

“I don’t have much choice.” Aizawa growled. “It’s fine, she owes me money anyway.”

 

“I’ll leave that one to you then.” Kobayashi replied. “If you’re done where you are, then we’ll take you off the patrol list, send someone else to the area.”

 

“Thank you.” Aizawa replied coming off the line. “I’ll swap you.” he motioned to Midnight. 

 

His best friend nodded, handing the, still disorientated Hizashi, over to Aizawa as the pro thrust the teenager in Midnight's direction. 

 

Nemuri pulled at her top as she grabbed the thief, a waft of perfume sending him unconscious. 

 

“Nemuri!” Aizawa cried as he lessened the restraints. “How’s he meant to apologize to the shopkeeper now?”

 

“Oh, he can do it tomorrow with a tag attached to his leg.” She waved him away. “How are you getting to UA?” 

 

Aizawa pointed to the car newly stationed at the end of the alleyway. 

 

“Taxi.”

 

“Oh wait! That’s perfect!” Nemuri cried, lifting the teenager easily onto her shoulder so she could grab the bag. “You can take Hizashi in the taxi with you! Get them to drop him home!” 

 

“Not happening.” Aizawa replied, retracting his capture weapon. 

 

“Come on! It’s not even far between the two!” she pressured. “No one would know if you just asked the taxi to continue after they dropped you off at UA!”

 

“Hizashi is not worth losing my job over.” Aizawa growled as he made his way to the taxi, dragging the other man by his jumper. Hizashi followed grinning, latching himself onto Aizawa’s arm. 

 

“Nezu would be happy that Hizashi was with you, rather than ruining the reputation of UA by parading the street in a crop top.” Nemuri reasoned. Aizawa stopped just before the edge of the road. 

 

“A crop what-?” he began, using his spare arm to pull Hizashi’s jumper up. “What’s the point of that? You can’t even see it.”

 

“It looks good!” Hizashi cried in reply. “It’s PINK!”

 

“Look he even has a crop top in your favorite color and you still want to leave him out in the street.” Nemuri sighed. 

 

“I hate you.” Aizawa snapped. “Fine. I’ll take him but if UA finds out, it’s on your head.” 

 

“Cool, thank you!” Nemuri smiled, hoisting the teenager from where he was starting to slip. “I come back on Monday afternoon if you still wanted to do coffee?”

 

“I’ll see you then.” Aizawa replied gruffly, dragging both himself and Hizashi into the taxi. “Right,” he whispered into his best friends ear. “Act sober.”

 

“Sober.” Hizashi echoed, giving Aizawa a thumbs up as the taxi pulled away. “Got it!”

 

Aizawa sighed at the drunken reply but left it, instead taking to look out of the window. As the brightly colored streets of Tokyo whistled past him, he tried to remember Awase. The kid, if he was right, had the welding quirk. As the cab climbed the hill to UA, he vaguely recalled him attaching himself to Yaoyorozu when she fell unconscious during the attack on the training camp. The boy, otherwise, wasn’t particularly noteworthy. He wasn’t the most charming kid to try and have a conversation with, but then again, Aizawa had never had to have his appendix out. It sounded pretty painful. 

 

“We’re here.” the cab driver informed them as the car pulled up to the front of UA, the gates opening on its arrival. Aizawa noted the screen on the taxi change destination from ‘UA’ to “Tokyo Hospital’.

 

Crap. He hadn’t considered that the taxi would be taking the student to the hospital as well. He couldn’t exactly leave Hizashi with Vlad. 

 

Aizawa could already see Vlad King by the car park, one shivering teenager by his side. The cab stopped and Aizawa grabbed Hizashi by his arm. 

 

“Sober.” he warned. 

 

“What..?” Hizashi asked. “Am I coming with you?’

 

“Yes.” Aizawa replied shortly. “Say. Nothing.”

 

Hizashi clamped his lips together tightly, nodding as Aizawa stepped out of the taxi, Vlad waving across to him. 

 

“Erasure!”

 

Aizawa walked across to meet him, grateful that Hizashi was keeping to his word and staying quiet, hanging behind him slightly. As drunk as his best friend could get, at least he could rely on the fact that this teaching job was as important to him as it was Aizawa. 

 

“Vlad! How is he then?” Aizawa replied, looking down at Awase. The boy’s normal tense demeanor had vanished, the kid was openly crying, almost crouched beside his homeroom teacher. Aizawa leaned down to ruffle his hair slightly. 

 

“Be careful,” Vlad warned as he did. “He’s already been sick more times than I can keep count.”

 

Aizawa shrugged, looking back to the taxi.

 

“Want a hand?”

 

Vlad considered his options before nodding, Aizawa crouching this time, catching the kids eyes. 

 

“You could walk to the taxi or I could carry you,” he offered to the teenager. “Which would be more comfortable?”

 

“I can walk.” Awase replied through his teeth, grabbing onto Aizawa’s arm as Vlad King walked to open the taxi door. 

 

“Present Mic.” the man stated, Hizashi smiling back, a little too widely at their colleague. 

 

“Vlad.” he replied, the hint of a slur in his voice that only Aizawa could have picked up on. He turned his attention back to the Class B student, still hunched over, taking baby steps towards the taxi. 

 

“Take your time.” Aizawa reassured him. 

 

It took a while, but he managed to get Awase into the taxi in one piece. Vlad gave him a rundown on Class B. Most of them were still awake from the commotion it seemed. Aizawa vowed to settle them first. 

 

After sending the two on their way, Aizawa turned back to the man in his care with a sigh. 

 

“I don’t have money to get you another taxi.” he stated. 

 

“I could be realllllly quiet.” Hizashi offered. Aizawa considered his options, of which there weren’t any, and looked back at the dorm houses. 

 

“Come on then.” he replied, Hizashi beaming back at him. “Really quiet. No quirk. You can stay in my room until you’ve sobered up. As long as we both agree that you stayed with me to help look after the kids.”

 

“Really quiet. No quirk.” Hizashi echoed once more. 

 

Aizawa wondered if that was actually possible for the man. 

 

—

 

“Deku!” 

 

Midoryia was fighting Bakugou, the boy continually shouting at him as he used One for All to pummel him into the wall.

 

“Deku… Deku!”

 

Suddenly Uraraka came up beside them, swimming through the air in armbands.

 

“Hey Deku wake up!” 

 

“I am awake!” Midoryia called back but instead, his voice sounded like a chicken. He looked back at Bakugou who’d become a puffer fish.

 

“Deku! Deku..!”

 

Uraraka swam towards him, the grounds of UA quickly turning into an ocean around him. He tried to reach back but there was suddenly a forest of seaweed covering the two. He was about to call back about the seaweed but instead, he found himself saying;

 

“The aubergine is in the ukulele but don’t worry! I have the drumsticks!”

 

“Deku..!”

 

Wait a minute. Drumsticks?

 

Midoryia opened his eyes blearily to see Uraraka’s round features staring down at him. There was a split moment where everything seemed warm and fuzzy…

 

Until he realized.

 

Uraraka was in his room. 

 

“U-Uraraka-chan!” he managed to stutter, working his way up the bed, pulling the covers up with him. “W-what are you doing in here?”

 

“Sorry!” she whispered, his All Might night lamp illuminating her soft, awkward smile. “It’s just…” she paused, turning back to the slightly ajar door. “Come here.” she motioned. 

 

Midoryia leaned across to grab a spare blanket, hugging it under his armpits for warmth as he padded over to where Uraraka was leaning just outside the door. She put her finger to her lips and Midoryia craned one ear to try and make out what she was listening to.

 

It didn’t take long for him to hear it. What could have been a wailing noise coming from the floor below them. Midoryia looked across to Uraraka, half expecting her to be laughing but the expression on her face was serious, gazing back at him, mouth formed in a tight line. 

 

“It’s a ghost!” she whispered, Midoryia’s eyes growing wide.

 

“A ghost?” he echoed. 

 

“That’s what Kirishima thinks.” Uraraka continued, pulling Midoryia down the hallway before he had a chance to register what was happening. “We’re in Bakugou’s room.”

 

“Bakugou’s room?”

 

This night couldn’t get any weirder.

 

Uraraka hurried them up the stairs, the weird noise growing louder as they hit the staircase. Midoryia tried to listen into it as they arrived outside Bakugou’s room, Uraraka knocking lightly before opening the door. 

 

“Fuck off Deku.” was the immediate welcoming the pair got as they shuffled inside the room.

 

“He was awake?” Sero asked from where he was sitting beside Ashido and Yaoyorozu, the room ignoring Bakugou.

 

Midoryia was surprised to see most of Class 1-A huddled inside the explosive boy's room. It was an unspoken rule that no one was really allowed inside the teenager's bedroom without an explicit invitation.

 

“No, I woke him up.” Uraraka replied sheepishly. “He could hear the noise though!”

 

“Of course he could!” Kirishima cried, jumping up from Bakugou’s bed and nearly knocking Kaminari over in the process. “It’s real!” 

 

“I didn’t hear anything.” Iida reasoned.

 

“It stopped when you came in.” Kirishima replied, Bakugou rolling his eyes. 

 

“I can still hear it.” Asui commented, her ears pricked in the direction of the door. 

 

“Me too.” Jiro added, her earjack plugged firmly into the top of Bakugou’s desk. Uraraka took a place next to Iida, Midoryia shuffling forwards in his blanket. 

 

“Midoryia, why do you look like a Roman emperor?” Kaminari grinned as he sat down next to Tokoyami.

 

“Oh, the blanket? I’m still in pajamas.” Midoryia replied, getting comfortable. “So, how long have you guys been here?”

 

“Half an hour,” Tokoyami whispered in his direction. “Asui heard the noise first, she woke me up, then I called Kirishima. He was already in Bakugou’s room and people have been crashing since.” 

 

He pulled the bag of snacks from behind him offering it to the green haired boy. 

 

“Crisp?”

 

“Oh, yeah thanks! What flavour?” Midoryia grinned. They’d never hung out in Bakugou’s room before.

 

“Chicken.”

 

“If you drop crumbs you’re cleaning up my fucking floor.” Bakugou interrupted.

 

“I like your room Kacchan.” Midoryia smiled back.

 

“You’re a fucking mug Deku.” 

 

“Bakugou! Focus!” Kirishima snapped. “Sorry,” he apologized, smiling apologetically at the rest of the group. “He’s tired.”

 

“Still, tiredness does not excuse such language.” Iida noted, pushing his glasses up. 

 

“We need to focus on a game plan here.”

 

“Game plan?” Yaoyoruzu asked.

 

“There’s no ghost.” Shoji added. 

 

“How do you know?” Kirishima was quick to reply. “Aizawa’s away and Vlad King is at 1-B’s dorms.”

 

“How do you know, ribbit?” Asui asked. 

 

Kaminari held up his phone;

 

“I’m texting Shiozaki” 

 

There was a chorus of ‘ohhh’s’ and a variation of shoulder bumps from the lads, Jiro looking up from her nails to scoff. 

 

“Oh he wishes.” she grinned. 

 

“Yeah, it’s mainly small talk.” Kaminari shrugged. “She has a cool cactus collection.” he added, starting to scroll back through their chat. 

 

“Not the point!” Kirishima cried. “Where’s the sound coming from?” 

 

“A classmate?” Yaoyoruzu reasoned.

 

“Like who?” 

 

Kirishima’s question was met by silence. 

 

“Could the tv have been left on?” Midoryia asked.

 

“We’ve been through that one whilst you weren’t here, fuck sakes Deku.” Bakugou snapped. 

 

“Bakugou! Language!” Iida cried. 

 

“You know, you should be flattered Midoryia,” Asui grinned. “Bakugou always calls you by your hero name.”

 

Bakugou went to lunge at the frog girl, palms blazing when suddenly there was a bang from outside the room, loud enough to stop him in his tracks.

 

The room went silent.

 

“Shit,” Kirishima breathed, the entire room looking intently at the closed door. “What was that?”

 

—

 

“You’re hopeless.”

 

Aizawa sighed as he offered a hand to his best friend to help him up off the floor. Again. The two had made it to Class A’s dorms and up to the common area. Although trying to make sure that Hizashi didn’t make any noise was proving difficult. It wasn’t that he was speaking as such, just the man was clumsy when he was drunk. Even by taking the elevator he’d still managed to trip on the way out, falling instead of walking into the common area. 

 

It had almost taken half an hour to get them settled. Aizawa had made tea, Hizashi slumped over the kitchen table.

 

“I’m sobering up,” the pro slurred. “I promise.”

 

“You’d better be.” Aizawa replied. “Just be grateful it’s only us awake. No one can know you’re here intoxicated. You’ll lose your job.”

 

“I find English comes better to me when I’m snozzeled.” Hizashi drooled. “So technically I would be a better English teacher.”

 

“Snozzeled?” Aizawa questioned, looking around to make sure there were no teenagers lurking. Vlad was luckily correct. All of his class seemed to be asleep.

 

“Its, like, a better word for drunk.” Hizashi replied. “Shall we play a game?”

 

“No.”

 

“Please?”

 

“No.”

 

Hizashi ignored him, stumbling over to the sofa’s and bending down to look at the games selection. 

 

“AHHHH!” he yelled, so loudly Aizawa had to leap from the kitchen table to muffle him. “Monopoly!” he hissed through Aizawa’s hands.

 

“Shut up.” the pro hissed. 

 

“Play with me?” Hizashi asked in a whisper. 

 

“No!” Aizawa repeated. “Drink. The tea. I’m leaving you here whilst I go to Class B’s dorms okay? My room is the basement floor, do not go anywhere else and do not let any of the kids see you.”

 

“Okay.” Hizashi pouted. “But if you came back here and Monopoly was all set up and ready to play, you would play with me right?”

 

“Don’t you dare.”

 

—

 

“That was a scream! Someone tell me that wasn’t a scream!”

 

Kirishima was beside himself now. Midoryia had gone to try and comfort him but Dark Shadow had risen from beside him, causing the teen to be bowled back into Jiro who had grabbed onto Yaoyorozu. Asui grabbed him with her tongue, righting him as Iida stood up, arms waving.

 

“Let’s keep calm!” he yelled to no avail. 

 

Bakugou rolled his eyes and set off explosions into his palms. Most of the room turned to that, Kaminari covering his face from the blasts. 

 

“It was a scream.” Kirishima continued as the room fell silent. “That was a scream! Right?”

 

“Sounded like one,” Asui shrugged. 

 

“How are you so calm?!” 

 

“Maybe we should go out and check?” Uraraka offered. The room looked around at each other, Tokoyami luring Dark Shadow back in with potato chips. 

 

“That’s one option…” Shoji agreed. 

 

“This is so mad!” Ashido giggled from beside Sero. 

 

“What if there is a ghost?” Sero grinned wildly. 

 

“There’s no ghost, you fuckmunch.” Bakugou snarled.

 

“How do you know?” Kirishima chastised. “Eh? Eh? There was a scream, man. Like, a proper scream.”

 

“Fucking fine. Yes, someone screamed. It’s dorms. Maybe Todoroki had another nightmare.” Bakugou replied, rolling his eyes. 

 

“Could be.” Yaoyorozu agreed. “It sounded like a guys voice.”

 

“It was more of a screech.” Jiro argued, pointing to her earplug. 

 

“Get your fucking ear OUT of my damn desk!” Bakugou yelled, Kaminari covering his mouth quickly. 

 

“Okay, so are we going to investigate or not?” Tokoyami asked. “I’ve finished my crisps.”

 

“I say yes!” Uraraka cried, arm up in a fist in the air. 

 

“I agree with Uraraka!” Midoryia echoed, mid-yawn. 

 

“It would be the most logical.” Iida agreed.

 

“You three make me want to vomit in my own mouth.”

 

“BAKUGOU!” Iida cried, offended.

 

“Fucking what?” the teen snapped in reply. “Go if you wanna go. Get out my room.”

 

“Are you... scared?” Aoyama asked from across Bakugou. The room turned to look between the two in stunned silence. 

 

“No.” Bakugou retorted, palms flickering. “Are you?” 

 

“No.” he challenged in reply. 

 

“Okay for the record, I am.” Kirishima interjected, attempting to break the tension between the two. 

 

“Are we going to do something then?” Yaoyorozu stretched. “I’m tired.” 

 

“We could split up.” Shoji suggested. “Three apiece? One group go to floor five, one to floor three, one to floor two and one to the common areas?”

 

“Nice plan!” Sero grinned. 

 

“We’d be missing the laundry room.” Iida pointed out. “The two left over could take that.”

 

“I’m not doing shit.” Bakugou snapped. 

 

“But Bakugou, think about it,” Sero smiled. “Everyone would get out your room.” 

 

“You can all fuck off any-“

 

BANG. 

 

Bakugou froze mid-sentence, his facial expression dropping until just his mouth remained open. The entire room turned towards the door. 

 

BANG-BANG. 

 

Ashido, in shock, let out a small laugh, Yaoyorozu covering her mouth quickly. 

 

“Shhhhh.” she hissed. 

 

Uraraka had grabbed both Midoryia and Iida’s arms, Kirishima following suite and reaching for Bakugou’s. Bakugou swatted him away. 

 

“Bakugou, you should answer the door.” Kaminari suggested in a whisper. 

 

“Oui. It’s your room.” Aoyama added, peeking an eye through his fingers. 

 

“Ribbit.” Asui agreed. 

 

“Fuck off.” 

 

BANG-BANG. BANG. 

 

“Bakugou please...” Kaminari hissed. 

 

“It’s okay!” 

 

Midoryia rose, speaking quietly but bravely, blanket tucked across his chest. 

 

“I’ll go.” 

 

“Oh fuck off being fucking heroic.” Bakugou snarled, pushing Kirishima off of him. “I’ll fucking go if it’ll fucking please you.” 

 

“Why yes, it fucking would, Kacchan.” 

 

Uraraka’s mouth dropped, Aoyama stuffed his hand in his mouth to prevent himself from laughing, Iida looked like he was about to faint and the rest of the class just stared. 

 

Dark Shadow popped back up to pat the boy on the back as Jiro stifled laughter. 

 

Kaminari finally broke the silence;

 

“Nice one Midoryia!”

 

Bakugou shoved Midoriya out of the way instead, approaching the door, palms blazing. 

 

BANG-BANG, BANG-BANG. 

 

He took a breath in, forcing it out as a sigh. 

 

“Good luck.” Kirishima whispered. 

 

And Bakugou shoved the door open. 

 

—

 

“You owe me...”

 

Aizawa flicked through the cards lazily, pulling the desired one out and flipping it around. 

 

“…¥1,200.”

 

“Whaaaaa! How come?!” Hizashi cried in response, peering hazily at the monopoly board. 

 

“I have both utility’s.” Aizawa replied tiredly. “Hand it over.” 

 

Hizashi sighed but took the money from his hand, passing it to Aizawa. 

 

“I can’t believe you’re so good at this.” he muttered. 

 

“I can even beat Iida at this one.” Aizawa admitted proudly. Class B was settled, there wasn’t really much Aizawa had to do. He’d helped them clean up Awase’s room before collecting a few of his belongings up for the following day and locking the room up behind them. Compared to his own class, B were a little more subdued, although that was perhaps because Aizawa knew his kids better. Keeping an eye on the clock, Aizawa would go check on them again at two before calling it a night himself. 

 

Maybe by that time, the monopoly would be finished with. 

 

That was the real babysitting. 

 

“I rolled a double.” he continued, hopping his piece forward so he landed on a chance. “Future Chance.” 

 

Hizashi handed him a card, turning it around first so he could read. 

 

“You won a beauty contest.” he started, rolling his eyes. 

 

“Oi!” Aizawa smirked. “How much?”

 

“¥100.”

 

“I’m more beautiful than that.” Aizawa replied taking the money from the bank. “I’m not complaining though.”

 

He rolled again for the double landing this time on two three’s. 

 

“Double again?!” Hizashi groaned, falling back into the kitchen chair. “What?!”

 

Aizawa simply smiled, pushing his piece forward. Hizashi reached to take his jumper off as he did, showing off the full extent of his pink crop top. Aizawa stared at it pointedly. 

 

“I can’t believe you brought that.” he chastised. “You look ridiculous.”

 

“You don’t like it?” Hizashi asked.

 

“Does anyone?”

 

“Nemuri did!”

 

“She doesn’t count. She likes clothes where you pay twice the amount for half the fabric.” 

 

Hizashi snorted at that, trying to stifle it so he wouldn’t active his quirk. 

 

“Right I’m rolling again.” Aizawa continued. “You missed out.”

 

“Missed out what?” Hizashi asked, adjusting his glasses to peer at the board. “Wait! That was my property!” 

 

“Too bad.” Aizawa smirked. “I’ve rolled.”

 

“That is not a rule!” Hizashi argued. 

 

“It is!” Aizawa smiled. 

 

“No! Look that up in the rule book.” Hizashi replied, making a grab for the pamphlet. 

 

“No, I can’t be bothered.” Aizawa replied, pulling it back. “And I’ve rolled another double.”

 

“HA!” Hizashi cried before clamping his mouth shut and whispering; “Go. To. Jail.”

 

“No! That’s not a rule!” This time it was Aizawa’s turn to cry as he pulled the rule book up for his best friend to see. “See because this is exactly what Iida said as well and I looked. It is not in the rule book!”

 

“I want to see!” Hizashi replied, making another grab for the book.

 

“No!” Aizawa replied lifting it above his head. “And be quiet. Or we’ll wake the kids up.”

 

—

 

Little did Aizawa and Hizashi know but most of Class A was already awake. Bakugou had thrown the door open, prepared to fight.

 

“Boo?” 

 

He took one look at the boy outside his room before grabbing him by his collar and throwing him into the room. 

 

“Todoroki?” Midoryia asked as the teenager righted himself. 

 

“What... are you all doing?” Todoroki asked in reply, looking around the room. 

 

“Was that you banging on the door?” Kaminari asked, Kirishima behind him. 

 

Todoroki gave the boy the most dumbfounded look before replying;

 

“No.” 

 

“OoOoOoOohhh it is a ghost!” Ashido cried. 

 

“Wait. What?” Bakugou asked, looking back at the door. 

 

“This is... unusual.” Yaoyorozu commented, the room at a loss of what to do. 

 

“Still want to split up and search?” Sero grinned. 

 

“I still believe that would be most logical.” Iida replied, tight-lipped. 

 

“Who wants to search where?” Shoji asked, getting up from where he was sat, helping Tokoyami up from below. 

 

“Wait. I mean, should we call someone?” Kirishima asked. 

 

“Call someone?” Uraraka questioned. 

 

“Yeah, like Vlad King?” Kirishima continued.

 

“Why?” Todoroki asked. “What’s going on? No-one’s answered my question yet.”

 

“Haven’t you heard the noise?” Sero asked the boy. Todoroki continued to look confused. 

 

“Noise?”

 

“The wailing? The screams? The banging?” Sero offered. “Oh wait the banging was you- WAIT no it wasn’t you!”

 

“Shut. Up.” Bakugou growled, shoving Todoroki slightly. “Stop standing in the middle of the damn room you strawberry lace.”

 

“I heard the noise,” Todoroki began to reply, moving to the side slightly to let Bakugou through. “But it’s just Pre-“

 

“Bakugou you are not going to sleep!” Kirishima cried as Bakugou climbed over his shoulders and back into the bed. “Look we’re not taking this seriously enough. If Aizawa-Sensei isn’t here-“

 

Todoroki put his hand up;

 

“He i-“ 

 

“And that banging wasn’t Todoroki-“ Kirishima continued, interrupting him.

 

“Well actually-?”

 

“Let him speak.” Asui whispered to Todoroki. 

 

“-Then who else could it have been? UA might have been infiltrated!”

 

Todoroki gave up and sat down next to Midoryia. 

 

“Unlikely.” Iida reasoned. “But it wouldn’t hurt to call our teachers and check.”

 

No one had anything to argue with that and so Kirishima pulled out his phone, choosing the number for Vlad and hitting ‘dial’. 

 

It went straight to voicemail.

 

“Guys…” Kirishima muttered. 

 

“It went to voicemail?” Kaminari echoed, looking at the phone. 

 

“It is highly irresponsible for a teacher at UA to have their phone turned off!” Iida cried. 

 

“Then he probably wouldn’t have his phone turned off.” Asui replied. 

 

The room fell to silence for a moment, the fifteen students debating just what to do.

 

“We could phone Aizawa-Sensei?” Yaoyorozu offered.

 

“He’s on patrol though.” Sero replied. That kind of answered that one. Unless the situation was really life threatening, no one wanted to phone their homeroom teacher on patrol.

 

“Our other classmates could be in danger…” Midoryia said, Uraraka nodding beside him. 

 

“We should try and get them up here.” Jiro offered. “Or at least somewhere where we’re altogether.”

 

“Okay so how about the groups of us go to the floors we were going to originally and we can round everyone up to this floor?” Shoji offered.

 

“I’m good with this plan.” Tokoyami agreed.

 

“We’re still missing the common area’s though.” Jiro added. 

 

“Oui, there could be people down there.” Aoyama agreed. 

 

“Well whatever we do, we need to do it,” Kirishima pointed out. “We’re just wasting time like this.”

 

“I’m kinda nervous!” Ashido confessed with a small smile. “What happens if we bump into a ghost?”

 

“How have we not gotten over the ghost thing yet?” Yaoyorozu asked with a small sigh. 

 

“Nah! It’s more likely to be some sort of ax-wielding murderer.” Sero said. 

 

“Although more logical, that’s not helpful Sero!” Iida replied. 

 

“I volunteer to go to the common area!” Uraraka interrupted. 

 

“Me too!” Midoryia agreed.

 

“I don’t” Bakugou retorted. 

 

“Okay, so me, Bakugou and a couple of others will go upstairs.” Kirishima stated. “Who’s left up there?” 

 

“Only Sato.” Sero replied.

 

“Koda and Hagakure on floor three.” Jiro added quickly. 

 

“Oh my god! Hagakure!” Ashido cried. “And Koda!”

 

“Mineta on floor two.” Midoryia finished. 

 

“They’ll have got to him first.” Bakugou pointed out from where he was lying on his bed. “He’ll be grape juice by now.”

 

“Whoever lives on those floors can go retrieve the others.” Tokoyami offered, ignoring Bakugou’s comment.

 

“I want to stay with Midoryia.” Todoroki interjected. 

 

Midoryia looked up at Todoroki for a moment before smiling, his expression filling with determination. 

 

“Right! Let’s go save our classmates!” he cried, beaming at the room who smiled in return. 

 

Bakugou rolled his eyes. 

 

—

 

In the end, the class had split up and Kirishima had even forced Bakugou out of bed. Their plan was to round the others up and meet back at Bakugou’s room in ten minutes. 

 

It was kind of going to plan.

 

“Midoryia.” Todoroki started as the three, made up of Uraraka, Midoryia, and Todoroki himself, made their way down the staircase. 

 

“Yes?” Midoryia replied in a whisper. 

 

The trio had decided that their best option for the staircase, was to climb down it as slowly as possible. The lights were motion sensitive and, without being able to see the door to the common area, Uraraka reasoned that if the door were to be open, their cover would be blown instantly. 

 

The two boys had agreed with this but because of it, they had only managed to get halfway down the stairs in ten minutes. 

 

Whereas the cries from the floor below kept on getting louder. 

 

Midoryia felt his way along the handrail, inching his palm down. His other hand was behind him, gripping Uraraka’s own. He’d had to leave the blanket in Bakugou’s room meaning that the only things he was wearing were his faded All Might pajama top and some boxer shorts. Fine in the warmth of his bed, but in the cold of the winter?  

 

Todoroki stopped in front without the pair noticing, causing them to barrel into him. Midoryia stopped himself as soon as he realized but it meant his torso was pushed firmly up against Todoroki’s back. 

 

“Was everyone joking back then?” Todoroki asked, not seeming to notice the weird proximity between the two. 

 

“W-what..?” Midoryia stuttered, attempting to take a step backward but soon realizing he was in a Todoroki-Uraraka sandwich. “W- what do you mean?” 

 

“When they asked who was banging on the door.” Todoroki replied. 

 

“We thought it must have been you.” Uraraka whispered. She was far too close to Midoryia’s ear for comfort, the teenager feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise up as he tried to keep the rest of himself composed. 

 

“It was.” Todoroki replied. 

 

Silence.

 

“Wait… What?” Midoryia finally stuttered.

 

“Of course it was me,” Todoroki continued staring straight forward. “I thought that was obvious… but now we’re in the middle of a dark staircase and I’m starting to think that nobody believed I was joking.”

 

“You were joking?” Uraraka squeaked. “But you were so serious!”

 

“Uraraka!” Midoryia hissed awkwardly. “Can you not whisper in my ear?” 

 

“Oh sorry!” she giggled, turning her head away slightly. “Was I too loud?” 

 

“Mmhhmmmm..?” Midoryia attempted to reply. 

 

“I was joking.” Todoroki repeated. “The banging on the door was me. I heard everyone in Bakugou’s room and wondered what you were all doing.”

 

“But what about the wailing? And the scream?”

 

“Well that was-“

 

“WHAT are you extra’s doing?!” 

 

Bakugou interrupted Todoroki by bursting through the staircase, followed swiftly by Iida and the rest of class A, including those that had just been woken up.

 

The lights came on immediately with the movement of the fire door, illuminating the three who were still standing in the middle of the staircase, practically on the same step.

 

“We were getting worried!” Iida started, pushing his way to the front. “What… are you doing?”

 

“Todoroki was banging.” Uraraka replied without thinking. 

 

“Right…” Kaminari said, shoving himself between Bakugou and Koda who was still rubbing his eyes sleepily.

 

“Bakugou!” Kirishima suddenly cried from the back of the group. “You’ve turned the lights on!” 

 

There was a shuffling among the students as the red-haired boy came up beside Bakugou, looking down at the trio. 

 

“You guys are okay! We were so worried!” he cried down to them. “Okay so there’s no ghost yet but Jiro-“

 

This time Jiro got pulled to the front of the group to speak. 

 

“Yeah,” she began awkwardly. “Like I could hear people leaving and coming back into the building. Like, more than one?” 

 

“What should we do?” Iida asked. 

 

“There’s people in there,” Uraraka motioned to the common area. “We heard them.” 

 

“I say ambush!” Sero’s voice came from the group. “Take them by surprise!”

 

“Keep your voice down!” Kaminari called back. “Or we won’t be taking them by surprise at all!” 

 

“Just let’s do something.” Bakugou growled, swatting Dark Shadow away who was flying upwards to get a better view. 

 

“Okay. We’ll get to the door,” Kirishima suggested. “Then on three.”

 

The nineteen others that made up 1-A agreed with the plan and made their way down to the door connecting the staircase to the common area. It was clear to hear now, two voices were arguing about something seemingly quite important. 

 

“They’re talking about money.” Jiro whispered, listening in. “I think one of them is going to jail?”

 

“Oh man, this is serious!” Sero replied, the group looking around each other in muted horror. Even Bakugou looked uneasy at this point. 

 

“I wish I could make out who was speaking,” Jiro continued. “But they’re whispering so they sound the same.”

 

“Can you make out anything else?” Midoryia asked. “If we need to phone the police we’ll need as much information as possible.”

 

“Good thinking Midoryia.” Iida replied seriously as Jiro silenced them with a hand. 

 

“They’re talking a lot about houses. I think they’ve broken into places before. I’m not sure though.” she replied quickly. “One of them just asked the other to hand over something? Could be money?”

 

“Shouldn’t we have phoned the police beforehand?” Asui pointed out. 

 

“We’re here now,” Kirishima replied. “We should go in with everything we’ve got!”

 

“If they’ve just broken into UA then we should be able to apprehend them ourselves!” Uraraka added. 

 

“Okay then. Again, on three?” Kirishima asked. 

 

The class nodded as the voices grew louder. 

 

“One.”

 

They readied themselves, getting into position, poised to burst through the door. 

 

“Two.”

 

Bakugou’s palms started blazing as Midoryia activated One for All, the green illuminating the doorway.

 

“THREE!” 

 

This time Kirishima shouted as he pulled the handle down, the twenty kids pummelling their way through the entrance with various battle cries. The only one who didn’t react was Todoroki, who calmly walked in behind his classmates, still confused. 

 

Aizawa burst from his seat, knocking the board over in the process as he turned just in time to dodge Sero’s tape as he erased Bakugou’s quirk, not quick enough to catch Midoryia, who caught him with a left hook, sending him flying into the table. 

 

“Ahhh! Aizawa-Sensei?!” Midoryia cried, his voice breaking as he looked back at his classmates in horror. 

 

“Present Mic?” Jiro asked watching as their English teacher started around at the group before bursting into laughter. 

 

“I was trying to tell you…” Todoroki commented from the back of the room. 

 

“Oh. My. God.” Midoryia gasped, the reality of hitting his homeroom teacher square in the face suddenly dawning on him. “I’msosorryididntmeantohityoubutIthoughtyouwereacriminalofsomesortandIdidntwantanyharmtocometoourclass-“ 

 

“Midoryia.” Aizawa winced from the floor. “Please be quiet.”

 

“You’re not a ghost!” Kirishima cried, as a couple of the girls ran forward to help their homeroom teacher up again. “You’re not a ghost! Thank God! Man I was so convinced!”

 

“Me too!” Sero agreed, laughing slightly. 

 

“A ghost?” Aizawa snapped, brushing himself down and inspecting the damage on the table. “Are all of you up?”

 

“Ah!” Iida cried, picking a playing piece off the floor, no one daring to answer Aizawa. “Monopoly.”

 

“We thought we heard noises,” Yaoyorozu began to explain, coming forward as Midoryia whimpered in the background. “Kirishima thought it was a ghost and then Jiro got the impression that someone had broken from what you guys were- Wait a second…” She turned to Todoroki, confused. “How did you know?”

 

The entire class turned to the boy who looked around at his classmates before pointing to Hizashi. 

 

“I came down to get a drink of water when Aizawa-Sensei was around at the Class B dorms. I bumped into Present Mic then.” he replied innocently. “We played Tiddly-Winks.” 

 

“You. Did. What?” Aizawa growled, turning on his best friend who looked up, his mouth a sheepish ‘o’ shape.

 

“Oh no I think I may have forgotten that bit…” he trailed off.

 

“You think?” Aizawa snapped, turning back to his class. “Right. BED. NOW! We are having a class meeting at nine am sharp, I don’t care how many of you are going home this weekend, you will be there. And, if I hear ANYTHING out of ANY of you, you’re on house arrest.”

 

His jaw hurt. 

 

“Iida!” Hizashi called as 1-A begun to shuffle back out of the common area. “Before you go? Three double rolls on monopoly is instant jail right?”

 

“That’s the way I was brought up to play.” Iida replied.

 

Right, that was it. Aizawa didn’t care who was watching.

 

Hizashi was getting throttled. 

Chapter 26: The Uraraka Problem

Summary:

Aizawa was tired of playing guessing games with teenagers. Then again, he was good at it.

Uraraka keeps on disappearing to go visit her family but Aizawa starts to suspect that something a whole lot more dangerous is going down.

It is 1A after all.

Notes:

Happy Friday to y'all, I hope you're having an amazing week and if not then I hope it gets better!

Quite a few people requested Uraraka/comforting Uraraka/just some more Uraraka in general haha so here's my response to that request!

Thank you all for your continued support on this story and enjoy reading! x

Aizawa was tired of playing guessing games with teenagers. Then again, he was good at it. 

 

It had started just after the cultural festival. 

 

Aizawa had walked into the common area one Saturday morning to find his entire class surrounding a sobbing Uraraka. It had turned out that her dad had fallen at work, breaking his back.

 

It wasn’t life-threatening, but Aizawa heard his student's voice waver as she tried to explain to her classmates. Explain that even though her father was going to be fine, he wouldn’t be able to work.

 

At least not for a long time. 

 

Uraraka didn’t need to say anymore. 1A was already exclaiming how they could raise money by recreating the dance from the festival, taking it out to Tokyo. Sato was pushing a bake sale, which led to Mineta pushing a maid cafe. Again.

 

It was as Aoyama was demonstrating his glitter show, that Aizawa took the opportunity to pull Uraraka aside.

 

“Do you want to go home?” he’d asked quietly, a hand on her shoulder. There were still classes on the Saturday, but there was no hesitation in her answer. Biting the inside of her cheek, she nodded quickly. 

 

That alone said a lot. It didn’t matter about money right then. It didn’t matter about classes. Her dad was still in hospital. 

 

And he was right. Uraraka returned on the Sunday night, knocking on Aizawa’s door at eleven, her eyes watery. 

 

Her dad had been in surgery to replace one of the vertebrae in his back. It would be likely he would be able to walk again but recovery time would be up to twelve weeks. And after that, it was six weeks of physical therapy.

 

Aizawa talked to Nezu, who’d agreed on a short term action plan for the student. UA granted Uraraka permission to leave campus once a week to visit her family. This was as long as she informed the teacher from her last period that she was going. They’d sign the slip and Aizawa would get it back sometime that evening. 

 

Normal teacher stuff. All was good. 

 

That was until Aizawa started noticing a pattern. 

 

It was around three weeks into Uraraka’s home visits. Whereas before, she’d been going to see her dad whenever it suited her family, getting a text in the morning and leaving sometime that evening. Now she’d begun preparing a bag and Aizawa wouldn’t see her go. 

 

Aizawa had noticed it one Wednesday morning, Uraraka walking into his homeroom alongside an ever blushing Midoryia, carrying two bags over her shoulders. 

 

“Decided to bring your entire wardrobe to homeroom?” he’d commented as she’d struggled to pull a textbook out of one of the bags, a black t-shirt falling to the floor next to her desk.

 

“Oh, no, just some things for my dad.” she’d smiled back politely, shoving the top back into her backpack.

 

It was an obvious lie, that was for sure. 

 

Unless her father liked wearing size six black t-shirts. 

 

Homeroom would then continue as normal. After dismissing them, the pro wouldn’t see class 1A until the next morning. 

 

And Uraraka would always look completely run down.

 

Now Aizawa wasn’t an idiot. He knew from personal experience that seeing family was a particularly taxing event. If his family was anything to go off anyway. But Uraraka looked as if she’d left UA to go and do another six hours of school. 

 

The girl was exhausted to the point where she would fall asleep in homeroom. Aizawa, on more than one occasion, would have to get Iida to wake her up. He would have threatened her with detention but he didn’t want to assume that anything more was going on than a dreadful family situation. And an hour of one on one wouldn’t make it any easier on the girl.

 

It still didn’t shrug the thought that there was something more going on. 

 

In an attempt to work it out, the next Wednesday he purposely stayed in the common area. Waiting for her return. There was a part of him that hoped that her lack of sleep was due to nightmares. Maybe, alike Todoroki, she stayed up until the early hours in the common areas, watching the stars and drowning in coffee. 

 

At least that was something easily fixable. Easily understandable. 

 

But when Uraraka finally returned to dorms at half ten in black suit trousers and a black top… Aizawa couldn’t hide his confusion. 

 

Uraraka; flicking on the light and seeing her homeroom teacher sitting in the middle of the kitchen; nearly had a heart attack. 

 

“Everything okay?” he’d asked, trying to act as if he hadn’t noticed her pull her coat tighter around her chest. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei. Sorry. Did you want me to turn the light back off?” the girl had stuttered, dropping her bag to the floor and sliding it behind the counter. 

 

“No, keep it on,” he’d replied, yawning and holding up some paperwork. “I hadn’t noticed it get dark. I might be able to see this now.”

 

Uraraka laughed quickly and picked her bag up, walking past her homeroom teacher with some pace. 

 

“Why the change of clothes?” he finally asked as she was nearly out of the door. He didn’t look up from his work, using his peripheral vision to work out whether she was going to lie or not. 

 

“Oh… We had a visit from the doctor so I wanted to look a bit like, well, like I hadn’t come straight from school.”

 

Aizawa couldn’t tell if it was the truth or not. Uraraka was a good liar.

 

“What did the doctor say?” he pressed, finally allowing himself the chance to look up. He attempted to look as innocent as possible but he could feel his eyes narrow. 

 

“He might be back home in the next couple of weeks! So the rest is definitely doing him some good!” Uraraka replied brightly. 

 

Aizawa could tell she’d caught onto his suspicion. Damn it. 

 

“Good.”

 

He gave up. 

 

“Go, sleep, you look tired.”

 

And she did. Exhausted. 

 

“Night Sensei.”

 

“Goodnight Ochako.” 

 

Uraraka softened slightly at the use of her first name, but didn’t say anymore, simply nodding and leaving the room. 

 

Aizawa watched her go before sighing, letting his head slide onto the desk.

 

He hated having to play the detective. 

 

— 

 

As the weeks passed, Aizawa became grateful that at least two of his students were terrible liars. 

 

Midoryia and Iida were his next clue. 

 

As Uraraka’s best friends, both boys wore their hearts and their feelings on their sleeves. Especially when it came to each others well being.

 

Aizawa usually played no part in their friendship but, after overanalyzing them for a week, he had a newfound respect for the way they kept one another in check.

 

Sometimes it was the four of them. Todoroki often sat with them at lunch, even if it was just to listen into their conversations.

 

However, it seemed that even the boys had started tiptoeing around the ‘Uraraka 

situation’.

 

Aizawa would watch sometimes, on the Wednesday. Midoryia would offer to take her bag. Iida would then always ask what was in it and Uraraka would always come up with some excuse. For a while, it would work… but it wasn’t long before they caught on. The boys would have gifts for Uraraka’s family and she’d decline. Questions would be parried, met with airy smiles and a change of subject. 

 

“You must let us escort you one time!” Aizawa had overheard Iida say after one homeroom. 

 

“No, no, no!” Uraraka replied lightly. “Honestly, I’m fine!”

 

“It’s getting dark outside.” Midoryia had reasoned. 

 

“Yeah. Something bad could happen to you.” Todoroki had added. He still needed to work on the tact. 

 

“I can protect myself!” Uraraka had insisted. 

 

“We know-“ Iida had started. 

 

“Thank you though.” Uraraka had interrupted. “For offering. I’m fine though. Really.”

 

Ever since then, her replies had been met with worried glances between the boys.

 

By this point, he was tempted to drag the girl straight to his office. Have her say whatever was on her mind then and get it over with. But something told him that that wouldn’t work. If she wasn’t opening up to her best friends, then why would she confide in him? He was too cautious that she would just lie her way out of the situation and shut herself off once and for all. 

 

The whole thing was infuriating. 

 

—

 

The next Wednesday started the same. Uraraka came into homeroom with two backpacks. This time Aizawa noted that neither Iida nor Midoryia offered to help her. They both looked… pissed off.

 

And by pissed off, Aizawa meant that Midoryia looked like he had worms for insides and IIda looked like he had a ruler shoved up his back. 

 

The three had clearly had an argument. Aizawa hoped it wouldn’t ruin his lesson plan. 

 

After homeroom was over, Aizawa only got halfway down the corridor before he realized he’d left his sleeping bag. With a growl, he turned back. However, before he could round the corner, he heard voices. He slowed. Instantly.

 

“I just don’t feel comfortable unless you say yes to Todoroki’s proposal.” he heard Iida say quietly.

 

“Exactly,” Midoryia’s voice chimed in, a low whisper. “Now we know where you’re really going.”

 

Now. This could be interesting. 

 

“Guys. I’m fine. Honestly, I don’t want you to be involved.” Uraraka replied. Her voice strained. 

 

“But you told us.” Iida interrupted. 

 

“Because you wanted to know!” Uraraka cried. “That’s all.”

 

Aizawa racked his mind desperately, trying to work out what she could have possibly kept from them. The group were incredibly close to one another, it reminded him of himself and Hizashi. They’d tackled nearly every emotion on the spectrum and Uraraka was an incredibly honest and heartfelt student. If she had hidden something from her best friends… Well, that was the problem Aizawa didn’t know what to think. He could just feel his stomach sink. 

 

They were technically loitering outside class. He could just around the corner now, demanded some sort of answer-

 

“You shouldn’t have to go through this alone Uraraka.” Midoryia replied. From what Aizawa could hear, he was getting a little desperate. “We’re here for you.” 

 

“I know.” Uraraka said, her voice dropping so Aizawa could only just make out what she was saying. He was nearing the corner now, about to turn, only just placing one foot in front of the other. His muscles twitching instinctively.

 

“Let me collect you. Especially now that it’s dark at ten.” Todoroki’s voice whispered. “I know the way to the-“

 

“Erasure?”

 

Aizawa snapped his head around to see Ectoplasm behind him, his head cocked to one side. 

 

“Ectoplasm.” Aizawa stated. There was a pause. “Are you okay?”

 

“I was about to ask the same question to you.” the man replied, amused. “What are you doing?”

 

“I’m…”

 

Aizawa could hardly say he was spying on his students. 

 

“I was collecting my sleeping bag.” he finally replied watching as his colleague walk around the corridor.

His student's conversation ended immediately, followed by a flurry of looks between all of them, bar Uraraka. 

 

“Into class now.” Ectoplasm called as he walked past them. “Maths.” 

 

Aizawa opened his mouth to say something, pull one of them aside. He racked his brain for some meaningless task he could get them to do to force them to end up in his office. 

 

His mind drew a blank.

 

Aizawa found himself traipsing in after his own students, thinking back to the conversation, running it through in his head. 

 

Where was it that Todoroki had mentioned?

 

Oh yeah, Aizawa had missed that bit. 

 

—

 

That evening, as expected, a note arrived in Aizawa’s office notifying him that Uraraka had gone to see her parents. 

 

As per. 

 

“How’s she getting on?” Yagi asked from across the room, looking over the desks at the note. “Midoryia seemed troubled in my lesson.”

 

“Of course you’d notice Midoryia being troubled.” Aizawa retorted. 

 

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating.” Yagi replied, acting as if he was suddenly really interesting in his marking. Aizawa scoffed and leant back in his chair.

 

“Something’s going on with her.” he stated. 

 

“What do you mean?” Yagi asked, sitting straighter in his chair. Aizawa played with the permission slip in his hand. 

 

“I don’t know but if it’s got Midoryia acting weird, then it’s got to be life-threatening.” he joked.

 

“Bone breaking.” Yagi added.

 

“Friendship making.” Aizawa snorted.

 

“Career ending.”

 

Aizawa stared at the former pro, his eyes wide.

 

“Your face!” Yagi grinned. “Ah, if you can’t make light of your own misfortunes…” The pro shrugged, getting up from his chair and pulling his bag over his shoulder lazily. “If I notice anything different with young Ochako, I’ll let you know.”

 

“Appreciated.” Aizawa called after him as the former symbol of peace left his field of vision. He heard the door go, lifting himself out of his seat to log off when-

 

“You have visitors.” Yagi called from the doorway. 

 

Aizawa turned, to be greeted with Midoryia, IIda and Todoroki all standing awkwardly. Eyes averted, nose flared. 

 

Iida was the first to break the silence.

 

“Aizawa-Sensei. May we talk to you about something?”

 

“It’s important,” Midoryia added quickly. “It’s about Uraraka…”

 

—

 

Aizawa left Iida in charge of Class 1A, insisting he’d be half an hour. 

 

And with that, he took off towards Tokyo. 

 

He already had the address plugged into his phone, capture weapon tucked under his coat. He didn’t want to have to use it, but he was aware he would probably have to. 

 

Turning down a side road, the heavens decided to open. Pathetic fallacy. Aizawa pulled his collar up across his mouth, letting his eyes screw up in anger, his pace increasing. 

 

By the time Midoryia, Iida and Todoroki were done relaying the events of the last month, it had tipped past eight thirty. The sky was black. 

 

Aizawa didn’t know how long Uraraka had been out, but it was no matter. The streets were dangerous at night. Especially for a UA student. She knew that. She knew what happened to Iida when he went to find Stain, she knew what happened to Midoryia just before the cultural festival. That was only last month. 

 

It’s not that he thought Uraraka lacked common sense, but she was selfless to the point of selfishness. If she could feel the way his stomach was in knots, the way his legs were itching to start running, how his breathing was struggling to stay in pace… If she knew.

 

But she wouldn’t. Aizawa couldn’t admit that to a student. It was unprofessional and hell, he could barely admit it to himself. 

 

She would, however, know his anger. That was for sure. And Aizawa didn’t care, as long as he was telling her off back in his office. Back in UA. Where she was safe.

 

It was almost a relief when he turned into the street, the neon 7Eleven sign blinking up ahead of him. 

 

Right. 

 

He could already see the teen. Uraraka was behind a till, her black t-shirt and pants covered by a green logo’ed apron. She was chatting happily to a customer, packing their shopping and waving them off. 

 

He could see that she was exhausted, he knew her well enough to see that her smile was faked. But there was something about just how oblivious the girl was, how comfortable she seemed. In juxtaposition to his pounding chest, the lump in his throat, it was almost mocking him.

 

Oh, she wasn’t going to be smiling for much longer. 

 

—

 

Aizawa entered the shop, shoving the door open with a start. He looked over at the tills, but Uraraka was stacking a line of cigarettes behind her. 

 

Damn it. That was going to be his entrance. But she hadn’t noticed him come in. 

 

The customer she’d just been serving pushed past him to get out the door and Aizawa was forced down one of the aisles. Right, he needed to find a manager. Pacing down the shop, his hand reached back for his capture weapon. An attempt to calm the new rush of adrenaline. Why were there no staff in this damn store anyway? What happened if a villain attacked? Would it be left for his student to defend the entire store? Aizawa had no doubt she would be able to, but no one else would. 

 

Unless she’d told them her quirk. Was that even a requirement on employment forms nowadays? Aizawa had lied every time he’d needed a part time job. Uraraka better have lied as well. Unless they recognized her from the sports festival? He could already picture Nezu’s face. The paperwork.

 

“Hello sir, can I help you at all?”

 

A store assistant interrupted his thoughts from where he’d stopped, mid-aisle. The boy in front of him looked barely of working age himself. Seventeen at a push? What parent allowed their kid to work in the middle of Tokyo on a school night?

 

“I need to speak to your manager.” he stated, pulling his hero pass out of his pocket and brandishing it. “I’m the pro hero Erasurehead. I need one of your employees.”

 

The assistant looked startled for a moment, taking a second to open and close his mouth. Aizawa felt his nostrils flare.  

 

“Oh… Right… yes, of course!” the assistant stuttered back at him, placing down the box of stock he was stacking and tripping over his feet to turn to the back room. “Erasurehead. Okay. Which employee?”

 

“Uraraka.” he replied. The sales assistant looked back at him, blank expression. “Short, brown hair?” He was getting impatient, taking to pointing in the direction of the tills. “That girl.”

 

Looking up he came eye to eye with his student. She stopped packing bags to turn sheet white, flustering in front of the costumer she was attending. Aizawa’s gaze didn’t falter and Uraraka kept on looking back up, her chest rising as her cheeks flooded crimson. The sales assistant followed his stare and nodded quickly. 

 

“I’ll be right back sir.” he said, walking quickly into the staff room. 

 

Uraraka caught sight of the boy leave and tried to hurry up with the customer she was serving. She hurriedly gave out the change, smiling quickly before pressing on the tills. She stepped down from the podium, walking around to follow the sale assistant. 

 

Aizawa felt his legs move in her direction, watching as her eyes darted between him and the staff room. 

 

Aizawa knew he wouldn’t just be able to grab her. He could already tell she was in some distress, her hands shaking as she approached the door. 

 

As she did, it flung open revealing a man in his late forties. A burly guy with a receding hairline and breath that stank of cigarettes. The manager. It reminded Aizawa of everything he hated about retail.

 

“Oi. Get back on tills.”

 

Uraraka opened her mouth to protest, but Aizawa could tell she was struggling not to cry. 

 

“What do you need her for?” the manager asked lazily, turning towards the pro. 

 

‘Her’ Aizawa already wanted to punch this guy. 

 

“She’s my student.” he replied steadily. “She’s late for curfew. I’m here to take her home.”

 

The man scoffed. Uraraka stayed standing between the two, unsure of who to follow. Aizawa made sure not to look at her. She probably really would start crying at that. Aizawa was just taking comfort from the fact that she was close. Within his protection.

 

“Right. I can’t just let you have one of my staff,” the manager drawled. “I don’t know who you are for a start. Haven’t heard of an ‘Erasurehead’. Come back at ten when she’s finished her shift.”

 

“I don’t think you heard me.” Aizawa said lowly, his eyes turning a threatening shade of red. “I’m her to take her home.”

 

The man wavered slightly, giving Aizawa a glance before turning to Uraraka 

 

“Hey. Alice.”

 

Uraraka replied, her voice shaky and quiet.

 

“Yes. Sir.”

 

“Do you know this man?” the manager continued, pointing to Aizawa. 

 

Uraraka took a second. Aizawa finally turned to look down at her. He must have looked livid because Uraraka’s crimson cheeks paled to white beneath him. She nodded, unable to speak, her breath caught in her throat. 

 

The other sales assistant looked worriedly at her, attempting to reach out with one hand. Aizawa shot him a look as well. He didn’t want the boy comforting his student. He was getting impatient.

 

“Let me take her home,” he said slowly, pulling out his policing permit. “Or I’ll call the authorities.”

 

This time the man stopped before he spoke, taking the permit and studying it under the light. There was a moment and suddenly he looked the most professional Aizawa had seen look this entire conversation.

 

“Okay. Alice, if you know this man, you can go…” 

 

“Get your stuff.” Aizawa said to Uraraka shortly. She nodded once before dashing off. 

 

“I’ll need you to make up this shift.” the manager called after her.

 

Aizawa gave the man the most venomous look and the manager scuttled off to the tills. He didn’t want any of his students anywhere near the man. Not if he could help it. 

 

It didn’t take long for Uraraka to return. She had both backpacks on but no coat. Just a thin jumper covering her t-shirt. Aizawa took off his own coat, passing it to his student who took it gingerly. 

 

“Put this on.” he said shortly. “It’s raining.”

 

Her eyes were already red-rimmed from crying, her entire body shrouding away from him.

 

She did as she was told however and the two headed out of the 7eleven. They walked up the street until they got to one of the main roads. Aizawa pulled out his phone and sent a quick text. 

 

Uraraka stood next to him but not close. Her hand shakily pulled the coat tighter towards herself. 

 

“We’re getting a taxi.” he stated.

 

“I have my train ticket.” Uraraka replied quietly, her head hanging in shame.

 

“I said. We’re getting a taxi.” Aizawa replied through his teeth.

 

Uraraka had the common sense not to argue further. 

 

The two continued the rest of the journey in silence. Uraraka was almost statue-like sitting next to him in the cab. She didn’t move, she didn’t make a single sound. At one point Aizawa turned his head to check she was still breathing. He didn’t want her to work her way up into a full panic attack. 

 

The taxi stopped and Aizawa paid. He got out without a word and let Uraraka follow him as he walked them past dorms and towards the main building of UA. He unlocked the office, stepping inside to turn on the light, Uraraka following him in, shivering. 

 

“Sit.” 

 

Uraraka sat in the nearest chair, draping the coat on the back of it and placing down her bags silently. Aizawa continued to stand. 

 

“Do you know what the concept of trust is?” he finally asked.

 

Uraraka looked down at her hands and nodded.

 

“Look up and address me properly.” Aizawa heard himself snap.

 

Uraraka flinched, sitting straight and looking upwards, making herself speak.

 

“Yes, Sensei.”

 

Aizawa paused, forcing eye contact.

 

“So why did you decide to lie to your teachers, your parents and your classmates?” he eventually continued. “Do you have any idea the consequences your reckless actions could have caused?” 

 

Aizawa wasn’t going to let her answer that one.

 

“If something had happened to you, it would have fallen back on UA.”

 

Uraraka’s fidgeting stopped, her pupils dilating as she began to realise the consequences of her actions. Aizawa leant forward, his voice dropping in tone. 

 

“Every teacher that signed the permission slip to allow you to go and see your parents? They would have been fired. And that includes me. I also know that Todoroki was going to collect you after your shift tonight, which means he could have been put in danger as well.”

 

“I did go and see my dad before I went to work…” her voice trailed off. She wiped her face furiously, her eyes panning downwards once more.

 

Aizawa grabbed Hizashi’s desk chair and dragged it opposite the teenager. He sat down, bending slightly to place his elbows on his knees so they were the same height. 

 

“There are reasons we have rules in place.” he spoke, not letting the dark tone lift from his voice. “As a student on the hero course, you are more at risk of being attacked, robbed, kidnapped. Do you want me to continue?”

 

Uraraka’s breathing hitched as she pulled herself backwards, pushing herself onto the back of the chair. Her mouth clamped and bottom lip trembling a great deal, she went back to shaking her head. Her eyes almost overflowing, it was getting hard for Aizawa to maintain eye contact. 

 

“We need to know where you are.” he stressed. “You’re not foolish. You know that we do. Which means you broke the rules knowing the implications it would have on your friends and your teachers. And by breaking those rules Uraraka, you acted utterly selfishly. You forgot what it means to be a true hero.”

 

The girl wasn’t trying to stop the tears now, her hair beginning to stick to her cheeks.

 

“Failure to abide by the most basic rules is not exemplary of a UA student. I should expel you on the spot.”

 

And she broke. 

 

Taking what seemed to be a gasp, Uraraka choked on her breath, breaking into a sob. She bowed deeply in her chair, her arms covering her head as her body shook. 

 

“I’m sorry!” she cried from below him. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

 

“I’m not going to expel you.” he stated. “Sit up.”

 

But she didn’t. Uraraka had lost any sense of self control she’d once had, weeping into her forearms, guttural cries that were causing Aizawa to blink. 

 

“Uraraka.” he tried after a moment, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. “Come on now.”

 

It was a good minute before her breathing calmed. Aizawa’s hand remained on her shoulder, feeling as her shakes decreased, paying close attention to her breathing. He eventually stood, reaching across to Nemuri’s desk and produced a box of tissues which Uraraka took gratefully.  

 

Aizawa lent forward in his seat again, making sure to catch eye contact with the girl. 

 

“Tomorrow, you are going to hand in your notice. You will be on house arrest for the rest of the week and I expect a written apology to every teacher that you got a signature from. That includes me and Principle Nezu.”

 

Uraraka nodded, her eyes spilling over once more but her attention focused. 

 

Aizawa continued,

 

“You will not be allowed to leave campus until I feel as if I can trust you again. And lastly, I want a list. I want a list of all the things that your parents still pay for you, whether that’s clothing or train tickets. Anything. From there I can see if there’s anything we can cover for you here at UA. I don’t want you or your family suffering because of money, especially if there’s something we can do about it, alright?”

 

Her mouth dropped. 

 

“I couldn’t…”

 

“You will.” Aizawa pressed. “You need to learn how to ask for help. It’s not shameful. Lying is far, far worse than asking for help. Do you understand?”

 

“I understand.” she replied quickly, nose flaring as she regained her composure. “I promise I understand. I’ll never lie again, I promise I won’t do anything to betray your trust or anyone else or… I… Thank you.”

 

“Okay.” Aizawa replied, satisfied with her response, sighing for the first time that night and rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Go back to the dorms.”

 

Uraraka nodded, getting up from the seat and bowing once more. 

 

“Oh and Uraraka.” Aizawa said as he watched her collect all her bags from the floor. “You have three friends back at dorms who you ought to thank. If they hadn’t informed me of your whereabouts this evening, then I can assure you things would have ended far worse for us all.”

 

“Yes Sensei.” Uraraka replied, turning from where she was hovering at the door. “I’ll try harder. I won’t let you down! I’ll become a great hero!” 

 

“I know you will.” Aizawa replied as she finally left the office. 

 

“That’s why I didn’t expel you.” he finished once she was out of earshot. Groaning slightly, he got out of HIzashi’s chair, looking at the clock at the wall. 

 

He’d been gone forty-five minutes. Iida was going to call him out for that one. Like a mother hen. Probably inform him he had ‘lied’. 

 

Ah, the irony. 

 

Notes:

Next week will be the second half of the mental health class because OML it was so requested - but yeah just a warning in advance x

If there’s any topics you want me to touch upon let me know in the comments x

Chapter 27: Coping Mechanisms

Summary:

The second time that Aizawa talks about mental health and realises his class are fucked.

But this time they realise he's fucked as well.

Ah, the joys of hero culture.

Notes:

This chapter comes with a WARNING!!!

They'll be heavy mentions of PTSD and mental health issues so please do not read if you feel uncomfortable doing so.

Another note is to say that I, myself, have diagnosed PTSD and this chapter is taken from MY experiences, and MY experiences alone. Please DO NOT compare, invalidate etc blah, blah, blah

Not that I think anyone would. This fic has one of the nicest communities I've seen in the MHA fandom (look how many of you helped me out with my shaving haha !!!!)

Otherwise here's to this much-requested chapter!

 

“Eat shit and die, you moron!”

 

“Bakugou! Stop sitting on furniture!”

 

“That’s what furniture is for Emergency Exit! For fucking sitting on!”

 

“That is not what desks are for!”

 

“Who says?”

 

“Bakugou. Pipe down.” Aizawa scolded, walking into homeroom. “Iida get to your seat.”

 

Both Bakugou and Iida instantly stopped arguing from where Bakugou was practically lying across Kirishima’s desk. The rest of the class seemed to pay no notice. As per. Aizawa sighed. 

 

“And stop doing whatever it is you’re doing with Kirishima’s pen.”

 

Bakugou looked up at his homeroom teacher, his best friends pen brandished in one hand. He dropped it onto the desk, Kirishima scrabbling for it.

 

“Cheers Bakubro!” Kirishima called as Bakugou turned on his heels, stalking back to the other side of the room. The rest of 1A finished up their own conversations, slipping into their usual places and getting out their notebooks.

 

“It should work now I’ve heated the ink up.” Aizawa heard Bakugou mutter. 

 

Aizawa stared for a moment. He was getting Kirishima’s pen to work… 

 

“The boy sure had a funny way of showing affection.” Hizashi’s voice came from behind him. Aizawa turned to where both Nemuri and Hizashi were in the doorway. 

 

“You can come in you know.” he replied to his two best friends. 

 

Aizawa walked across to his desk, shoving his sleeping bag to one side of his desk and pulled out his lesson plan. 

 

“Good morning class.”

 

Twenty pairs of eyes turned to stare at him with various levels of enthusiasm. They widened as they saw who he was with. 

 

“Mic-Sensei!” Midoryia gasped “And, woah! Midnight as well!”

 

“Shut. Up.” Bakugou growled from just in front of him.

 

“If only you were that observant in all your lessons Midoryia.” he drawled. Aizawa pointed Nemuri and Hizashi towards the back of the room.

 

“Grab a spare desk to sit on.” Aizawa offered, turning his attention to his students. “Today is going to go a little differently from your usual lesson plan.”

 

Now the class was awake. 

 

“As you can see,” Aizawa continued. “I have Present Mic and Midnight here-“

 

“Are we going to be training?” Kaminari called out excitedly. 

 

“No.” Aizawa replied, expecting the groans. “But they’ll be no morning lessons. As it’s Thursday, that means you’ll have no double English. And instead of Art sixth period, you’ll be having Japanese instead. Hero lessons will go ahead as planned at 11:40.”

 

There were a few excited mutters about the thought of missing double English, a few groans about Japanese. Art with Midnight was, admittedly, much more fun than learning kanji even Aizawa could sympathise with that one.

 

“No fear listeners!” Mic cried with a wink as he helped Midnight carry in a table. “I have extra English work for you all.”

 

Aizawa watched as the majority of 1A shrunk two inches, slouching back into their seats. Sero over-dramatically head-butted the table causing a few of them to laugh.

 

Aizawa smirked at his best friends enthusiasm. 

 

“It should also be noted that this lesson is not compulsory.” Aizawa said, watching 1-A look back up in surprise. “You don’t have to attend or even partake, but it would be helpful for you all as heroes-in-training, if you did.”

 

Asui placed her hand up in the air. 

 

“Asui?” Aziawa asked. 

 

“What are we learning about?” she asked, Iida nodding enthusiastically beside her. 

 

“It has come to our attention that more focus on the school's curriculum should be on mental health.” Aizawa began, watching his students slump a little into their desks. 

 

“Is this because of that class weeks ago?”  Jiro piped up, twiddling one earphone jack between her fingers. 

 

“Oh yeah! That one where we had to compliment each other and we talked about purpose and the news!” Ashido cried. “That was fun!” 

 

“Meh, it was depressing.” Aoyama sighed, flicking the hair out of his eyes. 

 

“I liked the stories!” Uraraka chimed. 

 

“Yeah! Can we hear more about when you guys were students?” Kaminari grinned. 

 

“You. Guys...” Aizawa muttered lowly, his eyes squinting, headache brewing. “Watch your tone Kaminari.”

 

“Yes, Sensei.” Kaminari replied, one hand reaching towards the back of his head awkwardly. 

 

“We won’t be telling stories.” Aizawa continued. “We wanted to take this morning to have an open discussion. Mic and Midnight are here to assist on topics that I don’t have enough knowledge on.”

 

“Like body image?” Uraraka asked, her head tilted. 

 

“Exactly.” Aizawl replied. 

 

“Juggling careers?” Yaoyorozu added. 

 

“Makeup?” 

 

“No Ashido.” Aizawa growled.

 

“Not looking like a hero?” Jiro asked pointedly. 

 

“Woah, woah! Who doesn’t look like a hero here?” Hizashi cried. “I don’t look like your average hero, but I bet I could take you all down in combat.” 

 

“I assure you, you could not.” Aizawa reprimanded his best friend glaring in Bakugou’s direction. Just in case he tried to throw down some sort of gauntlet. The boy was glaring out of the window instead.  

 

“We can cover all of those topics if you want,” he continued. “But first, I want to ask you all a question.”

 

There was a pause.

 

“What, do you think, is the most common mental health issue among heroes?” he asked, addressing the entire class. 

 

There was a second before a flurry of hands rose. Aizawa shook his head slightly. 

 

“I’m not going to ask you in turn, feel free to call out.” he said.

 

“Anxiety?” Uraraka was the first to try and answer. 

 

Bakugou huffed under his breath.

 

“I’m not scared of shit.”

 

“Bakugou.” Midnight called. “Language!”

 

“Everyone’s scared of something.” Iida reasoned. 

 

“Like, maybe depression?” Kirishima answered, diverting the attention. “Because, you know, there’s so much death surrounding hero careers.”

 

A lot of the class agreed with that, nodding and shrugging. 

 

“PTSD?”

 

“Correct. Todoroki.” Aizawa replied. Todoroki nodding once before pulling out a pencil, beginning to draw into the corner of his workbook. “Post traumatic stress disorder is the most common mental health disorder in hero society.”

 

“And a lot of people don’t even realize they have it.” Midnight added. 

 

“Exactly.” Aizawa agreed. “That’s why it’s important to talk about it.”

 

Most of the class looked back up at him with blank expressions. 

 

“Wait…” Ashido suddenly said from her place in the middle of the class. “Post what?”

 

“Post traumatic stress disorder.” Todoroki replied. “It makes sense. A lot of soldiers were diagnosed with it after World War Two I think.”

 

“You have flashbacks, that’s the one, oui?” Ayoama added. 

 

“Flashbacks? Like dreams but you’re awake?” Sero asked. 

 

“Yeah, but about the past.” Kaminari replied.

 

“Hands up. How many of you believe you have PTSD?” Aizawa called across the classroom. 

 

There was a moment of silence, the entire classes hands planted firmly in their laps before Asui gingerly placed her own into the air. Aizawl noticed her cheeks turn red, the room looking in her direction as her eyeline slid to the floor. 

 

“I mean… I know I do, ribbit.” she spoke softly. “They told me after the USJ incident. But I’m okay now.”

 

There was a pause and Midnight strode forward, her heels clicking on the floor as she knelt in front of the student's desk.

 

“Don’t worry about it.” she smiled.

 

“Do you want to know a little secret?” Mic grinned. 

 

The class stayed silent, but there were a few enthusiastic nods as their attention turned to their English teacher. 

 

“We all have PTSD!” he cried referring to Midnight and Aizawa. “In fact, most heroes do, did you know?”

 

“Yes.” Aizawa replied from beside him. “That was the first question.”

 

He shot Mic a look but his best friend just continued grinning back at him. 

 

“I’m going to read out some symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder.” Aizawa continued. “Some you might know some, you might not. That’s fine.”

 

He brought out a sheet from the pile, looking down at it and sighing slightly. 

 

“Nightmares relating to a specific event-“

 

Just the first symptom had rustled some of his students. A few heads lifting, some concerned expressions. 

 

Aizawa wanted to stop, address one point at a time, but he continued. 

 

“-intruding memories, anxiety, depression, numbness, avoidance of certain activities and places…”

 

Aizawa didn’t need to read out anymore.

 

“Hands up again. How many of you think you’ve had one or more of those symptoms?” 

 

This time there was less of a pause. With Asui confident enough to put her hand up there was a few who followed suit. Midoryia at first, then Uraraka, Iida, Sero, it went on. Even Bakugou ended up placing his hand in the air, resting his elbow on the desk. 

 

Todoroki’s hand was barely reaching past his chest but Aizawa could see it. It was there. 

 

There was almost a wave of relief that washed over the pro. Getting Hizashi and Nemuri to save their mornings had been relatively easy, but he was worried that he’d made the wrong call. Third years, yes they understood PTSD, they were ready to hear the truth. First years? Sixteen-year-olds? Aizawa had been worried it was too soon. 

 

It wasn’t.

 

“Okay. Hands down.” Aizawa said after a moment. “Don’t worry if you put your hand up or not. It doesn’t make a difference. What we want to do this morning is try and explain why PTSD is such an issue within hero society. What you can do to try and help yourself and help others.”

 

Iida’s hand rose. 

 

“Iida.”

 

“Mic-Sensei. You said that you all had... PTSD. Is it something to be expected as a student of UA?” he asked. 

 

“Also, how did you get diagnosed?” Yaoyorozu added quickly. 

 

“It’s not something to be expected.” Mic replied, laughing lightly from his spot on the table. 

 

“Although...” Midnight interrupted. “As a UA student, it’s definitely more viable.”

 

“We were all diagnosed way too late.” Aizawa continued. “That wasn’t UA’s fault, but it is one of the reasons why I have asked Principle Nezu to have this chat with you now.”

 

Uraraka’s hand rose tentatively. 

 

“Uraraka!” Midnight called. 

 

“Em well...” she paused at that, flustered. Aizawa could already tell what was coming. “You don’t have to answer, of course-“

 

“But you’d like to know what happened?” Aizawa finished for her with a small smile. “I’m fine with telling you. It makes no difference to me.”

 

He could see Hizashi and Nemuri giving him looks out of the corner of his eye. He knew what their sceptical expressions meant. He ignored them. Somewhat out of the childish embarrassed that it might make him look scared. It was years ago. It was…

 

“It was one of the first patrols I’d been on since I graduated.” Aizawa started, taking a breath, noticing his heart rate begin to rise out of habit, watching old memories flash in the forefront of his mind. He noticed them and ignored them, keeping his expression metered. “I wasn’t even on the front line, it was a small ambush on a bank robbery. There were maybe five of us? I…”

 

Aizawa watched as the memory played across his vision. 1A were still looking up at him, expectantly but Aizawa could only just see them. 

 

“I.. dropped in-front of the villain as he was firing his shot.” 

 

He was getting into the flow of it now.

 

“At the same time, there was this hero, one of my comrades, who stepped out in front and… I’ll never forget, I remember the villain got him straight in the eye.”

 

1A recoiled slightly at that, Aoyama screwing up his face, Koda covered his eyes with his hand. 

 

“Was it gory?” Kaminari asked without thinking. Aizawa scoffed slightly at the question, watching Sero reach over to prod the boy with a pointed glare. His laugh countered his racing heart as he continued. 

 

“I had blood all over my clothes.” Aizawa replied matter-of-factly, the memory fading as he spoke. “I can’t remember thinking that at the time. My mind was focused on how to help. It wasn’t until weeks afterwards that I noticed something was different.” 

 

Aizawa could see Midoryia’s arm hovering, the cogs whirring inside the boy's mind. 

 

“I’m not going to reveal who the hero was.” Aizawa stated before the boy could ask his question. “Because he’s not a hero anymore. He didn’t die, but he is permanently blind. His left eye… is just a scar now.”

 

Midoryia nodded and Aizawa took a breath. “

 

He didn’t step out to save me either. It was a matter of chance. Seconds later or earlier and it could’ve been me who was blinded.” 

 

Iida’s hand rose, blocking out any chance of memories replying in Aizawa’s mind. 

 

“So, did you develop the symptoms of PTSD because of the trauma of seeing a comrade hurt or because it was nearly you?” the teenager asked. 

 

“I don’t know.” Aizawa answered honestly. “But I knew it was PTSD because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I must have thought about those five seconds every single day. Twice a day, three times a day, more. And yes, I felt guilty even though I had nothing to feel guilty about-”

 

“I would feel the same.” Ashido commented. 

 

“Yeah, me too…” Kirishima echoed.

 

Aizawa smiled slightly.

 

“There’s no wrong or right way to deal with a situation like that. And I wasn’t diagnosed with PTSD straight away.” Aizawa continued. “There was a documentary about it on the news channel one night and the symptoms fitted mine perfectly. Only then, did I tell someone about it. I told Mic.”

 

“And I was the one who phoned to make him a doctors appointment.” Hizashi smiled. 

 

“But by this point, it had been months.” Aizawa stressed. “I’m not the same hero because of it. I’m not the same person because of it.”

 

“You were on your way to be frontline.” Midnight mused from beside him. There were a few gasps from his students. Aizawa was almost flattered. 

 

“Do you think you would have been a frontline hero?” Midoryia asked, eyes gleaming.

 

“I don’t know. Potentially, yes.” Aizawa shrugged, keeping his demeanour cool.

 

“And all of this could have been preventable if you’d had counselling?” Iida asked,

 

“No, that’s not what I’m trying to say.” Aizawa replied quickly. “What I’m trying to get across to you is that I could’ve gone a long time without feeling the way I did. Or at least to a lesser extent. If PTSD is bad, it can become a really big part of your everyday life.

 

A pencil cracked from the back of the room, causing the class to turn. Todoroki stood suddenly, his chair crashing into the back wall. 

 

“Can I be excused?” he asked quickly, his head bowed, eyes planted firmly to the floor, face sheet white. “I… I don’t feel well.”

 

“Todoroki?” Yaoyorozu asked, reaching a hand out for her classmate. Todoroki had already begun getting out of his place, making headway for the door. He pushed her arm away firmly, pulling towards the front of the class. 

 

“Todoroki!” Hizashi called after him but the teenager threw the door open, taking off down the hallway. 

 

Midnight was the first to get up.

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s okay.” she said, throwing the class a smile before leaving the room after the boy. 

 

“The rest of you, sit.” Hizashi commanded, stopping both Midoryia and Yaoyorozu who were halfway out of their seats. They sank back down reluctantly, the rest of the class looking around. Even Bakugou had stopped staring out of the window. 

 

“Was that PTSD?” Kirishima said, his voice low. 

 

“Shut up.” Bakugou replied. 

 

For once everyone was silent. 

 

The air conditioning suddenly became the loudest sound in the room.

 

‘Yes.’ Aizawa thought. ‘Yes, it was.’

 

Aizawa felt his stomach drop, his cheeks burning, his mind racing through the class discussion. He was so caught up in his own story he’d forgotten to pay attention. But that must have been it. It could have been reading out the symptoms. Todoroki might not have known. Aizawa tried to picture the boy's file in his head. Was PTSD on there? It could have been his story, the eye. He didn’t even think about the implications of what he was saying. Permanent scarring. To the eye. He was stupid. Just so-

 

His face must have been readable for once, as he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to see his best friend looking at him. Hizashi’s expression was one he recognized from a long way back. 

 

“Are you okay?” Aizawa saw Hizashi mouth. He nodded, silently. He wanted desperately to go and check on Todoroki, but he had twenty students. And no idea what he would have said. 

 

Instead, he swallowed thickly. 

 

“I said it at the beginning of this lesson and I’ll say it again. This class is not compulsory.” Aizawa stated slowly, looking around at his class, his eyes settling on the most vulnerable. “If you don’t feel as if you should be here then you are welcome to go now and return for hero class.” 

 

His eyes landed on Asui first, then Midoryia and then Uraraka. The three most vulnerable in Aizawa’s opinion. Shoji as well maybe. Based on his file. 

 

He made a mental note to re-read all the files.

 

He looked back at Hizashi but he looking in Jiro’s direction. He’d have to ask why later, Mic was somewhat closer to the teenager than he was. 

Midoryia rose a hand. 

 

“There’s got to be something we can do to help!” he cried, a hero-like voice of confidence. 

 

“What did you do to get over it?” Jiro asked Aizawa, the class staring at their homeroom teacher, waiting on him to provide the answer. 

 

The impossible question. 

 

“Well, I…” Aizawa started. He noticed Hizashi give him a look.

 

“When he was bad,” his best friend interrupted. “I used to tell him. Memories are fiction.”

 

“Best piece of advice I’ve been given on the matter.” Aizawa smiled, grateful for the takeover, leaning forward from where he was sat atop of the table. The class had relaxed slightly, the tension hanging from Todoroki’s sudden departure fizzling away. 

 

“And it’s true!” Hizashi continued enthusiastically, happy for an attentive audience. “Every single time you recall a memory it changes. Sooooo... the more you remember something the less it resembles the truth, until, in the end, you’re just getting scared over a story.” 

 

Iida raised his hand immediately, speaking before permission. 

 

“I understand your way of thinking.” he said respectfully. “But isn’t the cause of the PTSD still the same, whether it’s the truth or simply based off of truth.”

 

“Can you even get PTSD off of movies and fiction and shit?” Sero asked, immediately going a shade of pink. “Ah sorry... I didn’t mean to swear.”

 

Aizawa waved it off, received that his class was discussing the topic. 

 

It felt weird. They were discussing times he’d gone years forgetting, his personal experiences. But so casually that Aizawa could hardly recognize them as his own. That was nice. Impersonal was nice. His heart was still thudding, his eyes drifting to the door, waiting for Midnight to return. 

 

“You can.” Hizashi replied with a shrug. “A traumatic experience can come from anything. But it’s an experience. You can only have that experience once. Therefore it can be easier to deal with if you think that you can’t even properly remember what got you so scared in the first place.” 

 

“That does make sense.” Iida agreed. 

 

“So what? You would just tell yourself every time that it wasn’t real?” Ashido asked, her eyes planted firmly on her homeroom teacher. 

 

Aizawa smiled slightly. His class had just seen Todoroki run out of class and yet somehow they were still confident asking him questions like that to his face. 

 

He was double their age, but man, Aizawa did not feel like it when it came to feelings. That was the true meaning of ‘being an adult’ he guessed. These kids just assumed he has his shit together. 

 

It was kind of nice. 

 

“It would help me out.” Aizawa replied. “When you have a PTSD attack or experience symptoms, the rational side of your brain can sometimes seem to disappear. By thinking rational thoughts it’s easier to gain control over your emotional state. It’s not a cure though.”

 

There was a moment of silence as Aizawa watched Class 1A slump once more, but this time from realisation.  

 

“There are no cures.” Hizashi echoed. “Just coping mechanisms.”

 

“So, you can never fully recover?” Yaoyorozu asked, her brow furrowed. 

 

Aizawa couldn’t figure out whether she was more worried for herself or Todoroki. 

 

“Kind of…” he replied. “Most of the long term effects come from experiencing the same situation again and not knowing how to cope. Your body will want to pull you back into fight or flight mode much quicker than the first time. It’s how you combat that initial fear and how quickly you can gain control over your mental state.” 

 

Show not tell

 

“Man, that’s so complicated!” Sero cried. 

 

“I agree. But it’s mind over matter, am I right?” Tokoyami replied slowly.

 

“But just on a more mentally detrimental level than telling yourself you don’t need an extra biscuit.” Jiro scoffed in reply. 

 

“Do all heroes get PTSD?” Asui asked the two teachers. 

 

“No, of course not.” Aizawa replied. “But most experience some of the symptoms at least once. It really depends on the circumstance. But here at UA, you’ve already experienced far more than you should have done for your age.”

 

“Take comfort that you have each other!” Hizashi grinned, latching an arm around Aizawa. “Taking about this kind of stuff is invaluable.”

 

“I’ve never talked about stuff.” Shoji argued. 

 

“I agree, it’s a novelty for Japan.” Aizawa smirked. “Western countries are a lot more clued up.” 

 

Midnight walked back in the classroom as a few hands went up in response to Aizawa’s offhand comment. Their attention was taken, however, as she gave a small smile to Aizawa and Hizashi. She jumped up on the table, scooting beside her best friends. 

 

“He’s fine.” she whispered, a hand covering her mouth. “I sent him back to dorms after he refused to talk. He said he’d come back for hero class.” 

 

Aizawa nodded stiffly but said nothing about the matter. 

 

“We were talking about how things like ‘this’ are talked about in western countries a lot more than they are here.” he replied instead. 

 

“Oh right, yeah Japan is...” 

 

Midnight laughed instead of finishing the end of her sentence. 

 

“They see stuff like this as ‘bad’.” Shoji said. “Right?”

 

“Not everyone.” Aizawa was quick to interrupt. “And not those who have an ounce of common sense.”

 

“There are helplines though.” Sero offered. “I think.”

 

“There are, but you will always have UA.” Aizawa replied. “Your tuition may stop when you graduate, but this school is always here to support you through your careers.”

 

“Or drag you back and make you teach for them.” Mic grinned, causing a few laughs from the class. 

 

“I think that’s nice though.” Midnight smiled. “You’re right Shoji, a normal job would probably not accept an employee with a mental health illness. But becoming a hero is something different. And things are getting better. With more villain attacks, more mental health issues are having to be addressed. Japan is adapting.”

 

“The world is adapting.” Aizawa stated. “And so must you. Like Midnight said, an increased risk of mental illness is a side effect of the job. You must remember what you’re becoming a hero for. Keep yourself grounded.”

 

“Grounding is key!” Midnight echoed.

 

“Grounding? Is that another technique?” Uraraka asked. 

 

“It’s my favourite technique!” Midnight grinned. “Oh! I can make this interactive!”

 

She looked around the room, the original sparkle in her eye returning as her gaze landed on. 

 

“Hagakure!” 

 

The invisible girl stood immediately. 

 

“Name me five things you can see.”

 

The girl paused for a moment, hesitating. The folds of her uniform twisting slightly as she turned to look around the room. 

 

“It’s not a trick question.” Midnight smiled. 

 

“Okay... well. You. The board. Aizawa’s sleeping bag,”

 

There were a few giggles for that one. 

 

“My pen and... Bakugou.” 

 

“How can you see me?!” Bakugou cried. “I’m behind you!” 

 

“I can look behind me y’know.” Hagakure replied. 

 

“Yeah? Well, I can fucking look through you.” Bakugou snapped back. 

 

“Bakugou!” Midnight cried. “Stand up! Four things you can feel. Go!” 

 

Bakugou got up reluctantly and sighed. 

 

“The breath on my lips...” he answered. Sero and Kaminari began giggling beside him, but Aizawa glared, shutting them up instantly. “My fucking palms stinging.” Bakugou continued, nitroglycerin sparking from his palms. “An itch on my foot and Hagakure staring at me.” 

 

“Awh! You noticed me!” Hagakure cried. 

 

“Close enough!” Midnight called. “Tokoyami!” 

 

“Three things I can hear. Don’t worry I’ve done this before.” the teenager replied, standing. “The lights buzzing, Kaminari’s pencil because he’s doodling and Dark Shadow.”

 

“Dark Shadow?” Midnight asked, the quirk not having presented itself in class yet. 

 

“He’s constantly in my head.” Tokoyami replied seriously. 

 

“Right...” Midnight drawled. “Mineta!”

 

“Anything. For you.” 

 

“Ermm two things you can smell then!” she cried, giving the student a thumbs up. 

 

“Sweat and perfume...” Mineta replied. 

 

“Dude.” Kaminari hissed. “Get. A. Grip.”

 

“It’s a valid answer!” Midnight cried, looking around the room for one last person. “Shoji! One thing you can taste!” 

 

Shoji rose happily and activated his quirk. He produced a mouth from one of his arms and twisted it around to the seat next to him. 

 

Mineta didn’t quite clock what was happening in time for Shoji’s new mouth to clamp down on his head. Hard. 

 

“Mineta.” he replied, pulling the arm back in towards him, Mineta howling loudly beside him. 

 

“You’re such a bully!” 

 

Aizawa didn’t try and tell either boy off. It wasn’t worth the effort. 

 

“Tokoyami! You seemed to know what to do! Can you explain to your class?” Midnight called, ignoring the two. Tokoyami stood up reluctantly but spoke with ease.

 

“It’s grounding.” he stated. “You bring yourself into the present by noticing your surroundings. I used to have to do it when I was younger to train Dark Shadow.”

 

“Correct!” Midnight smiled. “When you suffer from something like a PTSD or an anxiety attack, your mind often runs away with you. Grounding yourself brings you back to reality.”

 

Class 1A nodded slowly. Aizawa eyed Tokoyami up as he sat down, mentally making a note to look at his file. 

 

The bell rang, signifying the end of the second period. 

 

“Take the next period as a break.” Aizawa was quick to call out to the class. “Stay in here. Midnight and Mic will be here to assist if you have any questions, hero class will go ahead as planned.”

 

“Thank you Aizawa-Sensei!” Iida cried, standing in his place. “For telling that story…”

 

“I guess we really got storytime in the end..!” Uraraka smiled softly. 

 

“Yes thank you Sensei!” Kirishima called. 

 

“Thank you!” Jiro chimed

 

“It was really helpful!” Sero grinned, thumbs up.

 

“And heroic!” Midroyia added.

 

Aizawa felt himself blink a little faster. 

 

“Well done for this morning.” he replied earnestly. “It was difficult, I know, but learn these techniques now and you’ll be better prepared for the future.”

 

“Yes Sensei.” the class called back, a moment passing before Kirishima was up on his feet, wondering over to Bakugou’s desk.

 

“The fuck do you want?” Bakugou asked without even looking up. 

 

“A pen.” Kirishima replied sheepishly. “Your ‘warming-it-up’ thing didn’t work, it’s run out again.”

 

“You didn’t use it properly.” Bakugou spat in reply. “Here, take mine.”

 

“Thanks dude!” Kirishima grinned, turning away. “Hey, Midnight, can I take down that grounding thing you did again?”

 

And the class returned to normal.

 

“I’m going to see to Todoroki.” Aizawa whispered to Hizashi, the man nodding with a smile as 1A erupted into chatter. 

 

He left swiftly, shutting the door soundly as he stepped outside. He paused for a moment, leaning up again the doorframe and staring out of the window on the far side of the corridor. 

 

His heart was still thudding in his chest, his palms sweaty, lightheaded. All of his usual symptoms but… He was worried about Todoroki, relieved that the lesson went to plan, grateful for his best friends… He wasn’t panicking about retelling a story that had plagued his nightmares for years. 

 

There had already been other times, far scarier than the one he recounted that his mind could focus on. He had nightmares about new incidents, different situations. Life didn’t get easier. And now Todoroki...

 

But Aizawa just told a story that used to make him sick to tell. In front of a class. In front of his best friends. And he was okay. He was okay… For that moment he just felt…

 

Invincible. 

 

 

Notes:

I left the end kinda open for the Todoroki chat - I can do a part two, I'm up for that but it's whether there'd be the interest for it :)

Love and hugs in the comments for y'all xxx

Chapter 28: The Boy in the Laundry Room

Summary:

Aizawa pulled the door to the laundry room ajar slightly, the whirring of washing machines filling the silence.

The whirring of washing machines and the small sniffs of a teenage boy.

Notes:

Happy Friday to you all! It's seventeen degrees here in England which is the equivalent of really damn warm for us so I'm basking in the evening sunshine!

Just a note to say that this fic nearly has 300 subs, with the last 40 odd being in the last week alone..! How are you all finding me???! I'm so so grateful for every one of you x

Finally, there's a content WARNING on this chapter, there are GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF A PTSD ATTACK so please, please, please beware.

With that, enjoy! x

Aizawa near-ran from homeroom to dorms. 

 

It was a five minute walk at most, but Aizawa could feel the seconds tauntingly ticking by as he struggled not to run towards the entrance of Height Alliance. 

 

Todoroki would be fine. If Nemuri suspected anything bad, she wouldn’t have let the boy go back to dorms in the first place. Aizawa knew that. 

 

Yet he also knew Todoroki was a good liar. Good at not showing emotion in the worst possible way. 

 

He pressed the button to call the lift once, twice, before opting for the stairs, his legs twitching in anticipation and worry. 

 

Todoroki would be fine. 

 

As Aizawa hit the second floor, he paused for a second before turning into the corridor, walking swiftly towards the common area. He listened out for any clues, any sounds that could indicate that the teen was there but… nothing. 

 

He turned into the room, calling out all the same.

 

“Todoroki?”

 

The question was met by silence, Aizawa’s voice filling the empty common area. 

 

Not that he’d expected the teen to be there, but as he leaned against one sofa to momentarily catch his breath, he noticed the boy’s bag strewn across the floor. 

 

At least Todoroki was inside UA. His lanyard was clasped onto the zip of his bag. 

 

Aizawa picked the backpack up, the content falling out of the unzipped top. Workbooks and various pens clattered to the floor, Aizawa cursing under his breath.

 

As he lent down to hastily pick them up, a sheet slipped out of Todoroki’s English book. 

 

The same sheet he’d been drawing on in homeroom. 

 

The sketches started off neat. A squiggly line type of pattern, a few half-arsed flowers and a stick figure that looked suspiciously like Midoryia. But after that the pencil lines got darker, morphing into shadings and angry scribbles before finally cutting into the page. 

 

Aizawa stared at it, as if to look for clues, before catching himself. He placed it back into the textbook and stuffed it back into the bag. 

 

He would try the teen’s room next. Todoroki’s bag hung uncharacteristically over one shoulder. 

 

He couldn’t hear anything on approach but that didn’t mean anything when it came to Todoroki. The boy was the silent type.

 

“Todoroki?” he called, rapping lightly on the door. 

 

No response. 

 

“Todoroki.” he repeated, firmly this time. “Can you open the door please?” 

 

Aizawa waited, eyes screwed, but still nothing.

 

“Open the door Todoroki. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

 

Aizawa found himself holding his breath this time, one ear against the door. 

 

He waited. 

 

One second. 

 

Two seconds. 

 

Three secon-

 

“Torodoki I’m opening this door.” he called, reaching for the handle. 

 

He didn’t want to startle the teenager so he pressed down silently. There was a good chance Todoroki was asleep. 

 

Aizawa’s hand was met with resistance. 

 

The door was locked. 

 

Aizawa’s nose flared as he reached down for his keychain. Now he had no idea where Todoroki could have gotten to and that only served to make his heart rate rise. In his state? He just didn’t want the boy to have wandered off.

 

His hands fumbled with the master key, unlocking the door after the third try. 

 

Todoroki’s room was bare, a cup of coffee still half-drunk on the side. 

 

It didn’t look like the boy had been here since this morning.

 

Okay. So. 

 

So… 

 

Todoroki had been in dorms but not into his room. 

 

There was only one other place Aizawa could think that he would go. 

 

And if not, then he would call for backup. 

 

— 

 

The first floor of dorms were predominately Aizawa’s living quarters. His room was about double the size of his students, it took up most of the floor, but it wasn’t the only room on that level. Across from Aizawa’s room were the laundry rooms. 

 

Hardly anyone came down there, Aizawa included. He preferred being around people, even though he wasn’t one for interaction. 

 

He did, however, often find the odd sock littered in the corridor, catching a few students having ‘secret meetings’ once in a while, disturbing his naps. 

 

Not often though. It was a quiet place. Secluded. 

 

Aizawa pulled the door to the laundry room ajar slightly, the whirring of washing machines filling the silence. 

 

The whirring of washing machines and the small sniffs of a teenage boy. 

 

Todoroki was okay.

 

Aizawa breathed a sigh of relief for the first time that day and, as silently as he could, made his way over to the corner of the room. 

 

“Todoroki?” he asked softly.

 

The boy was crouched in the gap between one of the washing machines and the wall, knees up to his chest and head covered by his hands. 

 

As Aizawa crouched down in front of him he noted the boys erratic breathing. Todoroki’s shoulders rising and falling out of sync, the rest of him was trembling.

 

“Todoroki.” Aizawa repeated, louder. “Do you know where you are?” 

 

For a moment the boy stopped shaking, finally hearing his teachers voice. His fingers curled up around his eyes turning his knuckles white as he let out a pained breath. 

 

“You’re safe.” Aizawa continued. “You’re in UA.”

 

“It doesn’t matter where I am.”

 

Aizawa was taken aback by the boy's sudden speech. Todoroki’s voice sounded normal. Low and cold, masking emotion. It was a frightening contrast to the rest of his demeanour. 

 

“What do you mean?” Aizawa asked, placing a hand on his student's shoulder. 

 

As soon as he did, Todoroki recoiled, his head jerking up so fast that it hit the wall behind him with a crack. He jumped up, crouching forwards, his hands reaching out for Aizawa’s face, fingers ready to grasp, snatch, claw.

 

“Woah, easy. It’s me.” Aizawa tried, attempting to keep the grip on the boy firm. “It’s Aizawa. You’re okay. Todoroki, you’re okay.” 

 

Aizawa pulled the rest of his torso out of Todoroki’s reach but continued to place both hands on the teens shoulders, pulling him forward slightly. Todoroki’s eyes searched his own erratically, glazed over, brow furrowed. 

 

“I’m not okay.”

 

Todoroki backed down in a kneeling position, his hands returning to his face. 

 

“Todoroki-“ Aizawa started. 

 

“I’m fucked.” the teenager continued, his voice cracking, desperate. “I’m fucked in the head... I can’t, I won’t…” 

 

Todoroki placed one hand in front up him, palm up, staring at it for a second before curling it into a fist and bringing it down across the left side of his head. Hard. 

 

“I’m not going to be okay.” he repeated, his hand rising. “I’m fucked. I’m fucked in the head. Fucked, fucked, fucked, fucked, fuck-“

 

Over and over Aizawa watched his student slam his fist across his left temple as he urgently tried to grapple for Todoroki’s arm. 

 

“Todoroki stop it!” he commanded through his teeth, Todoroki’s arm slipping out of his grasp. “STOP IT!”

 

Aizawa finally caught onto the boy's wrist, using his upper body strength to pull the boy forward and onto his knees. Todoroki was still in a different world, crying out and pulling away from his homeroom teacher. 

 

“STAY AWAY!” he bellowed, pushing Aizawa away with his spare hand. “I’M FUcked in the… fucked in the head… I’m… I’m…”

 

Aizawa caught Todoroki’s other wrist lightly as the boy fell limp against him, crumpling to the floor. Aizawa pulled him firmly forward as Todoroki screamed out, his hands curling again. 

 

“Hey. Hey.” Aizawa spoke between Todoroki’s cries, lifting his head up to tuck the sobbing boy under his chin. “Stop it.”

 

He let Todoroki hit his chest out of frustration, reaching out to grab the boys hand when he went to claw at the left side of his face. 

 

Aizawa’s other arm was firmly gripped around his student's torso, not a hug, Aizawa didn't hug but... something. Something encouraging him to breathe. 

 

“You’re safe. You’re in UA. It’s Aizawa and I’ve got you. I’ve got you safe Todoroki.”

 

As he repeated what Hizashi used to repeat to him, he plastered the teenager's hair against the left side of his face, covering it to prevent the boy from doing himself more harm. Aizawa had to remind himself to breathe as well, his jaw clenched as Todoroki’s fist continued to come down on his hand, attempting to hurt himself further. 

 

Todoroki was reminding him of… his past.

 

But Todoroki was too young. Sixteen with the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. 

 

Aizawa’s thoughts were interrupted, Todoroki’s breathing picking up again. The boy pushed himself away from his teacher's chest, the colour draining from his face. 

 

“I’m going to be sick.” he stated, pulling himself to one side, hunched over Aizawa’s arm his breathing quickening. 

 

“It’s okay.” Aizawa soothed, propping himself up onto his knees to rub Todoroki’s back.

 

The boy heaved but nothing came up, a thin line of saliva trailing to the floor as Todoroki took to whimpering. Aizawa gingerly moved his hand back to the student's shoulder. 

 

“You’re okay.” he repeated. It took the boy a second, but eventually, he nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and sitting up. 

 

Todoroki’s hair was askew, red scratches lining the left side of his face, his eyes bloodshot, eyelids heavy. He didn’t seem to even notice, let alone care as his homeroom teacher helped him to lean against the wall. 

 

“I’m sorry.” he croaked. 

 

“Shhh.” Aizawa replied, covering Todoroki’s, now limp, hands with his own. 

 

The two continued to stay silent for at least ten minutes. In the end, once he was confident Todoroki wasn’t going to self-harm again, Aizawa took to leaning against the wall beside the boy. He flexed his hands, unpicking the dirt from underneath his nails, anything to distract him from the silence. 

 

Silence usually suited the man, but in this situation, he felt uncharacteristically awkward. 

 

Todoroki was unmoving beside him, his breathing even but soft, pausing everyone in a while to sigh unevenly. 

 

He didn’t seem to mind that his homeroom teacher was sat beside him. 

 

Good. 

 

Because Aizawa wasn’t leaving.

 

Eventually, after what seemed like a lifetime, Todoroki took a breath, stopping for a moment before;

 

“You’ve got my file.”

 

Aizawa looked across to the teenager but Todoroki’s eyes were staring ahead of him, fixed. His voice metered but soft, tired. 

 

“I do.” Aizawa replied unsurely. 

 

“Then you know what happened.” Todoroki said. 

 

“I know what your father said had happened.” Aizawa corrected him. 

 

Todoroki hummed at that. Or it could have been a scoff. Aizawa wasn’t sure. 

 

“What did he put?” Todoroki asked quietly. 

 

“Well…” 

 

Aizawa paused for a moment, trying to decide what to say. He knew what Todoroki was getting at but... The boy's file was heavy, but it was also medical. Blunt. There was no nice way to put any of what had happened in the boys past. 

 

“He put what your mother did to you and that your brother went missing.” Aizawa started, keeping his answer vague. 

 

“What did my mother do?” Todoroki asked. Pointedly. 

 

Aizawa sighed. 

 

“Todoroki…”

 

“What did he put down that she’d done?” Todoroki repeated, determination etched into his tone. 

 

“She poured boiling water onto your left eye.” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Why?” 

 

Aizawa turned his head away, one hand going to scrape the hair back off of his face. He really did not want to be having this conversation. 

 

“It doesn’t say.” he replied.

 

Todoroki remained determined.

 

“It must say something.”

 

“Postnatal depression, I think.” Aizawa resigned. “I think that’s what they put it down to.”

 

“But you don’t believe that.” Todoroki replied pointing out in front of him. 

 

“It’s not my place to speculate about my students.” Aizawa stated.

 

Todoroki didn’t reply to that and Aizawa took that as the end of the conversation. The floor the two were sat on was hard and cold, Aizawa already feeling his legs numb. 

 

The boy seemed to be over the worst of his attack, Aizawa could try and coax him back upstairs, to somewhere warmer. After that, he had no idea but maybe-

 

“She… can’t know.” Todoroki spoke suddenly, his voice low, head bowing into his chest. “If I have PTSD then… she can’t know. I’ve caused her enough pain.”

 

“Todoroki…” 

 

Aizawa was quick to pull himself up onto his knees, twisting round to place his hands onto the teen's shoulders once more. Just in case. 

 

“Postnatal depression isn’t something that you could have done anything about-“

 

“That’s not… what was wrong.” Todoroki interrupted Aizawa, looking up at his homeroom teacher, his eyes brimmed with tears. “My dad lied.”

 

Aizawa scanned Todoroki’s expression. The boy seemed desperate, his eyes wide, a thin sheen of sweat covering his left side. 

 

Aizawa kept silent. Worried that interrupting him now would lose him the one chance he had of Todoroki opening up to him. 

 

He would wait all day if he had to.

 

“My dad tortured her.” Todoroki finally said, his voice hitching. “Because she was protecting me. Stopping him from training me. Because I asked her to. She went insane because she was living in hell.”

 

 Aizawa could feel the blood begin to boil in his veins. 

 

“Tortured?”

 

“You don’t believe me.” Todoroki accused. “Why would you?” 

 

“That’s not it.” Aizawa replied. “Todoroki what you’re saying is serious.”

 

Todoroki wasn’t a liar. 

 

“He chose her to marry so they could make me.” Todoroki spat. “He didn’t care about her. He...”

 

Todoroki paused for a second to lift his hands up to his face. Aizawa’s hands rose as well, just in case, but the boy continued to simply rub at his eyes, composing himself. 

 

“He wouldn’t let her go out, she couldn’t socialize.” Todoroki continued. “Trying to protect me was the only thing she had left.”

 

Aizawa felt his own head bow in front of his student, blinking rapidly so as to stop the tears that were forming in his eyes. He cast his mind back to the times Todoroki had been allowed to return home through permission of his father, taken away from UA, interning with him. 

 

And that entire time… He’d worked alongside Endeavour, gone to events with him, accepted him as the new number one hero.

 

Whilst his son was on the floor of the laundry room, distressed and tormented by his childhood. His childhood under the man who was deemed the replacement of All Might. 

 

“If she knew I had PTSD… It would take the only thing she had control over, away.” 

 

“That won’t happen.” Aizawa replied quickly, tilting his head up to catch Todoroki’s eye line. “Remember things are different now Todoroki. You see her regularly, you’re a stronger person and you’re dad has other priorities. He’s…”

 

Aizawa had to force the end of the sentence out. For Todoroki’s sake;

 

“He’s trying to change…”

 

Todoroki inhaled steeply.

 

“I don’t want to lose her again.” He admitted, the whine creeping back into his voice. “I miss her. I miss my mum…”

 

“No one has to know.” Aizawa replied steadily. “No one Todoroki, you hear me?”

 

Todoroki nodded, letting his tears drip to the ground as Aizawa fumbled around his pockets for a tissue. 

 

He was a bit useless in these situations. Cold facts and rational thinking weren’t always good enough for the emotions. He relied on Hizashi and Nemuri for the comforting.

 

But they weren’t here now and Todoroki had confided in him… He would be making the biggest mistake of this boys future if he fucked this up now.

 

“Midoryia knows.” Todoroki stated as he took the dregs of tissue from his homeroom teacher. “I told him at the sports festival.”

 

That took Aizawa by surprise. He didn’t think either of the two students were particularly close until after the internships. 

 

“You did?” he asked before thinking. 

 

“I don’t know why exactly.” Todoroki replied. “Midoriya has… one of those faces.

 

Aizawa scoffed at that, the green-haired boy’s doe-eyed expression popping into his head. 

 

“Don’t laugh…” Todoroki muttered.

 

“No, I’m- I’m not laughing at you.” Aizawa replied. “I can just imagine the face.”

 

Todoroki blew air out of his nose, his lips curling slightly as he looked towards the floor once more.

 

The washing machine beeped from behind them.

 

“Washing’s done.” Aizawa commented, Todoroki looking up. There was a pause, Aizawa shifting slightly to allow feeling back into his legs. “If you help me put it into the tumble drier, do you feel up for getting out of here?”

 

Todoroki nodded and Aizawa released the hand from his shoulder once more, leaning back to stand. 

 

“Don’t you have hero class to teach?” Todoroki asked as Aizawa stood, brushing his pants down and stretching slightly. 

 

“Ectoplasm is covering for me.” he replied.

 

“Is that because you thought you might need a break after this morning?” Todoroki asked, the normal lack of tact returning to his speech. 

 

“Yes.” Aizawa replied honestly, reaching across for the laundry basket.

 

He beckoned across and Todoroki hopped up, walking across to help Aizawa open the washing machine door and begin to pile wet clothing into the basket. 

 

“This has to be Aoyama’s.” he grunted, pulling up a silver pair of hot pants.

 

“Or Bakugou’s.” Todoroki replied,

 

Aizawa looked across at the teenager, taking a moment before realising that he was joking. He let out a low laugh, reaching across to ruffle Todoroki’s hair.

 

“That’s a good point.” he reminded himself. “Let’s check your head out. You hit yourself quite hard.”

 

“Did I?” Todoroki asked, turning all the same, Aizawa feeling around the temple area gingerly. 

 

“Just a lump.” he concluded. “You should probably still go and see Recovery Girl however.”

 

Todoroki hummed slightly but continued placing laundry into the basket.

 

“I didn’t use my quirk.” he said quietly, Aizawa just managing to make out what he was saying as he shut the washing machine door close. 

 

“You didn’t.” he confirmed. 

 

Todoroki smiled properly at that, taking the laundry basket and making his way over to the tumble dryers. 

 

“Whenever something like that happens… I always activate my quirk. On accident.” he stated. 

 

Aizawa’s mind went to the times when Todoroki had woken him up in the middle of the night, his quirk out of control, interrupting his sleep…

 

“Todoroki, are you talking about your nightmares?” Aizawa asked. 

 

Todoroki froze momentarily. 

 

“Or do you mean to say that your ’nightmares’ are more like PTSD attacks?”

 

“What setting does this need to be on?” Todoroki asked, pointing to the dryer. 

 

Aizawa sighed but didn’t press the boy. Enough for one day. 

 

“The second one.” he replied instead, bracing himself for his next sentence. “Todoroki as your homeroom teacher it’s my job to ensure that you’re cared for whilst you’re at UA.”

 

Todoroki continued opening the dryer door. 

 

“And in light of that, I’m going to enrol you into therapy here at UA, okay? It’s confidential, most of the student go once they get into third year anyway, and it wouldn’t have to go on record the exact reaso-“

 

“Okay.”

 

Todoroki interrupted Aizawa’s ramble quickly, the look on his face one of… 

 

Aizawa only hoped to think it but, relief.

 

“Okay.” Aizawa repeated, watching Todoroki’s posture relax for the first time. “But you not using your quirk is a good sign.” Aizawa replied. “It’s small steps.”

 

“It helped… Knowing you’d been through the same thing.” Todoroki said softly, his back towards Aizawa as he piled the washing into the dryer. 

 

That was a good thing in hindsight. Todoroki didn’t catch Aizawa biting down on his bottom lip as it threatened to shake. 

 

“Then it was worth it.” Aizawa replied. Todoroki turned back to look at his homeroom teacher, confused. “Neither of us can change what happened.” he explained. “But if we can make something good out of it then we should.”

 

Todoroki looked away, closing the tumble dryer slowly, thinking.

 

“I want to go back to class.” he finally stated. 

 

“Only if you feel up to it.” Aizawa nodded. “But first Recovery Girl.”

 

Todoroki nodded, picking up his backpack.

 

“And lunch.” Aizawa added as the two made their way out of the room. “Did you have a proper breakfast this morning?”

 

“You’re not my parent.” Todoroki muttered as if to prove to his homeroom teacher that he was okay now.

 

“Then why am I reminding you how to look after yourself?” Aizawa quipped lightly. 

 

Luckily, Todoroki snorted at that, Aizawa reaching for his phone and quickly typing out a message. 

 

To Nezu

 

Can I book in a meeting with yourself and Endeavour?

At his earliest convenience please. 

 

Aizawa.

 

Right then…

Notes:

Again these are from my rather personal experiences so again please DO NOT compare! Everyone has different experiences and different ways of dealing with these sort of issues. However, the most important thing is that if you have suffered from such you are not alone, for one you have me if you need (it comes with the subscription haha). I jest but seriously if ever you need a friendly dadzawa esq chat

And before you ask, yes Endeavor will get an ass-whooping shortly! It's a highly requested prompt ;)

Chapter 29: Guest Chapter - Confined Space Rescue for Heroes pt1

Summary:

“Sir? She’s waking up.”

Aizawa was instantly alert.

Of course, he hadn’t slept a wink in that waiting room. Not while Hagakure was hurt.

--

Guest chapter by Purplemalemute !!!

Notes:

AHHHHHH IM SO SORRY THIS IS AN ENTIRE DAY LATE HAHA PLEASE FORGIVE ME !!!

My excuses are timezones and auditions. In fact, I'm still in a recording studio. Like right now as I post this chapter. Seven audition later and four hours of sleep.

Please give Purplemalemute all your love in the comments, I'm 100% sure they'll reply - also seeing as this turned into a two-parter you'll most likely get two chapters next week.
You lucky sods.

Thank you once again for your continued support whilst I take my week off. It's been the right week to take haha. I'm S.H.A.T.T.E.R.E.D.

“Sir? She’s waking up.”

 

Aizawa was instantly alert.

 

Pro heroes rarely got much sleep, and teachers got even less. Doing both was nothing short of madness, as his family was very fond of reminding him. He didn’t care. Every moment that he slept was a moment that a villain could be attacking, or a student getting into trouble. He had better things to be doing than being dead to the world.

 

Granted, he had to sleep sometime. Usually this was after a mission, or as soon as he was reasonably sure his class wouldn’t destroy the room for five minutes. This was less often than he would’ve liked, but he’d had to replace five fewer desks this semester than last. They were improving.

 

Of course, he hadn’t slept a wink in that waiting room. Not while Hagakure was hurt.

 

Aizawa stood gruffly, accidentally slamming the chair into the wall behind him. The young nurse flinched, obviously not quite used to dealing with worried relatives yet.

 

Then Aizawa caught himself. He wasn’t Hagakure’s relative. He was her teacher.

 

There was a difference.

 

It wasn’t the same.

 

At least that’s what he told himself as he followed the nurse to her bedside.

 

 

——————————————

 

 

The training course was Confined Space Rescue for Heroes.

 

The class was a one week hero course, intended only for third years who had demonstrated good rescue skills and a desire to learn more about how to help those in unusually dangerous situations. Ones that most heroes wouldn’t even try.

 

Naturally, as soon as IIda and Midoriya learned of it, they begged Aizawa for permission to take the course. Aizawa, naturally, had shot them down.

 

The course was expensive, given the number of specialized heroes needed for safety, and they’d need a minimum of ten students to justify setting up the practical exam. Besides, it was for far more experienced students than first years. He’d told the boys to stop wasting his time and get back to studying.

 

The next morning, he’d found a filled out sign up sheet for the course. Most of the classes names were on it.

 

He’d thrown it to the bottom of his paperwork pile. They’d either forget about it in two days, or get over it. Not anything he felt compelled to act on.

 

In class the next day, the entire class seemed on edge. Excited. Waiting to hear the big news.

 

Aizawa just gave the usual lesson and went to sleep. They were better behaved when they thought they might be rewarded for good behavior. It let him get more sleep.

 

Their disappointment when he dismissed them was palatable, and more than a few tried to ask him something. He fixed them with his trademark glare and left the room.

 

They’d forget about it in a few days.

 

The next morning, a larger group of students, Bakugou’s… “squad”, if he was correct, decided to corner him in the hallway.

 

“What do you want?…” Aizawa growled, dragging his hand across his face. He had twenty tests to grade, and was only expecting four hours of sleep before his nighttime patrol. His tolerate for petty crap was lower than usual.

 

“We’re here to get our study books for the tiny rescue course Sensei!” Ashido cried, beaming as if studying was her favorite thing in the world.

 

Aizawa groaned.

 

“It’s the Confined Space Rescue course, and you’re not getting any. No one’s taking the course.”

 

Funny. They all seemed genuinely surprised.

 

“What?! Why the hell not?! We all filled out the sign up forum and dealt with Engine-Ass double checking our shit, why the hell aren’t we taking it?!”

 

“Yeah! He even made me practice in my notebook so I didn’t screw up any of my personal info!” Kirishima added, pushing past Bakugo. (and earning a fist in his ribs for it)

 

“You’re not supposed to tell him that dude…” Sero muttered, covering his eyes in embarrassment.

 

Aizawa’s expression didn’t change.

 

“None of you are ready.”

 

Bakugou’s eyes nearly popped out as he stepped menacingly close to his teacher.

 

“The hell does that mean? We’re the toughest damn students in this school!”

 

Aizawa looked down at the boy with red in his eyes.

 

“Really? Is that why Mirio was able to take out your entire class without getting hit once?”

 

Bakugou growled and seethed, but backed down.

 

“In any case, the fact that you’re talking about readiness in terms of fighting proves to me even more than you aren’t ready for this course.”

 

“What? That’s not what he meant!” Ashido protested.

 

“Yeah! He means we’re tough enough to meet any challenge!” Kaminari added, punching his fist in the air.

 

“We’re gonna be the best heroes in the world, and that means acing this course too!” Sero cried, slipping into a hero pose next to his friends,

 

Aizawa shook his head. To think that his students would be berating him for not giving them enough work… Wait.

 

“You know what?” He threw up his hands, and fixed them with one of his evil smiles. “Fine. If everyone gets at least a 75 on the next quiz; and there are no disruptions in my class, I’ll consider getting the course set up.”

 

All of them went white. Aizawa found this immensely satisfying.

 

“75?! But that’s so high!” Ashido squeaked.

 

Aizawa turned back towards his room with a cheeky grin.

 

“Then you’d best get studying.”

 

Then he walked off, leaving the kids panicking behind him.

 

That oughta put a damper on things.

 

 

—————————————

 

 

Aizawa seethed in his teacher’s podium. This shouldn’t have happened.

 

It wasn’t supposed to be this way!

 

The classroom was quiet. Too quiet. His students, usually so chaotic, sat shifting anxiously in their seats, waiting on their grades.

 

Every one. Every single one of them had scored at least a 75. Even Ashido and Kaminari. Truth be told, he’d hadn’t truly expected his lowest-scoring students to do so well. He’d chosen 75 specially because they’d never managed to score that high in their time at UA.

 

He’d expected them to fail. But seeing them succeed, he couldn’t decide if he was proud or furious.

 

Not only that, but the class had been exceptionally well-behaved that week. Dark Shadow had stayed within Tokoyami, Bagokou had kept his swearing to middle-school levels, and not one fight had broken out.

 

Mineta hadn’t even made a lewd comment for the whole week.

 

Aizawa stopped the boy after class once, running a full interrogation about his history at UA. Just to make sure that someone hadn’t kidnapped the little pervert and replaced him.

 

They hadn’t. Mineta had successfully controlled his hormonal urges. He and the rest of the class had behaved.

 

“Why? Why do you guys even want to take this course?!” Aizawa growled.

 

There was a pause. Almost as if the kids were wondering themselves.

 

“Because we want to save people that others can’t.” IIda started, embodying his role as class representative.

 

“And develop new moves!” Uraraka chimed in, her fist pumped in the air.

 

“Become the best of the best!” Kirishima agreed with a grin.

 

The energy was infectious.

 

“Because I’m going to be the number one hero!”

 

“Bakugou!” Iida cried. 

 

“Because if the League attacks us again, we want to be ready!” Jiro called.

 

“And we can’t be ready unless we push ourselves to our very limits!” Sero added.

 

“Hell yeah!” Ashido agreed.

 

“Because we’re students of U.A.! PLUS ULTRA!” They cried together.

 

The valiant cry echoed around the room. The energy shook the walls in a way that would make Present Mic proud. They sounded unstoppable.

 

AIzawa hung his head. Damn these kids. 

 

“You guys know this won’t be glamorous or exhilarating? The only thing this course is designed to do is to give you the tools you need to save lives in extremely dangerous environments.”

 

The entire class nodded as one, grins never leaving their faces. They must’ve practiced that.

 

He sighed in defeat.

 

“…I’ll talk to Principal Nezu about getting the instructors scheduled to come over…”

 

The school reverberated with a joyous cheer that quickly devolved into a thousand excited conversations.

 

Aizawa grit his teeth. He hoped he wasn’t making a big mistake.

 

 

—————————————

 

 

“She’s very lucky.” the nurse offered as they walked into the room.

 

Aizawa grunted. Hagakure didn’t seem very lucky to him. Recovery Girl had healed her, but the strain had sapped so much strength from her that a coma had been a serious risk. She’d been flown to a bigger hospital in Tokyo to make sure that wouldn’t happen.

 

Her parents were on the way. Travel expenses paid for by U.A.

 

They wouldn’t get the full story of course. No one who wasn’t involved with the class would.

 

He’d make sure of that.

 

The nurse left to attend other business, leaving Aizawa with his student. For a while, he just sat. Watching over her.

 

This was happening far too often for his liking.

 

At least in the USJ attack, he’d been the one injured. Since then, it seemed only his students were getting hurt. He’d been livid when he’d heard that Asui’s ship had been attacked. the whole point of the internships was that they’d be safe under the guidance of Experienced Pros! And that infernal Forest Training session…

 

He’d stayed up for days after, endlessly pacing between his student’s rooms. Making sure no one else could harm them. He didn’t dare close his eyes until Hagakure and Jirou finally opened theirs.

 

More than anything in the world, he hated seeing his students injured. Straining them to their limit, pushing and pushing them until they cursed his name, that was one thing. Seeing their broken, helpless bodies laid out before him… well, that was one of his personal nightmares.

 

Even if he couldn’t actually see Hagakure’s body.

 

For a rare moment, Aizawa simply allowed himself to relax, and observe his surroundings.

 

Warm sunlight streamed in through the window, bathing the bed in a golden light.

 

A bird sang a chipper song, flitting about on a summer breeze.

 

A paper-thin hospital gown floated above the bed, like a little ghost.

 

The grouchy teacher’s heart seized for a moment. It had been so close… If she hadn’t thought to…

 

Then he caught himself. Hagakure was fine. She’d alerted him just in time. Their little emergency secret had worked perfectly.

 

Perhaps it was time to expand it…

 

*BANG*

 

In a heartbeat, Aizawa was on his feet. His capture weapon shot out like a viper as he struck a defensive stance, ready to defend his student to the death.

 

A man in a white outfit stumbled back, dropping the clipboard he’d been holding. Telekinesis. Just like Midoriya’s mother, if he remembered correctly. Minimal threat.

 

“Jesus man!” he shouted, scrambling back to the nearest corner. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

 

A civilian. A nurse, probably. Here to check on Hagakure. He’d banged the door.

 

Aizawa took a deep breath, willing the adrenaline away.

 

“Apologies.” Aizawa grunted, bowing slightly. 

 

Then he glared at the man. “Still, you should know better than to startle a Pro Hero.”

 

The man rubbed the back of his head with a suspicious frown. He’d jumped back so fast he’d banged his head against the cabinet on the wall.

 

“Jeez. You Heros are all the same. Assuming the world walks on water just cause the government authorized you to beat up ‘bad guys’. What the hell makes you think you’re better than us?”

 

Aizawa ground his teeth. It was one of those civilians. So entitled to the protection of heroes that they felt free to spit on their protector’s names.

 

“Well for one thing, I’d make sure that hospital patients had more than a hospital gown to be wearing.” Aizawa growled.

 

The nurse took a step back.

 

“Well I’m sorry, but we don’t exactly stock street clothes for our patients. Usually they bring their own.”

 

Aizawa bit his tongue. Hard. If he gave this man the beating he deserved, he might be thrown out. Then there would be no one to watch over Hagakure.

 

But so help him, if this nurse made one more smart comment…

 

“If you could fetch her a warm blanket, I’d be grateful.” Aizawa stated, picking up the clipboard  and turning back to his student. The pitter-patter of hasty feet receded behind him.

 

He’d deal with any formal complaints later.

 

Absentmindedly, he flipped through the pages. It was Hagakure’s medical chart. Detailing her injuries and how she was doing. Much of the meaning was buried in medical jargon, but Aizawa had long ago learned to recognize the important stuff. 

 

‘Recently healed broken leg. Exhaustion due to side effect of healing quirk. Originally rendered unconscious due to severe Carbon Monoxide poisoning. Likely to make a full recovery.’

 

Good. Good…

 

“A-aizawa-sensei?..”

 

A young voice drifted up from the hospital bed, stirring the teacher from his thoughts. The impressions on her bed grew deep as Hagakure slowly got up.

 

“What happened?”

Chapter 30: But You Have Four Children and I Have None

Summary:

In which Todoroki decides on a father figure, Aizawa ignores everyone's advice, Nezu regrets his career choice...

...oh, and Endeavor hears some hard truths.

Notes:

HEY IM BACK!!!

Posting early cause I’m at gymnastics this evening (look at me go)

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your support over the last two weeks whilst I have been doing my auditions.
(Seriously I was reading all your good luck messages over and over on the journey there)
I made it through to the final interviews and I have up to a weeks wait to hear if I have a place.
But it's OVER!!

And now Endeavor can get his comeuppance.

I hope you enjoy this chapter, I tried to take a different more realistic/canon (????) route than I've seen been done before.

“When are you meeting Endeavor again?” Midnight asked, looking up from her bento box to survey Aizawa, pacing between desks. He was flicking a pen between two fingers, his eyes misted. 

 

“Tonight. Six pm.”

 

Aizawa was taken aback slightly. It had only been a day since Nezu had sent the request to the number one hero. Endeavor had arranged the meeting at once. 

 

Aizawa had been expecting more time to work out exactly what he was going to say.

 

Naive or not, he wasn’t expecting Endeavor to take a meeting with UA that seriously. It had already been specified that it had nothing to do with Todoroki’s work, so Aizawa had severally doubted Endeavor would care. 

 

He’d been wrong.

 

“And what are you going to say exactly?” Midnight asked, purposely asking a question she knew he didn’t have an answer to. 

 

Aizawa gave her a look. 

 

“You can’t exactly rock up and bring up childhood trauma from ten years ago-“ she continued. 

 

“Eleven.”

 

“Not the point Shota.”

 

“That’s exactly the point!” Aizawa protested. “No one’s taking it seriously. No one has ever taken it seriously.”

 

“Don’t over-exaggerate.” Midnight cut in, pointing a chopstick in his direction. “That’s not true and coming out with rash statements like that in front of Enji-“

 

Aizawa hissed at Midnights choice of name.

 

“-Is going to seem as if you have a personal vendetta against him-“ 

 

“I do not-!”

 

“Are you determined to interrupt everything I say today Shota?!” Midnight cried, shoving the lid on her bento box and pushing herself away from the desk. 

 

Aizawa went back to pacing. 

 

“You didn’t see him… He was broken Midnight.”

 

“Then fix him.” Midnight replied, her voice giving nothing away. “But don’t act all high and mighty as if you’re better than Endeavor or a better father than him. Families don’t work like that.”

 

“I know.” Aizawa replied through gritted teeth. 

 

“No you don’t.” Nemuri replied, standing in her place. “Why would you have any clue?”

 

“Why would you?” Aizawa quipped.

 

Nemuri’s mouth dropped to argue back but she was interrupted by the familiar click of the staff room opened. 

 

She wouldn’t have been heard anyway.

 

“HEY HEY HEY! WHO’S DAY FINISHES AT LUNCH?! WHY THAT WOULD BE MINEEEE-“

 

Hizashi stopped mid ‘e’, pausing from the doorway, his eyes flicking between his two best friends. 

 

“Uh… Everything okay?”

 

“It’s Aizawa’s big meeting with Endeavor tonight.” Midnight drawled. “He’s working himself up about it. Getting too involved.”

 

“She’s not taking it seriously enough. Why can’t you just be on my side?!” Aizawa cried, Hizashi laughing nervously under his breath as he went to stand in the space between the two. 

 

“Hey now…” he started but his attempted was futile. 

 

“Oh listen to yourself! You sound like a child!”  Midnight interrupted, closing the gap between her and Hizashi. “I would be on your side if this is what Todoroki wanted, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t ask you to talk to his father, did he?”

 

“He’s my student.” Aizawa replied, his voice low. “It’s my call.”

 

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” Midnight scoffed, taking a step back and wondering over to the sink. “And for the record, I’m not on Endeavor’s side either. I think the way he’s brought up Todoroki is awful. But you can’t change that.”

 

“So what do I say?” Aizawa resigned, Hizashi allowing himself to take a breath, confident enough that his best friends weren’t going to go for each others throats. 

 

“I think you work out whether his relationship with Todoroki is something that Endeavor wants to try and sort out.” Midnight replied, her back towards Aizawa as she washed out her bento box. “If it isn’t, help the kid get over it, and if it is… Well, you’re just going to have to get used to it.”

 

Aizawa took a breath in but ended up saying nothing. Midnight turned on her heels, walking past the two and grabbing her back.

 

“Nemuri-“ Aizawa called after her. 

 

Midnight didn’t stop but she slowed at the doorway, giving Aizawa enough time to finish his sentence.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Don’t accuse me of not taking this seriously, it’s insulting.” she replied before the door slammed behind her.

 

Hizashi looked across at Aizawa, the man's eyebrows creased to such an extent he’d create a monobrow. 

 

“You’re pouting.” Hizashi pointed out, Aizawa turning away from the door before his best friends finger could poke his cheek. 

 

“I need coffee.” Aizawa replied, grabbing his cup from the side. 

 

“Think about it this way.” Hizashi continued, walking over to his own seat. “Both you and Enj… Endeavor are super anti-sociable.”

 

“Meaning?” Aizawa asked, the coffee machine whirring in the background. 

 

“You’ll have some understanding of how he thinks?” Hizashi replied, his voice rising as he watching his best friend grab the newly made coffee and storm towards the door. 

 

“Not helpful.” was the last thing Hizashi heard before, once again, the door slammed. 

 

“Ahhh… Yeah… I guess not.” 

 

—

 

Aizawa made his way to the office, wiping the dirt off his trousers.

 

Bakugou getting into a fight with Ashido hadn’t been the perfect way to end his last lesson. 

 

6:04pm

 

Dammit. He was going to be late. 

 

Shame, that wasn’t the reason he suspected his nerves were stemming from. 

 

Turning the corner, he could already hear voices, the clinking of teacups. No doubt Nezu was talking hero work with the pro. Any information on the league was invaluable, however egocentrically Endeavor would tell it. 

 

Aizawa paused outside the door to catch his breath for a moment. 

 

His hand rose to knock at the door. It hesitated centimetres from the frame.

 

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. 

 

He knocked before he could overthink anymore. 

 

“Come in!” Nezu called out cheerily, Aizawa pushing the door open and entering as confidently as he could muster. 

 

He had been right. Endeavor was sat opposite Nezu, tea in hand. He was animatedly talking about some sort of stupid hero alliance. 

 

Actually... Aizawa was part of that alliance. 

 

Maybe it wasn’t stupid. 

 

Still. 

 

“Take a seat.” Nezu smiled, motioning to a seat, thankfully, alongside his own on the opposite side of the desk from Aizawa. 

 

As he approached the desk, Endeavor went to stand but didn’t extend his hand. Aizawa bowed slightly and took his place. He ignoring Nezu’s looks as he took his hands out from his pockets. 

 

“I’m sorry I’m late.” Aizawa apologized, Endeavor shaking his head lightly. 

 

“I’m sure it was for a good reason.” he replied. 

 

“It was.”

 

“How is hero work getting on Erasure?” Endeavor asked, an air to his tone that Aizawa nearly rolled his eyes at. “Must be hard to balance the two.”

 

“It’s productive.” Aizawa replied simply. 

 

“Aizawa. Why don’t you start?” Nezu broke the tension easily, placing his paws on the desk and pouring Aizawa a cup of tea. 

 

Aizawa took a breath, Endeavor’s stare boring into the back of his skull. 

 

“Last week, I held a homeroom in honour of mental health. As you know, this year’s selection of students have been through a lot...” Aizawa started. 

 

Endeavor raised one eyebrow. Amused. 

 

“Mental health? That’s unlike you, Erasurehead.” he commented. 

 

Aizawa ignored him. 

 

“It’s come to my attention... that Todoroki is still suffering from the after-effects of his childhood trauma.” he instead continued steadily. 

 

“His burn.” Endeavor stated. 

 

“More, the reasons for the incident and the way it was handled afterwards.” Aizawa pressed. 

 

“Is it affecting his hero work?” Endeavor asked quickly. 

 

Aizawa took a quick breath in, leaning back in his chair slightly so as not to lean forward and throttle the man. 

 

“I’m not concerned about his hero work.” Aizawa replied pointedly. 

 

“Good.” 

 

“I’m more concerned about his mental well-being.” 

 

Endeavor took a moment, twisting the teacup between one finger. A habit Todoroki copied. Inherited.

 

“What are you implying?” 

 

Aizawa could hear the edge creep into his voice. That boundary Midnight had talked about was being tip-toed along. 

 

“If you’re asking my opinion.” Aizawa started, allowed himself to lean forward again, invading the pro’s personal space. Endeavor looked up but didn’t go to move. “I’d say that Todoroki hasn’t had any closure. I’d go as far as to say he still blames you.”

 

Endeavor’s nostrils flared as Aizawa backed off slightly. Nezu, who had been drumming his fingers across the desk, stopped. 

 

“Is that completely your own opinion Erasurehead?” the principal asked. 

 

“I know he blames me.” Endeavor cut in. “Someone had to take the blame for what happened to Shoto and the boy’s relationship was always much closer to his mother.”

 

Aizawa growled under his breath. He’d forgotten how good Endeavor was at press. His ease with words... He was arrogant, but it was almost his charm. 

 

“You have to understand.” he continued swiftly, his voice lathered in earnest. “As a parent, it’s the price I paid to keep him safe.” 

 

“We understand.” Nezu replied, Aizawa shaking his head before either could continue. 

 

“I don’t.” 

 

Endeavor’s expression tensed. 

 

“Surely keeping him safe would be sheltering him from the dangers of hero society?” Aizawa posed. 

 

Endeavor said nothing, instead looking the man up and down, shifting in his seat.

 

“Instead, you exposed Todoroki to the worst aspects of hero work before he was old enough to understand the world he was going into.” Aizawa continued. “If anything, here at UA, we’re having to undo all the ‘parenting’ you think you gave him in the first place.”

 

Aizawa watched with muted glee as the number one hero paled in front of him, his eyes growing dark. Even Nezu shrunk slightly, tapping one paw on the table thoughtfully. 

 

“How dare you.” Endeavor replied under his breath. Aizawa kept staring, using his spare hand to pick up the cup of tea from in front of him, sipping it lightly. 

 

Gah, he hated tea. 

 

“Do you share this opinion?” Endeavor turned on Nezu, his fist slamming on the table, knocking some of the water from the cups. 

 

“I have known Todoroki to be a troubled boy.” Nezu replied calmly, reaching across the table for a napkin. “But I have not asked why.”

 

“These are the twisted truths of a sixteen-year-old boy who wouldn’t understand or remember the way things really happened.” Endeavor spat. 

 

“I’m not concerned with that.” Aizawa replied lightly. “I’m more concerned with how Todoroki feels and what effect these ‘twisted truths’ as you would prefer to put it, are having on his wellbeing.”

 

“I would have to agree, that takes priority.” Nezu commented, Aizawa breathing a little easier with his boss on his side. 

 

Endeavor looked between the two with equal rage, cornered. 

 

Good. If Endeavor felt as uncomfortable as he looked, this meeting wouldn’t go on for more than ten minutes. 

 

“I raised my son how I thought best.” Endeavor replied, his tone dark, head bowed. “I gave him everything I had.”

 

“Don’t you have four children?”

 

This time Aizawa realised he’d crossed the line before the last word had left his mouth. 

 

Endeavor saw red, the flames across his face erupting as he slammed across the table, the teacups scattering. 

 

Aizawa went to stand in response but Endeavor got there first, grabbing him by the collar, his other fist punching the table beside him. 

 

“YOU WANT TO WATCH YOUR DAMN TONGUE?!” he yelled, Aizawa’s eyes flickering red before Endeavor tossed him aside. Aizawa had to break his fall using his hands, his palms hitting the table with some force. Nezu, who had been simply been protecting his tea the entire time, stood. He flicked the spoon he was holding perfectly, so it clipped Endeavor’s eyebrow, shocking the man to look up. 

 

“I would appreciate it if you would refrain from manhandling my staff.” he asked politely, looking down at the mess on the table and sighing. 

 

Aizawa stood straight and inspected his palm, bowing his head at the man before him. 

 

“I’m sorry.” he apologised. “That was out of line.”

 

Aizawa was expecting Endeavor to say something in response, get angry, lash out. 

 

He didn’t. Instead there was a look in his eyes, behind the rage.

 

“Now.” Nezu stated, moping the table as the two sat down. “I think things are getting quite out of order, wouldn’t you agree?”

 

Both Endeavor and Aizawa looked up at each other, Aizawa painfully aware of Nezu’s tone. 

 

“Todoroki will undergo the necessary assessments to see if there is something we can do here at UA.” he continued. 

 

“Assessments?” Endeavor demanded.

 

“Therapy most likely.” Nezu replied.

 

“The boy’s fifteen.” Endeavor scoffed. Aizawa wondered if he had a single clue. 

 

“And?” he asked instead.

 

Either that or Enji seriously hadn’t had a single mental issue in his lifetime.

 

Or a conscience. 

 

It must be nice.

 

“What do you suggest I do?” Endeavor subdued, the severity of what Nezu was saying, beginning to dawn on him. 

 

“Communication is key.” Nezu pressed. “That’s communication between both you and your son, us and Todoroki and importantly UA and yourself.”

 

“Todoroki doesn’t talk to me.” Endeavor stated not looking Aizawa in the eye. 

 

Aizawa decided that saying ‘he talks to me’ was probably a little too petty. 

 

Besides, the look on Endeavors face suggested that he already knew it. 

 

“That will change in time.” Nezu said simply. Aizawa couldn’t tell if he meant it as a question or not. 

 

Endeavor nodded regardless. He looked up at the clock just past the desk and coughed awkwardly. 

 

“If we’re done here, then I have patrol in an hour.” he said, rising from his chair and cutting the discussion short. Aizawa and Nezu followed suit, standing. 

 

“I believe we’ve covered the basis.” Nezu replied. He didn’t ask for Aizawa’s opinion this time. “It’s been a pleasure Endeavor.”

 

Endeavour nodded swiftly before turning to make his way out of the room. Aizawa’s eyes followed the back of his head, looking down as he turned once more to open the door.

 

There was a silence after the door clicked shut, Aizawa leaving his own seat to brush the remains of the tea off of his trousers. Nezu stayed in his place.

 

“Erasurehead? A word?”

 

Nezu’s voice remained bright and cheerful but this time Aizawa could hear how incredibly forced it was.  

 

Aizawa turned to face his superior. 

 

“Take a seat.” 

 

Nezu pointed to a chair, this time the one opposite him. 

 

Crap. 

 

— 

 

“How did it go?” Hizashi asked, the next morning as Aizawa entered the staff room, yawning. 

 

“Hmm...” 

 

Aizawa looked around to see if Nezu was about. 

 

He wasn’t. 

 

“It went as well as expected.” he concluded. 

 

“Did you follow my advice?” Nemuri asked, looking up from her computer screen. 

 

“I went in with the intention of following your advice.” Aizawa replied honestly, dumping his paperwork on the space next to Hizashi. 

 

Nemuri, pushed her glasses further up her nose to stare at him. 

 

“And..?”

 

“Then I did the opposite.” 

 

“Fucking hell Shota.” Nemuri swore, placing her head in her hands. Hizashi laughed from opposite her. 

 

“YESS SHOTAAAAAA!” Hizashi cried, imitating Endeavor’s sports-festival-style yell. Aizawa shoved him with a grin. 

 

“Stop it! Nezu might hear!” 

 

“I bet he was pissed.” Nemuri commented. 

 

“That’s an understatement.” Aizawa muttered. “I’m just grateful to be here.”

 

“That’s the one and only time you’re going to say that.” Hizashi grinned.

 

“Probably.” Aizawa agreed.

 

“Just be careful.” Nemuri sighed shooting the two a look. “I think you underestimate what you’ve gotten yourself into Shota.“

 

“I know what you think.” Aizawa replied. “But Todoroki’s welfare has always been my priority.”

 

“I know that.” Nemuri replied.  

 

“It’s the battle of the dad’s!” Hizashi cried.

 

“Please don’t call it that.” Nemuri sighed.

 

“Yes, please don’t.” Aizawa echoed, logging onto his computer. “I’m no father figure. Two and a half years and these kids will graduate and then it’s ‘bye bye’, they’ll move on with their lives and I can finally wipe my hands of them.” 

 

“Aw just when you were getting all emotional.” Hizashi pouted playfully.

 

“But, in Todoroki’s case.” Aizawa continued. “The boy trusted me with what happened in his past, so the least I can do is try and make things better for him.”

 

“And at the same time, tearing into the number one hero must be pretty fun.” Hizashi winked. 

 

“Naturally.” 

 

“Can I borrow some staples?” Hizashi added, Aizawa pointing to a drawer on his left. 

 

“Should be some in there.”

 

“God! You’re unreadable.” Nemuri cried, standing in her place. 

 

“That suits me.” Aizawa replied airily. 

 

Nemuri got up and walked across to the vending machine. 

 

Aizawa purposely didn’t catch her eye.

 

—

 

A few days later and Aizawa was interrupted from his marking by a knock at the door. 

 

Marking was a loose term, Aizawa had actually been distracted by Hizashi’s invite to a game of online scrabble. 

 

He was winning. 

 

Stretching out in his desk chair and looking up at the door, Aizawa suddenly realised how dark it had gotten. It was nearly quarter past six.

 

Flicking the light switch, to make sure that it didn’t look as if he was living in a cave, he opened the door.

 

Todoroki stood on the other side, phone in one hand, the other shoved inside his sweatpant pocket. He looked up as Aizawa appeared, eyebrows raised slightly.

 

“Oh. You’re awake.” 

 

“What do you mean ‘oh, you’re awake’?” Aizawa growled.

 

“I didn’t know if you had patrol or not.”  Todoroki reasoned. 

 

“I don’t.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Aizawa looked down at the teenager in front of him, trying to gauge whether or not Todoroki was okay. His posture seemed stable, he didn’t look tired or as if he’d just had the energy sucked out of him. 

 

Todoroki seemed as if he had something on his mind however. He looked down at his phone slightly, his mouth twisting to one side. 

 

Aizawa wanted to ask, but he remembered what had worked so well the last time. Letting Todoroki come to him.

 

So, he kept his mouth shut. 

 

“My dad messaged me.”

 

Aizawa felt his chest tighten slightly. He ignored it.

 

“What did he want?”

 

“He wants to take me out to dinner. Tonight.”

 

Todoroki’s expression was unreadable, his posture fixed, passing his phone from one hand to the other. 

 

Aizawa shifted slightly in the doorway. 

 

“Did you want to go?”

 

Todoroki was quick to reply.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“I can’t make the decision for you.” Aizawa replied pointedly. Todoroki looked away slightly. 

 

“I know that. I more was thinking you could give me advice.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Aizawa looked behind him at his messy room and closed the door, facing Todoroki properly. 

 

“I think I would decide based on how I felt at the time.” Aizawa replied honestly, watching the boy mull over his words in his head. 

 

“I feel like I could go? I guess?” Todoroki said, squinting. 

 

“You’re not convincing me.” Aizawa stated as Todoroki shifted onto the other foot, sighing. 

 

“It would be boring.” 

 

Aizawa felt his shoulders drop from tension he didn’t even realise he’d been carrying. 

 

“That’s what you’re worried about?” he asked exasperatedly. 

 

“I think it would be interesting as well.” Todoroki continued. “I don’t know. It’s a bit weird.”

 

“You’d miss dinner here.” Aizawa replied, playing along. “That would be a plus.” 

 

Todoroki shrugged. 

 

“Look. Todoroki.” Aizawa said, catching the boys eye. “If being bored is the only thing you’re worried about then… I think you should go.”

 

The teen looked up at his teacher, his eyes widening slightly.  

 

“That’s if you want to.” Aizawa finished.

 

“I think I want to go.” Todoroki replied slowly. “If you think I should.”

 

Aizawa resisted the urge to slam his head into the wall. 

 

“I think we’re going in circles here.” he said, placing a hand on Todoroki’s shoulder. “This is your choice, it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

 

“I just wanted your opinion.” Todoroki replied bashfully, his eye line drifting to the side again. “You’re the first adult that knows, outside my family, so I thought your opinion would be helpful… I guess.”

 

Aizawa felt his arm drop to his side once more as he steadied himself against his door. 

 

He hadn’t even considered that Todoroki may want to rely on him to talk about his dad. He expected Todoroki to go to someone else, Iida or Midoryia but no… this made sense. 

 

Still, it was weird. Aizawa didn’t know if he felt more like a teacher or a parent. Neither really sat well. 

 

Midnights words echo’ed in his head. 

 

“You rely on adults too much.” he finally replied, his lips curling slightly. 

 

Todoroki’s head cocked to the side. He didn’t get it, Aizawa didn’t expect him to.

 

“What time does he want you?” Aizawa asked instead, changing the conversation back to the topic at hand.

 

“Seven. At that sushi place. Maduda?”

 

Aizawa had to cough so as not to laugh. Of course Endeavor would take his son to one of the most expensive restaurants in Tokyo.

 

He did the mental gymnastics in my head. 

 

“Okay, I’ll drop you off.” he replied, wondering how long he could leave Kan with both 1A and 1B for. “And I’m staying.”

 

If he played his cards right, Aizawa could see himself getting an expenses paid meal. 

 

“Okay.” Todoroki replied with a nod.

 

“Don’t worry.” Aizawa assured his student. “I’ll sit away from you. I won’t cramp your style.”

 

“I don’t mind.” Todoroki replied earnestly. “I wasn’t worried about you getting cramp…”

 

“It’s a figure of speech, I-“

 

Aizawa gave up.

 

“Don’t worry about it. Be ready for half six.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I’ll meet you in the common area.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“And get changed. You’re not going to a Michelin star restaurant in gym wear.”

 

“Right. Sure.”

 

Todoroki shuffled slightly, turning away to turn back, wrapping his fingers around each other. 

 

“I… Th-“

 

“It’s fine.” Aizawa interrupted, waving his student away. 

 

“Thank you.” Todoroki persisted, bowing slightly and making his way back down the hallway. 

 

Aizawa sighed softly. After every conversation with Todoroki he felt as if he needed a nap. 

 

He looked at the time, or distinct lack of time.

 

Okay, no nap… 

 

Coffee?

 

—

 

“Why did I have to get changed?” Todoroki questioned as the two walked down the streets of Tokyo. 

 

Aizawa watched as the teenager gripped his shirt a little tighter against his chest. He was clearly uncomfortable, although Aizawa didn’t think the wardrobe choice had anything to do with it. 

 

“I told you why.” Aizawa replied, looking both ways before ushering them across the road. They were only a couple of blocks away from the restaurant. Early for once as well.

 

“But you didn’t dress up.” Todoroki retorted. 

 

Aizawa sighed slightly under his breath. In all honesty, after his previous meeting with Nezu, he hadn’t expected the hybrid to let him dine at Maduda at all.

 

It seemed everyone was intent on surprising him this week. 

 

“Your father won’t care what I look like.” he replied.

 

Todoroki yawned. 

 

“Don’t do that in front of him either.”

 

“I won’t, I’m just tired.”

 

“Go to bed earlier.”

 

Todoroki gave him a look but refrained from saying anything. 

 

Aizawa didn’t like the silence. 

 

As they stopped at the next crossroads, Aizawa slid a glance in the boy's direction. Todoroki had gone to fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, absentmindedly chewing his bottom lip as he stared straight ahead. 

 

Aizawa’s hand instinctively went up, ruffling the top of the boys head, breaking him out of his trance.

 

“You nervous?” 

 

Todoroki looked startled for a moment, Aizawa wondering whether he’d made the wrong call before his expression softened and he shrugged, looking down. 

 

“I guess. It’s just… different.”

 

“It’s certainly that.” Aizawa agreed.

 

“Do you like my father?” Todoroki asked suddenly as Aizawa watched the lights change, pulling the two across the road and down one of the side streets. 

 

“No.” 

 

“Okay.”

 

They continued walking. 

 

“Thank you for the honesty.” Todoroki added. 

 

“Do you like your father?” Aizawa asked in reply. 

 

“I don’t know yet.” 

 

The conversation stopped once more and Aizawa relaxed, grateful that Todoroki was continuing to talk, even if it was disjointed. 

 

“Shoto!” 

 

Endeavor's voice broke through Aizawa’s thoughts as they rounded the corner. Endeavor walked forward from where he was stood outside the restaurant entrance, Todoroki stalling slightly before going to join him. 

 

Endeavor was early. And wearing a suit.

 

Miracles really did happen.

 

Aizawa coughed slightly so as to announce his presence. Endeavor looked up, and right through him. 

 

“Erasurehead.” 

 

“Evening.”

 

Both men were playing along for Todoroki’s sake but only Aizawa caught the teenagers decidedly unconvinced expression. 

 

“Thank you for bringing Shoto at such short notice.” Endeavor ploughed ahead, placing a hand firmly on Todoroki’s shoulder. Aizawa looked down at the boy quickly but Todoroki seemed remarkably unfazed, his eyes glancing to the hand. 

 

“It’s no problem.” Aizawa replied as the three headed inside. 

 

Immediately the waiting staff were all over the number one hero, welcoming him and Todoroki in with some enthusiasm. As the teen began to get swept away, Aizawa grabbed his wrist lightly, leaning in. 

 

“I’ll be over there.” he motioned to the boy, pointing out a small table with a ‘reserved’ sign on it. Todoroki nodded, taking cautious note of where his teacher was going to be. 

 

Endeavor smiled, sickly sweet and Aizawa turned his back on him walking over to the table just across from where the pro was being seated. 

 

He opened the menu and scanned the contents half-heartedly, his eyes widening. 

 

Jeez. Endeavor could afford this?! 

 

Looking across at the man, Aizawa hazard that the most likely scenario was that Endeavor was treating his son. 

 

The number one hero is was smiling proudly having seemingly remembered Todoroki’s favourite drink. 

 

That wasn’t exactly hard. Todoroki’s favourite drink was water. 

 

Midnight’s annoying voice crossed his mind once more and Aizawa buried his head in the menu. 

 

Looking at Endeavor was just going to annoy him. 

 

Besides, Todoroki looked like he was okay. 

 

Aizawa looked up from the menu once again. Todoroki was smiling slightly at something his father was saying, turning the corner of the menu back and forth between his fingers.

 

Yeah… he looked okay. 

 

—

 

Todoroki seemed much more relaxed on the way back from the meal than he had been on the way there. 

 

Aizawa eyed him out of the wing mirror. The boy was sitting back in the car seat, his face illuminated from the screen of a retro game his father had gifted him. 

 

It wasn’t a long drive from the city up to UA but ten minutes in and Todoroki put the game down with a small sigh. 

 

“You alright?” Aizawa asked, flexing his hands across the steering wheel as they stopped at a red light. 

 

“Yeah.” Todoroki replied. “Tired.” 

 

“It’s Sunday tomorrow.” Aizawa offered. 

 

“Yeah, but I said I’d go on a run with Momo in the morning.” 

 

Todoroki shuffled in his seat, pulling the seat belt away from his chest slightly as the car set off again. 

 

“My dad wanted to meet up with me tomorrow as well.”

 

Aizawa’s eyes raised but he said nothing. 

 

“I said no.” Todoroki finished. 

 

“How come?” Aizawa couldn’t help but ask, curiosity getting the better of him. 

 

“I just want to see how that meet up goes… yeah. How it feels… It still feels… odd?”

 

Aizawa didn’t reply straight away. A part of him was glad that Todoroki hadn’t just accepted Endeavor’s change in attitude like everybody else around him had seemed to. Then again, as his son, Todoroki should have been the first. 

 

The boy's voice broke the silence once more.

 

“He seemed… upset?”

 

“I should bloody hope so.” Aizawa replied, feeling his hands grip the steering wheel tighter. He tried to relax, noting the way he could feel his pulse through his fingers, focusing intently on the road in front, leading up to UA.

 

“Troubled actually.” Todoroki corrected himself. “That’s more what it seemed.”

 

“How did that make you feel?” Aizawa asked, acutely aware of how pathetic the question sounded. Todoroki didn’t seem to pay much attention. 

 

“…Powerful.” the boy replied, staring out of the window. “I don’t know what I was worried about… one day I’ll surpass him.”

 

“Maybe.” Aizawa mused from beside him, noting the shift in tone in the teenager's voice.

 

“That’s what he wanted.” Todoroki continued, his voice cold. “To create something ultimate. Bigger than All Might. A monster.” 

 

“You’re not a monster.” Aizawa was quick to reply, metering his tone through gritted teeth. 

 

“Hmmmmm. I guess only by design...”

 

The rest of the car journey continued in silence. Aizawa had no clue what to say and Todoroki seemed to have come up with his own conclusions. 

 

Good or not, Aizawa could only hope that that was something they could control at UA. 

 

As the two pulled into the parking lot, Aizawa stopped the car, letting the engine run out as Todoroki reached to grab his stuff. 

 

Neither got out straight away however, the streetlight from across them streaking shadows across their faces. 

 

Todoroki picked up the games console again, tapping a button before offering it upwards. 

 

“Do… you want a go?” 

 

Aizawa could hear Nemuri's warning echoing inside his head. 

 

“You’re shattered.” he replied, looking back at the teenager who looked down at his lap guiltily.

 

Todoroki’s mind was too busy for sleep. 

 

And so Aizawa ignored the warning in his head, undoing his seatbelt and twisting around to face the boy better, holding out a hand. 

 

“One game then.”

 

Todoroki looked up, his eyes shining slightly in the artificial light. He twisted the console around and placed it in his homeroom teachers hands. 

 

“So… it’s pretty simple to understand…”

 

Aizawa wouldn’t get over how nice it was to see the tension slip away from his students face.

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

EXTRA!!

 

One ring, two rings, three… and…

 

The line clicked and Aizawa took a breath.

 

“Nemuri.”

 

“Shota?”

 

A palatable silence followed, the hiss of the phone line and the patter of rain the only sounds either two could focus on. 

 

“It’s eleven pm.” Nemuri stated. 

 

“I know.” Aizawa replied, getting up from where he was sat on his bed, to look out of the window, the lights from Tokyo flickering in the distance. 

 

“Is everything okay?”

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Then why are you phoning?”

 

“So many questions…” AIzawa murmured, hearing Nemuri sigh lightly on the other end of the call.

 

“They’re reasonable questions.” she replied.

 

“They are.” Aizawa agreed, tracing water droplets down the glass.

 

“You cryptic bastard.” Nemuri scoffed, her voice tired but light, crackling through the phone line. Aizawa’s lips curled upwards.

 

The rain was turning the lights of the city below into bokeh, their colours running into one another.

 

“You know why I’m phoning.” Aizawa eventually replied. 

 

“I wondered how long it would take.” she replied. 

 

“I’m fine.” Aizawa replied pointedly. “And I don’t-“

 

“Want to talk.” Nemuri finished for him. “I know. How long have we been friends? Countless nights we’re phoned each other just to sit on the line for hours talking about nothing.”

 

“I can’t be up for hours.” Aizawa replied. “I’m collecting Eri at nine.” 

 

There was a pause. Aizawa wiped the condensation from his fingertips onto his top. 

 

“Stop smiling.” he muttered down the line. “I can’t hear you.” 

 

“You can’t hear smiles.” Nemuri pointed out before sighing softly. “What’s brought this one then?” she asked calmly. “Talking about it in that homeroom last week?” 

 

“No.” Aizawa replied, leaning against the windowsill. 

 

“Todoroki?” Nemuri asked. 

 

“You were wrong.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“He’s like me.” Aizawa continued. “He’s better when he’s one on one. He opens up more-“

 

“I wasn’t arguing with your teaching choices.” Nemuri interrupted him. “I was just telling you to be careful. But you had me and Hizashi, if Todoroki wants to open up to you then you should let him.”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“And if anyone wants to tell you otherwise, point them in the direction of Yagi and Midoryia.”

 

Aizawa laughed at that, rubbing his eyes with his spare hand.

 

“Who’d have thought you’d be able to relate yourself to Todoroki of all people.” Nemuri commented. 

 

“It’s only sometimes.” he yawned. “One on one, so that’s not a lot.”

 

“It’s something.”

 

“And I don’t know if Enji is a good father figure.” Aizawa mused. “But Todoroki looks happier. He’s certainly come out of his shell a bit more.” 

 

“Good.” Nemuri replied, pausing for a moment, Aizawa’s eyes wandering across the view, trying to make out the lights of Tokyo Tower. “You’d make a good father.” she finally concluded. 

 

Aizawa scoffed. 

 

“Fuck off.” 

 

Nemuri laughed lightly across the line, fatigue causing Aizawa’s eyes to strain as he pushed himself away from the window. 

 

“And are you okay?”

 

Aizawa looked at his hazy reflection in the window with a sad smile.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Don’t be lonely Shota.” Nemuri spoke softly. 

 

“Goodnight Nemuri.” was Aizawa’s only reply as he flicked his alarm clock on. 

 

“Tsundere.” Nemuri retorted. 

 

“Goodnight Nemuri.”

 

“Goodnight Shota.”

 

Notes:

Once again, thank you for your support.
Normal updates from here on out!

Chapter 31: The Class 1A Sub

Summary:

After training with Aizawa-Sensei for four months, he’d worked out that the man seemed to switch between two moods. Relatively pissed off and properly pissed off.

Today was a properly pissed off day.

Which surprised Shinsou, since in the centre of the gym, next to Aizawa, was Midoryia. Doing pushups.

--

OR

Shinsou feels like I feel this week not getting into drama school.

oof sorry lads

Notes:

Soooooo I didn't get into the course I auditioned for.
I'm devastated yeah but hey life goes on. I have jobs in the works (yay) and eh.

Yeah... Eh.

Enjoy the chapter!

“Four laps around the gym. Go.” 

 

Shinsou barely had time to drop his school bag before he found himself on the move. He jogged around the vicinity of the gym, picking up his feet as he did. 

 

“Quicker.”

 

Shinsou fought the urge to roll his eyes. After training with Aizawa-Sensei for four months, he’d worked out that the man seemed to switch between two moods. Relatively pissed off, in the sense that you could probably still crack a joke or two and get away with it. And properly pissed off, a one-wrong-move-and-you’re-dead kind of mood that seemed as if everything had a dark cloud over it.

 

Today was a properly pissed off day. 

 

Which surprised Shinsou, since in the centre of the gym, next to Aizawa, was Midoryia. Doing pushups. 

 

The Class 1A student waved at him mid-pushup. Shinsou didn’t know if he was being friendly or trying to show off his upper body strength. He didn’t really have the time to mull over it.

 

“Quicker.” 

 

Shinsou turned his run into a sprint, making sure not to cut corners around the gym edge. Aizawa hated it when he did that. He focused instead on the path ahead, still watching Midoryia out of the corner of his eye. 

 

He’d switched to burpees. Shinsou prayed silently that he wouldn’t have to do that next. 

 

“You were slower than usual.” Aizawa announced as Shinsou finally finished, hunching over his schoolbag to grab his water bottle and catch his breath. He looked up to see his mentor holding up a stopwatch, an eyebrow raised. 

 

“Sorry Sensei.” Shinsou replied bitterly. He hated disappointing the man. 

 

Aizawa didn’t reply to that, simply dragging his jumper off from over his head, pulling his t-shirt down as he did. 

 

Good. That usually meant they were doing fight training. 

 

“Sorry I’m late!” 

 

Shinsou turned his head to see All Might pushing the door back behind him, breathing steadily underneath an oversized t-shirt. 

 

It was still weird seeing the emaciated form of someone who used to be the number one hero. 

 

“All Might!” Midoryia called, halfway through a burpee, his face lighting up slightly. 

 

“Midoryia my boy!” the man called back.

 

Shinsou sneaked a look across at Aizawa. His mentor looked as if he wanted nothing more but to sleep. Shinsou imagined he had the same look on his face. 

 

“They were just warming up.” Aizawa replied, walking forward to greet the man. 

 

They? Shinsou eyed Midroyia up steadily. Were they training together? Midoryia caught his eye as he jogged over, giving him another smile that made Shinsou’s eyebrows furrow and his nose turn up in muted dismay. 

 

“Ah, perfect.” All Might smiled, placing a hand on Midoryia’s shoulder. Shinsou twisted slightly so that his shoulder was closer to Aizawa’s. Aizawa didn’t move. “It’s nice to see you again young Shinsou.”

 

“All Might.” Shinsou replied, bowing his head slightly. The former pro just chuckled slightly, making Shinsou feel rather like an idiot. 

 

“Let's get on with this then.” Aizawa announced, the smile on Midoryia’s face growing somehow wider.

 

The three moved to the centre of the gym, pulling mats across the floor, leaving Shinsou following them rather like a lost puppy. 

 

“How are you feeling today my boy?” All Might continued to ask the class 1A student, the two getting lost in their own conversation. 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei.” Shinsou found the confidence to speak up. Aizawa didn’t turn to look at him but his gaze shifted slightly. “What are we doing today?”

 

“You’ll be training with Midoryia.” Aizawa replied steadily, lifting one of the blue mats so it velcro-ed to the other. “Make yourself useful, would you?” 

 

Shinsou turned before he let himself scowl. He hated Aizawa when he was properly pissed off. Training with Midoryia as well? That sounded like some bullshit if Shinsou had ever heard it. The kid was way too overpowered, not to mention in class 1A and being somewhat trained by the former number one-

 

“Hey, do you want a hand?” 

 

Midoryia looked across at Shinsou with doe-like eyes, motioning with one hand to the blue mat Shinsou had stopped just short of. 

 

“Er… it’s okay, I’ve got it.” 

 

“Oh, I like your t-shirt!” Midoryia beamed back, undeterred. “Jiro likes that band as well.”

 

Shinsou looked down at his shirt, the faded ‘Death’ logo peeling at the edges, before looking across at Midoryia’s. New and fitting. A proper workout top. 

 

“Jiro?” he asked, hauling the mat across the gym floor. Midoryia didn’t help, thank goodness, but he continued walking beside him, chatting animatedly. 

 

“A girl in my class! She has the earplugs coming out of her earlobes, her quirk is really cool. It’s a bit like Present Mic’s but way more versatile. Although saying that, when they went together in the student-teacher fights last term, Present Mic completely overpowered her at the beginning-“

 

“I think I know who you mean.” Shinsou cut him off, praying that would shut him up slightly. “Also, of course Present Mic overpowered her. He has way more experience.”

 

“Maybe.” Midoryia shrugged. “But now we know his voice we’re at an advantage! Because we can recognise him we can avoid his path anyway…-“

 

“Have you quite finished?” Aizawa called. Shinsou grit his teeth together slightly. He hadn’t even been the one talking properly. 

 

“Shinsou, you need to stretch whilst we talk.” he continued. “Midoryia’s just had hero training but your body isn’t warmed up for combat yet.”

 

Shinsou nodded slightly, going through the motions as Aizawa spoke. 

 

“Midoryia, you can sit.” he motioned as the two pro’s lowered themselves to the gym floor, Midoryia coming beside Shinsou. “I haven’t told Shinsou the reason you’re here yet. Sorry. He was late.”

 

Shinsou’s nose flared slightly. He hadn’t been late. He’d been on time. His English class had been moved this week to accommodate the hero course having extra lectures. So he was coming from the other side of campus to make training on time. Aizawa knew that.

 

“That’s quite alright.” All Might replied. “It was Young Bakugou’s idea to get the two together.”

 

Shinsou looked up slightly in surprise. Bakugou..? The explosive one who looked almost as if you’d given a golden retriever an electric shock and the personality of a hornet. 

 

“Why?” he asked slowly.

 

He could have sworn he hated Midoryia.

 

The green haired teen was looking down at his laces with a sort of fixed expression on his face. Determination. Shinsou went back to flexing out his wrists as he spoke. 

 

“Well whenever I fight you something really weird happens, it’s like something…”

 

Midoryia looked over at All Might for that word, as if it was some sort of code. All Might just nodded, the smile on his face the sort of smile that pissed Shinsou off. Kind of caring? But not in a scary way like Aizawa-Sensei. Nurturing? Probably.

 

“…It’s as if something takes over me.” Midoryia continued. “It helped me break out from your quirk the last time.”

 

“The sports festival.” Shinsou confirmed.

 

“Yeah.” Midoryia nodded. 

 

Brilliant. The boy had a natural talent so natural he didn’t even need to train it. Shinsou didn’t know if that unnerved him more or less than it did before.  

 

“The plan is to try and figure out if this ‘something’ is a result of your brainwashing or just coincidence.” Aizawa took over, drawling the ‘something’ out with a remarkable amount of disdain. Or curiosity. It was hard to tell. 

 

“Today, we just want you to fight.” he continued. “Shinsou, it’s been agreed that you should use your quirk as much as possible-“

 

“I’ll lose.” Shinsou interrupted, an edge creeping into his voice. Midoryia even had the balls to look confused.

 

“Will you now?” 

 

Aizawa’s tone was laced with threat. Shinsou felt his cheeks rise with heat.

 

“If he can break away from my quirk then it makes more sense for me to focus on long-range combat. I’ll put myself at a disadvantage otherwise.” he continued, hoping that he could use knowledge to worm his way out of defeatism. 

 

“This fight is predominantly to test whether Midoryia’s quirk is always affected by yours. So that doesn’t matter.” Aizawa replied. 

 

‘In other words, it’s not about you.’ Shinsou thought silently, drawing back and nodding slightly. 

 

“It will also be a good opportunity for you.” Aizawa spoke. “Apart from me, you haven’t had a chance to use your training against someone. You’d be unwise not to give it your best. Especially in front of All Might.”

 

It was almost a threat. 

 

‘Prove it or you’re dropped’

 

“I’m looking forward to seeing how far you’ve come young Shinsou.” All Might smiled. His tone was genuine but his gaze piercing. 

If this was a test, Shinsou was pretty sure the ‘I’ll lose’ comment had failed him already.

 

“Warm?” Aizawa asked him, getting up before he’d finished speaking. 

 

“I’m ready.” he replied jumping up, Midoryia next to him in an instant. 

 

“I’m going to try my hardest!” he beamed, fist scarred but clenched. Shinsou stared slightly at the dark lines crossing Midoryia’s hand. From the fight with Stain? The USJ fight? The countless other fights Shinsou wished he’d been a part of.

 

“I hope you get what you want.” he replied.

 

“Shinsou!” 

 

Aizawa was holding up his capture weapon in one hand, beckoning him over. Shinsou turned before catching Midoryia’s eye one last time. 

 

“I’ll win.” he stated, Midoryia grinning like a prize idiot back at him. 

 

“Shinsou!”

 

He jogged over to his mentor, Aizawa handing the length of fabric over to him. 

 

“I got it fixed.” he said, Shinsou fingering the edges of the scarf gingerly. His own capture weapon. Finally. “Just don’t pull it too tight around your neck.” 

 

Shinsou lifted the scarf over his head nodding. Aizawa placed a hand on his shoulder for a split second before walking off, joining All Might at the edge of the room. 

 

Turning back to Midoryia, the 1A student was already in a fighting stance, his eyes fixed. Shinsou went through the motions inside his head. If Midoryia went to attack first, he would catch him around his dominant leg. Or arm. Whichever he went to hit with. 

 

If Midoryia held back Shinsou could take his time. If his main objective was to brainwash him then he’d either have to take him by surprise, taunt him so much that it hurt or make him cry out. 

 

All in front of the former number one as well. 

 

Jeez.

 

“You two ready?” Aizawa asked, tilting his head back from applying eye drops. 

 

Shinsou gave him a thumbs up, Midoryia nodding. His eyes were still firmly on Shinsou. A dead giveaway.

 

He was going to attack first. 

 

“Begin.”

 

Shinsou barely had time to react before Midoryia was up in the air, using the back wall of the gym to propel himself in Shinsou’s direction. Shinsou went for his capture weapon but missed the grip, instead flailing to his left.

 

In hindsight, that was a good thing. Midoryia’s left hook, powered with green lightning caught the edge of his chin. Shinsou was sent careering into the edge of the mats, landing across his shoulder and hitting the floor with a resounding ‘thud’.

 

“Son of a bitc-“

 

“Don’t swear.” Aizawa reprimanded, deadpan. 

 

“Sorry!” Midoryia called from in front of him. 

 

“Don’t apologize!” All Might cried, his voice decidedly more exasperated than Aizawa’s. 

 

“What did you say?” Shinsou asked, a slight grimace on his face as he propelled himself upwards. 

 

Midoryia went to say ‘sorry’ again but caught his eye, clamping his mouth shut instead. Eyes dazzling. 

 

‘Nice try’

 

Shinsou hated that.

 

At least the time between the two of them gave Shinsou a chance to grab a hold of the capture weapon, pulling it out in front of him so it billowed towards Midoryia’s outstretched leg. The boy jumped away but Shinsou clipped his ankle, throwing him off balance. 

 

“Like?” he asked, playing to the boy’s weakness. 

 

“Is that Aizawa’s capt-“

 

“Gotcha.”

 

The tension from Midoryia’s stance went immediately, his eyes glossing over. 

 

“Amazing, thank you Shinsou!” All Might called out from beside him. “Can you keep him under for as long as possible?”

 

Shinsou nodded, looking around the gym for things he could make the class 1A student do. After training with Aizawa he knew that with some menial task he could keep someone under brainwashing for upwards of forty-five minutes. 

 

He’d made Aizawa do all of his classes washing. It had been priceless.

 

“Re-tie your shoelaces.” he asked quickly, Midoriya immediately going to crouch down in front of his trainers. Aizawa gave him a look and Shinsou shrugged slightly. 

 

All Might also crouched down in his place, watching Midoryia intently. 

 

After ten minutes the adults seemingly gave up, Aizawa motioning for Shinsou to let go of his control. The two boys fell back at the same time, Midoryia dazed and Shinsou trying to ignore the slight headache already forming in the back of his head. 

 

“Anything my boy?” All Might asked Midoryia. Midoriya shook his head, confused. 

 

“I think maybe the task was too basic?” he asked. 

 

“Thought so.” Aizawa mused. 

 

“I could have changed the task.” Shinsou protested, pouting slightly. 

 

“Again then!” All Might called, the two boys pulling them up to their feet. 

 

And so Shinsou tried again. And again. And again.

 

Midoryia’s fighting style was almost erratic. Shinsou was finding it hard to try and grasp a pattern in his movements, but the class 1A student often used the surrounding walls to jump off of like Spiderman. His legs were mainly used to roundhouse, his arms to follow through. 

 

Shinsou got a hold of Midoyia at some point with his capture weapon, tying it around the boy's wrists and hauling him onto the floor. He used his other hand to pin him in a choke, his knee riding up his waist. 

 

“Speak or I’ll choke you, yeah?” he’d growled, pressing down on Midoryia’s windpipe.

 

“O…okay.” Midoryia had managed to squeeze out, the purpose draining from his vision as Shinsou took control once more.

 

“Something more violent!” Aizawa called out. 

 

Shinsou hissed under his breath slightly. He’d already had Midoryia try and jump from the highest framework in the gym, run until it would have been physically unsafe to. 

 

How much more threat did his damn quirk need?

 

Shinsou was pissed off, tired. His head throbbed with the overuse of quirk. Looking across at his mentors he could see their gaze. Fixed on Midoryia. The golden boy of class 1A. God if only he could just-

 

“Strangle All Might.”

 

Shinsou heard his tone, low and distant. He pulled himself off of Midoryia, twisting around so he was out of the way. The boy shakily got to his feet, pulling himself in the direction of the former number one hero. 

 

“Shinsou?” 

 

Aizawa voice was calculated. Worried? Probably not. 

 

“It’s alright.” All Might replied with a small smile. “I’ll give you two taps if I want you to lose the control, alright?”

 

“Standard.” Shinsou replied, focusing on the former number one rather than Aizawa stare. 

 

In his defence, All Might stayed standing. His eyes wavered slightly as his student approached but he held his ground. 

 

Shinsou felt himself kneel, willing his focus to stay. 

 

He continued to ignore his mentor.

 

Midoryia swayed a little in front of All Might before extending an arm, grabbing a hold of his throat, roughly pushing him back onto the wall behind. His whole frame was shaking but as Shinsou looked down at himself he realised so was he, his hands leaving sweaty marks on the mats in front of him as he peeled them away. 

 

Aizawa was watching the scene play out with a look of concern Shinsou hadn’t seen in him for a long time. That felt good. When Aizawa was acting properly pissed off it was hard to elicit any other sort of emotional response in him. As Aizawa’s gaze moved from All Might to Shinsou it only went to boosting his pride. At least now he looked concerned. Concerned with Shinsou for the wrong reasons was better than not acting concerned with him at all. Somehow.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by All Mights strangled gasp for air. At this point his whole body was arched, his head fitting between the slits in the wall behind him. His fingers were curling slightly with the effort. 

 

With muted horror, it suddenly dawned on Shinsou how strong Midoryia was. If he’d asked him to use One for All on All Might, the former pro would be dead right now. Which meant if Shinsou could just control the right person… he could kill anyone.

 

He could kill All Might.

 

He was thinking about that so much that he didn’t notice All Mights low tap on the wall behind. 

 

“Shinsou…” Aizawa’s voice was urgent, not looking at his student but at his colleague. “Drop the control…”

 

All Might’s fist banged the wall again, his eyes wide. He was… Shinsou couldn’t… 

 

For the first time that day Shinsou couldn’t move, his breath stuck in his throat, eyes fixated so much on the scene in front that the rest of his vision was fading black. 

 

“SHINSOU!”

 

Aizawa eyes glowed red. Shinsou felt the tension he’d been holding fade away. He fell backwards slightly, his hand coming down, harder than he would have liked onto the mat beside him. He gasped for a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, listening to All Might splutter. Midoryia cry out, startled. 

 

“Oh my God… Did I..? Was I strangling you?! All Might! Oh my, oh my, oh my I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to I didn’t even know… Did I hurt you? Are you hurt? Can you breathe?”

 

All Might waved him away, smiling slightly as he caught his breath. Midoryia’s voice faded to the background, Shinsou’s ears ringing as he saw Aizawa approach. 

 

“I’m sorry.” he managed to make out as his mentor knelt beside him. He didn’t dare look up at his expression. He didn’t want to. 

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Aizawa’s grip was firm on his shoulder as Shinsou let himself come back into the present. 

 

Midoryia was still apologising. 

 

“Look at me.”

 

Shinsou looked up. Aizawa’s face was the same but… softer. His eyes searching his own. 

 

“Let’s call it a day.” he called, standing up once more and letting Shinsou wipe the sweat from his forehead. 

 

“Quite agreed.” All Might replied, his voice syrupy and rough. 

 

Shinsou was up in an instance, bowing as low as he could, eye fixed on the ground.

 

“I’m sorry. I lost control.”

 

All Might laughed slightly, warmly.

 

“It’s alright.” he replied. “It’s training. I was fine. We’ve overworked you.” 

 

Shinsou looked up slightly. Cheeks burning. Head throbbing.

 

If this was a test then he’d completely failed it. 

 

“It didn’t work.” he stated, looking at Midoryia who had his gaze fixed on All Might still.

 

“Any ideas why my boy?” the former pro asked Midoryia, the teen looking down at his hands as if they were still possessed. 

 

All Might grabbed them lightly. 

 

“Young Midoryia. Focus.”

 

“Oh… Erm, well I think it’s different from the last two times because I let myself be brainwashed, kinda.” he finally replied, looking around before catching Shinsou’s eye. 

 

“What do you mean?” Shinsou asked, his voice demanding. He’d had a grip on Midoryia. One of the strongest students in 1A and it had been a fake?

 

“Well I knew it was you, so I kind of saw it coming.” Midoryia continued. “And I knew Aizawa-Sensei would be there to stop you.”

 

“It’s not going to work in such a controlled environment such as this.” Aizawa confirmed. “Whatever ‘it’ is.”

 

“I suppose not.” All Might sighed. “Oh well, it was worth a try.” 

 

“We don’t even know if it relates to Shinsou anyway.” Aizawa continued. 

 

“It does.” 

 

The three turned to Midoryia. 

 

“There was defiantly something…” he nodded. “But I wasn’t in any real danger, so it didn’t really work.”

 

Not in any real danger. 

 

Shinsou felt that comment like a sucker punch to the stomach. 

 

“Okay, we’ll leave it for now. Get some rest Midoryia.” Aizawa instructed, Midoryia running over to grab his bag as Shinsou played with the capture weapon around his neck. He didn’t go to get his own bag straight away. Aizawa was hovering behind him. Discrete. But with more to say. 

 

Shinsou would be wise to stay back and hear him out.

 

“It was good to fight you again though Shinsou!” Midoryia smiled, returning to his normal bubbly self Shinsou neither liked or trusted. “You’ve gotten so strong! You’re really amazing.”

 

“Thanks.” 

 

He was too tired to add any fake enthusiasm to his own voice. 

 

“You’ve come a long way young Shinsou.” All Might agreed as the two turned to leave. 

 

“I nearly killed you.”

 

“I'm sure young Bakugou has done worse.” All Might grinned lightly, leading Midoryia towards the exit of the gym.

 

Of course Bakugou had.

 

“I’ll see you around!” 

 

“Bye Midoryia.”

 

The gym door closed with a resounding thud, Shinsou turning to face Aizawa before he could try and put it off. Lectures of health and safety, misuse of quirk-

 

“Stop being jealous.”

 

Oh.

 

Aizawa looked down at him, his eyebrows furrowed.

 

“It looks defeatist.” he continued. “And petty.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Aizawa sighed at that, shaking his head, leaving Shinsou’s eyes prickling.  

 

“I get it, it’s hard being at the bottom of the priority list sometimes. But you’re forgetting what you do have going for you.”

 

“I’m not taking these sessions for granted.” Shinsou protested, his heart thumping in his chest. 

 

“Good.” Aizawa replied. “I wouldn’t put my time aside for you if I didn’t think it was worth it. Neither would All Might for Midoryia.”

 

“I did try.” Shinsou protested. “In the fights. I tried my hardest.”

 

“Eventually. Only once you realised that you really could overpower Midoryia. It’s not the attitude to go into a fight with.”

 

Shinsou didn’t argue with that, instead letting the heat rise to his ears, his nose flaring. 

 

“I’m sorry.” he repeated. Properly this time.

 

“Okay.”

 

Aizawa softened slightly, his fatigue showing through as Shinsou stood, in the middle of the mats. Wondering when would be a suitable time to get his stuff.

 

“I apologise that your health wasn’t our number one priority today.” Aizawa said finally.

 

“Nor was All Might’s.”

 

Aizawa scoffed slightly. 

 

“How’s your head?”

 

“Bad.” 

 

Aizawa motioned across to his utility belt, lying beside Shinsou’s own bag. 

 

“There’s some painkillers in there. We’ve only used up half the session and I want to go through your hand movements with that capture weapon.”

 

“I got them wrong.” Shinsou admitted, pacing over to his mentors belonging. 

 

“I know. You recovered well though.”

 

Shinsou thought for a moment. He swigged the painkillers dry and turned around.

 

“Can I get something to change my voice?”

 

“Change your voice?”

 

“It’ll be easier to trick people into replying if I can use voices that they trust.” Shinsou replied, thinking back to what Midoryia had said about Present Mic. “Especially people like Midoryia…”

 

For the first time that session, Aizawa smiled. 

 

“Alright.” he replied, proudly? Shinsou could almost hear pride… “One support item at a time though yeah? Get into position, we’re going to do those hand movements first and then we’ll use the scarf.”

 

Next time he fought Midoryia. He’d be the one to initiate it.

 

“Wrong hand Shinsou! It’s your left! Focus!”

 

He just hoped that would be in a little while from now…

Chapter 32: Football

Summary:

A football match with quirks?!

Kaminari drawing Midoryia?!

Tokoyami making up yaoi about Bakugou?!

I mean come on... what could go wrong?

Notes:

Happy Friday!
Just before we start, a small authors plea...

PLEASE STOP SENDING ME PROMPTS XOXOXOX

I love them all, I really do but I'm struggling to keep on top of them all I'm really sorry. I want to try and do them all so I've made a list of them all and have them all written at the end of this chapter, so if you have prompted me in the last month, please make sure I haven't forgotten it xx

This chapter itself was a prompt so I hope I did it justice! Thank you to A_L_W for help with how tf to play football. Also it's British football because I myself am British haha.

“Look what I found!”

 

The entirety of class 1A were at one of the parks just a short walk from the UA campus. It was a Saturday, but classes had ended early as present mic had some radio event to attend.

 

Kirishima had such a grin on his face that the rest of the class had a hard time not smiling as they rolled their eyes. Prized in the boy's hands was a large football, coated in mud and fraying at the seams. 

 

Coming to the park had actually been Aizawa’s idea, much to the classes surprise. It made sense now, their homeroom teacher had fallen asleep under a tree. The rest of the class were either playing in the small play park or sitting and eating the picnic that Sato had ended up organising.

 

“Does it even work?” Kaminari asked, causing Jiro to snort so hard, juice came out of her nose. 

 

She was leaning on the picnic blanket, Kaminari using her back as a work surface for his notebook. 

 

“It’s a football, how could it not work?” she giggled, earning herself a slap from her best friend. 

 

“I don’t know!” Kaminari replied from behind her. “Can you bend over a bit more?”

 

“Yeah hold on.” Jiro replied, re-shuffling her legs. 

 

“What are you drawing?” Hagakure asked from where she was lying beside them. 

 

“Bakugou wanted me to draw Midoryia, but I can’t get his eyes right…” Kaminari replied, his face twisting into a frown as he leant his notebook across Jiro’s back.

 

“Midoryia?” Sato questioned. “Why Midoryia?”

 

“Oh, he kinda wanted it like a caricature?” Kaminari replied.

 

“Like you did with Aizawa?” Hagakure asked. “The one that he saw and then you got detention for like a week.”

 

“Yeah… that’s the one.” Kaminari grinned.

 

“So he’s taking the piss basically.” Jiro confirmed. 

 

“Who, Bakugou?” Kaminari asked, Jiro nodding. 

 

“Basically.”

 

“Sooooo… Football?” Kirishima spoke up from in front of them, tossing the ball from hand to hand. 

 

“Maybe in a bit.” Ashido spoke on behalf of the group, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun. “We’ve just eaten.”

 

“We ate ages ago!” Kirishima protested. 

 

“No, you ate ages ago and only because you hoover your food rather than eat it.” Jiro quipped. 

 

“God fucking-dammit this stupid eye! Jiro quit wiggling!”

 

“I’m not wiggling Denki, you’re just shit at drawing eyes.” 

 

“You give it a go then!” Kaminari retorted, shoving his pencil into Jiro’s hair. She went up to grab it, but Kaminari got to it first, holding it up in the air triumphantly. 

 

“Why don’t you just draw him with his eyes closed?” Hagakure asked. 

 

“I’m going to ask the others if they want to play.” Kirishima mentioned briefly before running off and leaving the conversation behind. 

 

“Why would I draw him with his eyes closed?” Kaminari asked. 

 

“Because he’s Asian?” Jiro replied.

 

“Jiro! You can’t say that!” Ashido giggled. 

 

“Why not? We’re all Japanese.”

 

“Apart from Aoyama.” Sato reminded them, smiling. 

 

“Ha, ha, ha.” Kaminari grinned. 

 

“He could be kissing someone.” Hagakure offered. 

 

“Who? Aoyama? Is that a French thing?”

 

“No.” she replied pointedly. “Midoryia. In the drawing.”

 

“Oh… Who would he be kissing?”

 

Kaminari’s question hung in the air for a moment before;

 

“Uraraka!” Ashido cried with a grin.

 

“Or Iida!” Jiro commented.

 

“No way! If he’s kissing a guy then it’s going to be Todoroki, not Iida.” Hagakure laughed. 

 

“No, oh my God, All Might!” Jiro cried, bursting into laughter.

 

“Bakugou.”

 

Everyone turned to Sato who was busying himself tiding up bento boxes and cake wrappers. He looked up as he noticed his classmates stares. 

 

“What?” he shrugged with a grin. “He’s the one that requested the picture.”

 

Everyone's eyes turned to Kaminari. 

 

“Should I?” the boy asked.

 

“If it will help the eye situation.” Jiro replied, her voice wavering as she tried not to laugh. Instead, she laid down on the floor in front of him. “Lean on my back like this, it’s comfier.”

 

“Please do it.” Ashido added with a grin. “It would be priceless.”

 

“It would be a bit like a death sentence.” Hagakure commented. “But if he gets really, really angry then just say that I requested it instead.”

 

“Toru, you’re a legend.” Jiro smiled across at her classmate. 

 

“Alright.” Kaminari grinned, settling down to draw before looking up at the group once more. “So just to confirm. You want me to draw Bakugou kissing Midoryia?”

 

The group could barely contain their laughter. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay... I’ll do it.”

 

— 

 

“Football? How about it?” 

 

“Where the fuck did you find that?”

 

Bakugou looked across from where he was stood, just underneath the monkey bars. Kirishima sighed slightly but remained undeterred.

 

“Under a bush.”

 

“Under a bush.”

 

“Who cares where I found it bro, let’s play a game!”

 

“It sounds like fun!” Midoryia chirped from where he was hanging, upside down, from the bars. “Can we use our quirks as well?”

 

“That’s hardly good conduct.” Iida reasoned from a few metres away. He was pushing Uraraka and Sero on the merry-go-round. “We’re outside of UA campus.”

 

“Yeah but not far.” Kirishima replied. “And Sensei’s asleep.”

 

“Still?” Sero laughed. “It’s been like two hours.”

 

“Nearly, he woke up when Bakugou blasted Mineta off the tree.” Midoryia replied. 

 

“I’m right here you know, moron.” Bakugou snarled. 

 

“Where is Mineta anyway?” Sero asked. 

 

“Over with Momo and Asui.” Uraraka replied. “He’s making daisy chains or something.”

 

“Yeah, sure that’s all he’s doing.” Bakugou rolled his eyes.

 

“We could probably use our quirks.” Kirishima argued. 

 

“I’ll play with you!” Midoryia smiled, his grin turning into a weird snarl from the angle he was hanging. 

 

“We’re not done here yet.” Bakugou called from the ground. 

 

“What are you two doing?” Kirishima asked, trying to cock his head round to see Midoryia clearly.

 

“Well I’m hanging from the climbing frame and Bakugou is trying to throw bits of wood chips at me to see if I can dodge mid-air!” Midoryia explained excitedly. 

 

“I find the whole thing rather preposterous.” Iida sighed. 

 

“I think it’s funny!” Uraraka grinned. “Iida, can you push us the other way again?”

 

“Not yet Uraraka. It’s wise to change swing direction every couple of minutes to avoid both you and Sero getting dizzy.”

 

“But that’s the point!” Uraraka groaned. 

 

“Hold on a sec…” Kirishima spoke up, spinning the ball in his hands. “You’re throwing wood chips at him?”

 

“Fucking yeah I am.” Bakugou replied.

 

“And you’re enjoying this?”

 

“I guess?” Midoryia smiled. 

 

“Want a go?” Bakugou asked, grabbing another handful of wood chips from the ground, picking away at the biggest ones. 

 

“Are you stupid?” Kirishima started. 

 

“Thank you!” Iida called. “Someone with some sense!”

 

“Of course I want a go!”

 

“Kirishima?!” 

 

“But I want to find someone to play football with first okay?”

 

“You won’t find anyone.” Bakugou replied. 

 

“Awn bro! Is that your way of saying you want to hang out with me?!” 

 

“No. Piss off.”

 

“Noted.” Kirishima replied, grinning. “See you later guys!” 

 

—

 

The only other groups left to try were the daisy chain makers (ft Mineta), or the rest of the boys who were sat under a blossom tree chatting animatedly about some topic or another. Kirishima went for the latter, trying to walk casually into the discussion. He tried to listen intently to what they were saying as he approached. 

 

“If you’re going to invest so much why not give it to charity?”

 

“Think about how much you could give to hero culture with ￥14,500.”

 

“Or the homeless.”

 

“Or the hikikomori.”

 

Nope. Kirishima was lost. 

 

“What are you talking about?” he asked. The group looked up casually, Ojiro moving his tail so Kirishima could sit between them. 

 

“The news.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I think it’s important to be up to date with things that are going on in the world.” Tokoyami replied with a shrug. “Also this billionaire, Masayoshi just lost ￥14,500 on Bitcoin.”

 

“Holy shit.” Kirishima scoffed. “Wasn’t Sero going to use Bitcoin.”

 

“Yeah but then he remembered he had no money.” Ojiro pointed out.

 

“Oh yeah!” Kirishima grinned, looking down at the football slightly. ”Err.. want to play football? With all of us here there’s enough for three aside!”

 

Koda was the first one to reply, shaking his head and arms vehemently, backing off slightly.

 

“Not a football fan?” Kirishima asked with a small smile. 

 

“What if the ball hits me?” Koda half-signed, half-whispered in reply. 

 

“Oh, I would talk to Midoryia about things like that.” Kirishima joked. “He’s having wood chips thrown at him for fun. Anyway, football?”

 

“Yeah alright, I’m in.” Ojiro nodded.

 

“Why not.” Shoji added. 

 

“Sure.” Tokoyami agreed. 

 

“I’ve never played.”

 

The group turned to look at Todoroki, sat there, his face stoic. 

 

“What?”

 

“Seriously dude? Like never?” Kirishima asked.

 

“I’ve kicked a ball before if that counts?”

 

“No, Todoroki that does not count.” Shoji laughed. “We’ll have to play now, to show you the ropes.”

 

“Thank God!” Kirishima cried, pumping his fist up in the air. “Finally a game!”

 

“Still need one more person for three aside.” Ojiro pointed out, tail wagging slightly. 

 

“Midoryia said he wanted to play but I think he’s…”

 

Kirishima craned his neck over one shoulder.

 

“…Yeah, he’s still having wood chips pelted at his face.”

 

“Is that a euphemism?”

 

“This time Todoroki, it appears not to be.” Tokoyami replied to the teen, following Kirishima’s eye line. “Is he okay?”

 

“Yeah, he’s fine.” Kirishima nodded just as cries of laughter erupted from the other side of the field. The group looked up just in time to see Ashido laughing so hard at Kaminari’s notebook that she was rolling into Hagakure on the grass. 

 

“Are they okay?” Tokoyami asked, eyebrow raised. 

 

“I want to find out what they’re laughing about!” Ojiro smiled, hopping up. 

 

“Kaminari was trying to draw Midoryia earlier, maybe it ended up wrong or something?” Kirishima mused. “I’m going to find someone else to play and then we can have our MATCH!”

 

“Sorry I don’t want to…” Koda signed as Kirishima followed his friends back over to the other side of the field. 

 

“No, no, no worries! You can be the ref?” Kirishima grinned, eliciting an exciting nod out of the teen. “Oh! That’s a good point, I’ll see if Yaoyorozu can make a whistle! HEY MOMO!”

 

“HEY KIRISHIMA!” she yelled back, not looking up from her daisy chain. 

 

“Oh sorry! Did I not need to shout?” he grinned sheepishly, stepping into the circle of the daisy chain makers. 

 

“Don’t!” Yaoyorozu suddenly cried, thrusting an arm in front of Kirishima’s legs and stopping him so abruptly that he nearly toppled forwards onto the grass. “You’ll step on the daisy chains.”

 

“Awh man, can I do anything right?” he joked, regaining his balance and stepping back slightly.

 

“I’m sure you can.” Asui replied without missing a beat. 

 

“That doesn’t fill me with much confidence.” Kirishima pouted slightly, turning the ball over in his hands. “So! Err… Football?”

 

“Non, merci je déteste le football.” Ayoama replied with a smile, placing an already finished daisy chain on top of his head. 

 

“I’ll take that as a no. Anyone else?” Kirishima asked with a pout. “I just need one more person.”

 

“Any girls?”

 

“No, sorry Mineta.” 

 

“Get a grip.” Asui commented with a sigh. “Sorry Kirishima. Have you asked the others?”

 

“Yeah.” Kirishima sighed. “Most aren’t really interested, I’ll have Midoryia once he’s stopped…  training? With Bakugou.”

 

“Training?” Yaoyorozu asked. 

 

“Ehh… Kind of? Oh! Can you make a whistle?”

 

“Sure, for the match?” Yaoyorozu asked, placing the daisies down and activating her quirk. Her t-shirt billowed slightly as she did, eventually dropping a metal whistle onto her lap. “Will that do?”

 

“Ah! That’s insane, thank you!” Kirishima beamed, testing it out for good measure. 

 

“It’s no problem.” Yaoyorozu smiled in reply over the shrill sound. 

 

“I can make sashes for the winning teams!” Aoyama cried, flourishing his daisy chain wildly. 

 

“That would be sick!” Kirishima beamed. “Alright well, I’ll catch you guys in a bit! But thank you!”

 

The four watched as the redhead sprinted back off in the direction of the picnic. The group over there were now laughing so much Koda was snorting.

 

“Do you think he’s forgotten that he still doesn’t have another player?” Mineta asked, picking a daisy from behind him.

 

“Oui.” 

 

—

 

“What are you guys laughing abou- OH MY GOD!”

 

Kirishima caught a glance of Kaminari’s drawing seconds before he shoved it behind him. He was still trying to ‘shhh’ the other between giggles.

 

“Stop it! Bakugou will notice!”

 

It didn’t work, the laughter only grew. Even Todoroki was grinning at this point, having picked up the notebook for a better look at the cursed drawing. 

 

“You’ve still got to give it to him yet!” Ashido cried in fits of giggles. 

 

“Give it to him? Why?” Ojiro asked, coming behind Todoroki and snorting. 

 

“He requested it!” Kaminari replied before catching himself. 

 

Those in Class 1A not in on the joke looked at him, eyes wide, their laughter halted. Jiro, at this point, was howling.

 

“No! Not like-!” 

 

She couldn’t finish her sentence before the group erupted once more.

 

“No its good!” Shoji protested, still laughing. “He could frame it!” 

 

“Or blow it up and make it a poster!” Ojiro added. 

 

“It would make a brilliant cover photo for some yaoi.” Hagakure cried. The girls howled at that, the picnic in disarray. 

 

“Do you think Mineta would read it?!” Ashido posed between laughs. 

 

“Number one best seller!” Jiro added. 

 

“Who would write it though?” Ojiro asked. 

 

“I will.” Tokoyami replied, coughing slightly and composing himself. The group turned to him to listen, still hiding giggles in their sleeves. 

 

“Midoryia-kun was arranging his All Might figurines-“

 

The laughter had already grown but Tokoyami continued.

 

“-when he felt a hand feeling along his lower back.”

 

“What the fuck Tokoyami!” Kaminari cried but Jiro pelted him to shut up. 

 

“As the hand fingered along his waistline, Midoryia-kun could feel breath against his ear. Hot. Warm. Wet.”

 

“AHHHH STOP IT!” Hagakure yelled, still laughing.

 

“No, continue!” Ashido cried, sitting up and looking a little too enthusiastic. 

 

Most of the boys were hiding their faces at this point, with the exception of Todoroki who just looked confused. 

 

“Would you stop interrupting the number one best seller?” Tokoyami asked, deadpan. 

 

The laughing peaked. 

 

“Midoryia-kun felt a presence slid itself behind him, something hard pressing between his thighs. Every inch of him felt as if it was on fire, the All Might figuring was shaking in his sweaty palm. The breath on his ear lobe only grew hotter as the voice, in a low, plaintive whine, whispered-“

 

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LAUGHING AT EXTRA’S?!”

 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

 

“Hide it! Hide the notebook!”

 

There was a flurry of movement in an attempt to hide Kaminari’s drawing under a cake tin.

 

“EH?” 

 

“Hey, Bakubro! Ready to play some football?” Kaminari asked, trying to take the attention away from the rest of his classmates who were still crying at the story.

 

“Sure, whatever.” he waved his best friend away, eyes squinting. “What’s so funny?”

 

There was a painful silence, the group looking around at each other before-

 

“Tokoyami was reading his favourite yaoi.” Hagakure replied,

 

Tokoyami looked as if he wanted the ground to swallow him up.

 

“What the fuck?” Bakugou replied. “You gay or something?” 

 

Tokoyami didn’t know what to reply which in turn caused Bakugou to pale slightly, stepping backwards. 

 

“What?” he cried, the venom receding from his voice. “I mean it’s okay. If you’re gay. I don’t give a shit.”

 

Bakugou’s awkwardness only caused everyone to laugh more, luckily interrupted by Midoryia, Sero, Iida and Uraraka catching up to the explosive teen. 

 

“Stop moving Midoryia!” Iida cried as he attempted to hold the boys face in place. 

 

“He got some wood chip in his eye.” Sero explained before catching everyone's expressions. “Woah. What’s up?”

 

“I don’t know, they’re being weird.” Bakugou muttered, kicking dirt with his foot. 

 

“Hey! We can play football now!” Midoryia cried from behind him. 

 

“Stop moving Midoryia-kun!” Iida replied, trying to wipe the bark from his eye. 

 

The use of the honorific caused the entire group to fall about in laughter again, causing Bakugou’s palms to blaze. 

 

“What the fuck?! What are you all laughing at?!”

 

“Got it!” Iida cried, brandishing a wood chip in his fingers. Midoryia blinked wildly, stumbling backwards, conveniently into the back of Bakugou. 

 

“Oh sorry Kacchan!”

 

“You want some?!” Bakugou yelled in his face.

 

“That was it. That was the next line.” Tokoyami stated. “Just less angry.”

 

The group could barely contain themselves now, falling about on the floor. Even Sero and Uraraka were giggling despite not knowing what was going on. 

 

“Hey, I can play football with you now!” Midoryia smiled.

 

“Oh yeah!” Kirishima cried. “Right! Who have I got to play?”

 

“Who cares, let's just go already.” Bakugou snarled, snatching the ball out of his best friends hands and sauntering off. 

 

“Awesome, those who want to play football follow me!” Kirishima smiled at the group as Uraraka, Midoryia and Iida ran off behind Bakugou. 

 

“Hey! Sero! Kirishima! Wait.” Jiro whispered, beckoning them over. “Show them the drawing Kaminari.”

 

There was a look over his shoulder before Kaminari reached for the cake tin, prizing off the lid to reveal the notebook. 

 

The two boys looked at it for a moment before,

 

“I don’t get it.” Kirishima said. “Who is it?” 

 

—

 

By the time the Class 1A ‘football team’ had assembled, the sun was starting to set in the sky. It was still bright enough to be able to see clearly but the sun wound up being at eye level. 

 

“We’re still missing a player.” 

 

Kirishima looked around at the teams he’d created. Midoryia, Iida, Ojiro, Shoji and Todoroki in one but only Bakugou, Uraraka, Tokoyami and himself in the other. 

 

“Can’t we play with four-aside?” Todoroki asked. 

 

“But there’s nine of us.” Kirishima pointed out. “And it doesn’t really work. It would have to be five aside instead of three aside now-oh!” 

 

The red-head turned to where Aoyama was sat, calling in his direction. 

 

“Aoyama! Can you make five sashes instead of three?!” 

 

“Oui!”

 

“Sashes?” Midoryia asked, head cocked to one side. 

 

“For the winners!” 

 

“Seriously?” Bakugou pouted, shielding his eyes away from the sun. 

 

“Yeah! Come on bro! It’s cool!” Kirishima cried back.

 

“Did you find any other players?” Yaoyorozu called across. 

 

“Yeah but we’re still down one!” Kirishima called back, using his hands as a megaphone. 

 

Yaoyoruzu got up from where she was, brushing her shorts down and jogging over. 

 

“I’ll play.” she smiled.

 

“No way! Really?!” Kirishima grinned. “Do you know how to?” 

 

“Yeah, I’ve been to some matches when I was younger.” she replied, flexing her wrists slightly. “My dad used to always get tickets.”

 

“That’s quite cool.” Tokoyami commented. “Which teams?”

 

“He used to support Gamba Osaka.” Yaoyorozu shrugged. 

 

“They’re in the J1 league right?” Ojiro asked.

 

“Did you ever see F.C Tokyo play?” Uraraka added. “I used to watch the matches on TV when they were on!”

 

“They wear blue and white stripes right?” Yaoyorozu asked, Shoji laughing beside her. 

 

“It’s incredible you got to see the games.” he said. “Let’s hope you can play as well.”

 

“Sounds like a challenge!” Yaoyorozu smiled back. 

 

“Yeah!” Kirishima cried. “Let’s play!”

 

“It’s just a football game…” Bakugou muttered, stealing glances away to the picnic where the group were still giggling over Kaminari’s shoulder. 

 

“Just to clarify, can we use our quirks or not?” Iida asked, raising his hand. “Personally, I think not-“

 

“Hell yeah! Why not?” Kirishima interrupted, leaving Iida with his mouth gaping open. “I think it would be fun!”

 

“What are the rules again?” Todoroki asked quietly. Kirishima was about to reply as Bakugou twitched at another roar of laughter from the picnic. 

 

“You’ll learn as we go!” he smiled. “I set out the empty bento boxes as goal posts and Koda is going to be the ref. He has a whistle.”

 

Kirishima and Bakugou lined up in the centre, getting ready to kick off.

 

“Are we using quirks?!” Ojiro shouted from the goal line.

 

Bakugou smirked, looking behind him with a grin. 

 

“GUESS!” he shouted as Kirishima tapped the ball to him, his hands pushing backwards and using an explosive force to propel him into its path.

 

The ball flew at an alarming pace past Todoroki’s face. So fast in fact that it took Todoroki a couple of extra seconds before he expressed any sort of surprise.

 

Shoji moved almost immediately, his arm stretching out. Koda went to call handball, but as Shoji’s arm got closer to the ball, his arm mutated into a foot.

 

“Bullshit!” Bakugou cried as the ball, having lost most of its momentum by this point, bounced off of his duple-arm and out of the marked out area.

 

“You used your quirk.” Shoji pointed out, his arm returning to form. “And technically it’s a foot right?” he asked Koda.

 

The timid boy nodded, a nervous eye cast towards the Bakugou.

 

“Take it from a throw-in!” Kirishima called.

 

“Throw in..?” Todoroki started. He still hadn’t moved from his starting position.

 

‘I’ll take it,’ Tokoyami stated, Dark Shadow rising above him.

 

“Iida, sprint for the box when the ball hits Dark Shadow’s hand!” Midoryia cried, powering up One for All. “I’ll stop him from this side!”

 

“Alright!”

 

Tokoyami stood by the line, eyeing up the angle, Dark Shadow hovering beside him. Tokoyami held the ball up as if to throw it but as the whistle blew, he threw it up instead. Dark Shadow arched around, launching the ball towards the goal.

 

“IT’S YOURS!” Midoryia hollered to Iida, the boy's engines already powering up as he sprinted towards the marked out box. 

 

“ArghhHHHHHH!” he cried as he jumped into the air, hitting the ball cleanly with a resounding thud. It whistled across the pitch, over the heads of the majority of the group…

 

…and straight into Yaoyorozu’s hands.

 

Koda blew the whistle. 

 

“PENALTY!!” Midoriya yelled as Bakugou’s team covered their faces with their hands. 

 

“What? Why?! I’m allowed, I’m the keeper correct?” Yaoyorozu exclaimed, confusion across her face.

 

“ONLY IN THE BOX FUCKFACE” Bakugou raged, Kirishima gently holding him back.

 

“Okay let’s score!” Ojiro cried, the group moving down towards the goal. 

 

Bakugou had gone to dragging Yaoyorozu around the perimeter. 

 

“That’s where you stay.” he growled. 

 

“Midoryia. I don’t understand.” Todoroki stated as the boys began to spread out around the box. “It’s football. But the ball was thrown and caught with hands in that last-”

 

“Oh yeah! That happens sometimes!” Midoryia smiled. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

 

“Midoriya, I suggest you take it. You have immense power when it comes to kicks.” Iida theorised, his arms motioning to the boy's thighs.

 

“My pleasure!” Midoriya gleamed.

 

“Make it a good one Midoryia!” Ojiro yelled, Shoji throwing the ball to him.

 

“Do your best!” Uraraka cheered.

 

“STOP CHEERING FOR HIM, HE’S NOT ON OUR TEAM ROUND FACE!”

 

“I still don’t get it.” Todoroki added. 

 

The green haired boy placed the tattered ball in the square, flexing his shoulders, eyes narrowed at the goal. Yaoyorozu stared closely at the striker in front of her. Using her quirk, she carefully began to create larger gloves from her back. 

 

Midoriya wasn’t focused on the goalie however, he began to focus his energy into his legs, green electricity beginning to vibrate around him. Koda whistled, and Midoriya sprinted forward, striking the ball with impossible speed.

 

Momo’s eyes couldn’t follow it as it launched towards her.

 

The whistle blew.

 

The ball hit the ground solidly. Beside the makeshift goal posts.

 

Midoryia had missed. 

 

As Momo looked back, Midoriya was already on his knee’s apologising to their classmates.

 

“It’s no worries Midoryia!” Iida cried. “We all make mistakes!”

 

“HAHAHAHA YOU IDIOT!” Bakugou screeched. 

 

“Bakugou that’s not very sportsmanlike.” Iida scolded, Kirishima scratching the back of his head lightly as he attempted not to laugh. 

 

“I thought you’d get that…” Uraraka commented, causing Midoryia to wince even further. “Can I be the goalie now?”

 

“Of course!” Momo replied swapping places with her as Kirishima passed the ball back.

 

“Okay! We’ll get the next one!” Ojiro cried, clapping his hands together as he ran back down the pitch. 

 

The groups repositioned and Koda blew the whistle, Uraraka tapping the ball with one hand and sending it up in the air.

 

“Okay!” she cried, her quirk activating. The ball moved at a fraction of the speed it had as the group shielded their eyes from the sun in an attempt to catch where it was heading.

 

“Todoroki it’s coming to you!” Iida finally cried. 

 

“Right!” he replied, not moving. 

 

“It’s still coming to you!” Iida stated. 

 

The ten of them watched as the ball floated steadily down the pitch. 

 

“It’s still coming to you!” 

 

“It’s still coming to-

 

“I think we get the picture Iida.” Shoji laughed slightly. 

 

“Release!” Uraraka eventually cried as the ball dropped.

 

“Oh.” Todoroki stated as the ball nestled at his feet

 

“OVER HERE!” Midoriya called.

 

Todoroki looked up. Then back at the ball again, prepping his foot to kick before-

 

“This is taking too LONG!” Bakugou hollered as he took the ball from Todoroki’s feet. He sprinted towards the opposite goal, manoeuvring himself around Ojiro as he did. 

 

“Bakugou! In the middle!” Kirishima called.

 

“COMING YOUR WAY SHITTY HAIR!” And with that, he launched it with an explosion towards the centre.

 

Kirishima hardened his body and launched his head towards the ball.

 

“I’VE GOT IT!” he exclaimed but Ojiro got there first, leaping into the air, his tail following, knocking the ball off course. 

 

The football flew into the air, arching and blocking out the sun for a split second before plummeting down to earth...

 

Towards the picnic. 

 

Luckily the group who were sat there noticed the ball heading their way. They scattered as Koda started blowing his whistle frantically, just about darting to the sides before the ball landed. It hit the middle of the blanket with some force, sending the remainders of the food flying. 

 

The majority of 1A ran over as soon as the ball had rolled itself into a nearby bush. Bakugou got there first followed shortly by Jiro and Hagakure. 

 

“Who kicks like that?!” Jiro cried, turning around to face Ojiro who was now bowing profusely. 

 

“I am extremely sorry! I didn’t mean for the ball to go in that direction, I meant it to go the other way…”

 

“And it didn’t even count! It was your tail, not your foot!” Tokoyami laughed. 

 

“It’s okay!” Hagakure smiled. “No one got hurt!” 

 

“Yeah exactly!” Kirishima breathed before stopping, just short of the picnic, his eyes narrowing. “Errr… Bakugou… Are you okay?”

 

The rest of Class 1A turned their heading in the direction of Bakugou who was stood, like a statue, in front of the picnic blanket. 

 

“What the fuck. Is that?” he spat, pointing down towards the ground. The class followed his finger to what he was referring to, Kaminari pushing through to the front of the group.

 

“Oh it’s the picture you requested!” he replied as cheerfully as he could. “You wanted me to make it funny so I…”

 

His voice trailed off as Bakugou turned to him, thunder in his eyes. There was a moment of silence, the entire class holding their breaths before Bakugou lunged, grabbing the notebook with both hands and exploding it. 

 

“MY NOTEBOOK!” Kaminari screamed, lunging forward himself and trying to prise both of Bakugou’s hands away from it. “STOP IT BAKUGOU!”

 

“YOU STUPID MORON! WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DRAW THAT?!” Bakugou yelled back, pushing Kaminari with his arms so the boy stumbled backwards. “ARE YOU TRYING TO TAKE THE PISS?!”

 

This only fired the boy up more as Kaminari pushed Bakugou in return, harder. Bakugou stumbled backwards, losing his footing and landing on the ground, the notebook flying out of his hands. The two boys scrambled for it, Kaminari reaching for it first. Bakugou rolled onto his side, throwing his arm out and sending explosives right into Kaminari’s line of sight. 

 

There was a moment, just as Bakugou’s arm fully extended that Kaminari realised what was about to happen. His eyes grew wide before shutting tight, pulling his notebook and arms across his face. Bakugou’s explosion ricochet from his hands, blasting Kaminari a couple of meters before stopping. Abruptly. 

 

“What. Is. Going. ON?!” 

 

Bakugou was still catching his breath as he turned from where he lay to see Aizawa looming above him. His teacher's face was shadowed by the setting sun, his eyes a venomous shade of red. 

 

Kaminari was already surrounded by a few of the girls, Ojiro pushing them aside to inspect the marks on his arms, Tokoyami moments behind. 

 

“Get up.” Aizawa spat. “Both of you. Kamanari are you okay?”

 

“Yes but my notebook isn’t.” he replied, momentarily forgetting who he was talking to as he went for Bakugou again. “Why the fuck would you do that?! All my work!”

 

“Don’t draw shitty pictures of me then!” Bakugou retorted. “Making fun of me, you all laughing at me like I’m an idiot or something.”

 

“Okay! Sorry! It was a JOKE. Don’t explode shit in my face, you could have hurt me you idiot!” 

 

“Dodge then-gAH-“

 

Bakugou was cut off from replying with Aizawa’s capture weapon looping around his waist and dragging him backwards. 

 

Class 1A scattered slightly, Kaminari biting his lip as he fought back tears, his notebook falling to pieces in his hands. 

 

Kirishima ran over to the bush, picking up the ball and inspecting it for damage.

 

“Football was a cursed idea from the beginning.” He sighed quietly.

 

“I think it probably was.” Asui agreed from beside him.

 

The two watched Aizawa deal out house arrests to both Kaminari and Bakugou.

 

“Do you have anything positive to say?” Kirishima asked.

 

Asui looked at him for a moment before raising a webbed finger to her chin. 

 

“No.”

 

“Fair enough.” Kaminari replied, smiling slightly. “Fair. Enough.”

Notes:

HERE ARE ALL THE PROMPTS I HAVE

PLEASE MAKE SURE YOURS IS HERE AND COMMENT WHICH ONE YOU WANT TO SEE NEXT WEEK !!!

- Hide and Seek
- Sick with cold Bakugou
- Ice cream on a field trip
- Aizawa fatally injured in class
- Eri
- Game night
- Toru
- Vlad King
- Bakugou calling Midoryia quirkless
- Asui bringing siblings to dorm
- Midoryia telling Aizawa about ofa

THANK YOU !!

Chapter 33: Stupid, Quirkless Deku

Summary:

Midoriya was acutely aware that he was potentially one of the most overworked students in Class 1A. He’d fought for his place in the top five of his class in the midterms. He was on his way to prove himself worthy to take the title of the Symbol of Peace.

He just needed to keep it together.

And Bakugou needed to stay tf out of his way.

Notes:

So the poll came back OVERWHELMINGLY for both Bakugou calling Midoryia quirkless and Midoryia telling Aizawa about OfA.

Wow. Thank you so so much to everyone that commented!

It kinda made sense to combine the two somewhat (they'll still get a chapter each however) so I hope you enjoy! I tried to take it in the direction I hoped none of you were expecting.

For the most part, the tension between Bakugou and Midoryia was normal for Class 1A. 

 

Last week Bakugou purposely hit Midoryia in the back of the head with a wad of paper, insisting he was trying to get it to go in the bin. 

 

The week before that Midoryia accidentally tripped Bakugou up as he was chasing Kirishima to the water fountain after class. No one knew if it was an accident or not, but to see the angriest student in 1A face-plant the floor was golden. 

 

Then a few days ago Bakugou had tied Midoryia and Uraraka’s shoelaces together by the dorm room doors. The two had been running late to class and ended up having to three-legged-hop into homeroom. 

 

Aizawa was not amused, Class 1A was highly amused and Midoryia was shooting Bakugou half-hearted threats about how he was going to beat him in hero class all morning. 

 

It was just the way their friendship was. If you could call it a friendship. The line was kind of blurry in that respect. But it was fine. Because Midoryia was never angry back.

 

Until finals. 

 

The first year final exams were stressful. Unlike the mocks, it didn’t really matter what place you came within the class. You just needed to pass.

 

It was just the passing bit that was hard. Especially for Midoryia. 

 

Exams were one thing, but as the class had also just acquired their provisional licences, some were already acting sidekicks alongside trying to fit in time for homework and revision.

 

Midoriya being one of them.

 

Midoriya was acutely aware that he was potentially one of the most overworked students in Class 1A. He’d fought for his place in the top five of his class in the midterms. He was on his way to prove himself worthy to take the title of the Symbol of Peace.

 

He just needed to keep it together. 

 

One for All had started playing up again. Power started fizzling under the surface of Midoriya’s skin when he was least expecting it. Building but never escaping, even when he used his quirk at full power. Voices working their way into his head, rising in volume when he didn’t need them to. Stopping him from sleeping, preventing him from hearing things like stupid English grammar phrases he really ought to have committed to memory by now.

 

It wasn’t something that could be helped, even All Might was clueless, however, the sleepless nights were becoming more obvious. Midoryia was starting to fray at the edges. He even started joining Todoroki and Yaoyorozu for their morning runs, simply for something to do after yet another night of tossing and turning. He learnt how to make coffee as well. This also took away from schoolwork, again.

 

He was sure that UA would be understanding about the situation. If he told them. He’d kind of stopped telling All Might about the ‘One for All’ problem seeing as it hadn’t changed. And he still wasn’t bottom of the class. Far from it. If he worked harder, he would still be in the top ten.

 

Aizawa was less understanding, in sort of ‘if you’re preparing to become a hero you should always be prepared to have to prioritise your time’ way. He didn’t know about OfA, past the extent of ‘Midoryia was having some difficulty controlling his quirk’. Then again, with the added stress, most of the class were dealing with the same. 

 

Bakugou however… 

 

Bakugou was even less understanding than Aizawa. And he knew about One for All.

 

Just last week, Midoryia had come into the kitchen during breakfast to a Bakugou-style onslaught.

 

“Stop finishing all the sugar for your coffee you bastard!” 

 

Midoryia looked up to see his childhood friend wielding the sugar tin like some sort of weapon. The rest of the class was ignoring them, eating breakfast as if this wasn’t out of the ordinary.

 

“Sorry, Kacchan.” Midoryia replied tiredly, pushing past Bakugou for the fridge. “Have some green tea instead.”

 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Bakugou scowled in reply, his eyes following Midoryia like a hawk. “And don’t call me Kacchan. I didn’t want it for tea, I wanted it for porridge.”

 

“Fine. Have toast.” 

 

“Go to hell.” Bakugou retorted as Midoryia grabbed a yoghurt from the fridge and some cutlery from the drawer, taking his usual seat beside Iida. 

 

“I’m already in hell.” he replied, finally earning a few looks. 

 

Bakugou gave up with that, sitting down beside Kirishima and grabbing a piece of his breakfast. 

 

“Oi! My toast! Bakugou!”

 

“What? I can’t be bothered to make any of my own.”

 

Kirishima responded to that by grabbing the toast back off his best friend and shoving it in his mouth. 

 

“Tuff ‘uck.” he stated before swallowing. “You’ve already made your porridge, just have it plain.”

 

“Fuck that.” Bakugou pouted, as Yaoyorozu sighed pointedly from across them, placing down her newspaper and glaring. 

 

“Do you want some honey?” she asked. “I have some in my cupboard.”

 

“Yes.” Bakugou replied. 

 

Yaoyorozu continued to stare. 

 

“Please.”

 

She got up, pushing her chair back and walking around the kitchen to grab it from her cupboard.  She grabbed a spoon at the same time, passing it over Midoryia’s shoulder. 

 

“You can’t eat yoghurt with a knife Midoryia.” she laughed lightly as the boy looked down at his hands. 

 

“Oh. Yeah.” he replied, taking the spoon, Sero’s eyes narrowing from across the table. 

 

“Have you had any sleep?” he asked 

 

“Probably. I think so.” Midoryia replied as Yaoyorozu passed the honey over to Bakugou. 

 

“Here you go, your highness.” she said as she did. 

 

“Can you get my porridge from the side as well?” he replied. 

 

Yaoyorozu hit him across the head.

 

“What day is it?” Midoryia asked to the table, opening up the yoghurt and continuing by putting the wrong end of the spoon in the pot.

 

“Thursday.” Sero laughed. “The 8th. You really need some rest!” 

 

“Good sleep is vital for a healthy brain and optimal working efficiency!” Iida cried from beside him.

 

“Optimal is a weird word.” Midoryia mused. 

 

“That’s not what I…”

 

“Jeez Midoryia! You’re out of it!” Sero commented. 

 

“You’d better not be useless in class today!” Bakugou screeched from the other end of the table. “If we go head to head, I want a decent fight!”

 

“I won’t lose to you Kacchan!” Midoryia replied, pointing the correct end of the spoon in his direction. 

 

“Yeah right!” Bakugou cried. “Stop calling me fucking ‘Kacchan’.”

 

“Hero class is fourth period. Shut up already.” Jiro snapped, pulling one earphone out.

 

“Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan-“ Midoryia sang, leaning across the table uncharacteristically.

 

“You BASTARD!”

 

“BE QUIET!” Jiro yelled, standing in her place. “God you’re children and Midoryia you’re using the wrong end of the spoon.”

 

Midoyia looked down at his hands again. 

 

“Oh.”

 

“Why aren’t you getting enough sleep anyway?” Ashido asked from where she was washing up. “You went up to your room at like seven yesterday.”

 

“I was revising. For a bit.” Midoryia replied, twisting around in his chair. “And then I went training with All Might for a while.”

 

“Training?!” Kaminari interrupted “Woah, at what time?”

 

“Nine? Got back at eleven?” 

 

“That’s late. And dedication.” Kaminari replied, shoving natto into his mouth. 

 

“You’re already so good as well!” Uraraka replied. “I feel like I’ve got to catch up…”

 

“I agree that your dedication to hero work is exceptional.” Iida began. “But you should really prioritise a good nights re-“

 

“So what?!” Bakugou snapped from his end of the table. “We can’t all go out training with All Might in the middle of the night.”

 

“You’re just jealous.” Jiro mused. 

 

“Fuck off. You’ve got Present Mic.”

 

“He helped me with a move. Once. Stop whining.” Jiro snapped back. “Just because you haven’t gotten a spwecial herow mentor.”

 

“OHHH a spwecial herow mentor!” Bakugou mimicked back. “That fucking gay.” 

 

“Stop being so childish!” Yaoyorozu scolded. “And Midoryia I know you were up before five this morning for our run. Five hours sleep isn’t really ideal.”

 

“I think I got three.” Midoryia replied. 

 

“Hours sleep?!” Ashido cried. “You’re insane!” 

 

“You’re going to die.” Sero added. 

 

“You’re going to burn out.” Shoji corrected.

 

“I’m fine.” Midoryia protested. 

 

“Yeah, you look it as well.” Bakugou retorted, getting up. “As long as your fine for our fight.”

 

“I’ll win, Kacchan.”

 

“You bastard-“

 

“This is breakfast!” Yaoyorozu cried. “Have some decorum!”

 

“I was fucking going anyway.” Bakugou snapped, placing his already empty bowl down on the side. “You washing up?” he asked Ashido.

 

“Yeah, my stuff.” she replied.

 

“Do my bowl whilst you’re at it.” Bakugou said, before stalking out of the common area. Kirishima sighed and turned in his seat. 

 

“Don’t worry Ashido, I’ll do it.”

 

“No Kirishima, just leave it.” Yaoyorozu sighed, clearing her own breakfast away.“Let him do it tonight.”

 

“Midoryia…” Uraraka said, tugging at her best friends shirt slightly. “You’re going to eat that yoghurt, right?”

 

Midoryia looked at her blankly for a moment, before shaking himself. 

 

“Yeah! Sorry, I forgot.”

 

“Planet Earth.” Sero said, catching Midoryia’s confused expression. 

 

“Wha..?”

 

“We’re on Planet Earth, yeah?” He replied, getting out of his seat and laughing at Midoryia’s blank face. “Clueless.”

 

Iida whined at that. 

 

—

 

The tension between Bakugou and Midoryia didn’t lessen throughout the week, much to Class 1A’s despair. 

 

They expected it from Bakugou. Midoryia however… Well, that meant something was wrong. And whether that was just between the two childhood friends of the class or with Midoryia himself, 1A would be damnned if they didn’t try and fix it.

 

Yaoyorozu ended up banning him from running with her and Todoroki in the mornings, and Iida eventually banned him from coffee.

 

“Five coffee’s in one day is unacceptable!” he’d yelled when the following Sunday he’d found Midoryia sifting through the cupboards at midday. 

 

“It’s not five coffee’s, because I haven’t had the fifth yet, because you keep on hiding the coffee.” Midoryia pointed out, his arms crossed. 

 

It would have been a defiant stance if he didn’t look dead inside, wavering in his place.

 

“You’ll turn into Aizawa-Sensei.” Ashido sang, as she skipped past them and jumped onto the sofa beside Todoroki and Koda. 

 

“No I won’t! I don’t have an attitude problem!” Midoryia argued, his voice whining. 

 

“You’re starting to.” Iida huffed under his breath, turning away.

 

“I heard that!” Midoryia called. “Where’s the coffee?” 

 

“Why don’t you eat something instead?” Ojiro asked, walking past him. “Or sleep?”

 

“Novel idea.” Sero added with a grin. 

 

“Why are you being so mean?” Midoryia yawned with a pout.

 

“Because you’re being an idiot, dude!” Sero replied. “Look. After. Yourself. Man, I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately.”

 

“We’re just worried, okay?” Yaoyorozu added, turning from where she was beside Todoroki. She nudged him gently. “Aren’t we?” 

 

Todoroki looked up from where he was watching the TV and turned. 

 

“Not everyone is as efficient on such little sleep than me.” he said swiftly, before turning back to the TV screen. 

 

Yaoyorozu sighed. 

 

“A few of us were thinking about revising at the coffee shop just out of campus, at like two?” She continued. “Why don’t you skip the coffee for now, have a power nap, and you can come out with us and work then?”

 

Midoryia frowned at that, looking around at his classmates. 

 

“Okay…” 

 

“Thank you.” Yaoyorozu replied graciously.

 

“Sweet dreams!” Ashido called as Midoryia turned back to the stairs. 

 

“Have a good nap!” Sero added. 

 

As Midoryia waved them off, Bakugou entered the room. He stopped, just short of Midoryia, and scowled. 

 

“What are you fucking looking at?” he growled as Midoryia looked up, eyebrow raised. 

 

“Go away, Kacchan.”

 

“Don’t call me that. Idiot.”

 

Midoryia’s expression changed. 

 

“Kacchan. Kacchan. Kacchan.”

 

Bakugou saw red, pushing Midoryia back slightly as Kirishima came around the corner. 

 

“Bakugou stop it!” Iida cried. “Just let him go to bed.”

 

“Don’t fucking call me that, golden boy.” Bakugou said, ignoring Iida. 

 

Midoryia opened his mouth to speak, but instead pulled a feint, stepping forward swiftly and pushing Bakugou in return. Harder. The explosive teen wasn’t expecting it and ended up losing his footing, tripping backwards into the doorframe. Kirishima caught him with one hand, his eyebrows furrowing at Midoryia. 

 

“Hey, Midoryia, what the hell?” he asked, not unkindly, as Bakugou shoved his hand away, righting himself. 

 

“Don’t push me you idiot.” he hissed, stepping into Midoryia’s personal space. 

 

“Don’t push me first then.” Midoryia replied, pulling away and past the two without an apology. 

 

“YOU BASTARD!” Bakugou yelled in his wake. 

 

“KACCHAN, KACCHAN, KACCHAN, KACCHAN!” 

 

Kirishima held Bakugou back with one rock arm. 

 

“Yanno Bakugou, that wasn’t really helpful.” Sero stated. 

 

“What’s wrong with fuck-face?” Bakugou hissed, stalking off into the kitchen. 

 

“Beats us.” Ojiro replied. “He won’t talk.”

 

“Idiot, bastard, fucking idiot.” Bakugou snapped under his breath. “WHERE THE FUCK’S THE COFFEE?”

 

“In the oven.” Iida replied. 

 

“Stop shouting.” Todoroki called, pointing to the TV. “I’m trying to watch ‘Kaji 100’. He has the same voice as me.”

 

“That’s the only reason you watch it, isn’t it?” Ashido giggled. 

 

“No.” Todoroki replied. “Koda likes it as well.”

 

“Do you?” Ashido asked the boy.

 

Koda shrugged. 

 

— 

 

By the start of the next week, things had turned into ‘operation keep Midroyia as far away from Bakugou as possible’. 

 

It was getting unbearable.

 

In fact, much to everyone's surprise, Midoriya was getting unbearable. He wasn’t as irritable anymore, unless Bakugou was in the room, but he’d almost just sort of… shut off. 

 

No one knew which one was worse. 

 

Uraraka had found his room key lying on the floor one afternoon whilst Midoriya was out training. Her and Iida had concluded that he must have dropped it on the way out of the door. They then decided that it would probably be alright if they returned it to their best friend by putting it on his desk. 

 

Then they decided that it would also probably be alright if they were to clean up a bit and maybe, just maybe, sort some of his washing out. 

 

So they did. Purposefully avoiding Bakugou as they did. The last thing they needed was for him to find out that someone else was doing his laundry for him. 

 

Petty as it sounded, no one could be bothered to deal with Bakugou right now. 

 

Finals were in three weeks. 

 

“Ah. You’re worried about him as well.” Tokoyami stated when he noticed the pair come into the laundry room.

 

They turned hastily, before realising it was just Tokoyami and relaxing. 

 

“Isn’t everyone?” Uraraka asked, piling her best friends bedsheets into the washing machine. 

 

“We were thinking, me Ojiro, Shoji, Mineta.” Tokoyami started. “When do we stage an intervention?”

 

“An intervention?” Iida asked.

 

“Sit Midoryia down and tell him that he’s going to fail at this rate. Then, if he doesn’t do something, we’ll tell Aizawa.” Tokoyami explained. 

 

“I would have thought Aizawa-Sensei would already know.” Uraraka shrugged, turning the dials on the machine. “Deku’s been really weird in all of his lessons as well.” 

 

“All Might then.” Tokoyami replied. “Or at least get him to tell us what’s really going on.”

 

“All Might has just gone back to America.” Iida stated. “To visit David Shields.” 

 

“The scientist guy from I-Island.” Uraraka reminded him. 

 

“Inconvenient.” Tokoyami replied. “We’ll just have to do something on our own then.”

 

“We’ll have to make sure Bakugou’s out of the way first.” Uraraka sighed. “Their rivalry has been pretty bad since they were on house arrest.”

 

“I don’t think we should fear Bakugou.” Tokoyami reasoned. “He’s clearly part of the problem, therefore he may be part of the solution.”

 

“I think it’s an option we might have to take.” Iida sighed, pushing up his glasses. “Midoryia’s condition is not getting any better. His grades may be steady, but his temperament… I’m worried he might start to lose one of the most valuable aspects he has when it comes to being a better hero than Bakugou.”

 

“What?” Uraraka asked as the two got ready to leave. 

 

“Not having a dreadful personality.” Iida replied before turning to leave the room. 

 

“Are you coming with?” Uraraka asked as she followed him out. 

 

“No, I’m going to hang out here for a bit.” Tokoyami replied, sitting himself out on the floor and pulling his English textbook out from his own laundry basket. “It’s quiet. And a change of scenery.”

 

Uraraka laughed lightly as she took the open door from Iida. 

 

“You’re funny.” she smiled. 

 

“No I’m not, I’m Tokoyami.” he replied with a small grin, pulling a pencil from behind his ear. “Don’t worry about Midoryia’s washing, I’ll put it in the dryer when it’s done.”

 

“Thank you Tokoyami-kun.” Iida bowed slightly. “That’s generous of you.”

 

“I try.” Tokoyami replied, his head burrowed in English phrases. “See you later.”

 

“Later!” Uraraka called as the door swung shut behind her. She turned to Iida, who was already looking down at her. “An intervention, huh?”

 

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” he reasoned. 

 

“Yeah… I guess we’ll see how he is.” Uraraka replied. 

 

The two secretly prayed for Midoryia’s return to the real world. 

 

— 

 

It didn’t happen. 

 

Midoryia just seemed to get more and more stressed. A sort of silent rise in tension that was putting everyone on edge. 

 

Especially Bakugou. 

 

Their latest argument was about a pair of disposable chopsticks. 

 

Even Koda was trying his hardest not to set wasps on them at this point.

 

Most of Class 1A avoided the common areas for revision, taking to their rooms or the coffee shops. The only classmates that dared to invite either Bakugou or Midoryia to come revise with them were Kirishima and Uraraka. Even Iida had concluded that it wasn’t worth wasting good revision time on. 

 

Tokoyami’s threat of an intervention was looming. 

 

The following Tuesday, in one of the classes ‘stricly-no-Bakugou-or-Midoryia-allowed’ revision coffee sessions, and much to their surprise, the door of the local coffee shop burst open to reveal Bakugou.

 

“Sorry!” Kirishima hissed from across the table they were sat at. “I think I may have given it away when he asked me where I was off to this evening.”

 

“It’s fine.” Ojiro sighed, watching Bakugou stride over to the counter and order a drink. “We’ll just keep our heads down and work.”

 

The class reluctantly agreed, ducking their heads down as their explosive classmate approached them. 

 

Bakugou set his drink on the table with a thud, waiting for the class to look up at him. 

 

“When are we sorting out fuck-face?” he asked suddenly. “Also the barista with the pink pixie cut is from London. You idiots should ask her to help you with English.”

 

Eighteen mouths gaped open. 

 

“Stop looking at me like that you half-wits.” Bakugou snarled, taking a seat. “So? Fuck-face? When’s he getting a reality check?”

 

“A reality check?” Shoji asked, the first to speak. 

 

“You idiots are hiding from him in a cafe.” Bakugou retorted. 

 

“We’re also hiding from yo-“ Todoroki started before Hagakure clamped his mouth shut. 

 

Bakugou glared, but said nothing, slurping the froth off of the top of his latte. 

 

“So?” he asked, the class looking around at one another. 

 

“Tonight.” Tokoyami finally replied. “We’ll do it tonight.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Bakugou stood up.

 

“Where are you going?” Asui called after him, didn’t you want to revise?”

 

“With you idiots? Fuck that.” Bakugou retorted. “I’m going to practice my conversational English.”

 

“He’s going to talk to the hottie…”  Mineta gasped, rising in his chair. 

 

Shoji pulled him down again. 

 

“Well, that was weird.” Sero confirmed, turning a page in his textbook. 

 

The rest of the class remained silent. 

 

—

 

Midoryia was absolutely fucked. 

 

Finals were in two and a half days. Well, eleven days. Eleven days and thirteen and a half hours to be exact. If he only slept for four hours a night every day from now until his first exam, that would give him 220 hours to revise in. Minus going to the toilet and lunchtime, maybe 200 hours? 

 

That would be fine. Surely. He wasn’t really too worried about his exams. He wasn’t failing. He was just worried about the lack of sleep affecting his memory. Or the other things Iida mentioned. 

 

Because he couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t even as if he had a choice anymore. The voices in his head wouldn’t let him sleep. There was something inside of him. Like a message, something One for All was trying to tell him. Or at least he hoped it was.

 

He hadn’t really told anyone about the ‘voices’ in his head. They weren’t even really voices as such, just an overwhelming, impending sense of doom. 

 

Midoriya almost wished whatever it was, would get itself over and done with before finals started. Because nothing could jeopardise his place at UA. Nothing. 

 

Hence the extra revising.

 

Also, All Might was out of the country now. That didn’t help. It was the fact that he didn’t have anyone to confide in. The only other person who knew, was Bakugou. 

 

Bakugou was impossible.

 

Bakugou was pissing him off. 

 

Because Bakugou knew. And instead of helping him, he was still holding the same childish attitude, except this time it was mingled with jealousy as well. 

 

Keeping secrets was hard. Keeping secrets and studying for finals was harder. 

 

Training was the only thing that allowed the sense of doom to fade. 

 

So, that’s what Midoryia did. He trained, whenever he wasn’t revising. Then got four hours of broken, nightmarish sleep, chugged coffee and repeated. 

 

It wasn’t good. He knew it wasn’t good. 

 

Part of him hoped it would get better after finals were over but in reality, not having exams to prepare for would just remove a distraction from whatever was happening to his quirk. And that thought alone was terrifying. 

 

So, Midoryia refused to think about that. 

 

A few days ago, he’d passed out whilst running. Luckily, it was on the grass, and nearly midnight so no one had seen him. God forbid someone like Uraraka walking in on that scene. But it was enough. Enough to really scare him. 

 

Midoriyia was at breaking point. And the only two people who would understand why, were both completely unavailable. Whether that was physically or emotionally. It didn’t really matter. 

 

On Tuesday evening he crept into the kitchen an hour after dinner. He’d worked out, from the last couple of weeks, that this was the quietest time to sneak coffee or food, anything really. 

 

Anything apart from sleeping tablets. Sure they would knock him out, getting a full seven hours of sleep felt like a dream. But he was too scared of what would happen if he wasn’t in control. He didn’t want to lose control of his quirk. He couldn’t afford to do that now. 

 

His creeping however, lasted a little less than two seconds, for as soon as he’d entered the common area he came face to face with his entire class. 

 

His entire class. Which included Bakugou. 

 

“Evening Midoryia.” Tokoyami smiled. Which was unnerving in itself. 

 

“E-e-evening..?” 

 

“We were thinking of watching a movie.” Uraraka smiled. An innocent smile, her eyebrows furrowed in a nervous way. It made Midoryia sink into the floor slightly. 

 

“I have to revise...” he replied quietly.

 

It was a shit excuse and no one was buying it. But Midoryia could already feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, his heart rate speeding up. 

 

“At least come at talk to us. Just for a minute.” 

 

Yaoyoruzu’s tone was like his mother’s. Soft, but not up for discussion.  She’d already made space for him on the sofa, Jiro had slid down to the floor, looking up at him. Eyes wide. 

 

Midoryia didn’t have a choice. 

 

“Okay.” 

 

He slipped between the sofas, the silence of his entire class weighing on him. Looking around, he could tell some of them didn’t want to be there. Sato looked as if he probably had better things to do, Mineta and Shoji the same. Like hell were they going to watch a movie. The TV wasn’t even on. 

 

Midoryia had never felt more like a burden in his entire life. And he couldn’t even give them the answers he wanted. 

 

The feeling of dread was rising, like a hot flush of energy. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was going red. His ears, at least, were probably crimson. 

 

“Midoryia we’re worried about you.” Yaoyorozu interrupted his thoughts, her eyes searching for his. “You haven’t been yourself.”

 

“You haven’t been anything vaguely like yourself.” Sero added, leaning back in the sofa. “It’s unnerving.” 

 

“I’m really sorry.” he started, trying to calm the adrenaline that was stinging in his chest. 

 

“It’s okay.” Jiro reassured him gently. “We just want to know what’s got you so worked up.” 

 

“Yeah, you’ve never been like this.” Kirishima added awkwardly, tapping his thumb and forefinger together. “And the whole sleep thing as well. Like, what if you burn out and can’t take your exams or something?” 

 

Midoryia gulped slightly, feeling his forehead start to glisten. “With finals coming up and all the extra training with All Might... I guess I’m just really stressed.” He replied softly. 

 

“We get that.” Ashido replied. “We do.” 

 

“Well, kind of.” Kaminari interrupted, sighing and flicking his hair out of his eyes. “But no one else has been like... well an arsehole about it. Even Bakugou. Well, no more than normal anyway.”

 

“Denki!” Jiro cried, turning round to slap the boy on the leg. 

 

“What?! We might as well say it now! This is what this intervention was for!” he retorted. 

 

Midoryia felt the feeling of dread hit his throat, coming and going in waves, his legs twitching uncontrollably. 

 

“Have I been an... arsehole?” 

 

The word felt thick in his mouth. He swallowed, looking around at his classmates. Who weren’t looking back at him. 

 

“Arsehole is not the word I’d use.” Yaoyorozu was quick to reply, turning for a split second to glare at Kaminari. “But you’ve been...“

 

“Difficult to be friends with.” Uraraka finished in a voice louder than she intended. She cowered slightly, fiddling with her hair. “I’m sorry Deku we didn’t know how to tell you...” 

 

Midoryia felt his eyes water. Half the class still wasn’t looking his way. 

 

“Iida?” he asked, desperately trying to keep his voice from wavering. 

 

Iida sighed deeply, looking down at the floor for a moment, before looking up at his best friend. Eyes dark. Not unkind but not... kind. 

 

“I’ve been trying to be there for you Midoryia. I would have liked to help you revise for these upcoming exams, but it’s impossible when you don’t tell us anything that’s going on. I get that when it comes to hero work, sometimes you can’t. But this isn’t the first time you’ve pushed us away when there’s clearly something wrong and you’re not telling us. And yes, it’s hurtful.” 

 

Midoryia breathed deeply. Through his nose. So no one could see how close he was to crying. 

 

“I’m really sorry...” he began, trailing off as he realised he had nothing else to say. 

 

“We’re not trying to come across as if we’re attacking you.” Tokoyami reasoned. 

 

“We just need you to understand.” Ojiro took over, his tail curling around him, Kaminari grabbing onto it instinctively. “We care about you Midoryia. And because of that, this is affecting us. And it’s finals, in what, a fortnight? It’s not really fair.” 

 

Ojiro looked up for a split second, catching Midoryia’s line of sight before playing with the floor mat again. Kaminari made knots with his tail hair. 

 

“We just care about you...” Asui repeated. “And we’re worried. Like, really worried.” 

 

“I’m okay guys.” Midoryia protested, trying desperately to reassure his friends. To keep the feeling of total utter despair from engulfing him. 

 

Instead, 1A turned away, sighing. The girls looked dejected, Iida looked angry, and Bakugou was livid. 

 

“Yeah fucking right you are.” he snapped. 

 

“Stop it. Kacchan.” Midoryia replied, turning to face him, his eyes focused. Trying to convey any sort of message that he could. 

 

He. Wasn’t. Okay. 

 

Bakugou just scoffed, his voice bitter. 

 

“Why are you fucking angry with me?! You don’t snap at anyone else!”

 

“Stop it!”

 

“No you fuckwit, you stop it! Stop trying to act the fucking victim then if you’re so fine.” 

 

“I’m not!” 

 

Midoryia’s voice was breaking now. He could feel his hands going clammy as his vision darkened. Whatever One for All had been building up for over these past weeks, it was going to happen now if he didn’t get out of there fast. 

 

“You fucking are! You’re just being fucking selfish!” Bakugou yelled back, standing up. 

 

Midoryia stood at the same time, hoping he could just make a run for it, explain himself later. But his whole body felt as if it was covered in pins and needles, piercing to the extent of being painful. 

 

“Go away Kacchan!” he cried, willing his legs to move. 

 

“STOP. CALLING ME KACCHAN!” Bakugou yelled, a few of the boys getting up behind him. Midoryia couldn’t make out who. He couldn’t see anything but Kacchan. “You useless, good for nothing, quirkless idiot.” 

 

And suddenly his vision cleared. 

 

Bakugou must have realised it as well as his expression dropped. 

 

That was an old insult and it hit Midoryia with a feeling of nostalgia he couldn’t place. A feeling he’d give anything to travel to again. 

 

“Quirkless?” Hagakure asked, her tone light. “What?!” 

 

“Could you imagine Midoryia quirkless?” Ashido scoffed slightly from somewhere to the side of him. “He’s like, the most powerful student at UA.” 

 

Usually, Midoryia would have taken that as a compliment, but as One for All took control of his body once more, he just felt more and more distanced from his friends beside him. From everyone. 

 

He was the most powerful student at UA? With a quirk that wasn’t his, that he couldn’t control and didn’t have the support for. Because it wasn’t like All Might was going to be around forever. And Bakugou hated him. And there was no one else. No one. 

 

The voices continued behind him. He could tell who was speaking at this point. They were all a swirl of mismatched pitches drumming in his ears, mingling with the voices inside his own head. 

 

“Midoryia got his quirk late though, didn’t you?” 

 

“I heard like only a year before he enrolled.”

 

“So was he quirkless for the entire time you guys were at school Bakugou?” 

 

“Don’t tell me you called him quirkless back then bro.” 

 

“You can’t say that. It’s rude to the people who are actually quirkless.”

 

“My cousin is quirkless. For real though. She was born without this bone in her foot or something.” 

 

Midoryia felt it before it hit. A white sort of pain, travelling up from his feet to his head. He saw the flash of green out of the corner of his vision, his eyes desperately grappling for Bakugou’s. 

 

“Kacchan...” he managed to muddle together, watching the boy turn in his direction, face of thunder, before everything went black. 

 

“STOP FUCKING CALLING ME... shit... shitshitshitshitshit.” 

 

Bakugou tripped over his own feet in an attempt to step backwards. Class 1A turned to watch him do so, instinctively pulling away themselves. 

 

“Bakugou what’s up..?” Jiro started, before spotting Midoryia. “Oh... Midoryia?” 

 

The class followed her eyes to see Midoryia openly crying in front of them. His eyes fixed on Bakugou. 

 

“Shit is he okay?!” Sero asked, getting up as Uraraka dashed forwards. 

 

“NO!” 

 

Bakugou jumped forward, pulling her out of the way. “STEP BACK!”

 

“Why?!” Yaoyorozu cried, standing up, but not moving from her place. 

 

Bakugou snarled slightly under his breath as he fought Uraraka’s struggling in his arms. 

 

Midoryia was staring at him, eyes green and flashing. One for All was somehow inside of his body and its energy wasn’t escaping. 

 

Stupid, quirkless Deku wouldn’t be able to handle its power for long, that much was apparent from his fucking face. 

 

And Bakugou didn’t know what to do. 

 

“Call All Might!” he called out in desperation. 

 

“Bakugou, what’s gotten into you?!” Iida snapped. “Let go of Uraraka!”

 

“All Might’s not in the country.” Tokoyami reminded him, his voice level. “Bakugou, what’s up?” 

 

“Midoryia, what’s wrong?!” Hagakure asked from directly in front of him. 

 

Stupid invisible bitch had escaped his vision. Bakugou didn’t have enough fucking hands. And no one else knew what was going on. 

 

“It... h-hurts...” Midoryia managed to make out, his voice gasping for air, changing pitches. 

 

“Oh my God... your eyes...” Hagakure eventually managed, finally taking a step back. “What’s wrong with his eyes..?”

 

Bakugou could still feel Midoryia’s stare on him. Hear the pain in his voice. 

 

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Stupid. Fucking. Deku. Bakugou hated him so much. He hated him. Hated him. Hated him. 

 

More of the class was moving forward, trying to reach out, help Midoryia, get him to come to. 

 

They needed to move. 

 

“GET AIZAWA!” he screamed, letting go of Uraraka momentarily to pull Hagakure away. “NOW!” 

 

There was a split second of stillness before Tokoyami ran off, out of the corridor, Dark Shadow escaping to follow him. 

 

“Deku!” 

 

This time Uraraka did escape Bakugou’s hold, lunging forward toward her best friend, tears brimming in her own eyes. 

 

“STOP!” Bakugou screamed, his voice cracking. “HE’S LOST CONTRO-“

 

But Bakugou didn’t get to finish his sentence before Midoryia imploded into light. 

Notes:

Also, we've just surpassed 350 subs to this work.

HOLY SHIT ?!?!?!?!?!?!

If you've seen anyone mention this work on another site, heard about this work from someone else etc, etc, I'd love to know so I can give you all a massive hug. Because I don't know any other way this work could have gotten so popular haha.

Chapter 34: Loosing Control of an Entire Manifestation

Summary:

I feel like any summery here would spoil the chapter...

;)

PLEASE READ THE BEGINNING NOTES

Notes:

OKAY SO...

This chapter was very hard to write. I wrote about 15,000 words and have been re-editing them all week alongside Purplemalemute.

Basically, I'm not happy with the quality of the second half. I know I can do better, and with a chapter like this, I want to do it justice.

So I'm throwing the schedule out of the window for a week.

I just need to re-write parts of the second half, I don't have time right now, I'm in a new play in London BUT it should be ready in the next couple of days.

So you won't have to wait a week.

It'll be Monday, latest.

I am so sorry.

REGARDLESS, enjoy what I have so far. It's still a decent chapter length. And hopefully should be good writing.

Thank you for being patient x

BOOM

 

The noise from the explosion was muffled by the ceiling, but the force it omitted was powerful. 

 

Even from Aizawa’s room, the lamp above his head started swinging back and forth, dust falling from the fitting. The desk he sat at rattling slightly. The ‘3’ he was writing on Jiro’s recent test paper turning into an oddly shaped ‘2’ as his pen shook in his hand. 

 

The homeroom teacher blew air through his nostrils in annoyance.  

 

Explosions were… not unusual for 1A but, still. He sighed deeply. Resigning himself to the fact that he would probably have to make sure that nobody was killing themselves up there.

 

It didn’t sound like Bakugou’s quirk. The kid was usually in bed by now anyway. In fact, most of them were at least in their rooms by this time of the night.

 

Aizawa couldn’t tell if that was a silver lining in this situation or not.

 

He was pulling away from his desk, cracking his knuckles, debating various punishments in his head when the screaming started. 

 

His adrenaline kicked in. Just below the ribcage. 

 

Those weren’t the screams of teenagers mucking about. 

 

Those screams were real.

 

At once he was up, pushing away from his chair and fumbling with his capture weapon. Not bothering to loop it around his neck, he used his leg to kick his door open. 

 

His mind reeling through the possible paths to the common area. 

 

Taking the lift would be the quickest route but stairs were the safer option. Because if someone had broken in then that’s where they would take the opportunity to trap him…But that was only if-

 

Aizawa’s train of thought was interrupted as he collided into Tokoyami running in the opposite direction to him. They both jumped back, catching themselves, Dark Shadow whistling past them in a frenzy.

 

“Tokoyami-?” Aizawa started.

 

“-It’s Midoryia.” Tokoyami interrupted quickly, barely stopping for breath. “Something with his quirk. His eyes were glowing? Green? He’s in pain. Bakugou told me to-“

 

“Where?” 

 

Tokoyami took a breath, his eyes frantic, turning back towards the stairway.

 

“Common area.”

 

Aizawa pulled past him immediately, taking the stairs, two at a time. He threw himself through the door, his eyes widening.

 

The hallway on the second floor was glowing with green. Energy, almost like electricity, crackling and pulsing across the floor under his feet. 

 

Another explosion caught both him and Tokoyami off guard, this time the ground shuddering underfoot, heat drifting towards them down the corridor. 

 

Dark Shadow howled at the light, pulling Tokoyami forwards.

 

“Get behind me!” Aizawa called to him as Tokoyami tensed his shoulders trying to get Dark Shadow to return.

 

He could recognize that explosion from anywhere. That explosion was Bakugou.

 

Shit.

 

Bakugou was reckless but he knew the rules. He wouldn’t be using the full force of his quirk unless he needed to defend himself. Or anyone else…

 

Aizawa had seen Midoryia’s quirk go haywire before. But this…

 

This was inhuman.

 

—

 

“FIGHT ME!” Bakugou screamed, his palms rising up at the glowing form of Midoryia.

 

“BAKUGOU! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PLAYING AT?!” 

 

Bakugou didn’t even notice Iida shouting, as his classmate, alongside Shoji, pulled Uraraka out from the firing line. Instead, Bakugou stepped in front of them, using his body as a shield, allowing them time to get away. 

 

It was as if Midoryia was covered in fire. He was still stood in front of Bakugou, but his body was taut, stretched out, joints locked. Green lighting stretched through his veins, growing more and more intense the closer they got to his heart, beating and pulsing in time with his quickened breathing.

 

His eyes were engulfed in electricity, pupils fixed on the ceiling as the manifestation of One for All lifted him up, above the floor. It branched out of his arms, off of his fingertip, green lightning pulsing around the sofas, catching the fabric. Electric flames licking at the floorboards.

 

“DEKU!” Uraraka cried out in protest from behind Bakugou. One arm was still covering the side of her face from where she’d been caught by the power. A thin gash, raw red skin, indicated where she’d been burnt. 

 

Todoroki came to her aid, covering a hand over her cheek and issuing his quirk to create frost. Bakugou caught her from the corner of his vision, protesting, Iida holding her back.

 

“I’m fine- Let. Me. Go! DEKU!” 

 

“FIGHT ME YOU DAMN NERD! GIVE ME ALL YOU’VE GOT!” Bakugou yelled, joining her cries.

 

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, lowering his stance, his eyes flickering across Midoriya’s figure. Trying to get it’s attention.

 

Its. Bakugou wasn’t sure if Midoryia was in there anymore. 

 

The rest of the class had scattered to the far corners of the common area, shielding the eyes from the light. 

 

Bakugou watched as green light pulsed from him, penetrating through his clothing, his mouth, his eyes. Every muscle in his body was tense, shaking from the fatigue, his hands rising, jerking towards his throat as his pupils dilated. 

 

“CAN HE BREATHE?!” Kaminari shouted over the noise. 

 

“What’s happening?!” Shoji added from behind. “Is his quirk manifesting or something?!”

 

“BAKUGOU! What do we do?!” Yaoyorozu yelled. She was crouched, one arm extended, quirk activating. She was creating a shield, pulling it over Jiro and a few others behind her.

 

“I think he’s trying to distract him!” Iida called, replying on behalf of Bakugou, still holding Uraraka back. “Without endangering ourselves, we should try and do the same!” 

 

“Just be careful!” Kirishima yelled. 

 

“I SAID FIGHT ME!” 

 

Bakugou ignored his classmates, his eyes focusing on Midoriya. The teenager was gasping for breath, trying to reply. He was clawing, not at his neck, but at some imaginary grip on it. Trying to lower his head to face Bakugou. 

 

But he wasn’t winning. Bakugou could see that. Weeks of not properly taking care of himself had compromised the fight in him. He was fighting a losing battle. 

 

Bakugou was not going to let him.

 

“SHOW ME WHAT YOU’RE MADE OF YOU STUPID PIECE OF SH-“ 

 

He was cut off by Kirishima barrelling into him, arms up and quirk activated. 

 

“Argh! You’re going to hurt yourself bro!” he cried. “Just wait for Aizawa!” 

 

“We can’t!” Bakugou replied, not risking turning back to the red-head. “He’s getting fucking consumed!”

 

“How is you shouting at him helping!” Kirishima snapped at his best friend. Bakugou ignored him. 

 

Distracting Midoryia was working. One for All was still completely covering his body but as it crisscrossed over him it divulged towards Bakugou. And only Bakugou.

 

It had a target. As long as he could keep it that way, the rest of the class would be safe.

 

“I’ve got it!” A voice cried from the side of them. Mineta. The boy had crawled his way under a chair, arm reaching towards his head. It would have been heroic, but Bakugou could see One for All charging. See the disaster waiting to happen. 

 

So did Kirishima. 

 

“Mineta! NO!” 

 

The red-head launched himself in the smaller boys direction just as Mineta threw one of his sticky balls. His aim was perfect, arching in the air and hitting Midoryia in the temple. 

 

The reaction was immediate. Midoryia’s body twisted without him even realizing it, his eyes not following until the last second. One for All surged through his arms, green light arching in Mineta’s path. 

 

This was One for All, that was obvious. But this wasn’t All Might’s quirk. This was something completely new…

 

And Bakugou couldn’t attack in time to stop it.

 

Kirishima got there first, his arms lifted to protect his classmate. He took the full force of Midoryia’s quirk which blasted him backward, the side of the sofa breaking his fall. 

 

Kirishima’s screamed. Coupled with the hissing of burning flesh and the thud of his landing, Bakugou felt bile rise in his throat. 

 

He couldn’t see if he was okay. Not without bringing the fight between him and Deku closer towards the rest of 1A.

 

“You said to distract him!” Mineta cried, his voice breaking as 1A clamored over the sofa’s to Kirishima’s side 

 

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Bakugou screamed, his voice breaking.

 

Midoriya’s head turned back in Bakugou’s direction, openly crying, sobbing as the attack drove some sanity into him. His eyes finally devoid of light. Bakugou barely registered it, however, driving forward and blasting his palms up into Midoriya’s face. Not caring for the consequences.

 

One for All got there first, however. Defending the idiot with a mind of its own. Green energy ricocheting off Bakugou’s hands, hitting back with such a counterforce that Bakugou had to use the wall, two meters behind, to regain his balance. 

 

And it hurt. Bakugou’s palms took the brunt of it, the smell of his own burning skin hitting his nostrils. 

 

“WAS IT WORTH IT?” he continued to yell.

 

“Kacc...han...” 

 

But Bakugou drew nearer, squinting up at Midoriya. He focused on his pupils, the only place not shrouded in One for All’s sickening manifestation. He forced his palms to crackle through the pain, at least signifying to the power inside Deku that he wasn’t playing around. 

 

“WAS IT WORTH GETTING A QUIRK FOR THIS?!” he screamed, his voice cracking from the pressure, blasting upwards again. 

 

This time he made contact with his target. Midoriya freed an arm, lifting it to protect his head. It stayed there for a split second before being forced back to his side. One for All taking back it’s devastating control. 

 

Bakugou flexed his hands, arms shaking, bracing himself once more. 

 

Class 1A kept to the edges of the room. Bakugou could see Uraraka trying to escape Iida’s grip, Ashido and Kaminari trying to get to his aid, Sero pulling them back with his quirk.

 

They couldn’t get close. It was too soon. Midoryia still didn’t have control.

 

“GO ON! TELL ME!” 

 

There were a few yells, some cries for help. Bakugou let them pass from one ear to the other. 

 

He had to keep the idiot's attention on him. It was too risky otherwise. And he didn’t know how much more he could take.

 

Bakugou lowered his stance once more, looked straight up. 

 

And launched himself forwards.

 

“YOU QUIRKLESS BASTARD!”

 

“I’M NOT QUIRKLESS ANYMORE!”

 

Midoriya’s voice echoed through the common area, splitting and mingling in pitches. Bakugou could hear two voices speaking, then three, four. They overlapped each other as the light grew in intensity, forced Bakugou to clamp his eyes shut, powering himself forwards, his hands in front of his face. He felt his palms grow white with heat, pain. His quirk or Deku’s he wasn’t sure, but it was enough to cause him to cry out. He turned his scream into a battle cry, hoping, praying this would stop. 

 

And it did. 

 

All of a sudden. 

 

The light was the first to vanish, Bakugou opening his eye just in time to pull his palms back. He landed badly, falling over his ankle and breaking his fall with one arm on the coffee table. 

 

Red shone from the entrance of the common area just as Midoriya, empty, collapsed like a sack of potatoes on the floor beside him. 

 

The room fell silent. Save the muffled crying from 1A.

 

“Bastard.”

 

Because it was the first word that came to Bakugou’s mind. 

 

“Everyone stay where you are!” 

 

Aizawa’s voice rang clear as their teacher strode forward to the unconscious Midoriya. As he bent down to turn him over Bakugou attempted to get up. HIs palms were red raw and bleeding so he used his elbow to try and prop himself up on the coffee table. However, soon as he put pressure on his ankle he gave way, landing back on the ground with a thud. 

 

“Son of a bitch.”

 

“Bakugou. Stay where you are.” Aizawa snapped, without looking up from Midoriya. “Someone get a fire extinguisher!”

 

There was a pause before Bakugou felt the cold of foam, Sato spraying the surrounding area, putting out the remaining flames from both Bakugou and Midoriya’s quirks.

 

“Kirishima!” he yelled across the room, his voice hoarse. “You alive?”

 

“Unfortunately for you!” His best friend cried back. His tone gave away just how much pain he was in, but Bakugou appreciated the joke nevertheless. 

 

“Bakugou…”

 

Bakugou turned to his right to see Uraraka beside him. The burn on her face was blistering, her left eye crying from the laceration. Red marks littered her arms where Iida had been holding her back but her gaze was focused. 

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Bakugou faltered momentarily. That was a question he’d expected her to ask Deku but looking to the side of him he could understand why she hadn’t. 

 

Midoriya was ashen, the color drained from his face, drenched in sweat. Aizawa had two fingers held to the side of his neck, his other hand clutched onto his capture weapon. Urgently. 

 

“I’m okay.” Bakugou replied, waving the girl off and focusing on breathing. On not throwing up as the adrenaline wore off. His ankle and hands were throbbing. 

 

“He’s breathing.” Aizawa announced, looking up finally to search around the room. “Ashido, Hagakure. Get Recovery Girl, she should still be in her office. Ojiro. Medical kit.”

 

“Yes, Sensei.” Ojiro replied quietly, the two girls running off behind him. 

 

Aizawa had already started to lift the uncharacteristically limp from of Midoryia onto the sofa behind them. 

 

“Todoroki, I need some heat. He’s cold. Too cold.”

 

Todoroki attempted to speak, failing at first before clearing his throat. Stumbling over to the scene.

 

“Yes, Aizawa-Sensei.”

 

“The rest of you stay put.” Aizawa continued. “Who’s injured?”

 

“Kirishima, Bakugou and Uraraka.” Someone spoke from the far off distance. 

 

Bakugou tried to focus for a moment but his vision blurred again. 

 

“Bakugou.”

 

He came to, Aizawa staring him in the face. 

 

“Stay with us. I don’t need you passing out on me as well.”

 

“‘m not gunna.” 

 

Aizawa wasn’t buying a word of it but Bakugou couldn’t be bothered to argue. 

 

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” 

 

Aizawa’s face was replaced by that of Tokoyami’s. The boy looked less concerned than their teacher. More amused. Fake as it was.

 

“Oh. Is you.” Bakugou slurred.

 

“Is me indeed.” 

 

There was a hint of humor in the teen's voice as he spoke but Bakugou could hear it through gritted teeth. He tried to crane his neck, to see behind him but Tokoyami also turned. Purposefully blocking his view.

 

“How bad’s it?” Bakugou pressed, watching his classmate turn back. From the side, he could see Uraraka with a bag of ice cubes plastered to her face.

 

The best they could do in a crisis.

 

“I never liked the decor in here anyway.” Tokoyami shrugged, before grinning as genuinely as he could. “Now. Where does it hurt?”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“Ahh…” he replied, the humor in his tone distracting from the state of the room around them. “Your pride.”

 

—

 

Seven hours later and Bakugou was staring at the ceiling of his room. 

 

Ashido had brought stick on stars from a Daiso store in Tokyo a few weeks ago. She’d barged into his room that same evening and insisted that she stuck the remaining ones on his celling. 

 

She’d stuck them in the shape of a giant ‘あ’. 

 

Idiot. 

 

He stuck his palms in the air, inspecting them in the moonlight. Recovery Girl had bandaged them up so that just the tips of his fingers remained. A few spots of blood were seeping through the white but that was probably from the amount that Bakugou had been flexing his hands.

 

He liked the pain somewhat. It reminded him he was alive. 

 

And had been beaten by Deku. Again. 

 

Aizawa had made that particularly clear to him as they were fixing him up in the medical office. It was a close call. He’d been an idiot. 

 

Rather him than anyone else. At least shitty red hair was okay.

 

His ankle lay elevated, propped up by one of his pillows and both of Todoroki’s.

 

It was sprained. Nothing more. But he’d been too fatigued for the old woman to fully heal it. The swelling would go down over the next couple of days. 

 

Fatigued. Fuck off. His body was aching but his mind was whirring. 

 

If Midoryia couldn't handle it when One for All started manifesting, did that mean that he couldn’t control it at all anymore? Was it too much for his shitty body to handle? And if so did that mean that he would have to get rid of the power? Could Deku get rid of One for All? 

 

He could pass it onto someone else, Bakugou supposed. 

 

He’d take it in an instant. 

Especially after seeing what it could do. 

 

He could cope with it. Probably. 

 

He would hardly be the first choice as successor though, thinking about it. Some stupid third year would get it. Or another urchin that All Might picked up from off the street. 

 

Maybe Bakugou wouldn’t even get to know who got the power next. It was only by chance that he found out this time around.  

 

He placed his hands under him, grunting as he hoisted himself up into a sitting position. Leaning over to his desk, he reached as far as physically possible until his fingers grasped at the edge of his laptop. He guided the computer to the floor, letting the side thud to the ground before dragging it up the bed. 

 

Not being able to walk was annoying. 

 

It was the multiple voices thing that was getting to Bakugou. Midoryia had said he’d seen the previous users of One for All before. Was that them? 

 

No matter what happened, it was apparent that idiot Deku couldn’t tell anyone what really went on. Not without revealing One for All’s ‘big secret’.

 

He opened his emails, pressing ‘compose’.

 

Also, if it was the previous users, why did they try and hurt the rest of the class? Or was that just circumstantial? 

 

And why did they hate it when Bakugou called the idiot ‘quirkless’?

 

Or was that just because Midoryia hated it?

 

He typed quickly, forgetting formalities. 

 

To: yagitoshinori8@t.vodafone.ne.jp

From: katsukiexplosionmurder@docomo.ne.jp

 

Subject: Midoryia

 

You’ve probably already been contacted by Aizawa or somebody but Deku’s losing control of your power. 

 

It’s something to do with the previous users, I don’t know what exactly. He’s telling people it’s fine but it looks like it’s hurting him. 'Killing him' type of hurting him.

 

And it attacked people tonight. It wasn’t the same power. It was like lightning? This probably makes more sense to you.

 

I know you’re busy but you might want to come back to UA. 

 

Bakugou Katsuki.

 

As he pressed send, his hands crying out in protest, an unmistakable knock on the door caused him to jerk his head. 

 

He looked across at his clock.

 

3:46am. 

 

He almost hoped it was Kirishima. But also, Kirishima needed rest. He was the worst off, besides the green haired idiot and himself. 

 

He wasn’t in the mood for someone like Ashido to be behind the door, whatever kind of mood she was in. He didn’t have the patience for that. 

 

And God forbid it was someone like Todoroki or Ojiro. Bakugou would slam the door in their fucking face. 

 

The knocking continued. Small but urgent taps.

 

Didn’t the moron know that Bakugou’s ankle was fucked?

 

The knocking persisted.

 

Clearly not then. 

 

With another grunt, Bakugou placed his laptop to the side of him, lifting himself up and dragging his legs over to the floor. 

 

He leaned heavily on his desk, then the wall, hobbling over to the door. Pulling the handle down he hoped for Kirishima. 

 

He didn’t expect Midoryia. 

 

The teenager was also leaning against the doorframe but attempted to straighten up as the door opened. He was still in his medical gown, his feet in simple slippers. Soaked through. He was hunched over, his hair limp across his face and his eyes close to closing with fatigue. 

 

His cheeks were glistening with tears. 

 

“I’m sorry.” he started, his tone a whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you up-“

 

“What are you doing here?” Bakugou stated, cutting him off. “Why aren’t you in the medical bay?”

 

“I didn’t know what else to do.” 

 

Midoryia’s eyes filled with tears again as he attempted to furiously wipe them away.

 

“Did you walk all the way back across campus?” Bakugou replied, repositioning himself to take the weight off of his bad ankle. As he moved Midoryia grabbed onto his arms, his eyes opening fully, terrified.

 

“I can’t. It won’t let me.”

 

Bakugou stopped at that, looking down at Midoryia trying to work out what to do. What to say.

 

“You’re the only one who knows.” he continued, his voice rising slightly in volume. “I know you hate me and I know I hurt you it’s just that I-“

 

Bakugou clamped his forearm over Midoryia’s mouth, beckoning him into his room and closing the door behind them. 

 

“Shut up.” he snarled. “People are sleeping.”

 

He turned on the light with his elbow, hobbling back to his bed and ushering Midoryia to the desk chair opposite. 

 

“I don’t hate you.” he continued through gritted teeth, trying not to seem as if he was scared of the boy sat in front of him. “You’re just fucking annoying. Thanks for the fucked up ankle as well, by the way, that’s a real pain in the arse.”

 

“I’m really sorry…” Midoryia trailed off, looking down at his hands and breathing deeply. 

 

At first, Bakugou thought he just had nothing left to say but all at once he noticed the green illuminating from his eyes. Midoryia was quick to blink it back but it wiped him out, as he relied on clutching the side of the desk so as not to fall.

 

“What’s happening to you?” Bakugou asked, the venom in his voice being replaced by a sense of wariness. 

 

He couldn’t handle another all-out fight. And no one would be there to get Aizawa either. 

 

“I don’t know!” Midoryia cried, clutching his head. “It wants to… I don’t know, tell me something?! The voices are like, whispering in my head, over and over and over but I can’t make out what they’re saying. I can’t- And then it gets too much and it’s like it’s controlling me. I don’t know where I end and where it begins… What if I go to sleep and lose control again and starts attacking-” 

 

“Slow the fuck down. Who’s whispering in your head? Those previous holders of One for All?” Bakugou snapped as Midoriya nodded, confirming his thoughts. “Have you tried, I don’t know, phoning All Might or something?”

 

“I can’t get in contact with him.” Midoryia whined, his voice muffled through his hands. “I don’t know what to do.” he repeated. 

 

“Well I don’t know either!” Bakugou protested. “Doesn’t Recovery Girl know?”

 

“She just wants me to sleep.” Midoryia admitted, tears dripping into his lap. “But I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep because I’ll end up killing-” 

 

Midoriya’s sentence was broken off by another jolt of energy. He cried out, green light crackled across his torso as Bakugou instinctively backed himself up against the wall.

 

“Control it! You idiot!” Bakugou cried as he watched Midoriya’s body tense, his eyes screwed up as the flashes of green slowly started to dissipate. One for All let him go finally, Midoriya gasping for breath, hunched over and sobbing across Bakugou’s desk. 

 

“I’m trying…” he breathed in response.

 

“Not fucking hard enough!” Bakugou snapped, Midoriya openly choking on tears once more.

 

“I’m tired. It hurts… It hurts so much…” 

 

“Where?” Bakugou asked, trying not to succumb to the levels of panic he was watching unfold in front of him. “Where does it hurt you moron?”

 

Midoriya shifted in his seat, propping his head up with his hands. 

 

“My head…”

 

Bakugou felt a lump growing in his throat. It was undeniable that he didn’t like Midoriya. But watching someone in as much distress as Deku was very clearly in was making him feel sick. 

 

He didn’t know what to do. 

 

Panicking was making Bakugou feel childish as he felt tears brim in his own eyes. He was undeniably scared. Racking his head, trying to think of a solution, a way out of the situation. 

 

“You have to tell Aizawa.” he stated quickly. 

 

“No…” Midoriya sobbed. “I can’t.”

 

“You have to!” Bakugou retorted. “He’s the only one who can stop this from going too far!”

 

“No!” Midoryia cried, his nails digging into the sides of his scalp. “I can’t. I’m not allowed. All Might-”

 

“All Might doesn’t want to see you or anyone else in this school fucking dead.” Bakugou cut him off, his voice rising in volume. “You came to my room for some sort of fucking solution and that’s my answer. Tell Aizawa.”

 

“I-“

 

But Midoriya was cut off once more, green flashes cutting across his face, his arms, his eyes.

 

“I just need to know what it’s trying to tell me.”

 

The last phrase of Midoriya sentence divided into the voices of One for All as Midoriya’s eyes began to glow once more.

 

“No, no, no, no, no…” Bakugou hissed, forcing himself onto his feet, ignoring the pain and pulling Midoriya up by the collar of the medical gown. 

 

The green light of All for One worked it’s way up his arm almost forcing him to drop the idiot. Instead, he yanked him up harder, pulling Midoriya’s face as close to his own as he dared to. 

 

“Deku. DEKU!”

 

Midoriya came to, placing his feet on the floor properly and grabbing at Bakugou’s wrist. 

 

“Help me… Please help me… I can’t do this... My head…”

 

Bakugou didn’t know how much time he had but from the looks of things, not long. 

 

He gritted his teeth, damned the consequences, and pulled Midoryia out of his room.

 

The green-haired idiot luckily didn’t attempt to speak for most of the journey. Bakugou dragged him into the lift to the bottom floor praying that One for All didn’t attempt to make an appearance either. It was only when they got out of the lift, meters away from Aizawa’s door that he protested. 

 

Midoriya pulled away from Bakugou’s grip, looking up at him, head shaking. 

 

“We can’t…”

 

Bakugou’s ankle was screaming, his hands raw from dragging Midoriya through dorms. He’d had no sleep, lost one fight and had two teachers tell him off for nearly being killed.

 

He was fucking done. 

 

His cheeks growing hot once more and the door to his teacher's room just a matter of steps away, he snapped, pulling Midoriya up again.

 

“You bastard!” he cried feeling a stray tear fall down his cheek. “I can’t fight you again. I won’t win. This shouldn’t even be my fucking problem. Just stop. Just fucking stop.”

 

Midoryia was still sobbing, the color drained from his face. He wasn’t even trying to keep his composure, didn’t care that it was in front of his rival. Bakugou let him cry, rising his own voice in volume. Hoping, praying, that at this point, Aizawa would be able to hear them from the other side of the wall.

 

“Just stop with this stupid secret crap you bastard!” He continued, watching as his bandages slowly turned a shade of putrid yellow. The blisters on his burnt palms bursting as he struggled to keep his grip on Midoriya. “Don’t you fucking get it?! You’re fucking obsession with being All Might’s stupid pet experiment... You’re going to get us killed!”

 

The door behind them finally clicked.

 

Bakugou turned without hesitation and watched as their homeroom teacher came into view, his capture weapon still wrapped around his neck. Eyes wide. 

 

“What’s hap-” 

 

“Help.” Bakugou interrupted through gritted teeth. “Please… We need your help.” 

 

Aizawa was beside them in an instant, taking Midoriya under his arms and relieving Bakugou who fell against the wall with a hiss. 

 

“Bakugou what’s wrong?” Aizawa asked firmly as green light flared through Midoriya’s body once more causing him to jerk uncharacteristically. “Did Midoriya walk all the way back to dorms?”

 

“You have to fucking erase his quirk.” Bakugou replied, brushing the tears away from his cheeks. “Please.”

 

“Why?” 

 

Aizawa’s tone was demanding, despite his eyes turning red. Midoryia had collapsed inwards into Aizawa, completely given up, his body fitting from the backlash of the unusual power surges. 

 

“Bakugou, why did Midoriya come back to dorms?”

 

“I’m the only one who knows.” Bakugou replied.

 

“Knows what?” Aizawa snapped. “Bakugou? What’s going on?”

 

“His quirk… it’s-“

 

“It’s All Might’s.”

 

Midoryia finally spoke, the concentration in his face prominent from the veins popping out from his neck. Trying to keep One for All at bay.

 

Aizawa had released his quirk. In shock. Looking between the two teenagers, frowning. Confused. Worried.

 

“I have All Might’s quirk and it’s trying to tell me something.” Midoryia continued, his voice a tight whisper. 

 

As if to prove itself, Midoriya’s eyes flashed green as he cried out in a painful sob, burrowing his head into his chest. 

 

“It hurts… Make it stop…”

 

Aizawa froze for a split second before instinct hit and his eyes glowed red again. 

 

Midoriya near enough crumpled, the tension leaving his body once more. Aizawa caught him quickly, kneeling down to take his weight and looked back up at Bakugou.

 

“What’s going on?”

Notes:

I'm working on the second half as you read this now. It'll be up as soon as I'm satisfied.

Chapter 35: Trust is an Easy Bond to Break

Summary:

Lying across the bed from him, curled in on himself and broken, was the next symbol of peace?

Aizawa didn't know if he needed coffee or sake.

Which bottle would be better to throw to throw at Yagi's head?

Notes:

This is going up at such a weird time but I have classes this evening haha.
I rewrote *most* of it and now I'm happy(er).
Thank you for your patient, you guys honestly are the best!

*ALSO side note, I wrote the chapter summary on the fly and now I really wish I'd put it in the chapter lol ahhhhh mood*

“How much have you told him?”

 

Chiyo’s voice was stern but not unkind. She was redressing Bakugou’s hands, the kid sitting on a chair next to Aizawa’s bed. Midoriya was laid in his bed, One for All still pulsing through him. It had been decided that he would do his best to control his quirk, Aizawa wasn’t strong enough himself to control it solely. Therefore, he would be on hand to take some of the strain from the teenager until they found an alternative solution. 

 

Aizawa had pulled his desk chair near to the scene and sat. He leant forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. Watching Midoriya like a hawk, waiting as he was still, timing it as he started to fit. Making sure that he wasn’t out of control for too long. 

 

His brain was reeling.

 

He couldn’t quite process the information he’d been given so far. Let alone more.

 

“Just where I got my quirk from.” Midoriya replied tiredly. He’d stopped crying, but that was more likely due to the relief of not having to deal with the backlash of these episodes alone. Aizawa could understand that. What he couldn’t understand was just how bad things had gotten before Midoryia had reached out.

 

He ignored the twist of nerves in his stomach as he focused on the teenager. He didn’t want to feel betrayed. Especially from one of his own colleagues. He was more annoyed that he couldn’t help it. But it was the moments, moments when Yagi had lied to him. When he should have followed through with his instinct that something was up with Midoriya. 

 

Like the fact that the only two times he’d had to deal with Bakugou and Midoriya like this was because of the former number one hero.

 

He trusted All Might. He looked up to him and respected him…

 

But looking at Midoriya, a sixteen-year-old child, in so much pain…

 

“When do we make the call and take him to hospital?” Aizawa asked as steadily as he could muster. His eyes grew red once more as Midoriya whimpered, green light sparking dangerously from his chest.

 

“We don’t.” Chiyo replied, continuing to care for Bakugou. She glanced over at Midoriya but took her time replacing the cloth on his forehead. 

 

He spoke through gritted teeth, his hands curling the fabric up around his pants. “What do you mean, we don’t.” 

 

“We can’t without revealing the secret of One for All.” Chiyo explained, her voice hinting at regret. “And we can’t do that.”

 

“What’s your priority here Chiyo?” Aizawa snapped, releasing his quirk and blinking quickly. Aizawa had to blink. And trying to force himself to last out was unsustainable. His eyes stung in protest, stars appearing behind his eyelids as his hand instinctively reached behind him for his eye drops. They weren’t there of course. He’d moved his chair. 

 

“My priority is with Midoriya, of course.” Chiyo replied, trying to smooth over any tension in the conversation with her tone. “He’s my patient. And the next Symbol of Peace. Besides, this is one of the rare times he’s come to me with an injury that I don’t believe he’s fully in control of.”

 

Aizawa wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Midoriya had curled in on himself at this point, hugging his knees to his chest, eyes screwed tight. 

 

The next symbol of peace. That was a lot, for any kid. All Might was only-

 

Aizawa didn’t actually know how old All Might would have been when he received One for All. Of course he didn’t. It was a secret.

 

He wondered how much more information about Yagi Toshinori was a lie.

 

“But I’ve already failed All Might.” the teenager spoke quietly, shivering. “I told someone else.”

 

The way Midoriya spoke about Yagi made Aizawa tense up. 

 

“You’ve failed no one.” he cut in. “You’ll fail them by not staying alive, got it?”

 

Midoriya looked up at that, his eyes wide and hopeful. Aizawa wondered where his fight had gone.

 

“It’s your responsibility now.” Recovery Girl continued with a small smile. “You get to decide who to trust with this information.”

 

“It’s not like we had much of a choice.” Bakugou retorted, hissing slightly as the bandages were pulled tighter around his palm. He looked exhausted. Slumped in the foldout chair, looking up at the ceiling as if to fight the urge to look at his ruined palms.

 

Aizawa ground his bottom teeth.

 

“I can tell.” he drawled, applying eye drops. “So this is All Might’s quirk, yes? Going wild. Or, whoever-had-the-quirk-before-All-Might’s, quirk.”

 

“Yeah.” Midoriya replied.

 

“What about your own quirk?” Aizawa asked, eyes blinking away the eye drops, getting ready to activate his own quirk at a moments notice.

 

It took the boy a little while to reply, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink over the top of his ashen skin.

 

“I’m quirkless…”

 

Of course Midoriya was quirkless. That made a lot of sense. The boy didn’t seem as if he knew how the hell to control a quirk.

 

“And you’ve had this quirk for..?”

 

“I got it the day of the entrance exam…” Midoriya confessed. 

 

“Jesus.”

 

“Don’t get me started.” Chiyo commented, ripping medical tape with her teeth. “I could have quite easily throttled Toshinori. Putting the boy through the UA entrance exam before he’d even had a chance to use the damn thing.”

 

“The first time you used One for All was in the entrance exam?” Aizawa repeated. Even Bakugou looked confused. 

 

“It’s probably why I didn’t do so well…” Midoriya replied.

 

“You did appallingly.” Aizawa confirmed, watching Bakugou smirk slightly, snapping out of it as Chiyo applied the antiseptic to his burst blisters.

 

Aizawa watched him for a moment, trying to work out just what the hell Bakugou was thinking. All of his insults, the two’s past rivalry. If Midoriya had been quirkless their whole childhood then that must have been one hell of a power shift coming into UA.

 

“So. Let me get this straight.” Aizawa continued, sitting straight in his chair. “You were a normal kid, a fanboy teen. Then what? You met your idol, somehow proved you had the guts and became the next Symbol of Peace. In a turnaround of a few months?”

 

“I had to clean a beach.” Midoriya replied. Aizawa scoffed slightly. 

 

“Can you dress my hands like this?” Bakugou asked, leaning forward and placing his head on his teacher's bed, sinking into the fabric. He stuck his hands out to one side and seemingly took her answer as a yes as Recovery Girl continued to work on his palms.

 

“What’s happening now though?” Aizawa continued, watching the two “What’s gone wrong?”

 

“I keep on seeing the previous users of One for All.” Midoriya replied, pulling one hand from under him, rubbing his eyes as he explained. “It happened at the Sports Festival first. They just… appeared. But now I hear them. In my head.”

 

“What do they say?” Aizawa asked, sitting.

 

“Right now it’s just a mismatch of voices.” Midoriya replied. “Some of them aren’t even Japanese. It doesn’t make sense…”

 

“And you’re user number..?”

 

“I’m the ninth.”

 

“Okay…” Aizawa leant back in his chair once more. Processing. “Okay… And this hasn’t happened before?” 

 

“No… not that anyone knows of…”

 

“Do you recognise any of them? The other eight users?” Aizawa pressed. He wanted to know who they were, selfishly. He also wanted to know who the hell came up with the name 'One for All’. It reminded him of something…

 

Midoriya caught on, shutting his eyes momentarily. Even Chiyo took a steep intake of breath, Bakugou looking between them with the same expression as Aizawa was sure he also had.

 

“I recognise All Might.” Midoriya replied eventually. “And I know some of the others, but I’m not really allowed to say. Well, it’s not like that exactly it’s just… It’s not my past.”

 

“It is now, you fucking idiot.” Bakugou was quick to retort. 

 

It seemed Bakugou knew about as much about the situation as Aizawa himself did.

 

“Not like that.” Midoriya stressed. “It’s just not my story to tell.”

 

“I understand.” Aizawa replied, sighing. He wasn’t going to press the kid to try and tell him things about Yagi’s past. It wasn’t the point right now. “Look. I don’t know much about One for All.” Aizawa continued. “And until we can get in touch with All Might, I’m not sure that I can do anything.”

 

Midoriya nodded, curling in on himself even further and pulling the bedcovers besides Bakugou’s head. Resigning himself to his continued fate.

 

“But.” Aizawa stated, his tone hesitant. “Let me tell you one thing that I’ve noticed.”

 

The two boys looked up at that, Bakugou’s face a deep frown. 

 

“I haven’t been erasing your quirk. But it seems to have gone pretty silent since we’ve been talking. I may be wrong, but I’d say it's emotionally connected to you.”

 

“All quirks are.” Bakugou retorted. 

 

“How much sleep have you had in the last few days?” Aizawa changed track, ignoring Bakugou. 

 

Midoriya didn’t answer at first. 

 

“I don’t know. Not much.” he finally admitted. 

 

“Eaten properly?”

 

“Well…”

 

“Fuck off have you.” Bakugou answered for him. 

 

“Language.” Recovery Girl scolded lightly, attaching the last of the tape to his hands. “It’s very obvious that Midoriya hasn’t been taking care of himself. And that’s putting it lightly.” 

 

“From what I’ve been told, you took the most damage in your fight earlier, when either Bakugou was insulting you personally or you unintentionally hurt someone.” Aizawa mused. “I think One for All is getting out of control because you’re letting it.”

 

His words had their desired effect. Midoriya looked sick. 

 

“There’s clearly more to it.” Aizawa shrugged. “And I’d appreciate, now that you’ve told me about the origins of your quirk, that you continue to inform me what you find out. But a quirk's a quirk and most get out of hand when their holder isn’t taking care of themselves.” 

 

Recovery Girl hummed at that, wrapping tape around Bakugou’s new bandages. 

 

“Hormonally, having a quirk is like a second puberty.” she added. 

 

“Not that we’re telling you off exactly.” Aizawa stated. “You’ve only had your quirk for the same amount of time as a preschooler. But you’ll need to learn how to take care of it. Your quirk does not work in the same way as All Mights. You need to get him out of your head when you think about it as well.”

 

“Okay.” Midoriya replied. He looked like he was about to cry again.

 

“What happened tonight cannot be allowed to happen again.” 

 

“I understand…” Midoriya murmured, sniffing into the pillow. “I’m really sorry.”

 

“It’s not your fault.” Aizawa replied through his teeth.

 

“You need rest.” Recovery Girl confirmed, stopping Aizawa from speaking more on the matter. “So do you, Bakugou. I can’t heal you whilst you’re this tired.”

 

“It’s worse. When I sleep.” Midoriya whispered, his voice small. “I can’t lose control again.”

 

“Then you’re not sleeping properly.” Aizawa stated simply. “That’s fixable.”

 

“I don’t want sleeping pills.” 

 

“You don’t get a choice.” Aizawa replied, getting up from his seat. “Bakugou you’re also sleeping in here, I’m not having you walk on that ankle anymore.” 

 

“I’m not sleeping with Deku.”

 

“I wouldn’t subject you to the horror.” Aizawa drawled. “I have a futon.”

 

“I will stay until the both of you are asleep.” Chiyo smiled brightly, packing her medical kit away. Bakugou looked a little pissed off at the thought of having a babysitter but didn’t lift his head from Aizawa bed, his eyes closing softly. 

 

Midoriya on the other hand, looked terrified. He sat up again, Bakugou batting him with one arm as the sheets moved.

 

“But what if something happens?” 

 

Aizawa turned to reply, something harsher than he intended but the teenager's expression. stopped him.

 

Midoriya was terrified. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, trembling from fatigue. His hands were gripping the bedsheets so hard his knuckles were going white, bruises starting to appear across his arms, neck, face… 

 

Aizawa abandoned the futon. Walking over and sitting on the bed across from Midoriya. Bakugou was fast asleep, the lines on his forehead evened out, his expression neutral. 

 

“Midoriya. Nothing will happen. I won’t let it.”

 

He wasn’t good at this. He could tell just from the way that Midoriya wasn’t relaxing. The boy's mouth opening then shutting, not wanted to argue back him but not wanting to leg it go. Aizawa didn’t know what else to say, what would make him feel better right now, what would help him to relax. 

 

He still had to get this kid to take sleeping pills. Somehow.

 

“What would make you feel better right now?” he whispered, watching fat, pitiful tears roll down Midoriya’s cheeks. Again. He felt his nose flared as he breathed in sharply. He wasn’t even annoyed. He just wanted to stop Midoriya from crying. Green sparked across the boy's arms but it faded quickly. Midoriya, as unsure and scared as he was, had control.

 

Midoriya took a breath, looking down at his hands

 

“My mum.”

 

“Okay kid, alright.” he replied softly, tapping the blankets beside his legs and lifting himself from the bed. “We’ll get your mum.”

 

He could probably leave the room for a moment, go and request for her to be collected. He would have to explain what had happened though, the bruising, the-

 

“Does she know about your quirk?” he asked, turning.

 

“No.”

 

Right. Okay.

 

Bloody hell.

 

—

 

The common area was declared out of bounds the next day. Tape was pulled across the sofas and lessons were cancelled until Thursday. 

 

Midoriya was put on study leave until exams were over. He would stay at UA however. Anywhere else, Aizawa deemed to be a danger to the public. Midoryia had slept in his bed all night, his mother ending up sleeping beside him, Bakugou on the futon, Chiyo on the armchair and Aizawa had taken the floor. Which was fine.

 

The class were more than welcome to return home to study during the days break, but no one did. They all, bar Kirishima, somehow managed to time themselves, traipsing into the kitchen just after midday. Somewhat coaxed by Yaoyorozu making honey porridge. 

 

Midoriya made it in last, the sleeping pills knocking him out past the morning.

 

Class 1A couldn’t help but watch as he gingerly took his seat. 

 

His muscle mass still remained, but he looked gaunt. His body was mottled in bruises and the bags under his eyes creating their own shadows. 

 

Class 1A tried to ignore it. An unspoken rule. For Midoriya’s sake.

 

“It feels weird with the common area blocked off like that.” Ashido commented, shoving a juice pouch in her mouth and letting it hang there. She grabbed a foldable chair from the corner of the room, seating herself next to Sero. 

 

Without the sofas, there weren’t enough places for the class to sit at once. 

 

“If they change the wall colours, then I want to paint a mural.” Aoyama mused, placing his chin in the palms of both hands dramatically. 

 

“What would you paint?” Yaoyorozu asked, sitting a bowl of porridge in front of Midoriya. He looked up at her, eyes already misted, mouth open. “Don’t thank me. Just eat it.” she spoke first. “Please.”

 

Midoriya nodded, grabbing a spoon and trying to, somewhat enthusiastically, eat.

 

“I would paint a class photo of us all of course!” Aoyama continued. 

 

“Oh, that’s really sweet!” Uraraka smiled, the gauze on her cheek creasing as she did. 

 

“There has to be some kind of catch.” Sero grinned, pointing a butter knife in Aoyama’s direction. 

 

“Catch? No! Why would you say that!” Aoyama gasped with a wink. 

 

“What is it?” Hagakure piped up, egging the conversation on. “Red lipstick? Eyelashes?” 

 

“Please no eyelashes.” Tokoyami sighed. “I’d look atrocious.”

 

“You wouldn’t even be able to see it if you had eyelashes!” Ojiro chastised. “Your feathers are black.”

 

“Mascara comes in multiple shades.” Aoyama smiled from the end of the table. 

 

“No!” Tokoyami cried vehemently. “No. No. No.”

 

“I want to see you with eyelashes now!” Kaminari spoke with his mouth full. Jiro was about to reprimand him for the spray of toast crumbs on the table when Kirishima entered. “Yo! Bro!” 

 

“Morning, morning! Wait..! Afternoon.” he replied cheerily. Bakugou removed himself from the table, in doing so offering his seat up He walked away with some vigour, his ankle was fully healed. Kirishima took the seat with a smile, letting the class pander to him. “Hey, I can do this myself!” he grinned as a plate was set up in front of him. “My hands aren’t in casts!”

 

“Yeah, but the rest of your arms are.” Ashido pointed out. 

 

“What did recovery girl say?” Yaoyorozu asked, placing a bowl of porridge in front of him as well, a tea towel now draped over her shoulders. 

 

“She said my hardening meant that the burns were no more than deep dermerial..?”

 

“Dermal!” Uraraka smiled. “Like mine! So not bad bad…” 

 

She trailed off, looking across to Midoriya for reassurance. 

 

“But I’m on even stronger painkillers now!” Kirishima cried. “And I can’t take part in hero classes for a week, which I’m sure Bakugou is mad about.”

 

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou replied, pouting. “I wouldn’t fight you like that anyway.”

 

“Awh bro! You really care!”

 

“Idiot. Those painkillers have gotten to your head.” Bakugou retorted, hitting Kirishima across the temple lightly for good measure. 

 

“They haven’t set in yet.” he grinned in reply. 

 

“So are you still in pain?” Jiro asked hesitantly. 

 

“Yeah…” 

 

Kirishima looked over to Midoriya for a moment, offering a thumbs up his way. 

 

“But it’s not bad at all. Anyway. What were you guys talking about?”

 

“Aoyama wants to paint a mural.” Todoroki replied, filling in the awkward pause with ease. 

 

“With all of us in!” Hagakure continued. 

 

“That’s so sick!” Kirishima replied, grinning and shovelling porridge somewhat awkwardly into his mouth. “Where?”

 

“The sofa’s.” Ashido pointed. “Where the wall was kinda… charred..?” 

 

“He wants to give me eyelashes.” Tokoyami sighed, breaking the pause in conversation. 

 

“I never said that!” Aoyama protested wildly.

 

“Knowing you, they’ll be glitter mixed into the paint.” Kirishima laughed, expecting Aoyama to argue further but instead. Silence. 

 

Nineteen pairs of eyes turned to the boy. 

 

“Glitter is a necessity no matter the occasion…” Aoyama finally replied, flicking the hair out of his eyes. 

 

The room collapsed into laughter. Bakugou rolled his eyes. 

 

“You’re ridiculous!” Yaoyorozu giggled. 

 

“I’m pretty sure that’s a health hazard.” Iida commented. 

 

“I can’t tell which is worse.” Tokoyami sighed, smiling as he did. 

 

“What between glitter and eyelashes?” Ojiro asked.

 

“Let’s find out!” Ashido cried. “I have eyelashes!”

 

“I have glitter!” Aoyama added. 

 

“What?! No! Why do girls have eyelashes?!” Tokoyami cried, as the laughter among the table grew. “How do you even extract those? And why?!”

 

“Extract?!” Jiro howled, doubling over and nearly hitting her head on the table. “No! They’re fake.”

 

“You stick them on! With glue!’ Hagakure offered as an explanation. 

 

“You’re all mad. Deranged.” Tokoyami cried, arms in the air in protest.

 

“I can’t say I understand it myself.” Shoji laughed. 

 

“Deku… Are you alright?”

 

Uraraka’s voice was soft but unmistakable as the class turned to her end of the table. Midoyria was still next to her, One for All wasn’t in sight. But tears were running down the boy's cheeks, pooling at his chin and dripping into his breakfast.

 

The laughter was hushed as Class 1A leaned into their friend, Uraraka hugging onto his shoulder. 

 

Midoriya heaved slightly, intaking breath with some difficulty.

 

“I’m just so…”

 

His shoulder shook with the effort. Even Bakugou looked up from where his eyeline had fallen to the floor. 

 

“…Grateful.”

 

Nineteen shoulders dropped in relief. Kirishima even laughed slightly. 

 

“I nearly killed you, all. And… and…” Midoriya gulped for air, Iida coming across to hug his other shoulder. “…The common area is ruined. But you’re all acting the same around me and you have every… every right not to-“

 

“Stop it!” Asui cried from across from him. “And breathe.”

 

“Yeah dude, don’t pass out on us from apologising.” Sero grinned, a few sniggers breaking out from around the table. 

 

“No one, no one here thinks anything as ridiculous as that.” Ojiro confirmed, speaking on behalf of 1A as they nodded enthusiastically round around him. 

 

“We lose control of our quirks all the time.” Tokoyami reasoned. 

 

“Yeah! Remember when Ashido got so worked up about that soap drama that she could stop producing acid!” Hagakure laughed. “And sobbed her way through three pillows!” 

 

“No! Stop it!” Ashido moaned, leaning into her side. 

 

“And when Todoroki needed to freeze the freezer during the power cut and he froze the whole kitchen.” Kaminari added. 

 

“And whose fault was it that we had a power cut in the first place?” Jiro asked pointedly. 

 

Kaminari turned a deep shade of red, the tension easing from the table once more. Even Midoriya was smiling once more. 

 

“We just want you to get better.” Kirishima smiled across at him. 

 

“And we would like you to smile, s'il vous plaît.” Aoyama added, his eyes sparkling at Midoriya from under his fringe. 

 

“And pass your exams!” Iida cried causing a few giggles. 

 

“I don’t like it when you’re not okay.” Asui confirmed, playing with her fork. “It feels… wrong.” 

 

“I’m…” 

 

Midoriya looked up, properly. Taking in the expressions of his classmates, feeling Uraraka and Iida to the sides of him. Their breath on his shoulder, their fingers gripping at his pyjama top. 

 

“I’ll do my best to get better.” he finished, smiling back. 

 

“We love you Deku.” Uraraka whispered into his sleeve. 

 

“You idiots are making me sick.” Bakugou snapped from the side, the class sighing happily. Bakugou continued by leaning over Kirishima’s shoulder. “You done with that bowl?”

 

“Yeah… why..?”

 

“I’m tidying up you moron.” Bakugou snapped, clearing his best friends place with a huff. 

 

“See.” Tokoyami pointed. “If your quirk hadn’t exploded, Bakugou wouldn’t be playing house.”

 

“YOU WANT TO FIGHT YOU SHITTY BIRD?!”

 

“Midoriya.” 

 

Aizawa appeared at the doorway, surveying the kitchen for his student. 

 

“Sensei?” 

 

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed, spotting the green haired teen surrounded by classmates.

 

“Everything okay..?” 

 

“Yes Sensei!” Midoriya called, smiling as best as he could. 

 

“All Might is back from the US.” Aizawa continued, trying to work out how to phrase the next sentence in his head. “He wanted to have a chat with you… about controlling your quirk.”

 

Midoriya was up in an instant, fumbling to finish up the rest of his breakfast, letting Iida and Uraraka stay close as he did. 

 

“No rush. He’ll be in the office.” Aizawa continued, turning to leave the room once more. “At least put some clothes on before you head over.”

 

“Let me take that for you Midoriya!” Iida cried, taking the, now empty, bowl from his best friends hands. His tone certain once more but his eyes still glassy. 

 

Midoriya let him do so, wiping away the excess tears from his face. 

 

“Have fun!” Kirishima smiled at him. 

 

“I hope it goes well.” Asui added. 

 

“Movie night tonight?” Yaoyorozu asked as Midoriya clambered for the doorway

 

“Okay!” Midoriya called. 

 

As Bakugou wiped the remaining soap suds from Kirishima’s bowl he let his shoulders drop a little. 

 

He’d gatecrash their meeting in an hour or so. 

 

Let stupid Deku cry on his mentor first or something. 

 

Notes:

The second half of Purplemalemute's chapter will go up this Friday as I'm in a play down in London for the next week so no time ahh !!!

Hide and Seek and Fatally Injured Aizawa in Class were joint most popular prompts for second place so let me know which one you guys wanna see next week!

Chapter 36: Confined Space Rescue for Heroes pt2

Summary:

Aizawa froze. A little electric buzzer, hidden away in a fold of his hair, began screeching. The emergency beacon. The emergency beacon he’d given to Hagakure, to be used only in the direst of emergencies.

Pt2 of the guest chapter by purplemalemute !

Notes:

So you might want to go back to Pt 1 of this story to get up to speed haha! (it's chapter 29)

Sorry for my personal absence, the play that I'm in has been in rehearsal all week and man I'm tired. We open on Monday !!

Anyway, enjoy!

‘Support Hero Fahrenheit . His quirk is: The Perfect Touch. By drawing his ring finger across someone’s body, he can lower their internal body temperature. By drawing his pointer finger across someone, he can raise their body temperature.’

 

“What? That’s kinda an odd quirk for a hero, huh?” Hizashi mused, slamming his file on the desk with some enthusiasm. 

 

Aizawa grunted at Hizashi’s insensitivity but didn’t disagree.

 

“How exactly was this hero supposed to help us in the test?” Midnight asked. She was splayed lazily across her desk.

 

It felt very strange to be in the student’s desks. They could’ve had this meeting in the staff room, but Nezu had insisted on holding it in Class 1-A’s room.

 

A little punishment for Aizawa for not keeping better control of his class. Well, that or he was taking a break from tormenting the students to torment the teachers.

 

Aizawa wasn’t sure which. Or if he wanted to know.

 

“It’s quite simple. By using his quirk, Fahrenheit can lower your body temperatures to the point of hibernation! This allows much safer surgeries at the St. Luke’s International Hospital in Toyko, from which we will be borrowing Mr. Fahrenheit.” Nezu happily explained.

 

“And this is relevant to the Confined Space course… How?” Vlad King growled.

 

Class 1-B had heard about 1-A getting to take the confined space course. Monoma had started a riot. 

 

The entire class was locked in detention for a week.

 

“Well, for one thing, this means that U.A. must pay for several additional surgeons to cover for their most valuable staff member,” Nezu slipped Aizawa a glare. “But will also allow us to feign your deaths!”

 

Hizashi spit out the soda he was sipping on, Midnight nearly tore her skintight outfit on the desk, Vlad King broke the back of Midoriya’s chair from sitting back so fast, and Aizawa’s eyes widened.

 

Nemuri giggled madly. “Hehehe. My ears must finally be giving out because I could’ve sworn Principal Nezu just said that we’re gonna be playing dead for the kids.”

 

“Ashido and Mineta are going to end up expelled.” Aizawa groaned, already picturing his co-workers covered in “artsy” graffiti.

 

“Maybe it’s good that 1-B is staying out of this…” Vlad King grumbled.

 

“Uuuhh… Yooooo! How is this one gonna work?!” Hizashi asked, with his hand in the air. Not unlike the students, come to think of it.

 

Nezu’s smile never faltered.

 

“Ah yes, none of you have ever assisted the Third Years. Oh well, now’s your time to shine!”

 

The principal spun happily around and advanced his presentation.

 

“By cooling your bodies to 88ºF, your heart rate will slow to nearly nothing, but your brains will suffer no ill effects! Even better, your breathing will be so shallow that there is practically no risk of breathing in toxic chemicals! Isn’t it brilliant?!”

 

Vlad King huffed. “Why us? Can’t somebody else do this? It’s a lot of pro’s to take out of action for one course.”

 

“To see how the students react in a crisis!” Nezu said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Following protocol in a classroom setting is all well and good, but in a true crisis, humans don’t tend to act rationally. Their emotions and the adrenaline coursing through their veins can cause them to do crazy things, like punching a giant robot in the face.”

 

Aizawa wished All Might were here. The scrawny man was in dire need of a smack.

 

“By placing trusted mentors in what they believe to be mortal peril, we can analyze how they react when the chips are down! Which ones follow protocol, and which ones will place themselves in mortal peril to rescue a corpse!”

 

The classroom was quiet. It made sense.

 

“Now! The test is tomorrow! Please go over your safety packets and be prepared!” Nezu said, turning and heading out of the classroom.

 

There was a beat while the teachers processed everything.

 

“Wait. HOMEWORK?!” Hizashi shouted.

 

—

 

“What happened?”

 

Hagakure’s sleepy voice rose from the hospital bed, signalling her awakening from the medical coma.

 

Aizawa’s breath rushed out. He leaned forward, reaching out to touch his student. To make sure she was really alright.

 

His hand quickly flinched back.

 

Of course she was alright. All the doctor’s reports said she would be. What was he worried about?

 

“Did?... Did we pass the exam?...” Hagakure whispered. Her voice sounded so small, so vulnerable.

 

Most likely a side-effect of Recovery Girl’s quirk. Hagakure’s lungs had been badly scarred in the toxic smoke, and it had taken a lot of the young girl’s vitality to restore them. Plus, she was just waking up from a medically induced coma. She’d bound to be groggy for quite a while.

 

Aizawa rested his arm on her bedside. No need to answer her just yet. The girl needed time to rest. Maybe she’d be up for talking later. For now, he just tried to appear non-threatening. He’d been practising the look with Eri and made great progress.

 

Only half of her grade school class had burst into tears when he’d come to pick her up from school yesterday.

 

While Aizawa daydreamed, a tiny weight manifested on his arm.

 

Hagakure was gripping his sleeve.

 

Aizawa didn’t exactly know what to do. Physical affection wasn’t really his thing,1A was well aware of that. There had been a few occasions when those lines had been crossed. He’d been attacked with a few hugs from Uraraka in the previous year, there were a couple of jumpers of his that had been tear-stained by Midoryia… But this was different. Hagakure needed reassurance. 

 

Being invisible, Aizawa could never read her facial expression like the rest of his class. This was her way of letting him know. Getting his attention. 

 

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Aizawa decided to answer her question after all.

 

“Sorry Hagakure. Having a team member pass out constitutes an automatic fail. No one passed the exam.”

 

After a moment, the hospital gown began to get wet. A tiny trickle of liquid running down her neck.

 

“Hey.” Using his gentlest encouraging voice. “No crying. This test was all extra credit. You weren’t even supposed to take it for another two years.”

 

“I... I know...” Hagakure sniffed, trying to wipe her tears away. “I just... I just thought we could really do it...”

 

She suddenly went quiet. Shuddering breathes fought sobs trying to break free.

 

The urge to touch her, to comfort his student struck again. Had he been anything but Hagakure’s teacher, he would’ve taken her into his arms.

 

But he wasn’t her father. Or her grandfather. He was her teacher. There were certain distances he had to keep.

 

“Midnight?... Midnight’s okay, right?” she asked fragilely. “I didn’t... let her die?”

 

This time, Aizawa found her hand with his and gripped it tightly.

 

“She’s fine. Midnight was never in any real danger.”

 

The hospital gown fell back, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Or a girl who’d had a huge weight lifted from her shoulders.

 

“Thank you... thank you Sensei.” her whispered voice sounding just a little bit stronger.

 

Aizawa smiled. A very rare treat. Just for a moment.

 

Then he hardened.

 

There was something he needed to attend to.

 

“Midnight and all your classmates are perfectly fine.” Aizawa began to let his usual edge creep into his voice. “But you came extremely close to dying.”

 

Aizawa let go of Hagakure’s hand and gripped the bed, fixing her with his most terrifying glare.

 

The sheet rustled slightly under his gaze.

 

“Care to explain what happened?”

 

—

 

“You’ve failed the test.” Aizawa droned.

 

The gritty teacher was viciously brushing his clothes. Midoriya’s failed rescue attempt had dragged him 50 feet across the soot-soaked remains of a burning building. But try as he might, his favourite overcoat was just destroyed.

 

“Looks like your recklessness finally caught up to you. Anything to say Midoriya?”

 

The boy in question took his eyes off of his bright red sneakers. His face was as red as his shoes.

 

“I... I thought you were dying Sensei. I had to!...”

 

“Add to the body count?” Aizawa cut in.

 

Midoriya looked as if he might cry, then put his head back down.

 

“You take the most notes in my class problem child. Tell me the proper procedure to follow when you see someone down in a potentially toxic atmosphere.”

 

Midoriya didn’t move. The kid knew the right answer, could probably rattle it off word for word. But saying it out loud would be admitting that he’d messed up. Badly.

 

“Nothing to say?” Aizawa pressed, then turned his attention to the three students standing behind Midoriya. “Anyone else wanna give it a shot?”

 

“The proper procedure is to ensure that the area is safe before advancing, and leaving if it is too dangerous to attempt a rescue!” Iida faithfully called.

 

“Thank you.” Aizawa groaned. He was hoping that Shoji or Mineta would try to answer.

 

Iida nodded, very satisfied with himself.

 

“Truthfully, I expected this from Midoriya. But you Uraraka...”

 

The girl in question sat next to Midoriya, fiddling with her hair.

 

“Do you want to explain to me what your plan was?”

 

She gulped.

 

“Well Sensei...” she began nervously, touching her pointer fingers together over and over. “I figured that if I could just float you and Midoriya, we’d all successfully get out!”

 

She looked up to him, hoping to find some mercy.

 

“And what was your plan to get yourself out?”

 

Her face sank, and she looked down. Like a scolded puppy.

 

“As I thought.” He sighed.

 

Turning to the table beside him, Aizawa grabbed the results sheet and a marker. Might as well read it out to them as he wrote. Best way to teach them what they’d done wrong, and right.

 

“Alright, everyone pay attention. Here’s how you did.”

 

The fidgeting and chatting ceased. For as rowdy as his kids could be, they focused when it mattered.

 

“Midoriya, excellent job coordinating your teammates in the rescue of the initial civilians. Have to admit, it was brilliant using Uraraka’s quirk together with Shoji’s arms to move everyone out as quickly and safely as possible.”

 

Mineta nodded firmly.

 

“Mineta, good job on using your sticky balls to seal the simulated wounds, though we oughta make sure they’re sanitary for next time.”

 

Some of the rowdier boys started giggling, only to earn a pointed glare from Aizawa as Mineta turned bright red.

 

“Iida, excellent job for keeping your teammates back and a cool head when Midoriya and Uraraka went down. However, that move you pulled was extremely risky. You are aware what might’ve happened ifs you had missed by even a centimetre?”

 

Iida bowed low. “I was aware Sensei. However, I simply could not abandon you and my classmates! The risk I took in running in and out was worth it!”

 

“Plus, even if he did go down, we had that makeshift rope make with the sticky balls and the steel cable.” Mineta added.

 

“I would’ve created another mouth in the fresh air to stay conscious while retrieving him if he’d gone down.” Shoji added, flexing his extendable arms to demonstrate his point.

 

Aizawa glowered at them.

 

Then he marked down a high grade for each.

 

The only other option they’d had would’ve been to escape, and retrieve the bodies. That was what the training instructed them to do. That was the only safe option. The stunt Iida, Mineta, and pulled might’ve gotten them all killed, and the curriculum dictated he should fail them for it.

 

Secretly though, not even he could abide by that.

 

Dangerous as it might’ve been, and despite the fact that it went directly against the training, he was proud that his students had gone the extra mile to save him.

 

He’d been a hero for too long.

 

“Alright, that’s it for now. Head to the locker room to get cleaned up and…”

 

Aizawa froze. A little electric buzzer, hidden away in a fold of his hair, began screeching. The emergency beacon. The emergency beacon he’d given to Hagakure, to be used only in the direst of emergencies.

 

“Excuse me.” Aizawa said curtly, his googles dropping into place and his capture weapon flaring. With a leap, he was gone.

 

Already his mind was racing. The device was designed not to trigger unless pressed three times in rapid succession. The chances of it going off by accident were nearly nil. If this beacon had lit, Hagakure was in trouble and desperately needed his help.

 

But why?! They were in the middle of UA! The stronghold of the world’s toughest heroes! Though past events had proven that it wasn’t invulnerable to attack, a quick scan of the area showed no unusual signs. The campus was clear.

 

The only other thing happening right now was… the Confined Space practical exam.

 

Shit.

 

Moments later, Aizawa was in the control centre, where Nezu, Recovery Girl, and Fahrenheit were observing the exams.

 

“Something’s gone wrong with Hagakure’s exam. Shut it down.”

 

They all looked at him if he’d gone crazy. Fahrenheit was the first to speak.

 

“Excuse me, we’re in the middle of the exam. What makes you think?…”

 

“Why do you say this Aizawa?” Nezu cut in. His tone was light and conversational, but his eyes were clear and focused.

 

Aizawa tapped his head. “I’ve received an emergency distress beacon from my student. She knows not to use it unless she’s in extreme trouble. We need to act now.”

 

Fahrenheit scoffed. “I’m sure if there were any problems, my team would’ve…”

 

The screech of a microphone’s feedback silenced him. 

 

“Ground crews, this is Principal Nezu. Shut down the smoke generators and mobilize the rescue crews in on Unit 3.”

 

Fahrenheit threw up his hands, glaring at the principal.

 

“Would you let me finish a sentence?!”

 

Nezu did not even bother to turn his eyes from the control panel.

 

Aizawa turned to Recovery Girl. “You’d better get down there too. We don’t know how bad it could be.”

 

The elderly hero grumbled a bit about having to get up and go again so early but did not dawdle.

 

Fahrenheit finally turned his attention back to Aizawa.

 

“Look, I know you’re worried about your student.” He offered, letting some of the exasperation bleed out of his voice. “But we’ve never had a serious incident my team couldn’t handle in the history of this exam. I’m sure your student will be alright.”

 

Aizawa turned back to the exit.

 

“Right. And I’m going to make it stays that way.”

 

Then he leapt down to the gently smoking bunker, where teams of profession mine rescue heroes were already disappearing inside.

 

He prayed she’d be alright.

 

—

 

“They found you passed out in a charred air duct, with a broken support beam crushing your leg.” Aizawa recounted, shaking his head for a moment to rid himself of the memory.

 

Hagakure had buried herself in the hospital sheets. Trying to hide.

 

“It took them a long time to find you. Much longer than it should’ve taken. Where was your high visibility vest?”

 

The last words were hissed out. She knew damn well that nobody could see her without that vest. He couldn’t fathom why…

 

“I took it off! It was getting in the way!” Came the shout from under the sheet.

 

For a moment, Aizawa was still. Just, trying to process what he’d just heard.

 

‘She… took it off…because…

 

Red began to colour Aizawa’s vision. And it had nothing to do with his quirk.

 

“Let me get this straight.” He asked, his voice deceptively calm. You wouldn’t have noticed anything different, except for the fact he had crushed the drinking glass he’d been holding.

 

“You removed your high visibility vest, the only thing that would allow the rescue teams to quickly find you”… Because it was… getting in the way?!”

 

The sheets were quivering beneath him.

 

“I… I… it would’ve gotten all tangled up in the air duct…” she shakily explained.

 

“And that’s the other thing!” He burst out, his voice finally erupting into an angry shout. “What the hell were you thinking?! Crawling into an air duct in the middle of a burning underground bunker! What did you think was going to happen?!”

 

“I had to save Midnight!” Hagakure shouted, though her voice was breaking. “Midnight was down and suffocating and I had to save her!”

 

Aizawa paused, reeling in his anger.

 

“You don’t understand!” Hagakure cried “I couldn’t leave her! If I abandoned Midnight when I thought I could save her… I couldn’t live with myself.”

 

“Well…” Aizawa started, his tone low but neutral. “If you’re planning to become a hero, you’d better find a way to live with it.”

 

Hagakure fell silent.

 

“I see them sometimes. In nightmares. The ones I couldn’t save.”

 

He looked at her again. Memories flooding through his mind.

 

“And that’s not all. What happened to you today? It will happen again. Maybe not until you’ve graduated. Maybe not until years down the line. If you’re really lucky, not until after you retire. But it WILL happen again. And it won’t always turn out so well. Look at Ectoplasm. Do you think he was born with those peg legs?”

 

The silence hung between them, the question not needing an answer.

 

Aizawa took a deep breath. He didn’t want to, but he needed to give her the choice.

 

“I can remove you from the class. Let you go back to your civilian life. To safety. There are other good jobs out there. Other ways to help people.”

 

Then he waited. Whatever her answer, he would support her. It was her choice.

 

Her choice...

 

“I’m not scared!” Hagakure burst.

 

Aizawa fell back for a moment, but quickly recovered, leaning forward and fixing her with his challenging look. Pushing her.

 

The words all came spilling out at once.

 

“Well... okay, I am. But everyone else was working so hard! If I go now then I don’t know what I’d do. I couldn’t just go back home and tell everyone that I couldn’t be a hero because I was scared of dying. Everyone's scared of dying! But if I get to die saving someone then it makes me less scared. I didn’t nearly die because I’m a hero-in-training! I nearly died because I made a mistake... I let everyone down but... but... it just makes me want to do better!”

 

Damn this girl.

 

“Good. I’m expecting a three page essay on lesser-known dangers that heroes face before you get out of the hospital. And you’d better put Midoriya to shame in PT next week, it’s time we boosted your endurance.”

 

The tension on the bedsheets dissipated. It was enough.

 

They understood each other.

 

Just then, the doors burst open of their own volition, and two sets of clothes rushed in. They were demanding to know where Toru was, if she was alright, did she need any water, and what the hell happened?!?

 

Aizawa got up to give them room. No parent should be denied the right to worry over their child.

 

He bowed on his way out, Hagakure’s parents too focused on their daughter to begin to question him. 

 

They would eventually. Aizawa was prepared for that.

 

Hagakure would be alright.

 

Hiding one final grin in his long hair, Aizawa stepped out and closed the door.

 

After all, he had nineteen other troublemakers in need of some discipline.

Notes:

Fatally injured Aizawa was the most popular request to look forward (hahahaha) to that one next week!

Thank you for *nearly* 400 subs as well. Ahhhh you're all amazing

Give some love to purplemalemute down in the comments and I'll see y'all next Friday x

Chapter 37: Solving a Murder

Summary:

If anything, this is better detective story than the plot of Detective Pikachu *cough cough*

In other words, Fatally Injured Aizawa.

Notes:

HAPPY FRIDAY!!!!

This is the LONGEST chapter yet. By far. So grab a cupper and settle in.

This prompt was HARD lol. A fatally injured Aizawa but without actually killing him off... hahahahahahaha I tried. XD

I really hope you enjoyed because I put a lot of energy into this one!!

Oh, also. TRIGGER WARNING - He is fatally injured so just be careful... graphic descriptions of blood and all that jazz.

Sunday 19th

 

“He’s in the alleyway next to me, the items that he’s stolen are in some sort of backpack. I’ll block him off by the edge of block four. Over.”

 

Aizawa tugged his capture weapon from his neck, letting it billow up into the air, quirk activating. 

 

The alleyway he was running down narrowed slightly as he made his approach. He could already see his target. There was a pole, just sticking out slightly from the tops of the bins. He bent his knees slightly, propelling himself upwards and onto the skirt of the bricks. Pushing upwards and extending an arm. 

 

His earpiece buzzed.

 

“You have back up coming from the east. Police are on their way. Over.”

 

“Got it.”

 

Flying above the streets of Tokyo, the lights from the buildings catching on his utility belt. The wind rushing through his hair, catching at his trousers. 

 

Fighting crime, even if it was just petty thefts, was what he was born to do. And when he got to it solo… This. This was all he needed. 

 

His capture weapon looped over the metal, re-enforcing itself and tightening. Aizawa used the tension to pull himself over the rooftop of the building beside him. Landing with two feet, he shifted his weight, skidding slightly, rainwater from the nearby puddles splashing up his boots. 

 

From there, he started running, diagonally across the rooftop, leaping over an air duct and retracting his capture weapon as he did. Squinting to re-aim his shot. 

 

With perfect aim, he threw his support item forwards, attaching it to the railing and hoisting himself off of the roof. Down the side of the adjoining alley. 

 

And directly in front of the culprit. 

 

A man, mid-twenties, looked up at him. His face in a mask but with daring green eyes that Aizawa could see, glinting in the moonlight. 

 

He recognized those eyes. 

 

No matter now. The thief had no escape, slinging the backpack to one side like a surrender. Looking around his surroundings. 

 

Aizawa clicked his earpiece on, releasing his grip on his capture weapon. 

 

These petty criminals were going to have to get more creative if they were going to outsmart the authorities. 

 

“I’ve cornered him. Ove- AGH SON OF A-!“

 

Aizawa pulled the, now broken, earpiece out of his head, throwing it onto the ground. His hand reached up to his ear again, wincing slightly and pulling away to reveal blood. A stone ricochetted off of the brick wall to his left, coming to a standstill by his feet. 

 

What the-

 

He couldn’t turn fast enough before there was a figure to his left, his hand on his shoulder. Trying to force him down. 

 

Aizawa pulled his arm straight upwards, twisting away from his attacker, only for another figure to come through the brick wall, knife brandished. 

 

This was planned. A planned attack. 

 

“Throw it here.”

 

The so-called thief in front of Aizawa raised a hand, his voice wavering. Fearful. Aizawa recognized the voice.

 

The new figure threw a small knife over with ease. Unafraid. 

 

He reached out for the figure who’d grabbed him, tripping them over his feet and forcing them to the floor. 

 

A light shone from in front of him. The knife the two others had exchanged was glowing amber in the darkness, the thief's quirk activated.

 

What did that have to do with-?

 

“We wanna get him in the eyes? Right?” 

 

The attacker on the floor was a female. Lucky Aizawa didn’t hold any of that misogynistic mindset. He didn’t have a problem with grinding her face into the floor for self defense. The overconfident bitch. 

 

“Yeah.” the thief replied.

 

“You know me?” Aizawa called across to him, attempting to throw his capture weapon to get a hold of his other attacker. They vanished as soon as they saw trouble, walking back through the wall on the other side of the alley. 

 

Some sort of morph type quirk. 

 

The man simply shrugged, looking down at his knife. Nervous. 

 

The woman beneath him curled in on herself, trying to escape from Aizawa’s foot. 

 

The morph guy held his hand out again. Flexing his fingers. Asking for the knife back. 

 

“And this’ll work? Yeah?”

 

The thief nodded. Morph guy laughing, bitterly. He leaned into the man, eyes still focused on Aizawa. 

 

Aizawa waited for the right moment. Hedging his bets.

 

“You’d better run then.” Morph guy whispered, just loud enough for Aizawa to catch. 

 

He was about to retort, lunge forwards, but those words weren’t intended for him. 

 

With horror, he saw the morph guy used the knife to slash the thief across the side. The thief, cried out in pain, dropping his backpack. The contents of the convenience store he’d robbed, tumbling to the floor as he pelted it down the alley.

 

“And make sure you don’t get caught easy!” Morph guy called after him. A ploy. A decoy. Something for the authorities to go after. 

 

Aizawa needed to chase after the man. Make sure he didn’t injure himself. But he couldn’t lose these two criminals either. 

 

If only he had his earpiece. 

 

Dammit. 

 

He’d have to hope that the police caught the thief and he would apprehend these two himself.

 

“What do you want from me?” he snapped.

 

He had the woman firmly under his foot, the other guy in front of him. He may have a morph type quirk but Aizawa could predict his movements. Besides, there were only four angles in which he could attack from. 

 

Aizawa liked his odds. 

 

“We want nothing from you.” the woman replied from under his feet, her laugh turning into a cough as Aizawa pushed down on her ribcage. 

 

“We just thought you looked like an easy target.” Morph guy smirked, the knife reflecting on the street lamps and mirroring his toothy grin. “Hey, sis… Catch!” 

 

The knife arched in the air, turning once, twice. It was coming towards Aizawa’s face but handle first. As long as he caught it first time, he wouldn’t have to release his footing on the woman. 

 

However, just as he raised his hand, his foot gave way, knocking him to the side slightly, forcing him to shift his position. The woman was gone. With the same quirk as her brother, she morphed through the wall to his left, grabbing the knife and-

 

White. 

 

All Aizawa could feel was white. 

 

At first, he couldn’t register what had just happened. The woman was in his face, one hand on his shoulder, the other tucked next to his elbow. 

 

Aizawa couldn’t figure out straight away why her hand was placed so awkwardly. He tried taking a breath, his throat filling with liquid. Hot. Iron…

 

Where was the knife?

 

“Want me to slash him through the eyes?” she called, her voice doubling over in Aizawa’s ears. He tried to take a breath once more, blood spilling over his mouth. 

 

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. 

 

“Nah, we’ll wait until he’s dead then we’ll rip em out.”

 

Aizawa felt the drop in his blood pressure turning his body to mush. His heart beating erratically in his chest, a wet feeling growing across his chest. He tried to focus his mind, choosing to watch one of the street lamps in the alleyway. Figuring out what to do. 

 

“How long till he’s dead?” 

 

“I didn’t aim as well as I could have done, five minutes?”

 

The light fuzzed then came to. Aizawa refused to let his life flash before his eyes. 

 

His parents came to mind. He tried blinking them away.

 

“We don’t have that kinda time. We still need to get him back before midnight or sommin.”

 

Who would teach 1A now? God, he really didn’t have time to be stabbed in the heart.

 

He gave up on his stance, his feet turning in on each other as he started dropping to the ground. 

 

Maybe if he slept…

 

“Fuckin’ fine! Don’t act like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

 

The knife in his chest twisted, the streetlamp turned an angry red color in his vision. Aizawa’s scream was muffled by the gargling of yet more blood.

 

This had to be over soon. 

 

There was a moment he before he lost consciousness. 

 

He saw a flash of a blade. 

 

Something reach towards his eyes.

 

Then…

 

 Nothing.

 

Monday 20th

 

Aizawa woke up suddenly, sitting up in his bed and gasping, clawing for breath. 

 

Light shone through the gaps in his curtains, catching the dust that was falling around his bed. 

 

Silence. 

 

Aizawa was on his feet quicker than he’d ever been, grabbing at his chest, clutching at his pajama top. 

 

There was no- Nothing… No stab wound- no… Nothing.

 

He whined at the memories flashing through his brain, feel something rising up his throat. 

 

Blood? 

 

He panted for breath, sweaty hands tugging at his hair as he felt his mouth fill with saliva. 

 

No. Vomit. 

 

Aizawa barely made it to the toilet in time to harshly empty the contents of his stomach into the basin.

 

It was a dream. Just a dream. It was just a dream.

 

Spitting into the soiled toilet water, he fell back into the wall with a sigh. He rubbed away the sleep from his eyes, trying not to keep them closed for too long. Just in case he saw images of him being murdered again.

 

Jesus, what kind of dream was that?

 

His hand made its way to the left side of his chest once more. Just in case. 

 

Defiantly nothing there. 

 

Okay. 

 

What day was it again?

 

He flushed the toilet, washing his mouth out halfheartedly and walked shakily back to his bed. He picked up his phone from the bedside, turning the screen on. 

 

6:57am 

 

Monday 05/20/19

 

Crap. It was nearly seven. His alarm was meant to go off at six, what the hell had happened?

 

He picked the alarm clock up, turning it over in his hands and inspecting the switch on the back. It wasn’t flicked on. Dammit. Had he forgotten?

 

Aizawa cast his mind back to the previous night, drawing a blank. Had he even thought to turn it on? He couldn’t even remember what he’d been up to last night. 

 

He remembered dinnertime with 1A. Vaguely. Although he didn’t remember eating with them. Was that because he was ill? Or busy? Had he been marking?

 

He paced over to his desk, test papers strewn over the top, half marked. 

 

Oh… Those were due in today. Crap. On top of all of that, he was no doubt going to be late. What time was it?

 

7:04am

 

Right, he needed to shower. Now. 

 

He was about to place his phone back down on the side when a thought crossed his mind and he picked it back up again. 

 

Calendars. 

 

He used the keypad to tap into the calendar app, working his way across to the previous day and going into it. 

 

05/19/19

 

No data.

 

Bullshit. He always had something in there.

 

He didn’t have time to think about it now. 

 

Aizawa showered quickly, avoiding his upper body with the soap. Almost as if he didn’t want to get soap into the self-imagined wound. 

 

The dream was fading now, as they commonly did. In fact, Aizawa could barely remember the events of it. Just the pain, as real as anything and the face. The face of the thief. 

 

Aizawa recognized that face. Although he didn’t particularly want to find out which of his acquaintances his mind had decided to whip up to haunt him with. 

 

He dried himself quickly, throwing on his hero wear, inspecting it for blood first, kicking himself for being so pedantic.

 

He checked his phone again. Still. Nothing.

 

7:27am

 

Well, now he was early for work. Might as well shave. 

 

What was he doing yesterday? Had he just passed out?

 

Aizawa grabbed his capture weapon from the side, the weight of the material in his hands jogging his memory. 

 

He was on patrol last night. 

 

Was he?

 

No…

 

Fuck this. 

 

He grabbed his phone once more, walking back into the bathroom and hitting speed dial on the one person he had speed dial for…

 

“Was I on patrol yesterday?” 

 

“Huh? I don’t know?” came Hizashi’s unhelpful reply from the other end of the line. Aizawa sighed and placed him on speakerphone, propping him up on the basin as he continued to shave. “I was asleep. Why?”

 

“I had some scarily realistic dream then.” Aizawa mused, lathering his face with shaving cream. 

 

“Oh! I had a dream last night!” Hizashi cried. 

 

Aizawa groaned inwardly. He grabbed his razor, wondering how he could make his excuses to leave this conversation already. 

 

“Guess what it was about!” Hizashi cut in. Too enthusiastically. 

 

“No.” 

 

Aizawa pulled his cheek over to one side. Dragging the blades down the side of his face.

 

“GUESS!” 

 

Hizashi’s voice caused the microphone on Aizawa’s Nokia to crackle, the phone vibrating so hard it fell off the sink. 

 

Aizawa managed to catch it with one hand before it fell into the toilet. But that was only at the sacrifice of cutting himself a thin line with the razor.

 

“SON of a- Hizashi!”

 

“What?!” 

 

“OW! I cut myself shaving!”

 

“Well, how was that my fault!” Hizashi cried down the line indignantly. 

 

Aizawa wondered why he’d bothered phoning him in the first place. 

 

“Because..! It… Fuck you.” Aizawa retorted, blotting the cut as best he could. The look of blood was making him feel sick. 

 

Stupid hyper-realistic dream.

 

“Well, my dream was about this sick radio DJ who was also a black cat and produced some sickkkkk beats.” Hizashi continued as Aizawa pulled the toilet paper away to reveal a speck of blood. 

 

Funny. Shaving cuts usually bled more than that.

 

“But I’m not going to tell you any more about it because I bet you don’t care!” Hizashi finished pointedly. Waiting for an answer. 

 

“You’re right.” Aizawa growled, his finger hovering over the ‘end call’ button. “I don’t.”

 

The screen of his Nokia returned to home, revealing the time.

 

7:39am

 

He was going to be late again. 

 

—

 

“There he is!’ Nemuri cried as Aizawa walked into the staffroom after homeroom was over. “Mr. Grumpy Cat.”

 

“What the hell are you on about?” Aizawa replied, dumping his unfinished markings on top of his desk. He had to get them all done this morning, seeing as he somehow put them off last night. 

 

“Hizashi told me you were in a mood.” Nemuri mused, sucking the juice out of a juice packet. “He was right.”

 

“Bad dream.” Aizawa replied, Hizashi walking through the door. 

 

Nemuri’s expression softened slightly, her tone dropping. “What was it about?”

 

“What’s up?” Hizashi asked, coming up beside them.

 

“He had a bad dream.” Nemuri replied, her eyebrows raised in a pointed manner. “That’s why he’s moody.”

 

“None of the usual dreams.” Aizawa waved them away. “I’m fine. Just… I don’t know, spaced out. What was I doing last night?”

 

“I don’t know I didn’t see you. Also, I don’t know what you were on about.” Hizashi continued to remark, pointing dangerously close to Aizawa’s face. “There’s no shaving cut.”

 

“Yes there-“

 

Aizawa stopped, his hand feeling the place where the mark had once been. The skin unbroken. Stubbled. 

 

His eyebrows furrowed as he walked across to the kitchenette, bending down to study his face in the reflection of the microwave.

 

“Shaving?” Midnight asked after him with a smirk. “Shitty shaving if that’s what you’re left with. Or are you going for the homeless look?”

 

Aizawa would have retorted. Snapped at her. But she was right. The cut was gone. Course hair covered the lower part of his face just as thick as before. 

 

It was as if he’d never shaved. 

 

Tuesday 21st

 

Aizawa stared at himself in the mirror Tuesday morning, wondering whether he’d been pranked by some kind of ‘hair growth’ quirk.

 

He’d shaved last night. He knew he had shaved last night. As soon as he’d finished teaching for the day he’d gone into his room and shaved every inch of facial hair off. Just to be sure. 

 

And now it was back. The cut remained missing but still. 

 

This wasn’t normal. Who the hell was growing his hair back? And why? Who did that? 

 

Probably some kid but Aizawa didn’t know of anybody that had a quirk that had this kind of lasting effect on other people. 

 

He wasn’t going to shave again, he decided. Just to spite whoever it was that had done this to him. Fuck them ’n all. 

 

His phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. He picked it up swiftly, grabbing a quick glance at the caller id. 

 

“Hello?”

 

“Aizawa, just a quick one.”

 

Kobayashi’s voice cut through the speakerphone, the head detective’s tone tired. 

 

“Shoot.” Aizawa replied, leaving the bathroom and pacing around his room for something to do.

 

“There’s been a high alert from Koto ward. We have a murder but no body and this morning the station received a videotape. No fingerprints, no context.”

 

Aizawa perked up. 

 

“Why are you telling me?” he asked curiously. 

 

“This all seemingly went on Sunday. Just gone ten.” Kobayashi replied, a grit in his tone that caused Aizawa’s stomach to drop. “I’m only asking now because it’s going to come up in conversation later. Where did you go?” 

 

Aizawa gulped instinctively. He didn’t know. 

 

“What do you mean?” he asked instead, his mind trying desperately to claw back to Sunday, eyes squinted. 

 

“You...” Kobayashi sighed pointedly the sound of shuffling coming over the phone. “You’re line went dead. Halfway through your shift.” 

 

So he had gone on patrol. 

 

“Look it’s not that I don’t trust you.” Kobayashi was quick to add. “But it’s going to come up in meetings and you’re going to look like some sort of suspect.”

 

“Suspect?” Aizawa questioned, his voice instinctively lowering in volume. 

 

“Depends what this videotape says.” Kobayashi replied. “But it’s seemingly linked with the murder scene. Which was in your patrol area.”

 

Aizawa felt sick. Now the memory loss made sense… If someone was going to commit a murder then they would need the one person who had the authority to stop it, out of the way. 

 

Him.

 

“Look I shouldn’t be disclosing all of-

 

“-I need to have a conversation with you.” Aizawa cut in, shutting Kobayashi up mid-sentence. “I don’t have any memory of Sunday evening. Past six pm, nothing. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it but I didn’t think it was anything to do with patrol. I don’t think I even knew I was on patrol.”

 

“Right. Okay. When can you come in?” Kobayashi replied quickly. 

 

“I have homeroom here. I can be at the station by midday?” 

 

“Make it the Tokyo headquarters.” Kobayashi corrected, voice low. “Also, you don’t happen to have a video player do you?”

 

“No...”

 

“Damn.” 

 

Aizawa nearly scoffed at the thought of the Tokyo police headquarters being stumped by a videotape.

 

“I think Present Mic has one.” Aizawa stated. “I can ask him? Potentially bring it with me this afternoon.”

 

“Ah, perfect.” Kobayashi replied before he changed tact slightly. “I will send somebody to retrieve it if that’s the case, however.” 

 

“Right. Sure.”

 

That made sense. Aizawa had something to do with the crime now.

 

Potentially. 

 

“I’ll let you go.” Kobayashi said lightly, Aizawa swapping the handset from one sweaty palm to another. 

 

This was probably going to be the most light-hearted conversation he would have in a while. 

 

The two said their goodbyes, Aizawa collecting his gradings and trying not to think about what must have happened on Sunday night for someone to get away with murder right under his nose.

 

And if it came out that he was on patrol. As it was very likely to…

 

UA wasn’t Aizawa’s favorite place but he certainly didn’t want to have to give it up. 

 

As he exited his room, he heard a familiar voice call to him from the end of the corridor.

 

“Morning Aizawa-Sensei!” Ashido called. Bright and cheerful. She had a pile of washing in her arms, kicking the door open with her foot. 

 

“Morning Ashido.” he replied, approaching the door and stepping through, turning to hold it open for his student. 

 

Ashido grinned, ducking under Aizawa’s arm. She raised one hand, pointing to her ear. 

 

“You’re bleeding.” she stated. 

 

Aizawa raised a hand to his right ear and pulled it back, revealing blood.

 

A small graze, just below the top of his ear. Annoying more than anything else. 

 

“Thank you.” he replied earnestly. 

 

“What are we doing in homeroom today?” Ashido continued as the two climbed the stairs. 

 

Aizawa pushed the phone call out of his mind. 

 

For now.

 

Wednesday 22nd

 

“Hizashi. Do me a favor would you? Massage my shoulder? It really fucking aches.”

 

Aizawa tried to whisper to the man, Hizashi leaning across the table towards the biscuits in the center of the room. 

 

“Do you want a pocky?” he replied, Aizawa sighing pointedly.

 

The two, along with most of the other pro hero’s in the district, were sat around a meeting table in the Tokyo police headquarters. 

 

Things had gotten serious. 

 

The previous day, Aizawa had undergone multiple tests to prove his alibi for Sunday morning. A brain scan revealed that, although his brain was fine, some sort of amnesia definitely had gone on. The medical, however, came back normal. All of which was taken as evidence towards the case and since eleven pm to now, (eight thirty in the morning) a meeting had gone on to get to the bottom of what happened that day. 

 

Aizawa didn’t know why such a crime required so many pro’s, but he figured that it had something to do with the videotape. 

 

Which they still hadn’t shown to the group. 

 

Seemed like everyone had to go through screening first, to make sure they were who they said they were. With quirks like Toga’s about, anything was possible. 

 

At least they were providing snacks. That was keeping Hizashi amused. It was weird seeing Fat Gum not eat. The man was in his normal form, sat making animated conversation with Cermentos and Ms Joke. 

 

Aizawa was going his utmost to avoid Ms Joke.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want a pocky?” Hizashi asked, placing the biscuit under Aizawa’s nose. 

 

Aizawa brushed it away with his elbow, his hand reached across to try and massage the shoulder by himself. It fucking hurt. Probably from being cooped up in a meeting for nine hours. 

 

Not as bad as the thought that Yagi was currently teaching his homeroom class. That was terrifying. 

 

“And can you get your bloody tissues off of the table?” Hizashi continued, swiping at the little pile Aizawa had been piling up.

 

“I don’t want a pocky, I want a coffee.” Aizawa murmured in reply. “And I’m sorry. The cut on my ear won’t heal up.”

 

“Five coffees in two hours is a bit excessive?” Vlad King commented from beside them. Aizawa gave him a look. 

 

“Everybody’s different.” Aizawa drawled back. As he turned back, he caught Endeavour's eye. The man looked at him, his eyes narrowed. Already giving him the evils. 

 

It would have been chilling. If Hawks wasn’t asleep on his shoulder. 

 

“Okay! Thank you for waiting!” Kobayashi voice run through the room. He was backed up by senior officers, coming forward to the top of the table, one of them rolling in an old style television. Almost as if they were back in primary school.

 

This was it. 

 

“The screenings are done, thank you for your patience.” he continued. “I hope those of you that have been screened have all had time to read through the information packs about the crime.”

 

Aizawa had. Well, he’d skimmed through it. The pictures of the crime scene looked horrifying. There was a lot of blood. And if he hadn’t been hit by whatever amnesia quirk, he could have been there to save them. 

 

“I think it would be best to show you the videotape before we continue.” Kobayashi stated, the lights flicking off as he talked. “It would help to explain why we have all of you here.”

 

There was a whir as the video player started up, the television screen crackling into black and white before a colored screen fizzled into life. 

 

On the screen two figures sat, side by side in some sort of basement? Aizawa couldn’t tell. The figures wore black masks which covered the entirety of their faces. Save their eyes. 

 

They spoke. A spine chilling speech, their voices modulated into low pitched cackles. 

 

‘We’re going to keep it real simple. Okay? The League is hiring and we wanna prove ourselves. So. One of you pro’s is gonna die.’

 

‘We’re not going to tell you who and we’re not going to when. ‘Cause where’s the fun in that? EH? But we will present you with the truth. We’ll have one of your heroes eyes. Like a kinda trophy yeah?’

 

‘Hopefully, you figured out how to use the video player. ‘Cause you don’t have long left.’

 

The recording cut out just as quickly as it started. Aizawa was left feeling sick. 

 

It was something about those figures. The way they spoke. Aizawa recognized something about it. 

 

The lights flickered on, the room noticeably unsettled. Kobayashi coughed lightly as the video player was removed. 

 

Endeavour was the first to speak. 

 

“Why are we worrying about such an empty threat?” 

 

The room shifted slightly. 

 

“From what we know, they’ve killed already.” Kobayashi replied. “It wasn’t a pro though. All the pro’s are present and correct in the prefecture and surrounding areas, so it was safe to say it was a warning. Of what they could do. Before they aim for one of us.”

 

“Could it have been a vigilante?” Aizawa spoke up. 

 

“Not to our knowledge.” Kobayashi replied. “Unless you know anything.”

 

“I haven’t worked with them for a while now.” Aizawa replied pointedly. Feeling the stares. 

 

“So it was a civilian?” Mt Lady asked from the back of the room. Steering the conversation on track. 

 

“Or a student? Someone with a provisional license instead?” Backdraft added. 

 

“There’s been one report of a missing person.” Kobayashi replied. “We can’t reveal their name, not until we have their families permission-“

 

“Really?” Midnight called. “There’s been a death threat. Towards one of us.”

 

“We have to follow protocol. I’m sorry.” 

 

“Who cares?” Endeavour’s voice boomed across the room. At first, Aizawa thought the question was directed towards Kobayashi but he was really faced towards Midnight, his fire blazing. “We are pro hero’s. We get death threats everyday. Why should we act any differently to this one?”

 

“I agree.” Kobayashi replied. “But we believe these villains to have some sort of amnesia quirk among them. It’s how they killed the first time.”

 

Aizawa felt his cheeks burn. 

 

“If anyone tries. I’ll kill them myself.” Endeavour spat, getting up from his seat. “We should be focused on taking down the league.” 

 

And with that. He left. The door slamming behind him. 

 

“We’re done with the formalities here, right?” Hawks asked, getting up and following. He didn’t wait for much of an answer before following Endeavour. 

 

Meeting over then.

 

“This may seem excessive.” Kobayashi spoke, his voice level. “But this isn’t an empty threat. They’ve killed before and they seem to know what they’re doing.”

 

“Do they?” Kamari Woods was the next to speak, sitting back in his chair, coffee cup in hand. “That tape kinda didn’t make much sense. What did the bit about the eyes mean?”  

 

“We assume it meant that they’ll present the victim's eyes as a means of identification after the killing.” Kobayashi explained. 

 

“That’s a bit morbid.” Ms Joke commented with a sigh. 

 

“Their grammar is appalling.” Kamari Woods commented. 

 

“Seriously?!” Fat Gum was the next to speak up, rolling his eyes rather openly at his superior. 

 

“It doesn’t matter!” Kobayashi called over the commotion. “A threat’s a threat. And if the League of Villains really is hiring then they’re growing in numbers. We need to stop this situation before it escalates further.” 

 

“That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said in the whole nine hours.” Vlad King grumbled. “But still. This was delivered Sunday right? They haven’t done anything in nearly four days.”

 

Aizawa wondered if they were acting like children as a result of exhaustion or some kind of defense mechanism. 

 

Like Kobayashi had said. A threat was a threat. And every single one of them in the room was on some sort of kill list. 

 

“We’re doing our utmost to find out who they are and what their intentions could be as well as keep you all informed.” Kobayashi continued, ignoring Vlad King. “Any new information we’ll send to you directly. We want to impose some new safety procedures as well...

 

Kobayashi voice faded into the background and Aizawa’s mind drifted to the throbbing in his shoulder. 

 

Nothing from the medical report... but safe to say he did have amnesia. 

 

So how? And when. 

 

But most importantly. What. Had. Happened? 

 

Thursday 23rd

 

It was as if they knew.

 

The next videotape came through that evening, encrypted and sent out to the pro’s targeted. 

 

Nezu had arranged a meeting for the UA teachers to watch it together. 

 

They were made to sit down at the kid's desks, watch the tape on the whiteboard. Like some kind of sickening cinema screening. 

 

This tape was weirder. A song, playing through the speakers, piano chords before a soft female voice filled the room. Breathy and in English. 

 

‘The news came to Jesus, please come fast.

Lazarus is sick and without your help, he will not last.

Mary and Martha watched their brother die.

They waited for Jesus, He did not come.

They wondered why’

 

“What the hell is this?” Vlad King asked, halfway through the first verse. 

 

“Present Mic?” Ectoplasm asked, the group turning to him.

 

“Huh? I don’t know? Something about Jesus not turning up to this sick party?”

 

“Jesus is a God right?” Aizawa asked on behalf of him. 

 

“Let’s ask Siri.” Midnight replied, standing up and walking closer to the speaker. “Siri, what song is this?”

 

It took a few moments before Midnights phone spoke back to her. No one said anything in the meantime. No one really knew what to say. 

 

‘I believe this song is Four Days Late by Karen Peck and New River. Please don’t ask me to sing it though.’

 

“Did that ring any bells for anyone?” Vlad King asked through gritted teeth. 

 

He looked especially out of place, tucked behind a teenagers desk. 

 

“Four days late. Hmmmm...” Nezu pouted, hopping up onto the teacher's desk, leaning on his paws. “I am assuming it is in relation to the next murder. That it will take place in four days time... Or took place four days ago...”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Snipe commented. 

 

“Or maybe it’s not about the murder at all!” Yagi offered. 

 

“Unlikely.” Nezu replied. “I assume they are pushing this image to be ‘god-like’. Besides, murdering one of us is their ultimate goal.” 

 

Brilliant. 

 

That was just the information they needed to boost morale. 

 

—

 

The last thing Aizawa wanted to do was go on patrol that night.

 

Nothing about the potential death threat. He just felt ill. 

 

Run down and lethargic with some sort of heartburn. Just his luck to get ill on the week he was needed the most. 

 

Those who taught at UA had been asked to stay at UA during the nights as well as their days. It was in an effort to protect them, safety in numbers and all that. 

 

None of the students knew. The crime itself wasn’t that serious. And besides, this videotape had been received on Sunday. It was now Thursday and no murders had happened. 

 

“Shota, you gonna shave anytime soon?” 

 

Oh yeah. And because the UA teachers had to stay at UA overnight, Aizawa had ended up having two new roommates. In the forms of Nemuri and Hizashi. 

 

Just his luck. 

 

“I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” Aizawa replied with a sigh. He wondered if the hair growth quirk had worn off yet. 

 

“Do it before you go to work.” Nemuri replied with a grin. She was sat in his chair reading a book, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose. 

 

“No. I can’t be bothered.” Aizawa replied. 

 

“You’re a slob.” Nemuri commented with a laugh. 

 

Aizawa didn’t have the energy to laugh back. He continued to lie, curled up on his bed as Hizashi came crashing into his room. 

 

“Okayyyyyy then!” he cried. “You have twenty kids up in their rooms and in their beds! I even read them a bedtime story entitled ‘Aizawa’s most embarrassing moments as a student at UA’!”

 

“You moron.” Aizawa spat, Nemuri giggling. 

 

“Do you want a coffee before you go on patrol?” Hizashi asked, ignoring the comment. 

 

“No.”

 

“Wait really?” Nemuri asked, her eyebrows raised. “Aizawa. Turning down coffee?”

 

“Fuck off.” Aizawa replied pointedly. “I have heartburn, so coffee will make it worse. Right?”

 

“Awn Shota!” Hizashi cooed, leaning down to attempt to hug the man. Aizawa pushed him away, getting up and reaching for his utility belt.

 

His vision went fuzzy for a moment but he regained it quickly. 

 

“Are you sure you should be going to work?” Nemuri asked. “You look like shit.”

 

“So do you without makeup.”

 

Nemuri, unfortunately, took offense to that, Aizawa immediately regretting his choice of words. 

 

“Fucking fine. Be a twat then.” she snapped at him, pushing her glasses up and burrowing her face in her book. 

 

Aizawa would have apologized but he didn’t have the energy. Instead, he grabbed his capture weapon and his phone, leaving the room. Ten minutes early for his shift for once. 

 

He was going to avoid the alley where the murder took place. At all costs.

 

Friday 24th

 

Patrol, in the end, had gone fine. Two petty thefts, one knife crime and three drunken brawls. 

 

Aizawa had gotten through it with ease. Even if his heartburn hadn’t let up. 

 

He’d manage to catch up with Kobayashi as well. Being basically trapped inside UA was a real hindrance to communications. 

 

“It seemed from tracking the videotape that the two villains were at least family.” the head of the police had informed him once Aizawa had tracked the man down. 

 

He looked about as tired as Aizawa felt, his eyes heavy, his shoulders weighted. Photos and potential leads stuck above his desk space, intermixed with convenience store bento boxes and coffee cups. 

 

“How do you know?” Aizawa asked in reply, sitting down at the desk opposite his superior, trying not to wince too loudly as pain shouted through his chest.

 

“Their voice patterns matched.” Kobayashi replied. If he’d noticed Aizawa’s gasp of pain he hadn’t shown it, give a slight rise of his right eyebrow. “They also both had brown eyes, no contacts or anything that we could make a note of. But that’s not really much of a clue.”

 

The annoyance was apparent in the man's voice. Aizawa wondered if he was getting paid extra for this. Wondering if he was getting paid at all. 

 

“Anything coming back to you about Sunday?”

 

Aizawa felt heat rise through his cheeks. 

 

“No.”

 

The weight grew heavier. 

 

Aizawa wasn’t a fan of being a burden. He was aware, hyper-aware, that he must have the key. He must have the answers, tucked away in his subconscious somewhere. 

 

So did Kobayashi and so did everyone else. 

 

“There’s... um...” 

 

Kobayashi turned from where he was, sifting through papers, reports falling from where they laid on the desk, onto the flood. It took him a while to find what he was looking for but soon he brandished some sort of pamphlet, handing it Aizawa’s way. 

 

“This leaflet. On short-term memory loss.” he continued as Aizawa looked at the booklet in his hands. It was full of obnoxious looking picture of Westerners looking unnaturally cheerful. “Done by some amazing people in the States...” 

 

Kobayashi trailed off with a sigh. Aizawa wondered if he spoke now, would it come off as too sarcastic. 

 

“I know it’s a long shot.” Kobayashi spoke before him. “Your memory loss being quirk related… It may be worth a try at least.”

 

Aizawa nodded. He’d look at it later.

 

For now, he needed to go home. The stuffy office acting as Kobayashi's temporary ‘home’ was causing his airways to clog, the left side of his chest wheezing with the effort. 

 

It was almost 3:30am as well. 

 

At least when he got home there would be a nice empty- 

 

Ah wait...

 

Nemuri and Hizashi were still sleeping in Aizawa’s room. 

 

And Nemuri still wasn’t speaking to Aizawa....

 

Then again he hadn’t apologized. 

 

He would... He would.

 

Saturday 25th

 

“How do you make one of your teas?” He’d decided to ask Yaoyorozu just after midnight that night. 

 

He’d caught her in the kitchen after dinner. She’d been humming some pop tune, stopping abruptly as soon as she’d caught him. 

 

He had no idea why. She must have known that she could be heard singing in her shower each morning. 

 

Although looking at her in the kitchen now, red faced… maybe not.

 

“My teas?” 

 

“Yeah…” Aizawa replied, feeling his own face going red. “The one with the tea leaves that look like a flower thing and then when you add the water it kind of… Expands?”

 

She looked up at him properly, first in bewilderment but then a small smile crossing her face. 

 

“Oh… Well, you need a special tea bag if you want to do one of the blooming flower ones.” she replied, Aizawa nodding. 

 

“Yeah, those ones…” he trailed off, wondering how to ask her if she had any without looking… Odd?

 

Yaoyorozu, luckily, got there first, throwing him a knowing smile and reaching into a top cupboard. 

 

Aizawa yawned slightly, cursing his sleep schedule. He still had most of the classes marking to do before Monday, hoping to get the majority done tonight. As he breathed out his throat tightened. Wheezed. Aizawa let his arm drop as his chest gave out an all too familiar tinge. 

 

Oh no. It was happening again. 

 

“Does Midnight want one?” Yaoyorozu offered, before pulling a metal tin out and prising the lid open on the top of the counter. She hadn’t noticed anything wrong with her homeroom teacher. Thank goodness. “Don’t tell anyone where I keep them.”

 

“I won’t.” he smiled tiredly, watching as she clicked the hob back on, loading up the kettle. Trying to keep the pain at bay. “You shouldn’t be up. It’s past midnight.”

 

“I was revising for the maths mock.” she tried to justify before looking up, pointing. “Do you want a plaster as well?”

 

Aizawa’s hand went to his ear.

 

“Is it still bleeding? Fuck’s sa-“

 

He stopped himself quickly. Yaoyorozu smirked slightly, dropping down to get a plaster from a lower cupboard. 

 

“You didn’t hear that.”

 

God, he was tired. And fuck he needed Yaoyorozu to leave. Now. Before he couldn’t grit his teeth any harder. 

 

“Hear what?” Yaoyorozu replied with a wink, pouring hot water into a mug and pushing it over towards her teacher. She held the plaster up. “Did you want me to do it?’

 

“It’s okay kid.” Aizawa replied, taking the plaster from his student, noticing his hand shaking. “Stop revising now okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

She nodded, smiling warmly, taking her own mug before walking down the corridor. Aizawa watched her go, one ear craned towards the door. 

 

As soon as the door clicked, he buckled. 

 

One hand clutching at his chest, grabbing so hard he could feel his nails through his jumper. A sharp scratch causing him to his, his face screwing up, teeth clenched. Whimpering. 

 

His heart started beating faster and faster, re-living events that he couldn’t even recall, pumping adrenaline around his body with such a vengeance that he could feel the blood in his fingertips and toes. The skin felt tight around them, Aizawa heartbeat becoming irregular, forcing something, anything to happen. 

 

And then it stopped. 

 

Aizawa instinctively fell backward, his hands just about breaking his fall as he sat himself against the kitchen counter. Breathing heavily, one hand rushing to feel his pulse. 

 

Normal.  

 

Okay. 

 

He was almost worried but… 

 

Balancing the plaster on top of his hand, he carried the mug back onto his room, placing it onto the table. He motioned to Nemuri who had nestled herself in his bed, pj’s already on. Hizashi was doing a shift at the radio station.

 

She looked up, eyebrow raised. Her face softening slightly. 

 

“For me?” 

 

“I don’t know what flavour it is or anything.” he shrugged.

 

There was a pause. Aizawa wondered if it looked as if he’d just run a marathon. 

 

His mouth opened, then closed, before finally...

 

“You look pretty with or without make up. You don’t need it or anything but it… enhances your face?”

 

Nemuri gave him a look, which lasted two seconds before she burst into laughter. 

 

“Shota you’re an idiot. It’s fine. I knew you didn’t mean it, you were just feeling ill.”

 

Aizawa sighed, a breath as deep as he could muster. 

 

“Yeah. Anyway, sorry.” 

 

Nemuri took the cup in both hands as Aizawa took her place on the bed, pulling the covers up around his knees as he leant against the wall. She cocked her head at him as she did. 

 

“Are you still feeling ill?” she asked, walking up to him and placing a hand on his forehead. “No temperature, you’re a bit cold if anything. But you didn’t try and move my hand so maybe you really are ill.”

 

“I’m just tired.” Aizawa replied, eyes rolling. 

 

Nemuri’s phone rang suddenly, forcing her to pull her hand away. Aizawa could feel his own phone buzzing in his pocket, pulling it out to show the same caller ID. 

 

Nezu. 

 

“I think it a conference call? But at this time…?” Nemuri started as they looked down at their devices. “You answer, you’ve got more battery than me.”

 

Aizawa scoffed slightly hitting answer on the call. 

 

Music started playing through the speaker, so loudly that Aizawa had to pull it away from his ear, no need for speaker phone. 

 

Almost like a weird club song, synth piano and heavy bass filling the room. A taunting melody over and over and over. 

 

“What the hell is this…” Aizawa started as their phones beeped once more. 

 

Nemuri looked this time, relaxing slightly, her hand on her chest. 

 

“It’s okay, it’s okay…”

 

She pulled the message up so Aizawa could see it clearly;

 

‘The call contains the next message from the third video tape. Please get in touch with any findings you may have.

We have already deduced that the song is entitled ‘Satsugai gēmu o hajimemashou’ or ‘Lets Start the Killing Game. 

It is from the game series Danganronpa, which is known for being set in a high school. 

So it is safe to assume a teacher at UA is the target.

Principle Nezu.’

 

“Okay. Can we turn the racket off now?” Aizawa hissed as he finished reading. Nemuri nodded and Aizawa hung up on the call. “Couldn’t he have sent that message before calling?!”

 

“You would have thought…” Nemuri muttered. “So it’s one of us then. And soon. If they’re being literal about the whole ‘let’s start’ thing.”

 

“Could all be fake.” Aizawa replied.

 

“Could all be fake.” Nemuri echoed. 

 

His chest twinged again, the constant sharp pain twisting and causing him to hiss slightly through his teeth. Nemuri narrowed her eyes at him, her best ‘doctor’ look staring straight through him. 

 

Dammit. 

 

“Where does it hurt?” 

 

“I’m fine.” Aizawa replied, attempting to sigh. It came out as a low wheeze, further adding to Nemuri’s suspicion. 

 

“I’m not going to treat you like a child.” she replied. 

 

“Good.” Aizawa remarked, saying nothing and holding his stance. It would have been effective, if his stance wasn’t slumped over on the bed. 

 

“Shota.”

 

“It’s just the heartburn okay?” he replied. “I just need some sleep.” 

 

“Go to sleep then.” Nemuri gave up, shrugging before she picked up her tea, relaxing slightly. “Don’t worry the kids, I’ll look after them if they need it.”

 

“It’s too early.” he pouted, looking towards the clock. Which read 00:32am.

 

“There’s no prize for staying up late.” she remarked with a smirk. 

 

“Wake me up in an hour. I have marking.” Aizawa snapped, though his tone lacked any sort of resentment. He shifted his position downwards, closing his eyes lightly. 

 

“Yeah. Sure…” Nemuri smirked. But Aizawa barely caught it, succumbing to sleep.

 

This had better be gone by tomorrow.

 

—

 

Aizawa woke up to the phone ringing. His eyes shot open only to see darkness, save the flicker of a phone screen coming to life and the figure of Nemuri reaching across for it. 

 

“Hello?” she whispered as Aizawa leant across for the bedside light. His whole body ached as he did, a dull pain that caused him to grit his teeth in response. 

 

The room illuminated, revealing the time. 

 

02:23am

 

Nemuri had never woken him up. 

 

She was properly sat up now, phone to her ear. Listening. She looked up at Aizawa as he moved, her forehead creased. Listening. 

 

“What’s happened?” Aizawa hissed, looking at his own phone. Seven missed calls. “Who died?”

 

Nemuri didn’t reply straight away, her expression paled. 

 

Hizashi.

 

Aizawa was up, reaching for his radio, flicking it onto the right channel. Listening for his best friends. Fearing the worst.

 

“AND THAT WAS THE NEW SONG FROM-!”

 

Aizawa shut it off as soon as he heard Hizashi’s voice. 

 

He was alive. 

 

“What are you doing?!” Nemuri hissed at him from across the room. 

 

“Who’s dead?” Aizawa asked again. Nemuri ignored him, speaking into the phone and turning away slightly. 

 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t just now. Okay, I will.”

 

Aizawa tried to move towards her but the blood rushed to his head all at once, forcing him to stay still. 

 

His heart was pounding. Verging on full on the full heart attack level that it was earlier. 

 

He needed to hold it together. 

 

“Okay sure. Thank you. Yep, thank you. Bye.”

 

Nemuri hung up, placing the phone on the side and finally turning to face Aizawa. 

 

“No one’s died. Just come and sit down Shota.”

 

She beckoned him forwards and Aizawa mustered up the energy to sit back down on the bed. His body instinctively curled forward as he took in a shaky breath. 

 

Jeez. What was getting into him?

 

“What was that about then?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

 

“Because you needed sleep.” Nemuri replied simply. “You were out of it for the most part. I think you’re ill Shota.”

 

“You don’t say.” he hissed back, somewhat giving in. Nemuri rolled her eyes, getting up and padding her way over to the radio, turning it off properly. 

 

“They found the guy who went missing. He’s injured. Badly. He’s in intensive care, induced coma, should pull through.” Nemuri informed him as she came back to sit on the floor in front of Aizawa, yawning as she did. “He couldn’t have been the guy who the villains murdered first though, which kind of complicates things.”

 

Aizawa took in the information half-heartedly, his mind tripping up over the words. 

 

“What does that mean?” he ended up asking, hoping Nemuri would catch onto the subtext. She did, leaning back with a sad smile.

 

“They phoned to let us know that it was an ex-student from UA.” she replied. “The guy they found that is. He’d been stealing from local convenience stores on the Sunday night. It’s not clear weather he was linked to the crime or not but he got in the way somehow. But yeah, UA, in the spotlight again!”

 

She laughed, halfheartedly, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

 

“What was his name?” Aizawa asked. 

 

“Kurami Setio.”

 

The name rung a faint bell in Aizawa’s subconscious. 

 

“Was he at UA whilst we were teaching?”

 

“I think so. I think he was in the General Studies department.” Nemuri replied. “I have a feeling he wanted to be in the hero course. The name reminds me of something.”

 

“Same here.” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Anyway, that’s it.” Nemuri replied. “They just wanted to let us know that UA may be a target, once again.”

 

“It never get’s old.” Aizawa drawled, Nemuri smirking. “What does this mean now though? Some villains have murdered someone but no one can find the guy they’ve murdered and now they’re threatening to murder a pro hero and shove their eyes to the league as some sort of reward.” 

 

“I dont know.” Nemuri shrugged. “Maybe they never murdered anyone in the first place. Maybe they faked it.”

 

“Maybe.” Aizawa sighed. 

 

Some alarm was going off in his head but he couldn’t be bothered to work out why right now. 

 

It probably didn’t even matter. 

 

“Did you spill something down you?” Nemuri asked suddenly, pointing to Aizawa’s top. She pulled her finger away, coated with crimson and gasped. “Shota?!”

 

Aizawa turned away instinctively but could already feel his pulse rising. He pulled his top away from his chest, looking down at the bloody sight. 

 

Nerumi had already flicked the light on, the sudden glare causing Aizawa to wince once more. “Top off. Now.”

 

Aizawa wanted to argue but the suddenness of the situation simply made him comply. He wasn’t one to get scared at all but he could feel the adrenaline hitting the back of his throat, the hairs on his arms standing on end as he dragged his top over his head. 

 

He looked down, eyebrows furrowed as Nemuri came closer, her face ashen. 

 

A thin cut, no more the length of Aizawa’s pinky finger, was trailing blood across his left peck. The weight of the shirt he’d been wearing had caused it to stain, drying at the edges but there was still blood trickling out. Forming a sticky layer as it hit the air of the room. 

 

“What did you do?” Nemuri asked, her voice a low whisper instead of her normal brashy tone. She was scared. Aizawa had made her scared. 

 

“I…”

 

He didn’t know. His mind tried to think back, something must have happened, maybe when he grabbed at his chest in the kitchen. Or during his sleep?

 

He didn’t notice Nemuri leave the room and reappear, pressing a cold, wet, towel onto his chest. The suddenness of it made him shiver lightly but she held fast, applying more pressure, the towel seeping in red. 

 

She was close now. So close that Aizawa could smell the sweet scent her hair, see where she’d drawn on her eyebrows with pencil. He’d never understood why she did that. 

 

He didn’t like her like that. She was nothing more than a friend. But Aizawa found himself longing the intimacy, the closeness of someone who knew him well enough to not need words. Aizawa didn’t know if it was just because he was ill but something felt like it was ending. But there was something so nostalgic about the situation. 

 

It did end. Nemuri pulled the towel away, grabbing the medical kit and dressing the cut. Aizawa sat back on the bed, letting his mind wash in and out, waves of pain taking away from his sanity. 

 

“It’s not deep.” Nemuri concluded. “Did you scratch yourself?”

 

“I think so.” Aizawa answered. On autopilot. 

 

“Okay well it should heal up now.” she replied, backing up to look at her handiwork. “You need to stop scaring me like that.”

 

“I can’t make promises.” 

 

“You bloody will if it’s me.”

 

Aizawa grinned as best as he could. Nemuri smiled back but it wasn’t genuine. 

 

“Go back to sleep, I’m going to read for a bit.” she stated, grabbing her book from the side and moving over to her futon. 

 

Aizawa would have argued but the left side of his body ached. He just wanted to curl up in a ball and stay there until whatever he had caught, went away. 

 

“What are you reading?” he asked as he laid down once more. 

 

“Charles Dickens.” Nemuri replied. “I’m practicing my English.”

 

“Good for you…” Aizawa managed to reply before his eyes slid shut once more. 

 

Sunday 26th

 

Aizawa woke up cold. 

 

His dream had been about him drowning, a fever dream that felt so real that it was almost as if he was soaked in real life. 

 

And then he realised. Just before he opened his eyes. 

 

He was soaked. 

 

Aizawa shot up in bed, but his body only followed through halfway before failing him, causing him to pitch sideways. Coughing, spluttering, wheezing. 

 

Everything was red. 

 

The top of his bedsheets were sticking to his skin with blood, the bandage Nemuri had placed over his chest so sodden that it was coming away, the medical tape too wet to stick. 

 

Aizawa took a shaky breath as his vision faded in and out. He turned his hands over in front of his face the dried blood flaking off of his fingertips, the rest dripping down his wrists. 

 

He closed his eyes and focused his mind. 

 

He had to think. 

 

Blood spread fast and it stained so the fact that he was alive probably meant that he hadn’t lost too much blood. Yet. 

 

He hadn’t looked at his chest yet but it was safe to say that he was still bleeding. The left side of his chest was unbearable, every time he breathed him it intensified to the point of him feeling nauseous. 

 

He hadn’t done this to himself. He couldn’t have. 

 

Which meant. Something else did. 

 

Finally, finally, things started to come together in Aizawa’s mind.

 

He opened his eyes gingerly, purposely not looking down at his chest. Instead, he reached along the floor beside his bed, stretching his fingers out for his capture weapon, clawing a the fabric. He almost made it before his balance gave way, sending him sliding from his bed to the floor as he cried out in pain. His vision faded dramatically, as if the light switch had been turned off and on again. Darkness then light. 

 

He swallowed back bile, grabbing at his capture weapon and hauling it around his waist. He pulled it upwards, letting it slide across his abdomen, gasping as it hit his chest wound, turning crimson in an instant before activating it. The metal fibres immedianctly reacted, locking into place and pulling inwards, almost like a corset. Aizawa waited until he could hardly breath before stopping, holding it there. Keeping as much of the blood in as possible. 

 

Buying himself some time. 

 

He looked to his bedside table, his clock coming in and out of focus. The last digit was covered by a note but Aizawa could already make out what it read.

 

5:48pm

 

Oh no. Oh crap. 

 

He looked down at the note, praying for something. Some answers, anything. No matter how unlikely it would seem.

 

“We didn’t want to wake you.

 

Hope you feel better soon, but don’t push yourself!

 

We’ll be back at 7.

 

H and N x”

 

He couldn’t be here when they got back. 

 

He shoved on as many layers as humanly possible to stop the persistent shivering and set off out of his room. Leaving the note and the bloody room behind. 

 

He didn’t have a way to hide it. And he had just over an hour before anyone discovered it. 

 

  Kurami Setio

 

He avoided the classrooms, which was hard considering how many breaks he ended up having to take just to catch his breath. 

 

He didn’t want to bump into any students. 

 

He didn’t think he had the time. 

 

He rapped on the door to Principle Nezu’s office praying that the hybrid wouldn’t be in. 

 

Luck was on his side. 

 

Passing his bosses desk he made his way to the back of the room, pulling himself into the small cupboard and closing the door behind him. Nearly sinking into the wall, forcing himself upwards as pain shot through his chest. He grabbed the left side of his body, swaying dangerously on his feet. 

 

He should be phoning an ambulance but he had a sneaky feeling there was no point. 

 

Inside the cupboard, the walls were covered in filing cabinets labelled A-Z. Folders and documentation stacked up in every nook and cranny, reaching as high as the ceiling but organised. In place. 

 

And inside the folders? Every single file on every single student since UA opened. Their quirks, their class and their status. 

 

Dead or alive. 

 

Aizawa’s eyes groggily scanned the fronts of the cabinets, willing his legs to stay strong for just that bit longer... 

 

Kurami Setio

 

Luckily the cabinet marked ‘K’ was close to the floor. Aizawa let himself sink to the floor, breathless and weak, his hands fumbling through the folders. 

 

Kumon, Kunimitsu, Kurata

 

And finally. Kurami. 

 

Aizawa pulled it out, gasping as he did, coughing. Blood splattered from his mouth to the carpet, sinking into the fabric. 

 

Aizawa felt his eyes prick with tears as he pulled out the student profile. He blinked them away and skimmed the information, looking for the paragraph he needed. The confirmation of what he suspected to be true. 

 

Name - Setio Kurami

 

Birth - 09/24

 

Quirk - Replay. If Setio uses his quirk on an object, then a person it can be used to rewind a persons physical state from the last twenty-four hours, replaying it over the next seven days. 

 

Aizawa hated being right. 

 

Whatever had happened to him last week was what really happened last Sunday. 

 

He was the pro the villains had intended to kill.

 

And they’d used Kurami’s quirk to do it.

 

Ha.

 

Fuck.

 

He was going to become a doctor Aizawa remembered. His quirk meant he could rewind people’s dying bodies. Give them more time. Let their symptoms play out again. Help doctors work out what went wrong in the first place. 

 

But morally it was discouraged. It was seen as using people as ‘human guinea pigs’. 

 

The kid wanted to be a hero in the medical field but no doctor would take him on. Seventeen, with no purpose in life, no career path and no one to back him up, Setio had lashed out. 

 

He’d hurt another student. 

 

Date of graduation - N/A. Expelled. 

 

He’d hurt one of the students in Aizawa first classes. She was becoming a field doctor as well. 

 

Aizawa had expelled him immediately. 

 

A sharp pain made him cry out, alarming him as he expelled more blood, the hot liquid spilling over his lips. 

 

He pulled his jumper down instinctively gasping as his hand came away wet with blood. Again His chest was becoming unbearable with pain, white and hot, his heart beating erratically under his rib cage.

 

Jesus Christ. He was bleeding out. 

 

The picture from the information booklet came to mind. The murder scene. The blood. 

 

His. Blood. 

 

How long did he have left? 

 

They had his eyes. Oh God, they had his eyes. 

 

His hand grappled with his phone, clicking the screen on.

 

6:23pm.

 

He would have been on patrol from 6:30pm but hazarding a guess they would have caught him once it had gotten dark. 

 

So he had about four hours. 

 

If his body allowed him. 

 

His phone went off, vibrating in his hand, the name on the screen showing ‘Nemuri’. He pressed hang up quickly, damning the consequences, not really knowing if he could even string a sentence together. 

 

He needed to go to the hospital.

 

He needed to find Kurami.

 

Pushing himself up he shakily rose to his feet, his capture weapon tightening, cutting off the circulation to his neck. He could see the blood stains already on the floor of the cupboard. There was no point hiding anything. 

 

Leaving the filing cabinet wide open, Kurami’s folder strewn across the floor as if it could act as some sort of clue. Aizawa staggered out of UA.

 

—

 

He ended up getting a taxi. The driver had looked at him sceptically but didn’t say anything as Aizawa gave the directions to the hospital, wiping the blood from the corners of his lips. 

 

His phone was constantly buzzing in his pocket. He didn’t look. He didn’t dare. 

 

Instead, he mentally prepared himself to get up again once they arrived. Every single time his vision faded he pinched himself on the thigh. Pulling him back to reality. It was a different kind of pain a sharp pinch instead of the never-ending ache of his numbing chest. 

 

He was openly crying now, it seemed to help. Aizawa didn’t care what he looked like.

 

It was nearly seven when he arrived, hauling himself out of the car, sending the bill to UA to leave another clue in his wake. His legs nearly gave from under him as he stood but he forced himself forward, working on autopilot and using whatever amounts of adrenaline he had to hand. 

 

He could feel the stares but no one seemed to come forwards, no one asked him if he was alright. By this point, Aizawa had started to bite into hi lip, drawing blood because what did it matter if he lost anymore? In his head, he complied a list of reasons to stay alive. 

 

His parents would kill him if he died.

 

So would Hizashi.

 

And Nemuri 

 

It took a while for the hospital map to focus in Aizawa’s head. He traced the route, trying to rely on his short term memory just one more time. This time he did buckle, his knees hitting the wall as he pushed himself up with his hands on the wall. Forcing himself to stay upright. He wiped the blood from the wall with his sleeve, tears dripping to the floor. 

 

Cats. He had to stay alive for cats.

 

Class 1A. 

 

Being a hero. 

 

At least, he thought, his subconscious interrupting his pathetic excuse of a list, at least no one had really gotten injured that Sunday. It had just been him. He hadn’t failed to save anyone. Just himself. And he could live with that.

 

He took the lift to the third floor, holding back slightly until there was a lift with no people in, allowing himself some breathing room alone. Not that he did much differently. Just closed his eyes and allowed himself to sob.

 

But he hadn’t travelled yet. 

 

Or had kids of his own.

 

Fuck he hadn’t been on a date in years. 

 

The lift bell rang. 

 

A trail of blood followed him out and down the corridor. 

 

He really wanted to try fish and chips. Proper fish and chips from a seaside town. Somewhere in Europe. 

 

And go to the zoo. He had vouchers somewhere. Someone, someone who didn’t know him very well had given him vouchers…

 

Intensive care was quieter than Aizawa had imagined. There were a few nurses here and there but they seemed engrossed in their own work, at least so much so that Aizawa could try and avoid them as best as possible. He couldn’t be seen now. He wasn’t being discreet enough. 

 

He didn’t have long left. 

 

Where had he put the damn zoo vouchers..? Or did he give them away?

 

Aizawa had curled in on himself now as he walked, almost doubled over from the pain, feeling the blood seeping through his sleeves as he walked, his breathing short and painful. One lung collapsed. 

 

They could have expired. His 30th birthday was a while ago now...

 

And finally, finally, as if years had gone by since he left his room. He reached Kurami’s. 

 

His hearing, whereas before had sounded as if it was underwater, now was crystal clear as he pushed himself through the door, letting it shut behind him. The slow beeping of heart monitors and the whir of oxygen.

 

The kid looked just as bad as he did. 

 

Aizawa just about made it to his bedside before his legs gave way and he plummeted to the floor, his hand grazing the side of the bed as he did. He cried out in pain but it wasn’t loud enough to make any sort of difference. 

 

He knew what he had to do. 

 

The switch on the side of the wall seemed too easy. One flick and the power would go off.  If Satio died first, he would be released from his quirk. He would survive. 

 

Aizawa’s arm lifted, fingers reaching closer and closer. 

 

Before… 

 

His arm thudded down beside him. 

 

He wasn’t about to take a kids life. 

 

Blood stained the carpet from Aizawa’s chest up to his arm. It wasn’t rushing out, rather surging with every heartbeat, sticky and so dark in shade it was almost black. Or maybe that was Aizawa’s vision as it tunnelled, trying to tempt him under. 

 

Why did he even come?

 

His phone buzzed once more, tumbling out of his hand. 

 

Aizawa answered the call.

 

“Shota?!”

 

“Hizashi.” 

 

Aizawas voice was more of a gargle, liquid escaping his lips as he spat it out. Forcing himself to stay conscious. To stay sane. 

 

“Shota? Are you okay? Shota?!” 

 

Hizahsi’s voice was manic now, Aizawa had drifted out of consciousness for too long. Luckily Satio’s quirk was in effect even now. Slowing his death. Giving him time. 

 

“Me.” he managed to choke out finally. “Killed. Me.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Hizashi replied quickly. There was running in the background of the call. The sound of voices. “It’s alright. I’m coming.” 

 

“Satio. Quirk.” 

 

“Satio? Shota I don’t understand?”

 

Hizashi’s voice rung in Aizawa’s ears before being replaced by the roar of his own heartbeat. The white hot pain had ebbed now as black tainted the edges of his vision. He could barely hear his own heartbeat now, a wave of heat rushing over him as he lost feeling of his body. 

 

He really hoped they took his eyes after he’d died. 

 

“Shota, come on, I just need to know where you are-” 

 

Maybe he wouldn’t die at all. 

 

“Please… Shota come on.”

 

Maybe he’d be there for Satio’s funeral. 

 

“Please, Shota, talk to me, I’m right here, you’re going to be okay, okay? I promise you’ll be okay…”

 

Or maybe he’d meet him in hell. 

 

God knows that’s where he’d end up.

 

Probably.

 

Maybe

 

Or maybe no-

 

Black.

Notes:

Sorry for my shade on Detective Pikachu in the summery btw haha I know I'm in the minority of people who didn't like the movie but for me, the script was just poor. Compared to the animation quality and the world building... Oh and the musical score... Yikes. YIKES.

You can pick my brains in the comments.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! x

Chapter 38: The Aftermath

Summary:

Err so I didn't expect anyone to want a conclusion to that last chapter.

But here you go!

Notes:

So like the majority of comments were in expectation of a part two to that last chapter.
I wasn't going to post a part two, it was never my intention. I mean the first part was 11,000 words to make sure it was a one-shot.

But I'm a sucker for you guys. And I had a spare two hours.

So here's a conclusion.

*THIS HAS NOT BEEN GRAMMAR/SPELL CHECKED AND I'M TERRIBLY DYSLEXIC*

The first thing that registered in Aizawa's mind was just how nice it was to float.

 

He imagined this is what Uraraka's quirk must be like. The feeling of weightlessness, not having to rely on the Earth, on gravity to stay grounded. To be.

 

His mind was clear now. Sharp as a knife. The memories flooding back as if the whole of last week had simply been a blip. A switch flicking on and off.

 

He should really stop with the well-timed metaphors.

 

But he remembered the villains, remembered how they had ambushed him. Remembered their voices, the stone hitting his ear, the girl throwing him down by his shoulder. He remembered watching Kurami get slashed across the side. Their fatal mistake.

 

Okay. He was done with the metaphors for real now. A small smile crossing his lips. A pressure on his hand. Bringing him back round. 

 

And he was ready. 

 

He had zoo tickets to find. They were in his chest of drawers he remembered now-

 

"Shota? Shota can you hear me?"

 

Nemuri's voice. Worried but still with her usual hint of sass. God, he was in so much trouble. 

 

"Shota can you open your eyes for me?"

 

He wanted to reply but his mouth, once wet with blood, was now dry. His tongue roughly brushing across the roof of his mouth. He must have been trying hard enough however, as soon there was something cold touching his lips. Water on a cloth or an ice cube, something. 

 

Aizawa opened his eyes. 

 

Immediately, so much light rushed in that he closed them, all at once. His mind whirring, confused. 

 

Why was it so bright? Was something happening? Something attacking them? Was this not over yet? 

 

The thoughts kind of passed through him, hardly causing any sort of emotional response. Instead, Aizawa noticed the breath filling his lungs, both his lungs, focusing on that and that alone until he was ready to try again.

 

This time he blinked. The room coming into focus around him. The light he was blinking away was really just the setting sun, beaming down on the room like some sort of sign. Hardly dramatic at all. Nemuri head ended up blocking it out as she leaned forward, cheeks wet, eyes searching. 

 

The rest of the room was a small private hospital ward, Aizawa had been in them plenty of times for his students, his friends, suspects of various cases. Never for himself. Still, it didn't matter. 

 

He was alive.

 

Which meant... 

 

"Hey." 

 

Nemuri's voice was crystal in his ears, wavering at the edges, soft. Hizashi came into view on his other side, the man lying face down on his legs. Asleep.

 

"Hu-"

 

Aizawa attempted to speak, failed and water was handed to him. For a moment he simply stared at it before remembering that he, in fact, did have arms, reaching up to take it. Impressed with how painless it all was.

 

"I hate you," Nemuri spoke steadily, taking the water back from him. Placing it down on the side of the bed. "And you are never forgiven for this. Ever."

 

"Okay," Aizawa replied, his voice toneless and groggy. 

 

"Why didn't you call?" she continued, the silence giving her room to say what she needed. To fill the empty room with anger, dissipating it in Aizawa's direction. "As soon as you woke up. You just left us... Left us a- Trail of blood to follow to your corpse."

 

This time she started to break at the seems. Covering her mouth to conceal her sob, her other hand gripping Aizawa's so tightly. Driving some sort of common sense into him as she hurt more than he could ever have done over the last week.

 

"How dare you... You're so fucking selfish," she whispered, her breath hitching as tears rolled down her face, mingling with the mascara stains already littered down her cheeks. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you..."

 

The three word phrase became her mantra as she dissolved into his arm, gripping at his hospital gown, leaving him with the familiar scent of her hair.

 

It woke Hizashi up, the man shifting slightly where he was before bolting upwards, his hair which was once gelled upwards, now falling in pieces across his face. 

 

Aizawa preferred it when Hizashi had his hair down. He looked more like the Hizashi he knew. 

 

"Shota..? You're awake?"

 

Aizawa took to nodding. To save his voice. But a question bubbled in the back of his mind, working it's way to the tip of his tongue, forcing it's way out.

 

"Kurami..?"

 

"He died," Hizashi confirmed, looking across to Nemuri who had finally resurfaced, her glasses strewn to her side. Wiping the tears once more from her cheeks. "At first I think people assumed you'd done something but no... He died from his knife wound. 9:56 pm."

 

Aizawa took in the information, casting his mind back to the boy's room. His face hooked up to the machines, the switch on the wall...

 

"I couldn't bring myself to do it..." he said without thinking. The first thought that came to make a sentence in his head. 

 

"I would have," Nemuri stated, a heartbeat of a second later. "I would have."

 

"Do you feel okay?" Hizashi asked after a moment.

 

"I'm okay," Aizawa replied. "I'm sorry for phoning you like that."

 

"It's okay." Hizashi smiled, the sadness leaking in behind his grin. Repetition being the only thing to fill the silences. "It's okay!"

 

"It's not," Nemuri stated. 

 

"Just all that blood," Hizashi finally worked up the courage to continue. "That kinda thing can haunt you. Y'know? Especially when it's your best friend..."

 

Hizashi trailed off, Aizawa grasping an understanding of just how he'd traumatized the two closest people in his life. How utterly wrong things could have gone.

 

"Sho..." 

 

Hizashi voice dropped, the man taking the time to move his chair forwards, wiping the sleep from his eyes, returning his glasses to the tip of his nose. 

 

"Why didn't you tell us what was going on?"

 

The question was weighted but clear. 

 

"Because I thought I'd let someone die back then," Aizawa replied. The truth. Much easier to speak than the lies he'd been keeping up all week.

 

"Why?" Nemuri asked, almost instantly. Accusingly. 

 

"Becuase it was on my patrol that it happened and because of Kurami's quirk, I had no idea what had happened. All I knew was that I couldn't remember anything from my shift and someone had died. I didn't know that someone was intended to be me. I hoped-"

 

"Don't you dare say you hoped it was you." Hizashi interrupted, his brows furrowed, voice urgent. 

 

"Well I did," Aizawa replied. "I'm sorry for wishing it was me instead of someone else."

 

"You're not sorry." Nemuri spat, brushing the hair out from in front of her face, sighing deeply, restlessly before getting up from her seat. Pacing around the room. 

 

"No. I'm not," Aizawa admitted, his voice croaking from the effort. His throat began to close on it own as he pointed at it, trying to get the message across to Hizashi.

 

"You had to have a feeding tube put in." his best friend said instead. "Becuase your body reverted back, you basically hadn't eaten, or drunk, for like a week."

 

Not the information that Aizawa needed but useful information nevertheless.

 

"Water..." he finally hissed, Hizashi's eyes widening.

 

"Oh... OH! Right, on it."

 

The liquid was cool running down his throat. Not as icy as the look on Nemuri's face, however. 

 

No amount of flower tea was going to fix that. 

 

"Should I call in the doctors?" Hizashi asked the room. "Get them to give you the once over?"

 

"What would it take?" Nemuri replied instead, turning and facing Aizawa, her eyes pleading. "What would it take to make you think that your life is worth a damn over other peoples?"

 

Aizawa opened his mouth to reply. Then shut it. 

 

He'd never think like that. 

 

Nemuri was right. He was selfish. 

 

Selfish and alive.

 

And maybe, just maybe he had a few things to tick off the to-do list before he tried any more near-death experiences. 

Notes:

Hide and Seek will still come out this Friday

Thank you for all the support x

Chapter 39: Hide and Seek

Summary:

It's hide and seek!

Bakugou's never going to lose to Kirishima, Todoroki hasn't a damn clue, Iida's a lampshade and Aizawa's losing the will to live.

Notes:

This chapter is silly, silly, silly. But I enjoyed writing it. A lot. XD

Hope you're all having a good week x

“Okay, go on in.”

 

Aizawa opened the door to Heights Alliance, patting Eri on the head slightly, guiding her in. 

 

She looked back up at him, doe-eyed, her chubby hands clutching onto the picture she’d drawn during rehabilitation therapy. 

 

Aizawa gave her one of his lesser-threatening smiles back. No matter how hard his week could be, working overtime on the weekends was worth it for the kid. Just seeing her improvements, gaining her trust…

 

He coughed slightly, pulling off her coat, watching as her eyes wandered around the empty common area. 

 

“Why is it so quiet?” she whispered. Aizawa followed her gaze, his forehead creasing. 

 

“I... don’t know...” he replied. Through gritted teeth. 

 

Luckily, or rather unluckily, Kaminari just so happened to poke his head around the corner, spotting the two by the doorway and beaming wildly. 

 

“Hey Aizawa-Sensei! Hey Eri!” he grinned, running up to the two. Aizawa had to resist the urge to flinch backward. Usually, he’d give a wide berth to people running up to him, but Kaminari was too used to people flinching at his electric presence. Aizawa was always mindful to make sure he allowed the boy to come as near to him as he wanted. 

 

Kaminari was now known for clinging onto the majority of his classmates. 

 

“Have you seen anyone anywhere?” he asked. 

 

“No... why. What’s happened?” Aizawa replied quickly, trying to read his students expression. Kaminari’s face went from a wide grin to a disappointed pout. 

 

“I’m trying to find them. We’re playing hide and seek.”

 

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me...” Aizawa trailed off, sighing pointedly, making sure Kaminari saw his disappointed glare. “Tried acting your own age today? There’s plenty of washing up in the kitchen to be done.”

 

“Oh yeah! We’ll do it!” Kaminari replied, all smiles again. 

 

“Hello,” Eri spoke from the Aizawa’s side, waving up to Kaminari, a curious smile crossing her face. She pointed upwards, head cocked to one side. “Electric?”

 

“What have we said about sentences?” Aizawa reprimanded her softly. “Especially around people you don’t know?”

 

“I know. I’m going to,” she replied in a stage-whisper, turning to face Kaminari properly. “You have an electric quirk!”

 

“Yeah!” Kaminari said, bending down slightly to her height. “Like Pikachu!”

 

“Pika, pika.” 

 

“Pika, pika, pika.” 

 

“Stop saying ‘pika’, it’s not a real word.” Aizawa sighed. 

 

“What’s hide and seek?” Eri asked, moving away from Aizawa to place her drawing down on the table. 

 

“It’s a silly game that students play to get out of housework,” Aizawa replied pointedly. 

 

“Basically, everyone hides and then one person has to go around and try and find them all.” Kaminari grinned, sheepishly ignoring his homeroom teacher. “The last person to be found, is the win-“

 

ATCHOO!

 

Kaminari stopped, mid-sentence, running around the sofas and yanking the curtain back.

 

Jiro was on the other side, staring at him with a pout, one hand covering her nose.

 

“I had to sneeze...”

 

“FOUND YOU!” Kaminari cried, his smile widening. 

 

“Is Jiro the winner?” Eri asked coming over to the pair. 

 

Aizawa gave up, turning to pin Eri’s drawing to the fridge instead. He’d stop the game later… It was kind of nice. The silence.

 

“No. She’s the loser.” Kaminari replied, Jiro peeling herself away from the curtains and hopping back over the sofas. 

 

“Shut up and get me a tissue.” she snapped. 

 

“‘Shut up’ is a bad thing to say.” Eri pointed out as Kaminari walked over to the kitchen, reaching across for something for Jiro to wipe her nose with. 

 

“It’s okay to say it to idiots like Kaminari.”

 

“‘Idiot’ is also a rude word…” Eri began, before losing her train of thought, her eyes lighting up, jumping up and down on the spot. “Oh! Can I play hide and seek?” 

 

She looked across at Aizawa, before looking Kaminari, then Jiro. 

 

Jiro was mouthing profanities at Kaminari for handing her a dishcloth for her nose. 

 

“Of course you can!” Kaminari replied. “If Aizawa says it’s okay...”

 

Aizawa sighed, pulling out a decidedly ragged looking tissue from his pocket and handing it to Jiro. 

 

“As long as it’s over quickly.”

 

Eri cheers made it worthwhile, he figured. Besides, it was hide and seek, what could go wrong? 

 

Oh wait... it was 1A. Basically everything. 

 

—

 

The only person less clued up than Eri on the rules of hide and seek, was Todoroki. 

 

Yaoyorozu wasn’t a fan of playing anyway but could get on board with the idea of teaching her classmate… 

 

So, after the game had been announced, with the boy still mumbling that he didn’t understand the rules properly, she’d grabbed him. Hauling them both into the wardrobe. 

 

In hindsight. Not the greatest idea. 

 

“You have so many clothes,” Todoroki stated, his breath hot on Yaoyorozu‘s cheek as he turned to look at his surroundings. “Why?” 

 

“I guess I’ve just collected them..?” she replied, shifting around slightly. It was awkward and stuffy and Todoroki was far too close. Lost in thought, she slipped slightly on a pair of shoes littered on the wardrobe floor, her body lurching slightly. Todoroki moving to grab her shoulders, righting her straight and pulling her close. Like, close close.

 

“Sorry,” he stated, letting go as Yaoyorozu’s cheeks started to go red. 

 

“No, my fault I tripped over my- oh you probably wouldn’t know the brand- shoes, I should probably wear them, I just-”

 

“Try me.”

 

“What..?”

 

She looked up from her rambling to see Todoroki’s gaze fixed on her own.

 

“The shoe brand. I’ll know it,” he replied, with a shrug. Shoulder brushing shoulder. As if he hadn’t clocked the awkward closeness between the two.

 

“Oh… Asics.”

 

“Most popular shoe brand in Japan you mean? Yeah, my dad...” Todoroki cleared his throat slightly, lifting his arm up to cover his mouth, brushing Yaoyorozu’s in the process. The girl found herself hugging her arms a bit closer, concealing the goosebumps. “…he endorsed them for a bit. We got a discount or whatever. Didn’t take it.”

 

“Why not?!” Yaoyorozu cut him off before she could stop herself, her voice coming out as a sort of high pitched squeak. The light coming through the slit in the wardrobe door just about making out Todoroki’s raised eyebrow. 

 

“I don’t really care about branded stuff or having a lot of money. Also my dad kind of forces it on us sometimes, it feels a bit fake.” 

 

Silence filled the wardrobe. 

 

Yaoyorozu wondered if she should try and take a step back but Todoroki wasn’t so… 

 

“Not that there’s anything wrong with having lots of branded stuff.” Todoroki eventually added. “I guess.” 

 

“I can’t tell whether you’re insulting me or not,” Yaoyorozu replied sheepishly. 

 

“I’m not,” Todoroki spoke quickly. “Or at least I’m not trying to.” 

 

Yaoyorozu didn’t have an answer to that, so instead the two continued in silence before-

 

“If you cleared the shoes, we could probably sit down.”

 

The two looked at their feet, Yaoyorozu shifting slightly to feel out how much floor space they had. 

 

“What if we get caught?” she asked softly. 

 

“I don’t think anyone’s coming yet.” Todoroki pointed out, poking his head out of the wardrobe door. “Nope, no one yet.”

 

Yaoyorozu joined him, pressing her temple against his and listening out for her classmates. He was right. Nothing. 

 

“Okay, we’ll have to be quick though.” she agreed, pushing the door open and letting the two hop out. “Just put the shoes and other stuff on the bed.”

 

“Other stuff..? Oh. Bags.” 

 

“You say that with such disdain,” Yaoyorozu commented, padding round to the other side of her bed. “Bags are useful.”

 

“Even twenty of them? Where are you going?” Todoroki asked, looking up from where he was hauling the majority of Yaoyorozu’s handbag collection onto the bedcovers. 

 

“Tea?” she replied, holding up a bottle of iced tea in one hand. 

 

“You have a mini fridge...” 

 

“Tea?”

 

“Yes please.” 

 

“Okay and then we just need a few more things...” 

 

Yaoyorozu continued grabbing stuff from around the room, catching glances at Todoroki piling shoes on top of the collection of bags. The two moved silently around one another, keeping one ear out for the door. 

 

“Done!” Yaoyorozu smiled as Todoroki turned from where he was to inspect her handiwork. 

 

She’d strewn a blanket across the wardrobe floor, two pillows backed up either end and fairy lights hung among the clothing rails. 

 

Todoroki stepped inside awkwardly, sitting down and shuffling so that his back was leaned up against the side. Yaoyorozu clambered in next to him, the two pulling the doors shut behind them, just an amber glow illuminating their surroundings. 

 

“This is better.” she smiled, settling herself and looking across at Todoroki. 

 

Their knees were still just about touching.

 

“Is this how hide and seek is usually played?” he asked. 

 

“Not really. But you just have to hide so I guess we are still playing properly.” 

 

“They might notice the shoes and bags.” Todoroki pointed out, unscrewing the cap off of the iced tea. 

 

“Maybe, but it’s Kaminari. He might just assume I’m clearing them out?” 

 

“I hope so,” Todoroki replied, taking a dramatic swig of the tea and grinning. “I want to win.” 

 

—

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“I got here first Kacchan!” 

 

Midoryia lifted his head up from where it was poking out from underneath the storage cupboard, Bakugou glaring down at him. 

 

“Besides,” Midoryia continued, scooching up slightly and patting the space beside him. “You can fit in as well.”

 

“I’d rather drink my own piss.” Bakugou retorted, looking around the hallway. “Where’s your fuck buddies anyway?” 

 

“I could ask you the same question,” Midoryia replied without missing a beat. 

 

“Kirishima is using his hardening to pretend to be part of the fireplace.” Bakugou snapped back, seemingly without thinking. “Seriously though. Where’s Uraraka?”

 

“Hey! Bakugou! Up here!” 

 

Bakugou jumped back in shock before looking directly above him. Where Uraraka was hovering, body plastered on the ceiling. 

 

“What the fuck round face?!” Bakugou snapped. “You’re going to make yourself sick.”

 

“Ingenious, right?” Uraraka grinned. “And don’t worry, I won’t make myself sick. I’m only going to float when I know someone’s coming.” 

 

And with that, she released her quirk, nearly falling on top of Bakugou, instead, breaking her fall with a forward roll. 

 

Bakugou, in response, dived in the cupboard next to Midoryia. 

 

“Jesus! Have you got a fucking death wish or something?” he snapped at the girl, Uraraka brushing herself off with a small smile. 

 

“It’s useful to get the practice in. For stealth!” 

 

“It’s fucking sneaky alright.” Bakugou retorted. “I’m not staying in here by the way. I’m finding somewhere else to hide.” 

 

“Why are you even playing?” Uraraka asked, unfazed. “I thought this sort of thing was ‘below you’.”

 

“I got dared,” Bakugou replied. “Shitty red hair said I couldn’t stay hidden for as long as him. But he’s pretending to be a wall so I figured I’ve got a chance.” 

 

“What did you dare?” Midoryia asked, daring himself to ask a question to the explosive boy. 

 

“Washing up done for a week.” 

 

“Nice!” Uraraka cried her fist pumping into the air. “We’ll keep you hidden, won’t we Deku?” 

 

“I told you. I’m not staying her-“

 

“Quick! Someone’s coming!” Uraraka hissed excitedly, pushing the cupboard door shut, trapping the two boys in place. 

 

“LET ME-“

 

“Shhhh!” Midoryia whispered, clamping his hand over what he thought to be Bakugou’s mouth. “No washing up. Remember?”

 

Bakugou removed Midoryia’s hand from his forehead, growling under his breath. 

 

Voices came and went. Kaminari’s voice for sure but also a girls voice and… a child. 

 

The two waited for a moment, bated breath, knees touching. 

 

One second, five seconds, ten secon-

 

“I think Eri’s with them! Ah! I can’t wait to see her again! I wonder if she knows how to play hide and seek. Actually, I wish she could have hidden because she’s so small that-“

 

“Fucking shut up Deku or I’ll slit your throat. Don’t you know the rules of hide and seek?” Bakugou hissed, whacking what he thought to be Midoryia’s head. 

 

He hit the wall of the cupboard instead, hissing in pain. 

 

“Wow, you’re taking it seriously…” Midoryia replied, his voice nearly a whisper. 

 

“Do you think they’re gone?” Bakugou hissed. “I’m getting a cramp.”

 

“I could move up a bit…”

 

“Not that way…”

 

“Oh, sorry Kacchan.”

 

“Not that fucking way either!”

 

“How many other ways are there?!”

 

“More than two! Fucking move you fuckwit-“

 

There was a shuffling as the two boys continually bumped into one another, before Bakugou eventually found the door, pushing on it. Hard. 

 

“Is there a knob?”

 

“A what?” Midoryia asked, giggling. 

 

“You childish piece of shit. The doorknob. Is there one?” Bakugou retorted. 

 

“Oh… Yeah… there must be…” 

 

Midoryia trailed off, his voice echoing in the cupboard, getting lost in the emptiness of the space. Bakugou slid his hands across the wall, desperately trying, feeling for something, some way out. 

 

“Must be?! Must be?!” Bakugou snapped, using his entire arm to feel his way down the wall. “What do you mean must be?!” 

 

“I don’t know! We could always ask Uraraka to let us out!” Midoryia snapped back, leaning forward. “Let me have a go…”

 

“Get off me,” Bakugou snapped. 

 

“This is where the doorknob should be…” Midoryia whispered, feeling along the door. “But it’s not there...

 

“You’re kidding me…” Bakugou hissed. “You’re fucking kidding me…”

 

—

 

Meanwhile, Kaminari and Jiro had been clever enough to find Sato, Koda, and Aoyama. As well as a gerbil, much to Eri’s delight. 

 

“Oh my God, get it off me, getitoffme, get it OFF!” Jiro screeched as their newfound animal friend made its way up her neck. 

 

“Sorry!” Koda signed, grabbing it off of her and placing it back in the front pocket of his jumper. 

 

“Four found! Sixteen more to go!” Kaminari cried, ignoring the commotion going on beside him. 

 

“Fifteen.” Sato corrected. “You forgot to count yourself.”

 

“Oh yeah! Even better! Fifteen to go!” 

 

“Fifteen! Fifteen!” Eri chimed as the group turned the corner into the next room. “FOUND YOU!” 

 

Tokoyami was sat, dead center in the room. On his phone. 

 

“Found you!” Eri repeated. “Found you, found you, found you!” 

 

“Oh yes. So you have.” Tokoyami replied. Deadpan. “Oh no. It appears I have lost. I’ll be in my room.” 

 

And from there he stood up, parked his chair to the side of him and left the room. 

 

“I err... guess he didn’t want to play huh?” Kaminari broke the silence, Sato and Aoyama giggling behind him. 

 

“Jeez Kirishima, what kind of hiding place is that?!” Jiro wheezed, looking past the group towards the fireplace. 

 

Eri ran up to the hardened form of Kirishima, head as close to his own as her tiptoes could reach, waiting for the boy to react. 

 

Kirishima let go of his quirk and leaned down with a grin, pulling himself away from the wall.

 

“Hey Eri! Good find!!” he smiled, his knees cracking as he bent down. “Have you found Bakugou yet?”

 

“Not yet!” Eri chimed back skipping back to the group. 

 

“Damn it!” Kirishima cried.

 

“That’s a bad word.” Eri chimed.

 

“It is, but I now have to do Bakugou’s washing up for a month,” Kirishima replied, head hung. 

 

“What were you even hiding as?” Jiro asked pointedly. 

 

“And why Bakugou’s washing up?” 

 

“Because you got found?” Aoyama asked dramatically, his hair flicking to one side. “It’s okay, so did I, alas, I sparkle too much…”

 

“You had a bad hiding place-“ Eri began.

 

“Being fabulous is a curse I tell you… A curse…”

 

“Yeah, Bakugou’s washing up because I got found,” Kirishima replied. “And my hiding place was sick and by far the most thought out. I covered myself in soot and hardened my quirk, then stood at the fireplace! See! No one could say I didn’t put any effort in.”

 

The group stopped for a moment, blank faces staring back at him, Eri broke the silence with a short giggle, “It would’ve been good if your hair didn’t look like a fiery poker!”

 

This returned some soft chuckles as they continued looking.

 

“So, where to after this room, have you checked many of the bedrooms?” Sato asked. 

 

“No, only Koda’s,” Kaminari replied 

 

“Rooms, rooms! I want to see all your rooms!” Eri chanted, before disappearing under the table

 

“I guess we could try Shoji’s room next? He’s bound to have hidden somewhere in there.” Jiro piped up

 

“You’re kidding me right?” Kaminari scoffed. “His room is like empty. Minimalist empty.”

 

“I know, you dimwit. I was joking.”

 

“We can still look there though, can’t we?” Kirishima offered. “For Eri!”

 

A faint voice from beneath the table made him stop. 

 

“Eri?”

 

“Help!! It tickles, it tickles so much!”

 

Kaminari dove under the table, Jiro close behind. If something happened to Eri, they could pretty much kiss their continued existence behind.

 

Luckily, Asui was under the table, tickling the girl mercilessly.

 

“FOUND YOU!”  Kaminari shouted, the two rolling out from under the table. Asui had stuck herself to the top of the table, an ingenious hiding place really, only Eri would’ve been able to fit alongside her.

 

“Damn, I really thought I’d win.” She replied matter of factly

 

‘Bad word!’ Eri protested once more.

 

“Anyone else in here?” Sato asked to the room. 

 

“Toru’s been following us for a while,” Jiro replied, a gasp coming from behind her.

 

“How did you know?!”

 

“You tripped up over the door stop.” Jiro grinned in reply. 

 

“Are you naked..?” Koda signed in Hagakure’s direction. 

 

The room, collectively, went red. 

 

Asui, despite the girl's quirk, covered Eri’s eyes.

 

— 

 

“Sero? Can you feel your legs?”

 

“Shut up Ashido! You have to be silent!”

 

“Guys..?”

 

Silence fell over the laundry room, the only sounds being the slight halted breathing from the three students hidden there.

 

“Guys..? Guys!”

 

“Ojiro! What!”

 

Sero poked his head out of one of the washing machines, hissing at his classmate, hidden behind the door. 

 

“Can you see my tail?” 

 

Sero narrowed his eyes slightly, the tip of his fingers coming to rest on the bottom of his chin. 

 

“A little bit? Just the tip.”

 

“Ah, shoot.”

 

Sero ducked his head back into the washing machine. 

 

Silence fell over the room once more. 

 

“Hey, if one of us is found-“

 

Sero poked his head back out, looking across to Ashido, tucked under a pile of bedsheets. 

 

“Ashido! Quit whispering!”

 

“You’re the one speaking now!”

 

“You started it! You’re going to get us all found!”

 

“I am not!”

 

“What did you want to say?” Ojiro asked the girl, trying to break up the argument between the two. 

 

“I was going to say-“

 

“I’m not here.” Sero interrupted, poking his head back into the washing machine and closing the door behind him. 

 

“Say what?” Ojiro asked. 

 

“Oh… I forgot…” Ashido replied giggling slightly. 

 

There was a bump from inside the washing machine that could have been mistaken for Sero slamming his head against the door. 

 

Silence fell over the room once more, the tumble dryers on the other side of the room whirring slightly in the background. 

 

“Oh wait I remembered!” Ashido hissed, her head reappearing from the bed covers. “If one of us gets found then we have to keep the others hiding place secret. Right?”

 

“Of course.” Ojiro smiled. “Can you see my tail by the way?”

 

“Yeah, a bit,” she replied, Ojiro shuffling from where he was stood. “Sero?” Ashido continued, facing towards the washing machine. “You agree?”

 

From inside, Sero groaned inwardly. He hoped that maybe if he didn’t say anything she would stop asking. Or maybe he could just tape her mouth or something. No, that was probably against some sort of rule. 

 

His plan was kind of working however. There was silence from the other side of the door. 

 

Perfect. This way he would never be-

 

“OH JESUS CHRIST-!” 

 

“AHGHGHHHH!” 

 

Sero stopped screaming long enough to stop himself from flying tape in his teachers face. 

 

Aizawa stared back at him, nostrils blazing and hair rising.

 

“GET OUT!” 

 

“Aizawa-Sensei?!”

 

“OUT! Out of the washing machine- Jesus, how did you even fit?!”

 

Sero tumbled out of the washing machine, pulling his, now dead leg from under him. 

 

“This game is over.” his teacher snapped. “Ojiro get out from behind the doorway, I can see your tail-“

 

“Really? Oh man-“

 

Ojiro stopped, mid-sentence when he saw his teachers expression. “I mean sorry, Aizawa-Sensei.”

 

“And Ashido, if you do not get out of my laundry this second, I’m going to put you in the machine for real.”

 

“Oh!” Ashido, cried, poking her head out once more. “These are yours..?” 

 

“Get. Out.”

 

She did. With remarkable speed. 

 

“Find the other. Immediately. We’re having a house meeting.” Aizawa spat, glaring at his three students. 

 

They stood in front of him, eyes shifting towards one another. 

 

“Did I not make myself clear?” he asked lowly. “House. Meeting. Now.”

 

—

 

“Shoji’s room! Shoji’s room!”

 

The six, headed by Kaminari and Jiro began to edge their way towards Shoji’s room, keeping their eyes peeled in the way.

 

“Okay, who’s going in first?” Kaminari asked.

 

“ME!” Eri squealed before barrelling into the door and swinging it wide open.

 

The others quickly followed her in, to scout the room.

 

“Wow… It really is bare,” she commented quietly as the group filled the room, nodding.

 

“Wait! The bathroom!” Kirishima shouted as he made a dash for the shower room.

 

“Is that a good idea?” Koda signed sheepishly as he stood in the doorway of the room

 

“I’m sure it’s fine.” he shrugged, swishing the curtain back and revealing a hulking figure stood on the other side. Crouched down slightly.

 

“Ah. You found me. Okay.” Shoji said. 

 

“C’mon man, how is that hiding?” Kaminari jibed.

 

‘I am six foot one.” Shoji replied, ducking his head down slightly. “Plus I don’t like hiding much, it reminds me too much of when I was a child, hiding from-” 

 

‘Hey, I think I know where Mineta will be!” Kirishima interrupted, dashing from the room as he did

 

Shoji began moving to follow as Jirou and the rest stood for a moment, quizzical looks on their faces before shrugging and following along.

 

‘Who’s Mineta?’ Eri asked, furrowing her brow in thought.

 

“Small, balls on his head? Purple?”

 

“Sticky..?” Eri confirmed. 

 

Kaminari smirked slightly, Aoyama being less obvious and laughing. Loudly. 

 

“Did I say something wrong?” Eri asked quietly. 

 

“No.” Jiro grinned. “Not at all.”

 

—

 

“I’m getting Uraraka to let us out,” Midoryia stated. 

 

The two boys had been left in the cupboard for some time now. Firstly they’d tried to just… stay there. In fact, Midoryia was surprised that Kacchan hadn’t blown his face off yet. 

 

Maybe he couldn’t feel his arms, Midoryia certainly couldn’t feel his own legs.

 

“You can’t.” Bakugou hissed. 

 

“Why not?” Midoryia replied pointedly, his voice a little louder than apparently, Bakugou would have liked. He went to clamp the smaller boys mouth, instead, whacking Midoryia straight in the nose. “OW!”

 

“Shut. Up.” 

 

“No, seriously, ow. Kacchan- ow!” Midoryia protested, his hand flying up to his face and pulling it away, wet. 

 

“I can’t go out there yet. Not until I know for a fact that Kirishima has been found.” Bakugou hissed. 

 

“Ow… You’re taking this way too seriously. Midoryia replied sniffing slightly and wincing. “Seriously, ow.”

 

“Stop saying ‘ow’,” Bakugou muttered. “You sound like a wettie.”

 

“I think you broke my nose…” 

 

“I sure hope I did.” Bakugou retorted. “With that punch, it would have been a failure not to.”

 

—

 

“Okay and so then you do the sign for ‘I’, then try and finger-spell your name,” Todoroki said softly. Yaoyorozu nodded and began tapping the letters out on her hands. 

 

The two were learning sign language, still tucked in Yaoyorozu’s wardrobe. They’d finished off the tea, shuffling closer together, knees touching as Todoroki shifted Yaoyorozu’s fingers slightly. 

 

“Second finger, not third.”

 

“Oh, sorry,” she whispered. 

 

“No, it’s okay, your names a really long one to spell,” Todoroki replied. 

 

“So’s yours.” Yaoyorozu insisted slightly.

 

“True, we could probably just learn the kanji meanings in sign language… My name’s really common though.”

 

“What, ‘Todoroki’?” Yaoyorozu asked.

 

“Yeah,” the boy replied, turning Yaoyorozu’s hand over in his. 

 

“Do Shoto then,” she offered. “That would be the kanji for…”

 

“Burning and freezing,” Todoroki replied. “People might think I was talking about my face.”

 

“Oh… Right. I guess so.” Yaoyorozu replied. “Let me try spelling my name again, I nearly got it that time. Also my name wouldn’t work in kanji form either.”

 

“It means one hundred right?” Todoroki asked. “Or peach? The two look so similar.”

 

“One hundred,” she corrected him. “And my surname is the kanji for eight million…”

 

“That’s a lot of numbers,” Todoroki commented. 

 

“Yeah… Did I get it right then?”

 

“Perfect.” Todoroki smiled, commenting on her sign language. 

 

“How come you can sign?” she asked as she repeated the alphabet on her hand. 

 

“I always did it when I was hiding from my dad,” Todoroki replied with a shrug. “There was no one to sign with, but I thought that maybe one day there might be and then I would be able to…”

 

“To..?” Yaoyorozu prompted. 

 

“Get them to help me escape?” Todoroki admitted. “But it was never that bad. I was just being a kid.”

 

Yaoyorozu looked up at her friend but Todoroki averted eye contact. 

 

“I can sign with you now. And so can Koda.”

 

“True.” Todoroki smiled. “That’s pretty-”

 

Todoroki didn’t get to finish his sentence however as Yaoyorozu clamped a hand over his mouth, the door to her room opening. Todoroki nodded slightly and she moved the hand away, clicking the fairy lights off, the two listening, waiting. 

 

“Is she having a clear out?” A voice asked from the other side of the door. 

 

Kaminari. 

 

Yaoyorozu covered her own mouth to stop herself from giggling, feeling Todoroki’s shoulders shake next to her. 

 

“The shoes! Louis Vuitton, Louboutin! Oh, tres magnifique!”

 

“Wow her bed is so big and fancy!”

 

“Is that Eri?” Yaoyorozu mouthed. Todoroki didn’t catch her however, so she took the boys hands. He flinched slightly from her touch before working out what she was doing as she moved his fingers across his palm.

 

E… R… I…

 

Todoroki smiled up at her, nodding.

 

“MINETA?!”

 

“Found another one!” Eri seemingly cried. 

 

“Dude, what are you doing in here?” another voice asked, Kirishima sounding.

 

“You said we could hide anywhere!” Mineta protested.

 

The group were standing in Yaoyorozu’s room, among the shoes and bags littered around them. Mineta was hiding under them.

 

Or rather, ‘hiding’.

 

“Yeah, but dude, creepy?” Kirishima asked. 

 

“Yeah. Really creepy.” Jiro agreed, crossing her arms. 

 

“You should just be glad Yaoyorozu isn’t here to see you.” Shoji sighed as Sero ran into the room, Ashido and Ojiro close behind. 

 

“House meeting! Now!” Sero called. 

 

“Wait, what? But we haven’t found everyone yet!” Kaminari pouted. 

 

“I don’t know, Aizawa just got mad.” Ashido shrugged from behind them. “I don’t know why…” 

 

“Do we have to go now, now?” Eri whined, Ashido bending down to greet her. 

 

“Hey cutie!” 

 

“My name’s Eri…”

 

“Yeah, we have to go now,” Ojiro replied to the room. “Aizawa-Sensei is like mad, mad.”

 

“We found Ochako as well!” Sero remembered. “She was-

 

“On the ceiling.” Ashido interrupted.

 

“On the ceiling, yeah.” Sero finished.

 

“Fuck! That’s such a good idea!” Kirishima cried, before plastering his hands over his mouth.

 

The group looked down at Eri slowly. The girl had her head cocked to one side, questionably. 

 

“What does fuck mean?” she asked.

 

“Okay! We’ll let Aizawa explain that one!” Sero called. “House meeting! House meeting!” 

 

—

 

The class assembled in the common area like a herd of, well sheepish looking teenagers. Aizawa glared them all down. It would have looked scarier if he wasn’t making a glass of strawberry milk for Eri. 

 

“Where were you guys?” Mineta asked Todoroki and Yaoyorozu as they appeared. 

 

“In my wardrobe,” Yaoyorozu replied, eyebrow raised. 

 

“Oh…” Mineta trailed off. 

 

Aizawa silenced them all with a glare, looking around the room with some venom. 

 

“This place. Is a mess,” he stated, looking around at his class, eyes narrowed. “And you lot decided to play hide and seek. Is everybody here?”

 

The class looked around on another, Asui eventually placing her hand in the air. 

 

“We’re missing Bakugou, Iida, and Midoryia.” She confirmed. 

 

“Iida’s beside you all.” Aizawa sighed, pointing to the left of the class. 

 

They turned, looking straight past the unusual lamp. 

 

“Where..?” Kaminari asked, eyes searching the room. 

 

Aizawa sighed. 

 

“Iida, take off the lampshade. The games over.”

 

Iida did as he was told, taking off the lampshade head and placing it under his arm. 

 

“I thought you would have found me quicker,” he mused with a smile.

 

“Hiding in plain sight, very clever,” Aizawa noted. “What’s not clever, is hiding in washing machines, wardrobes, other peoples rooms, and the ceiling.”

 

He made sure to glare at every student, mentally counted them up himself. 

 

Asui was right, no wonder duo. 

 

“Where are Bakugou and Midoryia?” he snapped.

 

The room fell silent.

 

“Anyone have any idea?” Aizawa growled. Uraraka came forward slightly, a concerned look on her face. 

 

“Well the last time I saw them, they were in the cupboard under the stairs,” she started, twisting her hair around her finger. “But Bakugou only went in there because there was someone coming and he had nowhere else to hide. He said he was going to find another hiding place once everyone had gone.”

 

“I highly doubt that they would stay in such close vicinity to one another.” Iida agreed. 

 

“Wait a minute…” Kirishima asked. “The cupboard under the stairs?”

 

“The one with the faulty door..?” Sero added. 

 

“The doesn’t open properly.” Aizawa finished, his eyes widening, already making his way out of the room

 

“Ohhhhh no!” Ashido cried, bursting into laughter as the class followed in their teacher’s wake. “They’re going to have killed each other.”

 

“Yeah! Exactly!” Kirishima replied, his voice lacking the same amount of humor. “They going to have killed each other.”

 

“I have my bets on Midoryia killing Bakugou,” Sero called from the back of the group as the class made their way doing the stairs.

 

“Really?! No. Bakugou would totally kill Midoryia first.” Jiro replied.

 

“Wouldn’t we hear screaming?” Todoroki asked, a little too seriously. 

 

“Not if Bakugou strangled him.” Jiro grinned.

 

“Stop it!” Iida cried. “You’re scaring Uraraka! And Eri!”

 

“I’m not scared!”

 

They approached the cupboard with some trepidation, Aizawa leading the way, handing Eri over to Shoji as he did. The girl was very happy to be hoisted on top of the students back instead of holding hands with her dorm parent. 

 

“It’s still closed?” Hagakure asked quietly as they crowded outside. “I would have thought they would have blasted it open by now…”

 

“Could you imagine Aizawa’s face if they did?” Kaminari laughed. “They would both be dead then.”

 

“Be quiet,” Aizawa said, bending down and turning the handle slowly. There was a pause before he flung the door open. 

 

The whole group leaned in to see the sight. 

 

Midoryia had his legs hooked over Bakugou’s, obviously in an attempt to get out. But Bakugou’s hand was covering his mouth, pulling him back into his chest, arm wrapped around his torso…

 

Oh, and the pair were covered in blood. 

 

Bakugou fought his way out of the cupboard, pushing Midoryia back down in the process. He managed to make it one step out before his dead legs gave way, falling straight into Todoroki who tried to side-step out of the way.

 

“What happened?!” Aizawa cried, crouching down to inspect Midoryia, momentarily forgetting to be angry. The teen had plastered a hand over his nose, pointing up to Bakugou.

 

“Kacchan broke my nose! It was an accident but I was just trying to get out and-”

 

“Where’s Kirishima?!” Bakugou interrupted, looking over Todoroki’s shoulder for his best friend. 

 

“Here!” The red-head called back cheerily. 

 

“YES! I WON!”

 

Aizawa remembered to be angry. 

 

He grabbed Midroryia by the sleeve and dragged him upwards, flicking his capture weapon to the side to pull Bakugou away from the rest of the class. 

 

“You two better have a very good explanation.” he spat, Bakugou’s mouth snapping shut as Midoryia cowered. “How DARE you be so irresponsible, childish, reckless, not to mention-” 

 

Aizawa took a moment to breathe, reminding himself that Eri was in the room. “No, do you know what? I don’t have any words for you two-”

 

“I do!” Eri called proudly. “Fuck.”

 

This time it was the entirety of 1A that cowered. Aizawa turned to them, devil-possessed.

 

“Who. Taught her. That word?”

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Oh, I have a tumblr now! I have no idea how to use it but come and chat and ask me questions and stuff!

https://lavenderroadart.tumblr.com

Chapter 40: The Stars and the Waiting Room

Summary:

Recovering from USJ was always going to be harder than Aizawa imagined.

Realising that his brother was never going to be able to be a hero again was more than Iida thought he could take.

The two end up in the same waiting room at 3am in the morning. Neither can fix the other but it's nice sometimes.

Nice not to be alone.

Notes:

So this chapter isn't a prompt!! I just needed to go off on my own for a week so I hope you like this!

Speaking of which, there's a poll for the last three voted prompts at the end of this chapter and prompts are now OPEN! Although it'll be a three-week wait for me to get round to them ovbs.

Thank you for all your support, it really feels like a little family on here now and that's so nice x

 

BTW - THIS CHAPTER IS SET JUST AFTER USJ :)

Tokyo at night and the light turns from a paling but aureate amber to a dazzling blue. Blinding and alive. Waking a slumbered city up. 

 

Aizawa remembered hearing about England and the way that streetlights are turned off in the summer. Apparently, in more rural areas, people walked the streets with flashlights until the moonlight coated the pavements. 

 

He wondered if you could possibly see the stars. 

 

Not that you couldn’t in Tokyo, but with the amount of artificial light... The street signs and restaurants and walkways and shops just to name a few.

 

Besides. Nobody ever looked up. Not any more. Not for the stars. 

 

He wished he had before USJ. And after USJ, he did. 

 

Physically he was a mess. Multiple facial and arm fractures, broken radius and ulna bones, and his orbital floor had been crushed. 

 

Some doctor had told him all that, with an air of ‘I've-read-about-you-on-the-press-report’. 

 

Because Aizawa needed another reminder that he’d failed his new students. 

 

He didn’t want to know what it meant for his quirk. He wasn’t allowed to use it. 

 

Soon they said. Soon. 

 

Recovery Girl had done what she could. And she’d focused on recovering his facial breaks rather than the rest of his body. He was too exhausted for much more than that anyway. 

 

He wasn’t getting much sleep. 

 

A pitiful amount of time in hospital and Aizawa returned home. He didn’t want to be cooped up in a hospital bed. He didn’t want to be in his cramped flat either, but at least in his cramped flat, he could do what he liked. 

 

Which was nothing. 

 

Hizashi invited himself round (far too often). It didn’t take long for his best friend to realise just how depressed Aizawa was becoming, and, credit to him, did his best to cheer him up. 

 

They even stared at stars together once. Aizawa could tell that Hizashi was finding the whole thing skull-numbingly boring, but it showed how far the man was willing to go to make sure Aizawa had the chance to open up. 

 

And so he did. As much as he could before his eyes started to sting and his heart began to tighten and he wondered what the point of talking was anyway. 

 

Hizashi made him promise to host the sports festival with him. Which meant Aizawa was probably meant to go back to work. 

 

At first, Nezu was worried about him returning to teaching so early. But that passed quickly. Normal life kicked back in and the stars seemed to move further and further away from the earth. 

 

After the sports festival had ended, Aizawa made a bee-line for General Studies. Eyes peeled for purple hair, body trying to avoid the touch of others. His arms were still painful to move. 

 

The words ‘successor’ felt weird on the top of his tongue. Did he have anything to really pass on, anything besides basic combat to teach? The whole concept felt far too self-righteous, far too egocentric.

 

But not training Shinsou, now that was egocentric. He was the kids only chance of a recommendation, that was just fact. And the world needed more heroes. Heroes with a quirk that was so villainous... blurring the line between the two, now that, that could be just what society-

 

“Erasurehead.” 

 

Whoever it was, knew it was too soon to touch him without warning. 

 

Aizawa twisted around to face Kan, the class 1B teacher looking far too solemn. 

 

“Vlad. Everything okay?” Aizawa asked as his colleague strode closer. His colleague's next sentence, causing the blood to drain from his empty heart.

 

“Your student. Iida. I’ve been told to inform you that he’s had to go home early.” Kan replied, voice low. “His brother, Ingenium. He was Stain’s latest victim.”

 

—

 

Follow up appointments were far more tedious than actually going to the hospital itself. That was Aizawa’s take on the whole thing anyway. 

 

At least when you were critically injured it was straight in, straight on the priority list, whether you paid the tax or not. 

 

Follow up appointments were just a waste of time. Hours of backlogged waiting, for a few minutes of ‘so how have you been’ and ‘we’ve looked at your blood tests and…’

 

Aizawa would happily skip the whole thing if he could. 

 

He couldn’t. Not if he wanted a permission slip to get back to his hero work.

 

Or his casts off. 

 

At least he could plan Shinsou’s training regime whilst he waited for his x-rays to come back. The boy had said yes to the opportunity of being taken on as a potential transfer with some enthusiasm. 

 

The two would train together three days a week after classes 7-8:30pm and the weekends 4-6pm. 

 

Aizawa was happy to have the new focus. A distraction. Hizashi’s attempt at getting him to co-host was done in a similar vein, but this. This was much more tangible. Up his street. 

 

“Shota Aizawa?” 

 

He looked up from his notes to see a nurse, scanning her eyes around the waiting room. He stood, awkwardly shoving his pen in his mouth and sheets under his casts, following her out. 

 

“How are you today?” she asked brightly, her expression as fake as Aizawa would expect it to be at 8pm on a Wednesday evening. 

 

“Mphfine.”

 

He was glad that he had a pen in his mouth at the least.

 

He yawned as he sat, wondering whether he left the fan on at his apartment, praying that he had.

 

The pen lazily slipped out of his mouth and onto his lap. He placed the sheets down just under his chair at the same time. 

 

He was looking forward to actually being able to put them in his bag when he had full use of his arms again. 

 

He also had an itch. Halfway up his right forearm. It was pissing him off. 

 

“Shota! Thank you for coming back to see me.” 

 

A doctor, man in his mid-forties, glasses pressed so far up his nose they were creating indents beside his eyes. 

 

He clearly knew about Aizawa’s pitiful track record when it came to hospital appointments. 

 

Sitting down beside him, the man pressed his hand between his legs, pulling the chair closer to Aizawa. Flicking through paperwork and pushing his glasses even closer towards his monobrow. 

 

“So. You’re here to get the cast removed, am I right?” he asked without looking up. 

 

“Yes,” Aizawa replied, trying not to sound like a child. “I need a consent form to return to hero work as well.” 

 

The doctor scanned the last page of the paperwork, flicking between that and the page before it. Taking an awfully long time to reply. 

 

“Your quirk...” 

 

Aizawa felt his heart skip a beat into his throat. 

 

“...Erasure... it’s controlled with your eyes, yes?” 

 

“Yes,” Aizawa replied, his lips forming the word before he dared to think what it might mean to reply. 

 

The doctor finally sat back, lips pursed together as he placed the paperwork down on the desk with a heavy sigh. 

 

“Then it seems we’ve run into complications.” 

 

—

 

Six and a half hours later and Aizawa didn’t want to leave Tokyo Medical University Hospital. 

 

The longest part had been taking off the casts. That complied with the late night ER rush had supplied Aizawa with far too much thinking time. 

 

Permanent damage. 

 

But not irreversible. Which was a plus. 

 

They’d discharged him at just gone one am. Asking whether there was anyone who could come to collect him? 

 

Because he couldn’t drive. 

 

Obviously. 

 

That required eyes that fucking worked properly. 

 

There was one coffee shop that remained open overnight. A tiny place, the food sold out but, as if heaven had sent it, a coffee machine. 

 

Aizawa had bought an espresso to try and calm his nerves but it had ended up doing the opposite. Heightening every sense until the hairs on the back of his neck were standing high, his ears pricked for every noise. 

 

At one point a woman had been sniffling so much that he’d snapped, twisting around in his chair to tell her to ‘shut up’. 

 

Turned out her late mother had just past. 

 

And ever since being kicked out of the cafe, he’d been walking aimlessly down one of the corridors. 

 

As if maybe leaving the hospital meant that his diagnosis suddenly became real. 

 

‘The fractures to the orbital core are unable to be set back in place’

 

The corridor had glass walls either side, moonlight basking in as the light in the sky started to challenge the light of the city it coated. 

 

Aizawa looked at the stars. 

 

He wondered how many of them were dead. How many of them were so many light years away, that they’d burnt out already. Exploded into dust. 

 

He thought about England. Wondering how many people were walking home with flashlights in their hands yet. 

 

Scratch that, it was only 7pm over there. It was probably still light. 

 

He didn’t really know. 

 

He didn’t really know a lot of things. 

 

Nerve damage. Increased risk of cataracts and other related illnesses that could result in blindness. 

 

He threw the coffee cup in the bin, momentarily thinking about climate change and polar bears dying. 

 

He scoffed. Something else that was irreversible. 

 

Turning the corner, he walked into a small waiting room, a handful of people spaced as far away from one another as possible. 

 

An elderly couple, a mother with her toddler, someone in a UA uniform... 

 

“Iida?” he asked.

 

“Sensei...” he breathed in reply, not bothering to get up. To wipe the tear stains from his glasses. 

 

“What are you doing here?” 

 

His student looked up slightly, his eyes narrowing. As if he didn’t quite understand the question posed to him. 

 

“What time is it..?” he eventually asked, looking around, snapping out of his daydream. 

 

“Quarter past three,” Aizawa replied. He watched as the teenager looked down at his lap slightly, nostrils flaring. 

 

There were bags under his eyes showing off a lot more than just fatigue, bloodshot and hazy. Hair a mess, plastered to one side of the boys head.

 

“I should have been asleep... five hours ago,” Iida stated, subdued for a moment, biting his lip with some anxiety. 

 

“Yes,” Aizawa replied. Not knowing what to say but somehow realising that something needed to be said. 

 

Iida took a breath in, short, grabbing for oxygen as he continued to look at the floor. His eyes were focused, but not at the despicable colored hospital tiles. Instead, they were distant, far removed from his surroundings. 

 

Aizawa watched him for a moment before crouching in front of him. He still wasn’t used to his arms being able to move, losing his balance slightly on the balls of his feet before righting himself. 

 

“Iida, are you okay?” 

 

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied quickly. The thumb on his left hand was digging into the stitching of his belt. Over. And over. And over. 

 

“It matters to me,” Aizawa stated. He wanted to stop the hand but he didn’t. 

 

“Because you’re my teacher.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Iida shifted position slightly, tucking his left hand into his right as if he’d realised what it meant. “I’ll try and stop making you worry.”

 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Aizawa reprimanded, still trying to catch Iida’s eye. 

 

Much to his surprise and a little to his dismay, the teenager whined slightly under his breath. His hands reaching to cover his eyes but stopping just before, curling up into fists. Slamming on top of his thighs. 

 

“I didn’t know that’s what you meant,” he replied. “You know I’m literal. Everyone says I’m literal. Too literal.”

 

Aizawa finally got out of his own head enough to remember Vlad from earlier. 

 

“How’s your brother doing?” 

 

Iida looked up slightly at the sudden change in tone, watching as Aizawa took the seat next to him. It was hard and cold and exactly what a seat in a hospital waiting room should be like. Unpleasant. 

 

“He’s just come out of surgery. To see if they can help him walk again,” Iida replied, his voice hushed. 

 

Aizawa nodded slightly. “Do you think he will?”

 

“He won’t be able to be a hero again,” Iida replied. As if that held more weight than anything else. 

 

To the Iida family, it probably did. 

 

“He had a good run,” Aizawa commented. “And he will still be able to do good. There’s more than one way to be a hero.”

 

“Not to Tensei.”

 

This time Iida took off his glasses, closing and opening the temples over and over and over and over. 

 

Click-click. Click-click. Click-click.

 

Aizawa knew better than to stop him, instead, leaning back in the uncomfortable chair and looking across to the glow of the vending machine.

 

¥479 for an iced tea. Ridiculous. He’d paid   ¥230 in the shitty cafe. 

 

“I haven’t asked you why you’re here,” Iida stated, breaking the pause in conversation. “I’m sorry, I should have done that first.”

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Aizawa sighed, not unkindly. “You don’t need to ask that.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I’m your teacher.” 

 

Click-click. Click-click.

 

“Where are your parents?” Aizawa asked, the thought crossing his mind as he looked around the practically empty waiting room. 

 

“With Tensei.”

 

Click-click. Click-click.

 

“Do they know where you are?” Aizawa pressed.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Click-click. Click-click.

 

“How long have you been gone?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Click-click. Click-click.

 

“Stop fiddling with your glasses Iida.”

 

Iida did. Closing the glasses for the last time and gripping them tightly with his hand.

 

“You’re going to break them,” Aizawa warned him.

 

“I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.”

 

“It does matter,” Aizawa argued, trying to work out what was wrong with his usually calm and collected student. 

 

Well, not what was wrong exactly. That much was obvious. But Iida had never been so… uncaring. So flustered. 

 

“I doesn’t matter, nothing matters because everything has gone wrong.” he snapped back pointedly, still not looking his teacher in the eye but at least turning slightly in his direction. His voice rising but still in a whisper so as not to disturb the few others in the waiting room. So as not to draw attention to himself. 

 

“Iida can I have the glasses?” Aizawa asked calmly, holding a hand out just enough to hover over Iida’s fist. 

 

The boy didn’t release his grip, instead, screwing his eyes tight, shaking his head. 

 

“You’re not wearing casts anymore.” 

 

“They took them off.”

 

“I see that.” 

 

“Can I have the glasses Iida?” 

 

This time the boy relented, letting go of the item in his hand and letting Aizawa take it, placing them on top of his own head. 

 

“Thank you,” he said, watching Iida’s hand flex. 

 

“Why are you not angry with me? If I were Bakugou or Kirishima then you would be telling me off.” 

 

Aizawa sighed, smiling slightly under his breath. 

 

“When you’re in hospital, you have an excuse,” he replied. “When you’re in hospital, days are allowed to not go to plan.” 

 

The rising light hit Aizawa’s feet as they sat. Too bright to look at but too bright to look away. Every dust particle caught in the hues. 

 

Sunrise. 

 

“Is that why you’re up at 3am as well?” Iida asked, voice distant, staring at the wall in front. 

 

It was more like 4am now. 

 

“No. This is just who I am as a person.” Aizawa replied with a grin. 

Notes:

Okay the last three prompts which received the same amount of votes!!

- Sick Bakugou
- Games Night
- 1B and 1A stuck together

Most popular will be next week and so on and so forth!

Chapter 41: Lying on the Kitchen Floor

Summary:

In which Bakugou decides to take a nap on the kitchen floor.

FULL FEVER MODE ACTIVATED

Notes:

Happy Friday y'all!!!

So! I'm! Super! Sick! Yay!!!! (not)
I mean I'm alive but bearly I basically have spent the last three days sleeping non-stop and only getting up to go to work or to eat. Which is a MOOD.
But, in light of that, I thought I'd write sick Bakugou.

But I wrote sick Bakugou as I started to get a fever.

So I wrote absolute NONSENSE!!!

But it kinda worked. So I kept it all.

And here you go.

(Also, ps. I myself have really laid myself out on the kitchen floor whilst ill. It's nice and cold. Oml can you tell I'm still out of it HAHAHA)

(Pps I will reply to comments tomorrow x I love you all and THANK YOU SO SO MUCH. I just can’t stare at a screen for more than half an hour rn without wanted to yeet myself into the vortex)

Everywhere was hot. 

 

Well, okay it was summer, but still. Being on one of the top floors of dorms meant the heat just rose to Bakugou’s room. The air outside was stagnant as well, hardly a breeze and Bakugou was hot. 

 

Hot like a clammy hot, cold sweat sticking the tips of his hair down over his eyes. Making the bags under his eyes look heavier. Making his skin seem milkier and translucent. 

 

His head throbbed as well. Probably from dehydration. His chapped lips and dry mouth further alluding to the fact that Bakugou was probably more likely to be ill.

 

Or at the very least had a fever. 

 

Which did mean he was ill. 

 

He picked his way through dinner, snapping insults at anyone who looked at him funny. Which, after a while, was no one. Because they all stopped talking to him.

 

Perfect.

 

Kirishima gave him a pointed look but Bakugou just pouted, looking down and avoiding eye contact. Continuing to push rice around his plate with his chopstick. 

 

Until he had to look up. Because his nose was running. 

 

—

 

Getting back into his room, he feigned being tired, getting pissed off when no one seemed to question it. 

 

He didn’t look that bad, did he? 

 

Catching a look at himself in the reflection of the glass window..? Yeah, okay he did look that bad.

 

Oh fucking fuck, fucking fuck fuc-

 

Harsh coughing erupted from his mouth faster than the string of curses, taking him by surprise and buckling him. He whipped his head around, checking, making sure that no one had seen him. 

 

Because God forbid anyone saw him ill. 

 

He could already picture it. Kirishima and Kaminari would smother him, Jiro would awkwardly hover and Ashido would bounce around him trying to show off some shitty dance move… 

 

He didn’t need those idiots he decided as he pushed the door to his room open. 

 

Fucking hell it was hot in there, why the hell was the AC not working-

 

Bakugou flicked the switch just beside the door expecting to hear the whir of air begin to pulsate around the room. A cool breeze to make his skin feel twenty degrees colder. 

 

Nothing.

 

The AC wasn’t working.

 

Fucking fuck.

 

—

 

It turned out that coming back down into the kitchen was worse than climbing the stairs up to the third floor. 

 

Climbing the stairs because getting the lift was for weaklings and idiots. 

 

Obviously.

 

It had taken an hour before Bakugou could no longer bear it. He’d ended up in the shower, running ice cold water down his back until he was certain that his shivering was because of the outside temperature rather than his internal thermometer. 

 

He was so thirsty. It wasn’t until he’d found himself looking up, mouth open to catch some of the shower water on his chapped lips. He should probably man up and get himself a drink.

 

‘Man up’ 

 

Reminded him of Kirishima. 

 

Shoving on the nearest sweatpants littered on the floor, Bakugou had mustered the energy to wander downstairs. Catching a glimpse at his alarm clock on the way out. 

 

8:45pm

 

Usually, he was in bed at this point. Jeez, how long had he been in the shower?

 

He was almost regretting coming out now. His once dry skin dampening as whatever God-forsaken fever decided to rise once more. This time hitting his head, making his brain feel twice the size, his eyes squinting at the light. 

 

The sun was setting. It made the kitchen surfaces glow almost, it would have been nice. If it wasn’t piercing into his fucking skull.

 

The tiles of the kitchen floor were cold on his feet, taking him by surprise at first before he realised that he’d left his slippers upstairs. 

 

It was a nice cold though. A really nice cold. A complete contrast to his aching head yet not enough. The floor would probably feel quite nice on his forehead. 

 

Bakugou didn’t really think but suddenly he was resting his forehead on the floor, his knees tucked underneath him. 

 

Not comfortable. He pulled his legs from beneath him, splaying out across the kitchen floor. Spotting crumbs in his peripheral vision. 

 

Man, this was disgusting. 

 

But nice and cold. 

 

Besides. It was nearly nine. So no one was going to come into the kitchen in the next five or so minutes. He could lay here for a bit, then get up and grab his drink and go or whatever. 

 

And if anyone came in? Well… he would make an excuse. 

 

Something like… 

 

Something like..?

 

—

 

“Bakugou... why are you lying on the kitchen floor?”

 

Bakugou opened one eye lazily to see the one person he didn’t want to see staring back down at him. 

 

He hissed under his breath but made no move to sit up. 

 

“It’s cold,” he replied instead, excuse out of the window, as Iida stepped over him. The other person he didn’t want to see. 

 

“You shouldn’t lie on a floor Bakugou. It’s unhygienic,” Iida stated, arms waving. “Besides, you’re in the way.” 

 

“Fuck off then.” 

 

“Why don’t you go stand in the fridge if you want to be cold?” Uraraka asked with a beaming smile, also hopping over the explosive teen. “Although the sun’s set now…”

 

“I don’t fit in the fridge,” Bakugou replied, yawning. 

 

“Did you want a drink?” Midoryia asked brightly, bending back over Bakugou one leg either side of his head. 

 

He did. He really did. 

 

“No. Fuck off.” he found himself replying instead, mentally kicking himself for his stubbornness. 

 

“There’s orange juice!” Uraraka sung. 

 

“That is only for certain people,” Iida was quick to interrupt. “I need orange juice for my quick. It’s my fuel.”

 

Bakugou shut his eyes, trying to block the sounds out from his mind. 

 

“It sounds expensive.” he hissed, voice laced with sarcasm that he knew would go straight over Iida’s head. 

 

“It is!” Iida replied earnestly. “My brother as well. He uses grapefruit juice-“

 

“Come on Iida! Let’s go do homework!” Bakugou heard Uraraka chime, as the voices got more and more distant. 

 

Thank God for Round Face. 

 

He could go back to sleep. 

 

—

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

 

Bakugou opened his eyes this time to see Dark Shadow, batting the entity out of his face. 

 

Tokoyami looked unfazed above him. 

 

“I need to get to the sink.” 

 

“Why?” Bakugou growled, however his growl ended up sounding more like a whine. 

 

Credit to him, Tokoyami answered despite rolling his eyes beforehand. 

 

“I’m making Aizawa-Sensei a coffee,” he replied pointedly. “His cup is by the sink.” 

 

Every muscle in Bakugou’s body screamed at him not to move, his mind clouding over his options. 

 

“Use one of my cups,” he found himself replying. “In my cupboard.”

 

“What?” 

 

Bakugou didn’t want to repeat himself so instead, he pointed to the cupboard above the two. 

 

“But you never let anyone use your mugs...” Tokoyami started, the noise causing Bakugou’s head to throb. 

 

“Just use it.” he hissed. 

 

“Are you okay?” Tokoyami persisted, a falter to his voice that, even in his half-asleep state, Bakugou could easily pick up on. 

 

Brilliant. The last thing he needed was for the bird boy to tell Aizawa or something equally as stupid. 

 

Water boiled in the background. The first soothing sound of the day. A hot drink would be nice for his throat or something. Bakugou would have swallowed but he was lacking saliva. 

 

Shit. 

 

He still hadn’t answered Tokoyami’s question. 

 

“M getting up in a minute.”

 

A cupboard opened and closed to his left.

 

“Right…”

 

Tokoyami didn’t sound convinced. 

 

“Go eat bird seed.” Bakugou snapped instead, making an effort to at least move an arm. And be sarcastic. 

 

“No thanks. I’d rather eat my second-cousin.” Tokoyami replied quickly. 

 

“You probably would.”

 

“Depends how seasoned they were.”

 

“Cannibal.”

 

“Narcissist.”

 

A clink of a teaspoon hitting the sides of a mug. And then.

 

“I’m going now,” Tokoyami stated. 

 

Bakugou nearly opened his eyes. But didn’t.

 

“Are… you going to move?” Tokoyami continued. 

 

“Yes,” Bakugou replied. So. Much. Energy. Just. To. Speak. “Fuck off.”

 

“Fuck you.” 

 

And the footsteps receded into the distance. 

 

Brilliant. Peace and quiet. 

 

Another classmate fooled and another five minutes of not having to do anything. 

 

Bakugou was getting good at this.

 

—

 

The faint buzz of conversation dragged him out from his slumber for the third time. 

 

At this point, his skin burned. He could feel the heat radiating from the floor, warming the tiles beside him. He thought about Deku offering him a drink earlier, (how much earlier even was that?) but even thinking hurt. 

 

The lights flicked on, the colour from the inside of his eyelids changing from black to orange as he squeezed them tightly. His head throbbed as he heard himself wince, the voices coming closer. 

 

“Hey... Bakugou? Hey… Hey bro!”

 

Kirishima.

 

Blegh. No. 

 

Bakugou vaguely recalled signalling his body to bat upwards, hoping to make contact with Kirishima’s face in the process. 

 

He didn’t. His arms kind of felt heavy instead and flopped to the side. It just made the burning situation worse somehow.

 

“Hey bro, can you open your eyes?”

 

No. 

 

Well sure he could but nah, he didn’t want to. Kirishima could go suck a dick. Or mind his own business. 

 

Maybe he was making coffee as well. No. He didn’t drink coffee. He thought that it tasted like dirt. 

 

Fuck he kept on not answering questions. 

 

“Do you need to drink dick?” he slurred, his throat sandpaper in his mouth.

 

Wait. Shit. That wasn’t right.

 

“Dink.” he tried again. “Sink.”

 

“Bro. What?”

 

If anything, Kirishima sounded more concerned now and that wasn’t Bakugou’s intention. Idiot worried too much. He was fine.

 

“Are you making me move for the beans?” he asked as sincerely as he could. 

 

A hand, nice and cold, laid on his forehead for a split second before it went. 

 

Why was life so cruel? 

 

More voices had joined Kirishima’s now. Well like maybe, fuck everything was loud. 

 

Aizawa’s name was mentioned though. No. Nope. Nah. No way was his teacher seeing him lying on the kitchen floor. Iida was bad enough. 

 

Bakugou tried to raise an arm again but gave up after a while. It hurt too much, a slow throb that gave into a whimper.

 

The hand returned to the forehead, this time stroking the hair back gently. 

 

Who’s fucking hand was that?

 

It was fucking nice.

 

A really fucking nice hand. 

 

If Bakugou could have new hands, those were the hands he would choose.

 

Like fucking soft and cold and shit. 

 

Like just a really fucking nice hand.

 

The space by his head kind of shifted slightly for a moment before the hand twisted being replaced with some sort of cloth. 

 

The cloth was fine. 

 

Commotion came from just beyond him, the lights seemingly getting brighter, causing Bakugou to hiss involuntary as a presence appeared to the side of him. 

 

“Bakugou. Open your eyes.”

 

Aizawa’s voice was commanding, splitting the sides of his head into two. This time the pain was such that Bakugou couldn’t help by cry out slightly. 

 

His voice sounded louder in his head than it did to anyone else. 

 

Probably.

 

“Bakugou. I need you to open your eyes.”

 

How had it gotten to this? What had he done wrong?

 

He attempted to grunt instead of making intellectual words. He could sense just how many people were around him now, his cheeks firing red. 

 

Everything hurt. Like properly, really hurt. For the first time in a while. A bone-breaking ache followed by the sting of his flesh burning into itself. 

 

There were too many people, the fucking nice hands were gone and now someone was trying to make him open his eyes?

 

Fuck. This. 

 

OH WAIT.

 

“I meant coffee beans.” he managed to make out as footsteps moved around him once more. 

 

“Bro it’s okay. We know.”

 

Kirishima didn’t sound reassured as much as Bakugou wanted him to be. He didn’t get it. He was making sense now. 

 

That was until he felt arms reach under him and drag him upwards. 

 

The pain was searing. As if his whole body was being dragged across burning spikes.

 

Bakugou heard himself scream before he even realised it was him. As if the whole thing was on echo delay. The world turning black.

 

Which was funny, because Bakugou could have sworn he already had his eyes clos-

 

—

 

When Bakugou next woke up he awoke to warmth. The kind of warmth that lulled him, the throbbing of his muscles ebbing away. 

 

He must have woken up enough to alert someone because the moment he opened his eyes he found himself staring straight back at his hometown teacher. 

 

Aizawa was stretched forward on a chair, eyes intense, forehead creased. 

 

"Good evening," he stated. In a tone much softer than the one Bakugou was used to him using around him. 

 

He went to reply but his words quickly got caught up in his throat. Aizawa moved to the side of him, Bakugou too tired to keep track. 

 

“Water?”

 

Bakugou nodded instead of speaking, waiting a second before feeling a glass against his lips, seeing it glinting in the light. 

 

“Do you know where you are?” Aizawa continued as Bakugou swallowed. 

 

“Yes.”

 

His homeroom teacher sighed. If Bakugou could hear the rolling of eyes he would probably be able to hear that as well. 

 

“Then where?” he pressed. 

 

Bakugou scanned his eyes around his surroundings as he heard the glass of water move back onto the bedside. 

 

“The infirmary,” he replied a grit to his voice.

 

"Okay. Good." 

 

His homeroom teacher sounded a little too relieved for Bakugou's liking. His mind was still too foggy though, attempting to piece together the words too slowly before Aizawa continued.

 

“You should be glad Tokoyami took the initiative to tell me where you were,” he said. “You’re lucky you decided to pass out in the kitchen and not your own room.”

 

“I didn’t pass out,” Bakugou was quick to interrupt, his throat protesting as he forced the words out. “I was sleeping.”

 

“Could have fooled me,” his homeroom teacher replied. “You’re lucky you were only there for twenty minutes or so.”

 

Twenty minutes? Everything earlier happened in twenty minutes?! That was like… the length of a homeroom class or the time it took him to run a 5k. That was-

 

“Bakugou do you know why having a fever is dangerous for you?” Aizawa questioned, breaking through his thoughts by leaning forwards, scanning Bakugou’s eyes for his attention, glinting in the light of the bedside lamp. 

 

“Because the more I sweat, the higher the concentration of nitroglycerin in my body and then I lose control of my quirk,” Bakugou recited. A sentence he knew off by heart. One he'd said so many times, he didn't even have to think about.

 

“It took us over three quarters of an hour to get your tempeture out of the danger zone,” Aizawa stated, his stare not wavering. “And I promise you. Scariest hour of my life so far.”

 

Bakugou blew air out of his nose. No way that was true. Even if his Sensei’s expression said otherwise. Although, Aizawa was probably more scared of his mum's reaction than anything else-

 

“Do my parents know..?” 

 

“Of course your parents know,” Aizawa said, leaning back in his chair again, brushing his hands off on his pants. “They’re coming to pick you up tomorrow and take you home.”

 

He was going to protest. No way was he missing that much school. From the four days he’d missed from that stupid house arrest incident, he knew how much stuff he could miss. How far behind he could get.

 

But his muscles protested anyway. His throat didn’t want to shout. The dull ache behind his head was coming back at full force. 

 

He’d argue after he slept. 

 

“Where’s Recovery Girl?” he asked, feeling his eyes shut of their own accord. 

 

“Monoma, somehow, got his head stuck in the bannister in 1B’s dorms,” Aizawa replied with a sigh. “It was funny. Until his lips started turning blue.”

 

Bakugou smilied as he felt his body begin to become weightless. 

 

Stupid fucking Monoma.

Notes:

Next chapter will be games night!!!

(mostly as I want to be fully recovered to tackle writing 50 characters in the 1A/1B chapter haha)

So comment below what games the kids should play and all y'all headcanons.

xxx

Chapter 42: Games Night

Summary:

The only way 1A would ever end up playing board games would be if the electricity cut out.

Or if Kirishima broke the TV...

Whoops.

Notes:

Yooooo

Number one - I am so SORRY for basically skipping a week and not telling a soul haha.
I run a business teaching young children and it’s exam season so I was extremely busy getting them all through their exams. But I’m back! And I’m super confident they all did really really well! If any of you guys have had exams I hope they went well as well!

I hope I’ve done this chapter justice. Hmmm I feel as if this is one of my weaker ones because my heart wasn’t in it. But hey, you guys can be the judge of that :)

There was a crash, a snap and then...

 

What sounded like the end of someone’s life.

 

“SHIT SHIT SHIT!”

 

“SERO YOU’RE SO DEAD, I LITERALLY HATE YOU.”

 

“WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU LET GO OF YOUR QUIRK KIRISHIMA?!”

 

Midoryia looked up from the monopoly board at the same time as Iida and Uraraka, the three turning their heads simultaneously towards the door of his bedroom. 

 

“What was that?” he breathed, his metal boat playing piece hovering in the air above ‘Osaka’. 

 

“I don’t know…” Uraraka replied. “…Also you owe me ¥6,541.”

 

“What? Oh, I don’t have it… errr… okay I’ll mortgage Kyoto.” 

 

“Should we check it out..?” Uraraka asked tentatively. Midoryia turned the card over, handing it to Iida. 

 

“The bank can give you ¥54,513.” Iida stated, Midoryia’s face glowing. 

 

“Woah! Money!” he cried, clawing for the notes. 

 

Uraraka giggled, holding her hand out for her payment.

 

“You’re so bad at this game Deku.”

 

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED SHITTY RED HEAD?!

 

A voice erupted from downstairs again, interrupting the trio from their game. Iida pushed his glasses up, as Uraraka went to get up. 

 

“Bakugou?” Iida asked.

 

“Kacchan,” Midoryia confirmed. 

 

“We should at least see what’s going on.” Uraraka reasoned, abandoning the game and standing up to leave. 

 

An overpowering roar made them jump, the voice instantly recognisable. Instantly terrifying. 

 

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?!”

 

“Ohhhhh! That was Aizawa!” Midoryia cried, jumping up and knocking the pieces over. 

 

“Be careful!” Iida yelled, scrambling to put them back in place. 

 

“We have to go and check it out now!” Uraraka agreed, jumping in her place. “Come on, come on, come on!”

 

Iida reluctantly left the board as it was.

 

“We’re coming!” Iida replied as the three struggled to put on their slippers, clattering down the stairs, joined by Ashido and Kaminari. 

 

Seemingly the shouting had been heard from the floor above as well..

 

They arrived in the common area, just in time to see Aizawa, eyes red, holding Kirishima at eye level with his capture weapon. Midoryia, skidded to a halt, just short of the kitchen table. Uraraka tucked herself under his arm, Iida crashing into the two instead. 

 

“He broke the TV,” Midoryia breathed. 

 

That much was obvious. The flatscreen was almost snapped in two, glass splintered across the floor, the whole unit tipped to the left. And smoking.

 

“What on EARTH do you think you were playing at?” Aizawa was snapping at Kirishima, his voice dripping with venom. 

 

Kirishima looked as if he was about to cry, Sero and Jiro looking sheepish in the background. The rest of 1A had seemingly thought along the same train as Midoryia, Iida and Uraraka. All hovering around the entrances. 

 

“It wasn’t all his fault…” Jiro replied, coming forwards and bowing slightly. “We were playing a game, I tripped him up…”

 

“And you were using your quirks because?” Aizawa snapped back, his eyes flicking between the three teenagers. 

 

“Sometimes I use my hardening when I know I’m going to fall, because it helps prevent injuries…” Kirishima replied, his voice quiet, trying to avoid Aizawa’s glare. 

 

Their homeroom teacher sighed, releasing his quirk and allowing Kirishima to step back slightly, falling in line with Jiro and Sero. 

 

“You will all be paying for a new tv,” he started, his teeth clenched. 

 

The students mouths dropped. 

 

“Sensei… I can’t afford that!” Sero protested. “Even a third of that!”

 

“I didn’t finish,” Aizawa snapped, pinning Sero’s mouth shut with a stare. “I didn’t specify how you’d be paying.”

 

Apparently payment came in the form of cleaning the entire dorm and writing an essay each on the proper quirk use.

 

And no screens for a month. For anyone.

 

Not that 1A had a TV anymore. 

 

—

 

“It’s a shame we can’t have our Saturday movie night,” Yaoyorozu sighed. She was making tea. 

 

A few hours had passed since the ‘incident’. The TV was gone from the room, all the games consoles along with it, leaving a gap in the room. The entire class had been forced to attend a lecture on quirk usage from Aizawa which had lasted forty minutes. And now the majority of students were hidden away in their rooms. 

 

“Momo, that kind of makes me feel more shit than I already do,” Kirishima snapped, from where he was wiping the skirting boards. One of his punishments.

 

“Sorry,” Yaoyorozu shrugged. “I just had a good movie to suggest.”

 

“Why can’t we just get someone to play it on a laptop?” Ashido offered from where she was sitting, next to Todoroki at the kitchen table. 

 

“Because we’re not allowed to use any screens until further notice,” Yaoyorozu replied.

 

“Well thanks for thinking of us,” Kirishima muttered. 

 

“I had Jiro in mind,” Yaoyorozu was quick to add. Ashido sucked the air in through her teeth. Kirishima turned, nostrils flared. 

 

“Look it wasn’t just me who broke the TV! Okay?!” 

 

“Well it was,” Todoroki added.

 

Kirishima went to retort, but instead with a shaky intake of breath, stormed out. Passing Koda on the way.

 

“I didn’t mean to make him cry again…” Yaoyorozu said out loud. 

 

“I think Todoroki did that,” Ashido pointed out. 

 

“What did I say?”

 

“Hey Koda!” Ashido smiled, waving at the boy and Ignoring Todoroki. “What have you got there?”

 

Koda lifted up the objects in his arms to wave pack, placing them on the table. 

 

“Board games,” he replied. 

 

“Oh! That’s such a good idea!” Yaoyorozu smiled, pouring the tea into glasses and coming over to the table to have a look. “The Game of Life?! I haven’t played that since I was a kid!”

 

“I thought we could do this tonight instead of watching a movie,” Koda signed, going red as the girls poured themselves over the assortment of games. 

 

“Yes! That’s such a good idea!” Ashido beamed. “Oh. My. God. Cards Against Humanity! Yes! Can we have dares?!”

 

“I guess we can!” Yaoyorozu smiled. Todoroki looked up, confused. 

 

“What kind of dar-“ 

 

“Alright! Who made shitty hair cry?!”

 

Bakugou appeared in the doorway, forehead creased, eyes scanning around the room.

 

“I mean. He deserves it,” he continued. “But still. Who did it?”

 

“Apparently I did,” Todoroki replied, hardly looking up. 

 

“He’s crying?” Yaoyorozu asked as Bakugou stormed towards Todoroki, palm raised. 

 

“Hey Bakugou! Look!” Ashido interrupted, shoving The Game of Life into his face, blocking the explosive boy from getting to their classmate. 

 

“What the fuck is that?” he asked, trying to bat the board game out of his way. Koda looked on worriedly, fearing for the flammability of the box. 

 

“We should play!” Ashido continued. “Instead of movie night!”

 

“If we’re going to play something we’re going to play MarioKart,” Bakugou snapped, seemingly forgetting his fight with Todoroki. Not that Todoroki had noticed.  

 

“We can’t.” Koda pointed out. “Screens...”

 

“Kirishima wouldn’t be able to play.” Yaoyorozu reiterated. “Neither would Jiro.”

 

“Fucking fine.” Bakugou hissed. “Whatever.” 

 

“After dinner then?” Ashido beamed, shaking the contents of the box. 

 

There was a pause, then resounding nods from around the table. 

 

“Todoroki?” Yaoyorozu prompted.

 

“As long as someone explains the rules,” he replied. 

 

—

 

“Alright, take seven cards at random,” Iida read out the rules, the four clambering for the cards before he’d even finished. 

 

“Don’t worry!” Uraraka smiled. “I’ve played before.”

 

“I haven’t,” Iida replied. “Wait. Am I the only one?” 

 

“I think so!” Midoryia smiled. 

 

“Even you Todoroki?” Mineta asked, peering up at the boy in question. 

 

“This is my set,” he announced proudly. “They’re custom.” 

 

“Woah, well that’s unexpected...” 

 

“What are the custom cards?” Uraraka asked as she flicked through her hand.

 

“Mostly based around my father,” Todoroki replied with a shrug. 

 

“Such as..?!” Mineta egged on, his eyes wide. 

 

“What do you mean?” Todoroki replied. 

 

“Give us an example!” Mineta grinned eagerly. 

 

“Oh. Right. Well one of them just says ‘Endeavor’...” 

 

There was a pause as the group took the information in before;

 

“Seriously that’s it?!” Mineta cried. 

 

“Huh. I was kind of expecting something more imaginative...” Uraraka agreed. 

 

Todoroki looked down at his cards, avoiding eye contact with the group. 

 

“I have a lot of feelings...” 

 

“I think I’m read up on the rules!” Iida announced, placing the rule book down and picking up his own hand of cards. “Who wants to go first?”

 

“Shortest!” 

 

“That’s not fair!”

 

“Fine! Girls first!” 

 

“No, no, no!”

 

“In the seventh circle of hell, sinners must endure __________ for all eternity.”

 

“Iida went first!” Uraraka cried, already scanning through her cards. 

 

“I thought it was practical,” the boy reasoned. “You would have ended up arguing for too long.” 

 

“Can you repeat the prompt?” Todoroki asked. 

 

Iida nodded, holding the card up and reading aloud;

 

“In the seventh circle of hell, sinners must endure __________ for all eternity.”

 

Todoroki placed his card down almost immediately. 

 

“Ohhhh! Fast!” Uraraka grinned, the two boys concentrating too hard to notice. 

 

Midoryia was the next to place his card down, then Mineta, and finally Uraraka. 

 

“Now I read them out?” Iida asked hesitantly. 

 

“Yeah, filling in the blanks!” Midoryia replied. “One at a time.” 

 

“Right. Okay!” 

 

Iida turned the first card, taking a moment before reading aloud. 

 

“In the seventh circle of hell, sinners must endure ethnic cleansing for all eternity.”

 

Midoryia spluttered into his hand, Mineta’s mouth dropping open as even Todoroki’s eyes went wide. 

 

“Strong start!” Mineta grinned after composing himself. 

 

Iida continued;

 

“In the seventh circle of hell, sinners must endure the screams... the terrible screams for all eternity.”

 

“In the seventh circle of hell, sinners must endure All Might’s shiny butt cheeks for all eternity.”

 

“Does he have shiny butt cheeks?” Uraraka asked, turning towards Midoryia who shrugged. 

 

“Yeah. I’d say they glint in the sun.” 

 

“And finally!” Iida announced. 

 

“In the seventh circle of hell, sinners must endure Endeavor for all eternity.”

 

The group turned towards Todoroki who was genuinely, and scarily, smiling. 

 

“Custom pack,” he grinning proudly. 

 

—

 

“Tuition fee’s are expensive in the US,” Tokoyami commented. 

 

Him, alongside most of the Baku-squad were playing the Game of Life.

 

Bakugou was the banker.

 

“Give me $100,000,” he commanded and Tokoyami reluctantly handed over the money, spinning the wheel. He picked up an action card, reading it aloud. 

 

“You are officially the nicest person in the room. Give a chosen player a compliment and spin. Land on numbers 1-5 and you get $50,000. Nice.”

 

“Give us a compliment then,” Ashido grinned. Tokoyami gave her a withered look.

 

“It says I can give anyone a compliment,” he pointed out. “I’m a player so I’m going to compliment myself.”

 

“That’s not fair!” Sero grinned. 

 

“And kinda narcissistic,” Jiro added. 

 

“I don’t care, I love myself,” Tokoyami replied. 

 

“Oh fuck off do you,” Bakugou hissed. 

 

“You should try it sometime,” Tokoyami retorted, spinning to land a four, and holding his hand out. “My money please.”

 

“No,” Bakugou replied haughtily. “You have to compliment me first.”

 

Tokoyami sighed deeply, staring at Bakugou. 

 

“Fine. You’re really good at pissing people off.”

 

“Guys can we get through this game without fighting?” Kirishima pouted from the other side of the board. 

 

“You’re the only one pissing anyone off right now,” Bakugou replied. “Also we wouldn’t be playing this stupid game if you hadn’t broken the tv.”

 

There was a split second before. 

 

“Don’t you dare start crying again, shitty hair.”

 

“Look, we gave you the position of the banker. Get on with it,” Jiro groaned. “This is boring.”

 

“Of course it’s boring! It’s a board game,” Bakugou snapped. 

 

“Well why are you playing then?” Yayoyrozu asked. 

 

“I don’t know!” 

 

“You’re upset because your occupation is ‘maid’ aren’t you,” Tokoyami asked, picking up one of Bakugou’s cards. 

 

Bakugou snatched it back, almost snarling at the boy, teeth bared. 

 

“Get off my cards.” 

 

“Be careful!” Yaoyorozu cried. “This is Koda’s game!” 

 

“Where is Koda?” Sero asked.

 

“Playing on the Xbox with Sato, Shoji and Ojiro,” Jiro replied. “No one tell Aizawa.”

 

“Wait WHAT?!” Sero cried. “I wanna play on the xbox!” 

 

“Go on then,” Bakugou snapped. 

 

“No!” Yaoyorozu cried. “We are all playing a game. No one is quitting, no one is breaking the rules. Tokoyami, give Bakugou a compliment and get on with it.”

 

Tokoyami rolled his eyes slightly. 

 

“If I must. Bakugou, you have a nice…”

 

The group waited in hushed silence. Tokoyami’s eyes narrowed on the blonde boy. 

 

“…Nice… A nice jawline.”

 

“Jesus…” Jiro groaned. 

 

“Good enough!” Kirishima cried, Bakugou reluctantly handing the money over. “Next person spin!”

 

“Really living up to your name there, ‘nicest person in the room’,” Bakugou scoffed. 

 

“Well if you want to play it like that, I’d love a drink,” Tokoyami responded. “Maid.”

 

—

 

Five rounds later and unsurprisingly Mineta was in the lead. 

 

“You have such a dirty mind!” Uraraka cried after yet another win to the purple haired boy. 

 

“It has it’s uses,” Mineta grinned. 

 

“My favourite so far has been ‘An Oedipus Complex, kid tested, mother approved,’” Midoryia giggled, picking up another card from the pack. 

 

“Takes one to know one I assume,” Iida commented. 

 

“My turn to read!”

 

Uraraka grabbed a card from the pack and turned it over dramatically. 

 

“I drink to forget ______”

 

Silence fell over the group as they all flicked through their cards, one by one, placing them down on the floor in front of Uraraka. 

 

“Did you get a hero custom pack in here?” Midoryia asked Todoroki as he debated between two choices. 

 

“Yeah I think so,” Todoroki responded as he picked up a new card. 

 

“I thought there was a lot of All Might references,” Iida commented. 

 

“Ready Deku?” Uraraka asked. 

 

“Oh, oh, oh wait!” the boy replied, hesitating before finally placing a card down. “Okay… I think I should have put the other one down.”

 

“Too late!” Uraraka cried reading them aloud. 

 

“I drink to forget explosions.”

 

She looked across at Midoryia with a grin. 

 

“That one was yours.”

 

“What makes you think that!” Midoryia asked, trying to hide the truth unconvincingly. 

 

Uraraka didn’t reply, instead nodding towards where Bakugou was close to exploding the entire board, arguing with Yaoyorozu.

 

“Explosions?” she asked knowingly as Midoryia went red. 

 

“I should have put butt sex,” he replied.

 

“In that context I think that’s worse,” Iida stated causing Midoryia’s cheeks to go even darker. 

 

“Next!”

 

“I drink to forget a fully dressed female video game character- MINETA!” 

 

“How did you know?!” Mineta gasped. 

 

Uraraka didn’t bother explaining herself for that. 

 

“I drink to forget alcoholism… hmmm…” Uraraka looked between the two remaining boys. “I want to say Todoroki but it makes too much sense so I’m going to say Iida.”

 

“Guessing who got the answers isn’t the point of the game,” Todoroki interrupted. 

 

“And finally! I drink to forget child protection services…”

 

The group turned to Todoroki once more. 

 

“Please tell me that one wasn’t from your-

 

“Custom pack,” Todoroki grinned.

 

—

 

“Truth or dare.” 

 

The Game of Life had officially been discarded. Apparently having a nuclear family had been the last straw for Bakugou and no one had been bothered to argue with him anymore. As it stood, Kirishima had won with the most money but the board left strewn to the side. 

 

“No that’s boring. Also I don’t want to break anything else,” Kirishima yawned. 

 

“Okay twenty one truths,” Sero offered. 

 

“But Bakugou will asked stupid questions,” Jiro pointed out. 

 

“How about if you don’t want to answer then you drink some awful concoction,” Kirishima perked up, Sero catching his eye as the two ran to the kitchen. 

 

“That sounds like the worst idea ever,” Yaoyorozu replied, but got up anyway. 

 

“Put an egg in it!” Kirishima cried as Sero grabbed a glass from the cupboard. 

 

“Do NOT put an egg into it,” Jiro squirmed. “Or I’ll never drink it.”

 

“That’s the point though,” Sero replied. “You’re meant to not want to reply, that way you’ll give us all the juicy gossip.”

 

“No I’ll lie,” Jiro replied. 

 

“We’ll be able to tell!” Sero grinned. 

 

“Hm. We’ll see.” 

 

“Are we really doing this?” Tokoyami asked, padding over to the kitchen, Bakugou following behind. Far away enough so it was apparent the two were still angry at one another.

 

“What playing twenty one truths or putting an egg in a cup?” Kirishima replied. 

 

“Both,” Bakugou snapped. 

 

“Yeah!” 

 

“Oh jeez,” Jiro sighed watching the hyper-active boys rummage through the contents of fridge. 

 

“Why don’t we have any eggs?” Sero complained after a moment. 

 

“Let me have a look,” Jiro sighed, coming up behind them and peering over their shoulder. “Oh shit wait we don’t.”

 

“We have quails eggs,” Kirishima pointed out. 

 

“Who’d use quail eggs? They’re quite posh,” Yaoyorozu remarked, almost inappropriately. 

 

“Moi.”

 

The group turned to watch as Aoyama walked in, face covered in a face mask, a drink in hand.

 

“Why?” Sero asked as Aoyama reached around to grab the orange juice from under his arm.

 

“Do you want to play twenty one dares with us?” Kirishima cheered. 

 

“No I’m playing Xbox,” Aoyama replied, slurping the juice through his straw loudly. “Don’t tell Aizawa.”

 

“You can’t play though,” Bakugou scoffed. “You’re shit at the controls.”

 

“Well, I’m watching,” Aoyama replied, replacing the orange juice in the fridge and going to leave the room. “And painting Shoji’s nails.”

 

“Can we borrow some orange juice?” Kirishima called after him. 

 

“Oui. Mines the one with bits in. The other one’s Iida’s,” Aoyama called back before he vanished from sight. 

 

“Okay! So we have orange juice and quail eggs!” Kirishima grinned. “What else!”

 

“Vinegar,” Tokoyami replied.

 

“YES!”

 

“Why are you encouraging him?!” Jiro hissed as Sero reached into another cupboard. 

 

“I have nothing to hide,” the boy shrugged. 

 

“Got it!” Sero called. “And I’ve got baking soda as well! For fizz.”

 

“I already feel as if I’m going to throw up,” Jiro winced, Yaoyorozu nodding her head beside her. 

 

“I can’t believe you’re going along with it,” she retorted, looking across to Bakugou with a smirk. “Is it because Kirishima’s having fun.”

 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou replied.

 

—

 

‘What’s fun until it gets weird?’

 

“The winner is… A bunch of idiots playing a card game instead of interacting like normal human beings,” Midoryia grinned.

 

“Finally! I won a round!” Iida cheered, proudly taking the prompt card from his best friends hand. 

 

“This time, the fact that you just answer the prompt actually worked!” Midoryia smiled. “It made me giggle.

 

“Well done Iida!” Uraraka cheered. 

 

“I’m still winning though,” Mineta added.

 

“You’re good at this game,” Todoroki commented. “Maybe it could be a back up career. Put your dirty mind to use.”

 

“Is that a compliment..?” Mineta asked as Uraraka shifted up onto her knees, looking across to the kitchen.

 

“What are they doing?” she asked under her breath, the group turning to see Kirishima and Sero mixing something in some sort of glass. 

 

“Not sure. It’s my go,” Mineta replied, picking up a card. 

 

“What you looking at Round Face?!” Bakugou hollered across the common area. 

 

“What you doing?” Uraraka called back. 

 

“Twenty one truths but if you don’t answer you have to drink this concoction,” he replied, pointing down to the glass. 

 

“I’m adding ICE CREAM!” Kirishima yelled with a grin. 

 

“Want to join?” Bakugou growled. 

 

“Should we?” Uraraka offered to the group. “We can come back to this game later? I mean, Mineta is clearly the winner.” 

 

“I don’t mind,” Iida replied. “What is twenty one truths?”

 

“Are you coming?!” Bakugou shouted, his hands cupped around his mouth. 

 

“Yes!” Uraraka cried back. “We’ll explain on the way.” she smiled to Iida. 

 

—

 

“One, two, three.”

 

“Four, five.”

 

“Six, seven eight.”

 

The tension around the kitchen table was almost palatable. The group were sat, counting up to the dangerous twenty-one figure.

 

“Nine.”

 

“Ten, eleven.”

 

“Twelve, thirteen, fourteen.”

 

“Fiveteen, sixteen, seventeen.”

 

“Eighteen, nineteen, twenty.”

 

All eleven students turned to look at Uraraka. 

 

“Oh… twenty-one,” the girl counted nervously. 

 

“Truth!” Ashido called.

 

“What do we want to know about Uraraka though?”  Sero asked excitedly.

 

Kirishima leaned across the table, head cupped in his hands. 

 

“Err… Hi,” Uraraka grinned nervously, looking up.

 

“Snog, marry, kill?” Kirishima asked. “Ausi, All Might and Midoryia.”

 

The temperature of the room rose.

 

“I… I don’t want to kill anybody!” Uraraka cried after a moment. 

 

“You have to,” Kirishima pointed out. “Or you have to drink.”

 

Uraraka eyed up the drink nervously. There was froth bubbling at the top. 

 

“I’d… Marry Asui…” she replied tentatively. 

 

“Go one!” Kirishima grinned, the room silent. 

 

“Kill… All Might?” 

 

“No way!!!” Kaminari cried excitedly. “You’d kill the former number one hero!”

 

“No!” Uraraka cried quickly. “I don’t want to kill anyone!” 

 

“But still,” Kirishima added. “You would.”

 

“Of course she would,” Todoroki piped up. “She wouldn’t kill Midoryia.”

 

“Oh yeah. She’d snog him.” Kaminari laughed.

 

“I would not!” Uraraka yelled, his voice threatening to break on the last syllable.

 

He turned to catch a look of Midoryia’s bright red face before promptly shoving her head on the table.

 

“Ha! Next!” Kirishima grinned. 

 

Next ended up being Yaoyorozu. 

 

“Truth!” Sero had called as soon as she’d succumbed to her fate. 

 

“Do you actually like listening to Death?” Jiro asked before anyone had a chance to think. The question seemed to take Yaoyorozu off guard slightly as she turned to her best friend, confused. 

 

“What do you mean?” she asked, clutching her green tea a little closer to her. 

 

“Well you always listen to it with me and that’s cool but I always think that you’re bored, I don’t know,” Jiro replied. “Then I brought you that march t-shirt and you haven’t worn it yet. Like once.”

 

“I have!” Yaoyorozu protested, the rest of the room shifting slightly to watch. 

 

“As a pyjama top maybe,” Jiro retorted. “So. Truth. Do you like them or not?”

 

“I… I… Why does it matter?” 

 

“Even if you drink, we all know what the answer is,” Bakugou piped up, sighing. “You don’t like Death. No one likes Death. Death is shit.”

 

“I knew it,” Jiro muttered. 

 

“Wait! Bakugou!” Yaouyorozu cried, damage done. 

 

“I don’t mind them,” Midoryia spoke up, lifting his head slightly. “I like that one song about them dying in a death something-“

 

“Dying in a Death Pit!” Jiro interrupted. “You like that song?”

 

“Yeah I guess?” Midoryia replied. 

 

“Moving on!’ Sero yelled. 

 

“Can we add dares to this thing?”  Bakugou asked. 

 

“You getting into it?” Tokoyami asked with a smirk.

 

“No. I’m bored,” Bakugou retorted.

 

—

 

“Twenty-one,” Midoryia spoke softy, two rounds later.

 

“Want a truth?” Ashido asked, eyebrows rising and falling suggestively. 

 

“No, no!” Midoryia replied quickly, glancing up at  Uraraka who was still a shade redder than he was. “I’ll do dare.”

 

“Finally!” Bakugou cried. 

 

“I thought we said no dares!” Kirishima winced.

 

“What could go wrong?” Ashido grinned, whispering in Jiro’s ear. 

 

“Wait! I have one!” Mineta grinned, climbing on top of his chair so he could also whisper in the girls ears. 

 

“Yes! Perfect!” Ashido smiled, the three turning to the girl. 

 

“Midoryia, sit on Uraraka’s lap,” Jiro announced as Ashido began to open her mouth. 

 

“Don’t just say it!” Ashido cried. “You’ve got to add suspense.”

 

“That’s crap,” Kaminari jeered. “You guys could have gotten them to kiss.”

 

“Yes! Do that!” Kirishima laughed. 

 

“Or get him to kiss Bakugou,” Yaoyorozu grinned shyly. 

 

“I’d rather kiss Uraraka!” Midoryia blurted out before catching himself. “I mean I… I…” 

 

“It’s that or drinking,” Tokoyami shrugged.”

 

“Those are the rules,” Iida agreed. “Not that I agree with this game in the first place.”

 

“Guys!” Midoryia moaned but Ashido had already approached them, ushering Midoryia out of his seat and turning Uraraka to face him with a knowing smile.

 

“A-are you sure you’re okay with this?” Midoryia muttered, looking across at his best friend. 

 

“I don’t want you to have to drink… that,” Uraraka replied, nodding her head towards the table. 

 

“Thank you…” 

 

“It’s okay,” Uraraka smiled, tucking the ends of her hair out of her face. “I just-“

 

“Get on with it!” Bakugou yelled at them.

 

“I’ll close my eyes if you do..?” Midoryia asked, twisting his hands around one another. 

 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

 

The pair closed their eyes, Midoryia reaching out so he had Uraraka’s cheek in his hand. He leant forward, closing in on her gently before his nerves got the better of him, pushing forward quickly and instead of kissing her, smashing his nose straight into hers. 

 

“Oh!”

 

“OW!” 

 

“Jeez really?” Kirishima cried as the two bounced off each other and straight into the table.

 

“You two are bad at kissing,” Mineta commented airily. “I could show you how.”

 

“No. It’s fine!” Uraraka squeaked as Midoryia grabbed her by the shoulders pulling in and pecking her on the cheek. 

 

“OOOHHHHH HE DID IT!” Sero cried. 

 

“Wait! What! I missed it!” Kaminari whined. 

 

“URARAKA!” Ashido screeched. “Finally!”

 

“Stop!” Uraraka hissed, smiling all the same. 

 

“There!” Midoryia stated, sitting down. “One.”

 

“Good enough!” Tokoyami stated. “Two, three.”

 

“Four, five, six.”

 

“Seven, eight, nine.”

 

“Ten, eleven, twelve.”

 

“Thirteen, fourteen, fiveteen.”

 

“Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen.”

 

“Nineteen.”

 

“Twenty…”

 

“Twenty-one,” Bakugou sighed, two rounds later. “Fuck you all.”

 

“Truth or dare then?” Kirishima cried excitedly. 

 

“Dare.”

 

“I have one,” Tokoyami announced after a second. 

 

“You’ve been planning this, haven’t you? Bird-brain,” Bakugou snarled. 

 

“Naturally.”

 

“What is it?” Jiro asked.

 

“I dare you… To dye your hair with Kirishima’s red hair dye.”

 

There was a collective silence, before;

 

“OH. MY. GOD. YES.” 

 

“Please, please, please.”

 

“Tokoyami you legend!”

 

“No.”

 

Baukugou was fully sat up now, the colour drained from his face.

 

“Fuck off. You can all fuck off.”

 

“Drink then,” Tokoyami replied, pointing towards the glass. 

 

Bakugou paused for a moment, looking around the room, before reaching across the table. 

 

“He’s fucking going to do it!” Kaminari cried, the group leaning over as Bakugou snatched the glass. It bubbled.

 

Iida’s frown intensified. 

 

“Bakugou, be careful,” he warned as the explosive boy lifted the glass to his lips. 

 

“Wait wait! I want to film it!” Kaminari cried. 

 

“Me too!” Jiro laughed, pulling out her phone. 

 

Bakugou snarled but lowered the glass, using it as an excuse to wait a moment as his friends positioned themselves for the perfect angle. 

 

Bakugou also positioned himself, twisting his chair towards the sink. 

 

“Ready!” Sero grinned, Jiro nodding. Koda and Yaoyorozu were too busy covering each others eyes. 

 

“Sure?” Bakugou hissed. 

 

“Yep! Whenever you’re ready!” Sero replied. 

 

Bakugou braced himself, lifting his arm back up slightly. The putrid yellow liquid swirling in the cup. 

 

“I’ve never seen you look so nervous Kacchan…” Midoryia commented. 

 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou snapped. “Give me a countdown or something then.”

 

“Five!” Ashido cried, the group joining in. 

 

“Four!”

 

“Three!”

 

“Two!” 

 

“One!” 

 

Bakugou took a breath and pinched his nose, the tip of the glass on his lips. He tipped the glass every so slowly, the thick liquid running closer and closer to his mouth. 

 

Then he swallowed. And bolted from his seat. 

 

“OH MY GOD HE DID IT!” Ashido screamed. 

 

“He did not,” Yaoyorozu winced, her eyes sill firmly shut.

 

“Bakugou you legend!” Sero cried as Bakugou himself, retched over the sink. 

 

“Brooooooo!” Kirishima called. “Are you okay..?”

 

“Ohhhh he’s proper throwing up!” Sero laughed. 

 

“I don’t think it counts if you throw it up,” Tokoyami commented as Kirishima hopped up from his place to check on Bakugou. 

 

“That was the worst dare ever,” Uraraka grimaced. 

 

“I don’t think it counts if you throw it up either,” Midoryia stated, eyes narrowed but smile wide. 

 

“Fucking fine.”

 

Bakugou rose from where he was hunched over the sink, twisting around his face ashen. 

 

“Kirishima, get the fucking hair dye.” 

Chapter 43: The Class 1B Sleepover

Summary:

“There’s been an incident…” Vlad started, addressing 1B. “In Class 1A’s dorm room. Everyone’s fine, but their dorm room is inhabitable, for this evening at least.”

“HAHA! What are they going to do now!” Monoma cried. “Sleep in the gym?!”

“No,” Kan’s firm tone cut the teenager off. “They’ll be staying here for the night.”

*RIP Monoma*

Notes:

Eh-up lads.

So I'm going to Japan for the Christmas and New Year and the MHA movie is coming out December 20th and I am SO PUMPED BECAUSE I'M TOTALLY GUNNA SEE THAT SHIT IN TOKYO BOI !!!!

I had such fun writing this chapter! Class 1B was a challenge to get my head around but now it's like I've adopted 20 more kids lol. I really went into detail on their friendship groups and likes and personalities so I hope it pays off!

I'll include the link to the 1B wiki here though just in case you like having a face to a name kinda thing. But yeah! I hope you all have amazing Fridays!

https://bokunoheroacademia.fandom.com/wiki/Class_1-B

“Erasurehead?”

 

Kan answered the call quickly, getting up from 1B’s dining table and exiting the room. A few students looked his way but made no attempt to stop what they were doing. At this point, they were used to the 1A teacher calling. 

 

“Anyone want some more rice?” Kodai asked, reaching across the table, Kamakiri getting there first. 

 

“I’ll do it. Last time your quirk shrunk the whole thing down to the size of a cup,” he explained. 

 

“The whole scenario was vexatious,” Yanagi commented, holding out her bowl. 

 

“That means it was annoying,” Shoda offered. 

 

“I know that,” Kodai pouted.

 

“It sure was funny though!” Tokage grinned. “Hey what do we think Erasure wants this time?”

 

“Probably something to do with 1A being idiots,” Monoma replied airily. 

 

“I haven’t heard an explosion,” Fukidashi quoted, the speech bubble on the top of his head growing in size. 

 

“Ha. True.” Komori smiled. 

 

“I’m sure everything’s fine,” Kendo reasoned, getting up slightly. “Also. Kamakiri, stop it. You’re spilling rice all over the table. You’re worse than Kodai.”

 

“Oh… shit sorry,” Kamakiri replied.

 

“It was one time Kendo!” Kodai cried. 

 

“There’s rice in my tea!”

 

A cough interrupted their conversations, Kan walking back into the room a withered expression on his face. 

 

“There’s been an incident…” he started. “In Class 1A’s dorm room.”

 

“Is everyone okay?” Kendo asked quickly.

 

“Ha! Knew it! Idiots!” Monoma added, receiving a swift slap in reply. 

 

“Everyone’s fine,” Kan reassured them. “But their dorm room is inhabitable, for this evening at least.”

 

“HAHA! What are they going to do now!” Monoma cried. “Sleep in the gym?!”

 

“No,” Kan’s firm tone cut the teenager off. “They’ll be staying here for the night.”

 

— 

 

“Sleepover! Sleepover!” 

 

Kirishima was practically skipping across the campus to 1B’s dorm room, seemingly the only one excited about the prospect. 

 

The rest of 1A traipsed behind him. 

 

“I hate sleepovers. Je’detest. Bleh, bleugh,” Aoyama was stating in response.

 

“Why do you hate them so much?” Midoryia asked, yawning. He was already in pyjamas, having opted for an early night after training. 

 

“I sleep talk,” Aoyama replied. 

 

“Oh right, yeah.”

 

“Don’t you remember?” Kaminari grinned, coming up beside the two. “At the training camp?” 

 

“Oh yeah, something about cheese…” Midoryia replied. 

 

“Well, it is meant to give you nightmares..!” Kaminari joked, his pun meeting narrowed stares. “Okayyyy tough crowd.” 

 

“Listen up!” Aizawa called, stopping the class from the front of the group. They turned, forming a crowd around him, Kirishima still bouncing up and down with excitement. “When we get in there you are to be respectful. You will be assigned a roommate and you are not to argue. Bakugou are you listening to me?”

 

Bakugou looked up from where he was stood, flicking a headphone out of one ear.

 

“Yes.”

 

Aizawa sighed. 

 

“Let’s get this over with.”

 

“Are you excited?” Uraraka asked, coming up to join Midoryia as the class walked into the unfamiliar dorm. 

 

“I am. I’m just tired,” he replied with a smile. “You?”

 

“Yeah! I can’t wait to spend some more time with them. I want to chat to Pony more and find out about America! And Kendo seems really cool as well!” Uraraka chatted excitedly as they climbed the stairs. 

 

“I wonder if her experience of America is the same as All Might's!” Midoryia grinned, his eyes shining once more. “And Rin! He’s from China! Even if it was only when he was little…”

 

“It’s unconventional but I am seeing this as a bonding exercise,” Iida commented from behind them. 

 

“I’m not,” Aoyama interrupted. “It’s more like hell.” 

 

As the group reached the top of the stairs, they were surprised to see Kendo already there, Vlad King beside her and towering above. 

 

“Erasure.”

 

“Vlad.”

 

“Welcome Class 1A,” Kan looked down at the group stiffly. “I’m sorry it’s such short notice but we hope you enjoy your time here.” 

 

“There’s fewer boys in our class than yours,” Kendo spoke up warmly. “So we’ve started to convert our common area into a sleeping space as well, just in case you’d rather sleep with your own classmates.”

 

“My prayers have been answered,” Aoyama whispered causing Midoryia and Kaminari to grin beside him. 

 

“Have you guys eaten?” Kendo continued. 

 

“They have,” Aizawa replied for them, looking down at his phone. 

 

“Okay! Well, we have snacks and tea so just ask if you need anything! Otherwise, make yourselves at home!” 

 

Kendo extended an arm into the dorms, Kirishima running on ahead before anyone could stop him. 

 

There was a split second before. 

 

“BRO!”

 

“BRO!” 

 

“Fucking brilliant,” Bakugou snapped, replacing his headphone. 

 

“Someone’s jealous,” Asui commented as the class walked into 1B’s common area. 

 

“Be good!” Aizawa called behind them, turning back to Kan. “I have to go check up on-“

 

“It’s fine,” Kan replied. “They’ll be fine.”

 

“You have my number,” Aizawa called back to him before turning and leaving down the stairs. 

 

‘Yeah Kan would be fine,’ he muttered to himself. 

 

It was only forty kids.

 

—

 

“Well, well, well! What do we have here! The entirety of 1A!” Monoma cheered as 1B’s common room filled with 1A’s class. 

 

“Count again,” Bakugou muttered, pushing past him. 

 

“What?! Oh! Where’s Endeavor’s son?” Monoma replied, his eyes scanning the room momentarily. Bakugou didn’t listen though, he was already stalking off with Awase in Kendo’s direction. 

 

“He had a nightmare,” Sero replied as he walked past him, Ashido piggybacking. 

 

“And?” Monoma asked, scoffing slightly as he followed them. 

 

“Dude, did you not hear the fire alarm?” Sero asked with a laugh. 

 

—

 

“I’m not sharing with him.” 

 

“I don’t know what to say Awase!” Kendo replied brightly. “We drew names out of a hat and you got Bakugou! Sorry!”

 

“If it helps I don’t want to share with you either,” Bakugou replied. 

 

“Well just stay in the common area with Aoyama!” Awase replied bitterly. 

 

“No that’s worse. He sleep talks about cheese.”

 

“See!” Kendo grinned. “You’re the lesser of two evils Awase and that is a compliment!”

 

Awase ground his teeth together, his fist curling into a ball as Kendo patted him on the back, moving away to chat to Yaoyorozu. 

 

“Touch any of my shit and I’ll weld you to the floor,” he hissed. 

 

“Annoy me and I’ll blast you into next week,” Bakugou replied. 

 

“Hey! Looks like you two are getting along!” Kirishima called, bounding up to the two, Tetsutetsu in tow. 

 

“Yeah. Famously,” Awase replied, walking away. 

 

“Want to see something cool?” Kirishima continued brightly, grinning towards Testutestu. 

 

“Sure. Whatever.” 

 

“WE CAN MAKE SPARKS!” Tetsutetsu yelled, activating his quirk and raising his arm. Kirishima did the same, the two clashing their forearms together and running them up and down. It took a few seconds but eventually, a few sparks started erupting from their arms. 

 

“That’s nothing,” Bakugou scoffed lightly, raising his palm, quirk activating. 

 

“NO QUIRKS IN DORMS!” Kan boomed over the racket. “KIRISHIMA, TETSUTETSU, BAKUGOU!”

 

The boys stopped in their track turning towards the homeroom teacher. 

 

“Sorry Vlad-Sensei!” Kirishima and Testutestu called. “Oh! Jinx! JINX AGAIN!”

 

Bakugou scoffed and plugged his headphone back in, stalking off. 

 

“Iida, Kendo, control your classes,” Kan commanded, the two class reps bowing in reply. 

 

“Yes Vlad-Sensei,” Iida replied. 

 

“How are we expected to do that though?” Kendo asked with a sigh, looking around at the overcrowded dorm rooms. 

 

“Most of the empty space is taken up by luggage,” Iida reasoned. 

 

“Good point, let’s get everyone settled in rooms, then..? We can make drinks and tell stories? Pony makes an amazing hot chocolate,” Kendo replied. 

 

“Sounds effective!” Iida smiled, Kendo laughing slightly. 

 

“Good! Let’s do it!”

 

“Is this the appropriate time to say ‘plus ultra’?” Iida asked. 

 

“Hell yeah!” Kendo grinned 

 

“Plus Ultra!”

 

The two looked across the room. 

 

“How are we going to get everyone attention..?” Iida asked nervously. 

 

“Err… Fukidashi!” Kendo called across the room. 

 

The boy turned, his speech bubble sporting a question mark.

 

“We need your quirk!”

 

— 

 

“I love your room Komori,” Asui smiled as she unpacked her sleeping bag on the floor of the girl's room. 

 

Komori’s room was covered in foliage, fake and real, dark greens and pinks covering the walls. There were crystals lining the shelves and a dreamcatcher hanging just above the bed.

 

She smiled slightly, brushing her fringe out of her eyes slightly for it to flop over her eyes once more. 

 

“Thank you,” she replied. “Is it warm enough? I have plants and fish so the temperature stays pretty consistent.”

 

“It’s perfect,” Ashi beamed. “And humid as well!”

 

“My quirk,” Komori explained. “Mushrooms need the humidity.”

 

“Cool!”

 

“Did you want to try one..?”

 

Asui looked up from where she was unpacking her toothbrush to see Komori’s grin. 

 

“Try..? Your mushrooms?” she asked curiously. “Are they edible?”

 

“Yeah!” Komori replied with a smile. She unfolded one hand, a mushroom popping up on her palm. “Do it and then we can read palms!”

 

“Read palms?”

 

“Yeah! With crystals!” 

 

“Okay… ribbit.”

 

A knock a the door interrupted the two, Komori turning her head slightly. 

 

“Come in!” she called brightly, the door creaking open a tad to reveal Tokoyami. 

 

“Hey…” he greeted the two awkwardly. “Can I come in..?”

 

“Yeah!” Komori beamed, Tokoyami inviting himself into the room and looking around in awe. 

 

“I really like your room Komori,” he smiled as Komori straightened the bedcovers, offering the boy a seat. 

 

“It’s cool isn’t it!” Asui smiled. “How’s sharing with Kuroiro?” 

 

“Surprisingly colourful,” Tokoyami replied. 

 

“Oh right, yeah you wouldn’t think it would you!” Komori replied. “If it was black though he would constantly be morphing into the bed or something!”

 

“I guess so,” Tokoyami shrugged. “He talked about you a lot.” 

 

“He did?” Kormori replied with a grin. “Yeah, I think he has a crush on me or something.”

 

“Really!” Asui spoke up, stopping from where she was folding up a t-shirt. “I don’t think anyone has a crush in 1A… Oh, wait.”

 

“Uraraka,” Tokoyami reminded her.

 

“Yeah, I forgot,” Asui replied. 

 

“Oh! Who does she fancy?” Kormori asked with a grin. 

 

“Midoryia,” the pair replied in unison. 

 

“Aw, cute!” Kormori giggled. 

 

“How about you?” Tokoyami asked awkwardly, shuffling slightly in his place. 

 

“What about me?” Kormori replied with a smile. 

 

“Do you… fancy Kuroiro?”  he asked. 

 

“Oh!”

 

Kormori went red for a moment, Tokoyami waiting until she was looking the other way before glancing up at her. Asui looked on, her eyes narrowed with a small smile. 

 

“I haven’t really given it much thought,” Kormori replied, fiddling with the bedsheets. “Dating that it. I don’t fancy him back… no.”

 

“Oh. Right,” Tokoyami replied, relaxing slightly. 

 

There was a moment's pause before. 

 

“Want a mushroom?”

 

—

 

“Can I make hot chocolate with you?’ Uraraka asked brightly, coming up besides Pony and Yaoyorozu as they were grabbing mugs from the cupboard. 

 

“Yes!” Pony replied cheerfully, her native accent making the ‘yes’ sound more like ‘yis’. 

 

“I’m making tea as well,” Yaoyorozu added. “Just in case people want it.”

 

“That’s a good idea,” Uraraka smiled as Kendo came up behind them. 

 

“I’ve knocked on everyone’s door,” she stated. “Most want hot chocolate so I’d make a big batch. I think they’re all coming down. Couldn’t find Bakugou though.” 

 

“Oh! He’s just over there!” Yaouyorozu pointed, motioning towards the sofa. A Bakugou shaped lump was just about visible from the top of cushions. 

 

“Oh okay! I guess sharing with Awase is a pain!” Kendo replied cheerfully. 

 

“Where should we sit?” Iida called from the entrance of the common area. A group of the boys from both 1A and 1B were behind him. 

 

“There’s not enough seats so grab some cushions as well!” Kendo called out to them as the space filled up again. 

 

“We need milk!” Pony announced. Uraraka clapped her hands together and walked towards the fridge. 

 

“How much?”

 

“Just grab it all,” Tsuburaba called from the table where he was seated next to Kaminari and Shiozaki playing some sort of card game. “I don’t think anyone drinks tea here and Vlad doesn’t have milk with his coffee.”

 

“He should quit the caffeine for a balanced mind and soul,” Shiozaki stated, placing down a card. 

 

“Yeah!” Kaminari cheered. 

 

“Do you even know what that means?” Uraraka asked with a laugh as she used her quirk to transport the milk from the fridge to the counter. 

 

“Shut up Uraraka!” came the hissed reply.

 

“Oh sorry! I shouldn’t be using my quirk,” Uraraka cried as the milk came to a wobbling crash on the side. 

 

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure that Vlad is doing work in his office,” Tsuburaba commented. 

 

“I like your quirk,” Pony smiled, Uraraka’s face turning red. 

 

“It’s cool isn’t it!” Midoryia called, coming into the common area, Shoda following behind. 

 

“Hey Deku!” Uraraka smiled. 

 

“Hey! Can I help with-

 

“BRO THAT’S TOTALLY MENTAL!”

 

“FAMMM. NO. WAY!”

 

“Here comes the famous duo…” Tokage grinned as she entered, Kirishima and Testutestu pushing past her with a frightening amount of energy. 

 

“GUESS WHAT!” they cheered, palms slamming down on the table. 

 

“My zen is disturbed,” Shiozaki stated. 

 

“Close! But no!” Tetsutetsu replied. 

 

“How quotidian,” Yanagi sighed, Shoda turning from the counter.

 

“That means err… like boring? Or tiresome.”

 

“Guys!” Tetsutetsu whined. 

 

“Go on then!” Tokage cried “What?”

 

“We have the SAME ROOM!” Testutetsu replied excitedly. 

 

“Like in the two building, our room is the same room on the same floor!” Kirishima explained. “I have to tell Bakugou!”

 

“He’s on the sofa,” Kendo offered, the rest of the classes not really taking particular interest in the matter. 

 

“Do we have another saucepan?” Uraraka asked Pony as she delved into a cupboard. 

 

“Will this one do?” she asked, holding a pan up above her head and nearly taking Shoda out in the process “Oh! Sorry!”

 

“It’s okay!”

 

“There’s too many people in here,” Tokoyami announced as he walked into the room with Asui, Kuroiro and Kormori following. 

 

“You can say that again,” Kormori replied, blowing her fringe out of her eyes. 

 

“I am trying to get everyone organised!” Iida called from the centre of the room. 

 

“Sorry Iida! I’ll help!” Kendo replied, running around into the living area. 

 

“How long until hot chocolate?” Sero asked, popping up from behind the counter. 

 

“Hmm fifty minutes,” Pony replied, getting some questioning looks off of Sero and Uraraka in response. “Oh wait… fifteen.”

 

“It’s okay!” Sero smiled. “They sound really similar.”

 

“What’s it like knowing two languages?” Midoryia asked as Sero skipped off, crashing into Ashido on the way. “Do you ever get them mixed up?” 

 

“No, not really,” Pony replied with a shrug. “But sometimes it’s hard not to speak in English when I don’t know the Japanese word.”

 

“You must be amazing at Present Mic’s class!” Uraraka laughed. 

 

“I have extra Japanese when they have English,” Pony explained as she snapped chocolate into the pan. 

 

“But she helps us all with our English after classes,” Shoda added. 

 

“Who’s the worst at English?” Uraraka grinned.

 

“Oh… I couldn’t say…” Pony replied shyly. 

 

“It’s Monoma,” Tokage stated with a laugh. 

 

“Is it?” Uraraka giggled. 

 

Pony looked around slightly before nodding, the girls grinning between them. 

 

“Did I hear someone calling my name?” a familiar voice called from the common room entrance. 

 

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Tokage scoffed. 

 

“Please don’t speak of the devil,” Shiozaki pleaded. 

 

“You live with the devil,” Kaminari laughed beside her.

 

“I’m not a devil!” Monoma cried. “Also, where’s your hot head?”

 

“Bakugou? By the sofa, why?” Kaminari asked, turning to where Bakugou was now sat up, surrounded by the surprisingly mellow Testutetsu and Kirishima. 

 

“I was just wondering. I don’t want our place going up in flames as well,” Monoma shrugged. 

 

“Don’t be so rude,” Awase snapped, clocking Monoma around the head as he entered the room. 

 

“Do you want to burn alive?” Monoma asked. 

 

“I want you to burn alive.”

 

“Everyone find a seat!” Kendo cried over the racket. “Please!”

 

“We should all sit with someone who we haven’t had the chance to get to know before!” Iida offered. 

 

“You’re the only one that hasn’t socialised with your roommate!” Kaminari cried in reply. 

 

“Oh, God! It’s true!” Iida gasped. 

 

“Man, it’s chill, I don’t mind,” Honenuki smiled. “We have all night.”

 

“Please don’t use God’s name in vain,” Shiozaki asked. “I don’t want you to go to hell.”

 

“With Monoma,” Kaminari added. 

 

“Sorry!”

 

“Sit down!” Iida yelled, the classes beginning to pull chairs and cushions in a circle. 

 

“Kaminari! Tetsutetsu! Up!” Kendo grinned coming over to the sofa’s where the boys were sitting next to Bakugou, taking up the majority of the space. 

 

“Hey Kendo hang on a second,” Tetsutetsu replied quietly. 

 

“Why? What’s up...” Kendo replied before trailing off. “...Bakugou?”

 

“He won’t tell us what’s wrong,” Kirishima groaned as Kendo knelt down in front of them. 

 

Bakugou was visibly shaking, a blanket haphazardly pulled around him. 

 

“Fuck off,” he hissed, trying to shove his headphones in. 

 

“Bro, stop it,” Kirishima interrupted, reaching out to grab his hand. Bakugou slapped it away, looking around. 

 

“Fuck. Off.”

 

“Look guys just keep the sofa,” Kendo offered. “I won’t mention anything Bakugou, just try and calm down. Is there anything else that would help?”

 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou repeated.

 

Kendo sighed, getting up. 

 

“Sure. I’m getting you all hot chocolate though. You don’t need to be shaking anymore.”

 

“Thank you!” Kirishima cheered after her. 

 

“What kind of teacher is Vlad King like?” Ashido asked Kodai as the rest of the class began to take their seats around the sofa. 

 

“He’s kind of stern?” she replied. “He has a soft side though. A bit like a dad.”

 

“Aizawa has a soft side as well!” Ashido replied happily. 

 

“He does?” Yanagi asked from the opposite side of the common area, balancing a mug of hot chocolate on her knee as she sat. 

 

“Yeah! He really likes cats and this one time we tied his hair up in a top knot!” Ashido replied.

 

“That was fun,” Hagakure commented, coming to sit beside Yanagi. 

 

“Where did you guys get hot chocolate from?” Ashido asked, craning her head to the kitchen area. 

 

“It’s coming!” Uraraka called. 

 

“I’ll give you some,” Kendo added. 

 

“Love you!” Kodai cried. 

 

“Love you more!” Kendo cried in reply. 

 

“We put eyeliner on Aizawa once,” Jiro mentioned, drawing the conversation back on topic. “For a concert.”

 

“No way!” Tokage laughed. “Hey, we should try that on Vlad-Sensei!”

 

“I can’t exactly imagine how we’d try and explain that one,” Kamakiri laughed. 

 

“Hot chocolate is here!” Kendo announced, carrying a tray into the centre of the common area. “Made by Pony-“

 

“And Uraraka!” Pony cheered as the two came to sit, alongside Midoryia and Shoda. 

 

“We’re here as well!” a familiar voice called from the entrance, the group turning to see Ojiro and Kaibara walk in. Both fitted out with gym wear. 

 

“Where have you been?” Hagakure asked as they found some spare cushions from behind one of the sofas. 

 

“We decided to do a bit of training after I settled my stuff into Kaibara’s room,” Ojiro replied. 

 

“We totally should have done that!” Tetsutetsu groaned to Kirishima. 

 

“Same here!” Midoryia chimed in. 

 

“Maybe we should ask Vlad and Aizawa-Sensei for a group training class?” Kodai offered. 

 

“That sounds like hell,” Monoma sighed lazily. 

 

“Shut up,” Tokage replied. 

 

“Yeah, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it Monoma, how many times!” Awase added. 

 

“And stop mentioning ‘hell’,” Kaminari pointed. 

 

“You’re just saying that because of Shiozaki,” Sero grinned. 

 

“And so what? I’m allowed to stand up for my friends!”

 

“We’re friends?” Shiozaki asked, so innocently that it caused the majority of the class to burst into laughter. 

 

“Err… yeah if you want,” Kaminari replied sheepishly. 

 

“I wasn’t being rude,” Monoma said indignantly, sipping on his mug of hot chocolate. “I’m just saying. I’d rather fight you all rather than simply train with you.”

 

“I understand that I guess,” Ojiro shrugged. “Although I found training was something different that’s all.”

 

“Each to their own,” Monoma replied. 

 

“Yep,” Ojiro agreed, distractedly. “Kirishima, Bakugou, do you have any more cushions on that sofa?”

 

“Oh… I don’t know,” Kirishima started awkwardly. 

 

“I can find some from somewhere,” Kendo offered quickly but it was too late. 

 

“Hey, Bakugou? Woah, what’s up?” Ojiro asked as he came closer to where the boys were sat. 

 

At once, the classes turned to where Bakugou was sitting to take a closer look at the boy. 

 

“Are you crying?” Ashido asked, hopping onto her knees to peer at her friend. 

 

Bakugou pulled his blanket over his face with a grunt, his hand popping back up to retrieve his headphones before vanishing from sight. 

 

“Just leave him alone,” Kendo called across to the room. 

 

“Is he alright though?” Iida asked earnestly. “Should we get Vlad-Sensei?”

 

“No, no, he’s fine,” Kendo replied. “Ojiro, I’ll find you something to sit on.”

 

“Thank you,” Ojiro smiled as Kendo left the room. 

 

There was a small silence as the classes reluctantly tried to ignore the Bakugou shaped mound on the sofa. 

 

“It’s because of the fire isn’t it?” Tokoyami finally asked.

 

“What do you mean?” Midoryia asked, the concern still lacing his tone, body twisted slightly towards the sofa. 

 

“Well it was Bakugou’s room that was set on fire as well wasn’t it?” Tokoyami reminded him. 

 

“What exactly happened?” Rin asked. 

 

“What? With Todoroki?” Ashido replied. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You said he had a nightmare,” Monoma said. “Did he lose control of his hybrid quirk?”

 

“Basically,” Ojiro replied, ignoring Monoma’s offhand comment. “It happens every so often but rarely with fire. The only other people in their rooms were Yaoyorozu and Bakugou.”

 

“Bakugou’s room is directly below,” Kirishima added. “And on the fourth floor.”

 

“When it set on fire, he couldn’t get out,” Tokoyami said. “It was a good thing Sero and Sato weren’t in their rooms. They’re next door so they’re basically burnt out as well”

 

“How did everyone get out?” Pony asked, the room falling into silence as Class 1A explained. 

 

“My room’s in the opposite corridor,” Yaoyorozu spoke up shyly. “I noticed first I think? So I made a hose pipe, managed to get most of the flames.”

 

“Todoroki did wake up,” Ashido interrupted. “He iced the rest. He was exhausted though.”

 

“That’s why he’s in the infirmary,” Monoma said, piecing two and two together. “I heard Aizawa on the phone.”

 

“Wow, that must have been really scary…” Komori whispered. 

 

“Macabre,” Yanagi agreed. 

 

“Especially for somebody who’s been taken by the league before,” Monoma added. 

 

“What do you mean?” Jiro asked indignantly. 

 

“I’m just saying. Todoroki’s quirk looks a lot like Dabi’s,” Monoma shrugged. 

 

“Fuck off Monoma,” Tokoyami snapped. 

 

“Just stop it,” Awase warned. 

 

“But it’s true,” Monoma replied. 

 

“Seriously? I’ll throw my cup at you,” Tokage hissed. 

 

“Sorry,” Monoma replied, rolling his eyes.

 

Silence fell across the room once more as Kendo walked back in, blankets under her arm. 

 

“Everyone okay?” she asked with a small smile. “I thought these would do Ojiro.”

 

“Oh, perfect thank you!” Ojiro smiled, taking the blankets from Kendo and arranging them on the floor beside Hagakure and Kaibara. 

 

“No problem, want to watch something on TV?” Kendo offered. 

 

“I think a movie would suffice!” Iida agreed. 

 

“Oh yeah!” Uraraka cheered. “What do you have?” 

 

“I’ll find some good ones,” Kendo replied. 

 

“I’ll help,” Kodai offered, jumping up. 

 

“Movie!” Kirishima said, nudging the blanket covered Bakugou. “How about it.”

 

The blankets grunted. 

 

“I’m surprised you can breathe under there,” Kendo commented, striding up to the sofa and lifting the blanket from Bakugou’s head, ruffling his hair. 

 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou snapped, one headphone falling out of his ear. 

 

“No. Your hot chocolate will go cold,” Kendo replied, motioning to the tray in the centre of the room. “Yours too, Ojiro, Kaibara.”

 

“Oh, those are ours?” Kaibara asked. “Thank you!”

 

“Now I know how to make hot chocolate as well!” Uraraka beamed. “I can make it back at our dorms!”

 

“It won’t be as good as ours,” Monoma grinned. 

 

“Thank you!” Pony smiled at the compliment. 

 

“I think Pony is the only that Monoma truly likes,” Yanagi whispered. 

 

“It’s true,” Monoma replied. 

 

“Hot chocolate?” Kirishima asked Bakugou, picking up the mug and pushing it in his best friends direction. 

 

“It will help with the shock,” Kendo smiled. 

 

“Shock?” Bakugou growled. 

 

“I’m not trying to offend you!” Kendo laughed. “You’re room got set on fire!”

 

“How did you know?” 

 

“I asked Vlad,” Kendo replied honestly. “Drink up!” 

 

“Let’s go get movies!” Kodai grinned, grabbing Kendo’s hands and dragging her out of the room. 

 

“You have a chocolate moustache Deku!” Uraraka grinned, pointed. 

 

“Oh!”

 

“No, wait! Let me take a picture!” Ashido giggled, reaching into her pocket. 

 

“What’s that?” Shoda asked as Ashido brought out her camera. 

 

“Oh, it's a Polaroid!” Ashido replied. 

 

“She’s obsessed with it,” Bakugou commented gruffly. “It’s fucking annoying.” 

 

“You love having polaroids of you stuck around my room!” Ashido grinned. “Now it’s your turn Midoryia!”

 

“Ahhh okay!”

 

“Oh! Shoda get in as well! And Uraraka!” Ashido called. “Oh, Honenuki! Your legs are in the photo so just bend down and you can be in as well! A bit more..? And IIda!” 

 

There was the sound of a flash and a picture printed from the top of the camera. Ashido grabbed it with one hand and the group crowded around it to see the image develop. 

 

“Oh wow! That’s really cool!” Shoda smiled. 

 

“Have you idiots never seen a Polaroid before?” Monoma asked with a sigh. 

 

“Seriously, I’ll throw this cup so it breaks your nose,” Tokage warned. 

 

Bakugou snorted at that, Tokage throwing a grin his way. 

 

“Hey, we have movies!” Kodai called as the two girls came back into the room. “We should have a marathon!” 

 

“It is already eight thirty!” Iida reminded them. “We should still have a respectable bed time!” 

 

“Movie marathon!” Pony cheered, ignoring Iida. 

 

“We can always go to bed when we want,” Kendo smiled. “For now we should just enjoy one another company.”

 

“I can do palm readings!” Komori offered. 

 

“We could play games as well!” Sero cried. “Iida is a beast a MarioKart!”

 

“And Bakugou is the best at dares!” Kirishima grinned. “Last time he dyed his hair red!”

 

“Really?” Rin asked. “You’ll have to tell us that story.”

 

“Hell yeah!” Kirishima cried, the two classes falling into comfortable chatter for the rest of the night.

 

Even Bakugou. 

Notes:

Let me know if you liked 1B because I would like to write them again :)

Also thank u for 450 subs holyyyyyyyyy shit XD

Chapter 44: Muzzled

Summary:

“And finally, your winner of the first-year sports festival! Katsuki Bakugou!”

Metal.

Wrapped around Bakugous face, cascading in chains down his arms. Blocking his hands completely.

“They’ve restrained him..?” Aizawa hissed. Hizashi looked up, shrugging as Midnight continued the ceremony.

Nah, Aizawa wasn't going to stand for that.

Notes:

Thank you to Princess_Baek_x for suggesting this prompt of Bakugou being restrained at the festival and the aftermath of that! I hope this is okay!

I am defo going to get into the habit of crediting you guys who send me prompts, sorry I haven't being doing it so far xx

“Yooooooo! What. A. Final!” Hizashi cried into the microphone as the crowd expectantly hushed out in the stadium. 

 

Aizawa took his seat next to Hizashi from where he’d previously been pacing and instead took to fiddling with the loose bit of bandage between his left thumb and forefinger. 

 

It was the first year's sports festival. Bakugou and Todoroki had just fought. Midnight had just rendered them unconscious. 

 

Aizawa hadn’t been allowed to see his students since and now nearly twenty minutes had passed. 

 

Genuinely, he didn’t know how to feel about the fight between the two. Both Bakugou and Todoroki had fought badly, Bakugou letting his emotions drive any ounce of sense out of him and Todoroki backing down at the last minute, practically giving the fight away. 

 

It didn’t matter per se. Being a recommended student and son of a pro, Todoroki would automatically get internship offers, especially as he’d made it to the final rounds. 

 

Bakugou was in a slightly different position. But clearly, all that mattered for him was pride. 

 

Aizawa would have to knock that out of him as soon as possible. 

 

“Thank you for waiting!” Hizashi continued to cry to the audience. “Now, let's move onto the awards ceremonyyyyy!” 

 

There were ecstatic cheers from the crowds as Cermentos’s quirk raised three marked podiums from the ground. Third, second and first place.

 

“In third place, we have two students from the hero course! Fumikage Tokoyami and Tenya Iida!” Hizashi called. “Unfortunately, Iida was forced to leave early due to a family emergency but we hope you understand!” 

 

Tokoyami was raised in view of the audience, stoic as ever, his face appearing on all of the television screens The continued applause from the crowd started to rise in volume. Aizawa made a mental note to investigate what had gone on with Iida later.

 

“In second place we have, also from the hero course, Shoto Todoroki!” 

 

This time Aizawa craned his neck to see as Todoroki was being lifted into the air. He looked fine. More importantly, unharmed. Looking up at the crowd with a small frown as the crowd cheered at his arrival. Purposely avoiding looking in the direction of his father. 

 

“And finally, your winner of the first-year sports festival! Katsuki Bakugou!”

 

The cheers didn’t dampen, but the atmosphere of the stadium changed slightly as Bakugou was lifted into first position. Aizawa blinked rapidly, willing his bandaged eyes to focus just that bit better as Bakugou’s blonde hair came into view. 

 

As he blinked for the fourth time, he started to see the metal.

 

Wrapped around Bakugous face, cascading in chains down his arms. Blocking his hands completely. 

 

“They’ve restrained him..?” Aizawa hissed. Hizashi looked up, shrugging as Midnight continued the ceremony.

 

“AND NOW WE’LL AWARD THE MEDALS!” 

 

Hizashi flicked the mic off in the booth and stood up for a better view.

 

“Wow, they really went all out huh?” he commented as All Might entered the stadium, the crowd erupting and confetti blooming, interrupting their view. 

 

“That’s a bit unnecessary isn’t it?” Aizawa snarled, voice low, filled with venom. 

 

“Ah! Bakugou doesn’t seem to mind!” Hizashi smiled cheerfully, oblivious to Aizawa demeanour. 

 

“It’s not-”

 

But Aizawa didn’t bother finishing his sentence. It wasn’t worth it.

 

It was almost as if they wanted to give Bakugou a bad rep.

 

“I’m going,” Aizawa announced, taking off and leaving Hizashi at the commentary desk.

 

“Hey! Shota! Wait! I need you for the last bit! Shota!”

 

Aizawa ignored him, knowing that Hizashi couldn’t follow. 

 

--

 

Pacing down the stairs, he started to hear even louder cheers. Probably Yagi making a final speech or something equally as mind numbing. He didn’t have long though. Students were already filling up the corridors underneath the pitch.

 

Luckily they seemed to be somewhat scared off by Aizawa mummified appearance. At least the excessive bandages were working in his favour. The UA anthem taunted him, forcing him to move faster.

 

He couldn’t get the sight of Bakugou out of his head. Couldn’t believe his own memories. Couldn’t believe that someone would televise-

 

“What was that?!” he snarled, pushing past students from the other classes and making a beeline for where Tokoyami, Todoroki and Bakugou were being led out of the stadium, All Might behind them. 

 

Midnight looked up, confused, Cementos also turning from where he was stood. 

 

Cementos barely got a moments notice before Aizawa launched himself in the pro’s direction. 

 

“What did you think you were playing at?” he snapped, twisting to face his three winning students. Bakugou was in the centre, being pulled along by two members of staff. He was nuzzled once more, launching himself in whichever direction he could to try and free himself. “Un-cuff him.”

 

“Hold on Shota,” Nemuri started, ushering the majority of students away from the commotion and back to school grounds. “Let’s not make a scene,” 

 

“No. Let’s,” Aizawa growled. 

 

“I agree,” a voice boomed from the side of him.

 

Yagi passed Aizawa’s side, placing a muscular hand across one of Bakugou’s shoulders. Stopping the kid from moving. 

 

“I think Bakugou is capable of handling himself.” 

 

And with that, Yagi unclipped the side of Bakugou’s muzzle again, the teenager gasping and spitting onto the ground. 

 

“LET. ME. GO!” he snarled, his face screwed up, panting through his teeth. 

 

“Let him go,” Aizawa reiterated. 

 

“With respect, Erasurehead,” Cementos spoke up. “He’s out of control. A danger.”

 

“I’M NOT A DAMN DANGER. I COULD TAKE YOU. I COULD TAKE ANY OF YOU!”

 

“He just needs a good telling off,” Aizawa snarled. 

 

Bakugou looked up at that, the anger from his eyes subduing slightly. He stopped thrashing enough that Aizawa could just about make out the red lines from where the muzzle had begun to cut into his skin. 

 

Someone else needed a good telling off as well.

 

“All Might, you’ll help me take him to Recovery Girl won’t you?” Aizawa asked, watching as Yagi looked momentarily confused, before nodding. 

 

“I don’t need to go to her again,” Bakugou retorted, the volume in his voice coming down to a growl. 

 

“I don’t care,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Let him go,” Yagi insisted, looking over at Cementos, who sighed. 

 

The restraints were vanished in an instant, the load off of Bakugou's arms tipping him forward slightly. All Might nearly had to catch him but Bakugou caught his fall with one hand, pushing himself back up to standing and immediately inspecting his arms.

 

Aizawa could already see the bruises forming. 

 

“Are you alright my boy?” All Might asked instinctively, placing his hand back on the teenager's shoulder, Bakugou attempting to shrug it off. 

 

“Go away All Might,” he hissed. “I don’t need your damn pity.”

 

“Where’s Nezu?” Aizawa asked, addressing Nerumi and ignoring Bakugou.

 

“There was an incident at Hosu,” she replied steadily. 

 

Of course there was. 

 

Which reminded him. Iida. 

 

“I’m taking Bakugou,” Aizawa stated, trying to sort out priorities in his head.

 

“Okay,” Nerumi replied, the commotion of the students around them lessening as they either went back to their homerooms or collected their belongings from the stadium. 

 

“Oh. And if you see Hitoshi Shinsou. Tell him to come find me,” Aizawa added.

 

Bakugou raised his eyebrow at that but when no one else seemed to take much interested he went back to looking at the ground. Fidgeting with his hands.

 

“Right young Bakugou!” Yagi cried, a little too enthusiastically. “Recovery Girl!”

 

And with that, Yagi began to lead Bakugou away. Aizawa shot some nosey first-year business students a look, and followed.

 

All Might’s grip on the boy became weaker and weaker as the trio walked. Bakugou stayed silent. Too silent. Seething. In fact, by the time they had reached Recovery Girl’s temporary office, Yagi was practically guiding him. 

 

“I don’t have time!” she immediately called, when she saw Bakugou appearing in the doorframe.

 

The first aid office was still relatively full. Most of the injured students were sleeping but there was a few interns still running around with various bandages and equipment. Recovery Girl was sat in the middle, her lipstick nearly completely gone, looking even more exhausted than Aizawa felt. 

 

“That’s fine,” Aizawa replied, motioning for Bakugou to sit on one of the chairs. He reached up for a first aid kit with one bandaged hand, coaxing the handle around his wrist and dropping it next to the chair. “Pull up your sleeves,” he instructed his student. 

 

Bakugou huffed slightly, turning his head before complying. 

 

Luckily his arms seemed to be unscathed, his torso as well. 

 

“Just your neck then,” Aizawa confirmed, Yagi reaching across to open the first aid kit. 

 

Bakugou didn’t even flinch. This time he just let Yagi take him by the chin, twisting his head. 

 

The cuts on his neck weren’t deep, they were more scratches but bruises were already forming at the site. The antiseptic Yagi was applying was making Bakugou breath deeply, his eyes screwing up, hands flexing around his first-place medal. 

 

At one point Bakugou started pulling on the lanyard, twisting it around his fingers. Nose flared. 

 

“Give it here.”

 

Bakugou looked up at his homeroom teacher confused before looking down at the medal. There was a moment he clung onto it before he angrily pulled it away from his neck, shoving it in Aizawa’s bandaged palm. 

 

“You can have it back once you realise it’s worth,” Aizawa stated, tucking the piece of metal into his pocket. 

 

“Means fuck all,” Bakugou replied hoarsely. 

 

“Language.”

 

Bakugou clamped his mouth shut as Yagi applied antiseptic to a particularly cut up area of the boy’s neck.

 

“Fuck- ow!”

 

“Lan-“

 

“Sorry.”

 

“You should be proud of your achievements young Bakugou,” Yagi stated as he threw away the wipes, shutting the first aid box with a click. “You worked hard today.”

 

Bakugou simply pouted in reply. As exhausted as he looked, Aizawa could see in his eyes that he was itching for something. Some other way of proving himself. 

 

In all honesty, Bakugou looked embarrassed. 

 

“You’ll have other chances to prove yourself,” Yagi continued, standing. 

 

“And you can start with showing a little gratitude,” Aizawa reprimanded. 

 

Bakugou sighed but he did stand, bowing in Yagi’s direction. 

 

“…Thank you.”

 

“Oh, it’s no problem my boy!” Yagi cried, ruffling Bakugou on the head like some sort of fluffy Pomeranian. “You keep on working hard!” 

 

Bakugou nodded slightly as Yagi smiled at Aizawa, turning to replace the medical kit. 

 

“Thank you,” Aizawa said as passed. 

 

“We’ll talk later,” Yagi replied seriously, before walking over to where Recovery Girl was picking debris out of a student heel. 

 

Probably offering some ‘All Might’ support to those who didn’t make it anywhere near the final. Aizawa didn’t know how he kept up.

 

Bakugou seemingly took it as his cue to leave as well, flexing his arms slightly before turning towards the door. 

 

“Bakugou.”

 

Aizawa’s voice stopped him in his tracks and the teenager even had the decency to turn to face his homeroom teacher. Albeit halfheartedly. 

 

“If I was to file an incident report about the use of restraints on the final ceremony, would you be okay with that?”

 

“Why?” 

 

This time it was Aizawa’s turn to sigh, walking up to his student and lifting his head with one bandaged hand. Inspecting the cuts for himself. 

 

“This. Isn’t acceptable,” he replied honestly. Bakugou shrugged his chest puffing out as if to overcompensate for the fact that his eyes had started to glaze with fatigue.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

Aizawa didn’t try and stop him as he turned and walked out of the door.

 

—

 

Three days later and he found himself outside Nezu’s door waiting for Yagi with some relief that he was actually coming to this meeting. 

 

He hadn’t really ever expected to be on Yagi Toshinori’s side when it came to teaching.

 

Not that he disliked the man. He disliked his teaching style but that was old news. Yagi clearly favoured students, showed emotional bias, didn’t think out lesson plans correctly…

 

The list could go on.

 

He was going to be late. But still. Aizawa had planned for that. 

 

He paused before knocking on the door of Nezu’s office. It almost felt like knocking on a headmasters office- well it was. The whole experience reminded him of when he was a student at UA. 

 

It was weird going into an office as a colleague rather than a student. And that feeling never went away. 

 

He knocked, not hearing anything on the other side of the door. 

 

“That took you nearly a minute,” a voice cheered from behind him. 

 

“Jesus- Nezu! How long have you been there?!” Aizawa hissed, jumping out of his skin as he turned to see Nezu standing just behind him, a stack of papers tucked under one arm. 

 

“Long enough!” he sung, reaching past Aizawa to open the door. “Come on in.” 

 

Aizawa sighed and followed his boss into the office, grabbing the seat motioned to him and sitting down heavily.

 

It had been a long day. 

 

“What did you want to see me for?” Nezu asked brightly, packing files into the desk drawer beneath him.

 

If he’d noticed the lack of Aizawa’s posture then he hadn’t said anything. 

 

“Two things,” Aizawa replied, sitting up slightly. “One is a request, another a formal complaint.”

 

“A complaint?” Nezu asked, surprised. “Well, I hope I can help you out with both. Your request first?”

 

“I’d like the opportunity to train one of the students from general studies up for transfer,” Aizawa began, watching as Nezu’s expression twisted into a small smile. 

 

“I fully expect that you have a student in mind,” he replied. 

 

“Hitoshi Shinsou?” Aizawa replied, watching as Nezu nodded enthusiastically. 

 

“A bright young student, if not a bit too closed off. I assume you took interest in him after his fight with Midoryia?”

 

“Yes. I know he wants to become a hero and I think, after looking back at the entrance exam footage, that he was severally mistreated,” Aizawa stated. 

 

“You mean to say the exam was less suited for his quirk?” Nezu replied.

 

“I think the whole exam should be changed,” Aizawa confirmed, his brow furrowing. Nezu shrugged slightly. 

 

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” he mused. “Shinsou’s physical abilities are less than acceptable, regardless.”

 

“I know,” Aizawa replied. “Let me train him.”

 

“You have my permission,” Nezu replied with a grin. “If you have a training schedule, then I would want to take a look, then I’ll contact his parents. You know you’ll have to get him ready for a second entrance exam before the end of the academic year as well as a full talk and presentation to present to the board.”

 

“I know,” Aizawa nodded, reaching into his back pocket. “I have a training plan devised already.”

 

“You went through the same process,” Nezu remarked. “I think it’ll be a wonderful opportunity for you both.”

 

Aizawa nodded curtly, pulling out his rough training plan and straightening it out with one hand. 

 

“Sorry it’s so creased,” he muttered, handing it over. Nezu shook his head lightly. 

 

“It’s only a training plan,” he replied, scanning through it. “I’ll have a review of it and send you an email. Can you type it up?” 

 

“Yes,” Aizawa nodded. 

 

“Good, good!” Nezu smiled, holding up the piece of paper. “Well, just from looking at this, I approve your request.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Now, your complaint?”

 

Nezu placed the training plan to one side, signifying the end of the conversation. He leant forward in his chair, beady eyes staring up into Aizawa’s. 

 

It was unnerving.

 

“It’s about the sports festival,” Aizawa began, Nezu’s eyebrows rising in surprise.

 

“The sports festival..?” 

 

“I want to put a complaint in about the way Bakugou was treated in the awards ceremony,” Aizawa continued. 

 

Nezu nodded, motioning with his hands for Aizawa to continue. He was about to when the door knocked.

 

“Come in!” Nezu called lightly as Aizawa nodded. Permission for their meeting to be interrupted.

 

It was who he expected it to be anyway.

 

“Sorry I’m late!” Yagi called, his muscular form practically filling the doorway. 

 

“Not at all,” Nezu smiled lightly. “I assume you’re both here for the same reason.”

 

“Yes,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Take a seat.”

 

“Thank you,” Yagi replied graciously, closing the door behind him.

 

“I wasn’t there to see the awards ceremony,” Nezu continued as Yagi attempted to fit his rather large frame into one of the chairs provided. “But I oversee a large part of the preparations. How was Bakugou treated?”

 

“He was restrained,” Aizawa replied. “Both hands and arms, across the torso and muzzled.”

 

“It was a rather alarming sight,” Yagi agreed, the two watching as Nezu nodded thoughtfully. 

 

“I saw that part.” 

 

“And you allowed it?” Aizawa questioned shortly. 

 

“I did,” Nezu replied matter-of-factly. “I saw it as a means of protection, not mistreatment.”

 

“Protection for who?” Aizawa snapped, Yagi giving him a look from beside him. 

 

“Bakugou was injured from the restraints,” Yagi took over, Aizawa shuffling back in his seat slightly. “And the media reports on him… Don’t you think that this will harm his opportunities going into the future? UA’s as well?”

 

“He seems to have a lot of internship offers,” Nezu reasoned. “And his injuries were self-inflicted to an extent. He didn’t have to try and fight his way out.”

 

Nezu smiled slightly before continuing. 

 

“UA’s reputation still stands. We are a tough school that holds high standards. Bakugou will learn and I’m sure that this experience will help to turn him into an exemplary hero!”

 

Aizawa didn’t smile back. 

 

“Of course, this complaint can go through, no problem,” Nezu replied brightly. “However just looking at the evidence you have presented, Bakugou’s injuries being self-inflicted, the main effect it has, from my perspective, is on the school's reputation.”

 

Aizawa felt himself twist in his seat. Yagi looked just as troubled. 

 

“If you can come to me with a student statement, something that would indicate that this was harming student wellbeing, at least more so than Bakugou being out of control or indeed absent from the ceremony itself… Then you have more of a case.”

 

“Are you saying you condone it?” Aizawa asked, looking the hybrid in the eye. 

 

Nezu hardly seemed phased. 

 

“Clearly I am to have my mind changed,” he replied. 

 

That sounded like a challenge. 

 

—

 

The following week and Aizawa finally had back all of the internship forms.

 

‘Best Jeanist’

 

Thank God.

 

Aizawa looked down at Bakugou’s form with a sigh of relief. It had been a few days since the sports festival was over and through the stress of getting all twenty of his students through the internship process, Iida’s brother losing his pro-hero status, Stain on the loose around the Tokyo districts AND Aizawa getting his bandages removed from the USJ incident… This form was probably the best news that he’d had all week. 

 

Best Jeanist was perfect for Bakugou. Especially right now. 

 

Of course, he knew why the explosive teenager had chosen him. Best Jeanist was currently 4th in the hero popularity pole and certainly Bakugou’s best offer. But there was no way Tsunagu would like Bakugou as a person. He would have seen his students glaring weakness and want to try and change it. Make Bakugou polite. Make Bakugou a hero.

 

Whether that would work, Aizawa was interested to find out but he had a lot of respect for Tsunagu. And luckily he expected Bakugou felt the same. 

 

The bruises along his neck had gone down, they just looked like bad love bites now, much to the student's disgust. He was pretty sure that Bakugou was trying to cover them with makeup that Jiro had offered him. 

 

Which was also good, at least Bakugou cared somewhat about his image. Maybe he and Tsunagu were more alike than he thought. Maybe they would get on. 

 

Probably not. 

 

More worryingly, however, were the news articles that were coming through. All week. Aizawa usually had to worry about stuff from the media getting to his student's heads. Most went from not getting recognised at all to being pointed out on the street, spoken to on their commute from school. People from all over the world watched the UA Sports Festival. The kid's social media’s would start getting swamped, they would start having to create an image for themselves. 

 

Bakugou’s image was already dragged through the mud. 

 

He’d asked Bakugou already if he’d wanted to apply for complaint. Bakugou had made his stance clear. 

 

“No.”

 

“Can I ask why?” Aizawa had asked through gritted teeth. He wanted to be firmer but he didn’t want to risk shutting Bakugou off. For once, manners could come second.

 

“Because I’m not weak,” Bakugou had replied, indignantly. “It didn’t fucking hurt-“

 

“Language…”

 

“-It didn’t hurt.”

 

Aizawa had remembered looking intently at his student's bruises as he spoke. There was no way in hell that they didn’t hurt. 

 

Bakugou had noticed, rising his collar and turning his head to one side. 

 

And that had been the end of that one. 

 

—

 

“Fuck’s sake,”

 

Bakugou leant over the grass by the side of the running track, breathing heavily and letting the residual from his explosions char the grass beneath him. 

 

It smelt like wildfire, if only for a second. 9:30pm. Just half an hour and then he’d go back home, shower, do homework, go to bed. It was internships tomorrow. He could do with getting a decent amount of sleep.

 

Only sometimes did he run like this. Usually, if he didn’t feel like going home whilst the busy Tokyo commute was taking place or just when he felt as if he needed a boost. If someone was getting dangerously close to beating him in class. Especially Deku. 

 

God knows what had happened to him over the summer but Bakugou was pretty sure that the last time his middle school had to complete a 5k run, Deku was last. 

 

Now, at the sports festival, he’d placed first.

 

The thud of footsteps interrupted his train of thoughts. Bakugou looked up slightly to see another pair of trainers a couple of meters away. Attached to a pair of gangly legs and a mop of purple hair. 

 

“The fuck do you want?” he asked before Shinsou had a chance to speak first. 

 

Instead of replying, the general studies student scoffed slightly, parking his water bottle next to the track and turning away from Bakugou, beginning to stretch. 

 

“I’m not scared of you,” Bakugou continued. “Fucking try and take me over with your quirk, I don’t care.”

 

“Wow,” Shinsou slurred as he raised his arms above his head, twisting to one side. “You really think the world revolves around you. If you weren’t aware, these are school grounds. I’m allowed to go where I want.”

 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou snapped, pushing himself up onto his knees to get a closer look at the teenager. “I meant you could speak if you wanted to. I’m not scared.”

 

Shinsou looked across for a split second, his eyebrows raising slightly before turning to the opposite side. 

 

“I know.”

 

Bakugou took a breath in, pulling himself up and swigging his water gratefully. He spent a few moments watching Shinsou stretch before;

 

“Do you have a watch?”

 

Shinsou stopped what he was doing, turning to face Bakugou fully. His eyes dark, eye bags darker. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Time me,” Bakugou instructed, flexing his calves slightly before hopping back onto the track. 

 

Shinsou didn’t reply either way but glanced down at his watch slightly as Bakugou took off in a run. There was a moment of shock for his body, a moment where his muscles felt light before Bakugou claimed pace, finding his rhythm and letting muscle memory take over. He wondered if he was running as fast as Deku would if he was training with stupid All Might. He wondered what All Might would say if he knew Bakugou was training this hard. Probably not praise. Probably ‘go home!’. 

 

Shinsou had moved from warm-up exercises to ab exercises by the time Bakugou had completed his fifth lap, sprinting to the finish and grabbing the boys wrist as he fell to the grass. 

 

“What the fuck?” Shinsou snapped, pulling himself away from Bakugou. 

 

“What was my time?!”

 

“Jesus… Er, eight minutes thirty? Ish?”

 

“Fucking damnit,” Bakugou hissed, rolling sideways into the grass and breathing heavily. 

 

Shinsou rolled his eyes, unbeknown to Bakugou and went back to crunches. 

 

Bakugou’s breathing didn’t take long to even out. He used one hand to cover his eyes from the rising sun, flexing his legs on the ground, feeling himself tense up with annoyance. 

 

He should be faster. At least by now. 

 

“What are you doing?” he asked the general studies student as Shinsou moved onto sit-ups. 

 

“What does it look like?” Shinsou grunted in reply, clearly uninterested. “You’re watching me.”

 

“Why are you training?” Bakugou reiterated. “You hoping to get into the hero course or something?”

 

“Something like that,” Shinsou replied with a small grin. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

 

“You nearly got to the final of the sports festival,” Bakugou reasoned, sitting up and leaning forward so his head was between his knees slightly. “I like knowing the competition.”

 

“You’re a joke,” Shinsou scoffed. 

 

“You’re doing sit-ups wrong,” Bakugou retorted, looking across at him and pointing. “Your feet are coming off the ground.” 

 

“Fuck off,” Shinsou snapped. 

 

But Bakugou didn’t. Instead, he clambered onto his knees, shuffling forwards until he could place his hands on Shinsou’s feet. 

 

“What the fu-“

 

“Now try,” Bakugou commanded, applying pressure. 

 

Shinsou gave him a twisted glare but nevertheless attempted the sit up once more. This time he barely raised his torso halfway before giving out with a pant. 

 

“You’re fucking weak,” Bakugou concluded, releasing the pressure from Shinsou’s feet and resting back on his legs. 

 

“Just you wait,” Shinsou hissed, out of breath. 

 

“You’ll never beat me,” Bakugou replied. 

 

“Luckily for you, that’s not my aim,” Shinsou snapped, averting his eyes from Bakugou’s. “Nice bruises.”

 

Bakugou’s hand went instinctively for the side of his neck. He growled slightly and turned away with a pout. 

 

“I can’t believe they still use that kind of method,” Shinsou continued, nonchalantly. “I thought muzzles were so my childhood.”

 

“I didn’t hurt,” Bakugou found himself arguing once more. “I’m fine.”

 

“Jeez, you’re so self-indulgent aren’t you?” Shinsou laughed. 

 

“Fuck o-“

 

The was a moment of unease and then Bakugou felt the weight of the world drop off his shoulder. 

 

“Slap yourself around the fucking face. Pretty boy,” Shinsou instructed, watching as the winner of the sports festival, Bakugou Katsuki, lift his arm and sharply slap his own cheek. 

 

Shinsou let the control dissipate with a laugh, Bakugou coming to before crying out in anger. 

 

“GAH! BASTARD SCUM!” 

 

“It’s not about whether you felt fucking pain or not,” Shinsou stated. “It’s about the principle. I could use my quirk without hurting people. But I’m not allowed, because it’s fucked up. And muzzles fuck kids up. And seeing them on national television and you being okay with it, makes it fucking normal. And that’s the issue.”

 

“You’re definitely fucked up,” Bakugou hissed, rubbing the side of his face. “Fuck! What kind of fucked-up metaphor was that?!” 

 

Shinsou simply scoffed in reply, lying back down onto the grass. 

 

“If you want to do something about it then you complain,” Bakugou continued, flexing his, now red, palm. “String out some sob story from when you were a kid.”

 

“They’ve asked you to complain?” Shinsou asked, ignoring Bakugou’s remark and picking a nearby daisy from the ground next to him and beginning to pick off the petals. 

 

“Yeah?” Bakugou retorted. 

 

“Why haven’t you?” 

 

There was a pause, Bakugou looking up at the darkening sky, the streetlights beginning to flicker in the distance. 

 

“Can’t be arsed,” he eventually replied, shrugging. 

 

“Some hero you are,” Shinsou insulted. 

 

“Go to hell.”

 

“Do something for someone else?”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

Shinsou sighed, then laughed hollowly. 

 

“Help me do ten more sit up’s,” he instructed. 

 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou replied once more. 

 

Shinsou sat up, glaring at him. 

 

“Do you want me to time your next run or not?”

 

—

 

The week after internships and both Aizawa and Yagi had stopped talking about the sports festival. 

 

There were more important things happening. Stain was dead, exams were coming up, Shinsou’s training. 

 

Aizawa dismissed 1A from homeroom five minutes early. Why couldn’t it be Saturday instead of Monday?

 

“Bakugou?” Aizawa questioned his younger student as he watched him walk up to his desk, Kirishima a few paces behind him. The rest of the students had left for lunch but Bakugou was making a bee-line for his desk, arm outstretched. Determined. 

 

“Do you have the form?” Bakugou asked gruffly, turning his head away and trying to flick his hair out of his eyes. 

 

Best Jeanist’s haircut suited him.

 

“The form?” Aizawa asked curiously, racking his mind for what the boy could mean. 

 

“The complaint form. From the sports festival,” Bakugou replied awkwardly. Aizawa felt his eyes go wide as his hands reached for his desk drawer. 

 

“Yes… Yes, it’s here,” he replied quickly, flicking through his paperwork before finding the form he was looking for handing it over. “You don’t have to do it now. You can bring it in tomorrow at homeroom.”

 

“Okay,” Bakugou replied, taking the form and shoving it in his backpack without even glancing at it. “…Can I have two?”

 

“Are you okay..?” Aizawa asked after a moment before pulling out another sheet, handing it over. There had to be a reason Bakugou has suddenly asked to speak up. His mind wanted to rest on Best Jeanist training, that somehow what happened to the others in Hosu made him rethink what made someone a hero. 

 

But his gut instinct kept trying to warn him against the thought. 

 

“I’m fine,” Bakugou replied. “Mind control. Gen Ed kid? Wanted one.”

 

“Shinsou..?” Aizawa asked after a moment. Bakugou shrugged. 

 

“I’ll give them back at the end of the day,” he replied gruffly before walking away. 

 

 

"Bakugou!" Aizawa called, stopping his student from leaving the classroom. He reached into his desk drawer once more, pulling out the first place medal and holding it in the air. "Would you like it back yet?"

 

"No," Bakugou replied. And with that he was out of the door, Kirishima smiling sheepishly as an apology. 

 

Aizawa placed it back. Let it collect dust. 

 

Some fights weren't worth fighting. 

Chapter 45: Earthquake

Summary:

Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake! Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake!

Aizawa woke up with a start, artificial light flooding the room. The sound of the alarm cutting through his dream. His phone was buzzing with such ferocity that it was nearly falling off of his bedside table.

He sat up, bleary-eyed, grabbing it and staring at the screen.

Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake! Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake!

How long did he have? Fifteen seconds? Twenty?

And twenty kids upstairs.

Shit.

Notes:

Happy Friday! A lot has happened this week!

Firstly, the fire at Kyoto Animation Studios... Have had Free as one of my introductions into anime I can't even begin to express how heartbreaking it is to see the studio, the staff and their handcrafted work all lost due to one person's selfish actions. It's honestly heartbreaking.

On a not-even-that-much-of-a-lighter-note, has anyone read chapter 236 of the MHA manga yet?! I stg I stared at those manga panels for ages because they were too horrifying to take my eyes off XD (seriously tho it’s horrible. Especially if you don’t like pets dying. Proceed with caution)

Lastly, this chapter is one of two parts (that can be read as stand alone stories) prompted by Drakohatake who wanted some Dadzawa for Midoryia especially :) I just wanted to have this chapter as a set up for the next one which is the proper prompt :)

Hope you enjoy!

2 am. 

 

Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake! Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake! 

 

Aizawa woke up with a start, artificial light flooding the room. The sound of the alarm cutting through his dream. His phone was buzzing with such ferocity that it was nearly falling off of his bedside table. 

 

He sat up, bleary-eyed, grabbing it and staring at the screen. 

 

Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake! Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake! 

 

How long had it been? Ten seconds? More? He hooked his legs over the bed, grappling beside him for his shoes, his fingers slipping as his phone continued to buzz. 

 

Shit, shit, shit…

 

No time to think. 

 

1A. 

 

Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake! Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake! 

 

He couldn’t get his heel to slip into the shoe. Voices were starting to shout from above him. He needed to get them undercover.

 

His hands fiddled with the laces, desperately trying to undo them. 

 

Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake! Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake! 

 

Sirens had started to sound from outside. 

 

15 seconds had passed. 

 

Aizawa forced his foot in, scraping his heel, cursing himself for not loosening them the night before, He jumped up, sprinting outside, taking the stairs two at a time. 

 

Aizawa bumped into Tokoyami on the way, Aoyama and Kaminari following close behind. The three out of breath, eyes wide. 

 

The stairs were a bad place to be.

 

“GET OUTSIDE! GO!” 

 

They didn’t stop to reply, Aizawa pushing past them, jumping the last few steps.

 

He turned the corner, more of his students running towards the stairs. Shoji with Mineta on his back, Ashido and Jiro following. 

 

“Hagakure’s here as well!” Ashido called. 

 

“I don’t know where Yaoyorozu is!” Jiro cried.

 

The television was on, turned to the news channel, alarm ringing. 

 

An earthquake is taking place. An earthquake is taking place.

 

“GET UNDER COVER!” Aizawa screamed, his voice just about making it across the room before the shaking started. “GET U- AGH!”

 

There was a crash from behind him, left out plates falling from the side of the kitchen to the floor, smashing as they hit the ground. The room came alive, shaking as if it was a wild beast, clawing at its cage. A child throwing a tantrum.

 

“AIZAWA-SENSEI!”

 

Aizawa heard Ashido scream just as the lights went out with an almighty crack, plummeting the room into darkness. 

 

The ground rumbled as if it were a freight train, forcing Aizawa to his knees with a jolt. He desperately reached out for something, his hand hitting a table leg. 

 

“ON THE GROUND!” he yelled as loudly as he could, praying that he could be heard over the noise. 

 

The emergency lighting flickered on and off, movies and books falling off from their shelves. Every time the light’s came back on, the sofa’s had moved, shaking in their place. 

 

Aizawa crawled forward, having to balance himself with each movement, reaching out with one hand until he caught Jiro’s sleeve. 

 

“Get under the table!” he cried, pulling her towards him, guiding her to where he knew she would be safe. 

 

“Ashido! Hagakure!” she called behind her, seemingly pulling the two other girls to safety. 

 

“Shoji?” Aizawa cried out, righting himself on his hands and knees, crawling forwards and pushing the coffee table from beside him. “Are you okay?!” 

 

“I’m okay!” Shoji replied. “Mineta as well!” 

 

“Just stay there!” Aizawa called back, pulling himself onto his feet, tripping over the carpet as the light shattered above him. A shower of glass rained down onto the room cutting into the back of Aizawa hands as he shielded his head. 

 

He needed to get to the tv cabinet. 

 

Stumbling forward he threw himself onto the ground once more, the momentum of the earthquake pushing him forwards. Another scream rang out from above him, forcing him to ignore the stinging of his hands, the ache of his knees as they took the full force of his fall. 

 

Reaching forward with one outstretched hand his fingers grasped onto the handle of the drawer. 

 

An earthquake is t-t-taking place. An earthquake is is i- taking-g-g p-place.

 

The tv picture above him fizzled, further plummeting the room into darkness. 

 

Finally, the catch on the drawer gave way, Aizawa yanking it open with some force. DVDs and games remotes flying onto the floor. Then, there at the back of the cupboard, a black backpack. 

 

That was what he was-

 

C-RACK 

 

Aizawa just managed to look upwards before suddenly the television was coming crashing down towards him. He yanked the bag out of its place, rolling over to one side, barely pulling his fingers out from under it as the screen as it crashed to the floor with an almighty smash.  

 

“AIZAWA-SENSEI?!” Shoji yelled, his voice raw. 

 

Jiro screamed, Ashido whimpering in the background. 

 

“I’m okay!” he called back. “Hold on!” 

 

There were more screams from upstairs. Aizawa hoped they didn’t think anything bad had happened to him. Prayed that they were safe. 

 

The bag beside him was ripped from the drawer handle, a gaping gash on one side spilling the contents out onto the floor. 

 

That didn’t matter. Aizawa knew what he needed from the bag. 

 

Flashlight. 

 

First aid kit. 

 

Radio.

 

He clicked on the flashlight, setting down beside him, and rummaged around for a carabiner. There was still glass resting on his sleeve. He brushed it off without trying to think too much about it. 

 

“Everyone okay?!” he called out. 

 

“Yes!”

 

“We’re fine!” 

 

“Mind your heads!” Aizawa called back, attaching the first aid kit to his belt and shoving the radio in his pocket. “There’s glass on the floor as well!”  

 

“When will it be over?” Ashido yelled over the roar of the quake. Her voice was high pitched, desperate. 

 

Aizawa picked up the flashlight, first flashing it above him. All the lights were already shattered. Then he shone it across the room. 

 

He didn’t have an answer for Ashido. So he didn’t answer. 

 

The common area was already in disarray, the contents of the room stranded across the floor. Broken glass still sliding from one side to the other. 

 

How long had it been? Three minutes? Thinking logically, this was probably the first quake of two? Three? But most likely the longest one. UA buildings were shockproof to an extent. They wouldn’t take much structural damage. It was safer outside, there would be more staff there but for now, it was safer upstairs. As high as possible. 

 

And out of rooms. There was too much that could fall. 

 

There was another quake. Something crashed from upstairs and someone screamed, piercing the air. Aizawa stumbled backwards slightly but dragged himself up onto his feet. He hunched over to steady himself, arms outstretched and flashlight out. Jiro and Ashido were hunched under the table, Jiro clutching onto the table leg and the other two girls wrapped around her waist. Jiro’s hands were cut from where they had been exposed outside the table. 

 

Neither were crying but their eyes were wide. There was something about seeing them out of their costumes, in simple t-shirts and shorts, hair down. It unnerved Aizawa. They looked like children. 

 

They were children. 

 

The light of the flashlight blinked out suddenly, Aizawa reaching across with one hand and hitting it hard. The light came back on but Aizawa lost his balance once more, tipping forwards and using the sofa to push himself up. Shoji was using his arms to protect both himself and Mineta like some sort of shield, their backs against the wall.

 

“When the quake stops. Give it twenty seconds, then get out of here,” Aizawa called to the room. “Don’t move if it starts up again and once your outside I want you to find the others and stay there. Got it?”

 

He shone his flashlight across the common area. His question was returned with nodding. 

 

A crash, then another scream rang through the air. Aizawa couldn’t make out who it was but it was a boy. Todoroki? Koda? Kaminari? 

 

It didn’t matter. The shaking subdued a little and Aizawa made a run for it, guiding himself out of the common room and climbing over the broken furniture leading to the staircase. 

 

He calculated the students that he knew were safe. Everyone was out from the second floor.

 

He needed to get to the third floor. 

 

Not wanting to take his chances, he knelt down to his hands and knees once more, looking up. 

 

The lights were still intact, swinging from side to side fiercely. Aizawa dropped his gaze, shielding his face from them and raised himself to a squat. He just about managed to get up the first flight of stairs and onto the second, when there was a snap from above him, the light fixture coming down just in front of him. 

 

“Shit.”

 

“Aizawa-Sensei!” 

 

Aizawa looked up to see Iida on the landing above. Wide-eyed but hopeful, his mouth drawn into a thin line. 

 

He didn’t seem to be injured. Thank God.

 

“Don’t move!” Aizawa snapped back. Iida nodded once but still put one foot on the step below, lowering himself down so that he was sitting. He extended an arm out, the other arm clutching onto the skirting board beside him. 

 

“People are trapped-“

 

“Everyone is safe down there,” Aizawa replied quickly. 

 

Iida seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, relaxing slightly before pushing his hand forward once more.

 

“You can grab my hand,” he explained, voice strained as he leant forwards. 

 

Aizawa looked up at him and clenched his jaw slightly. 

 

“How good is your grip?” 

 

“Good,” Iida replied. “Grab on.” 

 

Aizawa found his footing on the step above him and grunted slightly, propelling himself upwards and grabbing onto his student’s hand. Iida winced but kept steady, helping to haul his homeroom teacher over the light and onto the step above. Aizawa let go of Iida’s hand but a sudden quake caused him to grab onto his student's shoulders instead, steadying himself. 

 

It passed. 

 

“Okay let’s go,” Aizawa muttered, Iida nodding briefly before making his way up the remaining stairs and into the corridor of the third floor. 

 

To his relief, six of his students were in the corridor already. Their phones were on flashlight mode, littered across the floor, illuminating the room just enough. 

 

Kirishima was crouched next to Koda, his hardening activated and holding the majority of what seemed to be Koda’s pets. Protecting them. 

 

Aizawa assumed Koda’s fish were probably dead. The tanks would have broken under the force. 

 

Bakugou was just in front of the two, quirk blazing. There were scorch marks were the lights would have been. Bakugou had thought ahead. 

 

A small relief. 

 

It didn’t look as if there was anything more than a scratch on any of them. What worried Aizawa however, was Uraraka. 

 

She didn’t seem to be harmed but she was struggling in Ojiro’s grip, barely managing to keep her balance as the teenager was desperately using his tail to hold her back. 

 

“Uraraka, he’s fine!” Iida called out.

 

“What happened?” Aizawa asked quickly, stumbling across to them. 

 

Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake! Beep beep. Beep beep. Earthquake! 

 

Bakugou’s phone rang out, just about pushing the boy over the edge. He slammed it down on the ground, almost going down with it as the building seemed to shake off its foundations. 

 

“GODDAMMIT! FUCKING THING! SHUT UP WE KNOW IT’S AN EARTHQUAKE!” Bakugou screamed, exploding the phone in his palms and throwing it to the floor.

 

Miraculously it was if even nature was scared of Bakugou Katsuki. 

 

The shaking subdued. Then stopped. 

 

“Bro! We might have needed that you idiot!” Kirishima cried beside him. 

 

“No signal,” he snapped back. “The power lines have obviously come down.”

 

“But the torch-!”

 

“Has it stopped?” Ojiro asked, Aizawa coming beside them, using an arm to hold Uraraka back as well. “Has the earthquake stopped?”

 

“Wait!” Aizawa cried. “No one move yet! Make sure!” 

 

Silence filled the corridor. There was noise coming from downstairs, a few lowly crashes echoing across the dorms. But nothing else. 

 

“It’s stopped,” Kirishima said under his breath. 

 

“Usually earthquakes coming in groups,” Iida commented from behind Aizawa. 

 

“He’s right,” Aizawa replied turning back to the class rep. “Iida you need to get everyone from this floor and below out of here. You know where the glass is, so be careful. Find where there are staff and stay together.”

 

“Yes, Sensei!” Iida cried back. 

 

“Do you know where anybody else is?” Aizawa asked. 

 

“Still upstairs,” Kirishima replied. “I can go get-“

 

“No,” Aizawa snapped. “Get out of here now. We have minutes. Max.”

 

“Then we should get them out!” Bakugou hissed. 

 

“Bakugou for once in your life you will LISTEN TO ME!” Aizawa shouted.

 

 The room fell to silence. Even in the torchlight, Aizawa could see his student’s anger.

 

“You’re not getting them out,” Aizawa finally repeated. Bakugou muttered something under his breath, looking at the floor. “Is the internet working?” 

 

“It is,” Ojiro replied, pointing his head over to his phone as Uraraka broke free of his grasp. “Wait! Uraraka!”

 

“Get someone on the fifth floor on a video call or something,” Aizawa replied.

 

“I need to make sure he’s okay!” Uraraka interrupted, crying out desperately, Aizawa grabbing onto her arm to stop her. 

 

“Who?!” he asked urgently, racking his brains to think of who she could possibly mean. “Everyone’s accounted f-”

 

Aizawa’s blood ran cold. 

 

“Where’s Midoriya?” 

 

The screams. 

 

He lived on the second floor. 

 

Shit.

 

“Was he in his room?” Aizawa asked, turning around to face Iida. The class president’s eyes grew wide.

 

“I thought you said…”

 

“Was he in his room?!” Aizawa repeated, aware he was losing his temper. Not trying to keep things civil. 

 

Iida’s expression grew cold.

 

“Yes.”

 

“I have Todoroki on voice call,” Ojiro announced, Aizawa taking a breath. He pulled the radio out his pocket and threw it across to Iida.

 

“Iida get everybody out. Do not let anyone into the second floor, straight out. Use the radio if you need. Have you got that?” 

 

“Yes Sensei,” Iida replied, subdued. Uraraka thrashed in her homeroom teachers grip.

 

“But De-!”

 

“I will find him,” Aizawa replied, twisting Uraraka towards him and looking her straight in the eye. “But you need to get out of here. NOW!” 

 

Bakugou seemed to understand, grabbing the girls wrist and hauling her towards the staircase. 

 

Aizawa grabbed the phone from Ojiro’s stretched palm. 

 

“It’s a weak signal,” he stated, as Aizawa lifted the handset to his ear.

 

“Go. And take this,” he motioned, handing over his own flashlight before taking the call. “Todoroki.” 

 

“Sensei.”

 

The voice on the other side of the line was distant but level headed. Aizawa was grateful for that. 

 

“Is everybody okay where you are?”

 

“Yes they’re fine,” Todoroki replied quickly. “There’s five of us here. That’s the entire floor.”

 

“You need to use your quirk, open the emergency window at the end of the corridor and make a slide with your ice. Get everyone down onto the ground and find the others.”

 

“Okay. Is it not safer here?” Todoroki asked. Aizawa could tell the boy was moving towards the window nevertheless, the signal getting weaker as he did. Aizawa replied, trying to count up students in his head, making sure he hadn’t missed anyone else. 

 

He couldn’t miss anyone el-

 

“Aizawa-Sensei? Can you hear me?”

 

Aizawa curled his free hand into a fist, letting the cuts that littered them rip open. The sting felt good.

 

“You’ll be safer in an open space. The UA grounds are reenforced and the pros will be there,” he explained. “But you need to be quick. I can’t say how long you have.” 

 

“We’ll be careful,” Todoroki replied.

 

Aizawa hung up, reactivated the flashlight on the phone. And ran. 

 

He couldn’t take the stairs two at a time as he would have liked to, shards of glass getting in his way, cutting through the soles of his shoes. 

 

He didn’t have far to go, however. 

 

Second floor.

 

Silence. 

 

Aizawa prayed that somehow Midoryia had found a way out. Or under a table. Or just stayed in damn bed. They couldn’t have long left before a second quake. 

 

Miraculously there was still one light down the corridor that hadn’t been smashed. 

 

Shit, he should have turned the router off before coming upstairs. How did he forget that one? Hopefully, it clicked off by itself. 

 

Why was he making so many stupid mistakes?

 

“Midoryia?!” he called down the corridor, shining the phone light onto the ground to make sure he wasn’t about to trip over anything. “Mirdoryia?! Are you down here?”

 

There was no reply. 

 

Midoryia’s room was at the end of the corridor, the door firmly shut. There didn’t seem to be any light coming from there but then again there was no light coming from any of the rooms. The entire place was eerily black.

 

“Midoryia?!” Aizawa called again, reaching down for the door handle, twisting it with one hand, his body twisted so his ear was pressed up against the frame. 

 

The door swung open about halfway and then slammed to a stop. Hitting something hard. 

 

Aizawa flashed the light in front of him. 

 

A shelving unit lay strewn in front of the entrance. Books and All Might figures were littered at Aizawa’s feet. Further ahead, Midoryia’s desk lay tipped over to one side. Propped up by something. 

 

Or somebody.

 

“Midoriya..!”

 

Aizawa scrambled over the shelf, having to clamber onto Midoryia’s bed to get across to where he was. Leaving the phone light perched on top of the fallen furniture, illuminating the room. Just enough.

 

Midoryia’s blankets had fallen off the side of the bed, wrapped around one of his legs which stuck out from just under the upturned desk. 

 

Aizawa laid down on Midoryia’s bed, reaching down with one arm to hook his hand under the side of the desk. He grunted slightly as he heaved it up, catching the top with his other hand and twisting to push it back into position.  

 

Midoryia laid underneath, his face turned away from Aizawa. Still breathing, his chest moving up and down. Slowly but rhythmically. The desk had somehow fallen across his collarbone and legs, a drawer lying just beside his face. Everything narrowly but miraculously missing his neck. 

 

Aizawa stepped over him, making sure not to jolt him and getting between him and the desk. Just in case. 

 

“Midoryia. Wake up.”

 

Aizawa placed one hand on the side of Midoryia’s face, tapping his cheek slightly. 

 

“Come on Problem Child, we need to go.” 

 

Nothing looked broken. And if it was, it would only be a collar bone, a rib… 

 

“Midoryia. Wake up.”

 

If Aizawa moved him, he could probably lift him gently enough not to cause any more damage. But if the second quake hit before they got out… The problem was he didn’t know how injured the child was. And it was dark. There was glass everywhere. 

 

They would be safer inside dorms. 

 

But not in here. One sudden movement and that desk would come crashing back down. Aizawa was confident he could take the weight on his back but then they would both be trapped.

 

“Midoryia, please.”

 

Aizawa dropped the hold on his student's cheek, Midoryia’s head lolling back sickeningly. Aizawa’s hand came away bloody.

 

Fuck. 

 

Aizawa looked up and across at the doorway, trying to work out how easy it would be to get out when a low rumble erupted from somewhere far away. 

 

No, no, no, no…

 

He’d run out of time.

 

Aizawa took a breath in and prayed to every single God he didn’t believe in. 

 

He grabbed the phone from the side, shoving it into his mouth and holding it with his teeth to provide some light. Then, with one arm hooked under the boy's shoulders and neck, the other under his knees he shakily lifted Midoryia up into the air. The boy was pure muscle. Heavy, very heavy but small. Aizawa could still manoeuvre them both towards the doorway with some ease. 

 

The rumble grew closer and closer, rising in volume and velocity. Everything was starting to shake once more, the All Might figures sliding on the ground beneath him, a poster flying off of the wall and landing in the crook of his arm. The smug face of the number one hero stared up at him. Git. It was at times like this that Aizawa really didn’t need him to be retired.

 

There was a crash behind him, just as Aizawa managed to hook a foot outside the door again. He didn’t even need to turn to know that it was the desk. And from the sound of it, Aizawa was glad that it wasn’t actually his back that took the brunt of the fall. 

 

There were a few seconds of silence before the force of the second quake hit. 

 

“Arghhh!”

 

Aizawa didn’t have a choice as he was swept off his feet, forcing his forearms forwards and slamming to his knees. Using all his will to keep Midoryia’s head from slamming down with them. 

 

A searing pain bloomed across both shins causing him to gasp audibly, his eyes stinging with tears and the phone rolling across the floor. He continued to lower his arms down, getting as close to the floor as possible before letting Midoryia go. The boy dropped to the floor with a little bit more of a ‘thud’ than Aizawa had intended but somehow it seemed to jolt Midoryia awake. 

 

He opened his eyes with some force, his whole body writhing as he tried to guide his hands to the floor of the corridor. There was another crash from inside the room, the two looking around. Midoryia’s eyes wild. 

 

“Deku!”

 

The scream erupted from outside, unmistakably Uraraka. The crashing from inside Midoryia’s room had probably terrified her. 

 

But she was outside. So Aizawa could stop worrying about her. He focused his attention back to Midoryia, the boy’s eyes squinting under the light of the phone flash beside him. Confused and scared. 

 

“Midoryia. Do you know where you are?” 

 

“There’s... an earthquake...” the teenager stuttered, trying to prop himself up onto his arms. “Everyone’s-“

 

“Fine. They’re all okay,” Aizawa reassured him quickly. “What happened?” 

 

“The desk fell on me...” Midoryia replied, a large rumble causing them both to lose their balance. Aizawa caught himself against the wall, reaching out and grabbing Midoryia across the waist as the boy rolled to the side. 

 

The boy didn’t seem to be concussed. Thank goodness. 

 

“We just need to get to the corridor if we can,” Aizawa grunted. He steadied himself into a sitting position “It’s not safe here...” 

 

“Are you okay?” Midoryia asked quietly, picking up the phone and turning it around to better see his homeroom teacher. “Ojiro’s phone...” he muttered to himself. “Oh! You’re bleeding!” 

 

“I’m fine,” Aizawa muttered, grabbing the light and waving him away. “You’re bleeding as well. Hang on.”

 

“I am..?” Midoryia asked as another rumble sent the cabinet rolling towards them. 

 

“Grab one end!” Aizawa shouted, twisting over and using both hands to push the furniture back into the centre of the room. 

 

Midoryia blanked for a moment before realising what was happening. He let out a small yelp, twisting towards the cabinet, arms outstretched. They struggled for a second before Aizawa saw out of the corner of his eye, Midoryia’s body glowing green. All at once the cabinet shifted unevenly in his direction, the teenager taking the majority of the force. 

 

“I’ve got it!” Midoryia called. “Get the door!”

 

Aizawa nodded, shifting over so that Midoryia could move to the middle. He forced himself shakily to his feet, reaching up for the door handle at the same time and yanking the frame open and clicking the lock. 

 

Back against the door to prop it open, he grabbed onto Midoryia’s shirt, pulling him back slightly. 

 

“Okay move!” 

 

Midoryia scrambled back on command, giving the two seconds to slam the door behind them before the cabinet rolled back into place. The lock on Midoryia’s bedroom clicked into place the moment the cabinet collided with the door. Hitting it with force and pushing both himself and his student across the corridor. 

 

“Argh!”

 

“Eraserhead!”

 

Once more Aizawa felt himself lose control of his body, this time blind, the phone slipping from his grip and clattering to the floor. Plummeting the corridor into darkness as he broke his fall once more with both forearms. 

 

The two laid splayed out on the carpet for a moment, breathing heavily. Aizawa shuffled up onto his knees once more, wincing. He retrieved the first aid kit from across his belt, hands shaking as he undid the carabiner. 

 

The world still shook around them, yells and cries for help sounding from outside. The occasional crash of furniture. 

 

“Midoryia...” he called into the darkness, the phone light moving slightly until it was pointed in his direction. 

 

“Are we safe out here?” Midoryia asked. His voice wavered slightly but his eyes remained focused. Determined. 

 

Aizawa nodded with a grunt, pulling himself across the corridor and guiding his student away from the door frame. 

 

“My mum...” 

 

“Hold still,” Aizawa commanded, reaching to take the phone out of Midoryia’s hands, twisting it for a better look at the cut on his head. 

 

It was shallow. Bleeding profusely, dried blood congealing across Midoryia’s eyebrows. Not threatening-looking, however. 

 

“Where does your mum live?” Aizawa asked. He felt a twinge of guilt as he selfishly but grateful thanked the Lords that his own family lived in the centre of Japan. Their sleepy town hadn’t seen an earthquake since the ’90s. 

 

“She’s not at home right now,” Midoryia replied, wincing as Aizawa wiped antiseptic across the teenager's forehead. “She’s in Fujisawa.” 

 

Aizawa’s chest clenched slightly. 

 

“That’s not too near here,” he reasoned softly, his hand falling to his side as he braced himself for yet another rumble. 

 

This quake must be longer than the other one. He almost couldn’t believe it. 

 

“But it’s on the coast,” Midoryia replied, his voice barely a whisper, eyes brimming with tears. “Tsunami’s-“

 

“We’re not thinking of tsunami’s,” Aizawa cut him off. “Okay?” 

 

“Okay...” 

 

Midoryia looked down at the ground for a moment, blinking, composing himself. 

 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Aizawa asked. 

 

“No.”

 

Which meant not badly. 

 

Ojiro's phone buzzing took Aizawa by surprise. He nearly dropped it before twisting the screen round to look in surprise at the Line caller I-D. 

 

‘Katy Perry’ 

 

Who the hell was that?

 

He answered quickly. 

 

“Hello?”

 

“Sensei.”

 

“Todoroki?!” 

 

“Are... you okay?” 

 

Aizawa blinked, focusing again. He couldn’t see Midoryia anymore, the light faced away from his face. He could still feel his pyjama sleeve across his own arm. Making sure that he was close. 

 

“Yes. I have Midoryia, we’re both fine. We’re safe.” 

 

“Where are you?” Todoroki asked, his voice coming in and out as the signal wavered. 

 

“We’re in the corridor of the second floor. Left-hand side.”

 

“Okay.” 

 

Aizawa could hear as Todoroki repeated the information to someone behind him. 

 

There was less shaking now. Another earthquake coming to an end. 

 

About time. 

 

“Is anyone injured?” Todoroki asked coming back into the call. 

 

Aizawa tuned into his throbbing shins, feeling the fresh blood cool on top of his hands. 

 

“No.” 

 

Yet more talking on the other end of the line. Aizawa used the time to turn the torch back in Midoryia’s direction, getting a glimpse at the boy’s true expression before he noticed. Smiling quickly. Aizawa breathed deeply. 

 

“She’ll be alright kid.” 

 

“EVERYTHING’S OKAY NOW!!” a, slightly weak but jovial voice boomed across from them, causing Aizawa to jolt. Midoryia’s eyes widening once more. “WHY?!”

 

A crash sounded from the other end of the corridor. The emergency window bursting open. 

 

But it couldn’t be..?

 

“BECAUSE I AM KIND OF HERE! JUST RIDING ON MT LADY!”

 

“All Might!” Midoryia gasped. 

 

Aizawa rolled his eyes. 

 

Git. 

Notes:

My pet fish also died today so I feel you Koda :( x

Chapter 46: Playing Dad

Summary:

All the dads are concerned about their sons.

Even if they're technically not their actual sons.

*The aftermath of last chapters earthquake*

Notes:

Happy Friday! I'm currently doing the two and a half-hour commute to go tech in a show for the weekend so I'll probably come out of this weekend looking a lot like Aizawa.

I actually have two coffees in my bag already.

Enjoy this fluff!

(this is the continuation of drakohatake's prompt where I promised them a sort of Aizawa and Midoryia sleepover haha)

 

A 6.8 magnitude earthquake had hit the outer regions of Japan and travelled up as far as Niiza. Tokyo had been hit the worst, but there were only two recorded deaths across the country. A small tsunami had travelled up as far as Misakiguchi, causing flooding of the local towns, not much more. 

 

In the grand scheme of things and thanks to the multitude of hero work that had gone on, things hadn't turned out badly. 

 

When it came to injuries, Aizawa had only come away with bruising and some messed up hands. Midoryia had come out of the situation with four broken ribs. He didn't quite know how the kid did it.

 

There hadn't been much contact from his mum. 

 

She was alive, that much they knew. Her phone had been broken in the quake but she'd managed to get hold of a friend, phoning UA and got the call transferred to the infirmary for Midoryia. 

 

All the trains were cancelled, however, there was some hope for her getting one back by the weekend.

 

The look in the teenager's eyes when his mum came on the line that night, the way he clutched onto the handset, his knuckles white, lip quivering. Aizawa had immediately taken his leave from the infirmary, stepping outside slightly to give the boy some space.

 

"Can I use your phone?" the pro asked Hizashi, the pro just outside the door as well. Hizashi looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. 

 

"So you're okay then?” his best friend replied, fishing into his pocket.

 

"Don't tell me you've been waiting for me or something," Aizawa growled, taking the mobile off of him and reaching for his best friend’s hand, twisting it over so that he could use Hizashi's thumb-print to open it up. 

 

His best friend sighed slightly, letting him all the same.

 

"No. Waiting for you would be the nice thing to do," he replied. "What happened to your phone?"

 

"I think I dropped it in the first quake," Aizawa mused, tapping numbers into the call pad. "It's probably still in the common room."

 

"You'd better hope so," Hizashi grinned slightly. "I don't think they even sell the model you have anymore."

 

Aizawa snorted, holding the phone to his ear.

 

"You're okay though?" Hizashi went on to continue, his voice dropping slightly. 

 

"I'm okay," Aizawa replied, the ringing of the phone stopping just in time. “Hello? It's Shota."

 

"Shota! You're okay!" his mother's voice cried from the other side of the line. Her voice got quieter with the next sentence as she turned away from the receiver. "Junichiro. He's okay!"

 

"Of course I'm okay," Aizawa growled, almost regretting his decision to phone them. "Are you?"

 

"Yes! There was just a tremor over here," his mother replied quickly. "We were watching on the news! You weren't on patrol were you? You were in UA? We heard it was safer there. Are Hizashi and Nemuri okay?"

 

"Hold on," Aizawa grumbled. "Too many questions."

 

"Well I suppose it doesn't matter if you're all alright," his mother replied. "You are all alright aren't you? You're not just lying for our sakes?"

 

Aizawa held his hand over the speaker, turning towards Hizashi who was grinning at him, thoroughly amused. 

 

"Nemuri?" he mouthed. Hizashi nodded immediately. 

 

"She's fine," he confirmed, Aizawa pressed his ear back up to the phone.

 

"Everyone's okay," he replied. “And no, I’m not lying to you."

 

"Thank goodness!" his mother cried, a little too enthusiastically. "Talk to your father would you?"

 

Aizawa heard his father off to the side, already imagining his arms waving around in protest.

 

"Aiya! It's okay! Leave the boy to do his job..." 

 

"Don't be so rude Junichiro! Shota would love to-"

 

Nope. Shota would not love to. 

 

"I have to go," Aizawa interrupted her. "I'm needed. I'll phone you back tomorrow or something."

 

"Oh are you sure?" his mother began to ask. "Not one or two words..?"

 

"Sorry. Love you. Bye."

 

Aizawa hung up the call before he could get forced into anymore unnecessary conversation. 

 

His parents were okay.

 

They were okay.

 

Hizashi watched on, amused as Aizawa handed the phone back. 

 

"That was cute."

 

"Fuck off."

 

--

 

"My hair straighteners are broken!” 

 

Back in dorms, Jiro’s cry rang across the common room as the girl came storming in holding the appliance in one hand. 

 

“Which bag do I bin it in?” she asked, looking across to where Aizawa was clearing glass from the kitchen surface. 

 

“Err... any of the black bags,” he motioned as he scooped glass into a dustpan. 

 

The UA grounds remained standing. The gyms opened up their doors for a few days after the quake to offer protection to people who's houses had been worse off. After students had been allowed to see their families, classes were cancelled for the rest of the week. But for the first day, it mostly involved the students salvaging what they could from their rooms. 

 

And holding funerals for all six of Koda's fish. 

 

Bakugou had tried to flush them down the toilet, but that hadn't gone down well. 

 

Class 1A had the Friday off lesson to clear up their dorms. It turned out there wasn’t too much broken. The odd ornament here and there, the TV, that was the biggest loss. All of the light fixtures needed replacing and everything needed reorganising into place. 

 

Jiro’s hair straighteners being broken was actually an odd one. 

 

“You can borrow mine,” Yaoyorozu offered, walking into the room behind her and setting down two more bin bags to the pile. 

 

“How much was broken?” Aizawa asked warily. 

 

“Not too much,” Yaoyorozu shrugged. “I think because I live on the top floor. A lot smashed but my clothes and shoes are fine!” 

 

Priorities . 

 

“Sensei, nothing was broken in my room apart from the lights. Is there anything else I can do?” Shoji asked, walking into the common room, yawning slightly. 

 

“That’s because there’s nothing in your room,” Jiro sulked, her bottom lip sticking out. 

 

“Need any help?” Shoji offered in reply. 

 

Jiro shook her head, walking off. Shoji watched her go, his face screwed up into a frown. 

 

“Her hair straighteners broke,” Aizawa explained, watching his students expression. 

 

“Oh. I’ll offer her mine,” Shoji replied with a shrug.

 

“Yours?” Aizawa asked, amused. 

 

“My hair is naturally… wavy,” Shoji admitted, his face turning pink as he bowed slightly, excusing himself from the conversation. He turned to walk out of the room, stopping short. “Hey… Midoryia. Want any help with your room..?”

 

Aizawa looked across to the sofa’s, spotting a tuft of green hair straight across from him. The hair moved slightly, looking up in Shoji’s direction. 

 

“No… I’m going to go through it later.”

 

Aizawa paced across the common area, leaning over the sofa towards the teenager in question. 

 

“Problem child. What are you doing?”

 

Midoryia was quick to jump out of his skin, pulling down on his headphones and hiding his phone underneath one thigh.

 

“Give me your phone,” Aizawa instructed with a sigh. “This isn’t free time. You all have to move back into dorms tonight which means you need a place to sleep .”

 

“Sorry Sensei…” Midoryia replied quietly, making no attempt to move. Shoji backed away awkwardly, throwing Midoryia an apologetic glance. 

 

“Phone,” Aizawa pressed, holding his hand out and waiting. 

 

Midoryia didn’t argue any further. He handed the phone over, unplugging the headphones and twisting the handset around. He attempted to click the lock screen off but his finger missed the button, hands clawing for the handset as Aizawa lifted it out of reach. 

 

“No, no, no wait!” 

 

Aizawa turned the phone over in his hand, catching a glimpse of the video playing on the screen. 

 

“Midoryia…” 

 

“I just wanted to check up on stuff! The situation!” 

 

“This. Is not helpful,” Aizawa warned him, twisting the phone around to show the screen. An old news report from 2011 played back, describing the Tōhoku earthquake. The 15,900 dead. The 2,500 missing. 

 

“It is!” Midoryia protested quickly, his hands reaching up for the phone once more. Aizawa pulled it out of reach. 

 

“Both Ashido and Asui have family members injured from the quake,” Aizawa started carefully. “What do you think their reactions would be if they saw you watching this?” 

 

“I would never show them anything!” Midoryia snapped back. Defensive now that Aizawa had questioned his morals. 

 

“Midoryia, don’t speak to me in that tone,” Aizawa replied. There was clearly more to it but Aizawa wasn’t in a position to go investigating right at that moment in time. It was probably the fact that his mother was still out of town. Nothing more. 

 

Besides, she was getting the bullet train back tomorrow. 

 

He clicked the phone shut, sliding it into his utility belt. “It’s confiscated until the end of the day,”

 

All at once Midoryia’s face became instantly panicked, his eyes welling up as he turned around furiously, kneeling up onto the sofa. 

 

“What if my mum phones?!”

 

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed.

 

“I’ll have it by my side,” Aizawa replied. “If it goes off I’ll make sure to find you in time.”

 

Midoryia’s mouth opened once more but he luckily decided not to argue anymore with his homeroom teacher. 

 

“Room. Tidy. Go ,” Aizawa repeated. “Shoji will help you.”

 

“Yeah, of course!” Shoji smiled, seeming relived for something to do in the situation rather than to watch it all unfold. 

 

Aizawa turned swiftly away to the sofa’s leaving no room for discussion. He was too tired. Too tired for-

 

“Eraserhead!” 

 

A whisper grabbed his attention, coming from the doorway of the kitchen. Aizawa looked up to see Yagi in the frame, beckoning him with one hand. 

 

Aizawa sighed. 

 

Really ?

 

— 

 

“You’re needed in Kanagawa?” Aizawa asked, confused. 

 

Yagi, who was now perched on a chair in Aizawa’s, room, nodded. He hadn’t had time to clear the space after the earthquake yet. 

 

“What for ?”

 

“…Well-” 

 

“Sorry that was insensitive of me,” Aizawa sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I’m tired.”

 

“No, no! It’s no deal!” Yagi reassured him, his arms coming up to wave him away. “I was surprised as well… but no, they would like me to show my face. Endeavour is busy doing, well doing the real hero work.”

 

“Helping to lift the spirits of those in need is real hero work,” Aizawa interrupted without thinking. 

 

Yagi looked up at him for a moment, his expression dropping slightly, eyes growing wider. For a moment it reminded Aizawa of Midoryia but he pushed the thought from his mind. The last thing he wanted to think about right now was Midoryia . 

 

“Thank you.”

 

Yagi spoke earnestly. Aizawa half-smiled back at him but left it at that. Any more would be too fake. 

 

“What do you need while you’re gone?” Aizawa asked, picking the conversation back up before it could get too heartfelt. “I assume that’s why you’re here.”

 

“Ah yes. I’m afraid the topic might be a little…” Yagi looked away for a moment. “How can I put it? Self-indulgent..?”

 

“It’s about Midoriya,” Aizawa replied, the moment gone. 

 

“You gathered..?”

 

“Lucky guess,” Aizawa drawled, the sarcasm lost on the former number one hero. “What’s up with him?” 

 

Yagi frowned slightly. 

 

“Well, apart from the obvious,” Aizawa added. 

 

“He just seems worried, that’s all. Anxious.”

 

“You’re kidding me? You came up here to tell me that?!” Aizawa found himself biting back. “I have the entirety of 1A upstairs, anxious . Hell! I think the entirety of the prefecture is anxious .” 

 

“Maybe my worries have been misplaced...” Yagi admitted nervously. It was clear the man was still worried for his student his body language was obnoxiously clear about that. Aizawa just didn’t get it. 

 

No, he found it selfish . 

 

“Midoryia is fine ,” Aizawa stated, feeling his breathing quicken slightly, adrenaline rushing to his tired brain. “As fine as someone who’s recently just been caught up in an Earthquake can be fine. If you’re worried, go pay him a visit, he’s in his room. Try saying hi to a few other students whilst you’re at it.” 

 

Yagi raised an eyebrow at him but not unkindly, standing from his place and brushing himself down. 

 

“I see,” he replied, his tone hushed. 

 

There was a moment's pause. Aizawa sighed, rubbing his eyes. Trying to avoid the former pro’s gaze. 

 

He would up and leave the situation if they weren’t in his room. 

 

“Did you want to grab a drink?” Yagi’s voice softly interrupting his thoughts. “I can supervise here. I’ve heard they’ve got the coffee machine working again.” 

 

Something inside Aizawa perked up but he didn’t want to give in. Yagi wasn’t trying to be condescending, but Jesus he wished the man would argue back for once. 

 

This was probably what Bakugou felt like on the daily. 

 

“Go on,” Yagi coaxed him. “I’m not that bad of a teacher.”

 

“You are,” Aizawa muttered, turning to leave. Luckily Yagi chuckled slightly, his eyes twinkling playfully. 

 

“There’s seventeen in your class right?” 

 

Aizawa didn’t mean to crack a smile but he did. 

 

—

 

Out of everything that had gone missing during the earthquake, including his phone which he still could not find, somehow all of Aizawa’s loose change had clung onto the bottom of his pocket. 

 

Because that was useful. 

 

He heard the clink of metal on metal as the coins dropped into the bottom of the machine. Tapping on the keypad, a code he’d committed to memory a long time ago. 

 

15D

 

Canned black coffee. 

 

Perfect. 

 

He dropped the rest of his yen back into his pocket, his hand brushing against Midoryia’s phone. 

 

On instinct he pulled it out, flipping over the screen and watching as the group chat messages popped up. It took a few seconds to remember that it wasn’t his phone. 

 

No. He was not going to look at a group chat comprised of his first years. 

 

Aizawa flipped the phone over to the screen over once more. 

 

1A (is the best class) Group Chat  

1:47 pm - Lord Explosion Murder 🔥

I bet All Might’s only up here to use Deku’s head like a fucking buttplu-

 

Nope. 

 

Aizawa dropped the phone back into his pocket and tried to erase the last few seconds of his memory. Instead, he pulled the can out of the machine, clicking it open as he re-entered the corridor. 

 

Hopefully, this would wake him up somewhat. 

 

He passed the stairway, looking across out the window at Tokyo city. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, the sun beating down on the fields. Not a cloud in the sky. 

 

A flash of purple hair caused him to look up once more, his eyes widening as he spotted red. 

 

“Shinsou?” 

 

His student turned back on himself, facing Aizawa. One eye looking back up at him. 

 

The other was half shut, a large gash on Shinsou’s forehead spilling blood over the top of his eyebrow. 

 

“Sensei,” he replied as if nothing was particularly out of the ordinary. 

 

“What happened?” Aizawa asked quickly, striding over to the teenager, pulling the hair away from his face to get a better look. 

 

Shinsou startled slightly but let Aizawa keep a hand on his hair to stop the strands from falling back into place. 

 

“There was a bookcase,” he replied, bowing slightly. Aizawa pulled his head back up. “It fell on me.”

 

“Today?” Aizawa frowned. The cut was reasonably deep, deep enough that it had needed stitches at one point, Aizawa could see where they’d ripped. Not today then. 

 

“Last night,” Shinsou confirmed his thoughts. “It was going to fall on Agoyamato and Togeike so I stepped in the way of it. Held it up for a bit so they could get out. I sort of dropped it funny I guess.”

 

“Heroic of you,” Aizawa mused, enjoying watching the grin appear on Shinsou’s face. 

 

“Looks it as well right?” his student joked, one hand pointing up at the blood. Aizawa frowned. “Nah... I guess I overdid it today helping to clear up dorms. Recovery Girl was swamped last night so I didn’t get a chance to get it healed.”

 

“But you’re going to now,” Aizawa prompted. 

 

“Yeah. I’m going to now,” Shinsou grinned. 

 

“Good. Don’t lose too much blood and faint on the way,” Aizawa replied. It was a joke. Kind of. 

 

“I won’t,” Shinsou assured him, a hand coming up to rest just behind his head. “I got off lightly in my class anyway, thanks to the training.” 

 

Aizawa nodded, not giving too much thought to the rest of Class C. Not that he didn’t care as such it was just that Shinsou was-

 

The image of Yagi sitting in his room and asking after Midoryia flashed through his mind. 

 

Git. 

 

“I’m glad you got to use your training,” Aizawa replied. “I don’t know when we’ll next have a chance to meet up thanks to this earthquake, I’ll get in touch.”

 

“You can Line me,” Shinsou shrugged casually. 

 

Aizawa wondered if it was too casually. He tried to recall some of Midoryia and All Might's interactions in his head. 

 

Okay, he was definitely overthinking this now. 

 

“Thank you Sensei,” Shinsou added, bowing properly this time. Aizawa nodded in his direction and watched the boy turn off towards the infirmary. 

 

He shook himself slightly, downing the rest of the coffee in one go. 

 

—

‘Flooding expected to continue in the further southern regions of Japan for the next few days although it’s effects seem to be less severe than anticipated following the recent earthquake around the Tokyo region…’

 

Aizawa flicked through the television channels before landing on the news. Hizashi splayed on the sofa beside him and Nemuri was in his bathroom. Doing some sort of makeup removing routine or something. Aizawa wasn’t exactly sure what. He was more of a ‘bare minimum’ kind of guy.

 

Hizashi’s house still hadn’t been cleared and his radio station hadn’t been opened up for work yet either. So the previous night the man had insisted on bringing all of his DJ equipment to the UA dorms and setting it up in Aizawa’s room. Then hosting his radio station from there on the Friday night broadcast. 

 

Aizawa hadn’t wanted to murder someone more than he did Hizashi. 

 

Luckily, the only thing left to do on the Saturday was to help the students return to their families for a long weekend off. So missing a nights sleep was almost acceptable. 

 

Hizashi ended up being so loud that a few of 1A ended up listening to the show from outside the door. That was until Aizawa caught them against his doorframe. 

 

Somehow, against his nature, instead of sending them back to bed, he’d let them into his dorm. Ending up with twenty teenagers huddled up on his bed by half one in the morning listening to the show. 

 

Even more miraculously, Todoroki had been the one to fall asleep first, huddled up between Aizawa’s bedframe and Midoryia’s thigh. 

 

Well… there were no classes the next day anyway. 

“Ow!” 

 

“What did you do?” Aizawa called in the direction of the bathroom. Nemuri poked her head around the door. 

 

“Sorry! I’m just popping spots!”

 

“Disgusting,” Aizawa remarked. “Stop doing that in my bathroom. Why are you still here anyway?”

 

“Not sure,” Nemuri called back. “Can I stay the night?” 

 

Aizawa sighed. Deeply. 

 

He couldn’t be bothered to argue.

 

--

 

‘More delays have occurred across the Southern region of Japan affecting major lines to and from the capital city due to a fallen tree on the rail line…’ 

 

“That’s annoying,” Nemuri commented, overhearing the news report as she clicked the bathroom light off, coming to sit beside Aizawa. 

 

“Oi. Personal space,” Aizawa hissed as she sat one leg over his, hooking her feet over his. “Go annoy Hizashi.”

 

“No! He’s sleeping so peacefully!” Nemuri cooed. Aizawa rolled his eyes, trying to focus on the news of all things and not how close his best friends chest was to his face. 

 

He wasn’t interested. But temptation made him want to cast his eyes downwards and that would earn him the slap he really didn’t want. Especially because the rest of him was still sort of aching from falling with Midoryia.

 

‘Bullet trains have been cancelled across the area and the chances of them coming back on service this weekend is low.’

 

Something about the news was causing his chest to tighten. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. 

 

‘Some people have been complaining due to the lack of action being taken. Right now, we’re talking to the head of ACP rail-‘

 

“Shame about all the families that won’t be able to see each other,” Nemuri mused. 

 

Aizawa’s heartbeat rose slightly. 

 

“Especially right after the earthquake,” she continued thoughtfully. 

 

Yagi’s face popped into his mind. First Yagi’s and then-

 

“I have to go do something,” Aizawa announced, getting up and pushing Nemuri’s legs out of the way in the process. 

 

“Shota? What’s up?” Nemuri cried, Hizashi stirring slightly next to her.

 

“Spare keys are on the side if you want to go out, eat whatever you want, don’t drink my coffee,” Aizawa replied. “I might have Midoryia with me when I get back.”

 

“Cute,” Nemuri remarked. “Be safe.”

 

Aizawa nodded slightly, slipping his capture weapon over his head. He was about to step through the door when he stopped, turning sharply. 

 

“Oh and one other thing.”

 

“Yes?” Nemuri asked, frowning slightly.

 

“Don’t watch porn on my wifi. UA monitors everything.”

 

“Based on experience I gather,” Nemuri grinned, Aizaw a glared at her before leaving. 

 

“No. I know what you’re like… Oh, fuck off!”

 

Hizashi finally stirred at that, rubbing his eyes as he yawned, the door slamming. 

 

“Wah..? Where did he go?” he murmured, sitting up beside Nemuri. 

 

“Something to do with Midoryia,” Nemuri shrugged. “He told us not to watch porn . Just incase Nezu sees it or something equally as hilarious.”

 

“Did he tell us not to watch porn or did he tell you not to watch porn?” Hizashi grinned. Nemuri looked at him confused for a moment before catching on, her eyes widening. 

 

“You’re going to hell,” she giggled.

 

“Quick! Think of the worst video that comes to mind,” Hizashi laughed, picking up the remote. 

 

“Why me?” Nemuri asked.

 

“I know what you’re like.”

 

—

 

Gliding over buildings with ease, Aizawa noted just how deserted Tokyo looked. Earthquakes were usually a time when crime hit an all-round high. Some took advantage of the fact that the city was in disarray. This was mostly petty theft and minor crimes. Shops were left unattended and alarms were already set off. Not to mention that the pros were mostly too busy to attend to minor crimes. 

 

It was the coward's version of being a villain. 

 

Aizawa usually opted out of patrol when major incidents happened. He didn’t care for fighting villains that weren’t interesting in taking things seriously. 

 

He assumed most people would go back to their families or stay inside. He didn’t really understand those who wouldn’t. Unless of course, they didn’t have a family. Or had to work. 

 

Maybe that’s why, with UA’s hectic schedule, Nemuri and Hizashi were currently sitting in the UA dorms rather than their own flats. 

 

And that was probably why Aizawa had to listen to four hours of terrible radio hosting from Hizashi that last night. 

 

His friends were, in a sense, his family.

And that was maybe, well probably , the reason why he was following google maps to Midoryia’s house. 

 

Also because who knew what the problem child would do whilst left alone. 

 

It was only as he was jumping down onto the balcony of the apartment building that Aizawa realised that he’d never visited Midoryia’s house. During the house visits, Yagi had gone alone. Unprofessional maybe, but the former pro had seemed set on it. Almost as if he had something more to say.

 

235, 237, 239… 

 

Aizawa paced down the row of apartments before coming to the one he’d seen on Midoryia’s file.

 

Flat 241. 

 

He knocked without giving much further thought and replaced his phone in his pocket. It looked like a nice neighbourhood, just off the back of where he remembered Bakugou to live with a play park dividing the two. 

 

Shuffling from behind the door brought his attention to the present, a light coming on, a few locks clicking off before-

 

Midoryia opened the door wide, his eyes wider and filled with concern. Aizawa gave a small nod to the boy, trying not to give over the wrong impression. 

 

“A-Aizawa Sensei..?” Midoryia stuttered, bowing slightly, his mouth gaping open. 

 

Aizawa sometimes wondered if Midoryia still believed that teachers slept at school.

 

Oh right. He did. 

 

“Your mum's train will have been cancelled,” Aizawa replied, getting straight to the point so as not to worry the teenager. Midoryia took a breath as if to say something but ended up reaching into his back pocket, dragging out his phone instead. 

 

“It’s nearly eleven?!” he cried, looking down at the screen. “Oh… she texted me…”

 

“Saying..?” Aizawa prompted. 

 

“She’s getting on a night bus,” Midoryia replied, his tone dampened slightly. “But she’ll be here by tomorrow morning! Oh, seven am ..? I have so much to do..!”

 

“What have you been doing?” Aizawa asked. 

 

“Well… I was getting dinner ready for my mum and tidying up a bit, but then I guess I fell asleep…” Midoryia replied sheepishly, his hand coming up to scratch behind his head, further messing up his ‘bed hair’. “Did you want to come in..?”

 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Aizawa drawled, stepping over the threshold and into the Midoryia household. “As your teacher, I’m not sure how comfortable I feel with you being on your own overnight. Especially as we only sent you off of UA grounds to go visit family.”

 

“Oh… right,” Midoryia replied. “Does that mean I have to come back..?”

 

He certainly seemed calmer, maybe because he was still tired. Aizawa was halfway through kicking off his shoes when Midoryia turned, his hands shaking. 

 

“No, no, no! Keep them on!” he protested. 

 

“That would be disrespectful,” Aizawa pointed out, stopping all the same. 

 

“Oh it’s okay, it’s just that there’s kind of glass all over the floor…” his student explained, motioning down the hallway. “Especially in the living room.”

 

“You’re only wearing socks,” Aizawa stated, an eyebrow raised. “Are you cut repellant or something?” 

 

“Oh no, no! I just know where the glass is..!” Midoryia replied quickly. 

 

Always thinking of others before himself. Typical. 

 

Admirable . 

 

“Put some slippers on,” Aizawa instructed, shoving his foot back into his own shoe and mentally reminding himself to clean the floors. Outdoor shoes, inside. It felt weird.

 

Midoryia nodded slightly and ran off in the direction that Aizawa assumed was his room. He looked around the hallway, noting the various pictures of Midoryia and his mum growing up. He’d only met Inko once, that was on the day that the class had moved into dorms, and apart from the formal ‘thank you for looking after my son’ exchange she almost had seemed scared of him. 

 

He guessed he kind of had that effect. 

 

One picture that caught his eye was of Midoryia and his mother, sitting in some sort of park, Tokyo Disney or something like that. Inko looked a lot thinner, carefree but still with the same noticeable wobble in her lip. Midoriyia was a scruffy five-or-so-year-old, All Might t-shirt on and beaming at the camera. His arm hooked around someone who looked an awful lot like another one of Aizawa’s students.

 

“Oh, you can go through,” Midoryia said, reentering the hallway complete with a pair of All Might bunny ear slippers, well obviously , and a jumper which he slipped over his head. 

 

“You’ve always been All Might obsessed, huh?” Aizawa asked, motioning to one of the pictures in the hallway. Midoryia followed his eye line, his cheeks blushing. 

 

“Oh… yeah,” he ginned. “That was at the All Might event at Disney!” 

 

“Is that Bakugou?” Aizawa continued, pointing to the second kid in the image. 

 

“Yeah! His mum got tickets from the place that she worked and she had some spares so she gave two to me for my birthday,” Midoryia replied, the story causing a notable glimmer in his eye. “It was one of the best birthdays ever.”

 

“Bakugou seems like he’s enjoying himself,” Aizawa remarked sarcastically. Midoryia laughed hollowly, smiling just as wide all the same. 

 

“Bakugou didn’t really like me back then,” Midoryia explained. “This was just after his quirk manifested.”

 

“You don’t have any pictures of your dad,” Aizawa commented before he had time to properly think the words through in his head. “Ah… no… I didn’t mean-”

 

“It’s okay,” Midoryia replied, shrugging slightly, a sad smile drawn across his face. “He works abroad a lot so I’ve never really met him…”

 

“...At all?” Aizawa asked, not wanting to close his student off but at the same time curiosity and sleep deprivation getting the better of him.

 

“No, not that I can really remember,” Midoryia replied. “But he still helps out! With rent and stuff.”

 

“It’s a shame that you can’t ask for his help with your quirk,” Aizawa commented, trying to steer away from the darker realities of the topic. 

 

“My quirk?” Midoryia asked, more confused than Aizawa was anticipating, the boy's emotions etched across his features. 

 

“I remember your mother has a quirk that can float objects towards her so I assumed-”

 

“Oh! No!” Midoryia smiled, his normal demeanour returning as he grinned at his homeroom teacher. “He can breathe fire.”

 

Now it was Aizawa’s turn to look confused. 

 

“Breathe fire..?”

 

“I know!” Midoryia laughed, somewhat nervously. “My quirk is kind of an... abnormality I guess..!”

 

“You don’t say,” Aizawa replied thoughtfully as Midoryia ducked around him, leading him around to the living room. 

 

Aizawa wasn’t one to speculate but it almost seemed as if Midoryia’s mum. Had an affair..? 

 

But, like…

 

With All Might.

 

Aizawa could have laughed out loud. 

 

Ridiculous thought. Seemed there was more to quirks then even he knew about. 

 

“Oh, it’s still kind of messy in here… I’m really sorry,” Midoryia said as he led Aizawa through into the open plan living and kitchen room. 

 

Kind of messy was an understatement.

 

The coffee table was flipped over, glass swept across the floor and made into little piles. The television had made it out alive but it was leaning off of its counter precariously, the remotes and DVD’s scattered across the floor. 

 

And among it all, the kitchen table stood, perfectly made with cutlery out, food on the table. Katsudon Aizawa believed, but he could be wrong.

 

“Was this the earthquake?” he asked, stating the obvious.

 

“I… forgot that it would be like this when I got back,” Midoryia admitted quietly as he climbed across the sofa in an attempt to get to the kitchen. “I wanted to tidy up before she got back but…”

 

“You fell asleep,” Aizawa finished for him, turning to his student before leaning down to push the sofa back into place in order to get into the kitchen himself.

 

“I managed to make her room up but the earthquake broke… this .”

 

Midoryia held up, what looked to be a piece of a vase from the kitchen counter. Aizawa took a seat at the table

 

“It was her grandma’s…” he explained. “I found the superglue but my right hand isn’t steady enough.”

 

“From your fight with Todoroki?” Aizawa asked, referring to the sports festive with some surprise. That was at least seven months ago now.

 

“Yeah,” Midoryia shrugged. “My hand is fine, it’s just some of these pieces are really small.”

 

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed as Midoryia stared at the vase, yawning before pouting slightly. 

 

“Do you want a drink?” he asked, looking up and replacing the piece of vase back down on the counter. 

 

“Coffee,” Aizawa replied quickly. 

 

“But it’s nearly midnight,” Midoryia stated. 

 

“Your mum’s coming back at seven in the morning right?” Aizawa asked. Midoryia nodded quickly. “Then this place needs sorting out.”

 

The kid’s eyes widening and his jaw-dropping almost exceeded the reaction Aizawa was hoping for.

 

“You mean… you’ll help me..?” he asked as if in disbelief. It was almost as if Aizawa had given him a damn hero licence.

 

“It would be something nice for her, yes?” Aizawa replied. Midoryia nodded enthusiastically, bowing as he did. The kettle whistled behind him. “You’d better sleep though. So you’re not too tired tomorrow.”

 

“Oh no, it’s okay!” Midoryia replied quickly. Too quickly. “I’m not tired anymore and I couldn’t leave you to clean my house on your own!”

 

Aizawa wanted to argue but instinct told him not to. Chances were the kid would fall asleep again as they tidied. Besides, the company was nice. 

 

“Want do you want to do with this?” Aizawa motioned to the Katsudon as Midoryia carefully carried over a mug of coffee, placing it down in front of the pro. 

 

“I guess… Well, it’s not really breakfast food is it?” he asked. “Are you hungry?” 

 

Aizawa smiled slightly. 

 

“Midnight snack?” he reasoned with a grin.

 

-- 

 

“We’ll start with the living room,” Aizawa motioned as he passed an empty bowl over to Midoryia. The boy took it, running it under the sink and nodding. 

 

The food had been good. Really good. The kind of home cooking that Aizawa hadn’t since his parents had come down for New Years. He made a mental note in his head to add the ingredients to 1A’s shopping list so Midoryia could make it as a meal for them. Maybe in place of some of the other students cooking. 

 

Ashido .

 

“Do you have something like a dustpan and brush?” Aizawa asked, tucking his chair into the table and straightening out the tablecloth slightly. 

 

“Yeah!” Midoryia replied cheerfully and reaching under the sink, pulling out an old and rather worn dustpan set. He handed it over the table, going to grab the bin as he did. “I can finish off putting the furniture back and all the books on the bookcase.”

 

Aizawa nodded, walking back around to the living area and reaching down to sweep away the first lot of glass. The two continued to work together in palatable silence, Aizawa stealing glances at the problem child when he could. 

 

Midoryia did look a lot calmer than he had in the last couple of days. He looked tired but contented. Straightening picture frames, flicking through old books. 

 

The clock clicked on towards 1 am. 

 

Bending down to sweep up the last pile of debris from the living room, Aizawa’s knee fell on something hard causing him to hiss under his breath. 

 

The TV immediately blared, a 24-hour news channel at high volume lighting the room up like siren. It seemed to have that effect anyway. Aizawa nearly jumped out of his skin, but Midoryia paled instantly, dropping the book he was holding, reaching around for his phone. 

 

Aizawa reached under his legs and pulled out the remote he’d accidentally leaned against. He muted the channel before the offending noise could wake up any of his student's neighbours, reaching across for Midoryia who was still in panic mode. 

 

“Hey, kid. It’s a recap. It’s not happening right now,” he stated as gently as he could manage, grabbing the teenager by the shoulders. Midoryia was breathing hard, his face resolute. 

 

“It is..?” he asked, twisting around back to the television screen. 

 

“It is,” Aizawa repeated. “You okay?”

 

Midoryia nodded, his features tight. The calm from before vanished. 

 

“Sorry…” he eventually replied. “I guess I got carried away. I was reading this,” 

 

Midoryia leant out of his homeroom teachers grip and pulled across the book he’d dropped. 

 

The Tokyo Bosi booklet - a manga preparing citizens of Japan for an earthquake. 

 

Aizawa sighed slightly, looking around the living room. Apart from a few belongings scattered across the floor and the desire for the place to be vacuumed, something Aizawa wasn’t going to do in the middle of the night, it looked okay.

 

He flicked the TV off and placed the remote on the coffee table, picking up the dustpan. 

 

“Come on kid,” he ushered, standing. “Grab me the superglue. We’ll go fix that vase.”

 

--

 

“Aizawa-Sensei?” 

 

Aizawa looked up slightly from where he was fixing two shards of the vase together. Midoryia was on ‘jigsaw duty’, finding which broken pieces went with which, and Aizawa was on ‘glueing duty’, which was more or less self-explanatory. 

 

It was now fast approaching two in the morning but Aizawa finally had the clues to why his student wasn’t sleeping. Midoryia just didn't want to be alone. 

 

And just because Aizawa craved his own alone time, didn’t mean that he didn't get it. Besides, keeping his student company was an easy solution. And glueing a vase back together wasn’t a completely mind-numbing task.

 

“Yes?” Aizawa replied when it became apparent that Midoryia wasn’t going to ask his question unless he was prompted. 

 

“What are your parents like?” 

 

The question surprised the pro, just a little. Midoryia was an inquisitive kid, but he wasn’t one to ask questions left wing. He seemed to know that as well, stuttering a little over his justification.

 

“I just wanted to know because, well, I was thinking about your quirk and all pro hero’s quirks and what their parents must have been,”

 

Aizawa grinned slightly. The smile on his mums face if she knew his students were asking after her…

 

“My mother has a quirk where she can send silk out through her hands,” Aizawa replied, watching the information swirling around in Midoryia’s head.

 

“Like… Spiderman?” he finally asked. 

 

“I guess so,” Aizawa nodded, holding the two pieces of vase together so that they’d set. 

 

“So did she help you with your capture weapon?” Midoryia continued, mentally taking notes. 

 

“No, by the time I was getting support items I was already in UA,” Aizawa replied, the corners of his mouth twitching as a memory started forming in the back of his mind. “I remember when I brought it home though, she had a go on it, she was unsurprisingly pretty good at it… She wove some of her own silk into a few versions of it as well. Purely for the sentiment, it didn’t do anything.”

 

“Wow!” Midoryia breathed. “That’s so cool!”

 

“You think so kid?” 

 

Midoryia nodded enthusiastically, pushing a few pieces of vase across the table.

 

“What about your dad?”

 

“We have the same quirk,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“That’s quite rare,” Midoryia commented thoughtfully. 

 

As if he could talk.

 

“Can you erase each other’s erasure then?” the teenager continued. Aizawa nodded, setting down two pieces of vase and picking up another.

 

“We can but it hurts a lot,” he replied. “Like a really bad migraine.” 

 

“Do you think if someone copied your quirk then they could use it to erase your erasure?” Midoryia continued. “Like Monoma?”

 

“Most likely,” Aizawa mused, making a mental note for himself . “It would probably have the same effects though. Also useless in a one on one fight, that’s just levelling the playing field.”

 

“Good point…” Midoryia agreed, lost in thought. “You’re parents are cool.”

 

“I’ll tell them that,” Aizawa teased, yawning slightly.

 

“Are they okay after the earthquake?” Midoryia asked after a moment, his eye line down, intently trying to slot two pieces of ceramic together. 

 

“They live out of the area,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Oh, that’s really lucky.”

 

“But, even still, I was scared for them,” Aizawa continued, glancing across at Midoryia, who was still staring downwards. “It’s natural to be.”

 

“I know,” Midoryia replied, his hands fiddling with the vase. “Do you think about them when you have to… be a hero in a crisis like that?”

 

“As in, do I get scared for them when I know I can’t be there?” Aizawa asked, getting to the point. 

 

This time Midoryia did look up, his face twisting to one side awkwardly. 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Always,” Aizawa replied. “But I just try and remind myself that there are pro heroes everywhere, taking care of everyone. Besides, I’m sure our parents are more scared for us then we are for them. Your mother wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

 

Nor would All Might.

 

“I wouldn’t know what to do without her,” Midoryia admitted. “We’re really close and I don’t really have anyone else like that…”

 

“All Might?” Aizawa pointed out before he could stop himself. Midoryia turned red slightly, his arms flailing as he tripped over his words.

 

“Oh. Well, I guess, but he’s just my mentor and he really cares but he’d probably see that as a bit different. He isn’t married or anything so I don’t know if he even wants kids or see’s anyone like that-”

 

“I think he fancies himself as a father figure from time to time,” Aizawa replied, looking up at Midoryia, happy to see a smile growing across his features. 

 

“I think he’d make a great father,” the teenager grinned. “Not that someone needs a dad… I mean like in Todoroki’s case-”

 

“Todoroki’s case?” Aizawa interrupted him. 

 

“Well I’d rather have no father than a father who hurts my mother,” Midoryia replied, his tone deepening before catching a look at Aizawa’s face. “Ah! I’m sorry! That was probably out of line to say…”

 

“We’re not in class,” Aizawa reminded him. “You can say what you like.”

 

“Oh, Well… What do you think of Endeavour?”  Midoryia asked, looking up at his homeroom teacher, eyes curious. 

 

“Nice try,” Aizawa grinned before yawning once more. 

 

“Are you tired?’ Midoryia asked, changing the subject. “You don’t have to stay all night…”

 

Aizawa looked up at his student for a moment before smiling softly. 

 

“Make me another coffee,” he said simply. “I’m finishing the vase. Then we’re getting your room sorted, then we can talk about sleep.”

 

Midoryia’s eyes grew wide again. Aizawa wasn’t sentimental but he could tell the kid knew what he was trying to say. 

 

“Yes sensei,” he replied.

Notes:

I'm a week ahead of writing so I can tell you that next weeks chapter will be based around the headcanons of Bakugou being hearing-impaired and Hagakure sight-impaired :)

Thank you all for your continued support! If you want to plug your fics down below I'd love to read! x

Chapter 47: Communication Helps

Summary:

In which Bakugou breaks a hearing aid and then gets paired with the fucking invisible girl out of everyone in 1A.

Brilliant.

Like she has a clue...

Notes:

Hey guys! Happy Friday!!

First note - PROMPTS ARE CLOSING SO I WON'T BE TAKING ANYMORE FOR A WHILE!!!
I've had so so many brilliant ideas and prompts and I can't wait to write them but I currently have enough to last me the rest of this year haha!!! But thank you, so so much x

This chapter itself was prompted by Rebbor (for Bakugou) and Asophogus (for Hagakure) !! Thank you so much lads! I hope I do it justice! x

Bakugou woke up to the sound of his alarm clock. Blaring. Obnoxiously. Sounding as if it was underwater somehow.

 

He threw one arm across to bat at it on top of the bedside table, eventually hitting the button and stopping the clock mid-ring. 

 

6:31 am. 

 

Bakugou hated setting alarms for even numbers. 

 

Sighing deeply, he rubbed his eyes, lazily swinging his legs out of the covers, trying to ignore the faint buzzing in his left ear. 

 

Dammit… did he..?

 

Lifting one hand up to the side of his head confirmed his thought. 

 

He did… 

 

Wiggling his feet to get some feeling back into them, he eventually stood. The sunlight was just starting to hit his room, creating shadows on the floor, warming up the floorboards. 

 

Today was going to be sweaty .

 

He pulled the curtains across, eyes narrowing at the sudden bright light, thinking about the fact that it was at least Friday. No hero class, but at least PE was second period and then art just before lunch. He almost liked art. 

 

Bakugou yawned, resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to actually get ready for school at some point. Wondering whether he could get away with no tie or would Aizawa actually kill him… when he stepped back and onto something hard.

 

C-crunch.

 

Even with the persistent buzzing in his ear, he knew exactly what that sound meant. 

 

Lifting his foot up and looking down carefully, his eyes were met with the two halves of his hearing aid. Perfectly broken down the middle with the force of his fucking foot. 

 

“You fucking bastard ass-” 

 

Bakugou could feel the tension beginning to rise in his chest, but he suffocated it immediately. Racking his brain for a solution. His voice already sounded as if it was underwater.

 

He didn’t have a spare. His mum could probably get him one, but this was the fourth hearing aid he’d broken since New Year. Knowing her, his fifth hearing aid would probably come with some permanent brain damage or something. 

 

It wasn’t unlike Bakugou to take his hearing aids out in the middle of the night. Sometimes simply hearing things at full volume after years of not being able to, was overwhelming. 

 

But without them, the world was overlaid with this whir. This high pitched whine that took over every other sound. It was worse with high pitched tones, they just kind of fuzzed into one another. Muffled and annoying .

 

Kind of like right now.

 

At least it was Friday. Tomorrow was Saturday, and then he could request to go home on Sunday. Ma ybe message his mum beforehand, break the news. It’s not like she would be able to phone him. 

 

He couldn’t fucking hear. 

 

Well, he could just about. Out of one ear. 

 

He’d be fine. 

 

It’s not like ignoring those extras would be anything unlike his actual personality.

 

—

 

“He- Ba.. Gou!”

 

Crap , he’d forgotten about Kirishima. 

 

Bakugou was very good at understanding what his name sounded like in this half-meshed underwater state. Having at least his right hearing aid in was helping out a lot. 

 

“Ba… Gou!” 

 

Ba kugou finally turned with a growl. Kirishima was running up towards him, the rest of 1A making the walk from dorms to class. 

 

“…h …n’t u wai… up for m-?” 

 

Fuck. This was hard. Bakugou narrowed his eyes in on his best friends lips, internally wishing that he’d stop fucking moving enough for him to read them.

 

‘Something something… wait up for me..?’

 

“Cause you’re slow,” he replied, trying to articulate as much as he could, praying that he had the right volume. Missing of the ‘b’ off of ‘because’. 

 

The ‘b’ sound was one of the ones that ‘sounded deaf’. Hollow. Missed off.

 

“-m -ot …w!”

 

‘I’m not slow!’

 

Kirishima didn’t even seem to notice. Maybe Bakugou was overthinking this. 

 

“…acch-n …o …ou have …old?”

 

Deku.

 

‘Kacchan do you have a cold?’

 

Fucking Deku.

 

“No,” he snapped back, turning to look at the teen, the word coming out more like an ‘ oh’ . 

 

“…sn’t …ound …ik… -t!” Midoryia teased. Bakugou just about lip-read him as he ran past, followed closely by Sero and Ashido. 

 

Bakugou didn’t know how he the energy. More importantly, Midoryia was onto him. 

 

“A.. -ou -ik?” Kirishima asked, Bakugou focusing too intently on stupid Deku to turn in time to catch the sentence. 

 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou replied. 

 

Because ‘fuck off’ was the default answer to any question.

 

—

 

Math was pretty easy to get through. Bakugou just kept his head down with a scowl and tried to follow along as best as he could with the sums on the board. Ectoplasm didn’t ask him any questions, and the only time that he was vaguely interrupted was when Midoryia turned around to tap him on the arm.

 

“-ag…ure’ tr..g o ..sk ..ou …m-thing,”

 

Bakugou frowned at the boy, internally his mind whirring. 

 

“What?” he’d tried to whisper. 

 

He must have misjudged the volume he was speaking at or something because Ectoplasm turned from the board, his tone low enough for Bakugou to catch without lip-reading. 

 

“Am I Intterup..g …m-thing?”

 

Bakugou opened his mouth, trying to think of a one lined excuse in his head when Midoryia and someone else started talking for him.

 

“I …st …e’ded a -en.”

 

“-o! -ou n h..v -ine!”

 

“I -ot a -re!”

 

“-ank -ou!”

 

Yaoyorozu stood up just behind him, jolting him as she leaned over and handed Hagakure a pen. 

 

Oh. Was that what this was about?

 

“-he t…ed -sk..g B…kou -ut h …n’t r..pl…”

 

“An…tin’g -lse?”

 

“-o se…i.”

 

“T…n -ll -et n w..th y -e…son,”

 

Fuck. This was impossible . Bakugou had n o idea who was saying what and when and the whole conversation was flying past him at such speed that he could barely lip-read in time, let alone make out sentences from the sound he could pick up on. 

 

His ears rang in protest as he stuck his head down trying hard not to let his eyes water up too much. 

 

He hadn’t tried doing something, he guessed normal? , witho ut his aids in for months. And he still had a working right ear. 

 

It was like he was going backwards. Like it was getting worse. Which he expected, after using his quirk so much at UA, but still… 

 

He didn’t want to go deaf. Not permanently. He couldn’t. 

 

Looking up, the class had moved on without him. Bakugou ignored the glances from Midoryia and turned the page in his textbook. 

 

—

 

Math was tolerable. PE felt like it was going to be impossible. 

 

At least in class, Bakugou could see the board, for the most time see the teacher. He didn’t really have a need to talk to anyone else so he could just focus on lip reading one person at a time. 

 

PE he would have to talk to everyone. All at once. 

 

He was starting to wonder if maybe he should just pretend that what Deku said was right, call off sick. Tell someone. 

 

That would be the responsible thing to do. Besides UA would no doubt already know. 

 

He just… 

 

No. If he could survive today then he would be able to survive… tomorrow?

 

He just couldn’t not cope. Like some stupid twisted game he was playing with himself in order to try and prove that he didn’t need to rely on hearing aids, that-

 

“BAKUGOU!”

 

Now that he did hear.

 

He looked up to see All Might beaming at him, hands on his hips, thrusting the invisible girl towards him. 

 

“-ou t..o -ill -e th… -eek..ers!”

 

‘You two will be the seekers!’

 

Seeking what ?

 

PE, whenever All Might was subbed in to teach it, was never really ‘PE’. It was almost always an assortment of games based on tactical approaches. Bakugou liked it, the competitive element appealed to him. 

 

Not today. 

 

Being paired with Hagakure, the invisible girl, in what Bakugou was just about grasping was some sort of glorified version of hide-and-seek, was his worst nightmare.

 

He couldn’t lip read someone who was invisible.

 

But before his mind could even comprehend how incredibly fucked he was, the rest of the class was running off, seemingly in teams themselves. 

 

Bakugou searched around wildly, the buzzing in his ear intensifying as his brain shook around in his skull. 

 

He caught a glimpse of Hagakure’s uniform. 

 

Okay, she hadn’t started running. 

 

The last thing he wanted to do was lose her. Then they’d be no hope. 

 

“W… -hould e t -ith?” 

 

Bakugou frowned. 

 

Was that ‘ where should we start with? ’ or ‘ who should we start with?’. 

 

“Uh?” he replied before thinking. 

 

“W…o -hould e -rt -ith?” 

 

Okay, that had to be ‘ who ’.

 

“Shoji,” Bakugou replied, a plan beginning to form in his mind. 

 

“-e w…s -ith -oda!” Hagakure replied, her hands moving together excitedly. 

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck .

 

“K’oda?” Bakugou asked, accidentally muting the ‘k’ and trying to make the whole thing seem like more of a confirmation than a question. 

 

“-eh! -oda!” Hagakure replied. Whether she thought the question was weird, Bakugou didn’t know. But this was good. Two hearing quirks meant that Bakugou could implement his back-up plan. 

 

“We n’ed to be q’uiet ‘round ‘em,” he stated. “‘Cause of th’eir q’irks. W’e should wear o’r earpieces.”

 

“Ohhh! -od i..ea!” 

 

Bakugou assumed that meant ‘good idea’ or something from the fact that the gloves travelled to pull out her earpiece from her utility belt. 

 

Bakugou did the same, clipping it onto his right ear, the one with hearing aid and turning it on, finding the right channel before-

 

“-an you -ear me?” 

 

“Yes,” Bakugou replied quickly. Because he could. Not well, thanks to the constant ringing in his left ear, but a lot better. A lot better.

 

Suddenly things seemed a bit easier. Bakugou let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding onto. At least, now, he could get through this lesson. 

 

“-o wh-t did -ou wan’t to do?” Hagakure asked, her voice coming through Bakugou’s earpiece. He shrugged in response, looking out into the forest field. What he wanted to do was try and get as far away from everybody as possible. He wanted the lesson to be over. He wanted the day to be over.

 

Instead, a flash of Hagakure’s PE uniform whistled past him. 

 

“L-et’s -pit up! If we find an’yone on the way t’en capture ‘em!”

 

Her gloves made the sign for ‘go left’, pointing towards Bakugou. Relieved and grateful for the hand signals. He veered left, running through the trees. If he could just find someplace to chill, to stop for a moment and figure it out. 

 

The familiar anxiety rose in his chest. If he couldn’t even cope with a stupid fucking PE exercise without both of his hearing aids, what was going to happen when it was proper hero work? What if a villain ripped his aids out? What if there was some sort of loop, signal failure or something. 

 

Bakugou wasn’t going to give up on a stupid exercise where all he needed to do was round up his stupid classmates. If he failed at this then, then-

 

He spotted something out of the corner of his eye, forcing himself to a stop, looking around quickly.

 

If he couldn’t rely on his hearing then he would rely on his sight. 

 

He lifted his palms in the direction of the nearby bushes, any warning signs flashing through his mind disregarded as he felt the familiar burning sensation of nitroglycerin heating and cracking under the pressure. 

 

An explosion, creating a flame just over a meter long, blasted from his hands, swirling across the space and hitting the nearby bushes. The ringing in his ears intensified to such a degree that Bakugou couldn’t stop himself from crying out, trying desperately to add grit to his voice. Stop it from sounded like he was in pain. 

 

The effect was instant. Mineta and Aoyama burst from the foliage, running into the forest, Bakugou quick to follow, the buzz from his ears turning into a high pitched whine. It didn’t take him long to catch up, despite having to dodge the balls Mineta was throwing behind him. He let out a cry, the volume, he had no idea of, leaping up into the air and slamming one hand down on his classmate. Mineta was pushed to the floor and Bakugou had just reached out for Aoyama’s shoulder when the boy turned, letting out a beam of light from his stomach. 

 

Bakugou dodged quickly, the impact of the laser hitting a nearby branch instead. He thrust both arms out and pushed Aoyama to the ground, hard, knocking the wind out of him. Letting the heat from his palms start to meld them to Aoyama’s PE uniform.

 

A tannoy sounded, the words merging into one.

 

“AOYAMAANDMINETAAREOUT!”

 

Of course, All Might was overseeing the entire thing. Fuck, he wasn’t alone anywhere.

 

Bakugou let go. Aoyama looking up at him, nose flared, eyebrows creased. He didn’t say anything but Bakugou knew that face. 

 

Maybe he’d gone too far. 

 

Fuck it. 

 

Shooting the pair one last look, Bakugou turned, running away from the situation, his eyes wild. 

 

He could do this. He could probably still make it. 

 

“KIRISHIMAANDASHIDOAREOUT!”

 

Fuck, the feedback from the tannoy was making it impossible for Bakugou to distinguish one word from another. Kirishima was out but he didn’t know who else. Had Invisible girl-?

 

“B’kugou!”

 

His earpiece rung out, cutting through the background noise.

 

“What?” he replied, tapping in. 

 

“F’our -re out! But we n’ed to f’nd Shoji and ‘oda r’ght? Or th’ll he’r us c’oming!”

 

“Yeah,” he replied. 

 

He was missing something. His back up plan was to render all of the hearing quirks useless first but now thinking about it, looking for those with heightened hearing meant that the two were forced to communicate through earpiece and that, that was the only way that-

 

Bakugou spotted something. A tail. Ojiro.

 

He turned to their direction and let out another explosion from his palms, announcing his presence. Ojiro walked out from the trees but simply stood, waiting. 

 

A trap. 

 

Bakugou turned just in time to see Uraraka run across. He extended an arm but not before she got there, ducking at the last minute and tapping his leg. Bakugou didn't have a second to react before he found himself going weightless, his legs buckling from underneath him as Uraraka activated her quirk. 

 

Shit. Round Face looked far too fucking proud of herself. Hagakure’s voice came through his earpiece. Excited.

 

“B’kugou! I’ve f’ound Yaoyo’uz!”

 

Who would Yaoyorozu have teamed up with? Bakugou was definitely missing something important .

 

He raised his hand up once more, planning his trajectory in his mind as the earth rushed upside down, his body twisting thanks to Uraraka’s quirk. Blasting again, he forced himself in her direction, extinguishing the explosion from one hand in time to grab her arm. Uraraka stumbled backwards as she was knocked out of the game, releasing her quirk at the same time. 

 

Bakugou didn't have time to brace himself for the impact, falling face-first into the ground and sliding a meter across the dirt. He pulled himself up quickly, turning back to Ojiro who, credit to him, stayed his ground. Ready to take Bakugou on. One on one. 

 

Good. Combat didn’t require speaking. 

 

Ojiro jumped forward first, using his tail as a decoy, grabbing Bakugou’s forearms and preventing him from being able to tap him out of the game. Bakugou went to twist around, hooking his legs across his classmates when-

 

THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP. 

 

The ground around them seemed to shake as it ripped from their feet. Both Bakugou and Ojiro lost their footing, Bakugou’s earpiece screeching and crackling.

 

Jiro. He’d fucking forgotten about Jiro.

 

The sound from his earpiece was piercing. Hurting to a point where Bakugou could see himself writhing. He needed to get the stupid thing out of his ear but Ojiro had his arms pinned. Disregarding the consequences, Bakugou let out an explosion, hitting Ojiro’s lower back. With just a PE shirt to protect him, the effect was instantaneous and the teenager let go, his face twisting in such a way that Bakugou could only imagine that he’d cried out in pain.

 

He threw the earpiece out immediately, letting it fly into the broken ground. His cheeks were damp but he managed to still reach across and tap Ojiro out. 

 

“URARAKAANDOJIROAREOUT!”

 

Ojiro let him win, his own hands clutching his back where Bakugou had let off his explosion. He was grinning through his grimace. He spoke, Bakugou hearing nothing but white noise, reading his lips. 

 

‘ I’m glad you didn’t go easy on us. ’

 

It was said as a joke, Bakugou knew that but it put him at ease slightly. He didn’t want to ever fire an attack directly onto someone who wasn’t a villain. Not anymore. 

 

He nodded, picked up the earpiece and set off running.

 

The earpiece was dead. Bakugou had no communication with Hagakure. Which was fine. It was fine. He could just tap everyone out on his own and deal with everything else afterwards. Jiro’s blast hadn't affected his hearing aid. He was just back to square one. It was fine.

 

“YAOYOROZUANDJIROAREOUT!”

 

Hagakure had done it. 

 

Bakugou ran it over in his head. They’d captured eight. Ten to go. 

 

They could do it. Bakugou didn’t have to lose.

 

He looked around, his sight misted over with tears that he blinked back angrily. Self-pity was stupid, fucking stupid. Besides he needed to be able to see. 

 

“-k-ou!” 

 

A flash of gloves appeared beside him, Hagajure’s voice reduced down to a muffled whisper without the aid of the communication device. She said something else that Bakugou couldn’t hear before suddenly a flock of birds erupted through the trees. 

 

Shit. He would have been able to hear them, if only- 

 

Bakugou lifted his arms above his head, setting off mini-explosions with his palm, the birds squawking and moving away from them. Hagakure set off her light refraction, running off in one direction, the birds following her path attracted to the shine. 

 

Leaving Bakugou to find Koda. And Shoji. They were a group. 

 

Koda was easy to find. The student had hidden behind a tree, the sides of his arms just about poking out. Shoji, however, was nowhere to be seen. At least not yet. 

 

If their plan was to split both Bakugou and Hagakure up then Shoji would be looking to take him on, on his own. 

 

Bakugou ran up to where Koda was, the shy teen barely running a meter away before Bakugou had tapped him out. 

 

One down, one to go. 

 

Luckily, Shoji, having seen his partner get caught, revealed himself. Jumping down from the tree he attempted to confused Bakugou with his dupli-arms. It was lost on him, the shouting from the various mouths not even registering as anything more than low hums. He raised his arms to tap Shoji out as Shoji raised an arm in return, forcing Bakugou backwards and against the tree with some force. He swiped forward with both arms as a ‘pop’ came from one ear. 

 

“SAKOAIDOJRHTONEDAU!”

 

Something went off. Some tannoy. Shoji released his grip on him, nodding down at Bakugou defeatedly. 

 

He’d got them out. Is that what that tannoy was? Why couldn’t he- fuck .

 

Bakugou’s hand rose towards his hearing aid, running his fingers along it, hissing in absolute horror. 

 

It wasn’t working.

 

Now. Now he was fucked. Completely and utterly…

 

He pulled himself from the tree, brushing off his arms, hissing at the scraped skin across his elbows. A familiar uniform and pair of gloves rushed past him, Bakugou’s heart drumming up against his chest. 

 

He couldn’t hear her. 

 

She stopped. Right in front of him. 

 

She had to be talking to him. But all Bakugou could hear was this droning, stupid, fucking, buzz .

 

Hagakure’s hands waved passed his face. He could just about see it. His eyes were watering again. His heart thumping. 

 

After PE was Japanese. He needed fucking sound for that. He could lip-read but what if they talked about dialect? He could lip-read dialect. Art didn’t need sound, fine. But lunch? Bakugou might just as well suck it up and fucking admit he was never going to function, never going to be a hero without-

A gloved hand landed on his shoulder. Pulling him from his trance. Hagakure’s other hand came up to the side of her face. Two fingers, tracing down to her mouth. Repeat. 

 

They’d all had to learn basic JSL in class. It was in case they had to perform a rescue for someone who was deaf. 

 

Hagakure was signing at him. 

 

‘ Deaf? ’ 

 

Bakugou took a breath. Swallowed his pride. Nodded.

 

There was a moment. A kind of elongated, horrific silence. Bakugou could almost have laughed. It was funny that he could still tell the difference between one silence and another. 

 

Hagakure’s hands travelled down to her shorts pocket, pulling out her phone. Bakugou didn’t understand why people felt the need to bring their phones everywhere but whatever. 

 

She tapped something out onto a notes page, twisting the screen around. Bakugou blinked back to read it, his nose flaring. 

 

‘ How much can you hear? ’

 

Hagakure left the phone hovering for a second before thrusting it forwards, encouraging him to take it. He did, drafting out a message, handing it back. 

 

‘ F all. I lip read ’

 

The invisible girl held the phone for a while, eventually handing it back, nothing new written down. Bakugou took it, confused as she dived her hand back into her pocket, producing some sort of tube thing. He watched as she opened it, twisting the bottom, dragging it across her face. 

 

Lipstick. She was applying lipstick. 

 

Bakugou was quick to type, holding the phone in front of her. 

 

‘ Why tf do u have that on u? ’

 

“Oh, it’s Jiro’s, I was holding onto it for her.”

 

Hagakure was stood perfectly still in front of him, articulating each syllable. 

 

“I can’t lip read. You will have to type.”

 

‘ K. ’

 

He pulled out his hearing aid, inspecting it in his palm. Hagakure tapped him on the arm. Forcing him to look up. 

 

“Did UA give you those?”

 

He shook his head, shoving the aid into his pocket. 

 

“You should go to the support office after class, they could fix them up.”

 

That was a good point. Bakugou hadn’t thought about that… 

 

“They gave me contact lenses,” Hagakure continued. “So I could see myself.”

 

Bakugou frowned, glancing down to type. 

 

‘ See yourself? ’

 

“Yeah!” she smiled. “I’m invisible!”

 

Hagakure’s mouth opened as if she was going to speak again but something stopped her. Some noise that Bakugou could no longer hear. 

 

“Wait,” she mouthed. “Be my backup.”

 

And with that, she came to stand beside him. Bakugou only just managed to turn to look as she pulled her top over her head, un-clipping her bra. 

 

Jesus. She was getting naked. 

 

“Stop looking at me undressing!” she mouthed. Bakugou snarled, typing quickly and shoving the phone between their faces. 

 

‘ I need to see your fucking lips move ’

 

Hagakure read as she slipped off her shoes and gloves, pushing her PE uniform into a small pile beside a tree. 

 

“I thought I saw Sato,” she replied. “He’s with Midoryia. I’ll go get them.”

 

“‘Et me come,” Bakugou replied, using his voice to mutely say what he didn’t have time to write. He shoved her phone in his pocket.

 

“Shhh!” 

 

Okay. His voice was too loud. 

 

“I’ll direct them your way as backup,” Hagakure continued. “Okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

Bakugou couldn’t afford to lose the invisible girl now. 

 

He followed her, a few meters behind, eyes wide. Trying to spot either Sato or Deku in amongst the trees. He didn’t want to fucking follow her but at the same time at least she didn’t try and stop the exercise or ask him a bunch of stupid questions like he was expecting. Bakugou hardly ever talked to the girl yet she was the first one in Class 1A to find out that he was practically fucking deaf and all she’d done was carry on. Like he’d told her the day of the week or something. 

 

He wondered how many people knew that she couldn’t see herself. Fuck, that was a weird one. 

 

Hagakure’s head turned, clearly having heard something. Bakugou was about to follow her line of sight when something directly in front of them caught his attention. 

 

This was a trap. 

 

He ran forward as Hagakure jumped to one side. Midoryia burst from the trees in front of her but Bakugou didn’t see what happened next as he leapt towards Sato’s hiding place. Sato punched a nearby tree, forcing it to topple in his path but Bakugou propelled himself upwards instead, landing neatly beside his classmate and tapping him out. 

 

“MDTAEORUDNSYIOAOARAIT!”

 

Bakugou barely registered that the loud hum in his ears was the tannoy before a hand grabbed his, pulling him away and into a run. He almost pulled away but looking beside him at nothing he realised it was Hagakure making him run. 

 

They ran until they were at the edge of the training ground, a thick concrete wall signalling that they couldn’t run anymore. Bakugou was glad about that, pulling out Hagakure’s phone and offering it up to the space beside him.

 

“P’ssword,” he muttered. 

 

An invisible hand met his and Bakugou dropped the phone into it, watching as the keypad seemed to type on its own. 

 

Hagakure handed it back after a moment. 

 

‘Sorry! I left my clothes and everything back there. We’ll both have to type.’

 

‘Y?’

 

Bakugou crouched, placing the phone on the ground beside him. After a second it was picked up, then placed back down. Bakugou read the new message.

 

‘I could see Iida. I didn’t want to get into another fight yet.’

 

Bakugou snatched the phone from the ground, typing quickly.

 

‘That’s stupid. We could have taken them.’

 

He placed the phone back down, glancing at the time as he did. The lesson ended in ten minutes and they still had six of their classmates to find. They could only do it if they were fast but Bakugou couldn’t just take off and wait for Hagakure to follow him. He couldn’t just explain a plan of attack on the move. He couldn’t do it alone.

 

The phone placed itself back on the ground. 

 

‘XD I’ll take that as a compliment! We need time to regroup. If u have a plan type it.’

 

Bakugou had a plan. He picked the phone up to start typing but ended up hitting different keys. Like it didn’t matter if they were wasting time. 

 

‘Was I being an idiot? For not knowing u can’t see yourself?’

There was a pause this time before Hagakure picked up the phone. Bakugou lowered himself to the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him, inspecting his grazed elbows. Listening to the droning noises in his head. 

 

This time the phone was placed onto his leg, the message a decent size. 

 

‘A few people in r class know. Mostly the girls tho I told Ojiro one time when we were both up l8. Midoryia knows as well bcause he was taking notes bout my quirk. I used to get teased for it tho. People used to shine bright lights at me cause I couldn’t block the light out from my eyes or ask stupid questions. Sry, that was a rly long answer lol. Ur not an idiot.’

 

Bakugou paused before typing out an answer. 

 

‘K gd. So u don’t have eyelids u can see through? What about sleeping? And sunlight?’

 

He was interested. He knew that quirks had drawbacks, yeah but they were all obvious most of the time. All kind of fixable. 

 

‘My eyes seem to be ok with it? Part of my quirk. But I have to be careful. How do u sleep in darkness? Weird! XD’

 

Bakugou scoffed at that, the phone being pulled from his grip. This time he watched her type, wondering how she knew exactly where to place her fingers. If she knew she was bleeding.

 

‘Do u have a plan then or what?’

 

Bakugou hastily tapped out a reply.

 

‘Yeah, I have one. Also, can u see the inside of you? Like if u have surgery n shit.’ 

 

He placed the phone back on the ground. Waiting on a reply. Forgetting about his own hearing, just for a moment.

 

Hagakure seemed to take longer on this one. Deleting then re writing. Then deleting the message again. Eventually, she placed the phone between them, Bakugou reaching for it quickly. 

 

‘The inside as well. They have special tech in some places, and MRI, Xrays etc, but no. If I get seriously injured and there’s no Recovery Girl then im basically dead lol. How long have u been deaf?’

 

Bakugou read the message, his mind reeling. He didn’t know what to reply.

 

‘Just after New Year. Don’t die’ 

 

Hagakure was quick to reply.

 

‘Haha Is it hard?’ 

 

‘Yes. but whatever. wbu?’

 

‘We’ll go to the support class after the lesson if u still want. It’s normal for me.’ 

 

Bakugou picked up the phone after Hagakure had finished typing. It was nice. She just kind of took it in her stride. Bakugou wondered what she looked like. He imagined not knowing what he looked like...

 

‘Thank u,’ he typed quickly, placing the phone down. 

 

‘We have 5 mins b4 class is over. What’s the plan? We’re winning this game.’

 

Bakugou grinned. Fuck yeah, they were. 

 

He began to type. 

 

‘K. here’s the plan…’

Notes:

Once again, just as a note, I'm not taking any more prompts for the time being!! Thank you for all those who have prompted in the last month! x

Chapter 48: The Tumblr Investigation Squad!!

Summary:

Someone in UA is running one of the most popular tumblr accounts in Japan. Probably.

Or maybe it's Ashido's excuse to make an investigation group chat ;)

Notes:

Hey guys happy Friday!!!

This chapter was a prompt by the amazing thatspicyseaflapflap and omg it was SO HARD to write but in the best possible way, I had a lot of fun!! Also, there is a comment at Jiro makes that was inspired by a tweet from babyboykiri :)

In other news, it's officially been a year since I first watched MHA!! Damn... Time flies!

Enjoy this chapter I love you all x

“SERO! JIRO!”

 

Ashido’s voice rang through the 1A common rooms like a siren. 

 

Aizawa’s hand wrapped tighter around his coffee cup.

 

“WHAT?” Sero yelled back from the sofa’s, arching his head upwards and cupping his hands over his mouth. 

 

Ashido burst through the doorway giddily, her phone clutched in one hand like a trophy. She looked Aizawa’s way as she did, b eaming and giving her homeroom teacher a wave. 

 

“Evening Aizawa-Sensei! How are you?” 

 

“Deaf.” 

 

And with that, Aizawa left the room. 

 

“What’s up?” Jiro asked, removing a headphone from one ear and letting it dangle across her chest. 

 

“Okay, okay , so-”

 

Ashido jumped over one side of the couch, uncomfortably close to Sero. She accidentally knocked Bakugou in the process. 

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“No,” Ashido replied without a glance in his direction. “So. You know that guy that I was telling you guys about on Tumblr?”

 

“The one with all the conspiracy theories or the sunset dude?” Jiro asked, leaning over from the opposite settee. 

 

“Sunset dude.”

 

“Yeah, I remember,” Jiro replied, Sero nodding along. 

 

“He goes to UA.”

 

Jiro perked up at that, hopping off her sofa and coming round behind Ashido, peering over her shoulder. Sero did the same and even Bakugou raised an eyebrow.

 

“Seriously?” Sero asked. “How do you know?”

 

“Okay,” Ashido replied, unlocking her phone and scrolling up the feed. “So yesterday he posted this -“

 

Her fingers stopped on a picture of a sunset. Ashido beamed, looking up at the two. 

 

“Right, yeah. Generic,” Jiro replied. 

 

“Generic maybe but look! Tokyo Tower!” Ashido pointed out. 

 

“Right, yeah just Tokyo’s biggest monument,” Sero muttered. 

 

“That’s not true,” Jiro replied.

 

“Anyway! Whatever! Point is! That’s a view of Tokyo Tower that you can only see from the UA dorms,” Ashido continued. 

 

“Is it..?” Sero asked. 

 

“Trust me. If you don’t believe me go up to the second floor of the boy's dorms and look out the window,” Ashido replied excitedly. “Also! The caption!”

 

The two peered over her shoulder as she scrolled, halting on the text, just beneath the image. 

 

‘Living away from home can have it’s perks…’

 

“And the worst caption award goes to…” Jiro grinned. 

 

“Shut up! It’s cute!” Ashido cried. “But! The living away from home bit!”

 

“I’m not convinced,” Sero replied, adjusting his position on the sofa and flexing one arm across the back of his head. 

 

“It would be cool though,” Jiro admitted, coming back to sit down. 

 

“Wouldn’t it!” Ashido cried. “He gets, like, over 40,000 notes on his posts!”

 

“And you fancy him?” Jiro added, smirking. 

 

“Shut up!” Ashido gasped, slouching down into the cushions. “But… he is single. He said so in a Q&A once.” 

 

“He’s never done a face reveal?” Sero asked. 

 

“Nope! But we should suggest it for his 100K!” Ashido grinned. 

 

“It’ll be a shitty business kid,” Bakugou spoke up. “And he’ll be ugly as fuck and crush all your dreams.”

 

“Bakugou!” Jiro cried, laughing. 

 

“I’ll take my chances!” Ashido replied. “What if he’s someone from third-year though?!” 

 

“Ohhh an older guy,” Sero teased. 

 

“What if he’s someone from 1A?” Jiro added. “Wait no! What if it’s Monoma !?”

 

Ashido retrieved the cushion from behind her and threw it in Jiro’s direction. 

 

—

 

From that night onwards, Ashido made it her personal mission to find the ‘anonymous Tumblr dude’. Sero and Jiro helped out sometimes. Surprisingly, Kaminari was quick to get on board as well. 

 

“I want it to be someone we know!” he’d grinned as he scrolled through the feed. 

 

“What guy do we know to have a weird obsession with sunsets though?” Yaoyorozu had asked in reply. She was involved in the conversations but refused to download Tumblr. 

 

A few weeks passed before any more ‘evidence’ seemed to crop up. Those who knew had seemingly forgotten about the whole mystery. Until-

 

“It’s someone from 1A.”

 

Ashido, Jiro and Yaoyorozu all turned from where they were sat in the dining hall. Kaminari was behind them, a proud grin on his face. 

 

“How do you know?!” Ashido cried, making room for him to sit down. 

 

“What’s this all about?” Hagakure asked from across the table.

 

“There’s a famous Tumblr account. Someone from 1A owns it,” Ashido filled her in, tapping Kaminari on the shoulder. “So, so?!”

 

“You guys obviously haven’t seen his latest post,” Kaminari replied, earning himself a slap on the arm from Jiro. 

 

“Get on with it,” she scolded as he placed the phone out on the table, the group leaning in to look at it. 

 

It was a link. To a song. 

 

“What is that?” Ashido asked. “It’s in English.” 

 

“My Generation, by The Who,” Yaoyorozu translated, looking up at Kaminari indignantly. “How did you know that?”

 

“Gee, charming,” Kaminari muttered. “It was the song Present Mic showed up this morning in English!” 

 

“No way!” Ashido cried. 

 

“That could be a coincidence,” Jiro reasoned. 

 

“Yeah, maybe,” Kaminari continued. “But look at the caption.”

 

‘Someone showed me this today. Thought it was pretty good. Comment any foreign songs down below, I need some more music to train to.’

 

“Fuck. Me.”

 

“I’d rather not, but thanks anyway,” Jiro replied, blowing a kiss to Ashido, who blew her a kiss in return. “That’s got to be more than just a coincidence though?”

 

“Did Present Mic show anyone else the song? He teaches more than just our class,” Yaoyorozu reasoned. “When he has a favourite song, he tends to show everyone.”

 

“Skeptics!” Kaminari cried coming round to sit down on the table, his juice box hanging from the side of his mouth by its straw. “The evidence is right in front of you! It’s someone from 1A.”

 

“How many notes does that post have?” Hagakure asked, Kaminari twisting the phone around so she could see. 

 

“56,617,” 

 

“Do you have a crush on him like Ashido?” Jiro questioned the teen, Kaminari looking up indignantly, the juice box dropping from his mouth. 

“No! I just know how many notes he gets!”

 

“I don’t have a crush on him if he’s someone from our class!” Ashido added. “So annoying!”

 

“Charming,” Kaminari retorted, taking the phone back and shoving it into his pocket.

 

“Well, let’s see,” Yaoyorozu said, moving her lunch tray to one side but grabbing her chopsticks. She proceeded to take the rest of the chopsticks as well as the chopstick wrappers, laying them out on the table to make fourteen. “So it’s not you Kaminari and we know it’s not Sero.”

 

She removed two of the wrappers. 

 

“Well, it’s not going to be Mineta,” Ashido added, catching on and removing a wrapper. Yaoyorozu caught her arm.

 

“We shouldn’t remove him unless we have proof,” she stated. Ashido gave her a look. 

 

“Really?”

 

The wrapper was removed. 

 

“I’ve seen Aoyama’s tumblr already!” Hagakure cried, taking away a chopstick and returning it to her tray. “It’s full of drag queens and really cool hero montages!”

 

“Oh same for Sato’s then,” Jiro added. “He has a cooking blog thing.”

 

“Koda?” Kaminari offered. “He seems like he’d be into sunsets?”

 

“I don’t think he has any social media,” Jiro replied. “Not from the conversations I’ve had with him.”

 

“Neither does Shoji I’m pretty sure,” Yaoyorozu mused. “Or Todoroki, I know he only has twitter.”

 

Six wrappers remained. 

 

“Right, now we’re stumped,” Ashido sighed. 

 

“No, now we have to get clever,” Kaminari grinned, taking the sixth chopstick away. “It’s not Midoryia.”

 

“Your reasoning?” Yaoyorozu asked.

 

“Not once is there a mention of All Might,” he replied. “At least not in the last months worth of posts. Midoryia would not have a social media account and not mention All Might.”

 

“Okay, fair point,” Yaoyorozu smiled. “Well then, it’s not Ojiro.”

 

“And your reasoning?” Kaminari mocked with a grin. 

 

“Did you see his face when Present Mic played that song?” she replied. 

 

“Oh my God, yeah!” Jiro grinned. “He hated it!”

 

“What kind of music is he into?” Ashido asked.

 

“He showed me some of his vinyl’s once,” Hagakure replied. “It was these cool 80’s jazz bands.”

 

“Ohhh interesting,” Yaoyorozu replied, raising an eyebrow at Jiro. 

 

“He showed you his vinyl’s, cool,” Jiro added with a grin. 

 

“Stop it!” Hagakure protested. “We were just hanging out!” 

 

The bell rang signalling the end of lunch as Yaoyorozu removed a chopstick from the row. 

 

“Who do we have left?” Kaminari asked as the five of them got out of their seats. 

 

“Iida, Tokoyami, Kirishima and Bakugou,” Yaoyorozu replied, collecting the remaining wrappers and hopping over the seat. “Who out of them?”

 

“Kirishima?” Jiro asked. 

 

“Yeah, I think so!” Hagakure replied. 

 

“Wait! It can’t be Bakugou!” Ashido suddenly cried from beside them, stopping halfway through rising out of her seat. 

 

“Why?” Kaminari asked, squeezing his juice box so the remainder spurted out of the straw.

 

“Because he was there when we first talked about the account! All the way back when we were in the common area!” Ashido reminded them. 

 

“Ah, but he could have lied,” Hagakure pointed out. 

 

“Yeah, didn’t he say it was probably some business student? Seems like the sort of thing he’d do,” Jiro shrugged. 

 

“Wouldn’t it be funny if it was Bakugou?” Kaminari grinned, not noticing the blond-haired student coming up behind him. “There’s so much soppy shit on self-preservation, I could take the piss out of him forever!”

 

“Oi, Kam. Stop ,” Jiro tried to hiss at him, to no avail.

 

“I would literally be untouchable!” Kaminari continued as a hand slammed down on one shoulder,

 

“You’d be fucking what now?” Bakugou snapped. 

 

--

 

Group chat created by Mina Ashido 

 

Mina Ashido changed the group chat picture to IMG-78GI

 

Mina Ashido changed the group chat name to “Sunset Dude”

 

Mina Ashido added Denki Kaminari, Kyoka Jiro, Momo Yaoyorozu, Toru Hagakure and Hanta Sero to “Sunset Dude”

 

Mina Ashido - Thought this would be useful to have! Then we can send updates on who we think it is in 1A!

 

Hanta Sero entered the group chat “Sunset Dude”

 

Hanta Sero - Hey! It’s someone in 1A???

 

Denki Kaminari entered the group chat “Sunset Dude”

 

Mina Ashido - Yeah! Kaminari found evidence at lunch. Hey! @Denki Kaminari upload the picture from Sunset’s feed. 

 

Denki Kaminari - WHY TF IS THE PROFILE PIC THAT ONE OF ME AT THE BEACH WHEN THE WAVE PULLED MY SHORTS DOWN?!

 

Denki Kaminari - WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THAT FROM?!?!

 

Mina Ashido - hahahaha enjoy! 

 

Kyoka Jiro entered the group chat “Sunset Dude”

 

Kyoka Jiro - Lol @Denki Kaminari nice butt :P

 

Denki Kaminari - Fuck off. I’m finding a new pp. 

 

Mina Ashido - The evidence first!!

 

Denki Kaminari sent a photo. 

 

Mina Ashido - Ty!! Xx

 

Hanta Sero - Oh! The song was from Present Mic’s class right??? Damn. So it’s someone from 1A that’s so funny haha

 

Momo Yaoyorozu entered the group chat “Sunset Dude”

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - So this is why my phone keeps on buzzing… 

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - Wow. What a group picture. 

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - @Hanta Sero we think it’s either Iida, Kirishima, Bakugou or Tokoyami. The sunset dude person I mean. 

 

Hanta Sero - damn you guys got really into it lolololol

 

Mina Ashido - Hey Momo! Xox

 

Mina Ashido - brb, I’ve got to run these books bk to Iida.

 

Mina Ashido went offline

 

Denki Kaminari changed the group chat picture to IMG-02LK

 

Denki Kaminari - Ha! Revenge!

 

Kyoka Jiro - What even is that picture??

 

Kyoka Jiro - oh lol right I get it hahaha

 

Hanta Sero - My dibs would be on it being Kirishima but I think it would be funny if it was Iida haha. 

 

Hanta Sero - @Denki Kaminari LOL

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - What??? I don’t get it?? 

 

Toru Hagakure entered the group chat “Sunset Dude”

 

Toru Hagakure - Hey!!! What’s this group chat for?

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - It’s meant to be about the Sunset tumblr guy. 

 

Toru Hagakure - Ohhh! Meant to??

 

Hanta Sero - @Toru Hagakure We’ve descended into madness.

 

Kyoka Jiro - @Momo Yaoyorozu @Toru Hagakure Zoom in on the group chat picture XD 

 

Mina Ashido is online

 

Mina Ashido - Hey guys! I’m bk! 

 

Mina Ashido - We need to figure out how to find sunset dude. Anyone got any ideas?

 

Toru Hagakure - HAHAHAHAHA @Denki Kaminari That’s AMAZING!!

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - XD

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - Okay, better than I was expecting

 

Denki Kaminari - thx guys 

 

Mina Ashido - Wait what???

 

Mina Ashido - Why is the group chat picture a load of raccoons??

 

Kyoka Jiro - XD XD XD 

 

Mina Ashido - WHY IS MY FACE PHOTOSHOPPED ONTO ALL OF THEM????

 

Kyoka Jiro - @Denki Kaminari How much free time do you have??

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - ^^ I second that

 

Denki Kaminari - lol i guess a lot

 

Mina Ashido - @Denki Kaminari Prepare to DIE!

 

Hanta Sero - Amazing. idk why we make these group chats XD 

 

“Why don’t you just ask the tumblr dude what his quirk is?” 

 

Hagakure jumped from where she was sitting on the common room sofa and turned around to see Bakugou standing behind her, arms folded. 

 

“Bakugou! Stop reading my messages!” she cried in reply, hugging her phone to her chest. 

 

“That doesn’t work idiot, you’re see-through ,” Bakugou retorted, jumping on the sofa beside her. “And why the fuck am I still a suspect for this stupid shit? I don’t have tumblr.”

 

Hagakure watched him for a moment before bringing her phone down and scrolling back through the messages. 

 

“Well that whittles it down to three…” she mused. 

 

“It’s not going to be Iida though is it,” Bakugou sighed, taking the phone from Hagakure and snorting at the group chat picture. “Add me.”

 

“What to the group chat?” Hagakure asked. 

 

“What fucking else?”

 

Toru Hagakure added Katsuki Bakugou to “Sunset Dude”

 

Hanta Sero - ohhhh @Toru Hagakure whatt???

 

Katsuki Bakugou - You idiots need to take me off your hit list I have an idea.

 

Toru Hagakure - it’s a good one

 

Katsuki Bakugou - @Denki Kaminari nice picture

 

Mina Ashido - OI!!!

 

Denki Kaminari - lol thanks @Katsuki Bakugou

 

Katsuki Bakugou - ‘Racoon eyes’ is my nickname for Ashido tho so you owe me copyright or sommin

 

Denki Kaminari - Yeah right!

 

Kyoka Jiro - lol, so Bakugou isn’t the sunset dude???

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - it was unlikely from the start anyway. 

 

Hanta Sero - What a shame. Imagine if Bakugou had been the one Ashido fancied XD

 

Mina Ashido - Stop ganging up on me!!!

 

Katsuki Bakugou - Go to jell 

 

Katsuki Bakugou - *jell

 

Katsuki Bakugou - **Hel 

 

Katsuki Bakugou - FUCK ***HELL

 

Hanta Sero - LOL

 

Kyoka Jiro - XD

 

Toru Hagakure - @Katsuki Bakugou explain the plan.

 

Katsuki Bakugou - you idiots need to ask the guy in a q&a what his quirk is

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - ohhhh that’s good

 

Kyoka Jiro - when was the last time he did a q&a tho??

 

Denki Kaminari - Someone could request it?

 

Hanta Sero - No because they’ll know it’s us.

 

Mina Ashido - Unless Bakugou made a fake tumblr and asked?

 

Kyoka Jiro - Perfect!!

 

Katsuki Bakugou - no fucking way

 

Kyoka Jiro - Go on! Be cool!!

 

Katsuki Bakugou - already am.

 

Mina Ashido - Please!!!!!

 

Katsuki Bakugou - you idiots are way too into this shit.

 

Katsuki Bakugou - what do I get for doing it??

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - The respect of your classmates!

 

Hanta Sero -  @Katsuki Bakugou I’ll do your washing up for a week!

 

Mina Ashido - @Katsuki Bakugou I’ll buy you some Hello Panda biscuits!

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - ugh.

 

Denki Kaminari -  @Katsuki Bakugou I’ll let you borrow my Cooking Mama game on the DS for a week!

 

Kyoka Jiro - Wait! Bakugou plays Cooking Mama lol XD

 

Toru Hagakure - Awwww! So sweet!

 

Katsuki Bakugou - fuck you Denki. 

 

Katsuki Bakugou - I want it for a fortnight

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - …

 

Denki Kaminari - Deal.

 

Katsuki Bakugou - k

 

Katsuki Bakugou - someone show me how to make an account.

 

-- 

 

“Sensei why are you teaching our Modern Art History class?” 

 

Iida had his hand raised high as he asked the question, Aizawa looking over at him with a withering sigh. 

 

“I’m not,” he replied. “We’re having a change of lesson plan, I’m assisting Midnight.”

 

“Aren’t you excited not to be having Modern Art History!” Nemuri cried from her place, just beside Aizawa at the front of the room. 

 

“You can’t say that,” Aizawa growled. “You teach the subject.”

 

“What are we doing in lesson?” Uraraka asked brightly. For once Class 1A looked involved in the lesson. A small miracle perhaps. 

 

“Everyone get out your phones,” Aizawa instructed as a reply. There was a pause among the room before all twenty students reached into their bags, or back pockets (Aizawa took note of who they were) and placed their phones on the desk. “You’ll need to be able to go onto Facebook so if your phone doesn’t connect to the internet, sit next to someone who will let you log on to your account.”

 

Uraraka was the only student to move, shifting her seat next to Iida. 

 

“Midnight will explain what we’re doing,” Aizawa stated gruffly, passing the lesson onto his best friend who grinned almost scarily as she addressed the class. 

 

“Now you’re all heroes in training and, with your provisional licences, allowed to work on the field-“

 

Aizawa felt a little remorseful for Bakugou and Todoroki, both boys shuffling uncomfortably in their seats. 

 

“-There is a certain level of popularity that comes along with it!” Midnight finished, her eyes glinting. 

 

“You mean on social media?” Ashido piped up, looking across at Sero and Kaminari, her eyebrows raised. 

 

Aizawa didn’t like that look. He didn’t know what sort of evil plan that look entailed.

 

“Exactly!” Midnight replied. “And it’s your job to not only keep yourselves protected but to keep a good online profile. One bad word online and your reputation as a pro hero could be in ruins!” 

 

“Go into your Facebook privacy settings,” Aizawa instructed, watching as the twenty of his students scrolled their fingers across the screens. 

 

“Where is it?” Sato piped up.

 

“In settings!” Midoryia called back. 

 

“Once your there, I want you to place all of your settings onto private,” Aizawa continued. “Especially the content that people who don’t follow you can see.”

 

“Are we going to do this with all our social media?” Sero asked. 

 

“Yes,” Aizawa replied.

 

“I’ve seen pro heroes with social media accounts though,” Midoryia spoke up. “Best Jeanist has a huge following!”

 

“Mt Lady is the same,” Yaoyorozu admitted. “She taught me and Kendo the importance of having social media during our internship.”

 

“Having social media when you're a pro hero is important!” Midnight replied. “But you have to be extremely careful about what you put on there.”

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever written anything offensive,” Ojiro shrugged. 

 

“That’s subjective, unfortunately,” Aizawa stated. “When it comes to having a media presence as a hero, it’s best for you to start afresh.” 

 

“There have been situations in the past where villains have been able to infiltrate heroes personal information through platforms such as Twitter or Facebook,” Midnight continued. 

 

“Like catfishing?” Kirishima asked.

 

“What?” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Catfishing! It’s when someone pretends to be someone they’re not on social media to gain trust from them!” Kirishima replied with a grin. 

 

“That’s not what that word means,” Aizawa muttered. “Really? Catfishing ? Why?”

 

Kirishima shrugged. 

 

“I don’t know, but yeah, that’s what it’s called.”

 

Aizawa sighed. 

 

“Yes, I suppose it would be catfishing,” Midnight replied instead. “Certain… information has come out about UA in the last year and it would make sense for social media to play a part in these leaks.”

 

“So, what you’re saying is that there is no traitor and in fact, the league has just catfished Kaminari instead?” Jiro asked, suppressing her laughter. 

 

Kaminari just managed to hit her round the head with his textbook before Aizawa’s eyes glowed red. 

 

“Take. This. Seriously,” he snapped, watching as Jiro mellowed, sliding back in her seat. 

 

“We’re not telling you that you can’t have friends online,” Midnight offered. “We’re just telling you to be careful when it comes to personal information.” 

 

“Once everyone is finished with their Facebook settings I want you to go onto LINE,” Aizawa instructed, his tone still cold. 

 

“At the end of this lesson and in your own time, I want you to go through your social media feeds and try and delete any offensive or rude posts,” Midnight added. “Even if they’re not innately ‘bad’. Post with swearing in you’ll want to delete for example.”

 

“That’s most of Bakugou’s feed!” Kirishima laughed, the second to earn the wrath of Aizawa’s stare. 

 

“At least you’d automatically know what sort of a hero he was,” Todoroki muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Bakugou to hear. 

 

“FUCK YOU!” he cried, standing in his seat, palm blazing and making Midoryia jump a foot in the process. “All of your posts are about wanting to kill yourself!”

 

“Bakugou! Sit down!” Midnight called, throwing Aizawa a glance. 

 

“Don’t worry,” Todoroki assured his teachers, noting the worried expressions on their faces. “They’re all ironic.”

 

“Well… They’ll probably need to be deleted as well,” Midnight replied. 

 

“Oh. Shame. They’re quite popular…”

 

Aizawa pinched the skin between his eyes. Hard. 

 

Ashido raised her hand.

 

“Aizawa-Sensei, what about secret accounts?” 

 

“Secret accounts?” Aizawa replied, watching Ashido glance back in Kaminari’s direction, Tokoyami raising his head slightly. 

 

“Yeah, as in, if you have something like a Tumblr account but it’s anonymous,” Ashido continued pointedly, looking around the class. 

 

“Who in their right mind would do that?” Aizawa replied quickly, catching himself. “Maybe I’m too old for this.”

 

“I think it’s just fine as long as you follow the same rules as your personal accounts, no swearing, keep things pg!” Midnight took over. “But I wouldn’t recommend having anonymous accounts once you get signed to an agency. There’s nothing the public hate more than feeling deceived by their favourite hero!”

 

“Does that answer your question?” Aizawa asked Ashido, an eyebrow raised. 

 

“Yes, thank you Midnight,” she beamed.

 

Aizawa frowned. 

 

—

 

Mina Ashido is online

 

Mina Ashido - It’s Tokoyami.

 

Hanta Sero is online

 

Hants Sero - No! It’s so not, it’s Kirishima! Did you see him when you mentioned the secret account???

 

Mina Ashido - Not really tbh, I sit in a really awkward place.

 

Kyoka Jiro is online

 

Momo Yaoyorozu is online

 

Hanta Sero - Okay well it’s Kirishima. 

 

Kyoka Jiro - I agree with Ashido. Sorry. 

 

Katsuki Bakugou is online

 

Kyoka Jiro - It’s definitely not Iida tho.

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - Agreed. Not Iida. I don’t know between the other two, they both acted weird in class. 

 

Katsuki Bakugou - it’s not shitty hair. 

 

Katsuki Bakugou - i’ve been on his phone. 

 

Hanta Sero - cute!!!!!! 

 

Katsuki Bakugou - f u 

 

Hanta Sero - Awww!!

 

Toru Hagakure is online

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - @Mina Ashido also you could have been more subtle mentioning it in class??

 

Toru Hagakure - Yeah haha you got straight to the point. 

 

Mina Ashido - That’s how you get information!

 

Katsuki Bakugou - never become a fucking spy

 

Kyoka Jiro - LOL

 

Denki Kaminari is online

 

Denki Kaminari - So we thinking Tokoyami? Can we imagine him taking pictures of sunsets???

 

Hanta Sero - Maybe??

 

Toru Hagakure - Not really.

 

Denki Kaminari - @Kyoka Jiro we’re not talking btw. 

 

Denki Kaminari - @Kyoka Jiro I’m not the traitor.

 

Kyoka Jiro - I know!! It was a joke!! 

 

Mina Ashido - Oof. Drama!

 

Kyoka Jiro - @Denki Kaminari You’re not really going to ignore me right??? 

 

Denki Kaminari went offline

 

Kyoka Jiro - @Denki Kaminari ?????

 

Mina Ashido - A lovers tiff!!

 

Katsuki Bakugou - gay. 

 

Kyoka Jiro went offline

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - wow @Katsuki Bakugou mature much. 

 

Hanta Sero - okay woahhhh let’s not get into an argument lol

 

Toru Hagakure - let’s focus on Sunset Dude! If it is Tokoyami though I don’t want him to delete his account because of hero work :(

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - I’m not going to get into an argument but @Katsuki Bakugou this is the type of thing you’ve spent the last hour deleting off of your social media. 

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - If you can’t say anything nice, just don’t say it

 

Momo Yaoyorozu went offline

 

Hants Sero - Cool, okay let’s leave it at that. @Toru Hagakure I agree, I quite like Sunset’s feed after researching it for the last few weeks!

 

Toru Hagakure - I know!

 

Katsuki Bakugou - @Momo Yaoyorozu this is a fucking group chat don’t act like I’m calling random people ‘gay’

 

Katsuki Bakugou - @Momo Yaoyorozu I know who can take a joke and who can’t 

 

Momo Yaoyorozu is online

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - Fine. Sorry. @Katsuki Bakugou

 

Momo Yaoyorozu went offline

 

Katsuki Bakugou went offline

 

Hanta Sero - welp.

 

Hanta Sero - @Toru Hagakure I guess we’ll leave it for now

 

Toru Hagakure - Yeah, maybe... @Hanta Sero

 

--

 

Two weeks went by and the group almost forgot about ‘sunset dude’. It didn’t take long for Kaminari to forgive Jiro but no one seemed to come online or even speculate about the tumblr page. Even Bakugou’s fake account was seemingly forgotten about although the explosive boy was taking more and more pictures as the days went by. 

 

“It’s about mountains,” he finally admitted when Sero called him out for yet another movie night illuminated by the glow of Bakugou’s phone screen.

 

“It’s about what?” 

 

“The stupid fucking tumblr thing you made me do. It’s about mountains and hiking. I thought that would do or something,” Bakugou huffed in reply as Sero walked around to look over his shoulder. 

 

“You didn’t even need to do it,” he replied. “We found out who it was. Kinda.”

 

Bakugou ignored him, leaving Sero to watch as he cycled through his uploads.

 

“Oh. That’s a nice shot,” he pointed out. Bakugou shrugged. 

 

“Whatever.” 

 

“No, it’s cool!” Sero continued. “And you’re getting really into it!”

 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou snapped, shooting the boy evils. 

 

“Sure thing! I’m going!” Sero grinned, walking backwards towards the door. “I have a camera by the way, like a proper DLR.”

 

“And?” Bakugou asked, looking up all the same. “Why do I care?” 

 

“You can borrow it, if you want,” Sero replied with a shrug. Bakugou regarded him for a moment, watching him walk back into the doorframe. 

 

“Maybe.”

 

-- 

 

Katsuki Bakugou is online

 

Katsuki Bakugou - yo

 

Katsuki Bakugou - fuckin extras

 

Katsuki Bakugou sent a photo

 

Hanta Sero is online

 

Kyoka Jiro is online

 

Mina Ashido is online

 

Mina Ashido - Shit I don’t have good wifi. Someone tell me what it is??

 

Hanta Sero - Where are you? @Mina Ashido

 

Mina Ashido - Out with my mum. It’s her birthday. 

 

Kyoka Jiro - It’s sunset dude. He posted something about quitting this account.

 

Kyoka Jiro - “ So it’s come to my realisation that some people in my class, know about this account. It was inevitable I guess, but I don’t really want them to share it. I don’t really who I am to be public. I am thinking of deleting this account, but I know that would make a lot of you upset. I don’t know what to do. ”

 

Kyoka Jiro - ^^ I copied and pasted it @Mina Ashido

 

Kyoka Jiro - Wish your mum happy birthday!

 

Hanta Sero - Happy Birthday to your mum!!!

 

Toru Hagakure is online

 

Toru Hagakure - Hope your mum has a good day! @Mina Ashido 

 

Toru Hagakure sent a GIF

 

Katsuki Bakugou - hbd to ur mum

 

Mina Ashido - Thanks guys!!!! Xox

 

Mina Ashido - But whatttttttt?? No!! He can’t close his account!!

 

Hanta Sero - Shitttt, do you think he’s talking about us??

 

Katsuki Bakugou - yh.

 

Hanta Sero - Ah crap.

 

Denki Kaminari is online

 

Denki Kaminari - lol I thought this chat had died haha 

 

Kyoka Jiro - @Denki Kaminari read up

 

Denki Kaminari - Okayy

 

Toru Hagakure - Should we try and talk to him?

 

Hanta Sero - Is it definitely Tokoyami?

 

Katsuki Bakugou - got to be

 

Hanta Sero - Fuckkk

 

Denki Kaminari - Oh. This isn’t good.

 

Momo Yaoyorozu is online

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - Long time no talk :o

 

Mina Ashido - We have to do something! Make him not delete his account.

 

Kyoka Jiro - @Mina Ashido lol that grammar was wild

 

Kyoka Jiro - I agree tho.

 

Mina Ashido - I’m really upset :( 

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - I just read it all. I don’t think we should talk to him though. I mean we should, but there might be a better way of showing our support. Less ‘in his face’. 

 

Katsuki Bakugou - yh i agree

 

Katsuki Bakugou - i have an idea if u want

 

Toru Hagakure - @Katsuki Bakugou yes please!

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - Me too but @Katsuki Bakugou maybe we have the same. 

 

Katsuki Bakugou - @Momo Yaoyorozu u first

 

Hanta Sero - Wow how chivalrous @Katsuki Bakugou XD

 

Katsuki Bakugou - nah i cba to type 

 

Mina Ashido - We’ll turn from the ‘investigation squad’ to the ‘save sunset dude squad’ !!! 

 

Kyoka Jiro - We were never either of those things XD

 

Denki Kaminari - Haha love it 

 

Denki Kaminari - Still can’t believe Tokoyami runs like one of the most popular tumblr accounts lol

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - Okay so why don’t we all post appreciation posts for Tokoyami’s account? All of us have tumblr right? Apart from me I think. And I can download it I guess. That way he’ll know it’s us but it won’t be in his face. 

 

Katsuki Bakugou - yh i was going to say that

 

Katsuki Bakugou - but just post sunsets for him

 

Mina Ashido - Yes!!! How cute!!! 

 

Hanta Sero - I’m in!! I don’t know how to take pictures of sunsets though

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - I can help if you want? @Hanta Sero

 

Hanta Sero - Thank you!! @Momo Yaoyorozu 

 

Kyoka Jiro - This sounds sick! Okay I’m on it! 

 

Toru Hagakure - Ahhhh!! So sweet! Yes!

 

Denki Kaminari - GUYS STOP 

 

Denki Kaminari - Stop messaging!! I need to read lol

 

Kyoka Jiro - Lol sorry

 

Toru Hagakure - Haha

 

Denki Kaminari - Sounds sweet. I’ll draw a sunset. 

 

Kyoka Jiro - @Denki Kaminari Ohhh legendary!

 

Katsuki Bakugou - u extra mf @Denki Kaminari 

 

Denki Kaminari - @Katsuki Bakugou lol I’ll take that as a compliment.

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - Shall we meet tonight? Sunset is at eight, we can go out then and take pictures.

 

Toru Hagakure - Ohhh yes!! 

 

Mina Ashido - I’ll still be with my mum but I’ll be thinking of you guysss! xox

 

Hanta Sero - Yeah! Nice! Common room?

 

Toru Hagakure - Yeah!

 

Kyoka Jiro - Sounds good - @Katsuki Bakugou ??

 

Katsuki Bakugou - yh sure

 

Denki Kaminari - I’ll join as well, bring my sketchbook

 

Toru Hagakure - Cuteeeee 

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - Perfect! See you guys tonight!

 

Hanta Sero - Sick!

 

--

 

Hagakure wandered into the common room the next evening, first spotting Tokoyami, then spotting Bakugou, skipping over to the sofas.

 

“Do you think he’s noticed yet?” she whispered to him, nudging Bakugou who in turn, jumped in his seat. The two looked across to Tokoyami, who was making tea. 

 

“He’d better have,” Bakugou replied. “We posted those pictures an hour ago.”

 

“And he’s posted since then,” Kaminari added, holding up his phone as he settled down on the opposite sofa. “45,000 notes and counting on this sunset pic.” 

 

“Bullshit,” Bakugou hissed. 

 

“I’m sure it’s just been missed down his notifications,” Kaminari reasoned. 

 

“Oh! No! He liked my picture!” Hagakure squealed, showing the two boys her phone. 

 

As she did, Midoryia and Iida wandered into the corridor, followed by All Might. The man was in his skeletal form, a large yellow jumper hanging off of him, looking surprisingly similar to the one Midoryia had on… He was in conversation with Iida, but still looked up as he entered the room, smiling warmly across at Hagakure. 

 

“Young Hagakure! Something good?” he asked. 

 

“Oh just someone liking my picture on tumblr,” she replied, looking over in sync to Bakugou and Kaminari at Tokoyami. 

 

This time Tokoyami finally looked up, scoffing slightly. 

 

“Tumblr? Never seen the point.”

 

The trio’s expression dropped. 

 

“You what..?” Bakugou snarled, catching Tokoyami by surprise.

 

“I’ve never seen the point… Why? Do you have it?” he asked, bemused.

 

“Don’t you ?!” Kaminari replied. 

 

“No!” Tokoyami laughed. “Why are you all staring at me..?”

 

“Ah, I understand where Hagakure could be coming from!” All Might interrupted, easing the tension within the group as Bakugou made scorch marks in the sofa. “Some social media can be insirational!” 

 

“So, what have you guys been getting up to?” Kaminari asked Midoryia, attempting to pull Bakugou down as Tokoyami took his tea out of the common area. 

 

“We went training!” Midoryia replied cheerfully. “And saw the sunset!”

 

“Yes! Iida took this remarkable picture on my phone…” All Might added, pulling up his phone and turning the screen around…

 

--

 

Denki Kaminari is online

 

Denki Kaminari - GUYS!!! IT’S FUCKING ALL MIGHT!

 

Toru Hagakurei is online

 

Kyoka Jiro is online

 

Toru Hagakurei - Yeah but it could be Iida!!!

 

Hanta Sero is online

 

Katsuki Bakugou is online

 

Momo Yaoyorozu is online

 

Hanta Sero - …

 

Mina Ashido is online

 

Mina Ashido - Investigators pt2!!! 

 

Katsuki Bakugou - NOPE

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - Here we go again.

Kyoka Jiro - Also, just a thought but you know when we eliminated people because they don't have tumblr??

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - Yeah?

 

Kyoka Jiro - It's a secret account. So that's irrelevant...

 

Momo Yaoyorozu - Oh... 

 

Hanta Sero - Fucking hell haha

 

Denki Kaminari - Back to square one???

 

Mina Ashido - :o LOL

 

Katsuki Bakugou - I want to fuckin die

 

Kyoka Jiro - @Katsuki Bakugou ...Todoroki??? 

 

Hanta Sero - HAHAHA

 

Toru Hagakure - LOL

 

Mina Ashido changed Katsuki Bakugou's username to 'Todoroki the 2nd'

 

Todoroki the 2nd - Fuck u all

Chapter 49: Vulnerable

Summary:

“Oh my God…”

Yaoyorozu stood by the doorway, her hand gripping the doorframe, still in her silk pyjamas. Her eye-line was fixed to the floor.

Aizawa followed it, a trail of crimson, drip, drip, dripping in a line from the door to where Aizawa was stood now. A pool of it by the tv. His blood.

“Oh… there was a villain.”

Notes:

YOOOOO sorry I was gone for a week ah!!!! I'm currently in full rehearsals for an off-west end production whilst at the same time moving house to the big cityyyy and it's been MENTAL. So yes, I'm super sorry. But your comments kept me alive and well and I appreciate it so so much. I'm in the process of replying to them now x

This chapter was prompted by phAntomgh0st7018 xx

There was a strange feeling as Aizawa turned the handle into dorms. A sense of relief, not unexplainable but not something that he was used to encountering from Heights Alliance. Not that he didn’t view the place as a home, but at the same time, how could he? He constantly had to be alert, ready to become this figure of authority that he had to pluck up from the depths of his personality. 

 

He was wildly unsuited for this job. 

 

However, this morning was different. It was just ticking past two am, the silence in the common areas almost suffocating, but in a way that filled Aizawa’s chest. It was the same sense of security he got from his capture weapon tightening around his neck, just before he used it. The same sense of security one might get from their mum holding them. 

 

But Aizawa wasn’t going to go into the psycho-analogy of why he liked the silence. It was already hurting his head. 

 

He just liked not having to be some fake facade for a moment. 

 

His foot hit some games controller or some sort and he buckled from the sudden pain, hissing instead of making an audible noise, cursing under his breath all the English words that Hizashi had taught him. 

 

Something wet dripped to the floor as he straightened, moving his hair up, out of his face. Outside the floodlights shone through the bay windows, catching the reflection of their frames. 

 

He listened. But no one seemed to stir. 

 

Sometimes his mind would run away from him at times like these. He’d fear that something had happened to his students, that they’d been kidnapped by the league, killed in their sleep. The silence was deafening. 

 

It’s not like he could go in and check on them either, not without crossing some sort of boundary. 

 

“Sensei..?” 

 

A voice came from the doorway, etched in fatigue but held unfinished at the end. The question wasn’t a case of mistaken identity, more loaded than that. 

 

A light flicked on, the space illuminating so quickly it was as if the whole room had been set alight. Aizawa blinked, once, twice. The voice by the doorway gasped. 

 

“Oh my God…” 

 

This time the sentence trailed off from something Aizawa was familiar with. Fear. 

 

He looked up this time, properly. Yaoyorozu stood by the doorway, her hand gripping the doorframe, still in her silk pyjamas. Her eye-line was fixed to the floor. 

 

Aizawa followed it, a trail of crimson, drip, drip, dripping in a line from the door to where Aizawa was stood now. A pool of it by the tv. His blood. 

 

“Oh… there was a villain,” he started, his voice sounding before his mouth could form the words leaving him slurring. His hand rose up to his side, a vague recollection that that’s where the blood was coming from. 

 

Yaoyorozu faltered where she was stood, stepping forward, her hand still grasped onto the doorframe. Her mouth wavering, open then closed. 

 

“Help.” 

 

At first, her voice was quiet, barely registering to Aizawa as he pulled his hand away, looking down, smelling the metallic scent he was far too familiar with. 

 

“…Help…!”

 

“Wait. Yaoyorozu.” 

 

Aizawa’s voice was gritty but grounded this time, loud enough to stop his student from yelling out anymore. 

 

“It’s… not as bad as it looks. Let’s not worry anyone.”

 

She gave him a look, her fearful eyes still keeping their disbelief, their maturity. 

 

“Can I help you?” she breathed. Aizawa nodded, feeling his legs sinking into the floor as his mind seemed to catch up to what had happened. 

 

At once, she was beside him. At first, he thought she was holding him up but no, she was lowering him down to the ground, pushing him up against the kitchen cabinet. Her hands shaking, more than his. 

 

In his head, he cursed himself for putting her through it. This should be his issue to sort out, alone, maturely. Like an adult. Not relying on his students. 

 

“Go on,” he hissed, trying to retain as much humour in his tone as he could as Yaoyorozu tentatively pulled his top just over his hips. “How bad is it?” 

 

“There’s too much blood, hang on,” Yaoyorozu replied, her voice grounded. Aizawa nodded, giving into the fact that she was going to see him vulnerable. There was nothing more he could do about that.  

 

“Hey? You okay? I heard something, couldn’t sleep.”

 

Aizawa shifted his head to spot Todoroki hanging in the doorway, his mouth forming a small ‘o’. 

 

“Can you grab some water?” Yaoyorozu asked, barely turning her head. Aizawa tried to sit up slightly, tried to see as if he was better off than he was but there was a pain in his side that he’d only just managed to register and a sense of fatigue that was weighing down on him like a ton of bricks. 

 

“I can… wait,” Todoroki replied, crossing the space of the room in a few strides, kneeling down besides Yaoyorozu as she produced a cloth from her torso. 

 

Aizawa looked up at the ceiling, squinting up at the lights. He listened to the roar of blood in his hears as he heard the crackle of ice from Todoroki’s quirk. Felt the ice cold of the cloth against his skin. He couldn’t tell if he flinched from that or the pain. But it was okay. It was bearable. 

 

The door clicked once more.

 

“Brilliant, you fucking extra’s are up as well.”

 

There was the sound of footsteps, no urgency in them.

 

“Don’t worry I only want some damn water-Fucking hell.”

 

“…Language,” Aizawa felt himself croak, his eyes drifting back down in time to see Bakugou crossing the kitchen, cup in hand.

 

“Is he okay?” Bakugou asked, ignoring his homeroom teacher. Or maybe Aizawa hadn’t spoken loudly enough. “Don’t you need to get someone?”

 

“It’s not too deep,” Yaoyorozu replied. Aizawa’s eyes focused just in time to see a tear roll down her cheek. 

 

“Hey, Momo?” Todoroki asked under his breath, his eyes focused on her face, watching as the tear rolled along the underside of her cheek. 

 

Aizawa raised his opposite arm, reaching across, wiping it away. 

 

“No crying.”

 

It was more of an ask than anything else. 

 

“What happened?” Bakugou asked, his voice suddenly on Aizawa’s other side, cup of water in hand. At first, Aizawa thought Bakugou had just poured it for himself, his original intention, but it was thrust towards himself instead. 

 

Aizawa took it, sipped at it. Watching the glass shake ever so slightly in his hand. 

 

“You’re filthy,” Bakugou added. Aizawa snorted slightly at that, regretting it as his side cried out in protest. 

 

“There was a villain,” Aizawa replied. “It was… annoying.”

 

This time it was Bakugou’s turn to snort. 

 

“Why didn’t you go to Recovery Girl or something?” he asked. His nonchalance brought a wave of calm to the room as Aizawa vaguely noticed the doorway fill once more. 

 

“No point waking that old woman up,” Aizawa replied, looking over to the other side of the room. 

 

Midoryia and Asui.

 

Carrying blankets. 

 

“Sorry,” Todoroki said, holding his phone up as they hovered. Just outside of Aizawa’s peripheral vision. “I messaged Midoryia for the blankets. Just him though.” 

 

“I could hear,” Asui offered as an explanation, tapping into the conversation.

 

Aizawa just nodded, watching Bakugou’s face stiffen up as he clocked Midoryia. It was sad, he supposed. Bakugou did that sort of instinctively. As if he was drawing up barricades. Aizawa saw himself in him far too much to try and offer any sort of advice. Time, he supposed. 

 

“It would be better if you could lie on the sofa,” Yaoyorozu spoke from beside him. Another nod. “Hey, Asui-“

 

She was beside them before Yaoyorozu finished her sentence, her eyebrows furrowed intensely, eyes unwavering. 

 

Sometimes, looking Asui in the eye could be unnerving. Every emotion she held, she could hold in a single gaze. 

 

“I can get up by myself,” Aizawa muttered, waving his students away, allowing himself time to mentally prepare to move again. “You don’t all need to be here.”

 

Ignored, he looked down at his side.

 

Yaoyorozu had cleared away the blood so only a trickle remained, filling up the gap between the two pieces of skin, overflowing where gravity had taken control. The cut itself was about thirty centimetres in length, deep, but not bleeding out. Probably needed stitches, but then again… it wasn’t the worst thing to have happened on a patrol. 

 

He steadied himself against the cabinet and forced his shaky legs to take his weight. Asui ignored his plea for independence, hooking her shoulder under his arm. 

 

“We should get Recovery Girl,” Aizawa heard Midoryia state. He sounded so mature when he was acting as a hero.

 

“I think so as well,” Todoroki echoed. Midoryia had crept up beside him, blanket in arms. Poised. The blanket was All Might themed. Of course. 

 

Aizawa allowed himself a chance to smirk as he continued to drag his feet across to the sofas. His whole body felt as if it was being weighted, pulled down by his own sense of fatigue, unwilling to fight. That always happened. As soon as Aizawa came home after patrol, this false sense of security that slowly turned his limbs to lead. 

 

He guessed maybe he was tired as well. 

 

“Hey, Sensei. Does this happen on patrol a lot?” 

 

Asui stared up at him doe-eyed. Aizawa knew she wasn’t naive but the way that she could look sometimes… 

 

“Only if I’m careless,” Aizawa replied with a small smile. That smile soon turned into a grimace as he lowered himself into the seat. 

 

Todoroki was already putting his shoes on. 

 

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” he called softly before opening the door and heading out. Aizawa heard the click from the doorframe and allowed himself to feel exactly how he wanted to feel for a moment. Pathetic. 

 

“You shouldn’t have to see this,” he sighed, shifting his position on the sofa so he was half-lying into the cushions. 

 

Midoryia placed a blanket over his legs, gently, like a child. 

 

“You’re shivering,” he offered as an explanation. Aizawa raised one eyebrow. He hadn’t noticed. 

 

There was a collective look. Something Aizawa wasn’t apart of. He was suddenly very aware that there were six of his students surrounding him, looking on, as if he was a patient. 

 

“What are you staring at?” he asked into the room, raising one arm to shield his eyes from the glare of the ceiling lights. 

 

He didn’t know what he was expecting anyone to reply but he certainly wasn’t expecting someone to flick him on the head. 

 

He pulled his arm down at once, twisting to see the perpetrator, stopping because of the pain in his side.

 

“Kacchan!” 

 

That answered that one. 

 

“Why would you do that?!” Midoryia continued, seemingly more shocked than Aizawa felt. 

 

“I don’t know,” he heard Bakugou reply with some deal of sincerity. “Just wanted to.”

 

A strange lie but Aizawa let his mind cling to it, try and investigate it instead of feeling the throbbing pain on his side, instead of feeling the heat of his students worried stares. Bakugou was telling him to snap out of it.

 

Oh. 

 

Bakugou was telling him to snap out of it.

 

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Aizawa stated, his voice clogging up in his throat. He didn’t know where he’d put the water. 

 

“You’re our teacher,” Asui pointed out, leaning herself over the top of the sofa.

 

“We want to protect you,” Yaoyorozu echoed, her cheerful voice betrayed by her biting the inside of her cheek. 

 

“Well, I appreciate that,” Aizawa sighed, wondering how his dark pessimistic demeanour hadn’t stamped out just how pure his students could be. He clearly wasn’t having the effect he used to. 

 

The room fell into a comfortable silence as Yaoyorozu continued to dab as the trickles of blood still making paths down his torso. Midoryia readjusted the blanket far more times than was necessary before sitting cross-legged on the floor next to him. At one point he picked up Aizawa’s wrist, taking him by surprise. 

 

“You don’t need to check my pulse. I didn’t lose too much blood.” 

 

Midoriya looked over at Yaoyorozu in response.

 

“It’s a little weak,” he whispered. Yaoyorozu nodded.

 

“Did you eat before you went on patrol?” she asked, looking up at him. Aizawa couldn’t avoid her gaze. 

 

“I got a bag of Crazt from the 7Eleven,” he muttered. “Ate half.”

 

Yaoyorozu nodded. Rather like a disappointed mother.

 

Bakugou came around from behind him, the glass of water in his hand. He placed it down on the floor beside the sofa, Midoryia shuffling up so he could sit. 

 

“Icy-Hot should be back soon,” he announced, his tone low, keeping quiet. Highlighting the fact that it was still the dead of the night. 

 

He looked down at his palms, flexing them gently. Aizawa went to ask him if he’d overused his quirk but it probably wasn’t the right time… 

 

“The villain…” Bakugou started, coughing slightly and looking up. “Did you get them?” 

 

Aizawa allowed the corner of his lips to rise.

 

“I got them good.”

 

The tension from the room slowly started to lift. 

 

It all seemed rather arbitrary. 

 

This place, and everything that surrounded it was placed here for protection, built with that as it’s core and yet… It was funny…

 

Humans had a wonderful way of taking their surroundings and turning them a home. Whether reluctantly or not. 

 

And surroundings included the people within them as well. 

Chapter 50: The Weight on Her Shoulders pt1

Summary:

The shadow grew across the coach, shrouding Uraraka in darkness as she opened her mouth to cry out. Her words almost sounded as if they were coming from a comedy show, something Sero would show them subtitled from American TV...

“STOP THE COACH!”

Notes:

YO! So I have some APOLOGISING to do!!

I am so sorry that I have been gone for a week. I moved to London! And we had no internet... And then Yahoo crashed! And then Ao3 did server updates... ahhhh. But everything is good! My flat backs onto the Thames and I booked two auditions this week - I wish y'all could come over and we could watch MHA and chill together...

In the meantime THANK YOU so so much for being patient with me and for reaching 50 chapters with me! The normal upload schedule will resume this week :)

This chapter was prompted by the incredible Maemi who deserves so much love

I'll see y'all on Friday xx

Uraraka remembered the first thing that she’d ever made float.

 

It was a little toy car, her cousins at a New Years family celebration. One moment she remembered grabbing the toy with both hands and the next it was flying upwards, whistling past her nose. Like a helium balloon, floating into the sky, never to be seen again. 

 

Of course, it was seen again. The toy had clattered onto the ceiling, one of the little plastic wing mirrors coming off in the process. Her cousin had cried through the rest of the New Year’s dinner, a contrast to her parents who had just been proud, grateful probably, that her quirk had finally appeared. 

 

Uraraka remembered looking up at the little toy car and wondering if one day she would be able to lift a real car. 

 

“Uraraka, you still with me?” 

 

Her teacher's voice was grounded, pulling her from her daydreams and back into reality. She opened one eye, watching her shaking legs for a moment before lifting her head up. Aizawa’s hand was on one arm, almost gripping her or maybe it was that he was holding her up? She tried to nod, failed but managed to at least communicate something.

 

“It’s okay, not long. You’re doing brilliantly.”

 

It was almost laughable, considering.

 

She knew how much trouble she was already in. Running into danger? Recklessly? But somehow she knew that she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself. It was as if her body had moved on its own, on instinct. 

 

She tried to look up at the world above her, blocked by concrete. Her fingertips were numb from the way that she held her hands together as if her body had forgotten to think about them. Like they’d been in the same position for so long that they might as well not exist.

 

She’d only been holding up the building for five minutes. Max. And not even the whole building. Just the front wall. Kind of. Uraraka didn’t know. It didn’t matter, she told herself. As long as everyone was safe.

 

Besides, if she let go of her quirk now… The building would fall on their heads.

 

--

 

Thirty-two and a half minutes earlier

 

“All I’m saying is that there are no good doughnut chains in Japan. Like none at all. Not compared to America!”

 

Kaminari’s voice rang clear through the coach, being met by a collective sigh and a few grunts of agreement. 

 

“Fuck. Off!” Ojiro cried back, turning in his seat next to Jiro. “I’m sorry but have you tried Mister Donuts new seasonal pon-de-ring? Because it is the hands-down the best doughnut in the world.”

 

“You haven’t tried Krispy Kreme!” Kaminari retorted. “They have cake doughnuts!" CAKE doughnuts!”

 

Class 1A was on their way to Shiketsu High School for a training weekend that, for once, Yagi had the initiative to set up. He was sat next to Aizawa up at the front of the coach whilst most of the students had piled into the back. 

 

Uraraka removed a headphone from her ear, handing it over to Iida who she was sharing the music with. She pulled her seatbelt away from her chest, turning to hear the conversation better. 

 

“Nah! You either want a cake or a doughnut, why the fuck would you want both in one? That’s just complicated!” Ojiro replied laughing. 

 

“Language!” Aizawa called from upfront, his voice predictably monotone. Ojiro looked his way but was still smirking. 

 

Todoroki lazily opened one eye but instead of joining in with the discussion, he took off his jacket, placing it over his head. 

 

“You can’t talk unless you’ve tried a cake doughnut,” Kaminari shrugged. 

 

“What about, if you took a doughnut and a cake and ate them at the same time?” Ashido asked, grinning. 

 

Bakugou outwardly groaned at that causing Uraraka to giggle at him. He rolled his eyes at her but she could just about see his mouth twitch upwards as he turned to watch life go by out of the window. 

 

“Hey! Sato!” Asui called, turning around in her seat at the front of the coach. “What do you think about cake doughnuts?”

 

Sato looked up from his place on the back seat, looking across at his classmates. 

 

“It depends. Having a cake but then frying it like a doughnut could dry the texture out…” he replied thoughtfully. 

 

“See!” Ojiro yelled triumphantly. “SEE!” 

 

“No!” Kaminari cried. “You can’t say that until you’ve tried one! And neither of you have tried one!” 

 

Uraraka laughed at the serious look on Kaminari’s face, turning back around to look out of her window, the trees flicking by as the coach made its way out of the main city.

 

And that’s when she spotted it. 

 

A large figure was looming just across the trees, thrashing its body weight across the space between it and them. At first, she thought her eyes were tricking her but instinctively her hand went out to grab Iida’s arm, pointing out the window, mouth forming a small ‘o’.

 

“Okay, we need a vote!” Kaminari called out as Iida leant across to where Uraraka was motioning. “Those who think that doughnuts in Japan are better raise your right hand, and those who think American ones are better raise your left!” 

 

“What is it?” Iida whispered to Uraraka as he peered out of the window, readjusting his glasses. 

 

“I don’t know, an attraction maybe? The big concert hall is nearby right?” Uraraka replied as laughter erupted from behind her.

 

“Shit! Which hand is my left?” Kaminari asked, Jiro reaching across to keep his right arm up in the air. “Stop it!”

 

“I like the French Crueller one they sell,” Aoyama absentmindedly mentioned as Kaminari continued to fight Jiro for the use of his arm. 

 

Both Uraraka and Iida watched as the outlined figure got larger and larger… 

 

“It’s a villain..!” Iida hissed, unclipping his seatbelt and standing quickly. “Sensei!”

 

“There were people that didn’t even vote!” Kaminari continued, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. 

 

“Iida! Sit down!” Aizawa called behind him as Uraraka started to hear screams in the distance, a large shadow growing closer and closer...

 

“Uraraka! Iida! You didn’t vote!” Kaminari cried. “We’ll have to do it aga-”

 

“There’s a villain!” Iida yelled over the noise. 

 

The shadow grew across the coach, shrouding Uraraka in darkness as she opened her mouth to cry out. Her words almost sounded as if they were coming from a comedy show, something Sero would show them subtitled from American TV...

 

“STOP THE COACH!”

 

She vaguely saw Midoryia standing from his seat, a flash of brilliant green light before day seemed to turn to night and she was thrown to the side, the coach spinning on its wheels, her head hitting the window with an almighty crack.

 

The next noise that came from her mouth was a scream.

 

--

 

In the back of Aizawa’s mind, he calculated how close they were to the school. Far away enough that this villain attack wouldn’t hit them before they had time to escape, but too far that there was no way they were close enough to provide back up. 

 

That was his only thought in the few seconds between the shadow shrouding the coach and a claw slamming into the roof. 

 

The coach spun, throwing its contents across the place. Aizawa found himself winded by his seatbelt as he was thrown forwards, slamming one palm into the window to steady himself. His other arm instinctively reached out across Yagi’s chest, pushing him back into his seat.

 

“Fuck-”

 

There weren’t as many screams as he expected. Definitely, Ashido, although that was a scream of surprise, Mineta as well... but there was someone else… 

 

Aizawa fumbled with his seatbelt, using the arm that held Yagi back to keep him balanced. The stupid thing kept jamming between the belt, his fingers slipping off. 

 

At least the villain had seemed to move on. For once, they weren’t the target. A selfish blessing. 

 

All at once, Yagi was gone from under his arm, the roof of the coach creaking from its instability, the sound of electricity powering up. Finally, the seatbelt gave way, releasing across Aizawa’s chest, giving him the freedom to stand up, turn to inspect the damage. 

 

The roof had mangled, the metal manipulated like toffee, right in the centre of the coach. Looking down, Aizawa could make out a UA uniform, red shoes. A tuff of green hair…

 

“Midoryia!”

 

The teenager cried out as green electricity rippled through his body, culminating at his left arm, his back arching from where he was laid on the floor. His arm was trapped under the crushed metal but his quirk was pushing it up slowly but surely… It was as if time had slowed, it dawning on Aizawa what had just happened...

 

He felt Yagi push past him, crouching down and helping roll Midoryia from under the metal. The kid's arm was definitely broken, blue and purple. He was shaking his head teeth gritted as Yagi was checking him over. 

 

“I’m fine, I’m fine… ”

 

Aizawa looked up, scanning his eyes around the rest of the vehicle.

 

“Is everyone okay?” 

 

He couldn’t see much past the caved roof, couldn’t tell if his students were okay, but from those his side-

 

“Aizawa!” 

 

Asui poked her head up from her seat as both Aizawa and Yagi, gingerly made their way down the centre of the coach, making sure not to dislodge any of the debris as they did. 

 

“Asui.”

 

Aizawa crouched down beside her, instinctively looking her over, making sure she was okay. She’d crouched down on impact to stop the roof from hitting her, her tiny frame just about fitting into the space between the two seats. But although she seemed unscathed, there was a look of panic across her face, eyes wild. 

 

Someone was crying. 

 

“Help,” was all she asked, grunting slightly as she manoeuvred her frame to one side, letting Aizawa see. 

 

Beside her, crouched just the same but with one arm hanging, ripped from the broken metal above, was Yaoyorozu.

 

Shit. 

 

--

 

Uraraka opened her eyes seconds later. Iida was hunched over her, his arms wrapped around her head, keeping her from getting hit by what seemed to be the roof of the coach, caved in on top of them. 

 

“Oh my…”

 

“Come on,” Iida replied, unclipping her seatbelt and pulling her down so they could crawl away from the gaping roof. 

 

“Are you okay?” Uraraka asked as they moved towards the back of the coach. Iida nodded. 

 

“Is everybody alright?” he called out to the back of the coach. There was a moment before a couple called out, a few affirmative noises, a couple of ‘yes’s’. 

 

“Where’s Deku..?” Uraraka asked softly, her voice interrupted by a shout towards the back of the coach.

 

“I can’t wake Todoroki up!” 

 

Kaminari’s voice was panicked as Iida and Uraraka attempted to clamber through the mess of uniform bags and pieces of seat debris. 

 

“I think he was asleep before we crashed,” he continued to explain as the two drew closer. “I don’t think he saw it coming and I didn’t have time to hold him back or anything so he must have hit his head against the window or the seat-“

 

“Calm down,” Jiro cried, as she knelt next to them, Ojiro close behind. She was covering her elbow slightly, a thin cut trickling blood, just about on-show. “He’s breathing, yeah?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

Uraraka looked up at Todoroki, feeling herself tense up. The boy had lolled himself against the window but he looked as if he was still sleeping. The jacket had been pulled from his head and a small bruise was already forming beside his temple. 

 

“Let me get to him,” Jiro asked, leaning across Kaminari and feeling for Todoroki’s pulse. Uraraka stood, turning to the back of the coach. 

 

“Everyone else is fine, right?” Bakugou’s voice snapped. Beside him, Ashido and Hagakure were still hugging. “It’s just Icy-Hot?” 

 

“I think so!” Iida called back. 

 

“Right then let’s fucking get out of here,” Bakugou replied, twisting his head before apparently spotting something out of the corner of his eye. 

 

“Get out of here?” Mineta echoed. 

 

“We might be safer outside,” Iida offered as Todoroki began to stir in his seat. 

 

“He’s waking up!” Jiro exclaimed as he did. Uraraka watched as Bakugou grabbed the safety hammer from the wall, ushering Shoji and Tokoyami out of the seats under it. 

 

“Don’t move him,” Shoji called as he moved. 

 

“Deku..!” Uraraka called. There was a moment’s pause before-

 

“I’m here! Don’t worry I’m fine!” 

 

Uraraka placed her palm on the metal of the bus that had caved. She imagined Midoryia doing the same. Like in one of those old movies her dad used to make her watch when she was a child. With the old fashioned superheroes that looked like 8-bit games...

 

“Are you okay?” Midoryia asked. 

 

The present looked rather bleak in comparison.

 

“I’m okay!” Uraraka called back. “Can you get out?”

 

“The door’s jammed, but I’ll smash it!” Mirdoryia’s voice came through. “We need to get the villain!”

 

“The villain!” Uraraka cried, seemingly without even thinking, her voice escaping her before her mind could take a moment to think. 

 

“Fucking exactly,” Bakugou muttered as Uraraka came up beside him. “Move it, I’m smashing the window.”

 

“What do you mean ‘the villain’?” Kirishima called from where he was ripping his t-shirt to help stem a cut on Ayoama’s arm. “You going to go fight?”

 

“Yes!” Uraraka replied, her voice determined. “We have to. It wasn’t aiming for us, it was aiming north!” 

 

“What’s over there?” Kirishima asked, his voice muffled as he pulled Aoyama’s bandage tighter with his mouth. 

 

“Tokyo city you fucking idiot,” Bakugou replied, raising his arm and bringing it down on the window, hard. There was a smash of glass, the students surround it, covering their faces. 

 

“I should stay here as class representative!” Iida called. “But, then again, as a hero-in-training maybe my priority should be fighting the villain…”

 

"No! You can get there the fastest!" Bakugou snarled in reply, hooking his legs onto the window pane and looking around outside the window. "The street's empty, we can jump out here."

 

Uraraka watched as the rest of the class looked around at one another, a mix of determination, a small handful of smiles. Yeah, it was a shit situation but this was what they were they had been working towards. This was why they were training to become heroes and Uraraka wasn't going to let her training go to waste...

 

“Iida!” she called, a plan forming in her mind. “I need a favour!”

 

--

 

“What was that?!” Aizawa cried as the sound of smashing glass came from the other side of the coach. No one replied to him. Typically. "Midoryia?!"

 

Yaoyorozu was keeping it together well but Aizawa could already see bone, he knew how bad she was cut. Asui did as well, her hand reaching across to stoke the older girls cheek, keeping her from looking in the direction. 

 

"Everyone's okay!" Midoryia called. "I think!"

 

Aizawa clenched his teeth. 

 

“Hold on.” 

 

He stood up, looking around. They were right at the top end of the coach meaning that apart from him, Yagi and four of 1A, the rest were stuck where Aizawa couldn’t get to them. 

 

"The driver is knocked out!" Yagi called across, the rest of Aizawa's breath leaving him in one fell swoop. This was bad.

 

“Shoji!” he yelled, feeling his heartbeat rise a little.

 

“Sensei?” 

 

The familiar and somewhat unharmed tone of Shoji’s voice relaxed him slightly. 

 

"We need to fight the villain!" Midoryia was calling from beside him. 

 

 

"Quiet!" Aizawa snapped turning his attention back to the other side of the coach. “Shoji, can you get to the side?” he called, mentally thinking his plan through in his head. “On your right.”

 

“Yes,” Shoji replied after a moment. Aizawa lowered himself next to Asui once more, reaching over her head. 

 

“Shoji you there?” he asked, grunting slightly as he scratched his own arm on the jagged edge of the metal.

 

“Yes, I think so,” Shoji replied, his voice sounding close. 

 

"The door opens!" Yagi's voice came from somewhere behind. 

 

“Only if it’s safe to do so,” Aizawa stressed. “I need you to help me lift this piece of metal up from Yaoyorozu’s arm, can you see it? Can you see her hand?” 

 

There was a pause, Yaoyorozu whimpering slightly. Whether it was at the thought of having to move her arm or the way Aizawa had described her hand as being on the other side of the broken coach, he didn’t know. 

 

What he was becoming aware of was the fact that the sleeve of his arm was slowly becoming damp from the blood soaking into the teenager's seat. 

 

“ Fuck.. . Sorry! Yes. I can see it,” Shoji replied. “I can lift it but hold on a moment, I’ll have to get something to put over my hands. It’s sharp.” 

 

“Okay,” Aizawa replied, the scent of blood hitting the back of his throat. “Is anyone else injured?” 

 

“Not badly,” Shoji called back, his voice travelling. 

 

Not badly could mean anything when it came to 1A’s but Aizawa would take it as a good sign. 

 

A pang of guilt rose in Aizawa’s chest. He did not like being weaker than his own students. It wasn’t fair. 

 

A crash sounded from somewhere far away, the villain still at large. There was still a chance it could come back. 

 

“Okay, I’m ready,” Shoji called, bringing Aizawa back to the present. 

 

“Right we’re going to do this in one okay?” he said, catching Yaoyorozu’s eyes. They were already distant, tired, but she nodded softly. “On the count of three, Shoji I want you to lift. As high as you can. I’m going to pull Yaoyorozu’s arm out of the way and then I’ll call ‘release’. Then you can lower the metal back down but as slow as possible or it’ll compromise the structure this side. Okay?”

 

“Got it!” Shoji replied quickly. “I’m ready.”

 

“Okay. Three. Two. One!” 

 

There was a creak of metal as slowly but surely the coach roof rose. Aizawa tried to focus on hooking his arm through the gap over Asui’s head rather than Yaoyorozu’s muted cries as the edge of the broken structure tore the cut deeper. A few seconds later and Aizawa could grab her hand, pulling her arm through the gap. 

 

This time Yaoyorozu couldn’t help but scream, her voice piercing Aizawa’s eardrums and causing his breath to catch in his throat. 

 

“R-Release!” 

 

Shoji did, a little quicker than Aizawa had hoped. He guided Yaoyorozu’s arm to her lap, reaching back around the seat and pulling his capture weapon from around his neck with his spare hand. He wrapped it around her forearm, forcing the metal alloy into place. Hard. 

 

Yaoyorozu gasped as the white of Aizawa’s bandage slowly seeped red. The colour of her skin was starting to match the whites of her eyes but she looked up at him, face determined.

 

“I could make some structures,” she breathed, her voice a whisper. “To hold up the roof.”

 

“You’ll pass out,” Aizawa replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. “The pros will be here soon, it’ll be okay.”

 

“But everybody else…” Yaoyorozu began to reply, her eyelids slow. Aizawa’s hand moved to cup her cheek, shaking her slightly. 

 

“Stay awake for me,” he muttered. 

 

“I can do that,” Asui said, shuffling herself closer to the two of them. Aizawa thought about it for a moment before nodding. They’d be fine. 

 

“Shoji!”

 

“Sensei?” 

 

“Can you get everybody out?” Aizawa asked. “Is it safe to do so?”

 

There was a pause. Aizawa didn’t feel any tension in the air but somehow he knew what was coming. Knew what Shoji was about to say. 

 

“It is…” the teenager replied. “But most of us have gone to fight already.”

 

—

 

The coach wasn’t far from the hall. 

 

Uraraka could see it from where she had been hoisted up onto Iida’s back, gripping onto his shoulders for dear life as he ran, quirk activated. Even under the dire circumstances, it felt like a rush of adrenaline. Like a theme park ride. 

 

As they grew closer Uraraka could feel Iida fault in his step. 

 

“I’ll use my quirk,” she stated quickly, her voice coming out as a whisper, lost to the wind. 

 

“Can you?” Iida called back, his voice more worried than disbelieving. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“ Fuck it’s going to fucking collapse.”

 

Bakugou’s voice was a way behind, his speed keeping up by the force of his explosions. Both Uraraka and Iida could still hear though. They crossed the main roads with ease, the cars stopping to prevent getting caught up with the disaster happening before them. 

 

“Uraraka! Now!”

 

“Got it!” Uraraka shouted back as Iida screeched to a stop just outside Suntory Hall. The huge building looked as if it was cracking under the pressure, a roar from inside, screams to follow. The two heroes-in-training looked on as people ran out of the building tripping over their own feet. Uraraka’s eye was drawn towards a toddler, a boy only about three of four years old. His mother ran out of the collapsing structure first, a baby in her arms, her shirt burnt at the bottom, charred and flailing in the smoke. 

 

The boy wasn’t going to make it. The front structure of the building was teetering as if it was hanging by a thread, just about to snap. One more rumble from the main hall and Uraraka could see the whole thing falling. And the villain was still inside. 

 

Iida could see it as well, running forwards, his already over-exerted legs pushing through the pain once more to try and grab the child. Uraraka ran without thinking. She pictured Midoryia in her mind, the determined look on his face, the way that he would run like he had no other purpose but to do his best. His best as a hero.

 

And that’s what she was. A hero. 

 

Placing both palms together she braced for the impact, thrusting both arms up into the air. The concrete fell directly above her head. One wrong move and she was dead. Instantly. 

 

“URARAKA!” 

 

Iida’s yelling just about made it over the rumble of the falling building as the girl screwed her eyes shut. Praying that she had the strength.

 

“There are more people coming through!” another voice yelled from behind her. “Keep holding it Round Face!”

 

Uraraka cracked open an eye, dust clouding her vision. Her hands felt weightless but looking up above her the sky was no longer in sight. Replaced by half the front wall of the Suntory Hall. 

 

She was doing it. 

 

—

 

Back at the coach, Aizawa could feel himself growing restless. Even though he knew his students were capable there was a sense of overwhelming doom, that something was wrong. Call it teachers intuition, even though he would swear he didn't have such a thing.

 

“I’m going.”

 

Aizawa fixed Yagi with a hard stare as he felt the older mans hand come down onto his shoulder. He expected him to argue back but instead Yagi squeezed his shoulder before letting go, returning his stare with one of determination. 

 

“They’ll be safe under my care,” he replied softly. 

 

Aizawa nodded swiftly, returning the gesture and looking down at Midoryia. 

 

“Are you coming?” he asked. 

 

The teenager looked up at him, eyes wide but sparkling, still cradling his broken arm. 

 

“But... my arm..!” he replied, more so in disbelief than anything else. 

 

“That hasn’t stopped you before,” Aizawa reminded him, an eyebrow raised. The corner of his mouth turned up, grinning. “Hold on.” 

 

He looked around quickly trying to figure out if there was something he could use to sling the boy’s arm up. No point dragging him into a potential battlefield if he wasn’t of any use. His capture weapon would be the best option but he might need it so...

 

Without giving it a second thought he pulled his jumper up over his head, passing it over to his student. 

 

“Tie your arm up and let’s go.” 

 

Midoryia took the jumper, nodding and hopping up onto both feet. 

 

“How fast can you run?” Aizawa asked, kicking open the caved in door. 

 

“Fast!” Midoryia replied. 

 

“Come on then."

Chapter 51: The Weight on Her Shoulder pt2

Summary:

The villain had already moved on, it was like it was trying to leave a trail of destruction in its path. Iida had said it looked like a Nomu. Uraraka had tried to nod but it ended up being futile. Every effort had to go on holding the building up. Or people would die.

Correction. More people would die.

Notes:

It's currently my half-hour call before I go onstage at the theatre! But I'm here and I'm posting! Thank you all for being so patient whilst I've been moving and auditioning etc! And I hope you enjoy the chapter! x

Uraraka watched as her friends tried to pile people out of the hall as fast as they could. It felt as if she was caught up in some sort of natural disaster or something rather than a villain attack… 

 

Kirishima was leading, using his quirk to break the glass doors and help people clamber out. The villain had already moved on, it was like it was trying to leave a trail of destruction in its path. Iida had said it looked like a Nomu. Uraraka had tried to nod but it ended up being futile. Every effort had to go on holding the building up. Or people would die. 

 

Correction. More people would die. 

 

“Yo! We’re here!” a voice came from just in front of her. Uraraka tried to look up but she buckled, forced to look downwards, trying desperately to raise her eye line. 

 

“Kaminari, help people out!” Kirishima yelled. 

 

“How many people?!” Kaminari cried in reply. His voice was moving around Uraraka. 

 

Her arms were aching. 

 

“They were in the middle of a damn concert, so hundreds!” Bakugou called. 

 

“Bakugou! Language! You have a child on your back!” Iida’s voice came from somewhere distant. 

 

“Oh, he knows that word already! All children do!” 

 

“Is there a back emergency exit or something?” Kaminari asked. 

 

“I was going to have a look after I broke these windows open,” Kirishima called. “Hey Uraraka!”

 

Uraraka tensed slightly. Tried to look up again but her arms were shaking too much. Soon her legs would as well. She barely had a clue what was going on.

 

“If I broke one more window could you still hold it?” Kirishima continued, his voice cutting clear through the commotion. 

 

Of course. Breaking the glass meant breaking most of the structural supports. 

 

This is one weird concert hall, but I love the extra strain being piled onto the poor girl 

 

“Yeah..!” Uraraka managed to choke. She could do it. She’d done worse in training. 100%.

 

There was a noise, the sound of shattering around her, violent and piercing and right in her eardrums. It was followed by coughing as a wave of dust fogged the air around her, forcing her to shut her watering eyes.

 

“Okay! I’m going in! Kaminari come with!” Kirishima called, his voice echoed by the empty concert call walls. 

 

“Yep!”

 

“Be careful,” Bakugou growled. 

 

Uraraka’s legs began to shake. 

 

--

 

“Erasurehead!” 

 

Aizawa looked up above him as he saw the familiar figure of Best Jeanist 

 

“What’s the situation?” Aizawa yelled watching as the pro hooked his fabric threads onto a nearby lamppost, swinging around the corner. 

 

The trio were approaching the city centre. Aizawa had to admit he was barely keeping up with Midoryia, the kid powering his quirk through his legs. He reckoned Midoryia could probably run a speed to challenge Iida. 

 

“Where’s the villain now?” Midoryia asked, one arm still cradling the broken one, wrapped up in Aizawa’s pullover. 

 

“Trailing it’s way into Tokyo!” Best Jeanist called back. “Hawks is already there, the situation should be under control. I’m just tailing behind, there’s been some buildings damaged.”

 

The pro dropped down into a run beside them, looking up and down at Midoryia, eyebrows raised. 

 

“Why? You already been fighting?”

 

“Our bus got trampled on,” the teen replied. 

 

“Ouch.” 

 

“Most of my students have followed it,” Aizawa added, steering the conversation back on track as he desperately scanned his surroundings for a way to hoist himself up onto one of the buildings. If he could do that, then he could see what was going on. 

 

“I expect nothing less from the reckless 1A,” Best Jeanist mused, his voice hardly stopping for breath, despite the speed they were running. 

 

Aizawa spotted it, a gap between two buildings, just wide enough-

 

“There!” 

 

Best Jeanist had spotted it as well, lifting himself high into the air, forcing Aizawa to follow on behind.Midoryia caught wind of what was going on pretty quickly, using his quirk to power himself between the two buildings. Jumping up them like an off-balanced spiderman, his broken arm lagging him slightly. Despite this, he still managed to make it onto the roof before the two pro’s, scanning his surroundings before stopping to point. 

 

“What is it?” Best Jeanist asked, landing beside him as Aizawa caught a glimpse of the view, propelling himself into the air to join the duo. 

 

“Suntory Hall,” he answered quickly. “It looks like the entire thing is going to collapse.”

 

“I see explosions as well!” Midoryia pointed out as Best Jeanist set off once more, heading straight into the direction of the falling building. 

 

“Bakugou…” Aizawa breathed. 

 

--

 

Sixty seconds seemed like an awfully long amount of time. So Uraraka would make it go by quicker by sounding it out in her head. Phonetically. 

 

Ichi. Ni. San. Shi. Go. Roku. Nana. Hatchi. Kyuu. Juu. 

 

If she focused on something else then she wouldn’t have to think about the pain in her arms. It felt like her muscles were ripping apart from one another. She could see it, in her mind, her lungs trying to push themselves out of her rib cage as if there just wasn't enough space. Causing her skin to itch, her breathing to quicken…

 

Juu-I-chi. Juu-Ni. Juu-San.

 

There was a father escorting his wife straight past her. They had to bend down to get under the wall she was holding. Sometime during the last three minutes, she’d lowered her arms. 

 

Ni-Juu-Go. Ni-Juu-Roku. 

 

And now she couldn’t get them up again. 

 

Yon-Juu-Nana. Yon-Juu-Hatchi.

 

As they passed, they accidentally stepped on her foot, the sudden pain spiking suddenly, erupting into her vision, making her forget everything. Just for a second. 

 

“There’s an exit at the back!” a voice called. “And the pro’s are on their way!” 

 

Euphoria. 

 

Shit. 

 

She’d lost her place counting. 

 

Ichi. Ni. San.

 

She could start over.

 

Shi. Go. Roku.

 

She could last. Besides, she was hardly feeling nauseous yet, a new record for her. Proof that she was getting stronger. 

 

Juu-I-chi. Juu-Ni.

 

“Bakugou! I need your help! There’s someone trapped down here, Kirishima’s busy, you need to blast this out!” 

 

Panic rose in Urarka’s chest, dispelling any excitement that she was getting stronger. A fear, stronger than her strength, instead, an impending sense of doom that seemed to warp her mind.

 

What was she thinking? She couldn’t do this..! If there was any more explosions, if any more of the building came down from the inside then there was no way that her legs would keep her up. No way. And then if the building went down then, then she would put her friends in danger… Bakugou, Kirishima… Kaminari… 

 

“Wait!”

 

Her voice felt loud, but it came out barely a whisper as she saw Bakugou run past her and into the building. She couldn’t turn to stop him, she couldn’t do anything . She couldn’t even plug her ears to stop the noise as Bakugou slammed his quirk into the floor above them.

 

The effect was immediate, almost as if Uraraka predicting that such a thing would happen, made it become some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. Her knees buckled and she let them, her body slamming into the hard pavement. 

 

Now she screamed, a sound that she didn’t even believe could come out of her… 

 

“Uraraka!”

 

She recognised that voice… 

 

Deku. 

 

Which meant, the pros..? Right..? 

 

Maybe it was the thought of not wanting to look weak in front of the heroes that she admired… Maybe it was Midoryia’s voice, worried about her. He shouldn't be worried about her. She was fine. She had to be fine… 

 

Letting out another scream, she heard her voice crack. She imagined herself sounding like one of those professional athletes, putting everything into doing the best she  possibly could. Instead, she just sounded as if she was in pain. 

 

There was a roaring in her ears, the scent of blood filling her nostrils. She could no longer smell, blood clogging up her nose, dripping onto the pavement below. She felt the bile rise in her throat, finally the nausea rearing its ugly head. Fuck. She couldn’t breathe. Choking on her vomit she leant forward over her knees, holding her hands high, stopping the building from falling anymore… 

 

There was a hand on her back. Rubbing circles into her, helping her to throw up, to clear her throat. She gasped for air, ignoring- no- welcoming how painful it was to breathe in acid.

 

“Breathe Uraraka, come on, breathe for me. You’re doing good.”

 

The voice from behind her, she knew… Just about hearing her teachers voice over the roar, over the commotion. It was enough though. She wanted to turn, yell at him ‘ I know!’. But she was grateful, someone was beside her and she didn’t have to do it all alone.

 

Maybe another minute had gone..? 

 

Another minute she’d survived on her own.

 

--

 

As soon as the trio arrived at the scene, Aizawa could tell that it was going to be…

 

Rough . 

 

“The building’s coming down!” Best Jeanist cried from beside them. 

 

“No, it’s not…” Aizawa remarked under his breath, scanning the area around them, looking for one student in particular… 

 

“Uraraka!”

 

Midoryia had spotted her first, running towards the entrance of the hall which was floating upwards in mid-air. At first, he didn’t understand why. If Uraraka could hold up the entrance in such a way then she could easily float the debris down to the ground. But the closer they got, the more he understood what she was really trying to do. 

 

The rest of his students, the ones that had managed to join the fight, were all trying desperately to help people out of the collapsing building. Somehow there has just been another explosion, Bakugou probably. 

 

Aizawa watched as Kaminari ran out of the building, just quick enough to catch a falling wire from the overhead electricity pole, his body erupting into light.

 

“HELL YEAH!” 

 

“I’m going to hold up the structure!” Best Jeanist called as he launched himself back into the air.

 

Midoryia was already running towards the collapsing form of Uraraka but Kirishima ran across him. 

 

“Midoryia! We need you!” Aizawa heard him shout, he could see a group of elderly women following the teen, one of them holding onto her arm in the same familiar way that MIdoryia was. 

 

“But Uraraka..!”

 

“Midoryia!” Aizawa heard himself call after him. “I’ve got her!” 

 

“I’M ALL PUMPED UP! Kaminari cried from the other side of the hall’s entrance. Seemingly, getting charged with non-static electricity fired the kid up more than made him dumb. Aizawa would have to keep that in mind. 

 

“You won’t be of any use here,” Aizawa called across to him. “Go and join the main fight!”

 

Kaminari gave him a look, his eyes widening further, a smile breaking out across his face. 

 

“Really?!” 

 

“ Chargebolt ,” Aizawa replied, using the kid's hero name as both an answer and explanation to the question. It worked. Aizawa had never seen the kid so pumped up. 

 

“I’ll go with him!” Iida called. “Now the pro’s are here I think I would be more use-”

 

“Just go!” Aizawa cried at the kid, forcing Iida to reply with a nod, allowing Kaminari to jump on his back and running off at such speed that it caused a gust of wind to trail behind them. 

 

Uraraka didn't seem to register anything that was going on around her. Her face was white, her hair sticking to her cheeks, eyes pinned to the floor. She was retching but still had her quirk activated, her hands reaching up to the sky, shaking and colourless. 

 

Aizawa wondered how long she’d been there… Five minutes? Maybe more? Usually that was fine, but she was holding up at least 900 pounds worth of brickwork… Nine times her own body weight..? She’d pass out before anything else and then what would happen? 

 

Well, she’d be crushed under the weight… And so would he but that was irrelevant. 

 

“Breathe Uraraka, come on, breathe for me. You’re doing good,” he managed to say, watching as the girl struggled for breath. He wondered whether carrying such a weight was crushing her lungs. “Best Jeanist!”

 

“I’m nearly there!’ the voice called from above. “Just give me a minute!”

 

“We don’t have a minute!’ Aizawa shouted back but he doubted his voice was even heard. Bakugou ran out of the building just beside him, a young woman hoisted in his arms.

 

“Where are the emergency services?!” he asked quickly. He was covered in dust, coating his eyelashes, making him look almost ethereal . “They should be here by now!”

 

“I don’t know,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“We need them, there are too many people injured,” Bakugou snarled. 

 

“You know basic first aid,” Aizawa pointed out. “Do what you can.”

 

“I am ,” Bakugou retorted before running off, reuniting the woman with her family before ducking under the debris and running back into the building. Aizawa watched him do so with a mixture of pride and worry filling his chest. 

 

The destruction being caused by just one Nomu was getting to levels where even the emergency services in Tokyo were struggling...

 

“Done!” Best Jeanist called from above. “I think it should hold!”

 

Aizawa trusted him enough. 

 

“Uraraka, you can release your quirk,” he spoke softly, placing one hand under his student's chin, lifting her head up to face his own. 

 

Her eyes were vacant, just about coming back to life as she clocked him. The blood dripping from her nose fresh but drying around her mouth. Running down her chin, staining the collar of her T-shirt. 

 

She just about managed to form her lips to say ‘release’, tipping forwards, her eyes rolling back into her head. 

 

Aizawa shifted position, quickly hoisting her up by armpits and pulling the girl into his lap. She was dead weight, her breath still quick, arms limp by her side. 

 

Aizawa held her close. Told himself it wasn’t a hug. Just a way of sheltering her. Away from everything. 

 

“Is she okay?” 

 

He turned to see Bakugou, hoisting a kid on his back, another clasped onto his arm. His eyes were flicking between the civilians and Uraraka, mouth twisted into a grimace. 

 

“She’s fine, passed out,” Aizawa replied, his hand finding its way to Uraraka’s wrist. Checking for her pulse. It was evening out. Slowly.

 

“How many people left to come out?!” Best Jeanist called from above them, tugging on his fabric restraints. 

 

“I’d say like twenty-odd?” Kirishima called back, emerging from the entrance. He was covered in dust, cuts littering his exposed skin. “But some people didn’t make it...” the teenager continued, just about holding himself together as he spoke. 

 

Aizawa lifted Uraraka up with ease, watching as a familiar green-haired idiot ran towards them, broken arm flailing behind him. 

 

“Bakugou!” he called as he watched the teenager pass the kids off to the emergency services. “Take her.” 

 

Bakugou turned, eyes wide but did as he was told, hooking his arms under Uraraka and taking her weight. Aizawa gave him a quick nod before jogging to where Kirishima had emerged from  

 

“It’s okay,” he said, placing a hand on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’ll get the dead.” 

 

“Sensei...”

 

“Just stay here,” he continued. “You’ve done well.” 

 

He tried to ignore the tears in his student's eyes and entered the building. 

 

—

 

Uraraka felt as if the world had become light again. She was floating, floating in mid-air. But something was holding her down, a grip on her wrist pulling her back to reality. 

 

Voices merged and divided around her. 

 

“Is she okay?!” 

 

“She’s fucking fine Deku. You’re the one that’s not.”

 

“I’m okay!”

 

“Bullshit. Shit- she’s waking up. Oi! Round face!”

 

“Uraraka! Are you okay??”

 

Uraraka tried to pull her eyelids apart but it was as if they were stuck together by glue. She didn’t want to wake up, she was content with the voices dancing around in her unconscious mind... But there was a hand, clammy but delicate pulling away strands of hair from her face. 

 

“You did it!” a voice said. It was calming and for a moment Uraraka couldn’t place what she’d done. But then her fingertips seemed to come to life, tingling and roaring with the pressure as they regained circulation. 

 

“Let her sleep ,” a voice growled. Protective. 

 

“Okay. I just wanted her to know-“

 

Another hand, moving from her wrist to her hand. Uraraka tried to squeeze it back but she couldn’t. The voice became a whisper, hot against the side of her face. 

 

“-You did it. You saved all those people Uraraka!”

 

A wave of calm. She was pretty sure she was smiling... 

 

A familiar hand cupped her cheek as she allowed herself to drift back under. 

Chapter 52: Drunk

Summary:

“Hello..?”

Aizawa's voice was rough, gravelled but it caught the figures attention. They buckled, frozen on the spot... and there was something about the way that they held themselves...

“Bakugou... Are you drunk..?”

Notes:

Happy Friday guysss - sorry this one is a tad late, I was in rehearsals today and costume fittings ran on way too late haha BUT I get to wear a waistcoat in this new production and someone giving it to me to try on, knowing my sizings and everything made me think of Bakugou and Kirishima from the movie haha

Also, my phone got stolen... there is that XD Not the worst thing to happen but I can't communicate! With aNyOnE gahhhhh

I hope you're all having amazing weeks x

PS - WARNING mentions of cancer

Something hitting the side of the sofa jolted Aizawa awake, the noise nearly causing him to fall off the chair he was sat on. 

 

His fault really, he shouldn’t have spent the majority of the night marking. The sky was black, the clock just above the television illuminated by the streetlamps outside.  

 

00:18 am

 

There was a figure just in front of him, he couldn’t quite make out who... They were stumbling . 

 

That wasn’t unusual. For someone to stumble in the middle of the night... But Aizawa had to wonder why whoever it was didn’t just put the light on? They couldn’t have seen him, surely? 

 

“Hello..?” 

 

His voice was rough, gravelled but it caught the figures attention. They buckled, frozen on the spot... and there was something about the way that they held themselves... 

 

It was if they were trying to look invisible. But they were swaying . 

 

Aizawa found himself rising to his feet, flexing his toes, cracking his back. Sleeping hunched over on the kitchen table was a habit he should probably try and quit. The figure stayed still. Like a child trying to convince their parent that they were asleep. As he moved, spiky hair came into view, skinny jeans and palms flexing...

 

“Bakugou..?”

 

The figure moved. A million and one thoughts rang through Aizawa’s head. His hand reached for the light. 

 

“Bakugou is that you..?” 

 

The light came on, dazzling and encasing the room in colour. The figure didn’t even try to hide his face. Instead, their bloodshot eyes grew wider, unable to handle their surprise.

 

Aizawa felt his gaze darken. First shock, then anger rippling along his arms, making the hairs stand up on their ends. 

 

“What the hell ?” 

 

It was Bakugou. And he was drunk . At least that’s what Aizawa could make out from a glance. It was either that or Bakugou had been hit by some sort of quirk that made him look drunk. 

 

The teenager grunted, clearing his throat with a lazy cough as Aizawa walked back towards him. 

 

The offending wave of liquor hitting his nostrils was enough to confirm his worst fears. 

 

“Are you drunk?” he asked slowly, hoping that Bakugou would at least try and give him some sort of answer that wouldn’t make his blood boil . 

 

Bakugou lost his footing as he attempted to straighten himself. Aizawa steadied him slightly with a hand on the top of his arm. 

 

The teen looked up at his teacher, his eyes coming in and out of focus but retaining the same expression. Panic. He opened his mouth, supposedly to reply, but his attempts were futile. 

 

As soon as Bakugou had opened his mouth a torrent of vomit followed. Completely missing Bakugou himself, but soaking Aizawa. As well as most of the floor. 

 

Aizawa recoiled, looking down at his sodden clothes, before glancing across at his student. His own palms flexed, attempting not to yell, feeling nausea rise in his own stomach. 

 

Fucking fantastic . 

 

—

 

“Take these.”

 

Aizawa placed the two painkillers on the table and slid them across to where Bakugou was sat. 

 

“And I want you to drink that entire glass of water before you go to sleep.” 

 

Bakugou looked up from where he had his head planted firmly on the table, covered by his forearms. 

 

Aizawa sat across from him, sighing. Deeply. 

 

He’d cleaned up most of the mess . The floor could probably do with a once over, but it was good enough until the next morning. Both his and Bakugou’s clothes were in the wash already. Bakugou sitting in his underwear and pyjama top and Aizawa reverting back to his sleeping bag. 

 

Bakugou looked like hell had just slapped him in the face. 

 

Awww. His first hangover.

 

“How are you feeling?” 

 

“Crap,” Bakugou slurred, his voice muffled by his sleeve as he struggled to sip the water. 

 

Aizawa didn’t pick him up on his language, instead, snorting softly. Trying to ignore the stench of vomit in the air around them. 

 

“I thought you told me you were staying with your parents tonight. After the family meal,” Aizawa continued, watching for the teen's reaction. Waiting for him to fess up. 

 

“I was,” Bakugou replied softly. He wasn’t lying. 

 

Aizawa sat up a little straighter, leaning forward in his chair. 

 

“She was drinking, so I asked if I could have one ,” Bakugou continued, his voice hoarse from the vomiting. 

 

“One of..?” Aizawa pressed. 

 

“Beer,” Bakugou replied. “She let me have a half-pint.” 

 

“A half pint got you this drunk?” Aizawa asked before he could think to stop himself. It was almost laughable, even if Bakugou was in the most trouble he’d ever been in his entire life. At least he was safe at UA. And at least it was only half a pint-

 

“No. I’m not a lightweight,” Bakugou drawled, cutting into Aizawa’s train of thought. “I stole her rum.” 

 

The thudding in Aizawa’s chest returned. With a vengeance. The anxiety. He’d been in this situation before, not with Bakugou but...

 

“I didn’t know how strong it fucking was...” Bakugou continued. “I poured in too much...”

 

“You poured it into the beer?” Aizawa asked. 

 

“Yeah...”

 

“How much of the half-pint was beer exactly?” Aizawa pressed. Bakugou pulled one arm from under his head, making out the amount with his thumb and forefinger. 

“So you basically drank half a pint of rum as well...” 

 

Aizawa ran his fingers through his hair, trying not to tear it out at the root. 

 

“Did your family not notice?!” 

 

His attempt to keep his voice down ended up turning his tone into a snarl. He saw Bakugou flinch slightly before regaining his composure, shrugging. 

 

“Drink more of your water,” he commanded through his teeth. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” 

 

The kid was in so much trouble Aizawa needed the whole night to think of a suitable punishment. 

 

He expected Bakugou to do as he was told. To finish the water, stalk to his room. The tightness in his chest was lessening, his anxiety calming down. Bakugou was reckless, but at least this was something that could be nipped in the bud now. And he could have a conversation with his parents, a mention in homeroom. The dangers of alcohol. He knew all abou t that . 

 

To his surprise, Bakugou hardly moved. Instead, there was a sort of whimper from where he was hidden under his arms. His hands curled around his forearms and for a moment Aizawa thought that he was going to throw up... but instead, the whimpering grew. 

 

“Bakugou..?” 

 

“I feel numb...” 

 

The small voice that emerged from the whimpering. Hardly sounded like the teen that Aizawa knew, the fight knocked out of it.

 

“Numb..?” 

 

Aizawa wished he knew what Bakugou was going on about. It wasn’t some throwaway comment about the amount of alcohol the boy had drunk. It was serious. 

 

“I don’t know why...” 

 

Bakugou thumped the table with his fist, his anger dissolving into the tabletop. Aizawa wasn’t sure whether to go to him... or would that startle Bakugou..? Stop him from talking..? Should he leave him be, let him get everything out just so he could understand somehow . 

 

“Everything’s wrong,” Bakugou continued,  Aizawa letting out a small sigh of relief that his decision had been made for him. “It wasn’t meant to be this way.”

 

“What wasn’t?” Aizawa asked softly, getting up from his chair and coming over to pull out the one next to his student. Bakugou looked up but made no move to get away. 

 

Aizawa was cautious of pressing too much. This was the alcohol talking after all. 

 

“All Might is meant to be still here and Deku should be fucking quirkless. My dad should be stronger than my mum and I should be stronger than I am. My aunt should be young. And healthy. The league of villains should be fucking evil and I shouldn’t even be talking...” 

 

Aizawa wanted to cut in. He bit his lip instead. Waited. 

 

“I had it all figured out. I knew... I... I thought I knew... But everything’s a lie. And how can I even care for the things that I did if they’re a lie ?”

 

Aizawa knew about the issue surrounding All Might, not that it was an ongoing issue - at least not to this extent but Midoryia? Quirkless? His dad..? He didn’t even know Bakugou had an aunt, although that was hardly unusual... And whatever ‘not being stronger than his mum’ meant , it could hardly be a good thing... 

 

“For a start , the league are evil,” Aizawa began, an attempt to ease himself into what wasn’t looking to be an easy conversation. 

 

“How would you fucking know?” Bakugou spat in reply, looking up properly this time. His eyes were red-rimmed, the corners of his mouth still yellow, stained with vomit and standing out against his ashen skin. 

 

His words were bitter, bitter enough to sharpen Aizawa’s breath.  

 

“You haven’t been kidnapped by them,” Bakugou continued, snarling at his homeroom teacher. His tone was offset by the tears running down his cheeks, creating droplets on the table beneath him. 

 

“Watch your tone,” Aizawa warned. Bakugou just laughed softly, his breath coming out in shudders as he wiped his nose on his sleeve. 

 

Aizawa sat back slightly in his seat. Trying to figure out what to say next. Bakugou moaned softly, tucking his head back into his sleeve. 

 

“Do you feel sick?” Aizawa asked. A small nod came from the curled up teen. 

 

He scanned around the room before getting up, reaching over for the waste paper bin across from the TV. 

 

It wasn’t long before Bakugou reached to grab it. Clutching the bin around his waist. Retching but bringing nothing up. 

 

“Drinking’s not so nice, is it?” Aizawa remarked, allowing himself to smile slightly at Bakugou’s misfortune. It reminded him of caring of Hizashi after some particularly painful nights out. 

 

“It wasn’t... ever... nice,” Bakugou heaved, spitting a long line of drool into the bin. “It was just my mum... telling me to get stronger...” 

 

Aizawa felt himself tense slightly. 

 

“Well... you know I don’t exactly agree with how your mum chooses to encourage you,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“She’s still... right though,” Bakugou coughed. Pathetically coughed. 

 

“You know I don’t believe that either,”

Aizawa stated, treading carefully around the conversation matter. 

 

“She said... she drinks to forget-” Bakugou started before finally beginning to heave for real. Aizawa attempted to rub circles onto the teenagers back but was quickly shrugged off. 

 

“And you were trying to do the same..?” Aizawa asked, trying to finish Bakugou’s sentence. 

 

Once again Bakugou shook his head, going to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. 

 

“Wait,” Aizawa motioned, getting back out of his seat. “I’ll get you a tissue.” 

 

He strode over to the kitchen counter, second-guessing himself as he stood, ripping a paper towel from the stand. 

 

“You mentioned your aunt..?”

 

“She’s got cancer,” Bakugou cut in, his voice thick. “She told us. Over dinner. We were all... We were all happy. Why the fuck would she do that?!” 

 

Aizawa sobered. Handing the tissue over trying to make sure that his hand wasn’t shaking too much. 

 

“I’m sorry...” he replied. “How old is-?”

 

“She’s thirty-seven,” Bakugou cut in, his voice cracking. 

 

Fuck. Not much older than himself...

 

“I wasn’t trying to drink to forget,” Bakugou stated, grounding himself. “But I just want to not think of it all constantly -“

 

One voice crack too many and Bakugou dissolved, angry sobs racking his frame. Causing him to shake uncontrollably as the full weight of the evening took its toll. 

 

Aizawa knew better than to go to him straight away, instead, walking around to the sofas. He quickly grabbed a blanket, reaching and easily taking the bin from Bakugou’s grip. He placed the blanket over the boy's shoulders holding on. Tight. Feeling him shudder. 

 

“People can get better you know,” Aizawa offered softly. 

 

“I know,” Bakugou replied, his throat tight. “My mum... told her to get stronger as well.”

 

Aizawa allowed himself to smile a little. 

 

“I’d imagine that went down well.”

 

“Like a fucking house on fire,” Bakugou replied, Aizawa coming to sit beside him once more. “It’s not even the aunt on her side.”

 

“Ahh...” 

 

Aizawa didn’t know what else to reply. But he could imagine. 

 

“There were arguments,” Bakugou continued. The most Aizawa had ever heard him talk at once. “My dad tried to argue back with my mum but that didn’t work. She just shut him down. I’m like that, aren’t I..? I’m like her ,”

 

The question took Aizawa by surprise but he was starting to understand…

 

“You’re not like anyone else,” he replied before snorting. Loudly. Having to cover his own mouth to stop himself from making any more loud noises. 

 

“What?!” Bakugou snapped, his tone worried. Embarrassed even. Aizawa made an effort to shake his head, motioning to his face. 

 

“I just realised how absolutely pathetic that sounded,” he admitted, watching as Bakugou’s shoulders dropped back in relief. 

 

Aizawa rubbed his face with one hand as if to try and draw the fatigue out of him. Be better . Be what this kid needed. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’m not good at this sort of thing. As a hero...”

 

He wavered mid-sentence. Debating whether to finish it or not. 

 

“As a hero, you see death all the time. You grow numb to it. Even your own family’s.” 

 

“That’s a thing?” Bakugou asked, the normal infections reappearing in his tone. 

 

“It’s a ‘thing’,” Aizawa reiterated. 

 

“I’ll bet fucking Deku doesn’t feel numb,” Bakugou replied, the name or rather the jealousy , making the air around the two cold.

 

“Sure he does,” Aizawa shrugged. “He’s numb on the battlefield at least or he just uses his emotions to work harder.” 

 

“The league are fine,” Bakugou stated, quickly changing the conversation. “They’re just a bunch of stupid misfits like us.”

 

“Really?” Aizawa asked, not bothering to hide his surprise. Bakugou had never really spoken up about his time being kidnapped, just that it was ‘ fine ’ and that ‘ he wasn’t scared ’. Aizawa was guilty of letting his worst fears take over, imagining Bakugou forced into all kinds of situations. 

 

Maybe not. 

 

“It’s like a dysfunctional family in there,” Bakugou replied. “Not that they let me do anything, not without becoming part of the league but I could imagine what it would have been like if I had.”

 

“What would it have been like?” Aizawa pressed. 

 

“I guess like being at home,” Bakugou shrugged. “But worse living environments or something.“ 

 

Aizawa nodded slowly. 

 

“I’m not going to become a villain,” Bakugou added. 

 

“I never thought you were,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“I just thought they were going to be... I don’t know... Like you see in the fucking movies or whatever.” 

 

“I’m going to say something pathetic again,” Aizawa warned. “But the line between what is evil and what isn’t evil is a fine one.” 

 

Bakugou grunted at that, sipping on the water before placing it back down on the counter. 

 

“Cancer is evil.” 

 

“Yes,” Aizawa spoke softly. “It is.”

Chapter 53: Kidnapped pt1

Summary:

Iidarei98 returns from their own personal hiatus to find the kids (Todo, Momo, Uraraka and DeKUU) have been kidnapped.

Because that's what happens when you're a class A kid in UA nowadays.

Notes:

Oof. I'm so so sorry (why do I feel as if I'm saying this every chapter lol)

Work got really busy for a moment, I was in a production down in the pit, playing the cello so it was 8 hour days with like 2 hours commuting across London hahaha. Still, an amazing experience that I was grateful paid the rent this month XD

Also, I shaved my head for charity haha so now I look like an edgy prison officer or something XD But I raised £175 for deaf union so I'm very pleased about that :)

My Hero comes back in two days thank fuck, I was starting to die from the hiatus. Hope this somewhat ties people over until then tho. I am going to be changing these updates to fortnightly, however, just until I get my priorities back on track :)

Lastly, I feel obligated to say, that obviously this is a chapter about kids being kidnapped and there will be some paragraphs that may be hard to read so just be cautious because I don't want to accidentally trigger anyone x

This chapter was prompted by Makeira_sakura !!!

“I can’t believe you’ve never had candy floss!” Midoryia cried over Uraraka’s head as the trio walked down the stranded street. Just down the hill from UA.

 

They’d been allowed to go out and get some time away from dorms over the weekend. Strict instructions to be back in an hour and to stick together .

 

Yaoyorozu was with the trio, however , she was hanging back. It had just passed her 16th birthday and her parents had given her a camera. One that she was now excitedly testing it out. 

 

“Guys! Turn around a second!” she called, causing the three to look in her direction just as the flash went off. 

 

“Ow. My eyes,” Todoroki muttered, in a way that really didn’t seem as if his eyes were hurt in the slightest. 

 

“Sorry!” Yaoyorozu cried. “I didn’t realise that the flash was on...” 

 

“It must be automatic,” Midoryia smiled in response, his mouth full of candy floss, teeth coated in pink sugar. Todoroki laughed at him as Uraraka doubled back to join Momo. 

 

“Can I have a go?” she asked softly, Yaoyorozu handing the camera over eagerly. 

 

“Yeah! Take one of me!” she replied, hooking her arms around the two boys. 

 

“Shouldn’t we do this somewhere that looks nicer?” Todoroki asked, wriggling in Yaoyorozu’s grasp. “There’s a bin in the background...” 

 

“We can always retake it!” Yaoyorozu smiled. “I have a 2GB memory card!”

 

“It probably won’t be very good anyway..!” Uraraka stuttered. “I’ve never used one of these before.”

 

As she spoke, a car pulled up on the side of the street. Slowing as it approached. Midoryia noticed it first, clocking it out of one eye. 

 

“ Midoryia, look at the camera!” Uraraka teased as the world seemed to turn around them. 

 

“Hold on a sec...”

 

But as he spoke his voice slowed. The car door opened, revealing a woman, her arm raised pointing towards them. Everyone but Uraraka was encased in some sort of force field, time slowing around them. Stopping them from moving properly. 

 

Todoroki tried to activate his quirks, but it was no use in the new time zone. Ice particles were escaping from his fingers like snowflakes, his fire licking the air around him. Even Midoryia‘s quirk looked more like water running down his arms than the electric-like energy that it usually was. 

 

Uraraka turned but was too late to try and do anything. Three more figures jumped out of the car, unrecognisable from the black masks covering their faces. 

 

She screamed but was answered by someone grabbing around her arms. Her reflexes kicked in, the combat moves she’d learnt on her internship second nature. It worked, but as soon as she had a handle on one of the attackers, another was upon her. 

 

The first figure called something out, something that Uraraka recognised. But as soon as she was working out what the words meant they seemed to slur around her. 

 

Encased in a force field, she saw a mask come towards her. Couldn’t. Turn. 

 

Fast. 

 

Enough. 

 

Then there was gas. Thick, with a blue tint to it. It tasted like liquorice. Encasing her vision, which was odd because it was nowhere near her eyes. 

 

She tried not breathing, but the time difference was too much. She couldn’t tell if she even could breathe. 

 

The last thing she saw before her vision went black was Midoryia crumbling to the floor in front of her. The green from his arms fading into nothing. 

 

—

 

Todoroki first thought that he’d woken up in the middle of a training session. Lights swirling in his vision then fading away. Replaced by black. 

 

That used to happen when he was a kid. 

 

But he wasn’t a kid anymore. And this wasn’t his dad’s house...

 

He bolted upright, his head pounding right at the forehead. Vision fading and then coming to. 

 

His hands gripped around some sort of tatami mat, the only object in the room that he could see. 

 

No windows. 

 

One door. 

 

One lampshade that sat beside him. 

 

He felt down his legs as he started to stand up. His jean pockets were empty, bag gone, jacket gone-

 

Todoroki took a breath to stop himself from screaming. He was so stupid. He should have seen it coming. If he’d been able to notice the car a second earlier than Midoryia did then he could have activated his quirk. Knocked the first attacker back and brought them some time. 

 

But no. 

 

He’d been a second too late. 

 

And now what?

 

Fuck he felt groggy. He hoped that he hadn’t been drugged, but the way that he staggered as he leant down for the lamp suggested otherwise. 

 

Lifting the lampshade up as far as the cord would allow it, he brandished it upwards, using the light source to look around. The room he was held in was more of a cupboard, the width of it only being about as wide as double himself. 

 

He tried the door. Locked of course. Pressed his head up against the wall. Listening to see if he could hear anything familiar. Midoryia maybe. Yaoyorozu. Uraraka. 

 

Nothing. 

 

His arms raised above his head before he could think. About to slam them down on the wall. As if he were a child again, locked in his room for bad behaviour. 

 

It wasn’t like he was scared, per se. His thoughts hitting him like pellets, continuous and short.  That was just adrenaline. That was something he could control. 

 

What he needed was a plan. Midoryia would have one. What he wouldn’t do to have Midoriya's mind right now. 

 

Even if it was just to be closer to him. To know he was safe. 

 

Lifting his arms up he brought them down on the door. Hard. Once. Twice. Getting faster, then slowing. A code. One that he knew only his friends would know, developed back on a rainy afternoon through boredom. A way to communicate through the dorms. 

 

Best case scenario, he’d get a reply. Worst case? Someone would come to get him. Then he could work things out from there. 

 

And this time he’d fight back. 

 

—

 

Fighting back, as Midoryia was beginning to find out, was going to be harder than they first expected. 

 

Waking up qurikless was once a nightmare. Now it was a reality. Flashbacks of previous battles hit him in a flurry. He couldn’t lose his quirk as well. Was it the league? Images of guns, of battles, of explosions, filled his mind. 

 

He pushed them back. Focused on what he knew. 

 

There was a weird taste coating the roof of his mouth, different than before. Which meant, they’d been drugged. 

 

Or ‘ he’d ’ been drugged. He didn’t know where the others were. 

 

There was a villain that he knew whose quirk was based around producing pills that numbed others quirks. He’d been another hero school reject, rejected from society... The usual story. There’d been a thing about it on the news ages ago. 

 

They said he’d gone to the league. 

 

Which meant...

 

Or was that right? He knew that there were rejects even for the league of villains. A subdivision maybe? 

 

He didn’t know. No point focusing on things he didn’t know. 

 

The room he was being held captive in was about three meters by four. Two windows on one side, but they were locked with shutters. Easy to open, with a quirk . 

 

Midoryia closed his eyes. Tried to think realistically once more. 

 

If there were windows then he was on at least the ground floor of some sort of building. Judging from the rest of the decor, a converted office maybe? That would make sense, it couldn’t have been long since they were knocked out. There was still a crack of light coming from the shut windows. 

 

The pill, the one muting his quirk, that wouldn’t last long either. It had to wear off at some point. 

 

Then he could kick through the window and jump out of the building. Didn’t matter from what height as long as there was something to break his fall on the way down. As long as his quirk came back at full capacity as well. He’d have to make sure of that first. 

 

Then he’d try and find the others. Or alert the pros for help. 

 

Although, they’d probably realise soon enough. So he’d try and rescue his friends. 

 

Yaoyorozu first, if he could. Realistically, she had the most useful quirk to help get the others. They didn’t know what they’d run into on the way. 

 

That’s if she could use her quirk back of course. 

 

If only he’d done more research. Then he’d know how long the pill would last. Then he could be more help saving his friends. 

 

Wait, no. He wouldn’t he didn’t know how long he’d been knocked out. He wasn’t thinking straight .

 

A banging interrupted his thoughts, quiet at first but getting louder. More purposeful. 

 

He recognised the rhythm. 

 

—

 

So did Yaoyorozu. 

 

It pulled her out of her slumber. Bolted her upright in such a way that she nearly hit her head on the ceiling. It was slanted towards her, something soft on her right-hand side.

 

As if she was under the stairs... 

 

It was pitch black, but the noise of the banging spurred her on. She placed her hands out to her sides, first making sure that she wasn’t bound in any way. In amidst it all, she tried to active her quirk, make something useful, a flashlight. 

 

Nothing happened. 

 

She tried again, waiting for the familiar tingling under the skin of her abdomen.

 

Fuck.

 

She was useless without her quirk. 

 

She tried to convince herself that she wasn’t. 

 

The banging continued from above her. 

 

Midoryia? She hoped. 

 

Her hands rested on a door frame, lowering to find the handle. Trying her quirk again. 

 

Still nothing. Maybe she just had no energy. That would make sense. Maybe. 

 

“Quirk gone. Reply.”

 

That was what the banging was saying. A code. One that only they knew. 

 

Quirk gone. 

 

So it was all of them. 

 

She tried the door. Locked shut. Tried to remember the code. To reply. 

 

The sound was coming from upstairs so Yaoyorozu moved backwards. Crouching onto her hind legs and resting her hands on the low ceiling. Hitting once, twice, three times. 

 

“Who. Is. It?”

 

The banging from upstairs stopped. Yaoyorozu gave it a second before repeating. 

 

“Who. Is. It?”

 

A beat later and she got her reply. 

 

“Todoroki.”

 

Yaoyorozu finally managed to breathe. 

 

He was alive. And okay. Trapped maybe, but that was fine-

 

“Midoryia.”

 

A new set of banging. 

 

“Where are you?”

 

Yaoyorozu was quick to answer. 

 

“Yaoyorozu. Cupboard.”

 

Two seconds later-

 

“Midoryia. Room. Upstairs.”

 

“Same. Small. Todoroki.”

 

“Uraraka?”

 

Silence . 

 

Yaoyorozu felt her breathing quicken.

 

She mentally retraced what has happened. Trying to grasp memories that didn’t exist. 

 

Uraraka had been the last one to get caught.

 

The door clicked beside her, making her jump. Light flooding into what she could now clearly see was a shoe cupboard. 

 

A figure blocked the light and gave her eyes a few moments rest. She guessed it was a guy, a lot taller than her and filled out across the shoulders. As they reached out to make a grab her, Yaoyorozu jumping up as best as she could. Tripping over shoes and breaking her fall on the coats behind her. 

 

“I can move on my own.”

 

The figure hesitated, but instead let out a low laugh, beckoning her with the same arm. 

 

The banging from upstairs had stopped completely. 

 

Yaoyorozu hoped that was good news. 

 

Adjusting to the new light- how long has she been out for?- she followed her captor out of the cupboard and into a hallway. They seemed to be in some sort of deserted flats, student accommodation, disused and unfurnished. There was mould flaking the wallpaper from the walls, and even though they were walking on carpet, she noticed that her captor has shoes on. Treading mud into the floor. It must be raining outside. 

 

Her own shoes had been removed. 

 

She was ushered through a doorway with some force, tripping slightly over the door frame as she entered.  

 

“Uraraka!” 

 

Her friend looked up at her, mouthing but unable to speak a word in reply. Her voice muted. 

 

She was tied to a chair, her hands gloved from behind. Maybe that meant she still had her quirk? Yaoyorozu didn’t know. 

 

“Are you okay?” she asked, nodding, trying to elicit the same response she was begging Uraraka to give in return. 

 

And she did. But she wasn’t smiling. Didn’t even try. 

 

Yaoyorozu was pushed into a chair beside her, hands grabbed and tied in the same manner. For a split second, it occurred to her to fight back, but she pushed the feeling down. 

 

There were three people in this room, she wouldn’t be able to fight them all and free Uraraka. And she didn’t know the way out. 

 

The shutters were down over the windows, however, it was apparent that it was still light outside. That was a good sign. They couldn’t have been captured for long. 

 

There were noises coming from upstairs. Shortly after, Midoryia and Todoroki were pushed through the same door. Todoroki wearing a rather fresh looking bruise under his cheekbone. 

 

He’d tried to fight back. 

 

“Todoroki! Midoryia! Are you okay?!” Yaoyorozu cried, lifting herself up on her chair as she spoke. “They’ve done something to Uraraka. She can’t talk-“

 

She saw the boy’s eyes widen as someone grabbed her head, wrapping something across her mouth. Pulling it taut. All of a sudden she couldn’t breathe, what little oxygen she was gasping, hot. She went to grab at whatever it was with her hands but she was too slow, pulled behind her back so roughly that her shoulder popped with the effort. 

 

She gasped with the pain, knowing better than to make any more sound. Tears already brimming at the corners of her mouth. 

 

Tied and gagged, trying desperately to catch the attention of the others with just a look. 

 

Midoryia’s attention was on Uraraka, staring at her as he was pulled into a chair next to her. Todoroki kept on looking down at the floor. Flexing his hands. 

 

As he was eventually pulled to a chair, Yaoyorozu could tell that he was more uncoordinated than usual. Come to think of it, she’d been the same. Coming down from the drugs maybe? She hoped so. 

 

She dreaded to think what else it could be. 

 

Herself, Uraraka, then Midoryia and Todoroki. Lined up as if they were about to be shot. 

 

Maybe they were. 

“How long until they get here?” a female voice asked, coming from just beside Todoroki‘s seat. Yaoyorozu watched as she pulled her face mask up higher. As if she didn’t want anyone to see. 

 

Didn’t want them to see. Them specifically . Must have been, she would have known the other villains. 

 

“Any second,” a gruff voice replied next to her ear. “Why? You want to make yourself look nice?” 

 

“My standards aren’t that low,” the girl retorted. 

 

She had guts. 

 

“I’m just wondering that’s all,” she continued. Unfazed. “I have a curfew.”

 

“Little schoolgirl.”

 

“If I don’t make it back in time this whole operation is blown. I’m the best intel you’ve got-“ 

 

“Brought them straight to us,” a voice spoke smoothly from the doorway. “I’ll have to thank you.”

 

Yaoyorozu saw eyes go wide as she whipped her head around. Recognising the figure straightaway. 

 

Dabi . 

 

Damn. She’d been so focused on trying to figure out the girl out that she’d not listened to what she’d actually said. 

 

“Dabi. My name’s Zaizen. I thought there’d be more of you,” the figure from beside her said, coming forward to shake Dabi’s hands. 

 

He didn’t shake back. 

 

“There was one other guy coming,” Dabi replied, his tone bored. “I get annoyed with him, shoved him off the balcony.” 

 

The guy, Zaizen , shrunk back a little, nearly backing himself into Yaoyorozu’s chair. Dabi sighed, like some sort of addict unable to get his fix. 

 

“Relax. It’s a fucking joke.”

 

His gaze softened slightly. Yaoyorozu followed it towards Todoroki. Her palms were beginning to get sweaty from the way she was holding them behind her back.

 

“Hello, Shoto.”

 

Todoroki didn’t even flinch. Just stared. Dabi cocked his head to one side, his demeanour changing to that of a lost puppy. He was holding a small backpack, that he continued to drop on the floor. Just out of Todoroki’s reach.

 

“Why stop them from talking? Where’s the fun in that?” 

 

“Do you want us to take the binds off?” another voice asked. One that Yaoyorozu couldn’t quite see, even if she twisted her head. 

 

“Just the Todorokis’. I’m not here long,” Dabi replied, picking dirt from under his nails. “You do it. Don’t want to get my hands dirty.” 

 

Vile. Awful. Evil . 

 

Yaoyorozu didn’t watch as they pulled the binds from her best friends mouth. Just thought words in her head, watched Midoryia edge his seas close to Uraraka‘s. To try and get their hands to touch. 

 

Todoroki spat as soon as he was freed, the globular of spit landing at his feet. 

 

Dabi smirked. 

 

“Nice nap?”

 

“Why do you call me by my name?” Todoroki replied, his voice slurred as he spoke. 

 

“Come on,” Dabi teased, his voice full of scorn. “Of all the questions, you ask that one?”

 

Todoroki looked annoyed. Unable to retort. 

 

“I like your name. You know that.” 

 

He came closer, kneeling down in front of him, smiling. Showing his teeth. Todoroki stared straight at him, gaze fixed. 

 

“Nice scar by the way. Remind you of mum?” 

 

Dabi narrowly managed to avoid Todoroki lurching forward, a captor holding him back as he threw his chair off-balance, throwing him down. Leaving Shoto clattering to the floor. 

 

Dabi straightened, his knees cracking as he did, looked around, yawning. 

 

Pointing lazily at Uraraka. Clicked his fingers. 

 

“Why is she not bound?”

 

“I used my quirk!” the figure behind Yaoyorozu spoke proudly, the gruffness of his voice offset by the excitement in his tone. He was stopped by Dabi’s glare.

 

“I thought Shigaraki said not to experiment on them until they were being left.” 

 

Midoryia yelled through the binds, his voice coming out muffled and agitated. Dabi raised one eyebrow, pulling the scars across his cheeks taut across his mouth. 

 

“Let him speak, I don’t have time to try and work out what all of that meant,” he commanded, blinking slowly. 

 

The girl did as she was asked, removing the binds from behind. Midoryia barely left himself a second to gasp in a breath of air before he spoke. 

 

“Where is Shigaraki then?!” Midoryia yelled. Unafraid of what might happen to him if he spoke up too much. He looked around but carried on, “And why us?!”

 

Somebody removed the bind from Yaoyorozu‘s mouth, maybe hearing the commands wrong? She didn’t know, but the stale air felt good to breathe in. 

 

“I fancied the job,” Dabi replied smoothly. “And why you? You decided to walk out on the street at night. UA isn’t very wise. Is it?”

 

“I knew this couldn’t be your doing,” Todoroki drawled, face in the stained carpet, eyes half-closed. “You don’t have the brain cells.”

 

Dabi’s expression grew colder. Yaoyorozu saw him glance down at Todoroki with venom in his eyes. Knew what was coming next. 

 

“You’re like a pet !” she blurted before he could go for him. Dabi froze, his head creeping around until he was looking straight at her. Eyes blazing. “You’re like the league’s pet running errands for its master .”

 

Dabi laughed, his voice rasping.

 

“Perhaps. Aren’t you? Two sides of the same coin?” 

 

Yaoyorozu didn’t have an answer for that. 

 

“At last we fight for the right cause!” Midoryia cried, heroic as usual. 

 

“I see why you had the girl muted,” Dabi replied, ignoring Midoryia. “Drug them up, leave them, burn them to a crisp. I’ve dropped off the shit, I’m out of here.”

 

“When are we getting paid?” Zaizen called. Dabi turned as he was heading to the door, shrugging. 

 

“Dunno. Ask the boss. I mean, he’s in charge. Isn’t that right kids?”

 

And with that, he left.

 

Todoroki laughed dryly. 

 

“Dickhead.”

 

Yaoyorozu looked up at the captor to her side as he kicked the side of her chair. 

 

“Dammit Shigaraki!” he continued through her teeth. “I signed a contract!”

 

“You should report it Gai,” the girl drawled, bending down to the side of Yaoyorozu. “That’ll get you far.”

 

“Shut the fuck up.” the kidnapper, Yaoyorozu assumed was Gai, replied. 

 

She was too busy looking in his direction to be able to stop the girl grabbing the sides of her head. She shrieked slightly, shaking her head furiously as the gag was replaced over her mouth. There was a moment that her captor slipped slightly, allowing Yaoyorozu a split second to bite down. Hard. 

 

“Fuck!” the girl hissed, hardly flinching as she pulled her hand away, bringing it down sharply across Yayorozu’s cheek. 

 

It stung. 

 

“Just drug them up with whatever Shigaraki gave us and we can go,” the excited voice behind her said.

 

“Good, I need to leave in the next half an hour anyway,” the girl replied. 

 

Yaoyorozu felt her breath quicken in her chest. Drug them. They’d been drugged already, that was how they’d gotten knocked out, that was how they’d lost their quirks. Todoroki wasn’t okay, neither was Uraraka. Regardless of what on earth these drugs would do to any of them, they couldn’t afford for someone else to be rendered useless in a fight. 

 

They needed to fight back now. 

 

She could tell that Midoryia was thinking the same, gagged again, his eyes darting around the room. Planning something... Some sort of exit route perhaps? A way of pinning the enemy? She knew should be doing the same but there were so many thoughts running around her head, the adrenaline fogging her ability to think. 

 

Just think .

 

“You’re not going to gag me?” Todoroki asked from beside her. He was breathing heavily, slumped over where he sat.

 

“You haven’t got the energy to fight back,” Zaizen stated. He was the one who’d spoken to Dabi first, who Yaoyorozu assumed was in charge of this whole thing. He’d come out of his shell now Dabi wasn’t there to put him in his place. 

 

Todoroki scoffed slightly, as the captor bent down to reach into the bag Dabi had left. 

 

“You think..?” he asked lowly, his eyes flicking ever so slightly to the left before pulling his left hand upwards. Somehow he’d freed himself from his bonds. 

 

He pulled his chair around, stumbling on his feet as he dragged it up into the air, throwing it in the direction of Gai. It happened so fast that he had no time to preempt it, the furniture crashing into his forearm. 

 

“What the-?!”

 

But Todoroki had leapt forward, slamming a right hook into the side of the girls face. The girl ducked, gasping and raising a hand. 

 

“Time warp!’ 

 

At once there was a flash of light and Todoroki was encased, moving in slow motion. 

 

“Shit.” 

 

The girl jumped backwards, pulling her face mask up as high as she could, running her hair back against her head. 

 

“Good job,” Gai retorted. 

 

Yaoyorozu couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. It sounded sarcastic. Zaizen stood up at the front of the room, pulling something open with his hands. Something medical..?

 

As he turned slightly Yaoyorozu got a glimpse of it. It flashed slightly in the dimmed lights. A needle.

 

“How long has he got?” Zaizen asked, pointing in the direction of Todoroki. The girl pulled her face mask upwards once more as she replied.

 

“Twenty seconds.” 

 

Midoryia was writhing in the seat across from Yaoyorozu. Uraraka openly crying, opening and closing her mouth, trying to pull herself out of her restraints. Yaoyorozu tried to rip her hands free as best as she could, feeling the tension in her arms as she did, trying to hook her feet around her chair legs. Her wrists burnt against the rope and she could see, out of the corner of her eye, Gai approaching her. Knowing what she was doing. 

 

Zaizen was as close to Todoroki as he could manage without getting caught in the warp himself. Todoroki didn’t seem to have a clue what was going on, stuck in altered time. Yaoyorozu tried to shout out but her voice was muffled. He wouldn’t be able to hear her anyway. 

 

A crackle of energy sounded beside her, Midoryia slamming his hands out to the sides of him, green energy shooting momentarily down his arms. 

 

His quirk .

 

The light went as quickly as it came, however. Midoryia jumped upwards but Zaizen changed path, moving around him and grabbing Uraraka by the face. Pushing the needle up into her neck. 

 

“NO!”

 

Yaoyorozu heard her voice travel through the binds, the world spinning around her as Gai hooked his leg under her chair and sent her crashing to the floor. Todoroki stormed out of the time warp, his next punch hitting the air around him before he twisted around. Freezing in place beside Midoryia. 

 

“Someone grab me another needle,” Zaizen asked calmly. Yaoyorozu watched Gai move out of view before reappearing the other side of her. “Make a move,” he explained. “And she’s next.”

 

“What have you done to her?!” Midoryia’s voice echoed around the room.

 

“We need to go,” the girl stated quietly.

 

“We’re going,” Zaizen replied, standing up and letting Uraraka slump forwards, unconscious and shaking. Yaoyorozu couldn’t see the boys expressions. She couldn’t lift her head up any further. There was a needle, a full syringe attached to it, right above her eyeball. “Come on, Gai you leave last.”

 

“Tell me what you’ve done to her!” Midoryia continued, his voice beginning to break. 

 

Yaoyorozu tried to call out, tell them to fight, not to worry about her. But she was paralyzed by her own selfish fear, trying desperately not to shake, watching a droplet of whatever was in the needle, collect at the end. Willing it not to go into her eye. Too scared to screw her eyes shut. The world around her fuzzed as she focused on it. Barely noticing as the four captors up and left, the door slamming once, then the needle dropping to the floor. 

 

She looked up watching as Midoryia ran across to Uraraka, lifting her head up and checking her pulse. Todoroki scrambling to the door. Slamming his whole body against it. 

 

“TELL ME WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO HER!” 

 

Nothing.

Notes:

Let me know what the last fortnight has been like in your lives, I've missed you all!

Dw, I won't leave it this long for pt2 haha

Chapter 54: Kidnapped pt2

Summary:

The kids are kidnapped part 2

But don't worry cause Aizawa and Bakugou are on the case :)

Notes:

Happy Birthday to NitJD
Happy Birthday to NitJD
Happy Birthday to Not in the Job Description
Happy Birthday to NitJD

 

Hahaha I joke but seriously, the first chapter of this work was posted a year ago today so thank you to every single one of you for helping to keep this up for so long lol. I've made friends through this fic and a little community - there's so many of you now and agh just thank you so much!!! Please continue to support me and I'll continue to write half decent chapters!! x

“Midoryia knows,” the girl stated as the four villains ascended the staircase out of the disused office building. They were going to take the lift but it was broken. It didn’t particularly matter, however, the girl was starting to feel the anxiety of the situation rise in her chest. Clogging up into her throat. She pulled her black hair from her jacket, letting it flow over shoulders to try and seem a little more confident. A finger running over the small scar on her forehead. 

 

“Which one was he?” Gai asked, squinting his eyes as if that would help him to remember. 

 

“Green hair,” the girl replied, trying to sigh, her voice coming out wavering instead. She would Time Warp if she could just to get out of the situation. “I told you. He’s the one your attention should have been on.”

 

“Oh yeah, he was annoying,” Gai muttered, unaware of her apprehension. “Still, what you worried about? We’re about to kill them off.”

 

“Yeah well, Midoryia was the one that Stain saved . All of them, they’re UA students-” the girl started.

 

“And?” Zaizen finished for her. “UA is the name of the school, they’re just schoolkids at the end of the day. Even Midoryi-whateverthefuck.”

 

“You know his name,” the girl snapped back, her heart thumping in her chest. "You all do!"

 

“And?” Zaizen retorted.

 

“ Someone sounds bitter!” Gai teased, earning himself a lowly glare. 

 

The girl watched on, cautious. Gai was known for pushing his luck. 

 

Zaizen instead swore loudly, turning himself away from the group.

 

“Shit, I left the duffle bag in the room,” he hissed. “Tayaki, go up and get it for me yeah?”

 

“What does it have in it?” the last of their team, Tayaki, asked. His voice was mellow and grated on the girl's eardrums. She hated how it made her feel. 

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Zaizen snapped. “Just go and fucking get it.”

 

Tayaki narrowed his eyes but turned regardless. The girl couldn’t recall the bag exactly, from the moment that Dabi had walked in the room her attention hadn’t been turned from him. She knew what would happen to those who got on the wrong side of him. Besides she was only in a villain deploy group. There was a long road to climb to get to Dabi’s position. And everyone was replaceable. 

 

In fact, the only reason she was any more valuable to any of the others was because- 

 

“Wait. Don’t bother.”

 

Zaizen interrupted her thoughts, his hand risen in the air. Fingers curling with tension. 

 

“You’re worried about the squirts getting their quirks back aren't you?” Gai grinned. Zaizen shot him a look. The girl watched on, looked at her watch. She had twenty minutes until curfew. 

“Let’s just get this over and done with,” Zaizen snapped in reply. “Set the place on fire before they can escape.”

 

“Ha, you’ve got it!” Gai laughed. “Go on then Tayaki do your thing.” 

 

“My thing?” Tayaki drawled. 

 

“Fireworks,” Gai grinned. “Let’s light this place up!”

 

“Onlookers will think it’s just an arson attack in some disused building,” Zaizen reiterated. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

“Get you back to school,” Gai coo’ed, cupping the girl's cheek in one large hand. She snapped her head out of his grasp. 

 

“Get off me. Why didn't we inject them all? That was the plan.” 

 

She pulled ahead of the group, pulling her face mask up towards her and pulling off her belt from her waist. Wrapping it around her hands. 

 

“Say hi to the traitor if you see them around campus!” Gai continued, ignoring her as sparks erupted from Tayaki’s hands. 

 

“Keep your voice down,” he threatened, Zaizen looking the girls way.

 

“You wanted to go. Abehisa,” he drawled. "The rest of us, we're protected."

 

"Like hell are you," she spat, nerves getting the better of her. 

 

She turned and ran, throwing the leather belt upwards and hoisting herself up into a nearby alleyway. Looking back as the building exploded into light.

 

Fuck. She was fucked.

 

--

 

Up on the fourteenth floor, Midoryia was desperately trying to flex his left hand, green sparks spilling out of his fingertips. They went as soon as they appeared, leaving him slamming his fist to the floor. A high pitched squeal sounded, followed by a cacophony of crackling and booms erupted downstairs. 

 

“Was that you?” Todoroki asked from the doorframe.

 

“No,” he replied quickly, listening to the noises continuing from downstairs. 

 

“What have they done?” Yaoyorozu heard herself say.

 

“I don’t know...” Midoryia replied. “It sounds like fireworks…”

 

“Fireworks? What for?” Todoroki asked, spitting his words out through his teeth. “A decoy?” 

 

“A decoy for what though?” Yaoyorozu continued quickly. “I thought the point was to try and keep us hidden?” 

 

“Most fireworks would do is set the place on fire...” Todoroki said, his sentence trailing off as he realised. 

 

“How’s the door?” Yaoyorozu asked quietly. 

 

“Locked,” Todoroki replied. “It’s locked.”

 

“They’ve trapped us in here to die!” Midoryia cried, pulling himself up and pushing his arm out in front of him. The green sparks erupting across his arm, even reaching his neck before dying out. 

 

Yaoyorozu knelt behind Uraraka. Desperately undoing the girl's binds, watching her head loll as whatever was in that syringe took its effect. She tried to get her quirk to work once. Forcing all of her energy into it. Feeling something. A tingling under the skin but not enough. Not enough to produce anything. 

 

The smell of smoke was beginning to hit her nostrils. An explosion maybe..? Something about this entire situation seemed like it could even be a bomb .

 

“Todoroki!” 

 

There was a thud, both Uraraka and Yaoyorozu’s head snapping to the doorway. 

 

Todoroki was slumped to the floor, gasping for breath. The left side of his body pink, perspiration running down his forehead.

 

“Todoroki!” Midoryia repeated. The boy looking upwards and trying to pull himself up to a sitting position, his arms shaking dramatically as he did.

 

“-Fuck…”

 

“Todoroki, what’s wrong?” Midoryia asked, the volume in his voice rising. 

 

Yaoyorozu remembered, from first aid. The way to talk to someone unconscious. She knew the way that Midoryia talked when he was saving civilians. It was the same tone that he was using now. And something about it, in this situation, made her feel sick. This wasn’t a serious mission. This couldn’t be a life and death situation. This was just the four of them going out to play with her new camera. This whole thing had been her idea. 

 

“What’s happening?” she heard herself yell back, his own tone reflecting exactly what she didn’t want this situation to be. Serious. 

 

--

 

“Bakugou, stop following me.”

 

Aizawa’s voice was firm but he didn’t stop to turn towards the teenager, instead, keeping his head forward. Following Yagi and the police officers out of the UA office buildings. 

 

Aizawa was trying not to shiver in the cold of the winter morning. After his students had failed to return the night before, the entire school had been on lockdown. He’d been on patrol all night and now there was a senior police meeting in central Tokyo. Only himself and Yagi were allowed to attend.

 

Todoroki, Yaoyorozu, Uraraka and Midroyia. Taken, nowhere to be seen. The only link they had to this crime and the league of villains was the CCTV footage taken from the street the teenagers were last seen. After that, the car had been driven out of town, through the surrounding countryside just outside Tokyo prefecture, and the cars swapped. Well, that’s what was assumed. The original vehicle had been found. Empty, but DNA samples suggesting the worse. 

 

The thought of it caused bile to rise up his throat, smothered down by a deep breath or two. Trying to push the thoughts out of his mind. 

 

“No,” the boy replied gruffly, running to catch up with his teacher. “I managed to convince the rest of the extras to stay in dorms.”

 

“I’ll make sure to thank you later,” Aizawa drawled. “Now go back.”

 

“You can’t stop me,” Bakugou retorted. 

 

“No but I can expel you,” Aizawa pointed out. 

 

“Stop arguing!” Yagi finally cried, turning slightly as the three approached a black car, the door opening as the officers approached. “You sound like children.”

 

Aizawa sighed, trying not to note how Bakugou did exactly the same. 

 

“Three of you?” the officer asked.

 

“Young Bakugou, are you joining us?” Yagi asked as Aizawa got in the back seat of the vehicle. 

 

“ Yeah ,” Bakugou replied. As if it was obvious. 

 

“He won’t be allowed-” Aizawa started-

 

“Then get in,” Yagi motioned. Aizawa was about to protest but Bakugou was already sat beside him, Yagi following. 

 

“Are all the rest of the students accounted for?” the officer continued, tapping onto his screen, attaching it onto the front of his car dashboard, a map coming up in front of him.

 

“All but the third years on internships,” Yagi replied. “They’ve been handed over to their agencies for the time being.” 

 

Aizawa didn’t like the way that Yagi was holding himself. Tense and serious. He could imagine All Might holding himself the same way, however, it just felt wrong now he was permanently confined to his skeletal form. It almost seemed like too much weight to be placed on the man's shoulders.

 

“Seatbelt,” Aizawa said softly, pointing beside Bakugou. “Or do you want me to strap you in like a child?” 

 

Bakugou did as he was told. 

 

“Nezu said he would meet us there,” Yagi briefed the two as the car pulled out of UA. “We haven’t notified any of their parents about their condition, other than the fact that their children are missing.”

 

“Is that because we have some motive?” Aizawa interrupted. “Or is it because we have no other information that we can give them?”

 

Yagi gritted his teeth. Bakugou looked straight ahead as if he didn’t want to see. 

 

“It’s nearly been a day,” Aizawa reiterated. 

 

“I know,” Yagi replied. “I’d say that we’ll find out more when we get to the meeting. Have you slept?”

 

Aizawa shook his head. “No. I’ve been out on patrol for most of the time. You?”

 

“Of course not. I wish I had, I would have been of more use,” Yagi sighed.

 

Bakugou stayed staring straight ahead as the car raced down the solum side streets of Tokyo. Using his forefinger nail to create a ridge in the leather seat next to him. Taking his frustration out on the chair was better than nothing but he thought he would be able to relax a little more now he was in the car. Actively doing something was better than being stuck in dorms but he didn’t feel much better. He hated that. 

 

“Have there been any more villain attacks?” Yagi continued beside him.

 

“A few,” Aizawa replied. “Just like we suspected really. They know that a kidnapping of UA students would take the pros by surprise however it seems as if they’re biding their time. We haven’t taken much of a hit yet.”

 

“I almost wonder if it would have been better for them to attack all at once,” Yagi mused . “I understand them playing the waiting game... but as far as tactics go-”

 

“It wasn’t a tactic,” Bakugou interrupted, turning towards his mentor. Looking out of the window again as the two men continued talking. “It was a warning.”

 

“Doesn't make much of a difference now,” Aizawa added. Bakugou twisted around in his seat, his eyes blazing. Digging his nail back into the seat.

 

“I want to come into the meeting with you,” Bakugou spoke after a moment.

 

“You won’t be allowed,” Aizawa replied quickly.

 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Yagi added. 

 

The two men caught eyes across the seats. 

 

“I’m not losing another student today,” Aizawa snapped. 

 

“I won’t get taken,” Bakugou replied, rolling his eyes slightly. 

 

“And you know that because?” Aizawa asked through gritted teeth, his hair rising slightly as he struggled to keep a lid on his quirk. 

 

The driver pulled into the parking lot of Tokyo police station, slowing down to find a parking space. 

 

“It’s not going to happen twice,” Bakugou replied, his bottom lip sticking out as his hand tightened into a fist. “And I don’t give a shit if I’m not in the meeting anyway. I’ll just wait outside.”

 

Aizawa groaned, hitting his head against the back of the headrest. Realistically it made sense for Bakugou to join the mission. He was easily one of the most talented of the UA students, despite being a first-year. He knew the mission criteria well and Aizawa had worked with his students on missions before. This wasn’t going to be so different…

 

The car stopped, the doors unlocking on command. The officer driving the car, turned to brief the three, however, as he did, something flashed up on his alert panel to the side of the steering wheel. He clicked on the notification, Bakugou leaning forwards to see as Aizawa hooked himself out of his seat. 

 

“Fuck.”

 

Aizawa turned back, trying to catch what was going on the screen. The officer had turned away from the car, speaking into a mouthpiece. 

 

“What’s going on?” Yagi asked, poking his head back in as Bakugou pointed to the screen. 

 

“There’s a building on fire,” Bakugou replied, peering closer to the screen. “Not far from here, It’s got to be connected right?”

 

“Building’s disused… It hasn’t been set on fire normally, that’s a quirk,” Yagi commented. “I recognise it.”

 

“You do?” Aizawa asked. 

 

“Only because Young Midoriya has mentioned it before…” Yagi added. 

 

“Yeah. Fuck. Some dude. Name sounds like a Japanese snack,” Bakugou said, running his hands through his hair. 

 

“What?” Yagi asked. 

 

“Doesn't matter,” Aizaw interrupted. “If it’s a lead, I’m heading there.”

 

“And if it isn’t?” Yagi asked. 

 

“I’ll go,” Bakugou stated. “It’s connected somehow. I just can’t remember the bastards name. Fucking Deku goes on anbout a shit ton of random villains. I only remember this one because of the damn quirk being similar to mine.”

 

“I’m coming with you,” Aizawa said. “No arguing.”

 

“I’m not,” Bakugou replied. “Let’s go.”

 

Aizawa watched as the boy got out of the car, a sense of determination about him. He placed a shoulder on Yagi’s own, nearly the same height as the man. 

 

“I’ll remember the name,” he promised. “I’ll send it to you.” 

 

Yagi nodded. 

 

“Stay in touch, I’ll let you know if you’ve taken a wrong lead.”

 

“Let’s go,” Aizawa called, noting just how grown up his student looked. 

 

“It’s not a wrong lead,” Bakugou replied confidently.

 

Aizawa waited until the boy had turned before running back into the direction of Tokyo city centre. A second past before Bakugou ran past him, looking over his shoulder. Calling back to his teacher. 

 

“I know where we’re headed. Follow me!”

 

Aizawa had no choice but to. Praying that he wasn’t sending another student right into the danger zone.

 

—

 

“He’s burning up!” Midoryia announced to the group, one hand on Todoroki’s forehead. “Something about removing his quirk I think? His temperature is all over the place.”

 

“There’s nothing we can do,” Yaoyorozu called back. “I can see smoke, do you think there’s a fire?” 

 

“I don’t know!” Midoryia replied frantically. “I’ll look out of the window.”

 

The boy got up, tripping over his feet as he ran to the window. He closed his eyes and desperately tried to activate his quirk. His hand encased itself in green light for a split second as Midoryia concentrated it at the blinds. They cracked and split open the wood warping and falling to the boy's feet. Light flooded into the room. 

 

“Oh…”

 

“What is it?” Yaoyorozu cried, not taking her eyes off of Uraraka, moving her fully unconscious form into the recovery position. 

 

“We’re high up,” he replied. “And there’s smoke coming up from below. The building’s definitely on fire.”

 

“You sound calm?” Yaoyorozu asked, hoping that Midoryia was about to provide some sort of explanation. He turned, a stiff smile on his face. 

 

“No matter what, being high is a good thing,” he reasoned. “There’s a building on fire which means being high gives us time. Time before the carbon monoxide hits us. Also, because the buildings in flames, the pro’s will come and put the flames out. Yeah, they don’t know that anyone’s in here but that’s okay. We can alert them.”

 

Yaoyorozu took a breath, looking down at Uraraka and placing two fingers on the side of her friend's neck.

 

“My quirks coming back,” Midoryia continued, flexing his hand. “A little anyway, is yours?”

 

Yaoyorozu tensed her side, trying to feel for her quirk. There was something blocking it, stopping the tingling from taking on and forming anything more. 

 

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I can feel that it’s getting stronger.”

 

Midoryia nodded although Yaoyorozu could tell that his mind was whirring, trying to come up with a new plan. She was failing her friends. 

 

“I’m going to check on Todoroki,” he replied. 

 

“Uraraka’s heart rate is falling,” Yaoyorozu replied, her own heart rate rising as if to compensate. Trying to hide her barely suppressed panic

 

“Todoroki isn’t cooling down either,” Midoryia said, biting his lower lip as he did. “I’m going to get him away from the door. It’s the only one, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Yaoyorozu replied, scanning around the room quickly. 

 

“Todoroki, is the door hot at all?” Midoryia asked.

 

“A little..? Don’t worry, I’ll move away,” Todoroki panted, trying to lift himself with one arm. 

 

“Wait, can I take your jumper off?” Midoryia replied, helping the boy up against the opposite wall. 

 

“What..?” Todoroki replied groggily. “It’s a turtleneck…”

 

“Something to block the bottom of the doorframe,” Yaoyorozu said, catching on. 

 

“Yeah, the door’s warm and we can’t open it anyway,” Midoryia replied methodically. “Chances are the fire is climbing up this side of the building so we need to keep low.”

 

“Can’t you make something?” Todoroki asked Yaoyorozu, his voice coming out as more of a near whisper. 

 

Yaoyorozu felt her heart drop. She opened her mouth to answer but found her eyes filling up with tears instead. 

 

“Quirks are gone, remember,” Midoryia replied for her. “Also your top is better, it’s wet .”

 

“What?” Todoroki replied, indignantly. The most conscious he’d sounded for a while.

 

“You’re sweaty,” Midoryia stated, grinning a little and looking up at Yaoyorozu. “We don’t mind seeing you topless do we?” 

 

He was starting to look a little hazy through the building smoke.

 

Yaoyorozu shook her head, repositioning her fingers on Uraraka’s neck. She’d lost her pulse. Fuck. 

 

“Try to lie down there. Keep low,” she heard Midoryia motion to Todoroki as she pressed deeper into Uraraka’s neck. Nothing… Fear rose again, and caused her to splutter, tasting the bitter of what she assumed was gunpowder hitting the back of her throat.

 

“Midoryia! I don’t think she’s- Wait..!”

 

There, faint but almost regular. A pulse. Yaoyorozu coughed harshly, keeping her fingers in place, watching her best friends chest rise and fall with some difficulty. 

 

“Midoryia, we need something to cover her mouth. She can’t breath.”

 

“I’m on it!” Midoryia cried back, his voice strained. From what Yaoyorozu could make out, he was beside the door, shoving Todoroki’s top under the frame. Trying to reduce the amount of smoke that was making its way into the room. “I’m going to smash that window first. Get some air into here. It might alert the pro’s as well.”

 

There was the sound of running before a smash of glass, the smoke seemed to clear around them for a second. Midoryia’s figure appeared for a moment, the boy placing a chair down beside him, lifting his t-shirt up above his head, his arms growing green once more. The sound of fabric ripping. 

 

“You can use this,” Midoryia spoke softly, coming beside Yaoyorozu, a section of his ripped shirt in one hand. She nodded, taking it gently and cupping it around Uraraka’s mouth. 

 

“I don’t know what they did to her,” she admitted quietly. 

 

“I think it’s trying to slow her heartbeat?” Midoryia replied. “I don’t know. Just keep on trying to use your quirk. You too Todoroki!”

 

“Midoryia, we need to find another way out,” Todoroki replied, struggling to his feet. He lifted his left hand up, frost covering his fingertips and just about catching the light of the sun coming through the window. “The building won’t be stable for long and we can’t rely on the pro-”

 

As if by some awful fate, there was a shudder from beneath them, and caused the four to stumble in their place. Yaoyorozu caught Uraraka in her arms as the room shifted watching in horror as the girl began to quiver in her grasp. 

 

“No, no, no, not now,” she whispered, looking up and coughing. She grabbed onto her best friends shoulders, trying to stop the inevitable. She looked desperately to make out where Todoroki and Midoryia were. 

 

“I’m going to try and smash the wall through,” Midoryia cried. 

 

“You’re what?!” Yaoyorozu repeated. The smoke was black. Thick and rising into the air making Yaoyorozu feel dizzy with every ingoing breath that she could manage to take.

 

“Smash through the wall!” Midoryia repeated. “If I can get my quirk to active for a moment then I can, It would give us more air-!” 

 

Midoryia’s shouts were stopped by his own harsh coughing. Yaoyorozu could barely see Uraraka’s face now, holding her body over her chest, willing her to take in as much clean air as possible. She could do mouth-to-mouth. She would if she could. 

 

“But what if your quirk doesn't work?” she yelled back to her friend. The idea of clean air right now was too overwhelming to even think about. Thinking realistically, if Midoryia got it wrong then she would be the only one left to save them. She couldn’t do that.  

 

She couldn’t do that.

 

“It will!” Midoryia cried, his voice coming through gritted teeth. Determination. Determination that made Yaoyorozu scared. 

 

“Midoryia WAIT-!”

 

“Don’t smash through the wall,” a voice drawled from the window. 

 

“Aizawa!” Yaoyorozu called, relief flooding her in waves. Her homeroom teacher, a pro. Everything was going to be okay. It was going to be fine! “Uraraka’s unconscious!” she continued as the glass was shattered once more, allowing for the pro to come into the room from the outside. “She was injected with something!”

 

“Todoroki as well!” Midoriyia called. “We had our quirks taken from us.”

 

“Hold on!” Aizawa called back. “Bakugou!” 

 

“ Pizza Delivery ,” another, recognisable voice called into the smoke. “Why is Icy-hot topless?”

 

“Bakugou?” Yaoyorozu called, putting her hands out, another pair of hands reaching across to grab hers. 

 

“Yaoyorozu?” the voice followed. Aizawa. “Hey, calm down.”

 

She hadn’t realised how much she’d been shaking. 

 

“I don’t know if she’s breathing,” Yaoyorozu spluttered, coughing into her shoulder and motioning down to Uraraka. “I lost her pulse.”

 

“It’s okay,” Aizawa replied, letting go of her hands and placing his fingers across her neck. Shaking Uraraka with his spare hand. “Uraraka? Wake up. Uraraka?” 

 

Yaoyorozu couldn’t help but sob slightly at the silence that followed it. 

 

“Get to the window,” Aizawa instructed. “Can you see?” 

 

Yaoyorozu nodded, unable to talk and let Aizawa guide Uraraka under his arms, hoisting her frame into his chest. 

 

“Support heroes…” she managed to make out as she reached the broken glass. Bakugou, Todoroki and Midoryia were already there. The wind coming from outside not enough to blow Todoroki’s hair in the usual fashion. Instead, it was plastered to his forehead with sweat, his eyes glazed over but open. Relying a little too heavily on Bakugou who was holding him up.

 

Outside, AirJet hovered in the air, a few heroes floating beside him that Yaoyorozu didn’t know. She didn’t care. She just needed to know that they were going to make it out in time for both Uraraka and Todoroki to get medical attention. She didn't know what she would do without them.

 

“The rest of the pro’s are on their way!” he called towards them. “You gave my new recruits some valuable field training!” 

 

“I only called you because you gave me your number after the sports festival,” Bakugou replied back, grunting slightly with Todoroki’s weight resting on one side of him. Smoke billowed out of the open window, a stark contrast for the setting sun just west of them. The light hitting the broken shards of glass almost prettily. 

 

“Shame you didn’t choose me for your internship,” the support hero winked. “Right who’s being lifted to safety first?” 

 

“You did this?” Yaoyorozu asked, turning to Bakugou as Aizawa came up behind them. 

 

“Kind of,” Bakugou hissed, hauling a disgruntled Todoroki onto a fellow support trainee. “I recognised the villain, firework dude, Ta-"

 

"Tayaki!" Midoryia cried from a few meters away. "Bakugou, you do listen!"

 

"Whatever," Bakugou retorted. "Thank me later. You guys are fucking dead.”

 

“Uraraka next,” Aizawa said, coming up beside them, his tone dark. “Midoryia! Where are you?”

 

“Coming!” Midoryia’s voice rang out into the smoke. He appeared clutching something in his hand allowing Yaoyorozu a moment for her heart rate to settle once more. “I thought it would be useful.”

 

A syringe. This one was full. Yaoyorozu wondered who would have been next to be injected. 

 

“Shove it in my utility belt,” Aizawa commanded, passing Uraraka onto AirJet. “She needs medical attention immediately. Something in whatever the villains have given her is slowing her heartbeat. An overdose of beta-blockers?”

 

“I’m on it,” AirJet nodded, taking Uraraka carefully and strapping her to him carefully. 

 

“Let’s get out of here,” Aizawa called. “We don’t have much time.”

 

Yaoyorozu nodded, one of AirJets support interns helping her out of the broken window. She could already hear helicopters approaching the area, the fresh air hitting her lungs like euphoria. Bakugou was still trying to pull Todoroki off of his arm but Yaoyorozu could see that his shoulders were pulled back. His focus concentrated. There was no anger in him. 

 

There was no ulterior motive. No ‘trying to be the best hero’. No trying to ‘look good’. He’d actually just meant to save them. 

 

--

 

“Aizawa isn’t going to let any of us out of UA dorms again, is he?” Uraraka joked as the two walked across ground Beta. 

 

It had been two weeks since the four of them had been kidnapped. Uraraka had made a full recovery but only thanks to Recovery Girl. Otherwise, it was more likely to have turned out differently. That was the main argument for letting the four continue to train at UA. The only positive of the situation. That and the four students successfully getting their quirks back. 

 

Otherwise, the school was the ridicule of the press. 

 

It was a blessing UA didn't have a parent committee. 

 

Midoryia turned to her grinning sheepishly. 

 

“Probably not,” he shrugged. “But I don’t think that my mum wants me going out there either.” 

 

Uraraka laughed but Midoryia’s attention was turned away from her, looking over campus at a group of students walking through the UA gates. 

 

“The third years have finished their summer term internships,” Uraraka commented, following his eyeline. “Some of them got into really prestigious agencies.”

 

“Yeah...” Midoryia mused. 

 

“There’s one agency that’s Asui really wants to join,” Uraraka continued. “She’s trying to befriend one of the third years! That one... there!” 

 

Uraraka watched her best friend look at where she was pointing. A girl, breaking apart from the group, her hair in a dark ponytail. A small scar across her forehead.

 

“I’ve worked with her before,” Midoryia said, his voice thoughtful. 

 

“Really?!” Uraraka cried in reply, trying not to take notice of her best friends odd demeanour. “It would be cool if you could put them in touch or something! Asui I mean...”

 

Midoryia nodded but said nothing. Staring at the girl. Uraraka felt a familiar pang of jealousy start in her chest but pushed it down forcefully. Midoryia was allowed to look at other girls, she needed to stop being so stupid. 

 

“What’s her name..?” she asked, forcing a smile. 

 

“Abehisa,” Midoryia replied, his tone surprisingly cold. Uraraka nodded, taken aback slightly. Eventually resorting to watching the third year along with her best friend. 

 

At one point the third year turned, catching Midoryia’s eye and waving. 

 

“Aren’t you going to wave back?” Uraraka asked quietly, nudging her best friend in the arm. 

 

Midoryia raised an arm but didn’t wave back. His eyes narrowed in a way that was putting Uraraka on edge slightly. 

 

“Hey... are you okay?” she asked softly. It took a second but Midoryia turned back to her, a familiar smile plastered across his face. 

 

“Yeah,” he replied cheerfully. “Come on, let’s train.”

Notes:

Ehhh Abehisa pops up in chapter 19 so there's a bit of backstory there :) She's not going to come up a lot but it's a little running storyline I want in the background so that whenever I do end this story I can wrap it all up nicely haha

Chapter 55: Define what you mean by 'slept with'

Summary:

“Present Mic and I are friends,” Aizawa confirmed.

“I know that!” Kirishima stuttered.

“We’re colleagues-”

“I wasn’t trying to insinuate anything! I was just asking because I was kind of wondering if it would be any different if you were in the same bed-”

“Wh- Who have you slept with?!”

“No one! Wait... Define what you mean by ‘slept with’…”

Notes:

Evening guys, I hope you're all well :)))) This chapter was one of Sunniebear's list of prompts aha but I thought we needed some comedy lol

I hope you all have good weekends!

Aizawa was used to people knocking on his door. And by ‘used to’ he really meant ‘sick of’. He was tempted to put up a postbox or maybe have a ‘will answer in two to three working days’ notice above his door. 

 

Realistically, he knew that wouldn’t work. 

 

The previous day he’d opened the door to Koda who’d accidentally sliced his finger with a knife after Bakugou made him jump during dinner. A few days before that Kaminari had accidentally sucked up Yaoyorozu’s hair with the vacuum cleaner whilst she was looking for an earring on the floor. 

 

Somehow with twenty teenagers in the same building as him, things like this were a common occurrence. 

 

Aizawa sighed a little deeper with every knock. 

 

He couldn’t quite understand the parental bond he had for the class of 1A, but he often resented it. Personal space wasn’t a thing , personal time wasn't a thing . He just hoped that his own personal IQ hadn’t lowered under their influence. It had certainly had that effect on Hizashi. Then again, he’d challenged Yaoyorozu to a game of conkers last week... And lost. 

 

Tuesday evening, 9:46 pm, and there was a rapping at the door. Aizawa pushed himself away from the desk, listening out for various shouting. An argument perhaps, or someone getting mauled to death . 

 

Nothing. Maybe this would be a reasonable request. 

 

He opened the door to Kirishima, the boy standing in front of him with an apologetic smile. Clutching something in both hands. 

 

Aizawa stared at the boy for a second too long, the kid giving nothing but a toothy grin in return.

 

“What?” Aizawa asked, breaking the silence. 

 

“Do you have any stamps?” Kirishima replied quickly.

 

“Stamps..?” Aizawa sighed. “I think I have some. Hold on.”

 

He turned, leaving the door open for his student, and padded back to his desk. Yawning as he did. Patrol was in forty-five minutes. If he did this fast then he could probably fit in a power nap. Then again... He could just chug coffee and try and finish the rest of the marking littered across his desk. That was probably the most practical thing to do. 

 

“Woah, it’s dark in here…” 

 

Aizawa turned back to see Kirishima inviting himself in. The boy tucking his letter, or whatever it was, into the waistband of his shorts. Aizawa would have asked him to ‘get out of his room’ but that sounded pathetically childish. Besides, there were no stamps in his desk drawer. 

 

He turned to look at his bedside table instead. Maybe it was a tad dark. 

 

“Switch the light on then,” he drawled, watching Kirishima as he turned, flicking on the light switch and turning to get a better look at his teacher's room. 

 

“You have your own sofa!” he cried, a beaming smile drawn across his face. 

 

“It’s usually Hizashi’s,” Aizawa replied, grinning as he pushed the various objects around in his bedside drawer. Broken pens, lists of meetings taken years ago… Even some condoms. Jesus, they were probably out of date by now…

 

“What?” Kirishima asked, the boy walking around the room and lifting up one blind to see the view. “Woah, you can see Tokyo Tower from here!”

 

“Present Mic,” Aizawa explained, his hand landing on some stamps, picking them up in one hand. “He usually sleeps there.”

 

“What, on your sofa ? I’ve never noticed him here,” Kirishima replied. “How often does he come round?”

 

“More often than I would like,” Aizawa snorted, turning to make sure his student was fully engaged on looking around his room before turning. Inspecting the condom packet with his other hand. 

 

Definitely out of date. A homage to his sex life.  

 

“Is it like a sleepover?” Kirishima continued. 

 

“A sleepover? I’m not a teenager,” Aizawa replied. 

 

“ No, I mean as in like …” Kirishima trailed off, Aizawa to look up slightly from what he was doing. “Have you found any stamps Sensei?” 

 

There was a second of silence before Aizawa felt a presence, right behind him. He bolted upwards, Kirishima appearing behind him. Shutting the drawer quickly, trapping his fingers, blowing air into his cheeks so as not to swear. 

 

“Fu- Yes . Don’t creep up on me like that!” he snapped, rubbing one hand across his forehead and turning to hand over the packet of stamps. 

 

“Sorry Sensei,” Kirishima replied, his face turning red.

 

He’d seen. He’d obviously seen. Aizawa wanted the world to swallow him up. 

 

“Do you want money for these?” the teenager continued quickly. 

 

“No, no, don’t worry about it, there’s only one left anyway,” Aizawa stammered, shoving the stamps into his students' hands. “Why did you have to ask me tonight anyway?” he continued. “The post isn’t collected until tomorrow first break.”

 

“I don’t trust myself to remember to post it tomorrow,” Kirishima shrugged slightly. 

 

Fair enough. 

 

“Thank you Sensei,” he finished with a toothy grin, turning back to the door. 

 

“Kirishima, wait,” Aizawa called, wondering whether it was worth asking his student exactly what he’d seen. The boy turned, smiling slightly and flicking his drooping hair out of his face. The hair gel was beginning to wear off for the day. “You had a question,” Aizawa continued, deciding against asking what the boy had seen. “You didn’t finish it.”

 

“Oh…” 

 

Kirishima seemed genuinely stumped at that, the corner of his mouth twisting sideways. For a few seconds, he didn’t speak, his mouth opening and closing as if it was animatronic. 

 

“I just meant, like, you guys sleep in separate beds right? Or, well Present Mic on the sofa-”

 

“Kirishima.”

 

The boy stopped speaking, his mouth perfected rounded in an ‘o’ shape. Aizawa felt himself tense up, his eyes narrowing at the teen. He did seriously mean…

 

“What are you trying to say?” he asked carefully. Kirishima paled slightly, his hands slowly ripping the stamp packet as he spoke. 

 

“Nothing! I just wanted to know-”

 

“Present Mic and I are friends,” Aizawa confirmed, the phrase ‘friends’ sounding odd coming out of his mouth. 

 

“I know that!” Kirishima stuttered. 

 

“We’re colleagues-”

 

“I wasn’t trying to insinuate anything!” Kirishima continued, tripping over his words, his eyeline firmly planted to the floor. “I was just asking because I was kind of wondering if it would be any different if you were in the same bed-”

 

“ Wh- Who have you slept with?!” Aizawa yelped, his voice travelling up the octaves. 

 

“No one!” Kirishima screeched back, looking up so fast Aizawa wondered if he was trying to bring on whiplash. “Wait. Define what you mean by ‘ slept with ’…”

 

There was a thud from above, both of their eyes turning to the door. W hich was still open . Aizawa gave Kirishima a nod and the boy closed it quickly, Aizawa collapsing into his bed. Feeling himself sink into the fabric and wondering why he’d decided to open the door in the first place. 

 

“Please... “ he started, the possibilities running through his mind. Cold swea t starting to appear on his brow. He had half an hour before patrol. Fuck the marking as well. He’d have to do that when he got back. “ Enlighten me.”

 

Kirishima looked about as awkward as Aizawa felt. Shuffling from foot to foot, his mouth doing the opening and closing thing all over again. 

 

God if he had… And with someone in the school? Not that it broke any laws of consent. Japan had the lowest consent law in the world and everyone at the school was over the age of thirteen . But there were other things to consider, school rules, rules of being a hero. The complications in damn class. 

 

“I-” 

 

Kirishima interrupted, breathing in deeply and looking upwards to the ceiling. He seemed nervous? Aizawa hoped it was because of teenage nerves rather than the boy doing something wrong .

 

“Spit it out,” Aizawa growled. 

 

“MeandBakugouhadanightwatchingNetflixandweendedupsleepinginthesamebed!” Kirishima blurted, stopping at the end to catch a breath and cover his face with his hands. 

 

Aizawa raised one eyebrow. 

 

“I didn’t get a single word of that,” he lied. 

 

He’d managed to grasp a few words, but they mainly revolved around Bakugou and there was no way that-

 

“Me and Bakugou were watching a show one night, on his laptop. In his room,” Kirishima repeated, shoving the stamps into his pocket and outlining the story with his hands. “And then I fell asleep and I woke up and I was still there…”

 

“Still where?” Aizawa asked. 

 

“In his bed!” Kirishima replied his voice climbing the pitches once more. Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose, in confusion more than anything else. 

 

“Right… Do you like him?” he asked, looking up at the student. “I mean… In that way.”

 

God, this conversation was all of the reasons why he didn’t want to teach teenagers. 

 

“No!” Kirishima replied. 

 

The kid was pacing. 

“Well I don’t think so,” he continued to ramble. “I get crushes on girls, not guys-”

 

“I really don’t need to know-”

 

“I’ve never liked a guy like that before,” he continued, apparently not hearing Aizawa at all. 

 

“But Bakugou..?” he prompted, one eyebrow still raised.

 

“He’s just a good friend,” Kirishima finished. 

 

He sounded like he was convincing himself more than Aizawa. Not that the man couldn’t understand where the teen was coming from. It wasn’t like his high school life had been completely… without experiment.

 

“It doesn’t matter either way,” Aizawa reassured him. Kirishima shoved his hands over his face instead. Groaning. 

 

“I know that,” he spoke, his voice muffled through his fingers. “I’m not gay. I don’t think.”

 

“Right.”

 

Okay, now Aizawa was stumped for a reply. He ran his hand through his hair, glancing across to his bedside table. He should probably kick the kid out in a moment to get ready for patrol. 

 

“I meant more like… What if Bakugou is gay.” Kirishima whispered.

 

Aizawa’s eye line snapped upwards once more. His mouth twisting, as if he was trying to find the right words. 

 

“Wha..?” 

 

“What if Bakugou has a crush on me?” Kirishima reiterated, his mouth twisted in a tight line. “He just let me sleep, in his bed!”

 

“I think you might be thinking too much into this,” Aizawa breathed. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit. 

 

“He even tucked the covers over,” Kirishima continued, acting out the gesture as if it needed the empathises. 

 

Okay, that was unlike Bakugou.

 

“This is not something you should be discussing with me,” Aizawa replied, standing up and walking across to his student, a hand on his students’ shoulder. 

 

“I know,” Kirishima groaned. “I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s fine,” Aizawa shrugged. “Surely you can just ask one of your friends?” 

 

“What and wait for it to get back around to Bakugou in person? He’d kill me,” Kirishima retorted. 

 

Aizawa sighed. The kid was clearly overreacting. It was the same as being in dorms on a school trip? Or sleeping on the floor at a sleepover? Right? Or was that something that just he did. 

 

He hadn’t a clue how it all worked anymore, socially, that was. It had been years since he gave a shit.

 

“Have you ever had close friends before,” Aizawa asked, looking down for Kirishima’s reaction. 

 

The boy looked up, his face twisting slightly. 

 

“Yeah, course.”

 

“Close, as in you and Bakugou close?” Aizawa reiterated. 

 

Kirishima opened his mouth but stopped himself, taking a moment to think. 

 

“No… he’s like, my first best friend…” he replied, Aizawa nodding. A small smile creeping onto the corner of his lip. 

 

“From experience? It’s different with a best friend and a close friend,” Aizawa attempted to explain. Kirishima’s full attention on him. “Not that I know much about it but I see you both. You’re always wrapping an arm around him, grabbing his arm… stuff like that.”

 

“I didn’t know you noticed those sort of things,” Kirishima jibed. 

 

Aizawa scowled. 

 

“I don’t. You make a deal out of it.”

 

Kirishima nodded but he was still grinning. 

 

“I’m just trying to help,” he continued, averting eye contact with the teen by turning to assemble his utility belt. “If you do all of that… physical stuff -“

 

If the ground would swallow him up a tad quicker that would be useful.

 

“-then he’s more likely to reciprocate it.”

 

“But Bakugou never does anything like that,” Kirishima pointed out. 

 

“You were asleep, so you wouldn’t know,” Aizawa replied. 

 

At this point, he could feel the heat radiating from his face. He looked up slightly from his packing, watching his student as he took in the information for a moment. A relieved smile widening across his face

 

“I think I’m thinking too much into it,” he grinned, looking up at Aizawa. 

 

“I think I am as well,” Aizawa sighed. He lifted a hand, shooing his student off. “Go on, get out of my sight, I have patrol.” 

 

Kirishima nodded, bowing a little as he grabbed the letter from his shorts and turned towards the door. He stopped just before the doorway, hand on the doorknob.

 

“Sensei?” 

 

“Yes?”

 

Aizawa looked back up. The kid was grinning at him, a sort of bashful smile. Aizawa had definitely said too much. 

 

“Thank you, you kinda helped a lot…”

 

“Whatever,” he replied softly. “I’ll see you in homeroom.”

 

Kirishima nodded, shutting the door behind him as he left. Aizawa fought the urge to completely cave in on himself in embarrassment. Thanking the Gods the conversation was with Kirishima out of everyone. The kid probably wouldn’t recount any of it to the rest of 1A. 

 

Probably… 

 

 

Ach, he was fucked. 

 

Chapter 56: The Roof

Summary:

The roof. The one place Todoroki can breathe.

CHAPTER WARNINGS
Referenced suicide and anxiety.
Please DO NOT read if you even have the inkling that you shouldn’t. A chapter of a fic is not worth compromising your mental health for.

Notes:

CHAPTER WARNINGS
Referenced suicide and anxiety.
Please DO NOT read if you even have the inkling that you shouldn’t. A chapter of a fic is not worth compromising your mental health for.

PLEASE READ
Hey there. So if you haven’t read the summary of this fic then I’d suggest it. I’m still on hiatus but I’m doing a lot better. I had my trip to Japan booked before I could get medical help but coming out here has done a lot of good When I come home I’m going to the doctors and then eventually when I feel more like myself this fic will return. Thank you for being patient with me! And sorry for all the comments I never replied to. I read every one and they kept me going through some crap times.

This chapter HAS NOT been beta’ed. I just wanted to write something to let you know I am alive.

Todoroki breathed deeply as he reached the top of the staircase. He waved his hand in midair and after a second or two there was a fizzle of energy. A bulb coming to life. Now that the staircase was illuminated in yellow, he could make out the door handle. Grabbing it with one hand, his other bend and leaning against the frame, he pushes it open. It makes a grunt as if resisting his command. Scraping against the concert floor.

 

Natural light floods into the staircase. A rush of air shifting Todoroki’s hair a few inches to the right.

 

The roof.

 

He breathes again. This time not from the exertion of climbing four staircases but from relief. The fresh air is cold. It makes him feel something. He smiles, stepping out and letting the door fall back to close. Stopping it slightly before it can slam. Never taking his eyes off the view.

 

Outstretched before him is the ground of UA. Beyond the wall that surrounds it, trees. And then just close enough so that the eye can see it, Tokyo.

 

It’s not even past five am yet so Todoroki can only make out the silhouettes of the buildings. Shadowed by the rising sun. It’s breathtaking, yet Todoroki still feels as if he’s able to breathe properly for the first time in a long while.

 

He steps out into the sunlight properly, stretching his arms out and yawning. He’s dressed in gym clothes, he fully intends on working out. He just felt something, an urge maybe. And now he’s here.

 

He knows he can spend as long as he wants on the roof without being caught so he slows as he walks across to the edge. Adrenaline starts rushing to his chest. He breathes again. Deeper this time. Letting the air out through his teeth. Shaking his arms by his sides. Kicking off his shoes.

 

He crouches at the edge. Hands gripping the concrete ledge as he looks down. He’s not far up, the ground still looks deceptively close. The only thing that gives it away is the mail box by the front entrance. From this angle it’s about the size of the top of his pinky finger.

 

The wind whistles past him, his hands cold. He sits, hooking one leg after the other over the ledge. Sliding them down the side of the building. The heels of his feet quickly grow numb and he smiles. Pushing himself upwards so that he’s sitting on the ledge.

 

He doesn’t let himself look down this time. Just stares straight ahead. Watching the trees move from side to side.

 

He should be grateful really. Grateful to be born in this century. Grateful that he’s born into wealth. In Tokyo. Things could be a lot worse. Things have been a lot worse.

 

The whole world looks tiny from the top of the roof. And no one knows he’s here. Todoroki wishes sometimes that the world would engulf him like it seems to be doing right now. His insignificance is a relief to him just as much as breathing the winter air is.

 

That something that he feels isn’t the feeling of being alive but maybe rather the feeling of being present. If he’s not present, he’s well aware he could be engulfed in his own mind just sitting here.

 

And that’s the way it’s always been. He’s never not felt like this. He’s only acutely aware that there’s such a thing.

 

But sitting on the ledge help. If he can’t jump then at least he can sit with the idea of it. It calms him down. He has control.

 

In reality, Todoroki knows that the idea of him killing himself is preposterous and also selfish. He’s training to become a hero, if he can’t save himself then who can he save? No one presumably, he’d be dead . And, besides the point, Todoroki has people who rely on him already. His mum. His sister. Even some of his classmates. Today, he’s helping Yaoyorozu and Midoriya with some circuit training. He’s not going anywhere.

 

He taps out a rhythm with his hands. Letting his legs swing like a child’s. The tips of his ears are numb now. He can feel it.

 

If he was to push himself off the edge, he thinks, he knows he’d make an ice slide. As if on instinct, just like training. Then he’d get to the ground safely, probably have to deal with the rough landing. He’d come away with a few scratches, if that. Oh, and it would definitely be seen on surveillance. Then he’d never be allowed up here again.

 

It had probably been a few minutes. Enough.  He pulls his legs up, curling in like a child. Taking in the view one last time. Before standing.

 

‘This is it,’ he thinks, laughing under his breath. ‘Do I dare ?’

 

The answer is no. It’s always going to be no.

 

And with that, he takes a step back.

 

And all at once the wind is dragged out of him, arms bound to his sides. He’s falling away from the edge.

 

Someone’s pulling him away from the edge.

 

The bind goes taut, Todoroki stumbles back. It takes enough core strength to stop himself from crumbling to the floor.

 

‘Shit. Shit .’

 

He’s not stupid. He knows it’s Aizawa. He’s cheeks burn, he doesn’t dare turn around.

 

He doesn’t have to, it’s less than a second and strong hand are gripping his shoulders. Turning him around by force.

 

“What the hell are you doing?!”

 

Aizawa hasn’t sounded so angry, ever. Todoroki feels himself jolt at the volume. He wants Aizawa to be quiet. The way it looks right now, other people could get the wrong idea as well. He doesn’t want anyone up here. He doesn’t want any attention.

 

“I wasn’t going to.” He manages to croak. The first time he’s used his voice today. “I would never.”

 

“Then why -?”

 

Todoroki expects him to finish his sentence but Aizawa doesn’t. Instead he bows his head, hands gripping Todoroki’s shoulders so tightly that he can feel them shaking.

 

“I would never,” he repeats. Trying to offer his homeroom teacher some comfort?

 

This time Aizawa looks up. His eyes are watery, deep-set bags rimming the edges. But his expression is of fear? Helplessness?

 

“Then why did you come here?” he asks. His voice a choked up whisper now. Todoroki doesn’t know what’s happening.

 

The grip on Todoroki’s shoulders doesn’t lessen at all. Aizawa’s is eyes seem to be searching his own. Todoroki knows he won’t be able to find what’s he’s looking for in his own blank expression.

 

“ Why ?!”

 

Aizawa voice rises again. Todoroki knows he needs to think of an answer. One that will satisfy his homeroom teacher. He pulls up nothing.

 

He replies honestly. “I like it up here.”

 

Aizawa seems to crumble at that. His scarf falls to the floor and the grip on Todoroki’s shoulders loosens. He watches in dismay as Aizawa folds in front of him. Crouching with his head in his hands. Making a noise that sounds like he’s in pain.

 

Todoroki wonders for a second if he should go get someone when Aizawa’s hand reaches for his own. Grabbing it and gripping it tight.

 

Now he really doesn’t know what to do. There’s a tightness in his chest. An anxiety he hasn’t felt up here. Up on the roof. Aizawa’s other hand makes a fist. It rises as if he’s going to slam it on the floor. Shaking. Full of emotion Todoroki can’t even comprehend.

 

It takes him a while before he realised he’s just stood there. His hand limp in Aizawa. He shakes his head slightly, grips his homeroom teachers hand.

 

Aizawa‘s head jerks up on reflex and Todoroki is actually surprised that his teacher is crying . Not much, but there are tears there that he uses his free hand to lazily wipe away. As if he has dirt on his face.

 

Todoroki ends up crouching beside him because he couldn’t continue like he was. Standing with Aizawa’s hand in his. Like a misbehaving child with their mother.

 

Aizawa places a hand on his shoulder again. Not hard this time. More as if he’s steadying himself. After a second it works it’s way up so Aizawa’s holding his head. Todoroki isn’t sure whether he want the two to touch foreheads or something so he tries not to resist his homeroom teachers movements.

 

By this point his own hands are turning red in the cold. He can’t feel the tip of his nose anymore, it’s probably running. He’s shivering slightly in his gym wear. Hopefully he can go for a run soon. He doubts it.

 

Aizawa breathes through his nose, nostrils flaring. “Never come up here again Todoroki. Do you understand me?”

 

A new wave of panic overflows from Todoroki’s chest into his throat. He can’t be banned from the roof. This is the one place he can breathe. He needs this place.

 

“I like it here-“ he starts to protest but Aizawa isn’t playing games anymore.

 

“I SAID NEVER .”

 

Todoroki’s eyes burn from holding back tears of his own. He’s full of anger, shame and Aizawa’s still staring at him. Frightened . His homeroom teacher is frightened because of him.

 

Just like his mum was.

 

Todoroki diminishes the thought before it can crash down on him. It’s untrue. It’s just anxiety.

 

“Yes Sensei.” he replies. He doesn’t want to. He knows he has to.

 

He swallows roughly, trying not to get angry. He’ll find a way. He’ll find another place. Another spot. He’s just so... Annoyed at himself for getting caught. How the hell did Aizawa know he was up here?!

 

Aizawa’s grip lessens. “I thought you were going to jump,” he says. His voice is meek again, Todoroki is aware that he’s hurt his homeroom teacher. The whole morning is falling to pieces like shards of glass. “I thought I hadn’t made it in time...”

 

Todoroki finds his tears threatening to overflow but not from shame anymore. He doesn’t even realise he’s crying until he sees that Aizawa is. In the back of his mind he thinks about how weird it must look, two guys crouched and crying on a roof at 5am on a Sunday, but he can’t stop shaking his head.

 

“I wouldn’t.” He repeats. “I can’t. People rely on me.”

 

“If you could,” Aizawa asks. “Would you?”

 

Todoroki knows he can’t give the correct answer to this question.

 

“I don’t know,” he replies instead. But Aizawa’s seen through it. His homeroom teacher tries to be a man about it, tries to breathe through it but the tears break through. He turns away from Todoroki and Todoroki wonders if he should do anything. And suddenly he’s engulfed in a hug, knees slammed to the ground with the force of it.

 

He’s been carried by Aizawa before, after training, but never held. It’s somewhat similar, strong and gripping. No way out. But Aizawa’s still in pyjamas and Todoroki in gym gear so their bodies are closer. Todoroki can feel his chest pounding. He’s sure Aizawa can feel him shivering.

 

“You will always have people who rely on you.” Aizawa says, his voice muffled through his hair. Draped down Todoroki’s shoulder. “And you can rely on them as well.”

 

“I know.” Todoroki replies. Because of course he knows that it’s just... that’s not the point. It’s not that easy.

 

“There will be people who will be broken without you,” he continues, prodding a finger into Todoroki’s back. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d jumped.”

 

All of a sudden it’s shifted from a teacher lecture into something that’s making Todoroki’s bottom lip quiver. He likes Aizawa as much as any other teacher at UA. Respects him even more. But this..?

 

Aizawa wasn’t on his hypothetical list of people that would miss him if he was to go. He hadn’t really thought of the repercussions of someone finding him. He’d been so het up in thinking of the shellfishness of his actions if he was dead but never this .

 

Slowly and uncertainly, he wrapped his arms around Aizawa’s torso. Allowing himself to be pulled in closer to his teachers chest. He clasped his hand around each other across Aizawa’s back and let his head fall into his teachers shoulder.

 

He didn’t know if this was for him or for Aizawa but he did know that he was feeling something . Maybe it was feeling alive. Maybe it was just feeling needed.

 

Todoroki pressed his face into his homeroom teachers shoulder, squeezed his eyes shut and pretended that the world had engulfed him.

Chapter 57: The Coffee Stained Rug

Summary:

“I spilt his pot of coffee on the floor of Aizawa's room,” Kirishima replied without taking a breath. He held up a bag of sugar. “Would this make a stain remover?”

“He has wooden floors,” Ashido replied, flopping back down onto the sofa. 

Kirishima stopped for a moment, fixing her with a stare so tight, the corners of his mouth began to shake. “Apart from the rug. You remember the rug? The cream rug?!” 

(Think the four most ill-equipped students from 1-A trying to clean a piece of carpet.)

Notes:

DUDES I'M BACK

I have no idea who's still going to be reading this fic after taking such a long break but I really needed to for my mental health. I'm a lot better now and I just wanted to say to anyone who is struggling, you can get better and things will get brighter.

I'll be taking new prompts if anyone has them, and I hope that whoever does return to read this fic takes comfort in it. I ain't going anywhere for a while :)

Iidarei98 x

“Guys, I fucked up.” 

 

Kirishima came into the common room, eyes wild, darting, his nostrils flared and forehead creased. Ashido and Uraraka, who had been sitting watching the latest episode of their K-drama, had stood to attention. Sero who was sitting the other side simply rolled his head backwards over the arm rest to look at their classmate. 

 

“What happened?” Uraraka asked with a similar level of panic beginning to rise in her voice. 

 

“Whens Aizawa back?” Kirishima asked, ignoring her question and turning to the kitchen. He started pulling cupboards open one by one, their contents rattling from inside. 

 

“He’s been gone for like forty five minutes,” Sero replied lazily. 

 

Uraraka pulled out her phone. “Do you need me to call him?”

 

“No!” Kirishima screeched turning back towards the common room at breakneck speed. “God. No. Don’t even think about it.” 

 

“What did you do?” Ashido asked. Sero sighed reaching over to pause Netflix. 

 

“I spilt his pot of coffee on the floor of his room,” Kirishima replied without taking a breath. He held up a bag of sugar. “Would this make a stain remover?”

 

“He has wooden floors,” Ashido replied, flopping back down onto the sofa. 

 

Kirishima stopped for a moment, fixing her with a stare so tight, the corners of his mouth began to shake. “Apart from the rug. You remember the rug? The cream rug?!” 

 

“Oh yeah!” she laughed. “Oh you’re an idiot!” 

 

“Why were you taking the coffee pot from his room anyway?” Sero asked. “I thought he locked it.”

 

“Barely,” Kirishima replied. “And I was doing him a favour. That coffee pot has mould growing on the top, like a new ecosystem. Today I watched him pour himself a glass, put it in the microwave and skim off the top layer. He’s going to die without intervention.” 

 

“And now you’re going to die!” Ashido cried. Uraraka was already halfway to the sink, helping route through the cupboards. 

 

“I don’t think he’ll care too much,” Sero shrugged, scrolling through his phone. 

 

“He won’t.” Kirishima agreed. “But I don’t want him knowing that I’m cleaning out his coffee pot and stuff.” 

 

Ashido raised an eyebrow. “And stuff?”

 

“Cleaning his bedsheets, emptying his bin, you know the stuff he just wouldn’t do if he was left alone.”

 

“Dude!” Sero exclaimed with a laugh. “He’s a grown man!”

 

Kirishima narrowed one eye. “Sure.” 

 

“I think it’s cute,” Uraraka commented, reaching underneath the sink and pulling out the cleaning products one by one. “I agree with Sero though, I don’t think he’ll be angry.”

 

“Neither do I,” Kirishima replied. “But that’s not the point. He’ll start locking his room ‘cause he’s embarrassed and then I won’t be able to clean or anything and then eventually he’ll turn into a hoarder and die from a variant of bacteria not known to man and even Recovery Girl won’t be able to save him. 

 

“I see you’ve thought about this,” Ashido said, picking herself up from the coach and sauntering across to the kitchen. She picked up one of the cleaning bottles, twisting it in her hand to read the label. “Let’s see the damage,” she said holding up the bottle. “Washing up liquid will do, won’t it?” 

 

“You’ve never cleaned in your life have you?” Kirishima asked, following her regardless as she left the room, making her way to the stairs. 

 

Uraraka was the only one to have half a brain, picking up the rest of the cleaning products, shoving half of them into Sero’s arms before scampering along behind. “We need someone who actually knows what they’re doing!”

 

“Where’s Iida?” Sero asked. 

 

“Nope!” Came the quick reply from Kirishima. “I think I’d rather have Aizawa know what happened than our class rep. Midoryia?”

 

“He’s still in the infirmary.” Uraraka replied. “I think he’s coming back today though. Not sure when though.”

 

The four of them stopped suddenly, Ashido knocking quite loudly on one of the dorm room doors. It took a moment but eventually the door creaked open. 

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey Tokoyami!” Ashido cried, pulling the door open completely. “Do you know how to clean stuff? Preferably carpets but we’ll take pretty much any type of upholstery.”

 

Tokoyami narrowed his eyes. “Please tell me I’m still dreaming.”

 

“Oh. You were asleep?” Ashido asked innocently. “It would be a pretty rubbish dream if you were.”

 

“Coming from you, I almost appreciate that,” Tokoyami replied, yawning before poking his head out of his room, looking around at the rest of them. “Who did what?”

 

“Kirishima spilt coffee over Aizawa’s rug.” Sero said. 

 

Tokoyami though for a moment before recalling. “The cream one?”

 

The four nodded. 

 

“He won’t care.” 

 

“Dude. That’s not helpful!” Kirishima cried. 

 

“We’re going to clean it up,” Uraraka continued to explain. “None of these bottles say ‘fabric’ on them though so I don’t know exactly if they’ll work.”

 

“Plus, Aizawa will be back at, like, any moment.” Ashido finished.

 

“I have one suggestion.” Tokoyami said, holding his hand up and waiting for the attention of the corridor. “Cut the stained part off.”

 

It was Kirishima who slammed the door in his face. 

 

“He was probably just annoyed we woke him up.” Ashido reasoned as the four continued to head to Aizawa’s room. 

 

—

 

“It’s not that bad!”

 

The four had managed to sneak into their teachers room without bothering any of their other classmates, much to Kirishima’s delight. Aizawa still wasn’t back from wherever he’d gone, none of them had been paying attention, and as soon as they’d entered the room, Uraraka was in the bathroom. Spray in one hand, cloth in the other. 

 

“I brought the bathroom cleaner, I might as well.” she’d protested. 

 

“Can we focus on the issue though?” Kirishima asked. 

 

Sero crouched down to look at the rug. It was soft, almost like fux fur, a creams white colour. Apart from the obvious dark brown stain that trailed from the corner to about a third of the way in, puddling close to the side edge. “We could totally put that in the washing machine.”

 

“I already checked the label, you can’t.” Kirishima replied. “Also how would I get it there and back in time before he noticed.”

 

“Oh! I have it!” Ashido cried, shooing the boys out of the way, before picking up the rug by one of its corners. She lifted it into the air until it stood before flopping it back down. “There!”

 

“You’ve just put it upside down.” Kirishima said. It was true. Now instead of soft cream material it was the underside of the rug, a matted brown lining. 

 

Ashido pointed to Kirishima triumphantly. “The question you want to be asking yourself is, ‘Will Aizawa notice?’”

 

The two boys stared at her for a moment. “Yes.”

 

“What do you mean?” Ashido pouted. 

 

Kirishima’s nostrils flared. “Oh instead of just a tiny bit of it being brown, the whole thing is!” 

 

“But that’s not coffee.” Ashido pointed out.

 

“I think he’s referring to the colour.” Sero said, reaching over to pat his friend on the back. 

 

“What are you doing?!” A voice hissed from behind them. The group turned just in time to see Jiro running towards them, yanking Ashido by the arm. “I thought I heard voices.”

 

Ashido didn’t stop to question Jiro’s motives, simply grabbing the nearest boy to her left. Which happened to be Sero, the lanky teen loosing balance almost immediately, tripping over his feet. “Woah, woah! What the fuck?!” 

 

“Aizawa is, like, on his way down here.” Jiro replied. “I’m being a good classmate and warning you guys before you get murdered or worse, detention.”

 

“How did you know?” Sero asked, brushing himself off before tuning back to Kirishima who was still staring at the stained rug. “Dude! Come on!”

 

“I was doing my washing in the laundry room,” Jiro replied. “It’s only next door so I figured you guys were Aizawa until I heard him come through the front door. Why are you even in here?”

 

Kirishima looked up finally, his eyes glazed. “We can’t go! The rug!” 

 

“Yeah, why’s it turned over like that?” Jiro asked. 

 

“Long story,” Ashido sighed. “Seriously Kiri. He won’t notice.”

 

Kirishima stared. “That’s bullshit.”

 

“Guys,” Jiro winced, edging for the door. “Not much time left. And I won’t hesitate to ditch you.” 

 

“He’ll fall fast asleep,” Ashido continued, her voice soft. Kirishima’s eyes narrowed at her. “He won’t notice and then at night we can steal it back and fix it.”

 

“I wish you guys could hear what you were saying.” Sero sighed.

 

Jiro waited no longer, letting go of Ashido’s arm and moving out of the door. Sero quickly followed, Ashido beckoning Kirishima to follow. The teen hesitated, looking back and forth between the carpet and the doorway before-

 

“You’re taking it with you?!” Sero hissed. 

 

Kirishima battled with the rug, hoisting it up into his chest. “He won’t notice what isn’t there.”

 

Sero opened his mouth. And closed it again. “Sure dude, sure.”

 

This time they could all hear footsteps coming down the stairs. The four ran out of their homeroom teachers room, stopping momentarily to carefully shut the door close behind them, before pelting it down the hallway. They threw themselves into the laundry room as they heard footsteps pace round the corner. 

 

Kirishima threw the rug on top of the dryers, panting slightly. “That was close.”

 

“Yeah, thanks to you.” Jiro retorted. 

 

“Shit.”

 

The three turned to Sero, the colour draining ever so slightly from his face. 

 

“What?” Ashido asked quickly. “What did we do? What did we leave?”

 

“Uraraka,” Sero said. “We left Uraraka in his fucking bathroom.”

 

—

 

Midoriya was excited to leave the infirmary and come back to dorms. He’d been caught in a pretty bad villain fight in the streets of downtown Tokyo whilst training with Mirio. It was exciting to be doing something on his internship, rather than just patrolling the streets but now he was on bedrest for at least the next day. He could always plan something with Iida and Uraraka. A movie day maybe, or he could help them train, hold the stopwatch for Iida whilst he ran or let Uraraka float him for as long as she could. Bedrest was just rest after all. The ‘bed’ part was purely hypothetical. Probably. 

 

Turning into the common area, he was surprised to see that it was quite full. There was weird ocean music playing out the TV and the lights were dimmed. Midoriya stopped in the doorway for a moment, trying to work out what exactly was happening when he recognised a familiar bob of hair. “What are you guys doing?”

 

Sero and Kirishima turned at the same time their faces lighting up as they saw him. Kirishima was holding some sort of fan, Sero a drink with a plastic straw hanging in it. 

 

“Izuku!” Uraraka cried, her head popping up from the sofa. 

 

Midoriya gasped under his breath. “Uraraka? What happened to your face?”

 

“Oh! It’s a face mask!” She replied. “I’m being pampered.”

 

“We left her in Aizawa-Sensei’s bathroom.” Ashido explained, holding up the nail polish she was currently applying to Uraraka’s right hand. 

 

Midoriya opened his mouth slightly, but Sero held up his free hand. “Don’t ask.” 

 

“Oh, do you know how to clean a rug?” Kirishima asked. “Per chance.”

 

“I don’t think my drugs have worn off properly,” Midoriya laughed nervously. “Put it in the washing machine I guess?” 

 

“Can you do that?” Kirishima asked. “Put a rug in the washing machine?”

 

“Why not?” Sero said. “I mean, we could try it.” 

 

“It’s not going to fit.” Ashido pointed out. 

 

Midoriya cocked his head to one side. “Wait, Uraraka, how did you get out Aizawa-Sensei’s room?” 

 

“Oh I just left when he was asleep,” Uraraka replied, taking a sip of her drink. “I managed to clean his toilet, the sink, the tiles, the shower-!” 

 

Kirishima gasped. “The shower! Perfect!” 

 

Midoriya watched as the four hopped up suddenly, as if in sync, Sero running the drink into the kitchen and Kirishima dropping the fan where he stood. Even Uraraka got up, fanning her hand in an attempt to dry the nail polish. She turned to Midoriya. “You coming?”

 

“What… are you doing?” Midoryia asked, hoisting his bag up onto his shoulder and following anyway. 

 

“Cleaning a rug.” Uraraka shrugged. 

 

“Oh. Okay.”

 

—

 

“Kirishima, you’re getting water all over us,” Ashido cried, reaching over to grab her towel and draping it in front of her, getting splashed in the process. “Point the shower head towards the wall!”

 

“Keep it down.” Sero hissed.

 

The, now five, students were in the shower room. Kirishima having heaved Aizawa’s rug into one of the cubicles, was now hosing it down with water. The rug was growing heavy with the weight of the water, falling further down the shower and dripping a small puddle onto the floor. 

 

Midoryia turned to Uraraka, whispering to make sure Kirishima wasn’t in earshot. “Couldn’t you have just asked Yayorozu to make a new rug?” 

 

“We tried,” Ashido piped up from beside them, pulling her phone out from her pocket. “This is what she replied. 

 

Midoriya squinted at the message on the phone screen. 

 

From Momo-

Sure, here are my rates;

Personal item - ¥120

Common room item - ¥280

Someone else’s stuff - ¥410

A teachers stuff - ¥640

(If the damage is done by Bakugou, he should pay)

Let me know!

 

“We took her for granted.” Ashido sighed, clicking her phone off.

 

“You don’t have ¥640?” Midoriya asked. 

 

Ashido shook her head, “Kirishima doesn’t. And we’re not helping. We’re here for moral support. 

 

“Can I have some actual support?!” Kirishima yelled, battling with the rug as it slipped further onto the floor. 

 

“Be quiet!” Sero warned. “You’re going to wake people up!” 

 

“It’s heavy!” Kirishima replied, trying in vain to hoist the rug back into the shower cubical. “I need a hand!”

 

“Oh it’s getting my slippers wet!” Ashido cried. 

 

“Take them off then!” Kirishima yelled back. 

 

Sero stepped forward to try and pull the rug up but ended up slipping over on the wet floor, landing butt first on the tiles. “Fuck!” 

 

“Someones coming.” Uraraka said under her breath, moments before the bathroom door swung open. 

 

“What the hell are you extra’s doing?!” 

 

Bakugou stormed in half asleep, Jiro following on his heels. 

 

“I tried to explain.” Jiro said sheepishly. 

 

“Kirishima, turn off the water,” Sero said quietly. “You’re getting me soaked.”

 

“Bakugou?! You never wake up.” Kirishima said, surprised. 

 

“I needed to brush my teeth.”

 

“What happened in here?” Jiro asked looking at the rug, soaking wet and dripping on the floor. “Did you just shower a rug?”

 

“We tried.” Kirishima replied. 

 

“You didn’t even get rid of the stain.” Jiro pointed out. Kirishima winced in response, slamming his head onto the floor.

 

“I have the stain remover!” Uraraka said, reaching over to a nearby sink and pulling out a pink tub. She scanned the back quickly before finding what she needed. “It's for cars but I think it'll work."

 

"What does it say?" Kirishima asked impatiently.

 

Uraraka took a breath. "Step one, apply the powder to the surface of the metal when it is completely dry-”

 

“Dry?!” Kirishima cried. “Seriously?! Dry?!

 

“That’s going to take hours to dry,” Jiro commented. “If not days.”

 

“Easy fix.” Bakugou grinned, stepping forward and brandishing his palms. 

 

“Kacchan!” Midoriya cried in horror as he watched his childhood friend’s hands crackle with energy, heat rippling through his palms glowing hotter and hotter until dark smoke started pouring from his fingertips. Uraraka and Midoriya managed to pull both Sero and Kirishima away before a concentrated explosion hit the rug. Immediately the room filled with steam, a burning sort of coffee-ish smell resonating from the floor. 

 

There was silence for a moment before;

 

“Should we get some scissors then?” Ashido asked. 

 

Sero sighed “I hate that that sounds like a good idea.”

 

 

Chapter 58: Quarantined with the Mutants

Summary:

A villain had managed to infiltrate the outer campus of UA. Everyone they touch becomes infections but in... weird ways. And now Aizawa's trapped in dorms with 20 children.

One of which is already infected.

Notes:

Hey guys! THANK YOU so much for your support last week, so many of you came back to read this work and I was so humbled by it. I'm so beyond grateful that you've waited for me and still enjoy the story.

This chapter is for purplemalemute, who I still speak to everyday!!! Thank you for your friendship :)

I'm making a note of all your prompts, including ones I missed from the previous year so thank you for waiting !!

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMS. 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMSZSZZZ. 

 

Aizawa grimaced under his breath as the tannoy played the same message over and over. It would be okay if it was pre-recorded but the teacher knew it was just Hizashi over a microphone saying the same sentence on repeat. 

 

A villain had managed to infiltrate the outer campus of UA. Not much of a problem what with security being as tight as it was but this villain had a quirk which made everyone they touched infectious. The symptoms seemed to vary from person to person. One teacher had come out in pink spots, one had grown bright green body hair. Another one had become blind. Clearly drawn the short straw there. 

 

Aizawa would rather jump off the top building of Heights Alliance than have any of his class succumb to the villain or indeed any of its victims. Who were still walking around campus in a zombie like state. He’d ran around the training grounds like a madman, collecting students mid training, dumping them in the common room. Phoning Nezu had revealed that even though the villain had been detained, it would be a matter of days before all the victims symptoms wore off. A matter of days in the same room with the same students. 

 

“We have three cans of spaghetti hoops All Might brought from America and five packets of instant ramen.” There was a pause as Aizawa looked up at the kids in class 1A. “Who ate all the food?”

 

“We haven’t actually done a shop in at least the last two weeks. Sensei.” Todoroki pointed out. Aizawa pouted in his direction but turned back to the kitchen. 

 

“Why are you all watching me anyway?” He muttered. 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMS. 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMSZSZZZ. 

 

Yayorozu was in the corner making ear plugs. Aizawa glanced at her for a moment. “The announcement will stop soon. As soon as everyone gets the message.” 

 

“I’m sure everyone’s heard it by now.” Shinsou commented. Aizawa forgot, in his haste he’d mistaken him for one of his own, bringing him into his dorm.

 

“There are a lot of stupid people in UA.” Aizawa replied. 

 

“Natural selection.” Shinsou replied. Aizawa couldn’t exactly argue. 

 

He opened up the fridge, peering at the shelves. “Is there anything else but cheese in here?” 

 

“No one is allowed my fromage!” A familiar voice called from the sofas. “Non!” 

 

“We’re all going to starve then.” Aizawa said, slamming the fridge door. 

 

“We can live off of the Sensei diet!” Kaminari cried, too close to Aizawa’s ear. 

 

“What’s that?” He asked, regretting the sentence as it left his mouth. 

 

“Coffee!” 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMS. 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMSZSZZZ. 

 

“Not one of you is having a drop of coffee.” Aizawa warned. Shinsou began to put his hand up. “Apart from you.”

 

Shinsou nodded. "It warms up my cold, dead soul."

 

“I have some box cake mixes,” Sato said, standing up, one of Kouda’s rabbits climbing over his arms. “I just need, eggs I think? And oil.”

 

“Do we have them..?” Aizawa started. 

 

Kaminari pointed in Yayorozu’s direction. “Make us some chickens!”

 

She looked up, her eyes narrowed. “Kaminari go plug yourself into the mains.”

 

“I can improvise?” Sato offered. 

 

“Can’t we eat the rabbit?” Shinsou said under his breath. 

 

Aizawa sighed. “Unfortunately not.” He looked at Sato and then back at the cupboards. “I trust you to improvise. But we can’t just eat cake for two weeks.” 

 

Ashido danced past him, twirling towards the sink. “Why not?”

 

“Stop washing your make up thing in the sink.” Aizawa replied. Mostly because he couldn’t think of a non-hypocritical answer to ‘why not’.

 

“It’s a beauty blender, Sensei. You wouldn’t understand.” 

 

“I-”

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMS. 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMSZSZZZ. 

 

“Right. That’s it.” Aizawa grabbed his phone out of his pocket, speeding the only number he had. 

 

His students (and Shinsou) watched as the phone rang once, twice, three times, before.

 

‘YO YO YOOOOOO.’

 

“Yamada if you don’t shut the hell up with that tannoy-” Aizawa noticed the twenty one pairs of eyes fixated on him. He held his phone close to his mouth, cupping his hands over it and turning to face the cabinets. “I’ll shove that microphone so far up your backside you’ll be permanently micc’ed.” 

 

“TOO LATEE!” His best friend yelled in reply. “Really though, am I that annoying?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“I have to make this announcement Shota,” Hizashi replied. “Nezu warned me that if I don’t-”

 

Aizawa growled and hung up.

 

“Sensei..?”

 

Aizawa looked up to see Jiro, her ear jacks perked at one angle. He looked over to where she was pointing but saw nothing, raising his hand slightly to try and get some silence. 

 

“I’ll do your make up if you want,” Ashido was saying to an increasingly more uncomfortable Todoroki. “I can match the scar to the rest of your skin tone.” 

 

“You’d make my whole face look like a scar?” 

 

“No!” 

 

“Now that Aizawa has phoned Mic, you can stop making earplugs now.” Mineta said to Yayorozu. 

 

She gave him a withering look. “Seriously?”

 

“Shh!” Aizawa hissed to no avail. Jiro was still listening intently to something. Aizawa could only guess as to what and it wasn’t good. 

 

“Eating a rabbit is basically the same as eating a bird,” Shinsou was arguing with Tokoyami. 

 

“Oh so you’d eat Hawk?” Tokoyami responded quizzically. 

 

“Clearly the example was you.”

 

“QUIET!” Aizawa yelled, his voice echoing over the common room. Even Shinsou looked surprised at his not-quite-homeroom-teacher, his eyebrow rising in concern. “Right. Jiro.”

 

Jiro looked up, her ear jacks returning to their position after being blasted by Aizawa’s voice. “I think there’s someone outside the room.”

 

Silence fell among the class. Aizawa nodded, putting his finger to his lips and motioning his class to stay put. Reaching over, he grabbed Todoroki’s arm, beckoning him to follow him, mouthing the words ‘ice’. Todoroki caught onto what his teacher was saying immediately and the two of them creeped towards the kitchen door, Jiro following closely. The rest of the class couldn’t help but spread out into defensive position, marking the entrances and windows. 

 

Jiro motioned her finger down, criss-crossing her first two fingers to mimic stairs. Aizawa and Todoroki nodded, peering down at the crack underneath the door. Suddenly Aizawa could hear it too. The noise of footsteps on the stairs, getting louder and louder before soon he could see shadows creeping on the other side of the door. 

 

“Who’s there?” He called. No response. He looked at both of his students, who nodded in reply, turning back to see his class ready. If it was who he thought it was then they were in trouble. 

 

He held up three fingers. Three. Two. One. 

 

Grabbing the handle, he pulled down sharply throwing the door open. He barely managed to take the figure in before he was yelling, slamming the door shut. The infected pushed themselves against the frame, battling to get in before there were two hands pushing beside him. Then four hands. Sato and Shoji using their combined weight to help click the door close. 

 

“Now! Todoroki!”

 

Todoroki focused his hand on the door lock, ice shards escaping from the tips of his fingers and freezing the lock. After a few seconds the ice encased most of the door, Sato, Shoji and Aizawa pulling away, all of them watching as the shadow on the floor slowly receding. 

 

Aizawa turned sharply to his class. “Who didn’t lock the front door?”

 

He seemed to be met with confused expressions. Aizawa scanned the room for suspects. Once, twice, then- “Where’s Iida.”

 

This time everyone looked around. Midoriya got up to run towards the freshly frozen door. “I can go check for him in dorms.”

 

Aizawa grabbed his arms to hold him back. Jiro held up a hand, pointing to the door. “I think that was Iida. He was going to visit his brother today wasn’t he? What time was he due back?” 

 

“I thought it was ages ago, like midday…” Midoriya said. 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMS. 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMSZSZZZ. 

 

“The trains were delayed.” Todoroki replied, holding up the news app on his phone. “He must have only arrived back on campus now.”

 

Aizawa turned back towards the door. “We have to make sure he’s contained in here. We can’t let him get back out onto campus.”

 

“That would be so cold!” Uraraka chimed. 

 

“It would be so much paperwork.” Aizawa muttered. “Okay we’ll have to trap him somewhere he can’t hurt anyone. Or himself.”

 

Yayorozu stood, looking around the room. “I could make make some sort of cage thing?” She suggested. “If we used that and maybe some of the furniture to trap him in the corridor.”

 

“The ice will melt on the door in the next half an hour.” Todoroki said. 

 

“That’ll have to be barricaded as well.” Aizawa said, sighing. “Okay, let’s get the kitchen cupboards sealed up.”

 

The class worked together to pull the remaining food from the kitchen, piling it up on the coffee table. 

 

“Bring the microwave oven,” Sato suggested. “We can plug it in somewhere else.”

 

“And the coffee machine.” Shinsou chimed. 

 

Once that was done, Yayorozu made child locks for all the cupboards, Hagakure feeding her squares of chocolate as she did. “Are these going to be strong enough?” She asked as Midoriya and Uraraka picked them up off the floor, passing them to the rest of 1A. 

 

“Those infected seem to have limited intelligence.” Todoroki shrugged. 

 

“Yeah, Iida would have used his quirk to get in here by now if he was thinking logically.” Midoriya agreed. 

 

Aizawa outwardly grimiced. “If only I believed in religion. I could pray.” He was met with confused glances. “Let’s barricade the door.”

 

Ten minutes later and Aizawa was crouched with his students behind a sofa.

 

“Why aren’t we standing?” Todoroki asked. “It’s not like we’re hiding.”

 

“Good point.”

 

They stood. 

 

“What now?” Shinsou asked. 

 

“Oh fu-” Aizawa stopped himself mid-word, placing his hand over his chest. “I need to let your homeroom teachers know you’re with us.” 

 

Shinsou raised one eyebrow, his mouth creeping into what could be mistaken for a smile. 

 

“I didn’t swear,” Aizawa growled. “I forgot you were here.”

 

Mineta put his hand up. “What happens if we need the toilet?” 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMS. 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMSZSZZZ. 

 

“You can just go out through the living room and up the stairs. Use the ones in your dorms.” Shoji pointed out. Mineta scampered off. 

 

The rest of the class stood for a few minutes redundantly before eventually relaxing, sitting on the sofas and bringing out their phones. 

 

“Apparently this is a problem all over Tokyo,” Uraraka said. Her and Midoriya were reading news articles. She turned to Todoroki. “You’re dad is on the scene.”

 

“So’s Hawks.” Todoroki replied. 

 

“Are they good friends?” Yayorozu asked nonchalantly. 

 

Todoroki sighed. “Kind of?”

 

Midoriya chimed in, “Has he come round to your house and stuff?”

 

“I try to avoid my house.”

 

“It must be cool to be on such close terms with two of the most popular heroes,” Tokyoami shrugged. 

 

“Not when one of them’s a prick.”

 

Aizawa looked up from where he was resetting the clock on his coffee machine. “Language.”

 

Uraraka sighed. “I hope Iida’s okay.”

 

“He’s been really quiet,” Ashido piped up. “Is he still outside the door.”

 

“I expect so, where else could he go?” Shoji asked. 

 

“Well doesn’t the corridor loop around to the stairwell?” Hagakure asked from where she was plaiting Yaoyorozu’s hair. “He can get up to the mens dorm rooms from there.”

 

“I didn’t lock my door.” Tokoyami winched. 

 

“You extras need to learn to keep your shit safer.” Bakugou chimed. 

 

“Language!”

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMS. 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMSZSZZZ. 

 

“Sensei, can we make hot chocolate in your coffee machine?” Ashido asked. 

 

Aizawa looked up, dead in the eyes. “Yes.” Ashido went to speak but Aizawa raised one finger stopping her. “If my coffee’s end up tasting like mocha’s you’ll be buying me a new coffee machine.”

 

“I’d just clean it Sensei, don’t worry!” Ashido beamed.

 

“New coffee machine.”

 

“We can have movie nights now!” Ashido continued, ignoring the pouts of her homeroom teacher. “And I think there was some popcorn somewhere that we can put in the microwave oven!”

 

Shinsou couldn’t control himself any longer, bursting out with laughter. Ashido almost looked hurt. 

 

“What’s wrong with a movie night?” She asked as Shinsou shook his head. 

 

“You fucking mocking us, purple hair?” Bakugou snarled. 

 

“If you swear one more time Bakugou I will be putting you in detention.” Aizawa warned. 

 

“Purple hair is the most pathetic insult you could come up with.” Shinsou retorted.

 

Bakugou stood up, ignoring his homeroom teacher, eyes narrowed at the 1A intruder.

 

“You want me to waste my time on you?” He asked. “Go to hell.”

 

“With you here,” Shinsou sneered. “We’re already in it.”

 

Bakugou’s eye twitched, his palms flexing. “You’re fucked.”

 

“Right that’s it!” Aizawa yelled, standing. “Both of you, opposite ends of the room. I want you facing the walls and shutting up until I tell you!” 

 

By this point both Bakugou and Shinsou were an inch away from each others faces. Bakugou snarled. 

 

“By the way.” Shinsou whispered, glancing up at the door. “Where’s Mineta?” 

 

Aizawa intervened, grabbing both boys shoulders and roughly pushing them into the corners of the common area. Bakugou did what he was told without much complaint, his face lost in thought. He turned, just as he got to the edge. “We have to barricade the other doors. You son of a bitch! You knew!” 

 

Shinsou looked genuinely worried for a moment. “I didn’t. I figured it out just then.” 

 

“Figured what out?” Aizawa asked, his voice sharp. 

 

“If Iida isn’t outside the kitchen door then he must have found his way to the dorms. And that’s where-”

 

“Mineta went.” Aizawa finished Shinsou’s sentence. “Crap.”

 

His students looked up. Aizawa silenced them with a stare. 

 

“I said it was okay to go,” Shoji said, his face paled. 

 

“You’re okay,” Aizawa said, fixing his student with a stare. “It’s okay.”

 

“Dark Shadow can help look for them,” Tokoyami offered.

 

“And I can listen out for them.” Jiro agreed. 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMS. 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMSZSZZZ. 

 

“As we keep on getting reminded, this is a quarantine,” Aizawa stressed. “I can’t put you in danger. We don’t know the side effects to getting hit with this quirk and we don’t know how long it’s going to last.”

 

“We’re heroes!” Midoryia said, stepping forward. “This is what we were taught to do.”

 

Aizawa sighed. “Alright, enough with the hero spiel. You do what I tell you to do. Nothing else.”

 

His class nodded.

 

“We’re not going to approach either Iida or Mineta if they’ve been infected. But we need to go downstairs and barricade the main door so nothing more can get in and out. We also need to block the doors from the common area and the dorms. I want it done with no arguments, no deviations to the plan. If you see either boys and they’ve been infected you stay away from them, am I clear?”

 

There was a chorus of ‘yes Sensei’s’. 

 

“And if anyone gets infected, injured or dies, I’ll give you lifelong detention.”

 

There was a less confident chorus of ‘yes Sensei’s’.

 

The class divided itself up into two groups. One to protect the common area and one to go downstairs and shut the front door. Aizawa was confident in his students abilities however if he had to stand and protect them and risk getting infected and not hear Yamada’s voice again. That was also okay. 

 

In the common room, Kirishima swung back onto the sofa. “I think we’ll be safe in here.” 

 

“Do you think Iida and Mineta are okay?” Yayorozu asked, lifting one of the heavier lamps onto the sofa barricade to weigh it down. “I don’t want them to get hurt.”

 

“Not even Mineta?”

 

Yayorozu shot Kaminari a look.

 

“I think we should all be quieter,” Ashido said, peering out the window. “Without Jiro here it’s kind of unnerving knowing we can’t hear as well.”

 

“That’s rich coming from you.” Kaminari chimed. “Besides we have Todoroki, he can just barricade the other entrance if anything tries to get us.”

 

Todoroki looked up. “Why is it up to me?”

 

“I could be a hero as well.” Shinsou muttered. No one heard. 

 

“Get off the sofa Kirishima,” Yayorozu said, pushing the red haired boy lightly on the back. “We need to move it in position so that when the others get back we can get the door shut behind them.” 

 

Kirishima dramatically rolled off the sofa. “I’ll help move it.”

 

“Me too.” Koda added, the three twisting the furniture around until it faced the door. 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMS. 

 

THERE IS AN EMERGENCY QUARANTINE PROCEDURE IN PLACE. PLEASE STAY INSIDE YOUR DORMSZSZZZ.

 

Kaminari held up his phone. “Jiro’s snapchatting me.”

 

Shinsou sighed. “You guys like to take things seriously, huh?” 

 

No one heard however as Kaminari started howling with laughter. “OH MY GOD. He’s turned into a ball.”

 

“What? Who?” Yayorozu asked, the group crowding around Kaminari’s phone. 

 

“Mineta!” Kaminari explained, showing them the video Jiro had hastily taken. “He’s mutated into a fucking purple bouncy ball. HA!” 

 

“It’s not funny!” Yayorozu cried, her lips curling in protest. 

 

“Yeah, poor Mineta.” Ashido said seriously before bursting into laughter as well. “I love it, he’s never living it down.”

 

“Who’s that?” Shinsou asked, pointing out of the window and squinting. Todoroki turned to look as well, Koda and Kirishima following behind. 

 

Out the window a figure was flying towards them, blocked by the sunlight at first before slowly becoming clearer and clearer. 

 

“My dudes!” The muffled voice shouted through the glass. “You holding up okay?” 

 

“Hawks!” Ashido cried. Then in a whisper so she couldn’t be heard. “He’s so hot in real life. Do you really think he’s a prick Todoroki?” 

 

“I take the compliment!” Hawks shouted back, pointing to his mouth. “I can lip read!”

 

“I don’t think you’re a prick, I mean't my dad..!” Todoroki shouted through gritted teeth. “We have two mutated in the building and our front door is open. Aizawa and the rest of our class are down trying to close it.”

 

Hawks gave them a thumbs up. “Cool. I’m going to pick up some food, need anything?”

 

“Do you think he heard us?” Yayorozu asked. 

 

“He can lip-read.” Ashido reminded her. “Can we get some chicken nuggets.”

 

“Yes but I take that personally.” Hawks replied. He turned to fly off before calling over his shoulder. “Oh General Studies are missing Shinsou- Oh, you’re there!”

 

Shinsou waved. 

 

“Okay! Bye!”

 

“We’re dumb!” Kirishima laughed. “We should have just opened a window!”

 

“SHUT THE DOOR!” 

 

Behind them, Midoriya ran in, the rest of 1A following behind. Yayorozu, Kirishima and Koda ran to grab the sofa, pushing it into place as Shoji pushed the door closed. Todoroki shot it with ice, freezing the furniture to the wood before a large bang could be heard on the other side. 

 

“That might go on for a while,” Uraraka explained. “Mineta, he’s a-“

 

“A ball, we know,” Ashido replied. “Did you find Iida?” 

 

“Yeah, he’s like a zombie it’s weird.” Midoriya replied, grabbing his jumper weirdly. There was something moving inside of it, pulling at the stitching of his pocket. 

 

“Midoriya..?” Todoroki asked, the others taking a step back. “Did you get touched?”

 

“What?” Midoriya asked, looking down. “Oh! No! It’s Aizawa.”

 

“You IDIOT!” Bakugou cried from the side of him. “You didn’t?!” 

 

Startled by the sudden noise, Midoriya let go of his clothing, the item in his pocket falling to the floor. A black cat with jet red eyes jumped from his jumper, hissing at its captor before jumping onto the tv stand. 

 

“Aizawa got hit?” Kirishima asked. Midoriya nodded. "He turned into a cat!"

 

“We can’t keep him in here!” Bakugou yelled. “I’m not risking that!” 

 

“This is our teacher we’re talking about!” Midoriya replied. “If you don’t touch him with skin you’ll be okay!”

 

Bakugou glared. “He’s a mutant cat.”

 

The Aizawa-cat took offence to that, jumping from the tv stand to the floor, hissing at the class. 

 

Ashido narrowly jumped out of the way, squealing as she did. “Get him out!”

 

“We could try and trap him in a cage?!” Yayorozu suggested quickly. “I mean I could make him a cage.”

 

Shinsou had to duck to the floor as the animal made a leap to the window-sill. “This is mental.”

 

“That’s it.” Bakugou threw his jumper off, grabbing Kaminari by the collar. “Open the window.”

 

“Wha-? Why? Shit, shit, okay Bakugou okay!” 

 

Kaminari ran to the window, hopping up on a chair to reach the opening. Bakugou wrapped his jumper around his hands and forearms, lunging for the cat, grabbing it by its hind legs. The cat screeched in anguish, its claws digging into the wood but Bakugou was stronger. He yanked it away, still holding it by its legs, jumping into the air and flinging the animal out of the open window. 

 

Class 1A (and Shinsou) watched in horror as the cat, formally known as their homeroom teacher, flailed its arms and legs, free falling in the air almost in slow motion before disappearing out of view. 

 

There was a moment of silence before-

 

“Bakugou?!

 

“DUDE! What the HELL?!”

 

Midoryia’s mouth stayed wide open. “Kacchan… You threw Aizawa out of a window?!”

 

“Look! We all know cats land on their feet.” Bakugou replied. “It’s not a huge deal.”

 

“Bakugou, we’re on the third floor.” Yayorozu said, trying to keep her voice from wavering. Bakugou’s confidence started to fade from his expression. 

 

Shinsou looked around at the hero first years. 

 

“I want to join your class so bad.”

 

Chapter 59: It Brings Out the Best in Us

Summary:

Hizashi's staying round Aizawa's,
Aizawa's caring for Izuku

A big hug of a chapter

Notes:

Happy Friday! I hope y'all have had amazing weeks.

This chapter is a prompt by phAnt0mgh0st7018 - kind of - look I'm terrible at following prompts, I just take the vague idea and run with it. It was meant to be a dadzawa with Izuku thing but I only write cannon so I toed the line a bit and I love the concept of this one so much - So I hope you enjoy it too!!

As always, thank you all so much for continuing to support x

Halfway through his first year of teaching, Aizawa got an email telling him and all the other members of staff that he was mandated to perform a mid-year review for every one of his students. There were a few questions such as ‘Has UA provided you with the education you expected?’ and ‘Have you run into any financial difficulties since starting the course?’. It usually only took fifteen minutes for each student and although Aizawa hated every second of starting the questionnaire he often found himself intrigued by his students answers. They’d call out certain aspects of UA that needed to be changed or they’d start to fight for different rights and bulling to be stopped, interspecies relationships, that sort of thing. 

There was one particular year when Japan was fighting against the EU’s progressive stances on gay marriage. Aizawa didn’t want to get married but apparently some gay couples who were being victimised were turning into villains as a way of trying to escape the oppression. UA students wanted to fight for their rights, much harder than Aizawa had expected, and he found himself wanting to join them in their rally. Unfortunately, to no surprise, to actively be seen supporting the legalisation of gay marriage in Japan would end up in Aizawa’s hero license being suspended and he couldn’t afford that, on account that he had to pay the bills. With Nezu, the response was the same but UA could make sure that each one of their students felt safe. If someone could identify as a mouse, identifying as gay wasn’t much of a stretch. That was UA’s unspoken stance on the topic and that was as good as it was going to get. 

 

There had been other issues that had cropped up in this mid-year reviews but that was the one that stuck in Aizawa’s mind the most.

 

“It’s because you’re so closeted.” Nemuri had said. 

 

“Try telling that to Joke.” Aizawa had barked back. 

 

Now, in his, God he didn’t even know how long he’d been teaching at the damn school, Aizawa had booked in Class 1A’s reviews for the same week as he did every year. And then they got attacked by villains. 

 

The next week was off because half of them were in the infirmary. The week after were their practical exams and the week after that they were back in the infirmary. 

 

Aizawa had wondered for a while if it was worth shoving everything into a google docs form and emailing it to his students, which in the end he did. Which was a mistake. 

 

In his next class, he slammed both hands on the desk, his students turning their heads at remarkable speed to look up at him. “If you don’t take these mid-year reviews seriously then I’ll kick you out of this school faster than it’ll take you to run out.”

 

After that, there were some much more educated responses coming out of 1A. Apart from one student but Aizawa decided to leave it. That particular student wasn’t the type to not take an assessment seriously so Aizawa figured they must have their reason. 

 

A month later and Aizawa had completely forgotten about the forms. It was approaching spring and Hizashi was taking up space on his futon. 

 

“I can’t believe you don’t have your own room at UA.” he muttered, going over to the coffee jug to find out it was empty. And clean. Did he clean it? He didn’t remember cleaning it.

 

“I do,” Hizashi replied, grinning at Aizawa until his best friend gave him his textbook glare. “I’m joking, I appreciate you letting me stay though. Getting up at three in the morning for this radio show would kill me if I was at home.”

 

“How long’s your commute to Tokyo?” Aizawa asked, filling his coffee pot up in the bathroom sink.

 

“At rush hour?” Hizashi snorted. “Like two hours.”

 

Aizawa shrugged, making his way back into his room, stepping over Hizashi. 

 

“Didn’t your rug used to be bigger than this?” The blond asked. 

 

Aizawa looked over to where he was pointing. “I don’t know. I think it used to be white.”

 

“It looks singed.”

 

Aizawa was about to reply when his phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket with two fingers, letting the edge slip a few times before finally getting a grip on it. The name on the screen read ‘Chiyo’, Recovery Girl. Aizawa could only imagine what his students were getting up to this time. 

 

“Shota?” The woman asked before Aizawa could open his mouth. “Can you do me a favour?”

 

—

 

Half an hour later and Aizawa kicked his door open once more. 

 

He snapped at Hizashi. “You could have helped me.” 

 

The man was lousily throwing his stuff from the futon to Aizawa’s sofa. “I didn’t hear you come back,” he shrugged. “How’s the injured one?”

 

Midoriya attempted to poke his head up from Aizawa’s arms, squinting at his English teacher with one black eye. “I’m okay!” 

 

“He’s on drugs.” Aizawa replied for him, gingerly placing him down onto his bed. 

 

“Ah the youth of today,” Hizashi sighed. “My advice is no LSD. Villains seem to appear bigger than they are in fact once I accidentally punched a three year old in the-”

 

Aizawa shot him a look. “Medical drugs, Yamada. Morphine.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Apparently the third years ran into some trouble in downtown Tokyo on their placements,” Aizawa explained. “Riots or something but there were quite a few injuries so Recovery Girl is maxed out. Midoriya here only has a black eye and some broken ribs so he’ll survive the night.” 

 

“Probably in his own bed.” Hizashi hinted. 

 

“Save me the grief Yamada, you’re waking up in five hours, take the sofa. I’d rather make sure Midoriya is okay then appease you all evening.” Aizawa shot back. 

 

Hizashi pouted but gave in, reaching into his bag and pulling out his hair brush. “What were the riots about?” 

 

“There’s murders going on in rural areas on Shinjuku.” Aizawa replied.

 

“Villains?”

 

“Asian hate crimes? Sex crimes? Both I think,” Aizawa sighed, looking over at Midoriya who was already breathing softly, eyes closed. “Definitely something that should have been eradicated years ago.”

 

“What’s next?” Hizashi asked to the room. “They eradicate protesting.” 

 

Aizawa grimaced, sitting cross legged on the futon. “It’s happening in some countries.”

 

“I hate the world.” Hizashi stated. 

 

“Hmm.”

 

“I hate it to the point where I wouldn’t want to bring kids into it, yanno?” Hizashi continued. “Not until somethings done about all the fighting and the global warming. And the bullying. And the animal rights- Some people our age have grandkids. It’s disgusting.” 

 

“Some people our age have stable relationships.” Aizawa pointed out. “Did the coffee brew whilst I was out?”

 

Hizashi nodded. “Relationships, bleh. I could if I wanted to but yanno what? I don’t.”

 

“Uh huh?” Aizawa asked, pouring coffee into a large, weirdly clean, mug. “And who would you choose?” 

 

“You-” There was a split second of a pause. “You know, someone maybe with something to do with the hero culture so I could tell them about what I was working on and such, someone low maintenance though. I’m too busy to devote loads of time to someone.”

 

Aizawa went to sit back down. “You want a cat.”

 

Hizashi shrugged. “They wouldn’t live long enough to see the world fall to shit.” 

 

“Do something about it then if you’re so protective over the world.” 

 

“And what do you do Shota?” Hizashi asked with a smirk. 

 

Aizawa put his coffee down, placing the hand over his chest. “I teach the youth of today, building them up to be-”

 

Hizashi whacked him in the face with a pillow. 

 

“Ow!” Aizawa cried in a whisper, a hand instinctively reaching to protect his coffee. “Be careful of the sleeping child!”

 

Hizashi snorted under his breath, reaching across to grab his pillow. His face brushing against Aizawa’s cheek as he did. 

 

Aizawa slurped coffee in his ear.

 

“Is there anything you wish you’d rioted for?” Hizashi asked, righting himself back on the sofa. 

 

Aizawa stared back at him. “Of course. The banning of heroes not being allowed to have a political agenda, the cults which enable individuals physical quirks to be removed, uh, trans rights, gay rights, the right for heroes to be allowed free coffee.” 

 

“HA.” 

 

Hizashi’s hair was swept downwards now as he continued to brush the hair product out. In the bedside lights it seemed to glow gold. Aizawa watched as the man ran his hands through it, pulling out tangles as he did. A single strand falling to the floor, inches away from the futon. 

 

“Has anyone told you you look like Rapunzel?” Aizawa asked. 

 

“Where did that come from?” Hizashi asked with a slight laugh. 

 

Aizawa shook his head. “Nowhere.” He paused, looking back at Midoriya. “You know, on those student reviews Midoriya didn’t say a bad thing about UA.”

 

“Not, ‘I like the school but it has nearly killed me half a dozen times’, ‘the teachers are great but why does Shota-Sensei have to look half dead all the time’, ‘my classmates are amazing apart from Bakugou who bullied me my entire childhood,’. Nothing like that?” Hizashi asked, amused.

 

Aizawa gulped his coffee. “You would think so.”

 

“Wasn’t that black?” Hizashi asked, pointing at the cup.

 

“I burnt my tastebuds off years ago.” Aizawa replied.

 

“How’s the training going with Hitoshi?” Hizashi asked, pulling out a bag of savoury snacks from his backpack. 

 

“From one traumatic child to another?” Aizawa joked, his eyes narrowing at Hizashi as the man tried to open the snacks as quietly as possible. 

 

“Traumatic for you or traumatic for them?” 

 

“Everyone has trauma.” Aizawa said, his hands going up in mock jazz hands before holding one out. 

 

Hizashi tipped the packet out into his hand. “Isn’t there a song about that?” 

 

“How the fuck would I know?” Aizawa asked mid-mouthful. Hizashi raised one eyebrow and pointed at the bed. Aizawa wafted his free hand. “The boys asleep. Besides, I hear Midoriya swear all the time.”

 

“I thought you would have expelled him for that,” Hizashi mused.

 

“I let the kids swear if they’re in pain.” Aizawa explained. 

 

“Do you think Midoryia cares?”

 

“If he swears?”

 

“If he’s in pain.”

 

“I thought we were talking about Shinsou.” Aizawa said briskly. 

 

“Fine. How’s the training with Shinsou going?” Hizashi asked. 

 

Aizawa thought for a moment. “Good,” he eventually nodded. “Good.”

 

“And this is why I lead our conversations.” Hizashi said, tipping the rest of the snacks into his mouth. 

 

Aizawa’s phone buzzed. He picked it up, squinting at the screen. 

 

Hizashi snorted. “Need glasses?”

 

“No, I haven’t put my eyedrops in yet.” Aizawa said, looking around his room. “Where did I put my first aid kit?” 

 

Another snort from Hizashi. “How should I know?” The blond watched as his best friend got up with a sigh, blinking, before reaching across to his bedside table grabbing his eye drops. “Want me to do your eyes for you?” 

 

Aizawa shrugged and Hizashi beckoned him over, sitting himself up on the far end of the sofa. Aizawa perched himself at the other end and Hizashi found himself sighing, rather pointedly, to get him to relax a bit and lie down. Aizawa’s black hair tumbled into his lap and Hizashi gently combed it outwards with his fingers so it fanned out across his legs. Aizawa seemed to enjoy the sensation, the weight of his head getting heavier on the blond. He composed himself after a moment, handing the eye drops over and patiently staring upwards at his best friend as Hizashi unscrewed the top. 

 

“Why do you need the first aid kit?” He asked as he got the dose. 

 

“Chiyo asked me to check Midoriya’s temperature.”

 

“He’s asleep though.” Hizashi said, singling for Aizawa to hold one eye open.

 

“Still need to do it,” Aizawa said, his pupil shrinking as the blue tinged liquid filled his eye. “It’s just a case of putting the thermometer in his ear for a bit. Shouldn’t stir.”

 

“Next eye.”

 

Aizawa dutifully did as he was told. 

 

“Did you ask him about it?” Hizashi asked. Aizawa was so confused he didn’t notice the next eye drops going in. 

 

“Ask who about what?” he replied.

 

“Midoriya you idiot, about why he didn’t put any criticism on his form.” 

 

Hizashi screwed the lid back on the eye drops bottle, yawning dramatically as he did. Aizawa blinked slowly, waiting for the world to come back into focus before sitting up. Hizashi straightened his hair out across his back but Aizawa reacted by pulling his hairband from his wrist, tying it into a low bun. Hizashi stopped him mid pull, gently taking the ponytail and pulling the loose strands from the elastic. 

 

“You need to be more careful with your hair,” he warned. “It’ll got brittle.”

 

“I’m not going to ask Midoriya about it now,” Aizawa replied, ignoring the comment. Letting Hizashi continue to tie is hair up regardless. “It’s been too long and he’ll think too much into it.”

 

“You care about his feelings. You’re cute.” Hizashi smiled, pulling Aizawa’s hair out into shape, running the strands through his fingertips. 

 

“I just don’t want to be responsible for making him think he did something wrong,” Aizawa replied earnestly. “You done?” He asked, his hand reaching up to check Hizashi’s handiwork. 

 

“I’m done.”

 

Aizawa pulled himself off the sofa, continuing to search for the first aid kit. “The kid thinks half the stuff that happens to him is his fault,” he continued. “He’s probably been thinking he’s in charge of other peoples feelings since his dad moved abroad.”

 

“You think?” Hizashi asked, twirling his own hair between his middle fingers. It wasn’t as thick as Aizawa’s. Didn’t smell as sweet. 

 

“I’m not psychoanalysing my students.” Aizawa huffed. He paused momentarily before his eyes lit up. “I know where it is!” 

 

Hizashi watched as he dived into the bathroom, opening up the cabinet under the sink and prising out the first aid kit. “Aha, the responsible place.” he commented. 

 

“I must have tidied,” Aizawa shrugged, placing the kit on the futon and fishing around for the thermometer. “Okay, let’s do this.”

 

Somewhere in the back of his mind Hizashi was aware that the time was ticking. At this rate, even catching four hours of sleep seemed wistful. It was less than he would have gotten at home. Still, it was comforting being in his best friends room. It reminded him of their time at UA, sleeping round each others houses, chatting until the early hours of the morning. Hizashi hosting his podcast from his room at home. Aizawa would come over, sit on his bed and watch him record, sometimes for hours on end. Hizashi had always wanted to live in dorms and even though UA had only built them for this years students, sometimes just coming over and staying with Aizawa felt as if he was living the student experience all over again. 

 

Shota was brushing Midoriya’s hair back from his ear, pausing as the boy stirred in his sleep, then continuing, tucking it behind and placing the thermometer in one ear.

 

“102.4” 

 

“That’s a temperature.” Hizashi said, uselessly. 

 

Aizawa brushed Midoriya’s hair back across his face, walking back to the futon. “It’s not too high. He’ll be okay.” 

 

“You’re not worried?” Hizashi asked. 

 

Aizawa smiled slyly. “I have proof that he needs to rest. A temperature higher than 100 and I don’t allow students to participate in class. I think I’m the only one that allows students to join class with a fever at all.”

 

“You surprise me.” Hizashi drawled.

 

“They’re passionate,” Aizawa continued. “Besides, if they become real heroes, they’re going to have to do a patrol or two ill. I did a whole weeks worth with a chest infection, last month? Two months ago?”

 

“You shouldn’t have.” Hizashi pointed out, leaning over the sofa to grab his bag. He pulled out an old tshirt, acting as his pyjamas, watching Aizawa brush the comment off. 

 

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” 

 

“You did,” Hizashi pushed. “You just decided you’d be a martyr.” 

 

“Choking bad guys makes me feel better.” 

 

Hizashi looked up, just in time to see Aizawa smirk a little at his own joke. They caught each other mid-smile before Hizashi got up, making his way to the bathroom. 

 

“You wanna shower?” Aizawa asked. 

 

Hizashi thought for a moment. “I was going to but... It’s radio, they can’t smell you.”

 

“That’s code for ‘I can’t be bothered even though I know I smell’,” Aizawa replied. “Shower.” 

 

“Fine. But I’m keeping the bathroom door open ajar.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Cause I want to talk to you.”

 

Aizawa shot his best friend another look. “Fine.” 

 

“So,” Hizashi said. “Back to Midoriya.” 

 

He ran the shower, placing his hand under the water until it got to temperature. Pulling his t-shirt over his head and slinging it onto the floor. Aizawa stared at the top, chucking it into his laundry basket. 

 

“I need that for tomorrow.” Hizashi complained. 

 

“Wear one of mine,” Aizawa replied. “You can’t wear the same thing four days in a row.”

 

“You do.” Hizashi replied, hopping on one foot to get his trousers off before jumping into the shower. 

 

Aizawa inspected his fingernails as he sat down, back against the wall next to his bathroom. “I hold people to a higher standard. Midoriya?”

 

“Midoriya!” Hizashi replied. “You should call him into a meeting, ask him what he wants to fight for.”

 

“What he wants to fight for?” Aizawa reiterated. 

 

“Ask him now, he’s high enough.”

 

“High..? Oh! Bloody hell, he’s asleep,” Aizawa said, looking over. “At least face with your back towards me for God’s sake.” 

 

“I’d have abs if I hadn’t eaten dinner.” Hizashi said.

 

“Sure.”

 

Aizawa averted his gaze, letting Hizashi finish washing beside him. He reached over at one point and grabbed a spare jumper of his, one with holes ripped into the sleeves. He folded it, along with the rest of Hizashi’s clothes and put it on the side for when he got up. 

 

“I think Midoriya would fight for anyone if he thought what they were doing was right,” He said finally. “That’s what’s incredibly infuriating about him.” 

 

“He sees the good, even in you..!” Hizashi sung, turning the water off and reaching for a towel.

 

"That was the worlds shortest most half-assed shower." Aizawa shook his head but there was a definite smile behind his eyes. “Jesus, wrap a towel round yourself,” he continued, getting up and pouring himself another coffee. “I haven’t texted Chiyo back yet.”

 

“Do you need to check his temperature again?” Hizashi asked, hopping back into the room to pick up his toothbrush. 

 

Aizawa looked over. “He’s out of it. It’ll be okay.” 

 

Hizashi nodded but didn’t say anything else, the two continuing to get ready for bed in comfortable silence. 

 

Across the room, Midoryia opened one eye slightly, closing it again so neither teacher noticed he was awake. The painkillers were kicking in now, a comfortable haze crossing his vision. He was just grateful for UA.

 

Nothing more, nothing less.

 

Chapter 60: Concussion

Summary:

Aizawa throws a ball.
I'll be honest, that's the plot.

Notes:

Happy weekend! Sorry this chapter is late. I actually got concussion in real life! I was out with my uni friends and I was heading back when my electric scooter curbed it and I fell off haha. I was wearing a helmet! But I knocked myself out for 40 mins lol. I'm fine now tho!!
Enjoy!!

Shinsou craved the early Wednesday mornings. Usually he was only on a few hours sleep but that suited him just fine. There was nothing more that he’d rather do then wake up at 4am, pull out the iced coffee he’d prepared the night before from the fridge and head outside to the UA training grounds. 

 

Aizawa was almost always there before him, testing out his capture weapon or drinking coffee of his own. Shinsou was never late, always early and he doubted Aizawa had gotten any sleep either. It didn’t matter. The teachers demeanour stayed the same regardless. Shinsou could tell if Aizawa was pleased with him because the wrinkles around his eyes would lift. He could also tell if he was worried because his voice would snap more, he wouldn’t catch onto jokes, not that many of Shinsou’s were successful or funny. He liked the fact he could sort of tell what Aizawa was thinking, or at least what mood he was in. He’d idolised the teacher for so long, getting to be taught by him made him crave to get to know him. If it wasn’t for his ultimate goal, getting into the hero course, he could see his attention getting swayed. 

 

Aizawa was normal today. There didn’t seem to be anything particularly bothering him. Shinsou tried to hide the excited energy that writhed under his skin as he approached. 

 

“Morning.”

 

“Morning.”

 

Always the same phrase every morning without fail. The sun was shining into Shinsou’s eyes so he placed one hand over the top, smiling slightly. Aizawa raised an eyebrow in response. A good sign.

 

“We’re going to work on capturing with the scarf and being able to hold strong whilst doing so.” Aizawa explained, downing the rest of his coffee and throwing it, with perfect aim, into the trash can. 

 

“Nice throw.” Shinsou commented but it didn’t reward a reply.

 

“When you’re done with yours-” Aizawa motioned to Shinsou’s own drink. “-come over here.”

 

He walked into the centre of the training ground, stretching one arm before unraveling the capture weapon in his hands. He held it taught for a moment, letting the fabric seize underneath his hands, before throwing it over one shoulder and around his neck once more. Shinsou nearly forgot what he was doing but soon remembered, fumbling with his reusable coffee cup and flexing his hands. 

 

He grabbed his own capture weapon out of his backpack. It wasn’t as frayed as Aizawa’s and much whiter save a few scuffs and marks as well as dried blood from previous mistakes. He tried to make it taut in his hands but he couldn’t quite get it to work. Either he wasn’t pulling hard enough or he was pulling too much, he couldn’t remember. 

 

“Ready?” Aizawa asked as he approached. “I’m only going to show you once, so pay attention.”

 

“I can’t make it solid.” Shinsou tried to explain, holding his palms out for Aizawa to see. This time the hero teacher raised his eyebrow in a way that looked decidedly less amused. 

 

Regardless, he took the capture weapon from Shinsou’s hands and ran it across his palms. “Use the difference between the states of movement to make it work.” He let it hand between both hands before quickly picking it up, the shock of movement causing it to tense in place. 

 

Once the weapon had returned to normal, he handed it back. 

 

Shinsou tried it and naturally it worked. He nodded, trying to absorb as much information as he could from the movements. He could feels Aizawa’s stare on him for a moment but he soon walked away. 

 

“Try grabbing a hold of the goal post over there,” he shouted. “Grab it and don’t move from your position.”

 

Shinsou nodded before catching himself. “Yes Sensei!” 

 

He looked down at his feet, trying to fix his stance. The heaviness behind his eyes was finally beginning to make an appearance but he blinked it away. Focused on being strong. A pillar that his capture weapon could be supported from. He imagined tree roots growing from his feet as he stood, wrapping his capture weapon loosely around his neck, grabbing it with one hand. 

 

Exhaling deeply he launched the fabric with a flick of his wrist, propelling it forward. The sound of it tightening against the wind made a whip like sound as it unravelled from around him. Shinsou watched it approach the goal post, making sure it was exactly the right length away from it before jolting the weapon back. 

 

As it hit the goal post it snapped, wrapping tightly around the pole and pulling Shinsou towards it. He held his ground, his hands creating friction around the weapon, white pain shooting across his palms. He gritted his teeth until it was over, finally feeling the tension release. 

 

He let go of the weapon as Aizawa came forward, looking down at his feet and pointing. “You dug into the ground.” he remarked. 

 

Shinsou looked down and sure enough there were indents where his feet had been planted. 

 

“Do that on concrete and you’d be on the floor.” Aizawa continued. “Also, don’t let go of the capture weapon after you’ve captured something. I don’t care how much your palms are burning.”

 

“Yes Sensei.” 

 

Shinsou didn’t think he hid the annoyance in his voice but Aizawa didn’t seem to notice. 

 

“Again!” 

 

The next time, Shinsou believed he did it perfectly. Aizawa was less sure. 

 

“I can’t tell if you dug your heels in or not.” 

 

“I didn’t move position,” Shinsou protested. “These are old marks.”

 

“Stand somewhere different.” Aizawa replied. 

 

“I was stood here because it was the optimal position.” Shinsou said quietly.

 

“What happens if someone’s standing there?” Aizawa said. “From now on, every time you throw your capture weapon, you stand in a new position.” 

 

He didn’t know what response he expected from Aizawa. It wasn’t going to be a positive one. It was going to be the logical one. 

 

The next time Shinsou threw his weapon, he held it lighter in his hands. As it grasped onto to the goal post it almost threw his shoulder out with the effort. He had to step forwards in an attempt to rebalance himself. He managed however, fixing his position and standing straight. 

 

To his amazement, Aizawa nodded. He came towards Shinsou, looking at his feet. “Well done.”

 

Shinsou looked at him with surprise. Aizawa raised one eyebrow. “What?”

 

“I stepped forward.” Shinsou said. 

 

“I never said you couldn’t.”

 

Shinsou couldn’t help the next remark that came out of his mouth. “What if someone was directly in front of me?”

 

Aizawa fixed him with a stare. “You wouldn’t throw your capture weapon straight in front of you if someone was there.”

 

He managed it successfully the next three times. Every time he looked over to Aizawa for approval but the 1A teacher barely gave anything away. He didn’t comment either however which Shinsou took as a good sign. 

 

“I’m going to throw objects in the air,” Aizawa said after another successful throw. “I want you to be able to capture them and pull them towards you.”

 

Shinsou nodded, fixing his stance again. Aizawa walked over to the gate and pulled a giant crate back with him full of basketballs. 

 

The first one Aizawa threw, Shinsou missed. 

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Aizawa called. “Just shake it off and try again.”

 

He missed the second and the third. 

 

“The sun’s in my eyes!” He protested, his capture weapon grazing the last ball as it flew several meters away from him. 

 

Aizawa aimed for another throw. “The sun’s not going anywhere for your benefit.”

 

Shinsou sighed, annoyed. He tried to shake it off before covering his eyes with his spare hand, blocking out the sunrise. He watched out of his peripheral vision as Aizawa lined up the shot, mentally preparing for where the arch would land. As Aizawa pulled back, Shinsou removed his hand, grabbing the capture weapon with both hands and preparing to force it forwards. He waited three seconds before-

 

“Shinsou? Hitoshi?!”

 

Weirdly the gate surrounding the training field had vanished, left in its place blue blue sky of the spring sunrise. Shinsou felt oddly weighted, as if something was behind him. 

 

“Don’t sit up.” Aizawa said, confusing him even more. 

 

“Wha-?” Was the only sound that seemed to come from his mouth. He tried to look around but his right eye throbbed. 

 

“Can you see me?” Aizawa’s voice asked from somewhere beside him. Suddenly the sunlight was gone, replaced by a figure with black hair. 

 

“There’s three of you.” Shinsou remarked. Three eyebrows rose in an emotion Shinsou didn’t have the energy to figure out. 

 

“Recovery Girl won’t be here until 7am,” Aizawa continued from all over the place. “Do you want to wait until then or do you want to go to hospital?” 

 

Hospital..? “What happened?” Shinsou asked again, this time with far too many syllables but with much more clarity than before. 

 

“You hit yourself on the temple with the ball,” Aizawa explained. “It was probably going around 25kph so as much as I’m impressed with the catch, you probably have concussion.”

 

“I don’t remember…” Shinsou replied, laughing slightly even though it hurt to. He could feel tears prick behind his eyes but he blinked them away fast. 

 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Aizawa asked, pulling off his jumper and laying it over Shinsou. He felt embarrassed by his teachers actions for a moment before realising he was shivering. 

 

“I remember you telling me that the sun wasn’t going away.” Shinsou replied. 

 

“Alright. Hospital.” Aizawa said with a sigh. Shinsou felt as if there was a pit inside his stomach. 

 

“I’m fine,” he protested. “I don’t want to put you out.” 

 

Aizawa rolled his eyes slightly which made Shinsou’s stomach tighten even more. “Me telling you the sun wasn’t going anywhere was about twenty minutes ago.” 

 

“I’m fine.”

 

Aizawa took no notice of his pathetic protesting. “You’re going to sit up slowly, okay?” 

 

Shinsou attempted to nod but eventually gave up. He lifted his hands up to push himself off the grass, letting out a low hiss as his right shoulder moved. 

 

“Did you hurt it?” Aizawa asked. 

 

“I don’t know, I’m fine, it’s fine.” Shinsou replied, forcing himself up into a sitting position. He couldn’t tell if his shoulder was hurting or if he just moved it funny. 

 

“If I hear you say the words ‘I’m fine’ one more time, so help me.” Aizawa said lowly. 

 

Shinsou looked up at his mentor, a smile creeping across his lips before letting out a short laugh that seemed to overtake him. 

 

Aizawa looked confused as Shinsou kept on laughing. “What?” 

 

There were tears pricking behind his eyes, at first he thought they were to do with his laughter, but the wave of emotion that followed caused him to gasp. There were tears running down his face, he tried to brush them off but it was as if he’d sprung a leak. Aizawa’s face mellowed, reaching out his hand, before realising it was offering to his bad arm, switching it. 

 

“Sorry.” Shinsou said, his breath catching in his throat, despite the fact he was trying to sound as ‘put together’ as possible. 

 

“You’re in shock.” Aizawa put plainly, his voice softer than the teenager expected. Shinsou blinked at the reply. 

 

“A ball hit my head.”

 

“A ball hit your head.” Aizawa repeated back at him. 

 

“It didn’t even hit me hard.”

 

“We’ll get you a helmet.” Aizawa joked, pulling him up. 

 

As soon as Shinsou rose to full height the world started to grow bright around him, the grass glowing a florescent green against a multicoloured sky.  

 

“You okay?” Aizawa asked, his voice splitting in Shinsou’s head. 

 

He blinked quickly. “Yes.”

 

Aizawa looked unconvinced. If he was being honest, Shinsou felt unconvinced. He flexed his hands, as if to give himself balance. 

 

It didn’t work.

 

He was swaying. 

 

— 

 

“Your CT came back normal. As did your X-ray. I would imagine you strained your shoulder, bending it the wrong way on your fall. You should be fine in a week or so but rest it for now.”

 

Shinsou let the monotone of the doctors voice wash over him. He didn’t really feel anything but a throbbing in his head and the heat of embarrassment across his cheeks. He looked up from where he was sitting in the consultant room but Aizawa was on the other side, peering at some poster of All Might advertising for a plaster brand. 

 

“I would imagine there’s some concussion but you say you got hit in the head with a ball? A basketball?” 

 

Shinsou nodded. 

 

“Really with the injury you’re looking at it would have been travelling at at least 75kph. I mean we’re talking fast.”

 

Shinsou shrugged. 

 

“I see on your file, you go to UA in the general studies course. But it says here your injury was caused by training.”

 

Shinsou fixed the doctor with a stare. “I was meant to catch it.”

 

The doctor pulled their glasses down their nose. “Did someone throw this at you Shinsou?”

 

Shinsou had never seen Aizawa turn around faster. Fixing him with a stare, a faint rosiness to his cheeks. 

 

“Er.. no. It was a machine.” Shinsou replied carefully, trying not to look his teachers way. He could see Aizawa out of the corner of his eyes, raising one eyebrow expectantly. “Faulty machinery.”

 

“It’s been taken care of,” Aizawa cut in. “We’re going to test the rest of the… machines… out today.”

 

“It’s almost a good thing you didn’t catch it!” the doctor joked. “You would have broken more than a few fingers!” 

 

He looked at Aizawa. “Now we have the all clear from the CT, he’s allowed to get fixed up at your schools infirmary?”

 

Aizawa nodded.

 

“Right, well I won’t prescribe you any painkillers here then. Hell of a incident form to fill out, eh!”

 

Shinsou held back a laugh as Aizawa smiled, his face morphing into something that resembled a torture victim. “Ah! Yes! But as a general studies teacher I love… generally studying.”

 

Shinsou did laugh as they left the hospital A&E department. Aizawa fixed him with a murderous stare. 

 

“Shut up or I won’t let you get yourself fixed up at school.”

 

Shinsou did stop laughing but there was a smile that he couldn’t quite shake no matter how much his head hurt. He liked Aizawa. 

 

He really wanted him to be his teacher. 

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 4 of The Reluctant Dadzawa of Class 1A