Chapter Text
Izuku was a good kid. His homeroom teacher would admit it. Sure the kid could be reckless, partially because of his age and undoubtedly related to his admiration to All Might, the epitome of reckless glory. Still, recklessness can be soothed, provided there is proper guidance and training, into something more productive. Much of it stemmed from Izuku’s good nature and a desperate need to make things right, because he was, after all, kindness at the core. It dictated his actions. Izuku was always the first to cheer on his classmates. He saw the best in people, often before they could find it themselves, and sought to bring it out, even if by doing so did not necessarily benefit himself during class exercises. Inside the classroom, Izuku was little trouble. He was a good student; eager to learn and a diligent note taker. His method delicately balanced between thorough and obsession, and Aizawa could not determine which side it would fall on. Rarely did the kid ever turn in assignments late or unfinished. That’s why when Izuku’s schoolwork slipped, Aizawa started a collection of notes of his own.
The first couple of incomplete assignments barely made it on the radar. Through his several years of experience as a teacher, Aizawa dealt with this issue from even the best of students. On some day's school work just becomes lost amongst other teenage priorities. It could easily be chalked up to kids being kids. Then the poor work became more consistent, as did the times when Aizawa had to call him out for nodding off to sleep during class. There were mornings when the boy could barely remain awake.
Despite the apparent lack of interest in classwork, Izuku showed an ever growing reluctance to leave UA‘s grounds. Several days out of the week, he would remain on campus well past class. He ambled through the hallway of teachers’ offices, knocking on doors to offer his services to whatever teacher that may need it. Frequently, Aizawa would catch site of Izuku roaming around. Whether it be an adult or peer, the kid was always eager to please, he noted, and an obvious fan-boy. It made sense he would want to learn firsthand from the people he idolized. There was something off about their interactions, though. When he stopped to talk to Izuku, there was an air of restlessness to the boy. Anxiety crackled like static around him.
It was the overall change in Izuku’s personality that Aizawa found most concerning. The kid just wasn’t happy. In a slow and quiet way, he was becoming withdrawn, even when amongst his closest friends. Izuku had a natural, excessively emotional side that often manifested into nervousness. With each passing day these traits appeared to progress for the worst. Even in the milder moments when Aizawa would reprimand him for foolish mistakes it would bring tears his student to tears. The boy would quickly blink them away before they escaped, but he wasn’t always able to hide them successfully. With each passing week Izuku smiled less. He seemed too tired to even try.
Another school day was just beginning. Izuku sat at his desk with his face resting in the palm of his hand. The day was not off to a good start. He left home late, and had barely made it into the building before the first bell rang out. During the rush his uniform became disheveled, and with the short time before class to begin there was no chance to straighten up. His red tie had just about fallen off. Rather than fixing it, Izuku opted to remove it for the time being. In that moment he told himself that he didn’t care. It was only a tie, after all. Already Izuku was falling asleep. As he continued on with the lecture, Aizawa kept a watchful eye on the green-haired boy, waiting for the right moment to strike. Slowly, as he drifted closer into a full sleep, Izuku lost balance. The collar of his shirt shifted as his body slumped over to the side. It revealed the top of a purple, circular mark near the base of neck. The mark looked like some type of bruise, or perhaps even a hickey. There was something about it that Aizawa found unsettling. It shouldn’t have been; not that much. His students were teenagers, and while Izuku appeared more innocent than some of his other classmates, it would not be entirely odd for him to be in some relationship. But the kid - all of them - seemed so damn young for those types of things. Aizawa took a moment to mull over some possibilities. It was an unspoken truth amongst Class 1-A that Izuku was sweet on Uraraka and vice versa. But the pair’s dynamic had not changed, or at least not that Aizawa observed, that would imply that they had become involved in a more serious type of relationship. It could have been a student from another school. Surely Izuku had friends at his old school. A relationship could explain some of the teenage moodiness and lack of interest in studies. It would also explain the excessive amount of text notifications that would bing off from Izuku’s phone in the middle of class if he forgot to put it on silent. There had been several occasions where Aizawa threatened to take the phone away. Embarrassed, Izuku would apologize and promptly shut off his phone. As soon as class was over, it would be right back on with boy desperately scrolling through messages.
“Midoriya.”
Izuku snapped to attention at the sound of his name. Quickly, he sat up and straightened his collar.
“Do you find my lessons boring?”
“N-no, Sir,” Izuku replied. He twitched with emotion. He kept his eyes locked on his teacher, too afraid to look at any of his classmates out of fear of one of them catching the tears that were forming. Izuku could feel them watching, and could not risk further embarrassing himself by revealing he was once again crying. It couldn’t be helped; it just happened.
For a moment Aizawa regretted the harshness of his tone. The kid looked like a mess. Still, it was his job. “Try a little harder to stay awake then.”
Izuku remained awake for the rest of class. His eyes fixed straight ahead on Mr. Aizawa. It was difficult to maintain focus, and as much as he tried, Izuku could not get his brain to settle for more than a minute at a time. School was the one thing he looked forward to, and here he was wasting the opportunity that he had worked so hard to get a hold of. Agitated, Izuku chewed on the end of his end of his pencil. A trail of spittle followed as he moved to jot down a few half-hearted notes. As he looked up from the paper, he made eye contact with Aizawa. Izuku was sure that his teacher did not like him very well. He was the “problem child”, and while he often used the nickname as fuel to prove his worth, there were some days when it stung. Izuku considered Aizawa to be a great hero and maybe even better teacher. The coursework was strict with the teacher being just as rigid, but he knew that the pro-hero meant the best, because he only wanted his students to be their best. As lame as it sounded, Izuku felt the need to be liked by not only his homeroom teacher, but all of his teachers. At his old school he felt like he was nothing more than just another nameless body in a uniform. For one reason or another, he seemed to struggle to make real friends. Most kids considered him to be weird. It didn’t help that Kacchan reiterated that thought daily.
UA changed things. Finally, Izuku felt like he was amongst not only like-minded people, but classmates that seemed to genuinely enjoy being around him. This turn in his life helped pave over that old sense of loneliness. It was new, but not yet solid; all it could take was just one look to bring him right back to where he was.
Once the bell rang, Izuku grabbed his notebook and hurriedly walked over to the back of the room where Ochako and Iida were waiting for him. They were already deep into a conversation about what would be covered in their upcoming history class. Izuku smiled, but didn’t put forth the effort of adding to the conversation. He wasn’t in the mood to discuss tests, let alone think about one that felt so far ahead. As they crossed through the doorway, he glanced back into the classroom. Aizawa was watching him. Izuku bit the inside of his bottom lip. He hesitated for a second, expecting his teacher to reprimand him again. The irritation from earlier had disappeared. His expression was its usual cool, although Izuku saw a glimmer of something more beneath it. It was nearly forgotten as the trio exited into the hallway swarming with students.
Rarely Aizawa bothered to engage in small talk with All Might. General small talk was something he tried to avoid all together. However, he could no longer shake his curiosity around his student’s mood changes. All Might would be the best source of information. It was obvious since day one that he had a soft spot for Midoriya. Aizawa could see the connection; while Izuku lacked the natural charisma his idol so famously possessed, the two shared the same deeply rooted passion for justice. They were a good team. If anyone knew what was going on with the kid, it would be All Might.
Nearly half of the school day had passed by before Aizawa could track down the number one hero without him being surrounded by a group of adoring students. He found All Might in the teacher’s lounge, typing away at his laptop. An email alert sounded off in All Might’s voice, and Aizawa couldn’t bother to hold back an eye roll. Could the man be any more egotistical? All Might greeted him, grinning brightly, as Aizawa pulled out a chair across from him. Aizawa gave a vague reply before cutting right to the point. “What is wrong with Midoriya?”
“Young Midoriya?” All Might frowned. He had passed his protégé in the hallway just an hour ago. Izuku was with his friends, smiling, like nearly every day. Had he missed something, All Might wondered. “Why? Did something happen today?”
“He fell asleep during class.”
“Oh! Is that all?” All Might relaxed until he noticed his colleague’s scowl. Aizawa - always so serious. “Well, you know with all the training these kids do, they’re pushing their limits. His body is still adjusting.”
“This isn’t the first time it has happened,” Aizawa said. “It’s becoming a habit, as is decreasing quality of work. You two seem to get along well. Has he said anything to you about what may be the cause of this?”
All Might pondered it over. “No, not really,” he replied. “But now that you mention it, I think you may be right. He seems a bit off this last week.”
“Has he said anything about Bakugo? I haven’t noticed those two going at it more than usual, but I only see them part of the day.”
“Not that he’s said. He rarely mentions Bakugo, or anyone negatively for that matter. Oh!” All Might hit the desk as the thought struck him. “Awhile ago, a few weeks back, I believe, Young Midoriya mentioned something about his mother.”
Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “What about her?”
“Not too much, really. She hasn’t been around the house as often. It sounded like she was busier than usual at her job,” All Might said. Aizawa felt more at ease. It was a reasonable explanation. The kid was close with his mother; that much was clear. Naturally, the absence of a parent could cause some alternation for a child. Then, All Might continued. “It appears she has been becoming more serious with her boyfriend. Young Midoriya didn’t seem too happy about that. I found it kind of surprising considering the man is a pro hero, and the boy just about loses his mind in the presence of one. Takashi Bakken. He’s a good, old friend of mine actually. Bakken filters in and out of the hero and entertainment industry. His werewolf quirk has gotten him roles in some horror movies. I hate to say it considering I am a friend, but his acting isn't all that great!”
“Fascinating.”
“Great guy though,” All Might said, waving off Aizawa’s sarcastic tone. “But from what I gathered Young Midoriya was not entirely too fond of him spending more time at their home lately. I think he’s still pretty broken up over his parents’ split.”
“Is that what he told you?”
“Yeah, kind of. He mentioned something about Bakken stopping by more often. But you know, it’s hard for kids to let new people into their lives like that, especially since it’s been years since he’s had a male authority figure in the house. It’s a whole change of dynamics. Not that I can imagine Bakken giving him too much trouble. He’s a laid-back guy.”
He had not met this hero, but Aizawa was already not fond of him. Heroes gone actors were insufferable, in his opinion, even if they had All Might's stamp of approval. It was time to change the subject. “What does Midoriya’s mother do?”
“I can’t remember,” All Might said with a shrug. “Maybe something in the nursing field? She works a lot of later nights, or at least she used to. Bakken has been trying to help her out with finances and watching the place while she’s gone. Young Midoriya said she has been pretty much been doing it all on her own. Sure, his father sends money when he can, but it takes a lot to raise a child. It has to be stressful.”
Aizawa stared blankly. The late nights, the new, unwelcomed boyfriend; he couldn’t help but think of that mark on Izuku’s neck. The possibility of it alone made his blood run cold. It could be a reach. There was no concrete evidence that anything sinister was occurring. The boy’s change in behavior could have been caused by anything, and if All Might said the boyfriend was all right, then surely he was all right. He would never put a child at risk for the sake of an old buddy. Still, Aizawa was not willing to let the boyfriend go. Not yet.
The day felt like it could never end. All that Izuku wanted to do when he got home was take a nap, but there was no way he could afford the luxury with the amount of homework he had left to finish. There was a lengthy paper due in just a few days for Language class, and Izuku had barely made a dent in it. Today they had to turn in rough drafts. Fortunately, Present Mic was one of the more laid back teachers. He waved off what Izuku knew was poor progress as long as the boy promised to have it complete by the final date. Judging by statements made by some of his other classmates, Izuku wasn't alone in it. He would have to get some major work done that night to stay true to his promise.
As he packed up his bag to leave, Izuku thought of how the day started off. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for how disrespectful he must have come off to Mr. Aizawa. It would be best to do a more formal apology. Izuku knew he had not been his best student lately, and an apology would be the least he could do. Plus, he didn’t want Aizawa to be upset with him either. Izuku broke away from his group of friends, and quickly headed down the hall, hoping that Aizawa had not left the classroom yet. On the way there Izuku ran through his apology script. He would keep it short and direct to avoid any other opportunities to annoy his teacher. Once he made it into the doorway, however, his mind went blank. Aizawa was sitting at his desk, with a red pen in hand as he scanned through his students’ papers. He turned his attention towards Izuku and stared. The man seemed irritated already. “Do you need something, Midoriya?”
“I-I,” Izuku started off. The earnest apology he had rehearsed evaporated from his mind. “I wanted to apologize. About this morning.” He became more flustered when Aizawa didn’t reply. “For sleeping, I mean.”
“You were sleeping.”
“It was very disrespectful of me,” the boy went on. “And I won’t let it happen again. I’m really sorry.”
“You seem to be falling asleep a lot lately.”
Was he? Izuku tried to calculate the instances in the past week or so. “Come in here for a minute,” Aizawa said as he marked a paper. “We need to talk.”
After a moment of hesitation, Izuku walked further into the classroom, up to his teacher’s desk. He heaved a quiet sigh through his nose. All he wanted to do was apologize; not get another lecture. The only noise was the sound of the scratch of pen on paper. When he finished, Aizawa placed the red pen down, looked up, and said, “Is everything okay, Midoriya?”
“I’m fine!” The reply came too quick, and the conversation went into an awkward stillness. Aizawa observed his student as he calculated his next step. The nervous static was back. This time it almost felt suffocating.
The silence only broke once Izuku’s phone went off. Its vibrations shattered the quiet. Out of reflex, Izuku reached down to his pocket where the device is located. Aizawa’s eyes flickered down the path of the boy’s hand. Izuku jerked it back. He didn’t want to come off as disrespectful for a second time that day.
“You haven’t been yourself lately,” Aizawa said. He watched closely, looking for any minimal tell in the boy’s behavior. The intensity of the stare made Izuku shrink back.
“Um, I don’t know what you mean, I-I guess.”
“You don’t seem very happy.”
“I’m fine,” Izuku repeated. “I’m kind of overwhelmed by all the school work right now, but that’s okay. I plan on working later so I can catch up.”
Aizawa nodded. “I heard you’ve been having some trouble at home."
Izuku blinked. He tried to remember what he had said about his family lately, and to whom. The only person he could think of was All Might. Had they been talking about him, he wondered. “It’s nothing really,” the boy insisted. His heartbeat picked up. A cold sweat seeped over his palms. “My mom has been working a little more than usual. That’s all.”
“Where does she work?”
“The hospital. Sometimes she has to work nights, but she likes it there. I think.”
“Are you on your own a lot?”
“Sometimes.” Izuku paused for a moment as he tried to gage what his teacher was thinking. Would it be worth elaborating? Aizawa sat there, patiently waiting for Izuku to continue. The papers were left disregarded on the top of the desk. All of his attention on was on Izuku, and the boy couldn’t decide what it meant. For once he didn’t look annoyed. “Sometimes,” Izuku continued, slowly, “her boyfriend will stay with me, like if she works late or something. She has some overnight shifts.”
“How is he?”
“He’s okay.” There was another moment of hesitation. His teacher didn’t push it further, but Izuku could tell he was waiting for something more. Everything inside him - blood, tears, and spit; anything that reminded him he was alive - rushed down from his head, all the way down his throat into the pit of his stomach. It sat there in a tight, heavy ball. It felt as if the only thing left inside of him. Words spun inside Izuku’s head. There was so much he wanted to say, if only he could sort it all out. Word vomit was his specialty, but at that time it failed him. “They’ve been together for maybe a year now. They spend a lot of time together.” Quickly then, the words spilled out in a hurried, jumbled mess. He wasn’t sure if he even said them correctly.
The phone buzzed for a second time. Finally, Izuku broke eye contact. He quietly apologized as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. “I’m so sorry! It’s probably just my mom!” He forced a smile on to his face. “She gets worried if I’m not home right away.” Aizawa watched silently as Izuku read through the messages. The smile remained on the boy’s face, but the short flash of despair in his eyes did not go unnoticed.
“Yup!” Izuku brightly exclaimed as he shoved the phone into his pocket. “Just my mom! I should probably be going.”
Despite his insistence on leaving, Izuku did not move. He lingered at the desk as if he has something else to say. It reminded Aizawa of those days where Izuku remained on school grounds after hours. Even once all of work was finished it could be difficult to push the kid out. There was always that hesitation, as if he doesn’t want to leave quite yet. This time Aizawa didn’t want him to leave either. He could feel that he was close to getting Izuku to reveal something, but he wasn’t sure if it was right to push it. “Um,” Izuku finally said. “I’m sorry, again, for falling asleep during class.”
“It’s forgiven. You should go to bed earlier.”
“Yeah. I will.” Izuku placed a hand over his pocket as the phone buzzed again. “Well, I need to go. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”
The boy turned, and that time he left. Aizawa could only watch. He heard the phone sounding off once more. Izuku reached for his phone and clicked on the home screen. He didn’t bother to open the full message. Just as he was about to reach the door, his teacher called out after him. “Midoriya.” Izuku abruptly stopped and turned around. Aizawa could see tears glittering in his eyes. He sighed; this kid. He motions Izuku over. As the boy walked back to the desk, Aizawa ripped out a piece of scrap paper and wrote a quick note. He handed it to his student. It was against his better judgment to give out personal information such as his phone number, but in this instance he believed he may want to be safe rather than sorry. Izuku stared at it, unsure of what to think. “In case you need anything,” Aizawa said. He kept his eyes on Izuku, who is too afraid to look up.
“I’m fine,” Izuku replied quietly. A tear plopped on to the paper. He took in a deep breath and pulled on another smile as he faced his teacher. “I really am.”
“Sure, kid. But if you ever need anything, I want you to call me. I’ll come and get you. Okay?”
Izuku nodded in response. He didn’t want to say more; it was difficult enough to keep back his emotions. He gave a quiet thank you and headed out off the classroom just as his phone vibrated again. Aizawa watched from his desk. Once Izuku was completely out of sight, he picked up the pen and returned to correcting the papers. As he made another red line, Aizawa wondered what kind of hell did he just send that kid off to.