Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

No one knows where Aizawa gets the idea. Maybe it's been floating in his head all this time. Maybe it's just a byproduct Class 1-A's month long run of bad luck. However the idea is born, after a month from hell, Class 1-A gets an addition to their kitchen.

They should know they're in for a streak of bad luck when at the start of the month the corner store Shinsou and Kaminari are sent to to retrieve movie night snacks from catches a glancing blow from a villain attack and blows up, resulting in Kaminari with a broken leg and second degree burns for Shinsou. Aizawa is one of the first of the UA staff on the scene, joining Shinsou in kneeling next to a pale faced Kaminari.

"Are you all right?" he says to Shinsou.

"I'm fine," Shinsou says in a voice clearly tight with pain, "But Kaminari broke his leg. It looks bad."

Through clenched teeth Kaminari grits out "No, I'm okay, Sensei. Shinsou is the one who got the brunt of the blast."

"I'm fine-There's a bone sticking out of your leg," Shinsou says, glaring down at the blonde even as he lets him crush his hand in a white knuckled grip.

"Leg isn't going anywhere. I saw those burns. Sensei, they're second degree at least-"

"Both of you shut up. Neither of you are fine. Recovery Girl is less than five minutes behind me. She'll take care of you both. What I need from you right now is an accurate assessment of your injuries."

Kaminari reluctantly admits he's pretty sure his other leg, while not as bad off as the first, is probably also broken. Shinsou equally reluctantly admits to his vision swimming and not being sure if it's the pain or a concussion.

It's both. But in Recovery Girl's capable hands both boys are recovered and back in class on a limited training schedule within a week and a half.

...And then three days later Sero, while attempting to help his classmates get their various groceries back to their rooms without having to trudge up the stairs, slips on his balcony and rips his shoulder out of it's socket when he catches himself.

And the first word out of his mouth when Aizawa gets him down is "I'm," followed by "fine." He then chants this as Aizawa lays him down as gently as possible and assesses the damage.

One visit to Recovery Girl, a slight costume adjustment to make sure it can't happen again in a more high risk scenario, and a new dorm rule about using your quirk on the balconies, he really is fine.

Next it's Bakugo and Hagakure, a mere two days later, in a kitchen accident involving a distracted Bakugo, Hagakure being unusually quiet, and a pot of boiling water.

When Aizawa rushes in to see Bakugo holding his scalded hands under the water his eye nearly twitches at the boy's growled "I'm fine. Invisible chick got most of it."

Outside he's met with Hagakure's weak attempt at a cheerful "It's all good, sensei!" as Satou sprays her scalded torso down with the cool hose water. Its one quick trip to recovery girl to fix them both but Recovery Girl can't fix the way Aizawa's eye is starting to twitch every time someone starts a sentence with "I'm."

The class manages to evade their sudden (extra) bad luck for a full six days only to lose their winning streak when Kirishima manages to take a nasty blow to the back of the head without enough warning to harden in time to save himself.

Aizawa is ready to punch a hole in the wall when the heavily concussed boy slurs out "M'okay," multiple times as they load him onto the stretcher and carry him off.

Aizawa's first thought is that it must be the effect of some kind of quirk except that UA has wards against that sort of thing and he's already checked four times to make sure nothing has failed. There's nothing to do but grit his teeth and keep going, waiting out this streak of bad luck with as much caution as he can force on his students. Everyday the bubble wrap gets more and more tempting.

They make it all the way to the end of the month, a full eight days since their last incident, when naturally, naturally, Midoriya jumps into the parade of injured students by doing something as surprisingly mundane as tripping and falling down the stairs.

But he wouldn't be the problem child if he didn't apply his plus ultra attitude to this too by trying to use his quirk to break his fall, failing, and managing to not only break three ribs but pierce a lung as well. Aizawa feels no guilt for cursing a blue streak in front of half the class when the kid wheezes out an "I'm fine, Sensei, I'm-" before he starts to choke. He's not sure if the cursing is because his student is drowning in blood right in front of him or if it's because of that damned word again.

It takes a full week in Recovery Girl's ward before she lets him return to the dorms proper and another half of one before she lets him go back to training. Approximately two days after that Aizawa drags everyone from their rooms to stand around one of the tables in the common room. 

He slams a large plastic jar with a crooked white label on it onto the table, pulls out a black sharpie, and starts writing on it. As soon as he's finished he turns around and presents the jar to the class. "Alright problem class," Aizawa says, holding up the jar so everyone can see the kanji written on the crooked label reading out the definition of the word fine. "I'm at my wits end with you idiots. So. This is the fine jar. Any questions?" Confused students glance from their teacher to their friends and back again. Tsuyu, brave Tsuyu, raises her hand.

"Sensei, do you mean a swear jar? Because with Bakugo-san in the class it's probably not big enough..."

"I'm aware. It's not a swear jar- if we could fit a swear jar big enough to contain Bakugo's mouth in the dorms I would already have one and UA would never need to worry about government funding cuts again. No, this is a "fine" jar. As in, if I catch the words "I'm fine" or any variant coming out of your mouths when you are not fine it's yen in the jar. The less fine you are the more you owe the jar." Iida's hand flies up.

"Sensei! How will we know how much we owe the jar? Will we be provided with a scale?"

"I'll put one on the fridge. any more questions?"

Heads shake.

"Fine, then the jar is going on the kitchen counter. And remember... If I hear those words out of any of your mouths they had better be true."

Chapter Text

The fine jar goes on the counter in the empty space between the microwave and the coffee pot. It's soon joined by a list of fees scribbled out in Aizawa's barely legible handwriting on page he tore out of a notebook. He pins the fee list to the fridge with one of Midoriya's "Fruity UA Heroes!" Magnet set. For this very special job, Aizawa rescues Banana Mic from Actual Mic's newest attempt to hide the frankly hideous magnet where he doesn't have to suffer through remembering it's existence. Aizawa snaps a picture of Banana Mic and it's ridiculous grin to torment Hizashi with. He's got to get his laughs from somewhere and his friend's screaming response to the reminder of his malformed magnet self is as good a place as any.

The list of fines and fees is fairly short. Aizawa’s cramped handwriting takes up maybe a quarter of the page with a few short lines of fees and descriptions outlining them.

“Fine Jar fees:

Claiming to be fine with-

Minor injuries no blood- 5 yen

Minor injuries with blood- 10 yen

Nightmares, insomnia, and trauma induced issues- 25 yen

Injuries requiring a first aid kit but not Recovery Girl- 50 yen

Injuries requiring Recovery Girl’s medical assistance- 100 yen

Injuries that would require a doctor visit/ trip to the hospital without Recovery Girl- 200 yen

Injuries that would require hospitalization without Recovery Girl healing you- 500 yen

Injuries requiring hospitalization- 1000 yen

Pay per injury type.”

Short, blunt, and to the point. Just like the person who wrote it.

By some merciful blessing, class 1-A’s streak of higher than usual bad luck seems to have finally broken- now they’re back to their normal level of bad luck. Which means they manage to go a full five days before the jar claims it’s first victim.And it’s not even one of the usual suspects.

Aizawa sits quietly at one of the tables in the common room. He keeps one eye on Hagakure and Ashido teaching Eri how to braid hair, Yaoyorozu volunteering her long thick mane of hair as a guinea pig, while Jirou sits near her, just watching the chaos. More than a few members of the class are scattered around them, some paying rapt attention and others doing their own thing as they linger near the group.

Heads turn at a bang and a strangled yelp from the kitchen. But only Aizawa is in position to see what’s happened. Satou stands in front of the oven, clutching his hand with his lips drawn tight and his eyes squeezed shut.

“What happened?” Aizawa asks, quickly standing and striding over as Satou grimaces down at the hand he’s clutching to his chest. Satou startles and looks up, guilt overtaking his face.

“Oh, don’t worry, I just slammed my fingers in the oven,” Satou says, flashing a grin at his teacher. Aizawa hums. “How bad is it?”, he asks as he gently grabs Satou's injured hand to check it over. And then Satou speaks the damning words.

“I’m fine.”

Aizawa stills. He raises his eyes from his student’s injured hand to his face. “Right,” Aizawa says, voice flat and as dry as a mouthful of cinnamon. Satou winces, sheepishly ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck with his uninjured hand.

“Bend your fingers,” Aizawa commands.

Satou makes an attempt, face tightening as he does his best to move his injured fingers. Aizawa watches carefully, hands still gently caging the hand in. “Stop.” Satou lets out a tiny breath of relief, happily discontinuing his efforts. “That’s at least two broken fingers, a second degree burn, and four hundred yen for the jar.” Satou blinks, confused for a moment. “Uh…”

Aizawa points to the list held to the fridge by Banana Mic. “Did you think I was joking about the jar? You’re lucky I’m not counting the broken fingers separately.” Satou has the good sense to at least look cowed. “Sorry, Sensei,” he says. Aizawa huffs. “Just don’t do it again,”  Aizawa points to the door “Go see Recovery Girl and when you get back put the money in the jar.”

“Yes sir. Um…”

Aizawa raises an eyebrow.

“Can you, uh, take my cookies out once they’re done?”

Aizawa blinks slowly. “...Sure.”

“Thanks, sensei!” Satou says, rushing to follow Aizawa’s pointing finger out the door like he's worried Aizawa will change his mind and make Satou dump his whole life savings into the jar while the cookies burn.

The gaggle of students surrounding his youngest charge watch Satou go. As soon as the door slams shut behind him they burst out into whispers and chatter. Aizawa ignores them. Might as well make coffee if I have to hang out in the kitchen. With that thought in mind he shuffles about setting the coffee pot up.

“Um,” comes Eri’s shy voice. “Sir?” Aizawa takes his eyes off the thin trickle dribbling into the bottom of the pot “Yes?”

“Whats the fine jar?”

It’s Hagakure who answers her. “Sensei put a jar in the kitchen and now every time someone says they’re fine when they aren’t actually fine they have to put money in the jar!”

“Oh.” she pauses, habitually blank face still for a moment. Aizawa peaks at the cookies in the oven, a wave of apple and cinnamon washing over his face. He huffs again. Of course. His students have been obsessed with everything apple since learning they’re Eri’s favorite. Of course Satou tried to put off getting his hand treated to make sure they came out okay.

“Um, why do you have to do that?” Eri asks.

“Because…um… because…” Hagakure flounders.

 Aizawa comes to her rescue. “Because it makes you more aware of what you're doing, how often you do it, and losing money makes you not want to keep doing it,” he says as he pulls out a pair of oven mitts.

“Oh.” Eri shifts, fiddling with the chunk of Yaoyorozu’s hair she’s mangling into a braid.

Another pause. Aizawa checks the cookies, deems them done, and lays the tray of hot cookies on the counter.

“Does that mean Aizawa-san has to do it too?” Aizawa freezes. The class falls into a hush. Truthfully, he hasn’t considered it. The room breaks into noise, students yelling over each other to voice their approval.

“Sensei she’s right! If we have to do it so do you! It’s only fair!” Ashido says, voice rising over the noise.

“Lead by example, Sensei!” Hagakure yells right after.

Jirou is doubled over laughing, holding onto Yaoyorozu for support, who in turn has a hand pressed over her mouth as if to muffle in her own dainty giggles. Kirishima shouts his support for the idea so enthusiastically he tumbles over the back of his chair.

The noise grows and grows. Aizawa pours his coffee, regretting everything, and turns to the gathered students. A hush falls over them as they await his ruling. Even though there’s only one thing he really can say that won’t result in a noisy riot he has neither the energy nor the desire to quell.

“Sure, why not?” he says with a shrug. Not like it’s really going to affect anything. A cheer rises up.

“Way to go, Eri-chan!” Kaminari shouts.

“Princess of fairness and equality for all!” Sero proclaims. A chant of Fairness Princess rises from the students, making Eri blush and duck her head. But a careful peak lets Aizawa see the small smile on her face from here so he lets them continue. Aizawa shakes his head and goes back to his papers.

The jar claims another victim before Satou even makes it back to the dorms. Iida returns from a run, legs and arms bleeding from a myriad of small scrapes, and comes into the kitchen to refill his water bottle.

Aizawa, busy fixing himself a second cup of coffee, glances over at his student’s unusually ruffled appearance and frowns. “Iida. You’re bleeding.”

“Oh I’m fine, Sensei! I just…” he trails off as Aizawa reaches over onto the counter, picks up the jar, and thrusts it at him with a stern “Jar.”

Iida pauses, confused for a moment before it clicks, and then he gasps, horrified with himself. “I’m deeply sorry, Sensei,” Iida says with an apologetic bow as he takes the jar.

From the common room, where several of the students are distracting themselves from studying with a mini Eri princess fashion show courtesy of Yaoyorozu and her quirk, there comes a loud, overly dramatic, gasp.

Sero, hanging over the back of a couch, points at Iida with an expression of faux horror on his face. Iida stands frozen in front of the fee list with the jar in his hands.

“Class Prez broke a rule!” he cries.

Tokoyami, reading through some enormous and ominous looking book, narrows his eyes. “The Natural Order has been twisted. Darkness descends upon us…” Iida sputters at them.

Hagakure strikes a dramatic pose “Only the Fairness Princess can save him now!” Aizawa huffs a soft sound that absolutely isn’t a laugh as he reaches under the sink for the kitchen’s first aid kit.

Kirishima gently picks Eri up and raises her over his head. “Let's go Fairness Princess!” he cries as he runs forward with her held aloft to plant himself in front of Iida in a dramatic stance. “Go Fairness Princess! Use your healing touch!” he cries. Iida huffs and puffs, flustered, but obligingly leans close enough for Eri to reach him. Eri, baffled but entertained, hesitantly reaches out and carefully pats Iida’s hair.

“I am cured,” Iida says as he stands upright again. The students cheer. Aizawa rolls his eyes, placing the first aid kit on the counter next to the jar’s regular home.

“Put your fee in and get yourself cleaned up,” Aizawa says, receiving a vibrant “Yes, Sensei!” from Iida.

 Iida goes back to consulting the fee list as Kirishima plants Eri on his shoulders and rushes her back over to the group. It startles a quiet laugh from her which in turn prompts the students to stampede out the door so they can run around the courtyard with Eri, and occasionally each other, on their shoulders.

In the sudden peace of the now empty common room, the sounds of his students whooping and yelling interspaced with laughter muffled behind walls and windows, Aizawa lifts his coffee to his lips. He takes a moment to close his eyes, breathe, and settle.

There’s a quiet clink as Iida adds his fee into the jar. “I’ll go assist Yaoyorozu-san with ensuring the class doesn’t become too rough or overwhelm Eri,” he says.

“First aid first,” Aizawa says, refocusing on the ungraded papers in front of him.

"Yes, Sensei!" Iida says, immediately reaching for the first aid kit. Aizawa makes another red mark on an unfortunate student's paper as Iida sits down at the table.

He glances up at the quiet click of the tweezers and finds Iida trying and failing to dig gravel out of his arms. Silently, Aizawa sets the papers aside and moves over. "Give it here," he says. Iida looks up, surprised and a little guilty.

"Oh! Sensei, not to worry I can-" Aizawa waves his protests off.

"It'll go faster if someone else does it." And then, because he knows how Iida's mind works, he adds "And I'd prefer you get outside to help Yaoyorozu wrangle your classmates as soon as possible." It works like a charm, Iida's face lightening.

"Oh! Of course, Sensei!"

For a long few minutes there's only the quiet click of the tweezers and the muffled tap of bits of gravel dropping onto the paper towel laid over the wood tabletop set to the background noise of the faint shrieks and chatter of the students running around outside. The only words are Aizawa's quiet command to switch from arm to leg to leg to arm.

It doesn't take long for Aizawa to finish and soon he's squinting at Iida's scraped up limbs before deeming them gravel free. He sits back to pull the first aid kit closer. He hands Iida the antibiotic cream as he digs through the plasters for appropriately sized ones. As Iida methodically smears perfectly even layers of cream on his scrapes Aizawa glares at the first aid kit, disgruntled at its lack of large enough plasters. "You handle that, I'll go find something to put on the larger scrapes," Aizawa says as he stands to hunt down some larger plasters.

"There's no need, really, they're only scrapes," Iida rushes to say.

"UA can afford a few bandages, Iida, and it can't hurt," Aizawa says, continuing on with his hunt.

When he returns Iida is dutifully waiting at the table, neat spots of white cream run pink in some places on all of his scrapes. He's even managed to bandage his smaller scrapes, leaving just the ones too large to handle with the plasters in the kit. 

Aizawa drops into a chair and starts tearing open one of the giant plasters. Iida opens his mouth, no doubt to protest. Aizawa gets there before Iida can get a word out. "I'm not going to sit here and watch you struggle." Iida closes his mouth. Aizawa makes quick work of tearing the packages open and sticking the plasters over what injuries are still uncovered.

He sits back and evaluates his work. "That's that then. Go join your classmates, I'll clean up." This, of course, sparks a whole new round of protests. He lets Iida have this one, bundling up the plaster trash inside the gravel covered paper towel and throwing it away as Iida sanitizes the tweezers and table before packing everything away.

Iida hovers, somehow managing to make his bulk look small and awkward. Aizawa ignores it, dropping back into his seat and resuming his grading.

"Thank you, sensei," Iida blurts out.

"...don't worry about it."

Iida nods and power walks toward the door. The noise level rises for a brief moment as Iida exits, his voice cutting through the racket as he starts 'bringing his class in line' which looks a whole lot like joining the fun.

It’s not long after that before Satou returns, yawning but healed, and adds his quartet of 100 yen coins to keep Iida’s ten yen company. He heads outside to join the rest of his classmates with a plate of cookies in tow. And if a couple cookies end up on a napkin that finds a home next to Aizawa's elbow? Well, that's fine.

By some miracle the class manages to come out the other side of their impromptu piggyback competition without any more money ending up in the jar. Naturally this means something has to go mildly wrong in response. So Aizawa isn't really surprised that three more students fall prey to the jar in what ends up nicknamed The Ashido Disaster.

It starts after dinner with Ojiro, when Ashido accidentally shuts the end of his tail in the door and he insists he's okay despite the dark bruises blooming on his tail. Ojiro is rapidly followed by Ashido herself when she slips on the freshly mopped kitchen floor while running to get Ojiro some ice and yells that she's "totally good!" even though the back of her hair is turning distinctly more red than pink. And then finally Aoyama, who just finished mopping the floor, receives a bloody nose from Ashido’s flailing limbs and then tries to say it's "nothing to worry about!"

Aizawa sighs, closing his eyes against a sudden headache of mysterious origin, and makes himself more coffee as the trio of shame faced and freshly healed students shuffle to the jar and make their offerings, Ashido whining because her potential head injury gave her the highest fine of all.

Chapter Text

As though the Ashido disaster is the crack that breaks the dam, it all goes rapidly downhill from there. Within three days there’s not a single member of the class who hasn’t fallen victim to the jar for trying to brush off some bump, bruise, or scrape. With repeat offenders, of course. (Midoriya.)

What, exactly, he’ll have them do with the money once the jar is full is something he hasn’t quite figured out yet. Maybe he’ll set the class loose on the snack isle of some poor unsuspecting convenience store. But then that might provide too much incentive to fill the jar. He wants to say they’d realize exactly how bad of an idea that is but, well, this class has done stupider things. He swears that the more of them that get involved in something the stupider and more reckless it becomes. Like proximity causes their separate urges for self sacrifice and general teenaged stupidity to merge into a singular headache causing monster. Which is why he should have guessed something will go horribly wrong with the grocery delivery eventually.

Every two weeks UA gets an absurdly massive grocery delivery- well, actually. It might be massive but it’s not very absurd when you realize it has to feed nearly seven hundred teenagers- roughly a hundred and twenty of which participate in massive amounts of high energy activity every day on top of their general teenager appetites. Plus a large chunk of faculty members that also engage in daily high energy activities who now reside on campus to teach, watch over, and care for said teens. And that many of those people have some kind of specialized dietary needs. Then it starts to look fairly modest. Each dorm gets its own truck, which drives right up to their dorm. But from there it’s up to the students to unload the boxed up groceries from the trucks, carry them into the dorms, unpack them, and sort them where they need to go.

Aizawa can admit he’s slightly proud of how his students tackle their deliveries. They’ve got everything down to an art form, working smoothly together to get the job done as painlessly as possible. He thinks about those skills being applied to things like raids and thinks maybe he can have some small nugget of hope for the future.

Yaoyorozu keeps watch over the inside operations while Iida makes sure things run smoothly outside. The rest of the class splits into three teams. The unloaders carry boxes from the truck up the steps. Then the carrying team takes the boxes to the kitchen so the unpacking team can unpack and put away. And Aizawa gets to sit back, relax, and 'supervise.'

Most of the more physically inclined students- like Midoriya, Shoji, and Kirishima- work on the unloading. Bakugo, for all of his muscles, is barred from being on any team Midoriya is also on. Plus if he’s not the one putting things away someone will put something in the wrong spot and he won’t be able to find it when he’s cooking. Which just leads to him blowing up more than is necessary.

Aizawa reclines on one of the benches along the path, coffee mug in hand as he watches the efficient rhythm his class has set up with a quiet glow of pride. Students chatter and move with purpose. The atmosphere is quiet. Soft. Relaxed. He closes his eyes, basking in the quiet peace of the moment. Naturally, in the two point five seconds he’s not watching, something goes wrong.

There’s a long low whistle and then Hagakure calls out “Damn Midoriya, are you charging for the gun show or do we get to watch free of charge?” He hears a strangled squeak that can only be Midoriya and then a loud crash ending in an ugly crunching sound. 

Aizawa opens his eyes, dreading what he knows he’ll see but knowing he needs to take in the situation anyway. Hagakure hangs out the window, frozen. Midoriya stands halfway up the path, body stiff and straight with his teeth grit in pain. Directly on his feet sits a large box, two more fallen over on the ground nearby. Aizawa groans into his coffee.

“Ah! Midoriya I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you drop them! Is your foot okay?” Hagakure gasps out, vaulting out the window to rush over and help lift the box off his foot. The other students outside crowd forward as well.

“Don’t worry about it,” Midoriya croaks out as Aizawa heads over.

“How bad is it?” Aizawa asks, as Uraraka and Shoji help Midoriya sit down.

Midoriya smiles up at him, face tight with pain, and says “Ah, I’m okay, Sensei!” Aizawa scowls at him. Midoriya winces. “Um. I mean. Uh… it might be… a little broken?”

“A little?” 

“...It might be a lot broken,” Midoriya admits, eyes falling. 

“Better,” Aizawa says with a short nod.

He takes hold of Midoriya’s foot with careful hands and starts loosening the laces in the hopes of getting the shoe off before his foot swells up too much. Of course, its not to be. He wiggles and teases the shoe, trying to find enough give to get it off without jostling Midoriya too badly. But even taking the laces out entirely isn’t enough to get it off.

“You can just pull, sensei, I’ll be fine.”

Aizawa turns a stern frown at Midoriya, eyes narrowing. “I’m counting that toward your fine.” Midoriya winces and makes the wise decision to shut his mouth. Aizawa redirects his attention back to the shoe issue. After another futile moment of gentle prodding he sighs and admits defeat.

“Sorry kid, but we have to get that shoe off and it’s not coming off intact.” Midoriya’s face falls. “Oh,” he says. He seems more pained by the idea of having to destroy his beloved red sneakers than the actual broken foot. Aizawa feels like he just kicked a puppy. But there’s really nothing he can do. The shoes are doomed.

Before he can do more than pause to consider how to go about doing the actual cutting Yaoyorozu is there with a quiet “Here, Sensei, use these,” as she pulls out a large pair of sheers from her stomach.

“Thank you.” He uses the shears to make quick work of the shoe. Midoriya watches their demise with miserable eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Yaoyorozu says, biting her lip. “I’d give making a new pair a go but clothes are a little harder to do than most things, since I need to put so much focus on the exact shape and size of everything. I know my own body well enough to manage but by the time I get a correctly sized shoe out for you you’ll have had plenty of time to go out and just buy a dozen new pairs.”

“It’s okay! I mean, even if you could I wouldn’t expect you to. And I don’t even know what they were made of so…” he shrugs a little, wincing slightly as Aizawa prods at a sore spot. Whatever else Yaoyorozu might say is lost as a loud bang sounds from inside the dorm and Bakugo’s screeching voice echoes out the door.

“Sounds like Bakugo and Satou are arguing again,” Yaoyorozu says with a sigh.

“Go ahead and sort that out,” Aizawa says, easing Midoriya’s foot back to the ground and picking up the other to check that one isn’t injured as well. “The rest of you can go ahead and keep unloading the truck.”

“I can carry him to Recovery Girl if need be,” Shoji says over Aizawa’s shoulder as Aizawa pulls off Midoriya’s other shoe, thankfully coming off much easier than the first one.

“I could lighten him! So he’s easier to carry!” Uraraka chips in from over Aizawa’s other shoulder. Aizawa shakes his head. Just as he suspected, there’s a nasty bruise slowly swelling up on Midoriya’s other foot as well. He feels around it gently.

“No, I’ve got it, thank you. Go join the others.”  

Uraraka hesitates, glancing at her friend. Midoriya smiles up a her. “It’s fine! I’d feel better if we didn’t go off schedule because of me!”

She wavers but nods “I’ll come see you after we finish!” she says as she jogs back to the train of people unloading the truck, waving goodbye as she goes. Midoriya returns her exuberant wave with a tiny one of his own.

He glances over at Aizawa, the smiles and cheer he’s been putting on for his friends dropping away for a more hesitant and nervous air. “Um,” he starts and then stops. Aizawa raises an eyebrow. “I can. I could walk over? Myself. If you want.” His eyes dart up and down the whole time, never quite meeting Aizawa’s properly, as his voice stumbles and falls into a mumble by the end of his sentence. Aizawa raises the other eyebrow.

“On a broken foot? I don’t think so. And I’m not convinced the other one isn’t broken too. It’s at least badly bruised.”

“I. I’d be okay. I mean. You don’t have to worry! It’s no bother- I’ve done it before!”

Aizawa stares. “You’ve done it before?”

“Yeah! So, um, if you’d rather not, um, concern yourself, I could get there on my own. I mean I got myself hurt so it’s only fair I handle it, right?”

Aizawa doesn’t know who taught the kid these things. To expect people not to care. To not want to care. He doesn’t know who they are or why they did it but he’d like to find them and do something distinctly unheroic.

“No.”

“No?”

“If Eri got hurt and needed to go to the nurse would you expect her to drag herself there?”

Midoriya looks aghast. “No!” he yelps.

“No? Even if were really inconvenient for you? Even if it was her fault she got hurt in the first place?”

“No, no of course not! That’s. It’s…”

“When someone gets hurt someone should help them. When you get hurt someone should help you.”

Midoriya twists his hands in his lap and doesn’t look up at him.

I’m sorry no one helped you when you needed them to, Aizawa thinks. He can't do anything to help the Midoriya of the past. But he can help the Midoriya of the now. He sighs and turns his back to Midoriya, shifting into a crouch.

“Climb up.” and then, remembering who he’s talking to, he adds “And don’t. Use. Your. Feet.” There’s a very pregnant pause before then Midoriya tentatively grabs onto Aizawa’s shoulders. Aizawa huffs and pulls Midoriya’s arms into a more secure grip. “Hold on tight- I’m going to stand.” 

It takes a little bit of awkward shuffling but Aizawa manages to gently manhandle Midoriya into piggy back position. Midoriya stays uncharacteristically quiet the whole trip to Recovery Girl. Aizawa doesn’t push him to talk.

Recovery Girl shoots Midoirya a disappointed frown when she opens the door to answer Aizawa’s knock. “Not his fault this time,” Aizawa says. She raises an eyebrow at him as he moves to let Midoriya down on one of the cots.

“What happened?” She asks.

“Hagakure asked him if he was charging for the gun show and he dropped a box on his foot.” Recovery Girl doesn’t laugh but there’s a definite amused air to her as she nods and says “Ah, I see.” Midoriya’s face burns bright red.

While Recovery Girl gets her portable x-ray machine set up Aizawa deems the situation handled and heads for the door. “Um,” Midoriya squeaks. Aizawa turns back to him, questioning. “Thank you. For. Um. For helping.” His voice goes from strong to soft the further he stutters out the words until Aizawa can barely hear him. Aizawa steps back over and drops a hand on Midoriya’s head. “You’re welcome, problem child.”

A pause and then. “You still owe the jar, though.” A laugh startles out of Midoriya and Aizawa tucks his chin into his scarf to hide his smile. “Yes, sensei,” Midoirya says, head not quite tilted far enough down to hide his own smile.

He steps out into the hall and makes to go back to the dorms, dreading whatever nonsense they’ll have gotten into in his absence. But then he stops. He thinks about the things Midoriya unintentionally implied about his past experiences with teachers. He thinks about kids born with powerful quirks and all the ways adults tend to fail those kids. He grabs two juices from the vending machines instead and goes back to the infirmary. The look of surprise and tentative happiness on Midoriya’s face when Aizawa drops a juice box in his lap and then drops himself into one of the waiting room chairs with a quiet “wake me when it’s time to go,” is worth whatever trouble the rest of the class will get into while he’s gone.

Which turns out to be Uraraka sitting sheepishly on one of the couches with a cup of milk in her hands and a towel pressed to her face. Midoriya snores softly on his shoulder as teacher and student stare each other down.

It’s Ashido who breaks the tension, gliding on a trail of acid slime at high speeds. She catches herself on the couch with one hand, the other raised above her head in a triumphant fist! “We did it! We found the last tooth!” Uraraka’s eyes dart between Ashido and Aizawa. Ashido looks over.

“What’s- Ooh hi, sensei,” she squeaks, letting the tooth in her hand plop into the cup of milk. “So. Um. Uraraka kinda, sorta, caught a couple of cans. With her face. But we managed to find all the teeth! So!”

He looks at Uraraka. She slowly lowers the towel and gives him an apologetic smile, revealing three gaps where teeth should be. Well. At least she isn’t saying she’s fine.

Chapter Text

He puts Midoriya to bed and does not tuck him in. He drapes one of his hero merch throw blankets over him and definitely does not notice the blanket he's grabbed is some sort of obviously unofficial merch featuring a group shot of various underground heroes with himself tucked into one shadowy corner. He also does not have any sort of soft feelings of any kind about this thing that he absolutely does not notice. He pulls Midoriya's door shut behind himself with no soft smile on his face.

Then he goes downstairs, retrieves Uraraka, calls a thoroughly unimpressed Recovery Girl, and takes Uraraka to take advantage of UA’s fantastic dental care. It takes maybe an hour to get all three teeth restored to their rightful places and then carry a sleepy and slightly loopy Uraraka back to the dorms. He learns, through stumbling, slurred, sentences that Uraraka took not one, not two, but four cans to the face because someone dared her to reenact a Disney movie. She passes out fully before he can find out who the someone was but that's okay. He has ways of making his students talk.

Aizawa enters 1-A’s dorm with a student snoring on his back for the second time today. Thankfully there's not a third injured student waiting for him. A few heads turn toward him as he kicks the door shut with a bang. Uraraka does not stir, as he knew she wouldn't. He stands in the doorway to the common room with as much authority as he can muster considering there's a teenager drooling on his shoulder.

“Alright,” he says to the students still lingering in the common room. “Which one of you dared her to do it?” His intimidation factor is slightly dimmed by Uraraka snoring like a chainsaw, head lolling on his shoulder, but it’s still enough that the students jolt. Everyone glances nervously at each other. Aizawa glares, slowly sweeping the room in search of the weakest link. His eyes catch on the slight movement of Jirou waving one of her earjacks. He raises an eyebrow. Jirou slowly moves her earjack to point at Kaminari.

“...Kaminari. Detention.”

Kaminari squawks. “But. How did you…” Jirou fails her valiant battle to hold back her laughter and breaks into sputtering giggles. Kaminari’s head jerks toward her, jaw falling open and an expression of profound betrayal on his face. “Jirou! How could you?”

“Easily and with great enthusiasm,” Jirou responds, deadpan. Kaminari wails. Uraraka snorts and jerks awake flailing. One of her hands smacks right into Aizawa’s face. She pats him, mumbles something unintelligible, and flops right back onto his shoulder, already out again. Oh no, he thinks as his feet slowly lift off the ground. Down below his students yelp and scramble toward them. But by the time they make it to them they’re already out of reach. He doesn't dare move too much lest he loose his grip and drop Uraraka from the slowly increasing height. All he can do is hiss “Uraraka. Uraraka. Wake up.”

She doesn’t wake up. The only thing keeping her secure on his back is his grip on her legs and an awkward hunched position to keep her from sliding off. It’s a choice between dropping his student to grab his scarf to tether them down or floating helplessly off. It's an easy choice to make. Well… at least we’re inside, he thinks as he resigns himself to his fate. They bump against the ceiling and gently bob along it. He sighs deeply. Down below his class frets and flutters, scrambling for a solution.

Sero emerges from the kitchen, takes a moment to stare at his teacher bobbing along the ceiling with his classmate snoring on his back, and silently lifts his elbow. The strip of tape catches Aizawa in the torso, just close enough to his hand that he can grab on without compromising his hold on Uraraka. The class cheers as Sero reels them down and tethers them to the couch.

“Thank you, Sero.”

“You’re welcome, sensei.”

Now that he and Uraraka are safely within range of the ground the only problem is how to keep her from accidentally floating anything and anyone else. Yaoyorozu comes to the rescue with a pair of four fingered mittens. She and Iida relieve Aizawa of Uraraka to carry her up to her room while Aizawa ties himself down to one of the armchairs until Uraraka can wake up and cancel her quirk. He passes the time grading, occasionally coming lose enough to bob along like a teacher shaped balloon, laptop balanced on his knees. Uraraka wakes an hour later, shrieking as she rushes downstairs. She slams her fingertips together, babbling apologies.

It’s quiet for a few days after what the class takes to calling the Deku Squad Double Whammy. The jar claims a few minor fines- all simple day to day bumps and bruises. Nothing major. Which means Aizawa should be expecting it. Should be. But he isn’t. Bakugo is, after all, never to be outdone by Midoriya. Even in things that are not and never should be a competition. Even when he’s not actively trying to compete. It’s like competing with Midoriya is just the natural state of Bakugo Katsuki’s existence.

The knock on his door is quiet but there's a frantic quality to it that still wakes Aizawa up, in spite of how little sleep he's gotten. He cracks an eye open and glares at the cheery red numbers on his alarm clock informing him that it's a bright and early six am. Whoever is at the door they aren't there with good news. At least, they better not be. Because between patrol, grading, and dorm duties he didn't make it to bed until three am.  If someone is waking him up for something that isn’t an emergency… well. Aizawa can’t be held responsible for what he does. He hauls himself upright with a groan. Shrugging on a shirt and pulling on his slippers, he trudges toward the door and the tentative knock that comes again just before he throws it open.

“Someone better be bleeding,” he growls.

“Um,” says Kaminari, pale white and shaky. His eyes dart away. He’s wearing a bright yellow shirt with a cartoon pikachu face on it. It makes it easy to see the dark smears and spots dotted on it. And then his hands, speckled with faint smears of red. Aizawa closes his eyes, pleading to the uncaring and merciless void, and takes a deep breath.

“...Please tell me someone isn’t actually bleeding.”

Silence.

Should have known better than to tempt fate, Aizawa thinks. He forces himself to take another deep breath. Kaminari isn’t nearly as stupid as he likes to pretend. If someone were bleeding out he wouldn’t have wasted time coming to Aizawa. So, no one is dying, at least.

“How serious is it?”

“Just a kitchen accident!” Kaminari squeaks. And then deflates into a fluttering mess. “But. Um. We probably need Recovery Girl?” Aizawa stares at him until he breaks. “Definitely need Recovery Girl. Or an ambulance? If, um. If she’s not here?” Aizawa makes himself think of kittens. Cute fluffy kittens that can go one whole day without anyone ending up bleeding or with broken bones or some other hospital worthy injury.

He drags a hand down his face, fighting the urge to groan as he mourns the sleep he's going to lose. “...Give me two seconds.”

Aizawa yanks on proper shoes and follows Kaminari to 1-A’s kitchen. Kirishima and Bakugo are there, Kirishima hovering over the chair Bakugo sits in, hunched over and looking ready to explode. It’s not an uncommon scene. Perhaps Bakugo seems two seconds closer to exploding than usual. But considering he has a kitchen knife embedded in his shoulder at an awkward angle Aizawa feels like maybe this time Bakugo has a right to it.

‘Maybe’ need Recovery girl my ass, Aizawa thinks.

Aizawa steps quickly over and drops into a crouch next to Bakugo, bringing one hand to his uninjured shoulder. Kirishima shuffles over to make room as Kaminari joins him in hovering. Bakugo drags his glare over to Aizawa and grunts through gritted teeth, the closest to a greeting Aizawa expects to get.

“What happened?”

“I wanted fish for breakfast and I fumbled the fucking knife,” Bakugo snaps. Aizawa hums, eyes flicking between the knife and the guilt ridden expressions on Kirishima and Kaminari’s faces. Right. Fumbled the knife. Somehow stabbing himself in the shoulder. Sure. He sets that aside for now and focuses on the more immediate problem.

It’s a filleting knife, thin and sharp and sunk two- maybe three- inches into Bakugo’s shoulder. Not horrifically deep but deep enough to pose a problem. At the very least someone, probably Bakugo himself, had the good sense to wrap and stabilize it.

“Well, you definitely need to see Recovery Girl. But you’re also not walking there yourself. And considering the position of the knife I can’t put you in a rescue carry... there's really only one way to do this.” A pause. Bakugo squints at him. And then it clicks.

He bristles like an angry cat. “What the fuck? Hell no!”

Aizawa fights the urge to sigh and pinch his brow. “Bakugo, we don’t have a stretcher in the dorms. This is the fastest and easiest option.”

“I’m not getting fucking princess carried to the fucking nurse!”

He gets princess carried to the nurse.

Aizawa is honestly surprised- and suspicious- that he doesn’t have to threaten Kirishima or Kaminari out of taking a picture to tease him with. If Bakugo actually managed to stab himself without any outside help he'll eat his goggles.

They make their way to the nurse’s office at a brisk pace, Recovery girl already alerted and prepping for their arrival. Bakugo sulks so much Aizawa is surprised there’s no smoke.

Shuzenji waits for them at the door to the building, a coat thrown over her pajamas and one of her nurse-bots at her side. He follows her directions, setting Bakugo on the cot she herds him toward and then steps back to let her work.

Its a few minutes work for her to evaluate the injury and prepare to extract the knife. As she does Aizawa mulls over his suspicions.

In his experience when people have accidents with kitchen knives they’re things like cutting board mishaps. Self stabbings are usually just dropping the knife and it landing on their feet. Anything else- and any where else- usually requires another participant. Or two participants who practically radiate guilt and completely fail to tease their injured friend.

“So… want to tell me how you, of all people, accidentally stabbed yourself?” Bakugo stays silent long enough that Aizawa wonders if he’ll have to push a little harder. Then he bites out “Dumbasses were fucking around, shovin’ each other and shit. They bumped me, I fumbled the knife, and here we fucking are.”

Aizawa nods, not looking down at his most volatile student. Yeah, that’s just about what I expected. It’s clearly not the whole story though. But he can get that out of Kaminari and Kirishima easily.

“Guess Iida is going to get to draw up those kitchen rules after all.”

Bakugo rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to make such a big deal about it.”

Aizawa raises his eyebrow at him. “You were stabbed.”

“Fucking barely!”

Aizawa can feel years of his life being peeled away. “There’s no such thing as barely stabbed. You’re either stabbed or you’re not stabbed.”

“I’m fucking fine!” Bakugo hisses. Aizawa’s eye twitches.

“Jar.”

“Ugh,” Bakugo grumbles but wisely doesn’t argue. He leaves Bakugo for Recovery Girl’s capable hands to fret over and returns to the dorms.

He finds Kirishima and Kaminari lingering in the kitchen, atmosphere heavy. Which is perfect because he needs to talk to them anyway. Standing in the doorway of the kitchen he clears his throat. Their eyes jerk up to him and they bolt to their feet. He stands in front of them, arms crossed, staring. Neither can meet his eyes for very long, shoulders hunching and miserable eyes downcast.

“Alright. What happened?” They’re quiet for a long few seconds, trading guilty looks. Before Aizawa can push anymore Kaminari bursts out with “It was my fault!”

Kirishima jerks and says “No, man, it was my fault!”

“I’m the one who zapped you!”

“But I’m the one who started chasing you!”

“So? I started it!”

“You’re not the one who knew he had a knife!”

“Maybe if I wasn’t so stupid I would have noticed-”

“Enough!” Aizawa snaps. Both boys jerk and fall silent, eyes dropping again.

Aizawa rakes a critical eye over them and then the room. Now that he doesn’t have a stabbed student to deal with he notices the cutting board and half filleted fish knocked askew. Purses his lips at the telltale splatter of blood on the floor leading to the chair he found Bakugo in. Notes a few other things knocked sideways and a few papers scattered on the ground. He turns his eyes back to his students.

“Kirishima. Full story. Go.”

“I came into the kitchen after my morning work out,” Kirishima starts, half mumbling the story into the floor, “I saw Bakugo and tried to, y’know, punch his shoulder and play around? But he snapped at me and said not to screw around while he was holding a knife. So I got my shake and sat down at the table- started talking. Then Kaminari came in and I didn’t-” Aizawa holds up a hand.

“Pause. Kaminari. Start from there.”

“I came in but neither of them noticed me. So I thought it’d be funny if I zapped them? As a stupid prank? So I zapped Kirishima and ran away and he chased me and I tried to get Bakugo too but then Kirishima tackled me and the knife- so it was my fault! I should have noticed-”

“Stop.” Aizawa says curtly. Right. “Self deprecation isn’t getting either of you anywhere.” The boys stare at their feet and Aizawa sighs.

“Basically, what happened is you were goofing around like normal teenagers somewhere you shouldn’t have been and there was an accident. You made a mistake. A stupid one but a normal, human, mistake.”

Both boys try to protest. Aizawa silences them with a glare.

This isn’t actually that big of a deal. Yes it was stupid. Yes they never should have been horsing around in the kitchen. But they’re kids and its not like most adults think twice about it either.

Besides, Bakugo isn’t hurt that badly and, honestly, it’s a bit of a freak accident that he even was hurt that badly at all. They’ve all gotten worse in training, honestly. But it’s clear that the boys are feeling a lot more guilt than their actions really warrant. Not that unexpected considering their career choice. In his experience, Hero students are some of the worst offenders when it comes to shouldering responsibility and guilt for every bad thing no matter how illogical it is. But this class has to be one of the worst cases he’s seen so far in his career.

Still, even if they are taking this too much to heart they did screw up. Measures need to be taken. Punishments dolled out.

“Of course that doesn’t mean you’re escaping punishment,” he says, trying not to frown at the almost relieved looks growing on their faces. “You’ll both need to apologize to Bakugo- not that I think I need to make you- and you’ll be cleaning this mess up. And then…” he grins, slow and wicked. Trepidation creeps onto their faces. “You’ll both be helping Iida draw up the new kitchen safety rules.” The horror on their faces speaks volumes but they don’t argue.  

He looks at them, wilting and miserable, and sighs, softening. “It turned out fine so don’t worry about it too much. Let it be a lesson but don’t let it weigh you down.” Neither of the boys seem reassured. Or even look up at all.

He’s not good at this part of his job. He’s not All Might. He can’t take the weight off their shoulders just by showing up. All he can do is crouch down to their level, put a hand on each of their shoulders, and gently squeeze until their eyes drag up to meet his. “You’re going to make mistakes. You’re going to make worse mistakes. That’s the consequence of being human. But no one expects you to be perfect. Bakugo is going to be fine. Recovery Girl will have him back in class before homeroom.” He stands up, letting his hands fall away. The boys watch him, just a little less utterly miserable than before. That's the best someone like himself can ask for. “Get to work on the kitchen, I’ll see you both in class.”

The rest of the day goes exactly as Aizawa expects it to. Bakugo stomps into the classroom to disguise how much his feet drag and blows off Kirishima and Kaminari’s attempts to apologize. Neither of the boys give up, continuing to throw apologies at Bakugo all the way through lunch, where Bakugo regains enough energy to blow up at them more literally, until it cumulates with Bakugo demanding sparing matches as punishment for accidentally getting him stabbed, trashes them both, and demands their punishment for losing be that they “Stop acting like a bunch of sad sack dumbasses,” which Aizawa is about 90% certain means both that he forgives them and that he wants them to stop moping around and acting like kicked puppies.

Naturally Aizawa chooses this moment to pounce, reminding Kirishima and Kaminari that part one of their punishment may be done but they’ve still got part two to get through. And Iida is extremely happy to finally be given permission to formally write up a Proper Kitchen Conduct Code. He’s set up meetings. With itemized schedules. Aizawa makes no attempt to curb this. A punishment is a punishment, after all. (and maybe also for a tiny bit of harmless revenge for everything these kids put him through.)

Chapter Text

Saying Koda is being quiet is a little like saying the night is dark. And yet that’s exactly what Aizawa finds himself noticing.

Koda has always been quiet. Especially at the start of the year. But over the course of the year Aizawa watches him open up, making friends with the more mellow students like Satou and Tokoyami. More recently, Jirou and Koda’s partnership in the final exam seems to have turned into a strong friendship. Now, more often than not, he finds her hanging out in the courtyard with Koda and his other friends, quietly playing instruments and passing Koda's rabbit around. By virtue of Satou and Tokoyami’s presences, they’re often joined by Sero, Shoji, and Midoriya. Jirou’s addition means Momo and Hagakure often gravitate over as well. The further into the year they get the larger Koda's friend group grows. And the larger Koda’s circle of friends grows, the more Koda’s signing grows- literally.

It spirals out from as unobtrusive and as contained as possible to wider, more expressive, gestures. It's nowhere near Mic’s wild over exaggerated movements- which should classify as a workplace hazard with the number of times he’s smacked someone in the face. But it's enough that it’s clear he’s comfortable and happy. Even more telling is that sometimes Aizawa hears Koda’s soft voice join the rest of the class’s. Still much quieter than the average teen but a welcome change anyway. But somewhere between the month from hell and the dorm’s first accidental stabbing something happened to one of his quietest students.

He’s withdrawn, shrinking back in on himself more and more. At first Aizawa assumes it's just stress, school or the class's most recent traumatic experience, but it continues on and grows worse. No matter how hard he wracks his brain Aizawa can't pin what triggered it. But he intends to find out. His first and simplest plan is to pull Koda aside after school is over and just ask. He’s not really expecting to need a second plan- it’s Koda. Social anxiety aside, Koda is one of his easy students- if any student in 1-A qualifies as easy.

The final bell of the day rings. The class begins to file out save for the unlucky souls slated for classroom duties.

“Koda,” Aizawa calls as the student in question passes his desk.

“Sensei?” Koda signs, the tilt of his head questioning.

“Walk with me,” Aizawa says, heaving himself to his feet.

He leads Koda into the empty classroom across the hall. There’s nothing in there but a few spare desks pushed to the walls and the teacher’s desk sitting up against the front of the classroom. Aizawa leans against it. Koda stands in front of him with hunched shoulders and hands that won't stay still, rising and falling and twisting together.

“I won’t keep you long, I just wanted to ask if everything is all right,” Aizawa says. Koda freezes, wide-eyed like a deer in the headlights. His hands rise and stutter to a stop until he visibly forces himself forward.

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Koda signs. Aizawa fights the urge to groan. Right… sure you are, he thinks.

“You’ve been very quiet lately,” Aizawa says, prodding as gently as he’s able. Koda gives him a tiny little shrug and signs “I’m always quiet.”

Aizawa raises an eye brow at him. Koda shrinks a little but says nothing. Aizawa doesn’t purse his lips. He doesn’t let any of his frustration with the blatant lie show on his face. He just looks at Koda, letting his eyes bore into him as if his quirk will spontaneously develop the power to erase the ability to lie as well as quirks. Sadly, it doesn’t. If only it would. His life would be much easier. It would probably be handy for hero work as well.

Whatever is happening, Koda clearly isn’t going to give it up without a fight. And trying to force it out of him will only make things worse. Aizawa has no real concrete proof something is wrong, after all, so there's nothing to stop Koda from clamming up. Time to retreat and come up with a plan B then, Aizawa thinks. “Alright,” Aizawa says, breaking the long silence. Koda relaxes.

“But I want you to know if you decide you're not fine then any of your teachers will be happy to help you with any problems you may or may not find yourself having.” Koda hesitates and for one beautiful moment Aizawa thinks this might actually get resolved quickly. But Koda just nods quickly and Aizawa reluctantly lets him go even though all he wants to do is pick his student up by the ankles and shake him until the problem falls out. And while that's immensely satisfying to picture, it's unlikely to work and also socially frowned upon. Plus Koda is a sizeable kid and he’d have to stand on a desk or something to do it which is just undignified. All he can really do is resolve to keep a closer eye on his quietest student. Unfortunately, that’s a resolve that very quickly gets chucked right out the window.

Not long after settling into the dorms class 1-A designates Saturday as their "official" class movie night. With each grocery order snacks are set aside specifically for movie night. And yet, somehow, every single movie night the class finds themselves woefully bereft of movie appropriate snacks and in need of a quick snack run. Except for that one time at the start of the month from hell, where Kaminari and Shinsou got caught up in a villain attack, there’s never been a problem with this. Well. Except for Iida and his righteous rage that his hungry classmates have, yet again, eaten the movie snacks outside of their designated time for consumption.

So Aizawa really has no reason to refuse Tokoyami and Shoji when they request permission to make the by now weekly snack run. It’s a convenience store this time, the class having made a silent agreement to avoid the corner store for a little bit out of respect for both Aizawa’s nerves and the way Kaminari and Shinsou still get a little twitchy walking down that street. Aizawa gives his permission, signs their passes, and indulges in a moment of painful resignation when, barely twenty minutes later, the phone rings. Bubble. wrap. One of these days he's really gonna do it.

Red lights flash in the twilight, casting flickering shadows over the scene. Aizawa takes in the wreaked store front. The awning of the store rests on the concrete in front of the shop, an upside down car clearly marking what caused it to fall. There's an ambulance with a pair of EMTs tending to a small group of people. He finds his students sitting on the curb a few feet from it with bulging plastic bags at their feet. Aizawa flashes his license at the officer manning the caution tape without breaking stride or so much as glancing toward them.

The boys look up as he approaches, body language sheepish. He sighs. He knows it's not as if his students are trying to get into trouble but this is getting ridiculous. “At this rate, if Midoriya isn’t careful, someone is going to usurp his position as class problem child,” Aizawa says as he stops in front of them. Neither boy laughs but some of the tension bleeds out of them. Aizawa lets his eyes drag over the boys, looking for injuries. “How bad is it?” he asks.

“Shoji injured himself shielding me when the awning came down,” Tokoyami says.

“Not all of you. I know it at least got your legs,” Shoji says.

“I bear no injury which will meet my end- your injuries are far more extensive than my own,” Tokoyami huffs.

“I’m fine,” Shoji says. Aizawa feels the now familiar resignation and frustration settle in. This is the corner store all over again, he thinks.

“You bore a great and terrible weight in my name. You have more than earned the right to treatment first.”

Shoji shakes his head. “I’m tough. Besides, there were lots of civilians we couldn’t protect that need treatment far more than either of us-”

“You know what? No. I’m not doing this song and dance again. Lets do this the fast way-” Aizawa turns toward Shoji. “-Shoji, how injured is Tokoyami?” Shoji pauses, confused, but answers, which is honestly all Aizawa cares about right now.

“I’m certain he hit his head at least once and part of the awning sliced him when it came down. Plus I didn’t manage to shield his legs so he definitely took a hit there.” Tokoyami’s feathers puff out, indignant. Aizawa nods, short and curt and turns to Tokoyami before he can voice any kind of protest.

“Tokoyami, how injured is Shoji?”

“Shoji only knows of my laceration because of how deeply it cut him. And I am certain for each of my bruises he bore thrice at the very least.”

“Are either of you still bleeding?”

“No,” answers Shoji, ever to the point.

“We have bound our wounds sufficiently,” Tokoyami answers.

“Then you’ll live until we reach Recovery Girl. Up.” He herds them both into the car, easing the EMT’s concerns with Recovery Girl's name and another flash of his license. And then he does the adult thing and calls ahead. Even though it means he has to endure Recovery Girl's scoldings once over the phone and again as his students are treated and bundled off to bed on tired, wobbly, feet. And if a few bags of snacks mysteriously end up on one of the common room tables? Well, no one can prove who did it anyway.

Curfew arrives and when Aizawa comes to check up on his class he finds, to absolutely no surprise at all, that each and everyone one of them are out of bed- even Tokoyami and Shoji, who must have snuck out to join their friends at some point. Not one single one is awake. They’re all tangled together in various little piles, mouths open and snoring, across pillows, couches, and chairs. A few have blankets haphazardly thrown around themselves. It definitely does not remind him of kittens, piled together for warmth.

He huffs, shaking the image from his head, and moves forward to wake them. He hesitates, his hand inches from Ashido’s slowly rising and falling shoulder. He hovers there for a moment and then shrugs with a sigh, reaching instead for the blanket half fallen off her lap. Its fine, he tells himself, it’s Saturday. There’s no school tomorrow, so, just this once it’s okay.

Moving with every inch of stealth honed over years of hero work, he moves from group to group, pulling blankets over bodies and tucking pillows under heads until there’s not a single student left lacking. He takes a step back to sweep his eyes over the class, double checking that they’re all sufficiently- not tucked in. He didn't. He didn't tuck them in. He’s not that soft. He just… bundled them up. Just so he doesn’t have to listen to them whine about sore necks tomorrow, of course. It’s efficiency, is all.

Their faces glow in the soft light of the TV, the movie's title card playing on repeat. In it's flickering light, their faces look softer. More like the kids they try so hard not to be. If he pauses a moment too long before he turns the TV off and retreats back to his own room... Well, there’s no one left awake to tattle on him. It’s fine. For tonight, everything is fine.

It’s not fine. It's the month from hell all over again. But worse.

Two days after Shoji and Tokoyami get caught between a drunken disorderly customer and a terrified cashier Jirou gets one of her ear jacks slammed in a door. She earns herself a sizeable fine insisting it’s not that big of a deal despite the bruises and the bleeding and the near ninety degree angle making it clear it's badly broken. It is, in fact, a big deal. It’s enough of a big deal that Recovery Girl calls in a quirk injury specialist to help guide her through healing it.

Not even twenty-four hours later Momo slips in the rain and breaks her arm. Then she tries to insist it’s “nothing” and “just fine, sensei, really." Because it's study night and she promised Iida she'd help out and she doesn't want to disappoint anyone. That one leads to Aizawa laying face first in the couch in the teacher’s lounge.

“She's supposed to be the sensible one,” he groans into the couch with Hizashi’s and Vlad’s unsympathetic snickering for background music.

“There, there, Aizawa! I’m sure everything will improve in the morning,” Yagi says, patting his shoulder sympathetically. Aizawa turns his head to glare at him. “Don’t jinx them- they don’t need that kind of help,” he growls. Yagi holds his hands up, pacifying, and makes a strategic exit.

The next day, Ojirou dislocates his tail during training and neglects to tell anyone for a full twenty minutes. Then, when Yagi notices and asks if he's okay, he tries to brush it off with an "I'm fine, All Might-sensei!" Aizawa finds himself torn between being smug that someone else finally faced the dreaded "I'm fine," and being pissed that Yagi jinxed them. Coincidentally, a gift basket full of various fruit flavored gourmet jelly pouches appears on his desk. Aizawa decides to generously forgive Yagi for jinxing the class. This time.

The month does not improve. A week later Iida and Midoriya literally run into each other while jogging and- instead of going to the nurse- come to class covered in mud and blood. Iida’s eye is swelling so badly it dislodges his glasses. Midoriya's still bleeding nose is bruising in a way that Aizawa knows means he broke it. And then they try to apologize for coming to class a mess and getting the floor dirty. Aizawa frog marches them to Recovery Girl, giving them both a run down on what fines they’ve incurred along the way.

Four tense days later, Todoroki accidentally badly burns Asui’s tongue and then proceeds to have the world’s quietest panic attack. Asui, feeling responsible, tries to put off going to the nurse to stay and try to help. Aizawa sends her packing owing a fine to the jar as soon as Recovery Girl turns her loose. Todoroki comes out of his panic attack and tries to go right back to training. Asui proves that being in class 1-A causes you to loose all sense by coming back to class even though she's dead on her feet and tries to do the same. He sends them both back to the dorm to pay their fines and rest. And if he finds them sprawled on the couch together in the boneless sleep of pure exhaustion with tear tracks drying on their faces then that’s just a bonus. Asui adopting a baffled Todoroki as a younger sibling is a second, more unexpected, bonus.

But it’s Shinsou who proves himself a true member of class 1-A despite transferring in halfway through the year and gets closest to giving Aizawa a heart attack.

...By passing out in the middle of an exercise mid-swing on his capture scarf while twenty feet in the air. Because, apparently, his insomnia has been acting up horrifically but he didn’t do the sensible thing and tell literally anyone. Naturally, the class’s attempts to rescue him collide into one horrific mess, like watching cars pile up on a highway.

He has to send the entire class to Recovery Girl with broken noses and sprains aplenty- including Midoriya who, in the end, was the one to actually catch Shinsou- grabbing Shinsou in one hand and the dangling capture scarf with the other... and promptly dislocating both shoulders in what the class decides to call the Shinsou Pileup.

Aizawa does not crush his pseudo kid in a solid minute long hug no matter what photo and video evidence taken by his terrible friends might imply. He also doesn't leave a box of any of the one of a kind prototype Eraserhead shirts on Midoriya's balcony. The shirts, which do not exist and are not in Midoriya's possession, were bought and paid for by Hizashi, who just won't give up on convincing Aizawa to make some official merch.

Midoriya finding a box he claims is full of Eraserhead shirts on his balcony and screaming so loudly every bird on campus takes off in fright is a complete coincidence. It couldn't be Aizawa. He's busy hiding from Recovery Girl’s wrath in the teacher’s lounge. But listening to Mic’s uncontrolled laughter when he finds out what happened almost isn’t worth it. Although throwing a couch cushion at Mic hard enough to knock him over does make him feel a bit better. Hell Month 2, however, doesn't get better, though Aizawa does avoid sending the whole class to the infirmary at once for a second time.

...It’s no wonder that, by the time everything starts to calm down, he’s completely forgotten about Koda's mysterious problem. And it’s just his luck that that’s when everything finally comes to light in the worst way possible.

Chapter Text

It’s Monday. A perfectly mundane Monday right until he steps into the classroom. He takes attendance and settles into taking care of homeroom business. Not even halfway through class the niggling sense that something is wrong starts to bother him. He lets his eyes casually rove over his students, seeking out the trouble. No one is missing, thankfully, but he can pick out six who prick at his senses as too off to ignore.

He’s resigned but unsurprised that Midoriya is one of them. Iida is slightly more of a surprise but, honestly? Not by much. He’s not friends with Midoriya for no reason, after all. Koda, however, is a complete surprise. Tokoyami, Jirou, and Satou he isn’t expecting. But, considering Koda is involved, he supposes it’s less of a surprise than it should be.

No one seems to be bleeding this time, thankfully. And he doesn’t think any broken bones are involved- judging by the lack of pain and stiffness in the top suspect for those kind of injuries. But that only means he’s going to have to work harder to figure out what’s wrong. He examines all six of the current problem students in turn as the class wears on, noting with some dread that the number of confused and worried students is only increasing in number as they form a chain of students picking up on their friend’s worry and pass it on to another friend who passes it on to one of their friends and so on and so forth. Like an infection spreading. Hero students, Aizawa thinks, as if he wasn't and isn't still the exact same way.

Observation is a significant part of an underground hero’s skills and after so many years Aizawa is good at it. Ironically, it serves him just as well in the classroom as it does in the field- helping him pick out the ones who actually know what’s going on vs the ones who are only reacting to their friends being upset. Of the anxious students- which by now describes about half the class- he can pick out three who seem to actually know what’s going on. Midoriya being one doesn’t surprise him. Iida surprises him only slightly more than Midoriya, which is to say not much at all. Koda, however, surprises him so much he second guesses his observation skills.

Midoriya and Iida are different flavors of worried and angry. Both are quite clearly worried for Koda, constantly glancing over at him and catching each other's eyes when they think Aizawa isn't looking. However, where Iida seems shot through with an undercurrent of shock and indignation there's a resignation to Midoriya that Aizawa really doesn't care for. Aizawa is going to go gray by the time this class graduates and at least half of those gray hairs are going to be Midoriya’s fault.

Koda is adamantly refusing to look up from his notebook. Aizawa can hardly see his face but he doesn’t like what bits he can see. Eyes that are too bright, too shiny. Trembling hands. Hunched shoulders. Its worse than he was at the start of the year and that's saying something. Aizawa purses his lips. Whatever is happening it’s clear Koda is the center of it.

By the end of homeroom there's not a single student left who hasn't picked up that something is wrong. Every one of them is clearly stretching their patience to the limit waiting for him leave so they can dash over to their friends and figure out what’s wrong before the next class starts. When Aizawa stands to leave nineteen pairs of eyes lock onto him, Koda still stubbornly refusing to look up as he carefully arranges his school materials on his desk just so.

Usually Aizawa promptly exits the room and wanders off in the direction of the teacher’s lounge for a nap or some time with Eri before he sets to work on all the various little details and issues that are his responsibility as a homeroom teacher. Today he stands and says “Koda, Midoriya, and Iida. With me.” The three boys startle but stand without protest, filing out the door ahead of him. Every set of eyes left in the classroom follow him, burning with concern. Aizawa pauses in the doorway. “Jirou. Ears to yourself.” Jirou scowls but nods reluctantly.

Outside the classroom, he runs into Hizashi, whose class is up next. Hizashi glances from the trio of boys to Aizawa with raised eyebrows. Aizawa shakes his head the smallest amount possible. Hizashi gives him a grin and a two fingered salute, winking as he strides past to take control of the classroom. Aizawa lets himself relax just a tad, trusting Hizashi to take care of the rest of the kids while he handles this. Whatever this is.

He leads the boys to an empty classroom down the hall. They settle into the unused desks and he moves to stand in front of them. “Alright,” he says as he crosses his arms, “What happened?” As one, Midoriya and Iida’s eyes snap to Koda, neatly confirming that the source of the unknown trouble is indeed Koda, surprising as it is.

Koda flutters, flustered, and jerkily signs “It’s not a big deal. It’s nothing.”

Aizawa gives him a flat look. “It’s enough of something that it’s got the entire class riled up.” Koda shrinks.

“It... It was just a stupid prank. I’m fine.”

“Jar.”

Koda’s head jerks up. “I- but I’m not hurt?” His signs turn hesitant, confused.

“Physical harm isn’t the only way to be hurt. And I’ve never seen you look less okay than you do right now.”

Koda’s eyes stutter away from his. He twists his hands together, shoulders pulling in as he shifts to hold himself. Midoriya slides closer to him, reaching up to lay a careful hand on Koda’s back. Koda jerks a little, surprised, but leans into the other boy. Aizawa waits. Koda shuffles. His hands start and stutter to a stop several times before he gives up and sends a desperate look to Iida, pleading.

Iida moves forward, gently squeezing Koda’s arm, and says “Sensei, if I may…” Aizawa glances at Koda and the naked relief on his face. He nods. “Someone, that is to say…” Iida purses his lips. Rage colors his voice and lines his face as he struggles to continue. “Midoriya and I ran into Koda on the way to class this morning. So we all walked the rest of the way together. And we were the first ones there but-” Iida’s hands fist at his sides, tight enough that they tremble. “Sensei someone put a vase of white chrysanthemums on Koda’s desk.”

Aizawa goes completely and utterly still. The tears gathering in Koda’s eyes spill over and he cries silently. Midoriya uses the hand not pressed to Koda’s back to gently tug him into a hug, encouraging his classmate to curl as far into his arms as their height difference will allow. Koda goes easily, folding himself down to cry into Midoriya's shoulder.

Iida raises his hand to Koda’s back, his other hand fisted at his side as he shakes with rage, angry tears fogging his glasses. "I Just. I don't understand why- Sensei, why would someone do that?" he chokes out. Midoriya opens his mouth. Shuts it. Tightens his hold on Koda, tucking his chin closer to his classmate's head so that his wild curls fall and cover most of his face.

There are a thousand and one answers to Iida's question. But Aizawa can't think of a single adequate one let alone choke one out past the rage strangling him. He reaches out and squeezes Iida's shoulder again. The boy takes in a shaky breath, holds it a moment, and lets it out again, just slightly steadier than it was going in. He nods, reaching up to wipe the tears out of the corners of his eyes, and raises his chin, jaw hardening as he forces himself to steady.

Aizawa breathes through his own anger, trying to get it under control. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that his students can’t even be safe in their own damn classroom. He closes his eyes and counts to ten. Then he counts back down again. He does it over and over again until he can fold up all his rage and frustration and set them aside until he has time to deal with them. A time when he doesn’t have three crying and upset students to take care of. No, wait... two crying students. Midoriya isn’t crying.

…Midoriya isn't crying? Midoriya? If that's not some kind of red flag then Aizawa doesn't know what is. He mentally adds that to his list of problems to investigate once this situation is dealt with.

“Right. Alright…” Aizawa claws himself to something approaching steadiness and dares try for gentleness. “Alright. You two go tell the principal what you told me. I’ll handle things here.”

“Yes sir,” Iida says, voice tight and thick. But Midoriya frowns up at him “But... Sensei…” He glances at Koda, still tightly held in his arms.

“I’ve got Koda, you go with Iida- Nezu will need to talk to you both,” Aizawa says, moving over to pull Koda into his own arms. Midoriya nods, hesitant, and reluctantly lets Aizawa pull Koda over. It’s awkward. For all that hero work has accustomed Aizawa to getting clung to and cried on Koda is not only taller and bulkier than him but also literally nothing but hard edges. Plus Aizawa can’t even do what he normally does- give the crying person a few hard pats and pass them off to someone softer and more suited to comforting asap. He's never been good at comforting people. It’s always been what he considers his weakest point as a hero and one he’s never been able to correct. But. Right now, as stupid and illogical as it is, he doesn’t want to try and find someone to shove this task onto.

In fact he’s pretty certain that if anyone short of Koda’s parents try to pull Koda away from him right now he’ll bite their heads off. So… Stupid as it is, he doesn’t try to reach for his phone to find someone better at the hugging and shushing part of heroing. He just holds onto Koda, frantically searching for something, anything, to say.

“You’re alright,” he says, voice softer than he’s ever managed to make it. “You’re alright,” he says again, as Koda squeezes him harder and hiccups into outright sobs in response.

He doesn’t know how long Koda cries or how many times he repeats dozens of comforting phrases he can’t even tell are doing any good. Long enough that he almost regrets not following logic and finding Koda someone softer to cry on. Long enough that he’s certain Iida and Midoriya have reached Nezu by now and explained things to the principal. Possibly even long enough for Nezu to have tracked down the perpetrators via security footage and be ready to make the next move. But no one comes to disturb them. Not even when the bells signaling the end of Hizashi’s English class and the start of the next class ring.

At some point Aizawa manages to coax Koda into sitting down with him, straight down on the ground. Aizawa leans back against the large teacher desk, Koda curled next to him with as much of him as possible tucked into Aizawa’s chest. Aizawa keeps talking until Koda’s tears soften and peter off. He nearly doesn’t realize when they stop entirely, trailing off mid sentence as he clues in.

“Koda?” he asks. No response. Aizawa pulls back, calling another quiet "Koda?" once more. But Koda’s breathing is steady and soft, slowing into sleep.

“Ah,” he says, considering the new conundrum of what to do now. He’s ready to give hoisting Koda onto his back and just crossing his fingers and hoping it won’t wake him a chance when there’s a tentative knock on the door.

“...come in,” Aizawa says after a minute. The door slides open, revealing Jirou’s sheepish face. Aizawa gives her a flat look. “I thought I told you to keep your ears to yourself.”

She flushes. “I did!” Aizawa raises an eyebrow. And yet, somehow, here you are, the motion says “Mostly! I didn’t listen to the talking! I just, you know, waited a bit and popped in every now and again so we’d know when you guys were done.”

“We?” he says. Jirou winces, glancing apologetically behind herself.

“Sorry Sensei...” says Satou as he shifts into view. Tokoyami follows him from Jirou's other side. “Apologies, however, we were concerned for our friend,” he says. He looks not the least bit apologetic.

Aizawa sighs. “Well since you’re all here you can help me get him to the nurse’s office. I’m sure Recovery Girl’s infirmary cots are more comfortable than the floor.” The students move forward, eager to help their friend anyway they can.

Between Dark Shadow and Satou, getting Koda tucked into a cot in Recovery Girl’s domain becomes a lot easier. Once it’s done he shoos the reluctant trio away. “You’ve got classes,” he says as he tries to herd them out the door.

“It’s our lunch break!” Jirou counters, hovering in the doorway.

“Then go eat. He’s not even awake right now and he'll have wiped himself out too much to wake anytime soon.” Still they hesitate.

"Don't worry!” pipes up Nezu as he pops up beside them out of nowhere. Satou shrieks, snags his friends, and leaps sideways. Nezu grins with all his teeth and Aizawa tries not to laugh. Satou sets Jirou and Tokoyami down with a sheepish apology. It’s almost enough to make Aizawa laugh until he remembers the circumstances.

“Your teacher and I will take care of things here. You’ll see your friend back at the dorms tonight- this won’t take us more than a few hours to resolve!” With that the kids are finally gently herded out the door. Aizawa glances over at Nezu as the door clicks shut behind them. Jirou is smart enough to not risk the principal’s ire by eavesdropping so Aizawa isn’t surprised that Nezu doesn't bother to wait until even she'll be out of earshot before he launches right into it.

“Our perpetrators are all rounded up. All that’s left is for young Koda to wake up and collaborate with the security footage. Once he has I’ll have them out on their ears by tomorrow.” Nezu smiles. It’s not a nice smile.

“Good.” Aizawa says, allowing himself a moment of vicious satisfaction before moving on to more important things. “How are Iida and Midoriya?”

Nezu hums, head cocking. “They both seem quite shaken up by this. I sent them along to Hound Dog.”

“The three of them will need at least a few sessions with him.”

Nezu nods. “Yes that seems quite prudent. No sense in letting anything fester. Small and furry I may be but comforting I am not. No I'm much better at the more... technical aspects of resolving a situation. Speaking of which... would you care to fill out the expulsion forms while I contact Koda's parents?"

“Yes,” Aizawa growls, feeling a dark satisfaction. Paperwork, as a general rule, is horrible but these are some forms he'll gladly suffer through. Nezu grins again. “I’ll send it right over.” He hops down from his chair and strolls back out the door leaving Aizawa with a peacefully sleeping student and too much to think about. One particular thought has him reconsidering just sitting here until Nezu returns.

…It shouldn’t be too hard to make it to the dorms and back before Nezu comes back, should it?

It’s not. Even with his return trip slowed by the precious cargo he retrieves he arrives and gets himself and his cargo settled before Nezu’s return. Although, from the glint in Nezu’s eye, that might not be entirely due to Aizawa’s efforts. Still, he makes no comment of the extra occupant on Koda’s bed even when the rabbit pops it’s head up to peak over Koda at Nezu’s entrance. Nezu leaves without comment, letting Aizawa cling to his dignity.

By the time Koda wakes Aizawa has long since finished the expulsion paperwork and has moved on to getting some grading in.

It’s Koda’s rabbit who notices first, ears flicking up and scooping forward. It climbs free of where it’s nestled itself in the dip between Koda’s arm and his chest, hopping onto his chest, whiskers tickling his chin. The boy blinks awake and stares, baffled, at the rabbit. He sits up carefully, arms coming up to cradle the rabbit so it doesn’t fall.

It takes a moment for Koda to notice Aizawa, eyes wandering around the room before finding him. Aizawa opens his mouth but before he can figure out what to say Koda shifts the bunny to his lap, lifts his hands, and signs “I’m sorry.”

Aizawa closes his mouth. “What for?” he asks, already knowing he’s not going to like the answer.

“I should’ve handled it better.”

Aizawa frowns. “Handled being told people wished you were dead better?”

“No- Yes.” Koda shakes his head and flaps his hands, waving the signs away. “I mean, the bullying in general. It’s not like I shouldn’t have expected it would start happening again eventually” Koda signs on, hands moving faster and faster until Aizawa can barely keep up.

“I mean I’ve always been bullied. I’m weird looking and too quiet and when I do talk my voice is weird for my body so… I should’ve expected it would start happening eventually.”

He’s right. He doesn’t like the answer. “You expected to be bullied at UA.”

Koda nods, slow and uncertain. Aizawa does not sigh. He does not drop his face in his hands no matter how dearly he wants to.

“…How long has this been going on?” Aizawa asks. Koda pauses to think about it, absently petting the rabbit. “Um, maybe not quite three months?”

So not much longer than the first time Aizawa noticed something wrong. Well. At least he’s not so much of a failure of a teacher he didn’t notice something wrong with his students even if he did completely forget to do anything about it.

“I’m fine, really. I can handle this, I promise.” He gives Aizawa a wry little smile like there’s not a million things wrong here.

“Ok first of all, jar again, because this is not fine. You are not fine. Second, Koda I am your teacher. I’m your homeroom teacher. Taking care of things like this is my job-” Koda’s hands twitch up like he wants to say something but instead he just resettles them on his rabbit. Aizawa stops, raising an eyebrow at him and gesturing for him to go ahead.

“It-its just that… before, in all my other schools, the teachers have always said that, well... that I should just ignore it. That they’ll get bored and go away.”

Aizawa feels a burst of anger. “And how did that work out?” he says, doing his best to keep the anger from his voice. Koda grimaces. “Not... great. But... There’s not really a better solution, is there?”

Aizawa puts his growing rage aside and soldiers on. “Of course there is,” he says, picking up the folder of expulsion paperwork. “Your teachers could have done any number of things. They could have separated the bullies from you. They could have moved you to a different class, if necessary. They could have called in the parents of the kids bullying you. They could have suspended the bullies. Or…” he flips the folder open and lays it on Koda’s lap, “They could have done what UA has chosen to do and expel them. Any of that would have been better than doing literally nothing.”

Koda’s eyes go as wide as saucers. “You’re expelling them?” he signs, hands shaking.

“Of course we are. We don’t tolerate that kind of behavior at UA.”

“But… it was just a dumb joke- even if it was a mean one. Won’t their parents fight the expulsion?” And then they'll be angry and it'll be even worse, Koda doesn't say. But Aizawa can practically hear him think it.

“If their idea of a joke is telling another student to go die then they’re clearly not UA material. If their parents want to go up against Nezu then they’re welcome to. They won’t win but I hope they have fun trying.” Koda stares at him, jaw hanging open.

“In short, your teachers sucked, kid. They never should have put the responsibility of dealing with things like this on you.”

Koda, dammit, still looks uncertain. “But, even if I shouldn’t have had to deal with it on my own when I was younger shouldn’t I be able to now? I mean, we've all dealt with worse, right? What are a couple of mean kids to villains willing to kill us?”

Aizawa feels like someone poured a bucket of ice down his costume. Koda won’t look up from the rabbit in his lap anymore.

“Koda, that's not-” he stops and sighs, running his hand through his hair.

This class. They’re going to be amazing, he has no doubt, but damn if they’re not trying to kill him before graduation. Koda wilts in his bed, cradling his rabbit in his lap as he strokes one finger down their head. Aizawa takes a moment to try and get everything in order in his head. Koda beats him to it. His hands picking out his words carefully.

“It’s just that… This whole year. USJ, the summer camp, Kamino. Everyone has faced so much this year. Even the things I was there for I was only ever on the edge of things. I just… I don’t run forward like they do. Some of them. They don’t even hesitate. Sometimes… sometimes I look at them and I think I don’t deserve to be in the same class as them.”

“Do you think I’m a good judge of character?” Aizawa asks. Koda starts, glancing up at him. “I… yes?”

“Then trust me when I say you deserve your place in this class.”

Koda’s eyes fall back down, and he shifts, uncertain. Aizawa raises his hand to his shoulder, squeezing briefly.

“Koda,” he says seriously, drawing his student’s eyes back up. “If I didn’t think you could make the cut I wouldn’t let you keep going. This profession is dangerous. There’s no room in it for people whose skills can’t meet their dreams and ambitions.” Koda stares at him, his eyes wide and a little too watery for comfort.

“Being more cautious than your classmates doesn’t make you a bad hero. Just a different one. You don’t hesitate where it counts. You are every bit the hero your classmates are and you don’t need to prove it to me or anyone else.”

Koda chokes on a little sob and lurches forward. Aizawa finds himself being hugged for the second time today and raises his arms to return it, ignoring the growing damp patch on his shoulder.

“Careful, too much crying and you’ll get so dehydrated Recovery Girl will force you onto an iv.”

A little bubbling giggle makes its way free of Koda’s crying and he pulls back, wiping his eyes. Aizawa hands him a water bottle of the bedside table set there for just this purpose. “You laugh but I’ve seen it happen.” Koda covers his mouth to muffle the laugh that threatens to burst out. Of course that was a student with a tear based quirk but he doesn’t need to know that, Aizawa thinks.

Once Koda is ready, Aizawa gathers him, the paperwork, and the rabbit and herds them all to Nezu’s office.

Nezu sits behind his desk. Koda's mother sits in one of the chairs, Koda's father on a video call pulled up on one of the many screens. Both look significantly weepy. Nezu looks suspiciously ruffled, fur slightly damp. They’re not two steps into the room before Aizawa finds out why as Koda's mother springs to her feet and enwraps her son into an enormous hug. Once she’s done she turns to Aizawa.

“Koda-san” He says. Before he can get more of a greeting out she’s moving forward and pulling him into a hug, weeping above his head and into his hair. Feeling rather like a squashed cat, he awkwardly pats her elbow, the only part of her his trapped arms can reach.

“Thank you,” she cries, “Thank you so much for taking this seriously and actually doing something about it!” she releases him and steps back, smiling in spite of her wobbling lips.

“You’re… Welcome.” Aizawa says, trying to sound less stiff than he feels. Nezu pulls a tissue out of the box on his desk and leans over to hand it to her. She takes it gratefully, blowing her nose and moving back to her chair. Aizawa guides Koda to the chair next to her with a gentle hand on his elbow. He moves to stand next to Nezu as Koda releases his rabbit from it’s carrier to cradle it in his arms.

It doesn’t take very long to finish the expulsion process, pulling up the bullies's parents on their own video calls to inform them of what is happening. They argue but there's no getting around Nezu's iron clad evidence and every one of the people involved in the harassment campaign against Koda is officially expelled within half an hour. After that, all that's left to do is reassure Koda’s parents they won’t be allowing this to happen again with more than a few tears along the way. Enough that Nezu has to reach into his desk and pull out a new box of tissues. Koda is completely exhausted by the time everything is wrapped up. He sways on his feet as his father says his goodbyes to them before ending the video call. Aizawa is half expecting to make a dive for boy and rabbit carrier as they walk Koda’s mother to the gate. But they manage to make it all the way back to the dorm without the boy falling asleep on his feet.

As they approach the dorms Aizawa isn’t the least bit surprised that they don’t even make it to the door let alone through it before someone is throwing it open.

“Koji!” Satou cries as he half tumbles out of it. “You’re back!” Tokoyami follows behind him in a more dignified fashion. “Are you alright?” he asks. Rushing on the heels of his words is Dark Shadow, piping up with “We were so worried about you!” Tokoyami quiets his quirk with a hand on the shadow creature’s head.

“What he said,” Jirou says, leaning against the door frame and feigning nonchalance as if it were obviously someone else’s super hearing keeping an ear out for Koda’s return. Aizawa raises an eyebrow at her. Her cheeks color but she refuses to make eye contact.

Yaoyorozu appears behind her, dropping a hand to her shoulder to hover there delicately. “You seem exhausted… would you like me to make you some tea?”

Satou slings an arm around Koda’s shoulders. “I just pulled cookies out of the oven too! I made your favorites!”

Aizawa watches Koda’s friends, both the ones drawn to him at the start of the year and those that have followed, close around him, shouldering him up and gently herding him inside. A smile threatens to curl his lips. He fights it back, taping Momo on the shoulder before she can follow them. “Don’t let them keep him up too long, he’ll be tired. And I don’t think I need to say it but don’t push him to talk about it either.” She smiles and nods. “Of course, Sensei, and, um, thank you.”

He raises his eyebrows. “For looking after us,” she clarifies, almost jumbling her words together with how quickly she rushes the words out. “You. You always take care of us, even when we don’t make it easy. So thank you.” Maybe he’s losing the fight against the smile that refuses to die. Maybe not. Either way, Yaoyorozu is a good student who won’t tell anyone.

“You’re welcome. Don’t tell your classmates but trouble or not you’re all good kids. It’s worth it.” She smiles back at him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and tucks his face further into his scarf. “Go on and join your friends. I’ll see you all in class tomorrow.”

After she’s gone, retreated back into the dorms to make Koda his promised cup of tea, Aizawa sits down on the bench in front of the dorms. He takes a moment to breathe.

The night bugs sing, a few birds echoing them as they settle in for the night. The wind rustles the trees as the sun dips below the horizon, sky darkening enough for a few faint stars to twinkle through the growing twilight. If he closes his eyes and focuses he can just hear the sound of his kids talking and laughing inside the dorm.

It’s not perfect. Everything isn’t magically fixed just because they got rid of the bullies. Koda won’t be back to normal in the morning- this isn’t the kind of thing someone recovers from overnight. Few things are. But he’ll be okay. He’ll be better than he has been and that counts for something. Iida and Midoriya will bounce back from the shock and upset of witnessing the event. And if they don’t? Well, Hound Dog is a much more capable counselor than he gets credit for. He’ll help them process it and move past it and if he can't he'll find someone who can.

No, things won’t be fine in the morning. But they’ll moving towards it. Aizawa will take it and guard that progress toward okay against whatever next comes at them.

Chapter Text

The fact that Aizawa is expecting the class to behave like a pack of traumatized wolves closing rank around their wounded member doesn’t make dealing with it any easier. It also doesn’t help that Aizawa feels like joining them, honestly. Unfortunately, Such behavior is considered “unprofessional.” Ridiculous.

The next morning starts off about how he expected it to- with a few of his students poking their heads in to check that the classroom is free of any more nasty surprises. Aizawa is honestly not surprised it’s Midoriya and Iida doing the scouting.

But the only surprise they find is that Aizawa is already there, stretched out behind his podium in his sleeping bag. He opens his eyes at the sound of the door sliding open. For a moment he and his students just blink at each other, the students trying to process the disruption of their natural order and Aizawa waiting patiently for them to catch up. Then the boys remember themselves and blurt out hasty if confused greetings.

Aizawa returns their greetings and goes back to his cat nap, entirely unsurprised to hear someone start typing on their phone. No doubt they’re letting the others know it’s clear. Sure enough, Koda comes in not ten minutes later, escorted by a thick cushion of friends. Some look sheepish when they meet Aizawa’s eyes. Others, like Jirou, just raise their chins as if daring him to say something. He doesn’t, of course. Not even when the entire class starts traveling in packs both during and outside of school hours.

Nor does he say anything about their new hyper vigilance toward non 1-A students. It’s not like they’re going around punching other students in the face or anything. It’s nothing he can’t live with. Even if it is a bit like an oppressive cloud has settled over the class.

Even so, by lunch he’s ready to tear his hair out. Mostly because he spends his lunch period dealing with the fall out of Jirou accidentally breaking Shoji’s nose because a business course student said something that might have been slightly mean spirited about Koda. Shoji had to literally pick her up to stop her from breaking the business student’s nose and ended up getting his own nose broken from a stray elbow to the face.

Worse even than that there’s something going on between Midoriya and Bakugo. Well, there’s always something with those two. But it’s something new this time so it takes a while for him to notice what it is.

They won’t look at each other. Won’t speak to each other. It makes for a tension between the two that has Aizawa reaching for his phone and texting the other teachers that if they pair those two up for anything they’re dead to him. The situation does not improve as the week progresses.

Tuesday night sees the formation of the “Nightmare Induced Insomnia Club.” Which means that Aizawa is checking the security feeds one last time before heading to bed when he spies three students out of bed and huddled around in the common room seating area. Shinsou is one of them, which is fine. Because of his insomnia, Shinsou has permission to do whatever it takes to try and alleviate it. If that means sometimes he sleeps on the couches or in an armchair instead of his bed then it’s better than him not sleeping at all. But the other two don’t have permission to have an impromptu sleepover in the common room. Which means he has to put off going to bed to go find out what's going on. Sighing, Aizawa rubs his tired, aching, eyes and grabs his jacket.

The front door of 1-A’s dorm opens quietly but even so when Aizawa steps inside he finds three pairs of eyes already fixed on him. Three bodies already tensed and ready to act though they droop as soon as they realize it’s just him. Aizawa finds himself torn between pride at how good their spatial awareness is in spite of how tired they must be and grief because his students are somewhere they should be safe to relax in yet they’re still so alert that a door opening is enough to set them off.

Aizawa gives no sign of this turmoil as he lets his eyes roll over the three. Shinsou, already resuming a boneless flop, is sharing a couch with Midoriya, who resolutely stares at his own lap. He’s sitting nearly board straight even though Aizawa can already see the starts of bags forming under his eyes. With how early he wakes every morning to work out before school he must be exhausted. So it's surprising and a little weird that Midoriya is sitting so perfectly at attention.

Koda is in an armchair adjacent to Midoriya and Shinsou’s couch, his rabbit flopped across his lap. He’s not sitting in it so much as he is oozing into it, blinking heavy eyes. Still, he does his best to fret around his exhaustion, giving Aizawa a nervous little wave.

“Alright. It’s past midnight. I’m tired. You’re all tired. And only one of you has permission to be out of bed at this hour- and that’s for medical reasons. Explain.”

“Welcome to the inaugural meeting of the Nightmare Induced Insomnia Club, membership is unwilling and attendance is mandatory,” says Shinsou. Aizawa stares at him. Shinsou stares back with the dead eyed stare of someone who hasn’t slept in far too long. Aizawa turns to Koda.

Koda raises his hands and signs “I had a nightmare and came down for tea. I found Shinsou down here so I offered to make him a cup. then Midoriya came down so I offered him some two.”

“And then you all just stayed down here,” Aizawa says flatly.

“Sorry, Sensei! I’ll clean up and go right now.” Midoriya makes to stand only for Shinsou’s leg to shoot out, slamming into the arm of the couch like some bizarre safety bar.

“No,” Shinsou hisses, “If anyone tries to deprive me of “Midoriya’s 101 facts you didn’t know about your favorite heroes asmr” I’ll have to take drastic action.”

“S-Shinsou-san,” Midoriya sputters, face burning so red it’s nearly glowing in the dim lighting.

“I’ve been awake for nearly three days straight, Midoriya! If this is what it takes to avoid getting barred from training again then so be it.”

“But-”

Shinsou sticks his other foot in Midoriya’s face, cutting him off. “No buts! Only rambling!”

Midoriya shoves Shinsou’s foot out of his face and promptly collapses over his leg, arms wrapped around his red face.

Aizawa takes in this scene for a moment as he comes to a decision. “Right. Well. So long as you don’t leave the dorms, make a mess, or disturb the rest of the class I don’t mind if you stay down here if it’s helping. And I want all of you to make sure you tell me or another adult if this doesn’t improve.” The boys agree and Aizawa retreats, locking the door after himself and returning to his own welcoming bed.

He gets up the next morning far, far, too early and checks the security cameras. As his eyes skim over the 1-A common room he finds Koda and Shinsou right where he left them, both covered in blankets.

His first thought is that, judging from the way Shinsou has one leg digging into his own spine with the other nearly over the back of the couch and almost completely perpendicular to his body, he’s clearly not pushing Shinsou as hard as he can in his flexibility training. His second thought, after glancing at the clock and noting that it’s about the time Midoriya is usually out for his morning run, is that he really hopes Midoriya got at least some sleep if he’s sticking to his usual insane training routine. Aizawa encourages his students train hard but Midoriya? Midoriya trains like his goal is to dead lift the planet by graduation.

He keeps an eye on the so called “Nightmare Induced Insomnia Club” over the next couple of days. It gains a few new members popping up once or twice and usually hanging out for maybe an hour or two before heading back to their rooms to attempt sleep. Especially Bakugo, who will come down stairs, see Midoriya, and clench his jaw so tightly Aizawa wonders why he can’t hear it creak. On the other side is Midoriya, who sits tense as a drawn bow and stares anywhere that isn’t Bakugo. That incoming storm aside, only the original three are there every single night so it’s them that Aizawa is concerned about.

At school they’re fumbling, eye bags on everyone but Koda and Aizawa isn’t certain Koda’s rocky skin can even get them. Shinsou manages to scrape together enough sleep that Aizawa doesn’t ban him from training outright but he does force him into a lighter schedule. And if Aizawa went by eye bags alone Midoriya could be Shinsou’s twin. Aizawa fights the urge to sigh loud enough to shake the school. It’s very clear that all three of them need a reminder that asking for help is not a crime.

As class moves forward he mulls over what order to approach them in. He tallies up Shinsou’s burning need to prove himself vs Midoriya’s… general inability to ask for help- ever- alongside Koda’s recent issues. But once he releases the class into the free period of homeroom- the part students like Ashido and Kaminari usually spend doing the homework they neglected the night before- one third of his problem solves itself.

Koda is slowly scribbling away at some kind of school work- probably an essay that isn’t due for at least a week judging by Koda's usual study habits- when Tokoyami approaches. Aizawa keeps one eye on them even as he pretends to be napping away in his sleeping bag.

“What darkness hovers over your aura, my friend,” says Tokoyami.

“Yeah, you feeling ok?” asks Satou, serving as a handy translation to Tokoyami’s elaborate speech patterns. Koda hesitates. For a second his eyes flick to Aizawa, almost too fast to catch. Aizawa blinks impassively, playing up his sleepiness. The angle is bad but he catches Koda sign “Nightmare” and “sleep.” Satou’s face turns sympathetic and Tokoyami nods. Jirou, previously leaning against Kaminari’s desk and laughing at him as he frantically tries to finish what is no doubt next class’s homework, abandons Kaminari to his fate to join Koda and the others.

“What’s up?” she asks the group as she leans against Satou’s desk.

“Koda didn’t sleep much last night,” Satou says.

“Many demons assailed his attempts at rest,” Tokoyami adds. Jirou blinks for a moment, mentally translating the Tokoyami talk, before saying “Ah, nightmares? You gonna talk to Hound Dog about them?” Koda hesitates and Jirou gives him a gentle prod with one of her ear jacks. “Kooooda…” 

Aizawa misses the first part of Koda’s response and subtly adjusts his position to get a better view of Koda’s hands.

“-silly, going to him about a little nightmare- lots of the older students need him for more important things,” Koda signs.

“Yeah, but not being able to sleep from nightmares is important too- even if it is too much for him to handle alone then he’ll just get someone else to help you, right?” Satou says.

Tokoyami nods “Hound Dog is a skilled and experienced artificer of the mind.”

“What he said, plus it can’t hurt to bring it up, right? And if you don’t want to talk to him you can always text one of us when you can’t sleep,” adds Jirou.

Koda squirms for a second, fretting, before nodding. “I’ll talk to him at lunch today, if he’s free,” Koda signs. Aizawa makes a mental note to make sure Hound Dog will be free. Or that there will at least be one of the teachers licensed for therapy available. One third of the current problem down, two thirds to go, he thinks.

He turns his attention to Midoriya and Shinsou. On one hand, Midoriya never asks for help if he can avoid it. And often when he can’t or really shouldn’t try to avoid it. If Midoriya turns to an adult or even just one of his friends for help with his nightmares Aizawa will eat his sleeping bag.

But on the other hand… Shinsou has Insomnia. He doesn’t get enough sleep as  it is to be able to afford to lose it to nightmares as well. And he’s gotten Shinsou to talk about his experiences with bullying at his old schools in the past. He won’t necessarily open up right away. Shinsou has an a need to prove himself as capable of his new classmates that's runs deep. And Aizawa gets it- he really does. He was much the same at Shinsou’s age. Just without the adult figure who believed in him.

So while he’s confident he can get Shinsou to open up and let him help he’s not so sure it’ll happen quickly. Just that it will happen. But… Midoriya can’t necessarily wait however long it takes for Shinsou to give up and accept he needs help. Because while Shinsou will eventually give in Midoriya will run himself into the ground trying to fix it himself and not once turn to anyone for help.

Midoriya is undoubtedly closer to Yagi than he is to him. So Shinsou and then if Shinsou doesn’t crack right away I’ll flag Yagi down and set him on Midoriya. It’s not a perfect plan, Yagi is often too soft on the kid, but he knows he can count on Yagi to do his absolute best to help Midoriya. Hell, with the way those two are he might get lucky and not even have to set Yagi on Midoriya before Yagi realizes something is up with his favorite student himself. Plan made, he finds himself relaxing enough to drift off into a nap.

Aizawa gets his chance to talk to Shinsou during the class’s lunch period, a tap on the shoulder and a tilt of his head pulling Shinsou away from his friends. He leads him to the teacher’s lounge. More than a little used to seeing Shinsou with Aizawa, none of the other teachers give them a second look. He still leads Shinsou into the backroom and closes the door to give them some privacy.

 “You didn’t sleep last night,” Aizawa says as soon as it clicks shut, cutting straight to the point.

Shinsou shrugs, crossing his arms. “Do I ever?”

“Not enough that you can afford to lose sleep to nightmares.”

Shinsou grimaces. "There's not really anything I can do about it so… " He trails off with a shrug.

Aizawa raises an eyebrow. “You could try telling me you’re having issues, to start with.”

Shinsou scowls, eyes cast aside. “I can handle it.”

“And how were you planning to do that?” he asks. Shinsou is tellingly quiet. “You need help-” Shinsou scowls harder “-and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Easy for you to say,” Shinsou says, his crossed arms tightening.

“Do you think I’ve never needed help? I’ve needed help plenty of times in my life though I’ll admit I’ve not always been the most graceful at accepting it. But the important part is that I did accept it.”

Shinsou’s scowl wavers, uncertainty fighting through his customary blankness. Aizawa presses his advantage. “You saw how I looked after USJ right?” Shinsou nods reluctantly. “You think I didn’t get help with those injuries? I had blocks for arms and my entire face was mummified in bandages.”

“But that’s different.”

“How?”

“That was- you got hurt fighting. This is just-” he flips a hand through the air, an ugly kind of smile on his face, “-just me being stupid.”

Aizawa raises an eyebrow. “I doubt you’re being stupid.”

“I am though. I wasn’t there for it. I didn’t see any of it. I only found out because I overheard Koda talking to his friends about it. I don’t even know the details- just that someone left funeral flowers on Koda’s desk. And I’m sitting here tossing and turning and having stupid little nightmares about something that had nothing to do with me!” By the end Shinsou’s hands are down at his sides, clenched in tight fists, and his head is turned away as he glares off to the side. Aizawa watches him for a moment as the pieces come together.

“…You’ve told me before that you were bullied in your previous schools.”

A tight shrug is Shinsou’s only answer.

“You mentioned specifically that your bullies preferred non confrontational methods so they didn’t have to worry about you retaliating.”

“I mean, yeah, mostly because my dad said I should fight back and they’d back off. So I did, but all that did was get me in trouble and then they just started… doing stuff like that instead.”

Aizawa stuffs down the spark of rage that ignites. “You’ve gotten funeral flowers on your desk before.”

“…couple a times, I guess.”

“Then it makes perfect sense that something like this would give you nightmares.”

Shinsou opens his mouth to argue but stops himself and thinks for a moment.

“…okay maybe you have a small point.”

Aizawa gives him a dry look. Shinsou huffs.

“I have been sleeping a little though. Enough to train, at least.”

“I know. I’m not trying to bar you from training. But it’s clear this isn’t getting better on it’s own.”

“I can handle it.”

“There’s no need for you to handle it alone. You’ve got me, the rest of your teachers, and Hound Dog or one of the other counselors. And if you want to talk to someone outside UA that’s easily organized.”

Shinsou wavers, his resolve cracking. Aizawa puts his hand on his shoulder, prompting Shinsou to meet his eyes. “My door is open, Shinsou, whenever you need me.”

“Even when you’re sleeping?” Shinsou jokes.

“Yes,” Aizawa answers seriously without missing a beat. Shinsou’s eyes widen a bit, put of his rhythm by Aizawa’s quick and honest reply. “I want you to succeed, Shinsou. Some lost sleep is more than worth that.” Considering Aizawa values sleep more than money that’s worth a lot. Enough to crumble the last of Shinsou’s defenses. Shinsou’s shoulders slump. His arms stay crossed but loosen so he’s more half hugging himself than anything.

“It… It just, y’know, caught me by surprise. I haven’t had to deal with anything like that since coming to UA. So I guess with how preoccupied I’ve been with transferring and catching up I just sort of forgot to worry about it, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Aizawa says when Shinsou looks up at him for acknowledgement.

“I’ve had to deal with bullies pretty much for the entirety of my life, right? And then I got into UA and… I wasn’t close to anyone in my old class but they weren’t… mean or anything? Didn’t even ignore me, weren’t scared of me- just didn’t treat me different. Like I was just another classmate to them. Then I got into the hero course and aside from Bakugo I don’t think anyone in this class knows what a stranger is. I’ve got actual friends now and- everything has been so different I just… sorta forgot that sort of thing happened.” Aizawa nods, a hand on his shoulder steering Shinsou to the couch. Shinsou sits and Aizawa settles beside him.

Normally he only spends about a quarter of his lunch period actually eating. Another quarter goes to homeroom management and coordinating with other teachers. The final half he usually spends napping. Even so he gladly gives up half of that time letting Shinsou talk about all of the things that have been weighing so heavily on him during the day that they resurface at night as nightmares, making sleeping that much harder for the insomniac. By the end of it Shinsou isn’t quite sold on the idea of therapy but he’s willing to think about it. And he’s at least talking about what’s bothering him even if it isn’t to a professional. That’s enough that Aizawa is willing to call it a success.

Alright, Aizawa thinks, now to tackle the problem child. Naturally this means Midoriya lives up to his nickname and makes everything twice as hard as it needs to be.

Aizawa is perfectly prepared to give up the remaining half of his lunch period to talk to Midoriya. But when he returns to the lunch room he can’t find a head of curly green hair among the crowd- just Tsuyu and some other students that aren’t part of his class. Yagi must have grabbed him for lunch again, He thinks with a sigh, maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll be able to get him to talk.

“Yes, Young Midoriya had lunch with me today. I noticed he looked pretty tired- I wanted to ask if there was anything I could do to help.” Yagi huffs, fond and exasperated, “But he told me he was just up on the hero forums too late last night…” Yagi’s face falls as Aizawa grimaces. “…That’s not what it was, is it?”

“He's been up the past few nights with Shinsou and Koda. They're calling themselves the Nightmare Induced Insomnia Club. Or at least Shinsou is. " The painfully sad look on Yagi's face makes Aizawa regret speaking. "I’m… going to talk to him before their end of day training session. I’ll let you know how it goes.” And then Aizawa makes like an emotionally competent adult and flees. No one is brave in the face of a sad All Might except the most vile of villains, okay?

As the school day comes up on it’s final leg, the bell dismisses the class for end of day training. Everyone jumps up in an excited rush to grab their costumes and get to the gym.

“Midoriya, a word,” Aizawa calls out before the boy can escape out the door with his friends. Midoriya stops, looking surprised and anxious. But when his friends glance back at him, worried, he turns a smile on them and shrugs. They reluctantly continue, casting more worried looks back as they go. Uraraka catches Aizawa’s eyes, gaze flickering from Midoriya and back to Aizawa. He gives her the smallest of nods and she relaxes, relief overlaying her worry. She helps usher the others away, brightly chattering something Aizawa is too far away to make out.

Once the classroom is empty Aizawa turns to Midoriya. Midoriya is watching him right back but the moment Aizawa’s eyes fall on him he… doesn’t quite flinch. But it’s something. Like he’s folding himself up, almost. He’s still meeting Aizawa’s eyes but there’s just something… off.It doesn’t make sense. But then, Midoriya is a tangle of contradictions and every time Aizawa thinks he’s figured them all out he turns around and there’s something else. With a mental sigh Aizawa tucks those observations away for later and focuses on Midoriya’s current most pressing issue.

“The nightmares haven’t gotten better, have they?” Aizawa asks without preamble.

Midoriya stiffens and shifts, hesitating, before finally saying “No, not. Um. Not really.”

“Have you spoken to anyone about them?” Aizawa asks even though he already knows the answer. Sure enough, there’s a long pause as Midoriya wrings his hands together, eyes dropping to them. “Do you want to tell me about them?”

Midoriya doesn’t quite freeze but Aizawa is watching him far too intently to miss how his nervous hand twisting slows. How small and deliberate his movements become. He realizes Midoriya isn’t looking at his hands. Or if he was he isn’t anymore. No, he’s watching Aizawa, eyes just high enough to see him without being obvious about it. Odd, Aizawa thinks, and files that away with the rest of the things that don’t make sense about Midoriya and paint a picture that Aizawa can’t quite make out yet.

“Um, I, well it’s…” Midoriya’s eyes rove as he stutters but never quite far enough that he can’t still watch Aizawa. He knows because Midoriya immediately freezes the moment Aizawa reaches out to sets a hand on his shoulder.

“Midoriya, I’m not going to force you to tell me.” Midoriya’s eyes jerk up and fully meet Aizawa’s again, wide with surprise. I don’t like that, Aizawa thinks. “Do you want to tell me?” he asks.

Something careful comes onto Midoriya’s face and Aizawa doesn’t miss how tense he is under his hand as he softly answers “No, Sensei.” Immediately Midoriya’s eyes drop, any confidence in his posture slipping away as he whispers “Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. They’re your nightmares and you don’t have to tell me about them if you don’t want to. But you need to talk to someone.”

Midoriya grimaces. Aizawa huffs.

“Don’t make faces. If it were one of your friends would you want them to just sit there and suffer?”

“No…” Midoriya mumbles.

“Exactly. Your friends, your teachers, your mother- any of them would be happy to listen.” He pauses and takes a moment to watch Midoriya.

Midoriya stares at his hands, picking at his nails. Occasionally his eyes wander up enough to return to sneakily watch Aizawa. Silent. Aizawa is beginning to hate it when Midoriya is silent. It never seems to mean anything good. What’s with this class and refusing to talk about their problems, Aizawa thinks, disgruntled.

“Whats the worst that can happen, if you talk to someone about this.”

Midoriya shrugs, still silent. Aizawa takes a deep breath, digs deep, and grits his teeth. “Back when I was a little older than you something bad happened and I started having nightmares. Bad ones. It got so bad that I got hurt. Mic and I made a deal then that when I have nightmares I come to him and either tell him about them or get him to book me a therapy appointment.” Midoriya’s head slowly rises until he’s staring straight at Aizawa in open mouthed shock. He crouches until he’s more or less level with Midoriya. “So I might not know what your nightmares are about but I know what it’s like to feel like you can’t talk to anyone about them. And I promise you that no matter what they’re about there’s someone who will listen. So just talk to someone about them. Anyone. Alright, problem child?”

Tears wobble to life in Midoriya’s eyes but he holds them back with what’s surely enormous effort and nods with a soft “Okay.” He gives Midoriya’s shoulder a squeeze and then lets him go, sending him off to join the rest of the class.

He takes a minute or two to get his own things together before following. By the time he gets to the gym they’re training in today Yagi already has them engaging in miniature mock battles, a few people in each group “laying siege” to one another. Aizawa comes to a stop next to Yagi.

The man is practically vibrating and Aizawa isn’t surprised at all when it takes all of two seconds for him to blurt out “How did it go?”

“I talked to him.”

Yagi waits, very nearly fidgeting like a certain nervous student. These two… everyday I get closer and closer to believing Todoroki's crazy theory.

“Went okay. He didn’t want to tell me what they were about but I got him to agree to talk to someone.”

“I’ll try asking him then, maybe after training?”

“Let me know how it-” Their talk is interrupted by a burst of frantic yelling. Both teachers jerk toward the noise to find Satou hauling himself up off Uraraka. Uraraka doesn’t follow him up. Without a word Yagi calls a stop as Aizawa jogs over.

Thankfully, by the time he gets close she’s stirring. Not standing but reaching a probing hand to her side. Satou, nose bleeding and both eyes blackened, hovers over her.

“What happened?” Aizawa asks.

“I landed on her and I heard something crack.”

“M’okay, Its okay, Satou-kun!” Uraraka chirps, her face pallid and gray with pain.

“Jar,” Aizawa says but there’s an odd echo… He stops, turns around, ignoring Yagi’s muffled guaff to stare at his impromptu chorus. He can tell exactly which students called Jar out along with him because they’re all standing there awkwardly with embarrassed faces. Is this progress or just another tactic to drive me insane? he thinks.  

“…Shoji. Take her to the nurse, please. Uraraka, we’ll figure out your fine once Recovery Girl patches you up. And Satou let me see that nose.”

Uraraka whines sadly as Shoji quickly but carefully lifts her up and carries her off.

“It’s fine, Sensei, it’s really not bad,” Satou has the audacity to say around a nose so broken it’s nearly at a ninety degree angle. Aizawa shoots him a glare as he examines it with careful hands.

“Jar?” Satou asks meekly.

“Jar. And I’m sending you to Recovery Girl as well.” he pulls a travel pack of tissues from one the many pockets hidden on his jumpsuit and shoves them in Satou’s hands. “Do you need help getting there or are you good on your own?”

“I can get there okay, It’s just my nose.”

With the excitement over he and Yagi corral everyone back into focusing on training. But because neither 1-A nor Aizawa are allowed to catch a break it’s then that Iida decides that arm breaking is a Deku Squad bonding activity.

He clips a concrete wall running at his top speed, sending him flying off into Asui and Aoyama. Iida shrieks as he goes and Aizawa is already running. By the time he gets there Iida is sitting up and frantically asking Asui and Aoyama if they’re alright.

“Injuries?” Aizawa asks.

“It’s nothing too serious, Sensei,” says Asui just as Aoyama bites out “My sparkles shine on unhindered!” through clear pain.

Iida, the last bastion of his sanity, dashes Aizawa’s hopes to the floor with an “I’m fine, Sensei, but I’m sure I injured Asui-san and Aoyama-san with my careless behavior!”

Aizawa’s eye twitches rapidly. “Try again,” he growls. The trio glance nervously at each other. Well. Aoyama glances nervously at Asui who looks back at him, as fairly blank faced as ever, while Iida is busy looking horrendously guilt ridden.

Aoyama breaks first. “…My arm is a bit more broken than implied.” he says meekly.

“My arm is broken as well,” Asui admits

“Better,” Aizawa says with a nod and then turns his burning gaze on Iida, who drops his eyes, biting his lip.

“Iida?”

“I-it’s broken. And dislocated, I think- but I can bear with it long enough to make sure Asui-

“Call me Tsuyu-chan.”

“T-Tsuyu-ch-san and Aoyama get help first!”

“Unnecessary. Not only is Recovery Girl perfectly capable of handling all three of you there’s also no need for you to punish yourself for a training accident.”

“But… their arms!”

“It was an accident. Besides, at least you didn’t stab them. Though in the future I would prefer if you and the rest of Midoriya’s friends found a better way to bond than breaking bones.”

Iida sputters. Asui lets out a croak that Aizawa takes for laughter and even Aoyama muffles a chuckle with his good arm.

“ …Also that's two hundred yen for each of you.”

The class switches to one on one sparing in the hopes of avoiding sending the entire class to the nurse again. If it doesn’t work Aizawa is fully prepared to blame Yagi and run while Recovery Girl hunts them for sport.

Right now Yagi is out on the training floor, adjusting positions and offering tips. He’s more surprised than he should be at how much Yagi has to teach the students from a tactical and technical perspective. To many people forget that there’s more to All Might than just hitting really hard. With the level of power All Might once wielded there has to be. The man could cause weather patterns with a single punch. Aizawa shudders to think of an All Might with no head for moderation and tactical restraint.

Thirteen taught the students that their quirks have the potential to be deadly. Now Yagi teaches them how to balance on the thin line of holding back enough to not kill or maim their opponent by accident without holding back so much that the people they’re protecting or they themselves are put at risk.

It’s a delicate line, one All Might spent decades dancing on. Aizawa isn’t sure what motivated Yagi to decide to become a teacher and honestly he wasn’t too keen on the idea at first. He’s never been fond of All Might. Appreciated the man and understood his importance, yes. But on a personal level? He didn’t exactly expect to like him. But he likes Yagi and now that the man is getting his feet under him as a teacher he finds himself much warmer towards the idea of teaching alongside him. Yagi has a lot he can teach future heroes, assuming he sticks to it. Aizawa finds himself hoping he does.

Miraculously, the class manages to get the rest of the way through training without any more injuries. They clean up and head back for homeroom. By the time Aizawa dismisses them for the day Midoriya is practically vibrating, no doubt dying to visit his friends in the nurse’s office. He leaps up from his seat and nearly bolts out the door but freezes and turns toward Todoroki at the last moment. Todoroki, heading toward the other students with classroom duties, waves him on with an “Go ahead without me.” That’s all the permission Midoriya needs to bolt out the door and down the hall toward the nurse’s office as fast as he can without technically running.

The teacher’s lounge is the same direction so Aizawa follows after him, intent on snagging a nap and getting as close to catching up on paperwork as possible. That’s how he comes to see Yagi following Midoriya into the nurse’s office. He climbs into his sleeping bag and settles into his desk chair, dropping his head face down onto the desk. Some time later he hears the door to the teacher’s lounge open followed by Yagi and Midoriya’s voices, pitched low out of politeness. The door to the back room opens and closes, swallowing their voices, and Aizawa returns to dozing, mentally crossing his fingers.

He almost dozes off properly before he hears the backroom door open again. Sneakily, he shifts enough to peek out from under his sleeping bag and hair to sneak a look at the pair. Midoriya’s eyes are red and puffy but his face is dry and smiling. Yagi’s hand rests on his shoulder, protective and comforting, and there’s a soft look on his face. Midoriya looks lighter than he has in days.

Good, Aizawa thinks, closing his eyes and finally properly drifting off to sleep.

“There he is!” a too cheerful voice interrupts his napping. Aizawa opens his eyes and thinks of murder, face still smushed into his desk.

“He’s sleeping,” whispers Eri’s soft voice. Aizawa sets his murder thoughts aside for later and lifts his head.

“Morning, sleepy head!” Nemuri says, Eri balanced on her hip. Technically speaking, Eri’s a bit big to be carried around everywhere. But she likes it, in her own quiet way. And the UA staff have determined that if Eri likes something then, if at all possible, she should have it. And so everyone has memorized the subtle cues Eri gives off when she wants to be held and indulge her at every opportunity.

“Yo,” Aizawa says, wiggling to unzip his sleeping bag enough to free his upper body.

“Hi,” Eri answers. She must shift in that minute way that means she wants down because Nemuri bends over and sets her on her feet. Eri slides out of Nemuri’s arms and immediately slips up to Aizawa’s chair, tiny hands settling on the arm of it, scant inches from Aizawa’s hand. He turns his hand over and she grabs it just a bit too fast to be simple habit. Her head is tilted just enough to not be watching his lap, eyes fixed on the desk like she’s trying to keep them there.

“Here, want to come sit with me?” Aizawa asks, angling the chair toward her in invitation. Eri lets out a shaky breath, the tension leaking out of her as she climbs up. He helps her settle, pulling her up and lifting the sleeping bag so she can slide her legs in with him. She grabs the zipper herself, carefully pulling it up and wiggling around until the only thing that’s sticking out is her head.

Nemuri coos and Aizawa looks up to see her quickly tucking her phone behind her back. He narrows his eyes at her. She grins. I was absolutely recording that her smile says. He glares at her, trying to project the thought I know where you sleep. She just grins wider.

“Aw, you two look all tucked up and ready for a sleepover!” Nemuri says. Eri looks up at her, brow crinkling.

“Whats a sleepover?” she asks. Nemuri’s smile doesn’t drop but Aizawa can read her well enough to see the sadness tucked away in her eyes as she explains the intricacies of a sleepover to Eri. She’s still explaining when Yaoyorozu and Ashido come in.

Ashido is pouting. Yaoyorozu’s apologetic but firm expression all but broadcasts the fact that she’s doing class duties with Ashido to make sure they actually get done. But all that is wiped away the moment they spot Eri bundled up in the sleeping bag with Aizawa. Her head, tucked up under Aizawa’s chin, is the only visible part of her.

Yaoyorozu presses a hand over her mouth, eyes sparkling. Ashido is bouncing on the spot so fast she’s practically vibrating.

“So cute…” she hisses. And then she realizes what Midnight is talking about and Aizawa swears he’s about to watch his student clip through the floor out of excitement.

“Oooh! Sleepovers? I love sleepovers!” She practically bounces in place. “Man it’s been sooo long since I’ve been able to have one.” Ashido deflates theatrically, slumping against Yaoyorozu. “Say, vice rep, you like sleepovers?” Ashido asks, face mischievous. Yaoyorozu bites her lip, sensing the trap but still conflicted.

“I’ve… never actually been able to have one myself… but they’ve always sounded like a lot of fun,” she says at last, giving in and letting herself be dragged into the distraction. Ashido’s mischief fades to shock and she gapes at her.

“Oh my gosh, no! We have to throw you one!” Ashido whirls and turns puppy dog eyes on Aizawa. “Sensei pleeeaase can we?”

Half of Aizawa wants to refuse. He already has half the class rotating in and out the common room all night long from nightmares. The last thing he needs is the chaos of a sleepover. But the rest of him thinks about how inspite of being kids his class doesn’t get to act like kids often. It might go a long way to helping them put the Koda situation behind them, he muses. Like a shark sensing blood in the water, Ashido zeroes in on his conflict and delivers a precision strike straight to the weakest point of his armor. If this were training he might not be able to hold back his proud grin.

“Eri-chan, don’t you think a sleepover would be fun?” Fuck, Aizawa thinks. An excited little bounce escapes Eri before she stifles it. “Uh. Um,” she mumbles. Aizawa looks down at her and knows he’s fucked. She’s got her head tilted back, looking up at him. Her eyes are big and round, longing, but the rest of her face is tense with the expectation of being told no. He can feel everyone’s eyes boring into him. “Is it okay?” she asks, shrinking deeper into the sleeping bag.

“Sure,” he says, cursing his inability to deny Eri anything she can reasonably have.

“YES!” Ashido cheers, actually jumping in the air with both hands punching up. Yaoyorozu lifts her hands as if to calm her but there’s no denying the excitement lighting her up as well. And Nemuri? Nemuri is smirking at him.
You’re sooooft, says her expression. He cuts his eyes at her, thinking shut up at her as hard as he can. She just grins wider.

Ashido takes planning the perfect sleepover more seriously than she does her schoolwork. She spends a good five minutes hyping it up with Eri, giving the girl all kinds of ideas of what they might do at the sleepover, before Yaoyorozu remembers herself. She practically wails as Yaoyorozu all but drags her off to finish their portion of the classroom duties but recovers when Yaoyorozu points out there’s plenty of their classmates who will want to be involved too.

When he checks in on the kids that evening he finds them all in the common room. It looks more like people planning a war than teens hanging out. It’s chaos, pure chaos. Satou and Bakugo look nearly ready to go to war over a purposed menu. For a sleepover. The girls and Aoyama are huddled up, ignoring the very loud arguing from Satou and Bakugo as they shoot ideas around at deadly speeds. Midoriya is taking notes, pen moving at blinding speed. He’s already filled three notebooks.

Without stopping his pen’s frantic movement he reaches out and taps Yaoyorozu’s side. She doesn’t even pause outlining the best method to comb potential movies for possible triggers as she activates her quirk, a fresh notebook emerging from her thigh. It drops into Midoriya’s waiting hand just as he fills his current notebook. Midoriya smoothly exchanges the old notebook for the freshly created one with a mumbled thanks. Aizawa watches this entire exchange, dumbstruck.

There are at least four other conversations going ranging from anything from makeover plans to the best way to arrange the furniture for maximum movie watching comfort. Aizawa blinks. No thank you, he thinks, rapidly counting heads so he can retreat before he’s noticed and doubtlessly dragged into the insanity.

Why did I say yes, again? Aizawa wonders as he heads for his own dorm apartment. Then he opens his own door and finds that Eri’s belongings seem to have exploded all over the apartment. Eri herself is seated at the couch with Mirio, watching a video on the laptop with laser focus, her favorite backpack in front of her. Mirio looks up as the door shuts behind Aizawa and smiles.

“Hi, Aizawa-Sensei!”

“What’s all this?” Aizawa asks.

Eri looks up, a nearly comical level of seriousness on her face as she says “Sleepover Research,” and returns her focus to the laptop.

“I see.”

Mirio’s grin widens. “Eri and I are planning what to take on the sleepover, wanna help?”

Part of him wants to point out that it’s a five, maybe ten if you’re slow, minute walk between his dorm apartment and 1-A’s dorm and if Eri really needs anything they can just walk over and get it. But underneath her serious focus Eri looks too excited for Aizawa to seriously consider bursting that bubble.

“Sure,” he says instead, and picks his way over to the couch. Right, he thinks, this is why I’m indulging this insanity.

Chapter Text

EDIT: I COMPLETELY FORGOT

Cat, whom I love and will kill for, made me this 💖💖

https://catlady5001.tumblr.com/post/642316523958108160/highkey-based-off-of-inbrightshadows-amazing-fic

Hopefully the link works bc I'm putting this in on mobile lol

The Super Sleepover Extravaganza, as Ashido names calls it, is all he hears the class talk about for the rest of the week. It seeps into everything. Training exercises become battles between movie choices- students shrieking the names of movies across battlefields and in the middle of fights. And Satou and Bakugo are officially at war over a menu for a sleepover, turning the kitchen into a battlefield of it’s own.

The class has gone as far as rearranging the furniture in the common room to make planning easier. The first time Aizawa sees it he thinks he’s stepped into a war room and not his student’s dorm. It’s enough to make Aizawa almost regret agreeing to it. Almost. Because there’s Eri. Eri who is just as excited if a good bit quieter about it.

Tucked into the front of Aizawa’s sleeping bag is Eri’s new favorite spot. Power loader makes her a lap desk that folds up into a pocket-able square so she can sit there and draw while Aizawa does paperwork at his desk. Every time he feels his sanity slipping, like it does during the third fire this week alone that Satou and Bakugo have set with their arguments or the continued tension between Bakugo and Midoriya, he glances down to see Eri carefully drawing another sleepover themed drawing rendered in neat crayon lines and remembers why he’s allowing this madness.

Though it feels like Saturday will never arrive the week crawls by until it inches up on Friday morning. And then all Aizawa has to do is get through this one last day of school with a class of students so excited he thinks they might be vibrating. The final bell rings and the class scatters so quickly he feels wind whip up. The unlucky souls assigned to class duties speed through them as the others bolt off to finish last minute prep. Aizawa walks slow as he goes to fetch Eri.

Mirio watches over Eri at the teacher’s dorms. He’s doing his best to distract her from her nerves by dramatically lamenting missing her first sleepover due to a long ago scheduled family visit. Eri clings to a bulging fluffy pink kitty backpack with enormous glittery green eyes, a gift from Hizashi and the closest thing they’ve been able to give her to a toy thanks to Chisaki.

Right now it’s clear Chisaki is the furthest thing from Eri’s mind. She’s so excited she doesn’t notice Aizawa come in. But the moment he knocks softly on the wall her eyes snap to him. They brighten and she bounces a little before making a valiant effort to stifle herself.

“Ready to go?” he asks, even though he knows full good and well that she’s packed, unpacked, and repacked that bag over a dozen times and probably did it a few times more while he was working. She nods quickly and he holds out his hand.

“Take lots of pictures for me!” Mirio calls, waving enthusiastically as they go.

In spite of her excitement Eri walks quietly beside him. Aizawa tries not to think about where she learned that, focusing instead on where Eri is today- on her way to her first sleepover and so excited she could pop.

When they reach the dorms half of 1-A is either outside or plastered to a window. A cheer goes up. He knows the moment Eri spots Midoriya, waving at her from where he stands next to Iida, because her composure finally breaks. She bounces on her feet for one brief moment before remembering herself and forcing herself to still. But Aizawa can practically feel the excitement radiating off of her. A smile twitches at his mouth. “Go ahead,” he says, letting go of her hand. With a quiet exhale of relief she bolts toward Midoriya.

“Deku-san!” she cries as she runs. Midoriya grins and kneels to catch her in a hug.

“Hi, Eri-chan!” he says as he scoops her up and stands, shifting her to his hip. He carries her inside. Aizawa follows behind him with her bag, steeling himself.

The plan is for Aizawa to stick around until the evening, just to be sure Eri doesn’t get too nervous and back out. It means he gets pulled into the sleepover shenanigans but it’s a necessary sacrifice to make sure Eri’s first sleepover is a success. Still, he’s glad Nemuri and her vicious camera skills aren’t here to memorialize the lopsided pigtails held in place by glitter clips. His students seeing it is bad enough.

The fact that none of his students make one peep about it gives him some hope for their intelligence. It doesn’t mean he’s unaware of the sneaky pictures they’re all taking. The joke is on them though. If any of this gets out… well none of them are much better off after the “Makeover Spectacular” segment of the “Super Sleepover Extravaganza” and Aizawa has the security footage to prove it.

Still, he makes sure to glare Kaminari down when he catches the boy trying to “subtly” angle his phone toward Aizawa while Hagakure shows Eri how to get the shimmering yellow nail polish on Aizawa’s nails and not his fingers or the furniture.

Midoriya is especially decorated, his mess of curls looking like he stuck his head in a pit of hair clip shaped piranhas. Aizawa is pretty sure Eri managed to get a clip on every single one of Midoriya’s curls thanks to Yaoyorozu providing her with an endless supply. She even managed to wrangle two chunks of his hair into something approximating braided pigtails. They’re too high on his head and weirdly stiff, sticking out like lumpy uneven antennas. Aizawa has plans to “confiscate” a photo from whoever managed to get the best one to send it to Yagi. It’ll make a nice addition to Yagi’s so-called-secret collection.

With the class sparkly enough to make Aoyama weep tears of pride and joy, they move on to other classic sleepover activities. Board games. Card games. Truth or dare.

Scary stories are substituted for fun and/or embarrassing childhood tales, the class having unanimously voted that Eri has been frightened more than enough in her short life.

Yaoyorozu shares the time she met an important business partner of her parents and got so nervous she accidentally spawned so many matryoshka dolls she flooded an elevator. Iida shares the story of how he simultaneously activated his engines for the first time, broke his brother’s collarbone, and lost his first tooth… by crashing into his brother and knocking them both down the stairs… at a hero gala in front of thousands of cameras.

But of all the stories Eri is predictably most enraptured by Midoriya’s story of climbing to the top of the tallest tree in his local park and watching the sun set when he was ten. Midoriya keeps the details on why exactly he decided to climb a tree in the middle of the day and then stay up there until the sun set but Eri doesn’t seem to mind.

“I wasn’t expecting to have to stay up there that long but watching how pretty the sunset looked from up there almost made everything else worth it.”

Aizawa briefly wonders at the slightly odd phrasing but the class moves on, a few more jumping on Midoriya’s trend of tree climbing tales. Eri’s eyes sparkle more and more with every story. By the time Hagakure regales them with the tale of how her preschool teacher thought Hagakure fell in an enclosure during a field trip to the zoo because Hagakure dropped her hat in the tiger pit. It took an hour and six pro heroes before anyone realized Hagakure was fine and had just gotten separated from her class in the reptile house and decided to wander around it until someone came back for her. She was so enraptured by the snakes in the reptile house that she didn’t hear any of the commotion.

There’s no pillow fight, the activity having been vetoed out of concern it might be upsetting for Eri before Aizawa could even step in and say absouletly not. Instead, they plan to watch an extra movie in it’s place. By the time they make it to the movie portion of the Super Sleepover Extravaganza Eri seems pretty well settled in, curled up in Midoriya’s lap and nibbling on an apple fritter as some colorful animated movie plays. Seeing how much Eri’s eyes sparkle at the musical numbers Aizawa sighs and takes note of the title, knowing he’s going to be watching it a lot in the near future.

“Eri, are you good to stay?” he asks in between musical numbers. Eri thinks it over and nods. “Okay then. I’ll see you in the morning. Or if you change your mind or need me at any point- no matter what time it is- you can call me to come get you and I won’t be mad, okay? I’ll come, no matter what it is or when you call.”

He holds her eyes until she nods, ducking her head and watching him from under her lashes with a shy smile. “Alright,” he says and then glances up at Midoriya. The boy nods, firm and serious, and smiles that bright grin that Aizawa knows will one day light up countless hearts. Aizawa returns his nod and stands. He heads out to prepare for a short patrol with just one glance back at the warm lights of the dorm and the silhouettes of the kids within.

He gets ready to go, performing equipment checks and undoing his “spectacular” makeover. Most of it, at least. He leaves the nail polish, deeming it too much of a hassle to take it off. The pigtails and hair clips, however, must go. He can’t sparkle like a disco ball under the streetlights or every villain in the city will see him coming.

Little does he realize, he doesn’t get them all. One clip hides away under his hair until the moment he activates his quirk on a petty criminal. He doesn’t realize what the guy is staring at with open mouthed bafflement until the cop that comes to pick the guy up gives Aizawa the same bug eyed look.

“Um, Eraserhead, sir? You have a, um-” the cop makes an absent flipping gesture at the side of his head. Aizawa reaches up and finds a scratchy piece of plastic under his fingers. He pulls it free. It’s one of the gold glitter ones. He silently tucks it into one of his many pockets, maintaining eye contact with the cop. “…No one will ever believe you,” he says, sending his capture weapon off to the roofs and flinging himself into the night.

Despite the quiet worry simmering away during his entire patrol, the only texts he gets are the check in messages from the class telling him everything is fine and Eri is having fun. A few are accompanied by pictures of Eri. The last one is her passed out in Midoriya’s lap. Midoriya is also asleep, arms wrapped around Eri and head tilted almost ninety degrees back.

Aizawa squints at it and then stifles a laugh as he realizes what he’s looking at. Midoriya’s hair looks like it’s somehow spawned more decorative clips. There’s also ribbons now and it looks like Aoyama let Eri loose on Midoriya with his makeup if the heavily smeared lip gloss and glitter eyeshadow is any indicator. He saves the picture and sends it to Yagi without a single comment. Yagi sends back a “thank you so much,” accompanied by a custom emoticon of the signature All Might smile but weeping tears and with sparkles surrounding it. Ridiculous man, Aizawa thinks as he stares at it, trying to comprehend what on earth possessed someone to make it, let alone for All Might to save it and use it.

When he makes it back to campus he drops in on the dorms, just to check in on them one last time. He finds each and every one of them sleeping in piles around the living room, reminiscent of Shoji and Tokoyami’s ill fated snack run. Only slightly more organized.

Futons and blankets litter the floor, furniture moved back to make room. Eri and Midoriya are still on the couch, Eri tucked safely in the pocket of space created by the back of the couch and the cradle of Midoriya’s body. He can barely see her white hair peaking out from under the blanket wrapped around them and realizes it’s the group shot underground hero blanket. He tries and fails to suppress his soft feelings when he realizes she’s got a tight grip on the portion of the blanket printed with his image.

Stepping away from the couch, Aizawa counts heads, makes sure everyone is sorted with blankets and pillows, turns off the TV, and slips back out the door.

In his own room, he slips the butterfly clip out of his pocket and clips it to the shade of the lamp next to his bed, a private reminder of a warm memory.

When he drops in on the dorms in the morning the common room is chaos. The class and Eri are scattered between making breakfast, eating breakfast, and trying to clean up the mess.

There’s a spot on the wall that looks like someone threw a glitter bomb at it. Knowing Aoyama this is entirely possible. Knowing his class, Aizawa is just glad it wasn’t a more literal bomb.

Kaminari is hopping on one foot, yelping, having stepped on a piece from one of the board games. Aoyama, Hagakure, and Ashido are packing away the makeup, sorting out what belongs to who. Jirou and Yaoyorozu are working together to fold all the blankets. Ojirou is rolling up the futons as the girls clear them. Kirishima and Shoji are carrying the packed up futons and extra pillows to storage. Iida is vacuuming the cleared floor space. Part of Aizawa cringes at the glitter and dust slurry surely infecting the vacuum. If taking care of Eri has taught him anything it’s that absolutely nothing is going to get that glitter out. They’ll be finding glitter years after 1-A have graduated. Asui, Uraraka, and Koda are scouring the room with trash bags, picking up the bigger things Iida’s vacuum can’t get.

The others are gathered around the tables, eating breakfast. Bakugo places a plate of pancakes covered in edible glitter in front of Eri while trying to make eye contact with Midoriya. Midoriya, in turn, aggressively ignores him, focusing entirely on Eri and his own breakfast.

Greetings are called out as one by one the class notices him there. He yawns out his own greetings and seats himself at the table next to Midoriya and Eri. “Have fun?” he asks Eri. She nods, her mouth full of pancakes and her face covered in glitter and syrup. A mug of coffee is slid in front of him and Aizawa looks up to see Bakugo, again trying and failing to catch Midoriya’s eyes as Midoriya aggressively does not look at him.

Hm, don’t like that, Aizawa thinks. These two have butted heads since day one so Aizawa isn’t exactly surprised there’s a new tension between the two now. But this one is different. Bakugo doesn’t seem to ever not be angry so it isn’t necessarily that Bakugo isn’t angry. It’s like it’s not Bakugo’s anger that’s the driving force between this new tension like it normally is.

Midoriya shovels food into his mouth with a single minded focus, eyes on his plate like it’s the only thing in the world. He can practically see Bakugo winding tighter and tighter towards an explosion as Midoriya stubbornly ignores him.

“Thanks,” he says, catching Bakugo’s eyes. He glances quickly to Eri and then looks back at Bakugo, giving him the smallest shake of his head. Bakugo huffs but drops his eyes, grunting out a “You’re welcome,” as he retreats to the kitchen. Aizawa turns to level a questioning look at Midoriya but he's not fast enough.

"Eri-chan, I'm gonna go for my run now that Aizawa-Sensei is here, okay? "

Eri nods, mouth still stuffed with pancakes and Midoriya is gone, sliding out of his chair, slipping his shoes on at the entryway, and escaping out the door so fast Aizawa is a little surprised he doesn't hear the sound barrier crack or spy the tell tale green flickers of Midoriya's quirk in action. Okay then. I guess he doesn't want to talk about it, Aizawa thinks.

Aizawa isn’t sure what set those two off again but as long as they’re not sneaking out after curfew to beat each other up it must not be too bad. Aizawa sighs into his coffee, wishfully imagining tracking down their old teachers to string them up by the ankles and ask them what the hell they did to these two.

He knows what happens to kids with so called “naturally heroic” quirks. They’re lifted up, put on a pedestal. But it’s a double edged sword. All kids need help sometimes but kids with quirks like Bakugo and Midoriya are expected to somehow be perfect. To solve every problem and overcome every obstacle in their way without so much as a single hand helping pull them up.

That’s how Aizawa ends up with students like Midoriya- who never expects to be offered help and behaves like needing help is a personal failing. It also gives him students like Bakugo- who acts like being offered help is a personal attack and implodes if anyone finds out he actually needs it.

Then there’s the mess with Midoriya’s quirk. Forget stringing up his teachers. Midoriya’s quirk counselor is the one he really wants to get his hands on.

Midoriya is by no means lazy. Nor is he stupid and Aizawa has more trouble with him putting too much effort in rather than not enough. There’s just no excuse for whatever bullshit caused the gross negligence of duty that eventually led to Midoriya walking into Aizawa’s class with as much control over his limb shattering quirk as a toddler.

In one class period- one- Midoriya went from shattering limbs to breaking a single finger to use his quirk. Not good but still definite progress. And proof that Aizawa’s first impression that Midoriya is either incredibly lazy or incredibly stupid and possibly both is dead wrong.

So if Midoriya is so willing to try, willing to put the effort in to get the results, why did no one ever even try to help the kid? And it’s obvious they didn’t because if someone had Midoriya would have walked into his class able to at least somewhat use his quirk.

Why did it take at least a decade and getting into the best hero school in the country for Aizawa to do what Midoriya’s quirk counselor should have done when Midoriya was a toddler? Whoever Midoriya’s quirk counselor was Aizawa wants their licence so that he can personally set it on fire. Followed by their head on a platter.

Aizawa is distracted from his burgeoning rage by a tug on his sleeve. He looks down to see Eri looking at him with wide worried eyes. He softens, packing up that rage inducing train of thought for later.

“Sorry, just thinking about something too hard. Made myself mad.”

She searches his face for a moment before settling. “Okay,” she says, and goes back to her pancakes.

Eri finishes eating while Aizawa is halfway through nursing his second cup of coffee. He nudges her toward the bathroom to get cleaned up.

His eyes drift toward the kitchen, now empty of anyone but Bakugo. Might as well try to nip this in the bud if I can, he thinks, and downs the rest of his coffee to give himself an excuse to go into the kitchen.

Bakugo’s eyes flick to him as he comes in. Aizawa gives him a lazy blink and heads for the coffee pot.

“So. You and Midoriya.” He watches Bakugo tense out of the corner of his eye. “What’s happening there?”

“Nothing,” Bakugo snaps, jerking the handle for the hot water and starting to clean up the breakfast dishes. Aizawa says nothing, silently watching and waiting. It takes a few minutes but Bakugo eventually flicks his eyes over and finds Aizawa watching him with an unamused expression.

He growls, frustrated, and furiously scrubs the pan in his hands.

“We’re not fighting.”

Aizawa crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow.

“We’re not!” Bakugo bears harder down on the poor pan. It’s a wonder it doesn’t snap in half under the force of Bakugo’s rage.

“Right,” Aizawa says doubtfully.

“I’m trying to fucking apologize, okay!” Bakugo snaps. Aizawa’s eyebrows shoot so high they nearly vanish into his hairline.

“Apologize for… the fight you’re not having?”

Bakugo gets, if possible, even tenser. He keeps his eyes on the dishes, setting the pan he’s torturing aside to rinse and picking up a pot to torment instead. Aizawa doesn’t rush him.

“We’re not fighting! I just fucking. I realized I did some-” Bakugo bites himself off, growling as he scrubs far harder than necessary. Aizawa waits for him to pick up again. “I was. An ass. In middle school. So now I’m trying to apologize and the fucker won’t look at me and fucking hold still long enough for me to actually do it!” 

Aizawa hums, picking up his coffee and taking a long drink to give himself time to mull that one over. Knowing what he knows about those two plus the typical way society treats kids with powerful quirks … Aizawa can guess that they’ve likely had some nasty fights over the years. And between Midoriya’s habit of avoiding anything negative- unless he’s protecting someone- and Bakugo’s general attitude he can see them leaving things unresolved and trying to brush past it all.

His first impulse is to grab both of them by the collar and shake the problem loose. But he curbs it. It’s better that they at least have the chance to resolve their own fights. He can’t always be there to resolve things for them, after all. So even though he has a terrible feeling this will end badly he just says “Alright,” and drinks his coffee.

Bakugo squints at him. “…Alright?”

“I haven’t gotten any notifications about you two punching your feelings out so I’m assuming you two have this at least somewhat in hand.” Aizawa pauses as he flashes back to the last time they tried to resolve one of their issues.

“. . . But if that changes tell me. Or another teacher. Or go to one of the counselors. Hound dog is good at conflict resolution. Do literally anything other than get into a fist fight in the dead of night again. Or any other time. Don’t fist fight over this at all, actually.”

Bakugo rolls his eyes. “Can’t fight if he won’t stop avoiding me, can I?” he grumbles. Aizawa takes a moment to look at Bakugo. The boy is rough, abrasive, and loud. But right now there’s something almost small about him as he scrubs at the dishes like he’s trying to sand a hole through them.

Aizawa claps him on the shoulder and steps back. “It’s Midoriya, he’ll come around,” Aizawa says as he retreats from the kitchen.

He steps back out into the common room and surveys it. The clean up seems to be going well. Iida is driving himself insane trying to vacuum up all the glitter. Aizawa can tell he’s emptied the vacuum out at least once by the way so much glitter dusts his hands and clings to his front. He winces, imagining how insane Iida is going to drive himself trying to get it all.

As Iida attempts his impossible mission, Ashido and Yaoyorozu consider the glitter smear on the wall, cleaning supplies in hand as they talk over how best to tackle it. Meanwhile, most of the other students part of the first wave of clean ups meander past Aizawa. He can hear stomachs growling even as some, mostly Kaminari, whine about how hungry they are.

The rest of the class gets to work finishing what the first group started. Aizawa watches, amused, as Sero gently pries the vacuum away from Iida and nudges him toward the kitchen. Shinsou takes over the cleaning of the glitter smear from Yaoyorozu and Ashido. Satou, Shouto, and Tokoyami get to work putting the furniture back in their rightful places. It’s a quiet domestic scene. So why does he feel like something is wrong?

He looks over the room again with a more careful eye and starts counting heads. He comes up short six students. I know where Midoriya is but that still leaves Asui, Uraraka, Koda, Aoyama, and Hagakure unaccounted for. He turns back to the kitchen. “Where did the others get off to?”

He doesn’t direct it toward anyone but he’s not surprised when it’s Yaoyorozu and Iida who answer.

“Um… Tsuyu-chan, Uraraka-san, and Koda-san are taking the trash to the dumpster…” starts Yaoyorozu.

“And Aoyama-san and Hagakure-san are putting the make up away!” Iida finishes.

“And Midoriya went on his morning run,” Aizawa says. That’s twenty so what’s- His thoughts dissolve around a spike of panic as he finally places what’s bothering him.

His head jerks toward the tables next to the kitchen. Several students are settling in to eat but Aizawa’s eyes move past them to Eri’s empty chair.

“Where is Eri.” The last he saw her she was headed toward the bathroom to wash her hands. She should be back by now.

The relaxed atmosphere vanishes as every eye jerks toward Eri’s abandoned plate. Aizawa may as well have yelled bomb.

“Eri?” he calls out. His nerves are rising but even so he forces himself to remember not to raise his voice, keeping his tone as calm as possible. But there’s no answer. No tiny footsteps. No little head of white hair rushing toward him. Eri always comes when someone calls her. Always. He takes quick steps to the ground floor bathroom, knocking on the door and calling again “Eri?” Still no answer. He opens the door and finds the room empty, the only sign Eri was ever here the faint traces of glitter clinging to the little stool she uses to reach the sink with more smeared around the sink itself. He curses softly and rushes back to the common room.

His students are busy pulling the common room apart looking for her but they freeze, every eye turning to him, when he returns. “Did anyone see where she went?” heads shake. “Spread out, start looking.”

He knows he’s panicking and it’s stupid. Just because she isn’t where she’s supposed to be doesn’t mean she’s missing. But she didn’t answer when he called her. And she always answers.

“Ashido-san, Jirou-san, lets check the girl’s side!” Yaoyorozu says, running toward the stairs. The two girls follow her without hesitation.

Iida takes over, rattling off names and sending the rest of the students scattering through the boy’s side of the dormitory and down through the basement gym and utility rooms. “I’ll call Uraraka-san and have her get Tsuyu-chan and Koda-san start looking outside! And Midoriya-kun, just in case she went after him. Don’t worry, Sensei! We’ll find her!”

Aizawa doesn’t answer him, too caught up in his worry, but it doesn’t seem like Iida is waiting for one since he rushes off, phone at his ear, without waiting for Aizawa to respond.

He’s freezing up. He’s a pro. He can’t be- shouldn’t be- freezing up. He’s been in far higher stake situations than one little girl wandering off. She probably just slipped out into the garden or something and Aizawa is freaking out both himself and his class for no reason.

Footsteps on the stairs have Aizawa’s head jerking toward them and he forgets his self deprecating thoughts. Yaoyorozu comes rushing into view, practically tripping over her own feet. “She’s not up in the girl’s side but the others are going to check agai-” Yaoyorozu’s eyes land on something over his shoulder and go wide as her breath audibly catches. Aizawa whips around.

He sees the shoe first. A bright and shiny red that stands out against the green of the grass as it bounces to a stop underneath the large tree that shades most of the dorm’s back yard. He looks up for what feels like a century until he spots her.

Eri’s feet kick at open air as she scrabbles for purchase, desperately clinging to the branch. “Eri,” he breathes, already moving. Aizawa runs for the door, eyes fixed on her. Before he can reach it her eyes meet his, all panic and fear, as she loses her grip and drops.

There’s nothing calm about the way he screams “Eri!” Distantly he hears several students echo him. If he didn’t know the glass is made to withstand a rocket fired at point blank range he’d go straight through it and damn the consequences. Instead he’s forced to waste precious time flinging the door open. He’s never run so fast in his life.

Eri screams. Maybe it’s the falling. Maybe it’s the fear. Maybe it’s the hideous crack as she bounces off one of the thick branches.

His eyes follow every moment, every bounce and breaking branch, as he calculates the distance between him and her and the ground. He’s not going to make it. He can’t make it. He pushes himself faster in defiance of that knowledge even as he watches her body rush to meet the ground, already flinching in anticipation for the sound of impact.

Instead, there’s a flash of green, sparkling and bright as lighting and twice as fast as Midoriya appears out of nowhere and dives for Eri, catching her so close to the ground that Aizawa is sure he must scrape his arms against the dirt. He wraps his body around her, protecting her as they go skidding across the garden, gorging a trail through the lawn. Aizawa has never been so glad to see the lightning crackle of Midoriya’s quirk in his life. He hopes he never has to be so happy to see it again.

“I’ve got you! I’ve got you, it’s okay, Eri-chan, it’s okay,” Midoriya babbles, cradling Eri close as she breathes tight, short, breaths, one arm cradled close and the other tightly clutching Midoriya’s shirt.

“Is she alright?” Aizawa gasps out, dropping down next to the pair. “Eri, are you alright?” he asks before anyone can answer.

“I’m fine,” she whispers. She’s not quite crying like most children would be but her eyes are bright and shiny with the threat of tears.

“Sensei, her arm…” Midoriya says, face heartbroken.

“Eri, did you hurt your arm?” he asks. She wilts and nods with a wet sniffle.

“It’s best not to move her until we know her back and neck are okay, right? Should I call Recovery Girl?” Yaoyorozu asks. Aizawa looks up to find the rest of the class hovering over them.

“Yes. Also I need the-” before he can even finish his sentance Iida is stepping forward, holding up the first aid kit. Yaoyorozu pulls out her phone and steps away to make the call. Aizawa opens his mouth to ask for an ice pack then thinks better of it and just looks for Todoroki. He finds the boy already smoothing out a large hunk of ice into a more manageable shape with Uraraka holding a towel to wrap it in. As his heart slowly stops trying to jump out of his chest he takes a moment to be proud of of his students.

Aizawa gently wraps Eri’s arm in a splint and accepts the towel wrapped ice from Uraraka. It won’t take Recovery Girl long to get here so it isn’t, strictly speaking, necessary to splint Eri’s arm while they wait but he’d rather be safe than sorry. He sends everyone but Midoriya, who can’t move without shifting Eri, back inside to give Eri some space. They go but he doesn’t miss the way they leave the door open a sliver or how often they pass by. But he lets it slide.

It doesn’t take long for Recovery Girl to arrive. She’s gentle with Eri, leaving her customary white lab coat behind and using blue gloves instead of white to avoid as many connections to Overhaul as possible. The first thing Recovery Girl does is confirm Eri has no neck or spinal injuries. The second thing she does is examine Eri’s arm. The third is lead Aizawa away to deliver the worst news so far.

“She has to go to the hospital.”

Aizawa’s heart drops. “There’s no way to avoid it?”

Recovery Girl shakes her head, looking sad. “It’s a clean break but she needs a cast. Children her age don’t have enough stamina for me to heal a broken bone completely. And with her history she has much less stamina than most. I don’t dare risk it.”

They both know how Eri will react to the news. Recovery Girl wouldn’t be saying this if she hadn’t already considered and discarded all other options.

Aizawa closes his eyes, jaw clenched. This is… not going to go well, he thinks. “She’s not going to take it well.”

“No, but we don’t have a choice.”

“Sensei?” comes the ever steady voice of Asui. Aizawa turns, Recovery Girl mirroring him. Asui stands off to the side, looking oddly fidgety. “I have something that might help, if it’s okay with you?”

Honestly at this point I’d take just about anything, even if it only helps a tiny bit.

“What is it?”

“I know Eri-chan isn't great with being given fancy toys as gifts but do you think it would still scare her if I let her borrow Paddy-chan? "

". . . Paddy-chan? " He asks. Asui nods.

"He's my toy otter. I've had him since I was small and he always went to doctor appointments with him. When I grew out of needing him for that I would lend him to my siblings when they were scared. I think it might help Eri feel better about the trip, as long as you think it won't scare her. "

It's a good idea. A risky one but good.

"I promise he doesn't look anything like something they would have tried to give her. He's too well loved for that. "

". . . It's worth a shot, " Aizawa says hesitantly. Asui nods. "I'll go get him while you break the news to Eri-chan. "

Explaining to Eri that she has to go to the hospital, a place that rightfully terrifies her, is one of the most painful things he’s ever had to do. He watches, helpless to do stop it, as she starts to tremble, tears beginning to run down her face despite the way she bites her lip to try and hold them back. She's well on her way to a panic attack when Asui returns.

Eri, still tucked folded tightly into Midoriya’s arms, has her face buried in her hands as she breathes in fast little pants. They’ve tried to get her to follow their breaths, talk her down, but it isn’t working.

Asui crouches in front of Eri, holding a plush otter toy sewn into the classic teddy bear pose. The toy is, to put it politely, well loved. It was probably a rich, dark, brown with a creamy belly at some point but those colors have long since faded to mere shades of their former selves.

The tail is floppy but doesn’t look like it’s meant to be. The only stiff part of it left is the end, where it looks like someone tore chunks out of it and tried to clumsily sew it back up. The left fore paw and left ear have been replaced with bright green velvet and don’t quite match their counterparts in size and shape. The velvet itself is worn smooth in places, evidence of many anxious hands.

It’s plastic nose has been rubbed free of it’s color everywhere but the very edges and the deepest dips. It’s mismatched plastic eyes are slightly askew in a way that tells Aizawa they were hand sewn in by an inexperienced hand.

Asui crouches in front of Eri, holding the toy in front of her. With one hand she manipulates a plush arm to reach out and gently pat Eri’s head.

“Oh no! What’s wrong?” Asui asks, manipulating her voice into something higher and softer. Eri startles, opening her eyes and pulling her face out of her hands. Her eyes land on the toy and she goes still. Aizawa forces himself not to tense, knowing that even if she’s not looking at him Eri is paying attention to how he reacts.

“Oh! I forgot to introduce myself!” Asui makes the otter toy bap it’s soft paw into it’s head, like it’s gently slapping itself in the forehead.

“Sorry, little one! My head is all full of fluff so my memory isn’t too good!” Asui makes the toy tuck it’s arms in and bow.

“Hello! My name is Paddy-chan! I’m Tsuyu-chan’s friend! It’s nice to meet everyone!” Asui says in Paddy-chan’s voice. Eri stares for a long moment, eyes flicking from Asui to the toy and then from Aizawa and back to the toy.

“Hi Paddy-chan! My name is Midoriya Izuku! It’s nice to meet you!” Midoriya says, shifting Eri in his lap so he can make a little bow back to the toy. Asui makes the toy bow to Midoriya. Then Asui turns the toy to face Aizawa. Eri is watching him. Midoriya has his biggest pleading eyes on him. Asui’s face is as blank as ever but the way she looks at him is expectant and imploring. The rest of the class has given up on pretense and is gathered around the sliding door. Aizawa meets Eri’s teary eyes, full of confusion and looking to him for guidance. Good bye reputation, he thinks, and throws his pride into the trash.

“. . . Hello Paddy-chan. I’m Aizawa Shouta. Pleased to meet you.” He bows to the toy. Asui makes it bow back and chirps out a “pleased to meet you!” in the Paddy-chan voice. She turns the otter back to face Eri and makes it tilt it’s head and lift one paw to it’s face as if it’s curious.

“Um… I’m Eri… Pleased… pleased to meet you?” she gives the toy a little unsure bow, looking to Aizawa. He nods to her and she relaxes, looking back to the toy.

Asui makes Paddy-chan clap it’s paws together. “Oh you’re Eri-chan! Tsuyu-chan says you’re very nice!” Eri blushes and drops her eyes. “But you seem very sad right now… Eri-chan what happened?”

“I- I fell and I got hurt and now I have to- I have to go- s-somewhere bad…” Tears gather in Eri’s eyes again and a fine tremble runs through her.

Asui makes Paddy-chan gasp, little plush paws coming up to it’s mouth. “The hospital?” she makes the toy ask. Eri blinks back tears, face miserable, and nods

“Oh no, Eri-chan! That sounds really scary!” Asui makes the toy shiver violently. Eri drops her eyes to her lap.

"It sounds as scary as the time I had to go to the Teddy Bear hospital!"

Eri glances up, eyes widening. "Toys go to the hospital too? "

Asui makes the toy nod. "I was playing with Tsuyu-chan when I fell out of her bag and a really big dog grabbed me!"

Eri gasps.

"I was so scared! But Tsuyu-chan rescued me and took me home! Then her mom sent me to the Teddy Bear hospital!"

"Why. . . Why couldn't they just fix you at home? " Eri asks, eyes flickering to Aizawa for the briefest second and her voice breaking on the word home. Aizawa feels his heart threaten to crack in half.

"Well. . . " Asui makes Paddy-chan tap it's chin. "I suppose it was because I was hurt so bad I needed more help than usual. . . See look at my paw!" Asui makes Paddy-chan lift the arm with the green paw up. "That silly dog messed up my paw so bad they had to replace it! My ear too!" Asui makes Paddy-chan reach up and touch it's mismatched paw to it's mismatched ear.

"Did it. . . Did it hurt? " Eri asks softly.

"A little! But not much as staying hurt would’ve. "

Clever, Aizawa thinks, pride swelling at his student’s clever plan.

Eri fidgets. "It's still scary though. . . "

Asui makes Paddy-chan nod and droop theatrically. "It is, isn't it? Hmmm. . . There's got to be some way to make it less scary. . . " Asui makes Paddy-chan mime thinking hard, plush arms crossed.

"Paddy-chan I have an idea, " Asui says in her own voice. She makes the toy turn to her and say "What is it Tsuyu-chan? "

"Remember how when my siblings were small they’d always get scared of going to the doctor? "

"Of course! I always used to go back with them until they weren't scared to go anymore- oh! Tsuyu-chan that's brilliant!"

"Only if Eri-chan wants to, of course. "

"Of course!"

Asui turns Paddy-chan back to face Eri. "Eri-chan! You know, I used to help Tsuyu-chan and her siblings when they were too scared to go to the doctor! So what if I went to the hospital with you? Tsuyu-chan won't mind if you borrow me for a few hours! And when you're scared you can hug me as tight as you need and it won't hurt me at all!"

"It's true!" Midoriya says when Eri hesitates. "Soft toys like Paddy-chan are great for hugging when you're scared! It's like they soak up the fear!"

"If. . . If Froppy-san is really ok with it. . . I could. . . Just to borrow? "

"Of course! I don't mind at all, Eri-chan!" Asui passes Paddy-chan over to Eri. Midoriya helps Eri adjust her grip so she's holding the toy tight in a one armed hug. Eri squeezes the toy and let's out a shaky breath, settling.

"It works. . . " she whispers, eyes widening. Aizawa allows himself the luxury of feeling relieved.

"Thank you, Froppy-san, " Eri says.

Asui smiles, eyes crinkling shut. "You're welcome, Eri-chan. "

He manages to get Eri into the car and to the hospital. Even with her face buried in Paddy-chan’s fur and never straying from either his arm or Midoriya’s Eri is terrified and miserable. But she doesn't shut down, which is all he can hope for.

The hospital is at least smart enough to assign Eri a doctor who worked with her during her post rescue stay, which helps. But mostly it's Paddy-chan helping the most. Eri spends as much time as possible hiding her face in it's fur and hugging it as best she can with one usable arm.

It's leagues better than Aizawa was expecting. But most importantly, there's an unexpected boon that comes from the trip.

Since her rescue Eri has not once asked for anything. Ever. So when the doctor tells Aizawa and Midoriya they need to wait outside he takes one look at her fearful face and gets ready to argue. But then Eri, shaking like a leaf and head down as she hides behind the toy, lifts Paddy-chan up and says "Um! D-doctor-san! H-hello, I'm Paddy-chan, an-and E-Eri wants her- um wants Eraserhead-sensei and Deku-san to stay!" Her voice shakes as much as she does but he can tell she's trying to mimic the voice Asui used when "Paddy-chan" was talking.

He can hear Midoriya muffle a gasp and knows if he looks over at him now the boy will be biting back happy tears. The doctor's eyes widen and flick to Aizawa. He can’t take his eyes off Eri, hiding behind Paddy-chan but still taking this enormous step forward in spite of her fear. Pride fills him and he wonders at the resilience of this child who has suffered so much. He's not the hugging kind usually but if Asui were here right now he thinks the impulse to would be too strong for him to overcome.

"Of course!" says the doctor, knowing what a breakthrough this is for Eri. Surprise and relief war on Eri’s face. She tucks Paddy-chan back under her chin. As the doctor continues her work Aizawa looks over to find Midoriya biting his lip, an enormous grin wobbling on his face and tears flowing freely down his cheeks. Silently, Aizawa grabs a tissue box off of a counter and hands it to him, squeezing his shoulder and nodding when the boy grins up at him.

It's like a damn breaking. "Paddy-chan" asks for all the things Eri is too scared to. He's not happy Eri was hurt and has to face something that scares her so badly but he's not sorry she got this breakthrough.

They leave the hospital with Eri’s broken arm encased in a bright red cast- something that nearly brought Midoriya to tears again. She’s so worn out that he has to carry her to the car. But even nodding off she keeps a firm grip on Paddy-chan. Aizawa makes no move to slip the toy away from her, even when she falls asleep before they even get to the car.

Eri sleeps through the drive back and Aizawa carrying her onto campus but begins to stir as they approach 1-A’s dorm. Aizawa means to carry her past it to the teacher’s building but that plan crumbles when he spots wisps of smoke far too close to 1-A’s dorm for his liking. He knows Midoriya spots it at the same time as he does because the boy vanishes in a rush of green sparks before Aizawa can tell him to stay with him.

Eri quickly wakes the rest of the way up when Aizawa begins to run. He’s nearly there when Midoriya returns in another rush of green sparks.

“It’s not the building,” he says.

“Then what is it?”

Midoriya freezes and shifts awkwardly. “Um… it’s best you see for yourself…” Aizawa flips through ideas of what on earth his problem class possibly could have gotten up to in the few hours he was gone with the main source of chaos with him. One idea in particular stands out. They didn’t.

They did.

Todoroki stands in the courtyard steadily icing the burning crater where the tree Eri fell from once stood. Smoke twines up from the hole, embers protesting as they’re smothered by the ice. Todoroki looks up.

“Ah, You’re back.”

“What. Happened.”

Todoroki looks at the smoking crater and then back at his teacher.

“I’m supposed to tell you it was an accident.”

Only the fact that his hands are occupied holding Eri stops him from planting his face in them. He opens his mouth but before he can get a word out the door to the courtyard flies open and a stream of students pour out. Kirishima

“They’re back!” yells Kirishima, loudest amidst the excited exclamations from the crowd.

Eri squirms slightly and Aizawa reluctantly puts her down, hovering just in case she’s too tired to stand. Asui squeezes her way to the front. “That’s a very pretty cast, Eri-chan.”

Eri smiles shyly, tucking her face down into Paddy-chan’s fur.

“It’s red. Like Deku-san’s shoes.” Behind her, Midoriya buries his bright red face in his hands. Uraraka comes up beside him to pat his shoulder, grin teasing.

Asui nods. “You’re right, they’re exactly the same.” With a mischievous glint in her eyes she turns to Midoriya and says “Midoriya-chan you should sign it for her.” Midoriya makes a sound like a deflating balloon. The whole class starts voicing their agreements. Eri grabs Aizawa’s pants and he looks down at her. “What do they mean?” she asks.

“It’s a common thing for people to sign someone’s cast, especially friends or family.” Eri’s eyes sparkle and she fidgets. Holding Paddy-chan up in front of her and turning toward Midoriya she says “Deku-san will you please sign Eri-chan’s cast?”

A wave of Surprise and excitement moves through the class. Jirou slams a hand over Kaminari’s mouth before he can let out an excited exclamation. And Bakugo, standing at the edge of things, quickly snags Kirishima in a headlock to keep him from yelling in excitement. Uraraka bounces with excitement, grabbing Iida’s arm and shaking it so violently his whole body sways.

An enormous smile grows on Midoriya’s face and his eyes shine that slight edge of too shiny that always preludes his tears. But he keeps them held back and says “Of course! I’d love to!” in a choked up voice. Before he can do more than shift, looking for something to do the actual signing with, Yaoyorozu is there. She pulls a thick black marker from her arm, perfect for the uneven surface of the cast. He grins at her and thanks her. Midoriya writes his hero name out onto Eri’s cast in thick, blocky kanji.

“Ahhh it came out kinda big? Sorry, Eri-chan, I don’t have a lot of practice signing casts!” Midoriya bites his lip.

Eri shakes her head. “No. It’s perfect. I love it, thank you.” Someone muffles a squeal. She glances shyly at Aizawa. He holds his his hand out and Midoriya hands him the marker. He signs her cast, obeying “Paddy-chan’s” request to sign a little far away from the big Deku so Eri can save it when the cast comes off.

Ashido, clearly at her limit, blurts out “Eri-chan can we all sign it? I promise we won’t mess up your Deku signature!”

“Or the Eraserhead one, he’s underground so it’ll be even more valuable than Midoriya’s will be,” Shinsou says. Aizawa gives him a narrow eyed glare but the little brat just grins. He also pretends not to see Midoriya give Eri’s cast a longing look.

Eri shyly accepts. Yaoyorozu goes first, drawing black rectangles around the Deku and the Eraserhead to keep them safe before signing herself. Signature by signature Eri’s cast fills up until the only empty spaces are the safety rectangles around the Deku and Eraserhead signatures. By the time they’re done Eri is struggling to stay awake.

“Ok, I think it’s time for a nap,” Aizawa says, bending down to pick Eri up.

“I have to pay the jar first,” Eri mumbles into his shoulder.

“Ah?”

“Because…” Eri yawns, drooping a little bit more, “Because I said I was fine but I wasn’t.”

She doesn’t, since she’s not part of 1-A, but at the same time he’s not going to discourage her from practicing a good habit. “Alright,” he says, and carries her to the dorm’s kitchen.

He pulls the jar within her reach as she sleepily pries herself off his shoulder. “Can I…” she shifts and pulls Paddy-chan, still tucked against her chest, forward, and shifts her voice higher. “Can Eri-chan borrow yen for the jar, please?” she asks through Paddy-chan.

“Of course,” Aizawa says as he fumbles for his wallet. He gets the coins out for Eri and hands them to her. She carefully slides them through the slot in the lid. They join the rest and he carries her from the kitchen.

“I have to give Paddy-chan back to Asui, she’ll miss him.”

Aizawa doesn’t think Eri is going to manage to stay awake that long but he stops and starts looking for Asui anyway.

Sure enough, by the time he finds her out in the courtyard helping turn the crater where the tree once stood into a small pond Eri is out cold.

“She wanted to return Paddy-chan,” he says, gently tugging the toy free and holding it out to Asui. “Thank you for lending it to her.”

Asui nods and takes it, tucking it in the crook of her own arm. “I’m glad he could help. Maybe there’s some way to safely get her a stuffed toy of her own? Since Paddy-chan helped so much. But if not she’s welcome to borrow Paddy-chan again.”

Aizawa hums and nods. “I’ll have to look into it. Thank you again.”

The next day in class, before he can do more than take roll, Iida stands and bows sharply to him. “Aizawa-sensei the class wanted to apologize to you for letting Eri get hurt under our care! We’re sorry for letting you down!” The rest of the class stands and bows as well. There's more than a few curled shoulders in the crowd.

I should have seen this coming, he thinks. Considering he’s struggling not to blame himself for not keeping a close enough eye on her of course his class is blaming themselves.

"Sit down, " he says, trying to sound at least a little bit gentler than usual. "There's no need to apologize. Eri is fine. " The class hesitates. "But, if we'd paid more attention-"

"Is it my fault too, then? "

Iida blanches "No, sensei! Of course not!" A wave of denial follows him from the class. Aizawa nods.

"Then it can't be any of your faults either. You can't prevent every bad thing from happening. You can only control how you react to them. And every single one of you reacted perfectly. Iida, Yaoyorozu, you both organized the class quickly. The rest of you fell in line perfectly, listening to your leadership without wasting time on arguments- which is more than I can say for a lot pros. If you all hadn’t been so fast Midoriya wouldn't have been called back fast enough to catch her and prevent her from being hurt a lot worse. "

He doesn't need to remind him how close of a call it was. One wasted second and. . . he doesn’t really want to think about how much worse it could have been. "I'm. . . " I have to say it don’t I? Ugh. Fucking emotions. Disgusting. "I'm proud of you all for how well you handled this. "

Yaoyorozu performs the incredible feat of bursting into tears before Midoriya. Several other students follow them. Fuck, he thinks. "Ok. Alright. Just. . . " Goddammit I only have one tissue box what was I thinking. He grabs the box and all but throws it at Iida. "Iida pass these out to whoever needs them. I'm moving forward with homeroom. " Iida removes a few tissues and tucks them into his pocket. Midoriya pulls a small tissue box out of his bag and shares them with the students near him. Well. That makes sense. Thank fuck. Yaoyorozu, still crying heavily, starts pulling individual tissues from her shirt and passing them to the students near her. "Thank you, Sensei, " croaks Yaoyorozu, sounding more like Asui than herself.

"You're welcome, " He says awkwardly. "Don't mention it. Literally don't. We're pretending this never happened. "

"Kaminari, sniffling with sparks flickering, raises his hand and says "Are you still-"

"Yes. Now pretend this never happened. We have homeroom business to get to. "

But apparently at least one of his students don't understand what pretend this didn't happen means if Hizashi's relentless teasing is any indicator. As Hizashi gleefully recounts what the students told him to the rest of the teachers Aizawa zips his sleeping bag over his face and plots what he's going to do to the students who blabbed. He already knows what he's going to do to get back at Hizashi.

I just need a good enough bribe to get Nezu to let me use the misprinted banana mic design.

Chapter Text

Two weeks pass peacefully. Well. Peacefully for his class, anyway. Which means that they somehow manage to avoid getting hurt bad enough to require hospitalization. Or bad enough to need hospitalization if not for Recovery Girl.

Meanwhile, the tension between Bakugo and Midoriya grows like a storm peaking over the horizon. But neither boy will talk about what's causing it and violence hasn't broken out so there's nothing Aizawa can do but batten down the hatches and wait.

And then, well… he remembers the class hovering around Koda like a pack of wolves closing rank around their wounded member. Remembers thinking “It’s not like they’re going around punching other students in the face or anything.” They've mostly eased back on that. Which apparently is just the universe lulling him into a false sense of security.

Because after two weeks of as close to peace as 1-A gets Midoriya punches Monama in the face.

...He really needs to stop tempting the universe. It’s always up to give him a headache or twenty. Twenty specific headaches.

When Vlad knocks on on the door frame of the teacher's lounge and calls "Aizawa," it's all he can do not to groan out loud. He contents himself with a deep sigh and sits up.

"Who's bleeding?"

"Midoriya's knuckles and Monoma's nose."

Aizawa takes a moment to process that as he extracts himself from his sleeping bag.

"...Midoriya punched Monama in the face?"

"Yep."

"...why did Midoriya punch Monama in the face?"

"Don't know. I was too far back to hear anything but knowing Monama he said something he shouldn't have and then kept pushing it until... Well." Vlad shrugs. "That beefy kid of yours- the square one- pulled Midoriya back before he could hit him again but that didn't stop your kid from glaring at Monama until Kendo dragged him out of sight. Monama hasn't stopped ranting about your class long enough to get out what happened and when I tried to ask Midoriya he burst into tears."

Aizawa does groan this time, scrubbing his hands over his face.

"Not fake 'get out of trouble' tears either. Real ones. He was still crying when I left him with your class president."

Aizawa groans harder. Alright. Damage control time, he thinks. He grabs the tissue box off Mic's desk. A second thought has him leaning back to snag a water bottle as well.

"Alright, I'm going, I'm going."

Vlad claps his shoulder as Aizawa passes him. "Good luck!"

Aizawa just grunts.

Midoriya is, indeed, still crying when Aizawa reaches the classroom. He’s unsurprised to see Uraraka holding Midoriya’s hand while Iida’s arm wraps around Midoriya’s shoulders. He's not bawling but the jerky little hiccuping breaths mixed with the slowly dripping tears of someone trying not to cry and failing miserably is almost worse. This is going to royally suck, Aizawa thinks. At least someone has already dug into the class stock of tissues.

The trio look up as the door to the classroom closes behind him. The three of them straighten immediately though Uraraka keeps hold of Midoriya’s hand and Iida shifts to keep one hand on Midoriya’s shoulder.

"Sensei, it wasn't his fault!" Uraraka bursts out straight out the gate. Aizawa sighs. "Uraraka..."

Dropping into far too deep a bow, Iida follows her with an "Sensei, I understand that Midoriya's actions were not acceptable! However, please consider the extenuating circumstances when considering his punishment!"

"Sensei Monama is the one who should be punished! He never should have said that about what happened to Koda!"

“I… I understand that Midoriya’s reaction was extreme but I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing if he hadn’t!”

Midoriya says nothing. Iida and Uraraka continue to trip over themselves to defend him but the boy himself barely looks up, eyes hovering somewhere near Aizawa’s chin before dropping back to his shoes.

“...Go rejoin the rest of the class, I've got him," Aizawa says. Uraraka looks mulish. Iida opens his mouth, puffing up as he prepares to argue. Aizawa raises an eyebrow, staring him down. Iida deflates and nods. 

"I'll see you back at the dorms, Midoriya," Iida says, gently squeezing Midoriya’s shoulder before stepping back. Uraraka looks like she might argue for a moment, eyes flicking between her friends and her teacher, but slumps and nods. "See you soon, Deku," she says, giving Midoriya's hand a squeeze before letting go. Midoriya gives her a wobbling little smile.

Once they’re gone, Aizawa takes a moment to observe his most troublesome student.

"Sorry," Midoriya mumbles, eyes on the floor. "I don't mean to- I’m not trying to- to guilt you or anything." he gestures loosely to encompass his still dripping eyes and the hiccuping breaths from his efforts to hold back the tears, "-I'm trying to stop. But I just. I can't-" Midoriya bites his lip, cutting himself off.

Aizawa very carefully doesn't groan. "It's fine. Vlad said you were crying so I came prepared." Midoriya makes a pained face but accepts the tissue box Aizawa passes him.

"I'm sorry I made trouble for him," Midoriya mumbles as he uses the tissues to wipe at his face.

"Are you sorry you punched Monama in the face?" 

Ah. There it is. The mulish expression Aizawa hates to see on Midoriya's face. That stubbornness that, while useful on the field, is the bane of his existence in the classroom. At least it means Midoriya stops crying. Well. Mostly stops crying.

“Midoriya” he sighs.

“Sorry, sensei.”

“I’m not going to lie and say it’s fine. I’m sure anything Monama had to say about Koda was out of line but there’s a right and a wrong way to go about things and punching another student in the face isn’t something I can condone, even if I understand why you did it.”

“Sorry, Sensei.”

It leaves a sour taste in his mouth the way Midoriya doesn’t even try to argue. He expected some kind of righteous justification. Aizawa knows that when he was Midoriya’s age he probably would have decked Monama in Midoriya’s position. And while he wasn’t quite in the habit of arguing with his teachers he thinks he probably would have done something. Muttered, sulked, rolled his eyes probably. Something. Not stand there quietly and obediently waiting for punishment.

“...Can you tell me why you had such an extreme reaction to what he said?”

Midoriya goes still. “I just over reacted. I’m sorry, Sensei.”

“... Did he say something extreme? Something I should be aware of?”

Midoriya flinches. “No, sensei. I over reacted. I’m sorry.”

We’re going in circles, he thinks, exasperated.

And then a fucking miracle happens.

Midoriya hesitates, fiddling with the tissue clutched into his hands. And then he says “We just. It’s just. We had. A bullying problem. At my middle school. And Monama- he just.” Midoriya swallows, tearing a hole in the tissue. “It just brought up some- it just made me think of. things And then I…” Midoriya trails off, biting his lip, and says nothing more.

“Overreacted,” Aizawa finishes, as if ode to joy isn’t blaring through his brain because Midoriya just volunteered information about a problem. Not a lot, yeah, but the fact that he did it at all is a miracle.

“...yeah.”

It’s another piece in a puzzle whose picture Aizawa can’t see. And as he scrambles to find where it slots in he leaves it too long. Midoriya starts to ramble again. “I’m not- I’m not trying to make excuses. Or get out of punishment or anything. I just- I wanted- to tell you. Um. That.”

Aizawa holds back the instinctive sigh and drops a hand onto Midoriya’s shoulder. Progress is progress, he tells himself. Midoriya opened up, even if it was just a little crack. Even if he all but slammed the door shut again.

“I’ll talk to Vlad about Monama. And while I can’t say you didn’t have a good reason to be angry I still can’t let you punch another student and walk away unpunished.”

“Yes, Sensei.”

“... Class duty for the rest of the week.”

Midoriya gives a little jolt and looks up, surprise and something else flashing across his face too fast for Aizawa to catch it. He knows what the surprise is for, at least. Extra classroom duties are a light enough punishment as it is. Even lighter considering Midoriya makes a habit of staying behind after class to help out with them when he isn’t assigned them.

“Yes sir,” he says, clear confusion in his voice. Aizawa nods again, and lifts his hand from Midoriya’s shoulder.

The week continues. He gets more details of what Monama said from the other students present. Then he brings it to Vlad, who grimaces and promises to sort it out. Class rivalry aside, he fully trusts Vlad's word. So he isn't really surprised to find scrubbing 1-B's dorm top to bottom on top of heading to Hound Dog's office.

Midoriya submits to his own punishment without fuss. He even manages to not break any bones doing so. It all seems to be turning out perfectly. A problem not quite snipped in the bud. But close to that. Cut off before the first blighted bloom could fully open, maybe. Too bad he can't say the same about the Midoriya and Bakugo situation.

There’s an age old question of what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. Midoriya and Bakugo do a good job of portraying both, switching roles whenever the situation calls for it. Currently, Bakugo is the unstoppable force slamming into Midoriya’s immovable surface in his ceaseless effort to apologize for whatever it is he did. Aizawa is fairly certain it’s going to blow up in his face eventually but he’s weathered the fall out from two kids raised praised for their quirks and pitted against each other into a deeply unhealthy rivalry before. He can do it again.

He’s fully expecting Bakugo to use Midoriya’s punishment as an opportunity to pin him down. And he is. Well. He’s trying to, at least.

Class ends and Aizawa flops down on the ground for his usual post school nap. Or so he lets his students think. He naps, yes, but only after all of the students have filtered out and class duties are all done. But letting his students think he’s sleeping gives him the opportunity to observe them when they think he isn’t watching, which is always useful. Even if some people think it’s “kinda weird, Shou, not gonna lie,” and “you could accomplish the same goal with out compromising yourself with a well placed camera and a listening device.”

Hizashi is clearly not seeing the benefits of this tactic. And Nezu might technically be right but if he did things that way not only would he have to stare at a screen for longer, which isn’t ideal with chronic dry eye, but he’d also miss out on teaching his students valuable lessons about spatial awareness. Plus there are plenty of small body language indicators a camera might miss, in addition to tone nuances a microphone won’t pick up.

Ahem. More importantly, the current situation.

Usually, Bakugo is one of the first out the door. But the day Aizawa announces that Midoriya will be taking on an extra share of classroom duties as punishment for the ‘fight’ with Monama he can practically see Bakugo’s ears perk up. And, unsurprisingly, Bakugo doesn’t bolt out of the school with the majority of the class at the end of the day. He lingers, looking like he’s cataloging his school supplies as Midoriya’s friends hover around him while he starts cleaning up the classroom alongside the others assigned that day.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to help?” Uraraka quietly asks, eyes flicking to Aizawa. He continues his ruse of being fast asleep, eyes open the barest sliver to allow him to see his students. Midoriya smiles a little and shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. It’s my punishment. I shouldn’t have hit him.”

“He deserved it.” Uraraka says

“Uraraka-san, please! Don’t advocate violence!” Iida says.

“We’re hero students though, doesn’t violence come with the job?” Asui adds in.

“I- Well- yes but there’s a difference between fighting villains and fighting our fellow classmates! It is against the rules to cause harm to another student in any manner outside of regulated training. No matter how insensitive, borderline cruel, and needlessly confrontational said fellow student is being, on a near constant basis, we simply cannot-”

“You wanted to hit him too, didn’t you Iida?”

Iida sputters and flushes, whirling to Asui with arms chopping “I- I can’t possibly- It would be completely inappropriate to-”

“He definitely wanted to hit him,” Uraraka says with a smirk. Iida sputters like a broken kettle and turns to her, arm motions growing more frantic.

“Regardless of what urges I may or may not have felt-”

“It’s okay, Iida, if Deku hadn’t hit him I would have.”

“Uraraka-san!”

“Honestly, I don’t think I’d have been far behind her if Monama had kept talking.”

“Asui- Tsuyu-chan!”

The girls make a half-hearted effort to contain their giggles and Midoriya ducks his head, fighting a smile. Meanwhile, Bakugo packs up his pencils one by one. Aizawa is pretty sure he’s organizing them by size in his pencils carrier.

“Guys, really, it’s okay. I’m not saying Monama didn’t deserve it but Iida is right. I still shouldn’t have punched him. Not when I know sensei will actually do something about it. The pencil snaps in Bakugo’s grip. Midoriya’s friends startle and turn. Midoriya startles. He does not turn. Bakugo ignores them all and gets up to throw out the pencil pieces.

“Seriously. It’s only a few extra chores. Plus it’s not like I don’t volunteer for this half the time anyway, right?”

Uraraka fidgets. “I know but…” her eyes flicker to Bakugo, so fast Aizawa barely catches it. More things that don’t sit right. The con of covertly observing his students is that while it does let him know things he needs to stay aware of it brings the things to his attention in a way where he can’t exactly just ask them for clarification. Like just now and the barely there implication that whatever the bullying problem Midoriya's middle school had the teachers didn't handle it well. Or at all. There’s no way to ask Midoriya when this happened or with who, not without showing his hand and damaging Midoriya’s trust in him. He just has to trust that if there’s something more to be done about the situation then Midoriya will bring it to him.

…If that happens Aizawa is going to start keeping an eye out for flying pigs. Because that one is honestly more likely. Still. Kids can’t learn and grow if you don’t give them the chance to try. He shakes off his musing and refocuses on his students.

“Iida you said there was a bunch of paperwork to pick up right? I’ll start with that.”

“If you won’t let us help then at least let us walk with you!”

Midoriya smiles, soft and a little shy. “I mean… if you really want to, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course we do! You’re our friend!”

Midoriya beams at them. Aizawa seriously considers if he should petition Nezu to allow him to add sunglasses to his students’s uniforms. With Midoriya around they need them.

The group of friends leave. Aizawa is unsurprised when Bakugo suddenly finishes inventorying his school supplies and follows after them.

He’s a good bit more surprised when, about fifteen minutes later, Midoriya's head peaks through the window, cautiously scanning the room, before he reaches up to unlatch it.

He watches Midoriya clamber through, holding a thick stack of papers. Midoriya catches him staring and blushes scarlet.

“Um…”

“...Avoiding Bakugo?”

“Um. Yes.”

“Don’t you think this is a bit extreme?”

“Mr. Principal said I could.”

Aizawa raises his eyebrows. Midoriya juggles the papers in one hand, miraculously not dropping any, and fumbles a different paper out of his pocket. He hands it to Aizawa and drops the stack of papers on the desk with a heavy thunk.

Aizawa reads the note. Reads it again. And then once more for good measure. The words don’t change. He doesn’t know why he hoped they would.

Aizawa, Midoriya will be evading his problems via principal sanctioned impromptu capture and evasion training.

“... Okay then.” Aizawa pockets the note and starts in on the paperwork.

“So… it’s okay?”

It’s incredibly stupid and probably going to result in mass property damage, Aizawa thinks. “I’m not fighting Nezu,” he says out loud. Besides, he usually has the students’s best interests in mind so he’s probably not just going along with it because he thinks it’ll be funny to watch. Besides. There’s only just so many ways to escape the classroom.  

…After Midoriya’s display with the window he probably should have guessed things wouldn’t be so simple. He’s expecting it to take Bakugo maybe a day or two to realize Midoriya is bailing out the windows and ambush him. He’s not expecting Midoriya to think to escape through the vents. Or the ceiling tiles.

 ...It’s an eventful week. And with every passing day Bakugo only grows more and more frustrated as he fails to trap Midoriya into holding still long enough to deliver his mysterious apology. At the very least watching the two play cat and mouse is giving Aizawa valuable insight to some weaknesses on Bakugo’s part and a talent for evasion kids like Midoriya don’t usually have. Still. This can’t go on forever. He fully expects for Midoriya to either get tired of running away or for Bakugo to finally manage to pin him down any day now. He’s not expecting a different blonde to beat Bakugo to it.

Aizawa is grading papers and letting himself enjoy the breeze from the window Midoriya has cracked open, presumably just in case he needs to bail out of it. Midoriya himself doesn’t look like he has one eye out for Bakugo as he wipes down the windows but by now Aizawa knows he absolutely does.  

There’s a knock on the door. Which means it’s probably not Bakugo. Even so, Midoriya clearly isn’t taking any chances. It’s a testament to how numb he’s become to this kid’s antics when he doesn’t even blink as Midoriya nudges the window just far enough open to look like it accidentally wasn’t closed all the way before silently yet swiftly climbing onto a desk and pushing a ceiling tile aside.

“Come in,” Aizawa says, ignoring Midoriya’s stealthy climb into the ceiling.

The door opens just as Midoriya resettles the ceiling tile in place. By the time the knocker enters the room there’s no sign the tile ever moved and every indication that Midoriya went out the window. But, like he expected, it’s not Bakugo who enters. It’s a different blonde. Aizawa raises an eyebrow.

“Monama.”

“Sir.”

“Did you need something?”

“I…”

“Vlad was in the teacher’s lounge, last I knew.”

“I was looking for Midoriya, actually. Sir.”

“And why were you looking for him?”

“...to apologize. I heard his punishment for our fight was extra class duties so I thought here was my best bet to find him. Do you know where-”

The tile in the ceiling shifts to the side and Midoriya swings down, sliding the tile back in place and landing in one neat movement.

“If you’re apologizing I think you should probably apologize to Koda first.”

Monama stares at him, mouth hanging open. “You- why were you-” he sputters.

“I thought you were someone else, sorry.”

“So you climbed into the- how did you even get up there so fast-” Monama stops and shakes his head. “Never mind. I suppose it’s not any of my business.”

“I mean, I guess not. It really isn’t important. You really do need to apologize to Koda, though.”

“I’m going to apologize to him too, it’s just that, well, he’s probably with the rest of your class at your dorms. And I don’t fancy my chances of being allowed anywhere near him under the current circumstances. However… if I were to have someone with me willing to vet my good intentions…”

“...I’ll go with you to the dorms. But if you say anything cruel to him I’ll-”

“Tell me.” Aizawa interrupts, fixing a stern look on his student. “And let me handle it.” Midoriya has the good sense to be sheepish. “Yes, sensei.”

“Good. Now that that’s settled…” He casts a glance at Monama.

Monama takes a deep breath and dips into a bow, fists clenched and eyes squeezed shut but sincere all the same.

“Midoriya I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn and my behavior was careless and callous to the situation. I apologize for allowing my own insecurities to lead me to behave in such a reprehensible way.”

Midoriya sputters a little, face going red as he ducks his head, but he holds steady. “Th- thank you. Monama. And. Um. I’m sorry for breaking your nose…”

Aizawa has about three seconds to indulge in a moment of satisfaction of watching two students grow as people before it all goes to hell.

“What the fuck,” comes Bakugo’s voice from the door way. Ah, shit, Aizawa thinks. Midoriya’s face closes off as quickly and smoothly as a curtain yanked across a window.

“What the fuck” Bakugo spits again. Midoriya’s shoulders go back and his spine straightens like someone threaded an iron rod through it.

“Kacchan,” he says, voice flat.

“You’ll let him apologize but not me? He didn’t even do anything to you.”

“I don’t know what rock you’ve been under but we had a fight-” Monama starts, only to quickly be cut off.

“Fuck off, I’m not talking to you!”

Monama puffs up like an angry cat. “Excuse me?”

Bakugo ignores him. “I’ve been trying to pin you down for weeks and you’ve done nothing but dodge me and brush me off-”

“Because I don’t want to talk about it!”

“Well I do!”

“Oh and it’s always about what you want, isn’t it? Never mind if I want to just forget about it. Never mind if I already said I forgive you-”

“-How the fuck are you supposed to forgive someone who hasn’t even apologized-”

“-never mind how I feel about it! If I want to just leave all of that in the past where it belongs.”

“How can it be in the past if you won’t give me the chance to apologize and put it behind me?”

It’s clear the boys have forgotten their audience in the heat of their argument. Monama makes the wise decision to back away slowly, as the two boys begin raising their voices, fury sparking in their every move. His eyes flicker around for some kind of guidance. Aizawa catches him by the shoulder. Monama twitches but doesn’t flinch, turning his head just enough to see Aizawa without loosing sight of the arguing powerhouses in front of him. Aizawa spares just enough thought to acknowledge it as smart instincts, even if he’s fairly certain neither Bakugo nor Midoriya are the types to lose control and endanger bystanders. He jerks his chin toward the door.

“Go wait in the teacher’s lounge. We’ll handle your apology to Koda once I’m done here.” Monama flickers one glance back at the furious pair in front of him and obeys. Aizawa gives him just enough attention to make sure he really leaves and then returns his full focus to the argument unfolding in front of him, waiting to see if it escalates to a point he needs to intervene.

“-Oh so I can’t be hurt by something that didn’t directly happen to me but you can?”

“Fuck off, you know what I mean!”

“Sorry, I must have forgotten that Kacchan’s feelings are the only ones that matter!”

“I didn’t fucking say that!”

“It sure feels like it!”

“I’m trying to apologize!”

“Well I don’t need you to!”

Bakugo purses his lips and swallows a shriek. Midoriya glares him down. There’s a brief moment where Aizawa almost thinks he’ll storm off. But then Bakugo bursts out with “Why won’t you just let me apologize!”

“Not everything is about you!” Midoriya snaps back.

“I’m pretty fucking sure I’m about half involved in this!”

Midoriya barks out an ugly laugh.

“half? You think you were even half of- of back then?”

“From what I remember I was!”

“From what you remember. From what you remember.”

Aizawa has never heard Midoriya’s voice go so cold. There’s something dark in Midoriya’s tone. Something ugly. Aizawa’s eyes dart between the two boys, wondering if he should go ahead and step in.

“You know what I remember, Kacchan? I remember that week you were out sick with the flu and your friends thought it would be so funny to organize a memorial for me.”

What? Aizawa doesn’t freeze often. But he freezes now.

Underneath the shock, Bakugo looks like he might be sick. Aizawa himself is torn somewhere between the kind of rage that burns buildings down and being sick himself.

“They got the whole class involved. There was a funeral portrait. Speeches. They lay funeral flowers all over my desk while I was still. Sitting. in it. And that- Kacchan, that wasn’t just one day for them. That was every chance they got.” Fat tears roll down Midoriya’s face, choking his voice. But he continues on. “And yeah. You- you weren’t great back then. You- you were an absolute jerk."

Bakugo, who of course doesn’t know when to quit, cuts in with "Don't fucking sugar coat it! I was a fucking bully!"

"Yeah! You were a bully, Kacchan! You were! But I'm so fucking sick of you sitting here and brooding over the one time you did what the whole school spent every day doing!"

"...Everyday?"

"Yeah, Kacchan! Everyday! A note in my locker, someone saying it just loud enough for me to hear, scribbled on my desk or my classwork! Every single day, Kacchan! I'm pretty sure some of the seniors made it a rite of passage for the underclassmen!”

Midoriya pauses, panting for breath. Bakugo stands silent. He breathes as hard as Midoriya, eyes flickering about like he’s just now putting together a puzzle that’s been right in front of his eyes for years. Aizawa envies him. Because he has no clue what’s happening.

What happened to cause this? What made Midoriya a target for a bullying campaign that was apparently school wide? What the fuck were his teachers doing? Why didn’t they stop it? Why didn’t anyone try to step in. He knows that sometimes there simply isn’t any rhyme or reason to bullying, that sometimes it truly is random, but more often there’s some random little thing held up for justification of something that can never truly be justified.

Midoriya speaks again, barely more than a whisper compared to his earlier yelling. Somehow, it’s worse.

“You know, Kacchan, you were- you were fucking awful. But I was always, always almost grateful. Because at least- at least with you I knew you hated me because of who I was. Not what. There was always a chance our personalities would change as we got older and you wouldn’t hate me anymore. But I was always going to be quirkless.”

The stupidest thing of all is that amidst all the horror of that the first thing Aizawa finds himself thinking is but Midoriya has a quirk. Almost on auto pilot, Aizawa steps in, putting a hand on both of their shoulders.

The boys jump in unison as they’re forcibly reminded that everything they just said had an audience. Midoriya goes white, eyes widening as the rest of his face goes slack. Bakugo’s face twists somewhere between horror and something Aizawa thinks might be guilt. Hopefully it’s guilt, given everything he just heard.

“Okay. Okay I think that’s enough. You two need to step back, cool off, and I think I’m also going to need you two to explain some of the things I just heard.”

“Excuse me, Sensei,” Midoriya says. Faster than Aizawa can process his words, he slides out from under Aizawa’s shoulder and bolts.

“Midoriya-” Aizawa starts but Midoriya is gone before the word even leaves Aizawa’s mouth. He takes a step toward the door but the tell tale crackle of Midoriya’s quirk activating and knows there’s no way he’s stopping him without chasing him down. Which he can’t. Because he needs to deal with Bakugo.

Only he doesn’t know how to deal with Bakugo. Koda’s situation was different. Simpler. Open and shut. Beyond the sickening mistreatment of their peers, the students who bullied Koda broke UA’s very clear and well known rules against bullying within or outside the school. Rules which do not apply to past actions unless they were documented. Which Aizawa knows they weren’t. Because if they were Bakugo never would have set foot on UA as an applicant- let alone as a student.

He closes his eyes and brings up his now free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. And none of that even touches just how emotionally compromised he is right now. This isn’t just some student whose ugly past is getting drug up. It’s his student. One he’s risked life and reputation for more than once.  

“...Sensei-”

“Sit down, Bakugo.”

“I-”

“Sit. Down.” Aizawa forces himself to take another slow breath. “…Please,” he adds belatedly.

Bakugo’s mouth shuts with a click. He drops into the nearest desk, hands curled tightly into fists on top of the desk. His eyes burn into the surface like he’s trying to set it on fire with his eyes instead of his hands. He stays like that the entire five solid minutes it takes Aizawa to wrestle some form of composure back. Alright, he tells himself, one of your students has… something bizarre going on. Which you do not have enough information to deal with. And the other-

“Am I expelled?” Bakugo asks, far calmer than Aizawa expects from him. Especially when he’s seen first hand how much Bakugo wants to be a hero.

-And the other you are too incandescently furious and disappointed in to make a rational decision right now. Aizawa forces in the deepest breath he can and lets it out soft and slow. Bakugo waits with a patience Aizawa has never seen from him.

“... I don’t know yet,” Aizawa says at last, sounding calmer than he expected to.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I am currently too angry, too confused, and too disappointed-” he just barely catches the way Bakugo flinches at that “-in you to trust myself to make a decision right now.” He pauses. Bakugo stays silent, eyes on his hands. Aizawa sighs and continues. “I also don’t feel that I have all of the facts yet and I prefer to make important decisions with as many of the facts as possible. So. You are going to sit here and wait for someone to come escort you to Nezu’s office. I’m going to go find Midoriya and bring him to Nezu’s office. And then I’ll sit down with Nezu and we will come to a decision on how to move forward.”

He half expects Bakugo to snap. Snarl. Rage. Anything. But he keeps his burning eyes on the desk and says “Yes, Sensei.”

There’s no time to examine Bakugo’s reaction. Because not giving the time to look into students acting strangely has worked out so well, he thinks, the thought a lash against himself. He forces himself to nod, short and curt. He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a small pack of tissues. He places it on the desk and then walk out of the room. He shuts the door between himself and the boy that might not be his student for much longer with a soft click.

When he pulls his phone from his pocket he’s unsurprised to find both a text from Hound Dog telling him he’s on his way and another from Nezu consisting only of a location in the school and the words I sent Yagi to him. He doesn’t bother sending an acknowledgement. Nezu already knows he’s seen it and he’s on his way.

Midoriya has himself holed up in a storage room a few floors above the floor 1-A’s classroom is on. From the look of things this is at least one of the places he’s been hiding from Bakugo all week. It’s a good choice. There’s nothing in here but extra festival supplies. With no festivals coming up there’s no reason for anyone to come in here. If it weren’t for Nezu, they’d probably still be looking for him.

Yagi is seated on the ground next to Midoriya, which can’t be good for him. But he can’t fault Yagi for it, not when Midoriya is crumpled into his side like he’s trying to merge with it. He’s not crying, which is somehow worse.

Yagi is the only one to notice him, at first. All things considered, Aizawa isn't surprised. Without a word, he sits down in front of them. He meets Yagi’s eyes. There’s a muted rage burning there but mostly the man looks tired and painfully sad. Yagi looks down at Midoriya, face softening. There’s something about his expression, something so gentle and loving, that makes Aizawa feel like it’s not for his eyes.

“Aizawa is here, young Midoriya.” Yagi says softly. For a moment Midoriya gives no sign of having heard him. Then he shifts, slowly uncurling enough to look at Aizawa.

“...Sorry for running off.”

“Given the circumstances it’s understandable.”

Midoriya drops his eyes to the ground but gives a tiny nod and uncurls a bit more.

“I guess… you probably have some questions?”

He has so many questions. “A few,” he says. “ But I told you before that I wouldn’t force you to tell me if you were uncomfortable and I stand by that. However, given the circumstances, if you’re not comfortable telling me I do need you to find someone you are comfortable telling.”

“Is Kacchan going to be expelled?” Midoriya blurts out. Yagi’s eyes flicker with repressed anger and Aizawa can read a furious disappointment in the thin press of his lips. Ah. Yagi knows then.

“Do you think he should be?” Aizawa asks, eyes flicking back to Midoriya.

“I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t become a hero.”

“If Young Bakugo is expelled it will be because of his actions and his choices. Not you.” Yagi says, firm but gentle.

“I know, but-”

“He’s right. You are in no way responsible for any of the consequences Bakugo will face for his actions.”

“You’re going to expel him then,” Midoriya whispers.

“A decision hasn’t been made yet. If you don’t want him to be expelled that’ll be taken into account but I can’t promise he won’t be expelled.”

Midoriya’s eyes trail back to the floor as he curls up a little tighter. But he nods and gives them a tiny “Okay.”

Aizawa gives him a moment and then continues on. “Now about the things you mentioned in your argument with Bakugo. Are you comfortable telling me or would you rather me bring in someone else?”

“No, I- I want to-” Midoriya flickers a glance up at Yagi who smiles encouragingly down at him and nods.

“It’s your choice, young Midoriya.”

Midoriya nods back at him and turns back to Aizawa. There’s fire back in his eyes and Aizawa is relieved inspite of the cryptic conversation.

“I want to tell you. All of it.”

“Okay.”

It’s not a pleasant tale. Aizawa wasn’t expecting it to be one but it’s still an upsettingly ugly tale. He listens to Midoriya tell him what life was like before he was medically diagnosed quirkless- something that is not in his file and something that is still confusing the hell out of Aizawa. There should at least be some kind of retraction there. At least some footnote somewhere to warn him that hey this kid didn’t have his quirk most of his life. Not just nothing. Unless there was a reason. Unless there was something to hide. But Aizawa keeps those thoughts to himself and lets Midoriya talk.

He stutters and stumbles his way through the whole sordid tale, summarizing years- years- of torment. Somewhere along the line Yagi lays one gentle hand over Midoriya’s and the boy instantly snags Yagi’s hand in a death grip. He pales, yelps out an apology, and tries to let go but Yagi is having none of it. He keeps hold of Midoriya’s hand, giving it a soft squeeze. Midoriya gives in quickly, shooting Yagi a small and soft but sincere smile before continuing on.

Every word out of Midoriya’s mouth strokes the fire in Aizawa’s chest. Despite the pains Yagi is taking to be supportive Aizawa can tell it’s the same for him.

It seems impossible to get his mind around. Daily bullying. From his classmates. From his teachers. From every other student in the school. From the fucking principal. If they weren’t joining in themselves they were standing back and just letting it happen. Outright denying that it could possibly be as bad as it was. It makes Aizawa want to scream.

“And Bakugo?” he finds himself asking during one of Midoriya’s more lengthy pauses.

“...Kacchan was… my friend. At first. At least I think he was? He was never nice but he wasn’t- he wasn’t cruel until his quirk came in. Until…”

“Until people started to fill his head with this idea that he was the next number one waiting to happen.”

Midoriya nods slowly. “Kacchan doesn’t show it but… he’s scared. Deep down. Everyone praised him growing up but it always came with these expectations. And Kacchan can’t stand failing. Can’t stand the idea that he’ll fail to measure up.”

“And he decided to take that out on you?”

“I think I made him mad. Because- even when-” Midoriya stops and glances at Yagi. Yagi gives him a tiny little nod, squeezing his hand again. Midoriya takes in a slow breath and lets it out again. His voice shakes and trembles but he doesn’t stop once he’s started.

“Because I never gave up on being a hero. Even when I got diagnosed as quirkless.”

What? Aizawa thinks. He’s almost shocked enough to open his mouth and ask how that’s possible when Midoriya is sitting right in front of him with a quirk so powerful it breaks him on a regular basis. But a sharp look and tiny shake of his head from Yagi quells the urge. He’s right. It’s taken so much for Midoriya to start talking about this. He can’t risk claming him up now.

“Even when- when everyone else gave up on being his friend and just worshiped him instead I still- I still insisted on standing by him. I kept reaching out. Kept trying to stay by his side. Eventually he just… snapped. I don’t know why, exactly. But I think maybe it was something like- like if someone so weak, someone everyone thought was worthless, thought Kacchan needed his help then… how could he ever think he’d measure up to everyone’s expectations?”

Midoriya falls silent. When it’s clear he’s done for now Aizawa stows his questions about how the hell Midoriya could get medically diagnosed quirkless and then end up here with a quirk as powerful as this one- when Aizawa already knows the bullying continued up until he graduated middle school.

“That doesn’t make it okay,” he says instead of the questions fighting to break free.

“No,” Midoriya whispers, blinking away tears. “It doesn’t. I think it makes it worse, actually.”

“I’m sorry, my boy,” Yagi says softly.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Still. You shouldn’t have had to go through all of that. You never should have been treated that way.”

Midoriya stares at his knees for a moment and then raises his eyes to meet Aizawa’s. “You… you probably have questions. About my quirk.”

“They can wait,” Aizawa says even though he feels like a damn about to burst.

“No, it’s fine, um… my quirk is… it’s a special situation. I’m not necessarily a late bloomer. It’s more like, um, my quirk was given to me?”

“...given to you?” he says, trying not to let the fear leak into his voice as his mind immediately flicks to the Nomu and the multitude of quirks inside of them. Of all the people he’s seen, heard of, and occasionally personally stopped who had an unhealthy interest in seeing how quirks worked and what could be done with them from a genetic stand point.

“It was my quirk,” Yagi says, making every half baked panicked theory building up in Aizawa’s head fall flat on their faces.

“What?”

“My quirk. Passed down to me by my master who received it from her master and so on nine times. All the way to the dawn of quirks.”

“It’s called One For All. It stockpiles power- and copies the quirks of previous holders, apparently. All Might chose me to be his successor my last year of middle school. I had to train like crazy all year so I’d be able to receive it in time for the entrance exam.”

There’s so much about that sentance causing Aizawa personal pain. But there’s one particular bit niggling at him the most.“...in time for the exam.”

“Uh, yes?”

Aizawa has a terrible feeling. “How long before the exam did you-” he can’t believe these words are leaving his mouth “- inherit the quirk?”

“Um. Well. The- the day before?” Midoriya squeaks, suddenly finding the ceiling very interesting.

“Ah.” Aizawa, remembering that Midoriya broke three limbs in that exam when he used his- apparently brand fucking new- quirk, looks over at Yagi.

Yagi coughs. “We, uh, obviously weren’t expecting such an… explosive… debut otherwise I would have sought out another solution.”

“I should hope so.”

The three of them sit there in an awkward silence. Midoriya slowly gives up his study of the ceiling to watch Aizawa out of the corners of his eyes. Yagi frets, fiddling with his hands. Aizawa ignores all of this, just trying to process that one of his students went fifteen years of his life being bullied for a genetic roll of the dice beyond his control until he was given a quirk that dates back to the dawn of quirks. A quirk that was given to him by the then number one hero and most beloved hero of all time. And that’s not even mentioning the fact that one of the people who bullied his student is another one of his current students.

“...one moment,” Aizawa says. He steps outside the room, closes the door, and crushes his face into his hands. He inhales as much as he can and then exhales slowly, repeating the process until the urge to scream is at a manageable level. He drops his hands and stares at the ceiling for a moment. Then he lifts one hand in the direction of the nearest camera and flips it off. He schools himself back to calmness and goes back into the room.

Midoriya’s eyes flick up to him and then back down to where he’s picking at his nails.

“There’s, um, more stuff that goes along with one for all-”

Oh gods no please have mercy, Aizawa thinks.

“- but, um, I think that can wait for now?”

“Is it likely to cause you or anyone else harm within the next few days?”

“...Probably not?” Midoriya glances at Yagi who thinks about it for a moment. Please just give me this one thing.

“I think it’s a stable as the situation can get, for the moment.”

“Ok. Alright. Then we move on to dealing with Bakugo.”

Midoriya grimaces at the floor. Aizawa reaches forward and puts his hand on Midoriya’s shoulder. Midoriya reluctantly looks up at him.

“Midoriya, I need you to understand that whatever happens, whatever decision is made, it is not your fault or your responsibility.”

Midoriya swallows hard. “Okay,” he says softly.

"Principal Nezu is waiting for us. I'm sure he's already called your mother so she should be in her way."

Midoriya nods again, numb and quiet, and they filter out of the room. They haven't gotten more than a dozen steps before both Yagi and his text alerts go off. It's Vlad, requesting help with getting past the rest of class 1-A so Montana apology can give his to Koda.

"Man faces down Villains every day but can't face down less than two dozen teens," Aizawa huffs. Yagi chuckles.

"Just imagine how the villains will feel once the kids are out on the streets. I can help Vlad-" he glances over to Midoriya. "-that is, as long as you're comfortable continuing on alone, young Midoriya. I'm sure Vlad can hold his own against the class."

Midoriya shakes his head. "No, no I can handle it, don't let the class make Vlad-sensei cry again."

“...Again?” Aizawa and Yagi ask. Midoriya freezes and glances away quickly.

“Uh. I- I think Principal Nezu has waited long enough, r-right?”

“...I want to know more about that later.” Aizawa says. So I can find the footage and save it for blackmail. From the twinkle in Yagi’s eye as he says his goodbyes Aizawa feels he probably knows exactly what he’s thinking.

They’re about halfway to Principal Nezu’s office when Aizawa finally finds the words to say what he needs to say.

 “Thank you,” Aizawa says, because it feels like the right thing to say. Midoriya’s eyes go big as his head whips toward him. He stares. “I- Sensei? For- for what?”

“For trusting me with this. For telling me. I realize I’m not the most… soft person. And considering your history with teachers you have even less reason to trust me than most students. You could have easily just never told me. So thank you for your trust. And I’m sorry.”

Midoriya only looks more shell-shocked. Aizawa presses on before he can panic. “I looked at your quirk and made a lot of assumptions about you. In a way I’m no different than your past teachers-”

“No!” Midoriya blurts out. He looks mortified but just as determined. “No, you’re- Sensei you’re amazing. You’ve- you’ve saved my life multiple times and you never treat me any different than the other kids! You’re always so kind-”

“Midoriya I literally threatened to expel someone on the first day. I almost actually expelled you for not mastering a quirk you’d just gotten.”

“But it wasn’t because it was me! It’s always been because it was me. You- you gave me the same chances everyone else did! You’ve never graded me off a different answer sheet or- or given me a different test than everyone else. Anytime I’ve ever had trouble in class was because of something I did and not- not just because I’m me.”

There’s an odd kind of grief boiling in Aizawa’s stomach. Because Aizawa knows he isn’t an easy person or an easy teacher. He’s never been called a kind teacher before and there’s a reason for that. The most he can say is that he’s fair. At least as fair as he can be with occasionally limited information.

Students have left his class in tears before and only some of them have come back. And he doesn’t regret that. Heroism is not a safe job or an easy one and he doesn’t want a single student of his to leave his classroom believing otherwise.

But, for Midoriya, Aizawa-Aizawa who has and will continue to expel students who don’t take training to be a hero seriously, Aizawa who is known for throwing his students off the edge of a cliff and telling them to figure out how to fly on the way down, Aizawa who has done nothing but completely misunderstand Midoriya and make despairing assumptions about Midoriya for months- is what a kind teacher looks like. Because he does his job right and has basic human decency.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing anyway,” Midoriya says.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I didn’t tell you the truth! I made you feel like you’re bad at your job!”

“I didn’t give you any reason to trust me.”

“You risked your life for the class- for me!”

“Eraserhead risked his life. As your teacher, I looked at you and saw yet another kid with a powerful physical quirk raised on a pedestal- for better or for worse. And because I couldn’t see past my own biases I wasn’t able to do anything when your past was hurting you.”

“I’m fine though,” Midoriya whispers.

“Jar-”

Midoriya comes to an abrupt stop. “But I am though! It’s over! It’s done! It- it can’t happen again! I have a quirk and- and actual friends. I- I have teachers and mentors who won’t just sit by and watch it happen again! My only old classmate in the entire school is Kacchan and he’s not going to do any of it again! I’m perfectly safe! It’s over. It’s over.”

Midoriya's chest heaves. Fresh tears prickle in his eyes. "I'm- I'm fine. I'm safe. Everything is fine now."

Aizawa crouches down slowly and places his hands on Midoriya’s shoulders.

“Midoriya-”

“It’s over,”

“It is. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t still hurting you.”

“I just- I just want it to be over.”

“I know-” Aizawa says. And then stops. What can he say to that? Of course, Midoriya wants to put this behind him. Of course he wants it to be over. He’s finally escaped years of torment. Of course he just wants to shove it all in a box and ignore it.

“I know you do. But if you try to ignore it- if you try to pretend it never happened it won’t ever be over. It’ll just be there. Waiting for something to remind you, for you to let your guard down. And I know it’s not fair, none of it ever should have happened to you. But it did. And now all you can do is face it.”  

Midoriya squeezes his eyes shut. "I'm just. I'm just so angry I don't know what to do with it. I don’t- I don’t know-" a sob cuts him off.

He doesn’t know what instinct trips him into doing it. It must be one because it’s certainly not a conscious decision. He reaches out and drags Midoriya into a hug.

The tight, enveloping kind like you’re trying to pull them into your chest and hide them away from the pain. The way Midoriya stutters and breaks into an ugly sob makes something in his chest crack right in half.

Midoriya cries- loud, wet, ugly sobs and Aizawa doesn’t count the minutes. They pass and Midoriya cries and Aizawa waits, wondering what kind of half thought out bullshit instinct pushed him to hug someone. This is Hizashi’s fault, he’s sure of it.

When Midoriya’s crying dies down to wet sniffles against his shirt Aizawa asks “Are you ready to go talk to Nezu or would you rather wait?”

Midoriya shakes his head and wipes his face. Aizawa reaches into one of many pockets and hands him a pack of tissues.

“I want- I just want to get it over with as fast as possible.”

“Alright,” he says, and guides them the rest of the way to the principal’s office.

Outside Nezu’s office they find Bakugo, seated and waiting in the chairs lining the wall. Midoriya’s mother sits not too far away, eyes on the wall and her hands clenched around a handkerchief in her lap like she can’t bear to look over at the boy beside her. Bakugo stares at the floor like he himself can’t bear to look at her, if for different reasons.

Midoriya Inko is quick to jump up when she sees her son shuffle in behind Aizawa. He leaves Midoriya in her capable hands, watching as she cups his face and whispers things he can’t catch and doesn’t try to. Aizawa tears his eyes from Bakugo and continues on into Nezu’s office.

Nezu’s office is alight with dozens of screens and there are piles of paper dotted about like a bomb went off. He can spot several discarded cups scattered about, a sure sign of how affected Nezu is by all of this. If there’s one thing Nezu hates it’s people who hurt someone who can’t fight back. But, in spite of the personal feelings, Aizawa knows he’ll make as fair a judgement as he can.

“Sir.”

“Good, you’re here. We don’t have much time before Bakugo’s parents arrive and I’d prefer if we knew how we plan to move forward before that.”

Nezu finishes catching Aizawa up to speed just in time for the Bakugos to arrive. Which is heralded by a quick knock and Yagi sticking his head into the room just in time for Midoriya Inko’s voice to shake the foundations of the room with a ringing “How dare you!” 

Yagi winces. “Ah… Young Bakugo’s parents are here,” he rushes out and then ducks back out of the room. Nezu and Aizawa glance at each other and stand up, making for the door. The sounds of arguing are muffled behind it but it’s clear that Midoriya Inko is giving Bakugo’s parents a peace of her mind.

Bakugo Mitsuki looks almost comically shocked, mouth hanging open and arms limp at her sides. It’s not so surprising. He’s only met Midoriya Inko once or twice and hardly interacted with her either time but she didn’t strike him as a particularly loud or angry person. If Bakugo’s parents have known her since their children were young it’s possible they’ve never seen her angry enough to yell like this.  

“- ask me to tell them to be lenient with your son after what he helped do to Izuku!”

Bakugo Maseru flinches even though his eyes are already on the floor, shoulders curled in shame as his hands wring together.

Nezu is quick to step in and quiet both families down. He’s, thankfully, much better at getting people to calm down and cooperate than Aizawa himself is. Once both families are settled on opposite sides of the room he says “Alright, now that everyone is here I have to ask you all to please wait just a bit longer while we come to a decision on how we will be proceeding forward. This situation came to light very suddenly and we’ve only just finished reviewing everything. Please be patient with us.” In an unquestioned agreement, Yagi sits in the many chairs between the families to stay behind to supervise the families.

Bakugo Mitsuki looks like she’s going to object, stopped only by her husband’s hand on her arm and a soft “Mitsuki, please.” Midoriya Inko, on the other hand, just nods stiffly, one hand still clenched in her handkerchief and the other tangled with her son’s hand. Her eyes burn and Aizawa has the thought that he might not be at risk of losing only one student today. A glance at Nezu as they close the office door behind themselves tells him he already knows that.  

It takes what feels like an eternity to come to a decision. And even when they do Aizawa isn’t sure it’s the right one. Miraculously, it’s dead silent outside the office. They can only hope it doesn’t mean Midoriya Inko has found a way to quietly murder the Bakugos. At the very least Yagi’s moral dilemma over it would have made some noise.

Both families and Yagi shuffle in, as separated as possible in the chairs arranged in front of Nezu’s desk. There’s no sign of the whirlwind of research that went on just moments before. Papers and cups are cleared, screens put away. Nezu has but a single cup of tea sitting neatly off to the side on a coaster.

Midoriya Inko sits ramrod straight in her chair, Midoriya still tightly clenching one of her hands. Her eyes are red rimmed and shiny but it does nothing to dim the angry aura that surrounds her.

Bakugo’s mother is stiff but silent, her hands clenched around her purse. His father has his hands clasped in his lap, shoulders hunched. Bakugo sits ridged between them, eyes on Nezu as he waits for the principal to give his decision.

“...Technically speaking, by the rules, Bakugo, You never should have stepped foot on this campus. Had your teachers or any other member of the faculty at your past schools done their due diligence your application would have been among the first round of rejections.”

Bakugo doesn’t react to this. His mother’s jaw clenches and his father’s hands tighten, tears pricking at his eyes, but Bakugo doesn’t even blink let alone look away from where Nezu is staring him down.

“That is, of course, only technically speaking. The reality of the situation is a fair bit more complicated. If you were simply a bully who had slipped through the cracks and managed to camouflage yourself to this point you wouldn’t even be sitting in this office right now. I would already have you home with your bags packed and the ink drying on your expulsion paperwork. I have not done that. And I want you and your parents-” His eyes twitch to Bakugo’s mother. Her eyes twitch in a muted flinch. “- to know that this is not because of your potential or the training you’ve already received. This is because your past teachers did not do their jobs.”

At this Bakugo’s eyebrows furrow, just a tiny bit. Nezu reaches down below his desk and pulls out a massive file, the manila folder practically begging for mercy.

“Their handling of the bullying you and the majority of your classmates heaped on Midoriya was unacceptable even before we take into account their own participation. But besides failing Midoriya in that regard they failed you as well when they not only made no effort to correct your behavior but instead encouraged it. Make no mistake, I plan to personally ensure they not only are stripped of their teaching licenses but also barred from reentry to any position that would give them power over another vulnerable person.”

There’s a tiny spark of satisfaction in Midoriya Inko’s eyes but she’s still watching the two of them like a bear watching a very stupid tourist try to play with her cubs.

“For Bakugo himself… I believe your behavior has been encouraged and exacerbated at every turn and every opportunity. And judging by the fact that nearly immediately upon receiving your first correction at UA your behavior has seen improvement, however small it may have been, I believe proves you do have the ability to do better. Additionally, Midoriya himself- the main victim of your actions- has not requested you be expelled on his behalf.”

Midoriya Inko glances at her son who shoots her a pleading look. She purses her lips but squeezes his hand and stays silent.

“But while I want to believe Bakugo has changed and will continue to change for the better and wish to grant him the opportunity to do so I can’t, in good conscious, allow him to run around unchecked around his past victim. So, I believe I've arrived at a compromise that will satisfy everyone."

Aizawa hands both families a folder. “If Bakugo wants to stay a student of this school you need to agree to him being placed on probation.”

He’s not expecting the Bakugos to be happy and they certainly aren’t even though it’s not the expulsion they certainly should expect. After all, it’s barely a step above expulsion.. He’s less sure about the elder Midoriya’s reaction. But a quick glance at her shows that she’s still watching and waiting.

Bakugo's mother bristles at the pages while her husband blanches.

"Th-this is..." he gapes at it, eyes bulging behind his glasses as he looks between Aizawa and Nezu as if hoping this is some sort of prank.

"This is ridiculous is what it is! You can't honestly expect us to agree to this!" she slaps the paper back down on the desk. Midoriya Inko watches her and if Bakugo Mitsuki had an inch of self preservation in her she’d be able to feel those furious eyes on her.

"Would you prefer I simply expelled him?" Nezu asks sweetly. Bakugo Mitsuki's mouth snaps shut. Bakugo Maseru is quick to step in.

"No- no, of course not! But you have to agree these terms are... extreme..." Despite how his parents look at the paper like it's venomous, Bakugo picks it up and begins reading.

"Hm. No. No, I don't think I do agree with that at all. I think, considering the circumstances, it's quite generous. Remember that your son has, on one confirm-able situation, suicide baited Midoriya and caused him both mental and physical harm on many other occasions. And that’s only what I was able to find evidence of on short notice.”

“How can you expect him to never use his quirk-”

“-outside of class exercises and medical necessity- it would be counter productive to sabotage his class performances and I’m perfectly aware he needs to get rid of the excess explosive fluid before it builds up and turns everything he touches into a bomb.”

“You can’t expect him to stay locked up in the dorms-”

“And I haven’t,” Nezu snaps, hands coming up to rest on his desk.

“If you would please direct your attention to the exact wording of the proposed probation you’ll see he is specifically forbidden from leaving campus for leisure reasons unless he is visiting home. Considering what has been brought to light these are, of course, perfectly understandable restrictions. We can't trust his character at this moment in time and we can't monitor him for infractions outside of the school. But we're not monsters and I have no desire to keep him from his family.”

Bakugo Mitsuki allows herself to be pulled back into her chair by her husband. Midoriya Inko just continues to silently watch the interactions in between reading the exact details of the proposal. Nezu continues on.

“Of course, if you choose to go on a family outing you'll be required to report when and where. And naturally I'd recommend not going anywhere that will make it difficult to check up on his behavior since that would look highly suspicious.” From the way the sour look on Bakugo Mitsuki’s face doubles Aizawa can guess that was her exact plan, petty and useless as it’d be.

“Therapy with regular updates on his progress- non-invasive, of course- is a given. We don't just need him to look like he's doing better we need to know he is if we’re going to put the licence to use his abilities on other people in his hands.”

"And telling everyone he interns with during his probation about his private business?" Bakugo Mitsuki hisses.

"Everyone being anyone interested in taking him on as an intern and his teachers. And his private business being only that which has a very public effect on the people around him. They are, after all, risking their reputations by taking him on. To say nothing of their moral compasses."

"Moral compasses?" Bakugo Mitsuki shrieks.

Aizawa opens his mouth to interject but, to his shock, Yagi beats him to it.

“As has already been said, young Bakugo suicide baited Young Midoriya. And he’s going to be his classmate for the next three years- not to mention a co-worker for the rest of their careers. Not only that, we’re now aware that he’s hurt young Midoriya many times for years when Young Midoriya had little to no way of defending himself- and if he chose to he faced far worse consequences for trying to defend himself and whoever else your son’s rage fell on than your son did.” Yagi’s mouth snaps shut, jaw clenched. Aizawa takes his cue to step in.

“The people who teach him and the heroes who are interested in mentoring him have every right to this information. UA's reputation is already, to put it lightly, nearly in the trash. Continuing to teach your son is a risk UA does not have to take. But, somehow, even if your objections had any merit, I don't think they'd matter."

"What do you mean don't-"

Bakugo stands up and lays the probation agreement on the desk. Nezu silently hands him a pen.

"Bakugo Katsuki!"

Bakugo ignores his mother and signs. He holds the pen up in the air when he's done.

"I'm not signing that!" his mother hisses.

Bakugo Maseru stands up and gently pulls the pen from his son's fingers.

"Maseru!" Bakugo's mother yells.

"Mitsuki you know I love you but I'm not throwing away our son's dreams for your pride. And- and they’re right. What he’s done- he needs to prove he’s someone worthy of calling himself a hero. I want him to have that chance. I want him to be better." Bakugo Maseru signs under his son's name and then bows as he hands both pen and paper to Nezu.

“Thank you for taking a chance on my son,” he says. Bakugo Maseru puts his hand on his son's back and for once Bakugo willingly bows, right beside his father.

"Thank you for the opportunity," he says.

"You're welcome, Bakugo. Don't squander it."

"I won't," Bakugo says, fire in his eyes. His father leads him out the door, his mother stalking furiously along behind them. Midoriya Inko watches them go and then turns those burning eyes on Nezu. He meets her head on.

“Before we continue, I do have one thing I’d like to discuss with you I’d like to suggest Midoriya be placed in therapy to address his mistreatment. We will, of course, pay for his treatment.”

“And if I don’t plan to keep my son in school with his old bully?”

“Regardless on if you plan to allow Midoriya to continue to study with us I’d still like to offer to pay for the therapy,” Nezu says smoothly. Midoriya Inko regards him for a moment before turning much softer eyes to her son.

He looks at her with pleading eyes, squeezing her hand tightly. Yagi places a hand on Midoriya’s shoulder, exchanging quick but meaningful looks Aizawa can’t begin to decipher with both Midoriyas.

Midoriya Inko closes her eyes and sighs. She turns to Nezu and Aizawa.

“...Can you promise me that this will actually not be ‘handled’ the way Izuku’s past schools did?”

Nezu nods. “I do. But I understand why words alone might not reassure you. Which is why I’ve included a document for us both to sign to legally bind my word. If I don’t hold to it you will have every ability to take me to court.”

She takes a slow breath and lets it back out again. “I’m going to hold you to that,” she says, and reaches for a pen. Midoriya bursts into tears. Yagi pats his shoulder with a soft smile as Midoriya’s mother signs the paper and passes it to Nezu to sign as well. It doesn’t take Nezu and Midoriya’s mother long to dot the i’s and cross the t’s. As Midoriya Inko leads her son out of the room he glances over his shoulder and meets Aizawa’s eyes. He smiles at him, something wobbly and hesitant but sincere as he vanishes out the door.

In the ensuing silence, Nezu chirps "Well! I think that went well!"

Aizawa lets what feels like all the air in his lungs out and drops his elbow onto his knees, pressing his thumbs to the space between his eyes. Yagi looks no better, head nearly between his knees.

“I think I’d rather go toe to toe with All For One again than learn anything like that has happened to a student again,” Yagi says. It goes unsaid that the whole situation is that much worse for Yagi because of who it’s involved. Nezu comes over to pat his shoulder and push a cup of tea into his hands.

"Was this the right call?" Aizawa asks, voice ragged, as Nezu pushes a cup of tea onto him as well.

"...time will tell," Nezu says.

When Aizawa goes to check in on the kids before lights out he’s surprised to find Midoriya and Bakugo in the kitchen together. They’re not talking and hardly looking at each other but them existing in the same room together is more than he thought he’d see them doing any time soon. Possibly ever. He hesitates in the shadow of the doorway, watching for a bit.

Midoriya stands in front of the fine list, counting out yen in his hand, as Bakugo stands a few feet away, waiting for his tea to seep. As Aizawa watches, Midoriya scoots a few feet closer to deposit his money- hopefully just for when he claimed to be fine during that nightmare of a moment earlier. Before Midoriya has time to step away Bakugo reaches out and silently places a cup of tea in Midoriya’s reach.

Midoriya startles, glancing up at Bakugo. Aizawa can’t read the look that passes between them but Midoriya smiles and ducks his head, taking the tea. Aizawa watches for a few minutes as they sit silently in the kitchen together, drinking tea. As the two boys sit there in the dim light and nurse their cups together in quiet peace Aizawa allows himself a brief moment of fierce pride in their resolve to heal. He looks at them and lets himself believe that even if they’re nowhere near fine today that one day they will be.

Chapter Text

You can expect your average teacher to look to the days following the Midoriya and Bakugo situation and hope some peace and quiet. Just a little because even they won’t bother expecting more than that. Aizawa is not the average teacher. Aizawa knows better than to even expect that much.

He fully expects the next school day to consist of fun activities such as making accidentally stabbing your friends into a fun class hobby or for Kaminari to discover that you can, in fact, create what is basically a human electrical circuit. And for that discovery to immediately go horribly, horribly, wrong. Or maybe even a classic broken bone or five. And yet… Somehow. Against all odds and expectations… a few quiet days is exactly what Aizawa gets.

Nothing more than the usual bruises and scrapes typical of a rowdy group of teenagers. The fine jar collects a few fines here and there but nothing significant. It’s… nice. Quiet. Peaceful.

Aizawa doesn’t trust it for a minute.

“C’mon, Shou, let yourself enjoy it while it lasts.”

Aizawa scowls at his coffee like it holds the secrets for how and why is class is being so… quiet. “That’s exactly the problem. The second I let my guard down something insane is going to happen. Like the dorm blowing up.”

“Why would the dorm blow up?” Mic groans, throwing his hands up. Aizawa stares flatly at him until he thinks that one over.

“Oh. Wait. That might actually be a concern.”

“No. Really? Explosions? A legitimate risk? In a class with a human bomb, a human lighter, someone who can generate whatever she wants-including incendiaries, and- oh, that’s right! Did you know that some forms of acid are highly flammable?”

Just saying it out loud makes Aizawa want to go check that none of his students have managed to set themselves or anyone else on fire.

Midnight leans back from her desk to chime in with a helpful “Fun fact! Flour can also explode!”

“There is nothing fun about that,” Aizawa hisses. Midnight snickers at him as Mic pats him reassuringly on the back.

“But you can’t deny it is a fact!” she says smugly, waving a chocolate covered doughnut at him. Eyes narrowed, he snaps his hand forward and snatches it from her, stuffing it into his own mouth before she can do more than squawk. He doesn’t even like the damn things but sometimes sacrifices must be made to speak in a way that will be understood.

It’s thanks to Mic’s ability to use his lanky limbs to keep the two of them from killing each other while also dialing in an emergency doughnut delivery that Aizawa makes it back to his class with both of his hands. But it was worth it.

He returns to his suspiciously peaceful classroom and waits for a shoe to drop that just keeps refusing to drop. It’s not until the students are filing in after lunch that he gets his first real hint of what’s happening.

Shinsou bumps into Hagakure. It’s not too surprising. He’s not as used to navigating around an invisible classmate as the others. It’s just unfortunate that he’s also carrying a cup of very hot coffee that goes right down Hagakure’s back.

“Fuck- shit- are you okay?” Shinsou asks her, one hand clutching the mostly empty cup and the other hovering like he can’t decide what to do with it.

“How burnt are you?” Aizawa asks, already heading over.

“I’m-” Aizawa braces for the dreaded word but Hagakure pauses. “Um, uh, I’m a bit scalded, I think,” she admits in a small voice. Aizawa stares. Squints a bit.

“I swear that’s all I think it is!” Hagakure blurts out, sleeves waving frantically.

“Okay,” Aizawa says slowly, unable to stop staring. “I’ll write you a hall pass to visit recovery girl.” He turns to Shinsou, eyes the hands now both clenching the mostly empty cup of coffee and the brown stains along his cuffs. “Shinsou?”

Shinsou opens his mouth. Stops. Closes it again. Purses his lips. “I. scalded my hands a bit. Trying to catch it.” he glances over at Hagakure, lips thinning further. “Sorry, again. I should be more careful.”

“It’s okay! It was an accident!”

“Still. I won’t let it happen again.”

He sends both students off to Recovery Girl, keeping in mind a mental note to make sure Shinsou doesn’t fall into a guilt spiral over this. But from the way Shinsou’s shoulders have eased by the time the pair return with freshly healed skin and new uniforms he doesn’t think he’ll have to worry about that. It’s a surreal feeling. So much so that he almost doesn’t realize he’s almost certain that this is the first time since the implementation of the fine jar that someone has gotten significantly hurt and no one has had to pay the jar.

And then, not long after that, Aoyama startles Kaminari so badly he accidentally shocks Kirishima. Which causes Kirishima to bite his pencil in half with so much force shards of it launch across the classroom. There’s not a single person who doesn’t have the instinctive reflex to dodge but Shoji has the misfortune of having too much bulk and too little room to get properly clear.

“Everyone alright?” Aizawa asks. And to his utter shock Shoji raises his hand amidst the chorus of yeses and says “Not quite.” Aizawa’s eyes fall to the lightly bleeding webbing stretching between Shoji’s limbs and the spray of yellow pencil shards across it. It’s not too bad. The worst is the rather large shard of the head of the pencil completely piercing through one the webbing. It’s also the only one really bleeding.

“I can get most of these out myself but Recovery Girl will probably want to look at the big one.”

“…Go to recovery girl,” he says slowly. Shoji nods and stands, accepting the pass when Aizawa hands it to him.

The rest of the class manages to avoid mangling themselves and each other- another minor miracle he doesn’t trust- until joint training with class 1-B at the end of the day.

It’s not a mandatory session since the entire goal is to foster voluntary cooperation. But even so not a single one of either class has opted out. He and Vlad stand back, watching their students intermingle. Keeping a careful eye on the match ups to try and head off any issues. Neither of them expect a problem from Ashido and Bondo sparing. Not until it’s too late.

An unexpected chemical reaction and Ashido utilizing a lesser version of her Acidman super move- one with just enough acid to coat her skin- ends in a burst of flash fire. He and Vlad are both moving the second they see the first spark but it’s Yaoyorozu and her nigh godlike knowledge of chemical compounds that saves the day.

He’s incredibly glad she’s sparing with Kendo just a few feet away. It only takes her a second to process what’s happening and react, throwing out her hands and spewing the correct solution to nullify the reaction.

“Ashido, are you alright?” Yaoyorozu asks.

“I’m fine,” Ashido hisses through her teeth. Aizawa barely has time to open his mouth before she follows it up with “oh, dang it! No! I wreaked the streak!”

“The what?”

“Uhhh…” Ashido exchanges nervous glances with Yaoyorozu and blurts out “I can’t be the one to explain because I have to go to recovery girl! And pay my fine!”

Aizawa raises an eyebrow at Yaoyorozu. “Are you explaining that then?”

Yaoyorozu actually raises her hand and says “I have to take Ashido and Bondo to the nurse!” Aizawa stares at her long enough to let her sweat a bit before he nods slowly.

Yaoyorozu hovers as the nurse bots load the injured two onto the stretchers and follows them out the door. The uninjured members of class 1-B eagerly follow Vlad in escaping to start clean up while the remaining members of Aizawa’s class give each other nervous looks and hope someone else will step up and fill Aizawa in.

“So… who wants to explain what that was about?” he asks the class. Eighteen pairs of eyes suddenly find the gym to be the most interesting building they’ve ever seen. So interesting, in fact, that they simply can’t look at their teacher. Aizawa huffs and crosses his arms. He drags his eyes slowly across his students until they fall on the weakest link.

“Class President? Would you like to explain?”

Iida jolts to attention, as expected. “Ah. Well. Sensei. You see…” Iida stops and forces himself board straight.

“We realized that the purpose of the jar is to teach us to have better care for our own health and properly relaying the level of our injuries so that we can be efficiently treated. And… and as such we came up with a way to… to increase the efficiency of the jar.”

Aizawa’s eyebrows rise higher and higher. “You… what did you do, exactly?”

“We started keeping track,” Asui answers.

“Of time between fines?” he asks

“Of how long it’d been since we forgot we’re important too.” she answers.

“That we aren’t just heroes, that we’re people too.” Uraraka adds. “And we mater just as much as the people we save.”

Ah, Aizawa thinks. Because that’s it, isn’t it? He never stopped to put it into words when he was nearly ripping his hair out that first month. He was watching them bleed and break and brush it off in the same breath. Ready to push forward until they dropped.

It was agonizing to watch. Because he cares about these damn kids. Because they mater, more than just heroes. More than just for what they can give.

They mater when they’re not doing anything more than watching a stupid movie and inhaling junk food to be healthy. They matter when they’re playing hide and seek in the pitch black of the early morning hours because no one could sleep. They just matter. Every second of every day. As constant and steady as breathing.

But he didn’t have the words to say that, even to himself. And so there was a jar. A cheap plastic thing with a slightly sloppily placed handwritten label slammed on a table with a little too much force. A silent plea for them to understand something he couldn’t articulate so much he didn’t even realize he was trying to.

And they did. His stupid, brilliant, students managed to figure it out. I am not going to cry in front of them, he thinks. And when that doesn’t quite quell the urge he thinks I am not going to cry in front of Vlad. Which works better. Enough that he trusts himself to speak without sounding like he’s going to cry.

“I see,” he says, surprised he manages to make it come out so evenly.

Hagakure slumps into Ojirou. “Man… now we have to reset our count! We were so close to our first milestone! I really thought we could make it!”

Ojirou pats her back. “We’ll get there eventually, I’m sure.”

"Yeah, if we work hard maybe we’ll manage it before graduation,” Jirou says with a sarcastic drawl. The whole class groans and slumps.

“Noooo! Don’t jinx us! I want to at least make it to the one month milestone!”

“Milestones?” he asks.

“Yeah!” Kirishima says, eyes lighting up. “It’s like, you know, the carrot and the stick! If we manage to go long enough without having breaking the streak we get a reward! Like an extra movie night or a special meal!”

“I’m baking a cake when we hit one month!” Satou says.

“Just three more days and we’d have hit a week… my extra movie night… it was so close…” Sero slumps so low Aizawa worries he might just fall straight over. Tokoyami puts a hand on his shoulder and pulls him back upright with a solemn look.

“Hold steady, the hour of the horror movie extravaganza will come again.”

“… And the stick part? Or is that just the fine itself?”

“We decided that our system needed it’s own penalty- as it technically exists outside the fine jar system,” says Iida. “Everyone came up with their own punishment for themselves for if they’re the one to break the streak. Ashido will have extra dish duty for a month.”

Ashido hates doing the dishes. Hates it. She has to wear elbow length rubber gloves to wash them to prevent the possibility of accidentally contaminating them with residual chemicals from her acids. It just goes to show how seriously they’re taking this.

“We also did research into retraining your mind to a healthier mindset and we also have to write a reminder of why our injury mattered and read it out to someone in class!” Midoriya adds.

“I still don’t get why we can’t just double up our penalties instead!” Kaminari groans. Iida whirls on him, arm already pivoting.

“The reminder is not meant to be a punishment! It is meant to help you internalize the thought through verbal reinforcement and validation from your peers!”

“I knoooow but it feels so awkward!”

“It’s not supposed to be comfortable, it’s supposed to challenge your current mindset or whatever,” Shinsou says.

 Aizawa tucks his face into his scarf as he fights a smile. “It sounds like a good system. Even though I wish you’d told me before I spent half of this week convinced this was the lull before we got hit with hell month three.”

That gets him a bunch of ducked heads, sheepish smiles, and a wave of “Sorry, sensei!”

He huffs, trying to hide the fondness in the sound, and waves them off “Alright, alright… go help class B clean up and then you’re all dismissed for the day.”

The class scatters, joining the other class in tackling the various areas of disarray. They do their best to clean up what they can. Aizawa supervises, mulling over just how much he’s underestimated his class this time. At least this time it’s a positive, he thinks a little wryly.

Vlad slides up next to him in a way that isn’t subtle at all. He turns his head and raises an eyebrow at him. “Sooo…” Vlad says slowly, completely ignoring the look. “That jar of yours…” he trails off there. Aizawa huffs in impatience.

“What about it?”

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to, y’know, share the details?”

Aizawa crosses his arms, leveling an unimpressed look at Vlad. “The students are about done cleaning up and I know we both have better things to do than shoot the breeze. So if you wouldn’t mind getting to the point?”

"Gods, you’re impatient,” Vlad says, rolling his eyes. “But yeah, sure. Lotta my kids overheard stuff about that jar of yours and they want to co-opt the idea for our class.”

Aizawa blinks, surprised. “Sure,” he says with a loose shrug. “But you’ll have to talk to my students to get all the details.”

Vlad shoots him a curious look and Aizawa turns his face away before Vlad can catch the half smile tugging at his lips. “All I had them doing was paying a fine into a jar when they downplay their injuries. Then they went Plus Ultra while I wasn’t looking and developed a whole system of punishments and rewards for how long they can go as a class without breaking their streak.”

He glances over at Vlad to find the man’s eyebrows so high they’re nearly to his hairline.

Aizawa can’t help but add on “They’ve even gone as far as to add a whole encouragement system too- did their own independent research into it and everything.”

Vlad whistles low and soft.

“Ok, well, I mean… I still think my class is clearly better but… I can admit you’ve got some impressive kids on your hands, Eraser. That’s some serious dedication.”

He doesn’t even try to stop himself from grinning into his scarf at that. “I know.”

Once the students have cleaned up and cleared out he goes back to his own dorm room to try and get as much paperwork done before his patrol as he can. It’s an uneventful patrol and an uneventful school day following it but now that he knows it’s not random chance causing it but the effort and dedication his students he’s not worried.

Luck is fickle. Hard work has substance, a foundation to build on. And Aizawa knows a thing or two about building on that foundation.

There are normal bumps and bruises and little injuries to be expected when you're in regular fights even if those fights are just friendly if competitive training. The kids do pretty good on their efforts to curb their bad habits and reach their first milestone. There are still slip ups, still set backs. But these are his kids and now that Aizawa knows what they're doing it's easy to encourage it, waiting a moment before asking if they're okay so they can form an answer consciously instead of instinctively. And it's no time at all before the kids reach their first milestone.

"One week! One week! One week!" chants the class. Aizawa tunes out the cheering and quells the swell of pride urging him to smile. It still makes for a much more upbeat Monday than usual.

Normally he takes a nap and do some paperwork before his patrol. But today he follows his students out the door, though at a much slower pace.

Eri is just as excited as his students for the party and the class is more than thrilled to include her in the planning process. He can give up a little bit of sleep if it means making her happy.

Between Eri’s arrival at the dorms and the high of the incoming party, the entire class is nearly vibrating with energy. He’s torn between wanting to get the hell out of dodge as fast as possible before the extrovert energy overwhelms him and staying to make sure they don’t blow anything up or set anything else on fire.

It’s a close internal battle but in the end his sense of duty and belief that his students can refrain from dangerous activities for one night for Eri’s sake wins out.

“Alright,” he says and each of his students snap to attention. “I’m heading out for patrol, you lot know the rules. Eri, make sure they don’t blow themselves up.” She nods like this is a deadly serious task she’s been entrusted with and not Aizawa joking.

Well. Half joking. He’d rather his students not blow themselves up if at all possible but he isn’t about to make that Eri’s responsibility.

He has a perfectly average patrol. He takes down petty criminals, discourages the rambunctious youths prowling the nights from causing too much trouble, and makes it home in time to pick Eri up and put her to bed at a decent hour.

The rest of the week passes in similarly mundane fashion, marked only by the slowly ramping up energy in the classroom as Friday edges closer, heralding in the Saturday of the party. The only other thing even close to noteworthy is Aizawa’s own growing tiredness.

With Eri visiting the dorms every night Aizawa can’t take as many naps as usual and his post patrol routine is just a little bit longer, stealing just a sliver more precious sleep from him. But its worth it to see both his students and Eri light up. He doesn’t mind being more tired than usual if it comes with listening to Eri excitedly chatter about helping Satou prep ingredients or helping Midoriya sketch out party decor placements.

When the heavily anticipated Friday finally comes he picks Eri up as per usual. Nezu now has her on creating branching back up plans. A very practical lesson even if it’s slightly terrifying to watch Nezu plan out a veritable chessboard of counter plans for an imagined governing body that worryingly resembles the hero commission.

…Best not to worry about that one. Either Nezu is just letting off steam or, well. Aizawa has enough on his plate without making that his problem. Nezu will get him involved if he needs him.

As he’s dropping Eri off with the class for one last party prep session, Yaoyorozu stops him.

“Oh! Um. Sensei. Before you go… Sero is making cupcakes for the party and we were wondering if you have a favorite flavor?”

He blinks slowly. “Shouldn’t you be picking your own favorites?”

“Oh we’re going to make everyone’s favorite! That’s why we were wondering- well. I mean. We- we know you’re busy and you spend more than enough time on us as it is but. Well… we wanted to thank you, even if a few cupcakes aren’t much, really.”

“It’s not necessary. I’m your teacher, I have a duty of care for you all.”

Yaoyorozu fidgets.

“Still. Not every teacher does even half as much as you and, well, we all feel you’ve gone well beyond anything that would be expected of you. And- And your part of this class too, and we’d like to share this with you, if you’re willing.”

Ah. Well. He can’t really say no to that, can he?

“I haven’t really had cupcakes in a while, I’ll have to give it some thought.”

Yaoyorozu brightens and nods quickly. “Of course! There’s plenty of time still! And if there’s anything else you’d like to add to the party we’d welcome your input!”

 “I’ll think it over.”

“Thank you, Sensei, have a good patrol!”

He’s not smiling as he leaves with a quiet nod. He’s also not smiling when he finishes getting ready for his patrol and sets out. Not even a little bit, nope.

Patrol is, for the most part, fairly tame. A few would be muggers. An attempted petty robbery. And one set of teenagers he catches in the middle of vandalizing something. He puts the fear of god in them and then hands them off to be lectured and assigned community service hours. The most exciting his night gets is when a couple of drunks get a little too rowdy and decide it’s a good idea to bring their quirks into a bar fight. And even that is quickly broken up. Drunks don’t make for a difficult fight.

He worries about his students. He muses about the party. His mind even wanders to paperwork and grading it’s so boring a night. Stupid of him. It’s exactly the kind of night and exactly the kind of mindset to set him up for a rookie mistake.

He’s so distracted, so bored, so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice when muscle memory fails him and his movements drift off course. Just off course enough that when he casts out his scarf for the next swing he’s off enough to do something he hasn’t done since he was a high schooler.

He misses.

There’s no time for anything but shock and surprise as he’s falling. A roof breaks his fall and several of his ribs at the very least. He rolls off it, bounces off a fabric awning, and hits the ground shoulder first. His arm shrieks in pain in time with his ribs. He’s hurt himself enough times to know they’re both broken. His hip and leg aren’t much better but the cacophony of pain isn’t the right pitch for them to be broken. Badly bruised but not broken.

Fuck, he thinks. And then once more for good measure, Fuck.

Ok. Stay calm. You know what to do here. Hit your emergency signal and stay as still as possible.

And Of fucking course he’s laying on the emergency beacon. He tries to move as little as possible as he wiggles his good hand under himself until he can reach it. It gives a comforting little vibration when it’s active. He sighs in relief.

Laying on the ground, waiting for back up to come, there’s plenty of time to think. And the thought that stands out the most isn’t the fact that this is his third broken arm this year or the pain he’s in. It’s shit the party.

Recovery Girl is… thoroughly unamused with him. She’s even less amused when he asks if it’s possible for her to completely heal him in one night.

“You know perfectly well that I’m no miracle worker!” she says, looking like she’d dearly love to be whacking him over the head. If he weren’t already so injured she probably would be.

“You have six broken ribs, you’ve bruised the bone on your hip and your leg, your entire side is one mass of surface level bruises and scrapes, and you have multiple stress fractures along the impact points! What could possibly justify putting the level of strain on your body needed to heal that in such a short period?”

“1-A just reached a milestone for the fine jar. The reward is a party… which is supposed to be tomorrow. They want me to be a part of it.”

Recovery girl sighs. “You’re worried they’ll cancel if you can’t come.”

He nods. “They worked hard for this, I don’t want to ruin it for them.”

She stares at him for long enough a moment that he worries she’s going to say no. Then she sighs and pinches her nose.

“When exactly are they having the party tomorrow?”

“They were planning on leaving the morning for training and homework, setting up during the afternoon, and having the party in the evening.”

Recovery girl mutters to herself, too softly for Aizawa to parse out what she’s saying. Finally she groans and rubs her hand over her face.

“I think I can fix your arm and some of your ribs tonight. And maybe get you down to at least bruises. Against my better judgement.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t. I’m only entertaining this because the last thing I want is to discourage those kids from learning good habits. If it weren’t for that I’d have you sedated until Monday- especially with that stunt you pulled after usj.”

She gives him a dirty look he does his best to avoid as she leans in to press a kiss to his forehead. The exhaustion hits him as hard as he hit the pavement tonight.

He can… probably hide whatever Recovery Girl can’t fix before the party. At least until the end of the party. He can probably even duck out of it early if necessary. Hopefully not so early that the students think he doesn’t want to be there.

Tomorrow is going to be… challenging. His students are clever. The slightest slip up and they’re sure to latch on and start digging. He just has to be sure they don’t get that chance.

Except, well. Things don’t work out that way.

Aizawa wakes up to birdsong and sunlight clawing it’s way through a crack in the curtains and straight into his eyes. He grumbles and turns his head away into something warm at his side that tickles his nose.

“Sorry, Sensei,” Hagakure whispers “Let me get that for you.” the sunlight vanishes and he relaxes with a soft huff, ready to let his exhausted body sink back in to sleep.

It takes Aizawa a good solid moment to realize what, exactly, is wrong here. He forces his eyes open a crack. The first thing he sees is waves of white and a single stubby horn. Eri is curled into his side on the cot, a vaguely familiar blanket tucked around her.

Groggily, he leans back and looks around the room to find what looks like the majority of his class scattered about the room. It’s clear they had to get creative to fit even this many of them into the room.

As many chairs as can reasonably be expected to fit in the room while still leaving it possible to navigate are crammed in. Some are the type Recovery girl keeps in her infirmary though there is only supposed to be two in this room. The rest are a mish mash of ones he’s pretty certain are borrowed from the dorms and ones he doesn’t recognize at all. Yaoyorozu’s work, most likely. That or his students ransacked the city for spare chairs. He’s not sure which he prefers.

Even with all the chairs there’s still students left without. Some have commandeered the other cots in the room, bundling as many of themselves as can be expected. The others…

Hagakure reveals the location of the rest of the class when she finishes readjusting the curtains, turns around, and reaches a hand up to the ceiling. A familiar pink padded hand reaches down to high five her. Aizawa follows the hand back to it’s owner and finds the remaining students hanging out on the ceiling. He stares. Uraraka blinks innocently at him and hands Hagakure a melon bread. It looks homemade, marking it as most likely Satou’s doing.

“Good morning, Sensei,” she says.

“… Good morning. What are you doing?”

“On the ceiling? It’s good practice.”

“Oh is he awake? Good morning, Sensei!” Hagakure says, turning to wave at him. Bits of crumb fall to the floor. Aizawa watches them fall and raises his eyebrow at her.

“Recovery girl said it’s fine as long as we clean up after ourselves and don’t break anything,” Hagakure says, shyly reaching up to cover her mouth- well, presumably.

“And she said all of you could be in here?”

Kaminari beams from the blanket for built over a cot in the corner and occupied by himself, Jirou, and Yaoyorozu. “She said that it was fine since us being here meant the likelihood of her needing all of these beds went way down,”

Iida clears his throat. “I believe her exact words were that if we’re quietly watching over our teacher then she won’t need to worry about us mangling ourselves while you’re out of commission and have the entire class taking.”

“At least I know I’m not going to have to face down Recovery Girl. Though that doesn’t explain how you all knew to come here.”

Twenty pairs of eyes find something to look at other than their teacher.

“Sorry…” Eri mumbles. Aizawa glances down to find her sheepishly worrying the hem of her dress. “Yamada-san came to get me and I got worried because you weren’t there so he said you had to stay overnight with recovery girl and I got scared-”

She stops her panicked ramble when Aizawa puts his hand on her head and gently ruffles her hair.

“Sorry for scaring you. I’m fine-”

“JAR!” echoes from twenty one voices. Aizawa freezes and stares at Eri and his students. For a moment they’re frozen in their nerves. Then the explode into movement.

“You said it yourself! You agreed! Jar rules apply to you too!”

“You told Eri-chan you’d do it!”

“You must not break your oath to the fairness princess-”

“Sensei I apologize for the ruckus, however, we are correct that you did agree that the rules of the Fine Jar apply to you as well and they clearly state that-” Iida’s arm chops vigorously as he lectures. Uraraka floats over his head, counting on her fingers. She reaches down and grabs Iida by the shoulders.

“How much does he owe the jar? Help me do math!”

Iida pauses his lecture to confer with her, tallying just how much he owes the jar now. Aizawa opens his mouth to get them all under control. Before he can make an attempt the door slams open.

“I take it from the commotion you lot aren’t supposed to be making that he’s awake?” Recovery girl taps her syringe cane and the class comes to attention, silencing themselves and straightening. “Well, at least the noise let me know he was up. Run off now, I need to have a word with your idiot teacher while I patch him up some more.”

 The kids are quick to evacuate, lest they insecure Recovery Girl’s wrath. Eri says a quick goodbye as she’s plucked up and tucked under Midoriya’s arm. His other hand is busy acting as a tether for Uraraka, who reaches down and taps Eri so she can play human balloon too.

“Don’t forget you owe the jar like 700 yen!” Uraraka says as she’s towed out the door, careful to make sure Eri doesn’t bump into the frame.

Silence falls as the last student vanishes behind the swinging door. Recovery girl turns back to him, sighs, and then settles onto one of the chairs by the bed.

“So, first things first. Give me a rundown on how you feel this morning. And don’t say fine because I’m not above snitching.” Aizawa tries to tell himself he doesn’t feel intimidated. He fails.

After she finishes evaluating him Recovery Girl settles back in her chair with a soft huff.

“Well. That little plan fell apart completely.”

Aizawa can only nod as he mentally kicks himself for forgetting to account for Eri’s reaction.

“A good thing, I suppose, we both gave those kids far less credit than we should have.”

“Somehow I always manage to. Did they say anything about their party?”

“Well it’s nearly the afternoon now. But they did their homework while waiting for you to wake up. Then their plan is to train and do whatever prep work they can tonight so they can have the party in the morning. Which will give them plenty of time to wind down and clean up before Monday. And gives me plenty of time to get you in party condition.”

…That is an extremely simple solution for something that didn’t even once occur to him in his panic last night. “…Well now I feel stupid for not thinking of that.”

“Stupid and about 700 yen shorter! Though, to be perfectly honest, I almost feel like I should be paying something to that jar for going along with it.”

“I think the students were thinking more of buying you something with the money, rather than having you pay in.”

Recovery Girl snorts. “The only reward I need is seeing those kids develop less destructive habits towards their health.”

He gives her a flat stare.

“… Nezu bought me a very nice bottle of my favorite gin awhile back.”

He coughs back a snort. Figures. Nezu is always on top of any given situation. Always.

“Speaking of favorites, your students wanted to remind you that they wanted to know what kind of cupcake flavor you wanted for the party.”

Aizawa pauses. Between his accident on patrol and the chaos of this morning he there wasn’t time to give it too much thought. It’s a bit of a silly thing to think so much on, all things considered, but it’s also such a small thing for his students to ask of him. Too small to ignore. He wracks his brain for the last time he bought himself anything cake related. Other than the doughnut he stole from Midnight recently. He ate that out of spite more than genuine enjoyment. And he doesn’t think there are doughnut cupcakes. Or if there is he really doesn’t want to know.

He’s never been one for sweets, really, so it’s no surprise he comes up empty. He thinks further back, trying to shake any idea loose, and is rewarded with an old, dusty, faded memory. It’s a little painful in the way all old griefs are. But there’s good things there too. Things that he might be ready to have again.

A rooftop, two old friends, and a misunderstanding. Aizawa’s jelly packets aren’t fruit flavored but Hizashi and Oboro didn’t know that. And they’d wanted a cake they all could enjoy to celebrate their provisional licensees.

“I don’t remember the name. But it was some kind of sponge cake with powdered sugar on top and strawberry jam and buttercream between the layers.”

Recovery Girl hums as she takes out her phone and taps a message out. After a moment she shows him a picture of a cake that looks reasonably similar if much less squashed and obviously homemade than the one presented to him by his friends.

“Yeah that looks like it.”

“Victorian sponge cake, very classic,” she tells him as she types on her phone again, presumably relaying this to one of his students.

“Tell them they don’t need to go out of their way if they don’t have what they need to make it.”

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Iida is already at the store with a few other students, picking up last minute supplies.”

Aizawa freezes, looking at her with trepidation. His class do not have a good tract record with shopping trips.

“Midnight went along to prevent any incidents.”

He breathes a sigh of relief.

Recovery Girl lets him leave with strict instructions not to over do it. No training, no patrol, no physical hero work. He’s on strict paperwork duty. Plenty of hours between now and the party to catch up on some paperwork. Horrifying.

The first thing he does isn’t paperwork. It’s visit the dorms to pay his fine. He did give his word, after all.

Aizawa opens the door to 1-A’s dorm and finds party prep well underway. The whole class isn’t there but there’s a good number of them dotted about helping Satou with his baking and getting underfoot of Bakugo’s cooking all while Yaoyorozu directs her classmates in decorating the common room for the party. What students aren’t there he assumes are probably out training or with Iida on the last minute party supply run.

He spots Eri helping Sero hang streamers just as she spots him. She drops the roll she’s helping hold and slams into his leg. He huffs, laying a hand on her back.

At the dorms, he finds roughly half the class plus Eri setting up for the delayed party. The other half, he assumes, must be either with Iida or out training.

They swarm him the second they notice him in the doorway, tasks abandoned and occasionally going flying. Eri slams into his leg, he settles a hand on her back with the smallest of smiles sneaking onto his face.

Questions fill the air as his students crowd around. He can hardly tell who asked what or what they even asked.

By the time the crowd of worried students disperses Aizawa is somehow on the couch with tea in one hand, a plate of food in the other, and 700 yen less than he came in with. He blinks, watching his own bewildered expression in the surface of his tea. He lets out a little huff of a laugh and settles back against the cushions. He drinks the tea and eats, watching the mild chaos of his students and Eri preparing for the party.

Streamers are hung in wild twists and curls. balloons are filled and dotted about in colorful bunches. Brightly colored tablecloths are laid out.

He catches sight of one particular pattern and nearly inhales his tea trying to choke back laughter as he recognizes banana mic in all his glory. A closer inspection reveals that all of the tablecloths are various designs from that old "Fruity UA Heroes!" set.

He wants to go take a discrete picture of it to torment Hizashi with later but the just the thought of getting up and walking over is exhausting. His eyes droop and he feels himself listing off to the side. He can’t bring himself to care.

He doesn’t notice the student that slips over and slides the empty cup and plate out of his grasp. Or Eri slip up the stairs to the boys’s side of the dorm. The patter of tiny feet barely reaches him until he feels something soft fall over him.

Aizawa blinks open heavy eye. Eri determinedly arranges a familiar blanket over him. She catches sight of him looking and squirms, looking strangely nervous. He hums softly at her, blinking slowly like she’s one of the nervous street cats he needs to soothe from time to time.

“This is my favorite blanket so Deku said I could borrow it whenever I wanted,” she says, pulling it up over him and tucking it in with tiny hands. She looks up at him, oddly nervous.

“Is that good? You always make sure everyone is comfy. Deku says Recovery Girl’s quirk makes you super tired. I don’t want you to have to do stuff while you’re really tired.”

“Yeah, s’good,” he manages to mumble. Sleep takes him before he can stop to process exactly how embarrassed and touched he wants to be.

He wakes up to soft voices and the sound of a shutter clicking. He grumbles and cracks open an eye. Most of his vision is full of white hair but he can make out Nemuri and Hizashi hovering over him, grins on their faces.

“What?” he grumbles.

“Shh, you’ll wake her,” Hizashi whispers. Aizawa glances down to find Eri curled in his arms, sound asleep. He sits up, smoothly and gently shifting her with him, and stands. A blanket pools around his feet. He blinks down at it. Ah, he thinks with all the airs of a man who knows it’s too late and his doom is already here.

“How many did you take?” he whispers, careful to keep his voice smooth lest he wake Eri.

Nemuri’s lips twitch.

“So many,” Hizashi answers, smug.

“And unless you want to wake Eri there’s nothing you can do about it,” Nemuri adds, waving her phone mockingly.

He gives her a narrow eyed glare but she’s right. They’re both right. He won’t risk waking her. And based off how dark and quiet it is the day is over, his students have finished their party prep, and everyone is asleep. He doesn’t want to wake them up and cause a ruckus, especially not before the party they all worked so hard for.

“… You two live. For now.”

Nemuri sticks her tongue out. Hizashi snickers softly.

Aizawa carries Eri home and puts her to bed before putting himself to bed as well. The next time he wakes up it’s to Eri sitting at the end of the bed, staring at him as she silently and patiently waits for him to wake up in spite of how she’s almost vibrating with excitement.

He manages to contain her long enough to get her clean, fed, and dressed but he isn’t so cruel as to make her wait while he checks in with Recovery Girl. So he puts her in Miro’s capable hands to deliver her to the dorms while he gets his clean bill of health from Recovery Girl.

By some act of cosmic mercy, the party goes off without a hitch.

He eats his cupcakes, ghosts of old friends and all. The kids do party games and somehow manage to convince him to join at least a round or two. The party winds down with a movie marathon. For once Aizawa isn’t the one tucking his class in and turning the TV off. He’s too busy snoring away alongside them.

“He fell asleep too, huh?” Mic says softly. Midnight hums as she snaps a few quick pictures of Aizawa, Eri, and the class slumbering away. Not for blackmail material- well not only for it- but for the memories.

Later will bring tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that. And every tomorrow will bring new problems. New struggles. New failures and triumphs that don’t always feel like they outweigh them.

New friends. New enemies. New people to grieve. But there will be days like this one too.

Days where sweet cream and strawberries swallow down beside an old grief that doesn’t feel quite so hard to swallow around and doesn’t go  down as bitter as it does yesterday.

Today is a celebration. And if tomorrow is an ordeal it will be one Aizawa goes into confident that his students will do all they can to meet it with every intention of coming out of the other side as intact as possible. And if not intact then at least prepared to repair and rebuild as best they can.

And it does.

And they do.