Archive of Our Own ^beta

Green hair. 

Knotted, messy, but overall soft. 

Like a kittens, Shouta mused dejectedly to himself, watching as it gently swayed in the wind of the ac. 

He thinks. 

He thinks about a lot of things, really. 

(His mind never stops, never rests, can’t rest- Always on overdrive, always planning the next step...) 

Thinks about all the things he's done in his life. 

(His wasted life. A life he constantly tries to excuse with logic, what if’s, even if it doesn’t work - he could’ve done so much more - saved so many more - if only he worked harder-) 

As a friend, a lover, a teacher, and a hero. 

Of all his accomplishments, impacts... 

Especially his failures. 

(Spirals. All he does is spiral when he’s not working, not thinking - if he wasn’t overworking himself into the dirt, then he was falling down the rabbit hole that was his mind. Walking through a never ending maze of negatives, memories, and failures. A theater, his thoughts and brain were, playing the images over and over and over - repeating the scenes of all his shortcomings, of all the horrible things he’d witnessed because he wasn’t fast, or strong, or smart enough. Because he wasn’t good enough- ) 

Lungs stutter and his throat hitches. Dragging in a deep breath through his teeth, he tries to dispel any and all dark perceptions that continue to conjure in his mind. Hazy blobs of color form and mesh into a plethora of depictions; of cloud soft blue hair buried far beneath crumbled concrete; of pale, crusty hands encompassing young baby-fat faces; of multitudes of swords stabbed recklessly in still and bloodied bodies; of deep, searing cremation blue flames licking at everything within its fiery grasp. 

What if, the raven’s mind always whispers, seemingly to mock him, you had done it this way? 

And everytime he can’t help but let the little tickle that breathes in his ear continue and lead him somewhere that even he as a hero was afraid to glimpse.

Eyes black and dark, covered in a sheen of lost thoughts and past memories, looking like that of slick tarry oil. 

Eyes dark, like his hair, like his clothes, like his thoughts. 

What if, it once again inquired slyly, you had been too late?  

With the thought pressed to the front of his consciousness, the raven turned to carefully look over the sleeping form of his young student resting against his side, observing gingerly as green locks that seemed dusted in coal fluttered languidly against the wind pressure of the ac. 

~ Think, Rethink, and Regret ~

The large room was bright against his eyes, pale white reflecting near glaring fluorescent glows into the faces of anyone there. A migraine was creeping upon him, slowly dipping around the nooks and crannies of his mind, trying to swallow his head whole and fill him with a pounding ache. 

He wants to leave. 

He wants to leave (he’s been here so many times over the years - too many for his comfort-) , but he can’t. Not just yet. 

No matter how strong the smell of the many mixed antibiotics sitting in the air; no matter the pitched screams and screeches of crying children littered about; of the howling sobs of devastated families; of the bloody and maimed humans writhing in place from pain. No matter the discomfort of the scratchy plastic chair, of the light, of the sound and the smell and the air and how stale everything seemed to be - of dried iron, squished bodies, the ticking and dinging of clocks and phones and watches and alarms left unanswered or unattended - of the repeated sounds of yelling and breathing and it was hot, kami did they never open a window or something? Geez it’s humid, but also so cold - how much longer do I have to sit here - Midoriya is hurting- 

No matter how much the room (the whole place honestly) makes Shouta shiver, shake, and desperately want to crawl back into the empty calm darkness that was his room - crawl into the void space while his husband was away at work so that he could be alone to feel nothing , nothing at all, because kami, this is too much - he can’t, he just can’t-

He stays.  

Shouta stays, and he sits, and he holds his student close to his larger body while the young boy breathes softly (at least he’s breathing, at least he’s breathing-), because for fuck sakes it was his job to be there when his students needed him most - and right now? Right now was that moment. 

(The raven was trying to ignore all the times he wasn’t there, all the times he failed- ) 

The hero blinks heavy eyes, the inky orbs dry as usual, and sluggishly turns them to the clock. Three hours. Three hours since he’s been there, sat in the uncomfortable chair, holding his young student like their lives depended on it (and in a sense, it really did, because Shouta wasn’t sure he’d survive one more loss, one more death at his feet - the blood on his hands, one he could have prevented if he’d just done a bit more, was a bit better-). Eyebrows raised as he realized how much time had passed without him noticing. Almost two hours since he’d fallen victim to himself - almost two hours since he’d drifted; eyes shaded in a grey sheet, ears stuffed full of cotton, tongue like cold lead in his mouth, body stiff and tense -  his everything feeling all and nothing at once, feeling every little thing in the hospital while also completely numbed from the world - it was too much. 

Ticking seemed to boom over the noise of everything, and Shouta felt frustration bubbling beneath his skin - twitching his fingers, crossing his eyebrows, and pulling his lips down. The older man wants to get up. Wants to get up, march over to some poor, unsuspecting nurse, call out to them and demand why in the ever-loving hell was it taking so long to get his kid treated?! He wants to, desperately spins the idea over and over in his mind, but he realistically knows he can’t. Not just because it was an absolutely dick move, but because Shouta knows the reason it’s taking so long in the first place. 

A villain fight. One right nearby actually - maybe within about six blocks? All the rooms at the hospital were filled - overstuffed to the brim actually - in house and out. 

The med staff were treating people in the damn lobby for fuck’s sake! It was of no thought that after taking one look over him and his kid that they’d pushed them to the side as a low priority, even with his hero license. Even so, the hospital still had protocol - so after Shouta had rushed in with the kid, and they’d gotten their once over, they were pushed to the side with the promise that someone would eventually get to assisting them, just not at that moment. 

Shouta knew the promise was empty. 

Granted, he really couldn’t be too mad at the situation - as far as the raven could tell, Midoriya wasn’t physically hurt - no noticeable damage had been seen. The young boy hadn’t been physically wounded during that moment - no, he'd just been so, so close that Shouta had panicked. Had panicked so much that he’d snatched up his student like a protective mother during a crowd rush and raced them both to the nearest hospital at the time, because damn, the school had been just a bit too far away (because he couldn’t deal with, couldn’t handle the pain and torture and regret that loss was, that came with the absence of just one person. Couldn’t deal with facing the boy’s mother, his friends, nor even himself. He couldn’t face it-), and even though he disliked (hated) hospitals, he wouldn’t take the chance that the kid could’ve been injured. 

The hero gazes over his sleeping student once more, body feeling swamped over in wet cement, subconsciously trying to drag him into a sleeping state as well. But he can’t sleep just yet - no, not until someone treats his kid - he can’t miss any opportunity that might arise to see a doctor. 

A slight tussle and push to his side has his mind ripping itself from his subconscious and actually focusing on the boy. Midoriya only moves in a bit closer, tucking his face closer between their two bodies, most likely out of a need for some type of cover against the ac behind them. 

Shouta looked on gently. 

He thinks. 

What if, his mind once more pulls him back to regurgitate the thoughts, what if you hadn't made it? 

What if, he succumbs easily, letting the question win out and repeating on his own, what if I hadn’t stopped him…? 

He thinks.

Green hair, soft and messy, flutters in the ac. 

~ Think, Rethink, and Regret ~

Shouta hadn’t thought much of it, ironically enough. 

He needed to go on patrol, his student had needed to be dropped off at his grandparents house that weekend - they were leaving at the same time, so it wouldn’t kill him to stay with Midoriya until he got there, especially because he just happened to be patrolling that area as well that night, right? Things had lined up well, and Shouta didn’t mind taking advantage of that small fact. 

Small victories, after all. 

(Everything seems to revolve around “just happened’s”) 

They had gotten on a train, bags and necessities all on them, and left, heading towards the more outskirt areas of Musutafu, one a bit far away from UA. 

They’d sat quietly, his student going through his plenty analysis notebooks diligently; updating things here and there, and crossing other’s out (and kami, did he have some incredible information in those books - I should tell him to keep those books of his locked up somewhere, or to code them so that they’ll be useless in the wrong hands-) as the trained continued to crick and chuck as it sped over its tracks. It wasn’t long before their stop came up, and soon enough they were both exiting the train, Midoriya leading them to his grandparents home. It was when they’d just approached a cute little store that his student turned his attention to him. 

“I-I’ll walk home from h-here Aizawa-sensei! There’s on-only a few more blocks to the house, bu-but I wanted to pick up some things from the store first! B-but only if i-it’s f-fine-” The raven held up his hand to quiet the boy so he could respond, though it was also accompanied by a skeptical look. 

“How long do you think it’ll be before you get to your grandparents?” He gruffed out. The younger seemed to think for a moment, almost as if he was counting the time in his head. Finally after a few seconds he responded. 

“Give or take an hour maybe? Th-that includes w-walking h-home, though!” Shouta hummed, thinking to himself about how many problems they’ve had this year already. Glancing over to the store and then down the street as if he could see Midoriya’s home, he rolled it over in his mind. It’s only a few blocks… I’ll also be patrolling the area, and the Problem Child has his phone… If anything happens I’ll be here… 

“Alright, go ahead,” A small cheer and ‘thanks sensei!’, but he interrupted once again, “But don’t get into shit, Problem Child, and make sure you text me when you get home,” 

“Alright!” He turns to leave, when he decides to tack on one more thing. 

“If I don’t get a text in the next two hours - an hour longer than your estimated time, I might add - then expect me at your door, as well as dorm cleaning duty for a week,” Another, more nervous, ‘Alright!’ and then they were both off for good, going separate ways. 

It was an hour and a half into his patrol that Shouta felt something was off. He’d been crouched on the edge of a rooftop, searching around the darker areas of the city for any crime when the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end. At first the raven had thought something was going down nearby, so he’d started to turn his head every which way, listening intently for any sounds of a scuffle. But nothing showed, and as he was about to go back to just patrolling around, the alarm in his gut went off, and he suddenly remembered that Midoriya was supposed to have texted him. 

Quickly whipping out his phone, he checked his notifications for any sign of his student. None. Glancing at the time showed him that the two hours was almost up, but that the kid still had another twenty minutes left, so he let it go uneasily, trying to convince himself that Midoriya had just gotten distracted. He was a diligent student, after all, when it came to things like this, even if he was cutting it a bit close this time. But then ten minutes passed with no sign of him, and then suddenly another fifteen - five more than he was allowed. 

Already Shouta was rushing in the direction of Midroiya’s grandparents, his phone back in his hand and hovering over the messenger icon. Picking the Problem Child’s contact, he began to type out quick short texts. 

Me: 

Hey are you home?

Xx:xx - unread

Me: 

Problem child.

Do you want detention?

Xx:xx - unread

Me: 

Text me back when you see this.

If I find out nothing’s wrong, you’re getting two weeks detention.

And you’ll be sitting out of heroics analysis for a week.

Xx:xx - unread 

Even before sending the other texts he knew something was wrong, Midoriya wasn’t the type to ignore messages, no matter the situation. Instead he chooses to move onto the next best option - phone tracking. After all the students were placed into the dorms, it was required that all the students get an emergency track put onto their phones. They would be off all the time, unless a situation like this happened, in which the school would then be able to turn on the tracker in order to find the student. So, with a few taps here and there, Shouta had a map in front of him showing the location of his student. 

He followed it all around, looping back near to where the store was, just a few blocks down. He’s right near his grandparents…? Then why isn’t he home yet? The raven stops in place and stares more intently at the map. The little light blinks, showing him that his student was practically right on top of him - but where was he? Taking the chance that the kid wasn’t being held hostage by some thug, Shouta clicks off the map and pulls up his contacts, calling Midoriya’s number. 

A second, then two before the phone tells him that his student's phone is ringing. It’s at that moment that he hears a distant noise, and when he listens closer he can distinctly hear that it’s his student's ringtone - if a bit echoey. The problem though, was that it wasn’t coming from anywhere around him, no. It was coming from above him. 

His neck practically snaps with the speed that he throws his face up to the roofs of the buildings. 

Automatically do his eyes zero in on the silhouette seemingly walking towards the edge of the roof. Without a second of hesitation, Shouta’s throwing himself up the side of the building, his lungs burning as he yells out to his student. He runs his throat raw with how much he practically screams - but no matter how much he says, no matter how loud he gets, Midoriya doesn’t answer. Doesn’t respond. The boy doesn’t even seem to notice his presence at all in the first place. 

His student keeps walking closer and closer to the edge; taking one step, then another, then another, then another - not necessarily slow, but calm, at peace almost, ignoring his panicking teacher as the hero desperately climbs up the side of the building. He’s finally swinging himself up, and as he’s launching himself over the railing Shouta lets one end of his capture scarf release from the building to wrap around his student, pulling the boy back from the ledge and directly into his chest as he plants both feet onto the gravel of the rooftop. Once Shouta was confident that the both of them had their feet on solid ground and were secured to the building, he finally took the scarf wrapped around the both of them and loosened it, tying it differently so that they could move independently again. 

Panic, anxiety, fear, and so many other things crash into Shouta like a wave, swelling throughout his whole body like a tide, and almost viciously swallowing him up and drowning him. Even though he separated just seconds ago to give them space, he can’t help the way he pulls his student back into his chest; arms wrapped around the smaller body, one hand cupping the back of green locks, the other around holding him tightly and protectively. He doesn’t even notice his own face falling into dark curls and breathing deeply; all he can think about is what would have happened if he’d just been a bit too late, and the thoughts terrify him to no end. Strong arms squeeze the smaller body closer, shaking gently from the situation at hand, so close that Shouta had a passing thought that he might suffocate his student, but that doesn’t deter him. 

A noise of surprise has him jolting and pulling back once again, turning his head to be face to face with the freckled boy. 

“I-... Aizawa… sensei?” It comes out whispered, surprised, scared, disbelieving, and all Shouta can do is gently squeeze his hands where he’d placed them on the boy’s shoulders and nod, gently taking one of them to card it through the youngers hair and brush his cheek, his own face trying to seem neutral, but twisting up in multitudes of emotions.

“It’s alright kid, it’s alright... I got you,” 

~ Think, Rethink, and Regret ~

Shouta doesn’t think for once, no, instead he acts. He acts, and while he acts, also decides that everything else besides what he’s doing was unimportant. He doesn’t ask questions, he doesn’t do an examination for injuries (for fuck's sakes, what the hell was he thinking?!), he doesn’t even speak - he just wraps Midoriya up tightly in his capture weapon, and secures the young boy to his back, before sprinting across the rooftops to the nearest hospital. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, doesn’t know if the boy was injured really, he just knows that his student just tried to jump off the roof of a building. So there he was, rushing off to the hospital so that they can check to make sure everything is A-OK. But even through that, he could hear the gentle whispered, yet slightly hysterical, even fearful, mutterings flowing behind his ears above the wind. 

They younger probably had no clue that Shouta could hear almost everything that rolled off his tongue - and while usually that would stop Shouta from listening, especially in the case that it was something the kid was trying to work out themselves or working up the courage to say to him, it didn’t in this moment. The raven was just too edged, too wired with white hot anxiety zapping through his veins. His ears instantly clutched onto the noise, and soon enough he was pulling in information and categorizing it around his brain for later as he listened about a boy Midoriya had gone to school with just back in junior high. One that had a quirk that was something akin to hypnosis - something about forcing you to enact your most prominent thought. One that seemed to hate Midoriya with a passion; reasoning unknown. One that just happened to hear come choice words spoken inside a classroom a day some time ago (and what words, Shouta wasn’t sure - though he thinks he might have an idea - he’d only know that they must have been serious - extremely serious if the way his students breath had stuttered, hitched, and nearly stalled altogether, before the softest whimper was released and he continued on mumbling to himself as if he had no clue he’d just stopped-).

(Everything seemed to revolve around “just happened’s” and “what if’s” and regret, so many regrets - Shouta should have known to do something, anything -) 

The desperate hero had just pushed it all into his mind for later - because the situation was fucked up, really fucked up, but if a quirk was used on his student, no matter how or why, then it was a crime. It became a criminal matter - a villain based matter actually, especially because they actively tried to kill his student. And he could deal with this - he could throw himself into this after making sure his student was alright. So Shouta lugged them both to the hospital in record speeds (and of course a villain attack just happened to strike right there, right then - of course he couldn’t get his student to see anyone-), and sat them both down into the first seats he could find that weren't occupied by civilians, before pulling out his phone and messaging Tsukauchi about the whole situation at hand. 

~ Think, Rethink, and Regret ~

It slicks around his mind, nasty and terrible, like an infection.

The sudden realization that’d just hit him, that’d really just shook him to his core.

The number of it all...

Shouta can’t stop thinking about all the times he’d almost lost Midoriya this year. 

Of all the times he’d almost had to dress up in that scratchy, too perfectly fitting dark suit, and tie up his raggedy hair nicely in order to give addresses to the public, and the news stations, and to students, and to a lone, single mother. Of all the times his own kid had to pull himself out of the messes when it should have been Shouta there to do it. When it was Shouta’s responsibility to protect and teach these kids until they were finally ready to be the independent heroes they wanted to be (even if he would argue that no person is ever ready, they just get used to dealing with all the negative that comes with the job-). 

Thinks suddenly about how much longer the kid’s been fighting for himself without anyone to back him up or really support him. 

How he could have lost this bright and heroic kid before he’d even walked through those large UA gates. 

A different student sitting at his desk, talking to his classmates, making his friends.

How the kid could have walked through a different pair of large gates… 

~ Think, Rethink, and Regret ~

The hero thinks about the whole of the night. 

He can’t help the way his mind goes over the night - goes over all he’d seen, all he’d thought, all he was tonight, and the past hundred or more nights since this class’s school year had started. Goes over all his moves, his choices; critiques and questions this and that, nitpicking at. Every. Little. Thing. But it specifically hovers around one area that’s most probably connected to tonight's events. 

A kid. A kid with an overpowered, and almost horrific, quirk. A kid with near impossible levels of lack of control. A kid who never seemed to quite fit into the stereotype that was those perfect, privileged, egotistical kids. 

Shouta’s mind twists and turns, and he thinks about how he’d judged the kid first hand. 

Thinks, ironically, about the fact that he didn’t think. Didn’t think it was all that strange. Didn’t think the situation was worrying. Didn’t think to look into the kid. 

Now look where his ignorance and faults had landed him. 

Sat in a hospital with his student. 

Again.

At points like this, especially like this, when Shouta’s mind has run him ragged with thoughts of everything that’s happened, he tends to have a lot of “What if?” moments. 

What if I’d decided to cover the kids?

What if I’d moved faster?

What if we’d canceled that day? 

What if I overlooked the classes more?

What if I’d looked deeper?

What if I’d run to them instead of staying in place? 

What if, what if, what if, what if- 

What if I’d just done my job and actually put work in for my kids?

What if I’d just paid a bit more attention to someone who was so clearly struggling? 

What if I’d just looked at someone so like myself instead of letting biases cloud my judgment? 

What if… 

A light buzz against his side pulls his attention back to the present and from the darker recesses of his mind. 

Ever so carefully, he digs through his clothes for his phone, not wanting to disturb the sleeping kid practically molding into his body and scarf at this point. 

It’s Tsukauchi. 

He’s already found the other kids file - it seemed he’d been getting into trouble lately after all his highschools chose to reject his application due to… due to blatant quirk discrimination… Shouta breathed deeply, a scowl pulling at his lips as he thought about how easy it was to get away with such things in this day and age still. But even so, Shouta couldn’t excuse what the kid had done to his student. 

Quickly reading through the rest of the file, he notes that Midoriya was right with his mumblings earlier - the ability to force people to enact their most prominent thoughts… That means Midoriya’s was to kill himself… 

(If only Shouta knew how often the words “Take a swan dive off the roof…” replayed in Izuku’s head-) 

The raven lets out the breath he’d been holding, sending a quick text back to the overworked detective thanking him, with a follow up asking the man if he could investigate the kid when he got the chance for some expensive coffee. With that, Shouta clicked off his phone, putting it back into his pocket and letting himself drift to other things. 

Green hair. 

Knotted, messy, but overall soft.

It tickled his chin at this point, as the child pressed himself closer, breaths still soft, deep, and even. Sending a quick glance around the room, even without taking in the time and difference in the room around them, he’d noticed they’d been here for a long time. Maybe I should just bring him back to UA - at this rate, we won’t be seeing anyone any time soon… And he wanted to, really thought about it even, but the off chance that something could happen again… could happen to Midoriya was too much on Shouta’s mind right now - especially with Shuzenji not being there at night most times. 

Another sigh has the raven slumping into his seat slightly - getting more comfortable against the younger boy still asleep on him without disturbing him at all, the hero pulls out his phone. Well, if I’m stuck here, I might as well do some information digging on my student… 

(Shouta couldn’t bear the thought of adding another “What if?” to his list - another regret, another thought to keep him awake at night - he couldn’t. So, he’d sit here and read until he could make it right-) 

For the next few hours Shouta dug as deep into his students' records as he could - learning anything and everything that seemed even remotely important, from the moment the kid started his very first day of school to now. 

~ Think, Rethink, and Regret ~

(If Izuku happened to be woken hours later to a gentle shaking from his sensei - mind a mess, body heavy, the events of earlier still trying to pull themselves back together again - to finally see a doctor, he wouldn’t think much of it. 

If he happened to sense something amiss with his sensei, felt his body stiffen just the slightest bit, before he turned to stare into oil drenched eyes burning with flames of anger and determination - not directed at him, no, not him, but the world? - well, he wouldn’t think much of it. 

If he happened to notice the newest shadow join his often, notice how close his sensei had begun to stand or how his teacher had suddenly become a background support to him; a protection, a wall, a support beam planted beside him for whenever Izuku needed it, from that night onwards? He wouldn’t think much of it. 

After all, that night Izuku had realized something. Had figured out that his sensei had just as many regrets as he did, held the same deep twisting toxic eyes that only ever spiraled. Had seen how the events of that night brought out a side of his sensei that was all too similar to his current self. But… even so, who was he to bring attention to a man just trying his best to fix the things around himself? 

So Izuku wouldn’t think much of it. He’d just get up and smile at his sensei as he followed him to the doctor. He’d relax himself when he saw those burning eyes directed elsewhere. He’d feint obliviousness to the sudden protectiveness over himself, while also taking advantage of the support system. Izuku would let his sensei do what he needed to fix himself in his own time, and if that meant supporting his sensei, while pretending he had no idea as to what was happening? Well, he wouldn’t think much of it.)

~ Think, Rethink, and Regret ~

Green hair. 

Knotted, messy, but overall soft. 

It dances in the movement of the wind that rushes around the training field as the younger stands excitedly with his classmates. 

Shouta rested off to the side, posture loose and hands shoved in his pockets as he observed his class talking and moving about the grassy area with each other, content at the moment. 

He thinks. 

He thinks about how many of his kids were like Midoriya. Were struggling with themselves, with their pasts, with their homes. How many of them would end up like Oboro. Crushed, killed way before their time. Before they could ever walk the stage dressed in their final heroic uniform. Dying a hero’s death even before they’d held the official title. About how many more times they’ll have to put up with being attacked before they even finish their first year. How many times throughout the rest of their highschool careers. Whether or not they’ll come out of swinging or have to step down from the course. Whether or not they’ll come out at all… 

Shouta thinks about all of these things. 

Thinks about all the work that’ll have to go into keeping them all alive, well, and happy. To keep them from trying to off themselves because of the demons they’ve hidden. Or sacrificing themselves to save a bunch of school kids by moving them to safety while they don’t make it out themselves. Or from being murdered in any type of way in general… 

It’ll never stop; all his thoughts, all his regrets, his mistakes, the questions - the way he handles and struggles with all the above. The way his mind will always try to slither its way to the forefront of his being and destroy him from the inside out. It’ll never stop, even if he were to quit both his jobs and open a cat cafe. 

But, the idea forms as he continues to watch over his kids, seeing them joke around and slowly get off track, I’ll do my best to keep from adding onto the dark pile so much… If not for his own sake, then for all of theirs. 

Lips are tugged up just the barest amounts as Shouta watches his class cheer in amazement and disbelief as Midoriya bench presses the whole “Deku-squad” without the use of his quirk. 

Tucking his face into his scarf he lets out a sigh, starting off towards his rowdy class, flashing his quirk to get them all back in line. 

For once, he doesn’t think.

For once, he knows. 

He knows he’ll do his best. 

For them.