Chapter Text
The sun filtered through the classroom windows, Aizawa was glaring at them from behind his sleeping bag, and Kaminari was already whispering something dumb to Sero that was making Mina snort.
That was, until the door opened and the familiar towering form of All Might stepped into the classroom.
"In my hero form!" he declared, thumb raised, coat billowing behind him. "Good morning, Class 1-A!"
"ALL MIGHT!" the class chorused, straightening with excitement.
Even Aizawa looked vaguely annoyed as he reluctantly vacated the front. "He insisted on doing this himself. Don't make me regret giving him the time."
All Might grinned. "Now, now, don't worry, Eraserhead! I'll be quick. I have some exciting news!"
The room practically buzzed. Even Bakugo looked up with interest, though his expression remained vaguely threatening.
"You've all been working hard this semester," All Might continued. "And that's why U.A. has approved a special, off-campus development program to further your growth!"
"Oooooh!" Mina gasped. "Is it another forest lodge?!"
"Please don't let it be another forest lodge," Tokoyami muttered.
"No," All Might chuckled. "This will be at a remote high-altitude facility, far from the city, isolated in the mountains. You'll be pushed to your limits — physically and mentally! And there will be new simulations, new challenges, and special instructors waiting for you!"
Cheers broke out across the room.
"Sounds fun!" Sato grinned.
"Are there dorms?" Iida asked, already preparing to start packing.
"Will there be hot springs again?" Kaminari wiggled his eyebrows and got immediately smacked by Jiro.
Amid the excitement, three students were very much not cheering.
Izuku's smile had frozen on his face like a mask.
"High-altitude facility?" he echoed weakly.
"Remote?" Itona muttered.
"Special instructors?" Okuda said slowly, dread beginning to gather behind her eyes.
They glanced at each other at the same time. No words were exchanged. None were needed. This had bad idea written all over it.
Itona dropped his head into his arms on the desk.
Okuda looked like she was calculating escape routes.
And Midoriya — who never backed down from training — looked as though someone had just told him his quirk came with a side of death.
All Might either didn't notice or pretended not to. "We'll be leaving this weekend. Prepare yourselves! It's going to be PLUS ULTRA!"
He struck a pose and then swept back out of the room with the same dramatic energy he arrived with.
Once he was gone, the students erupted into conversation again. Only Todoroki and Bakugo noticed the shift in the trio.
"...You three look like you just got sentenced," Todoroki said flatly.
"Because we did," Okuda mumbled.
Bakugo narrowed his eyes. "What the hell are you so afraid of?"
Midoriya forced a grin that had no life behind it. "Oh, you know...just altitude sickness. Very real thing. Lots of risks. Very dangerous."
Todoroki looked between the three of them, clearly unconvinced.
Itona muttered under his breath, "This is going to be a disaster."
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The school day had just ended, and the sun was casting long golden lines across the polished floors of the hallway.
Aizawa stood quietly just beyond the doorway of Class 1-A, arms folded and shadows drawn under his tired eyes. He'd waited until the last students filtered out in noisy groups. Kaminari's laughter echoed down the hall. Bakugo's boots thundered away in angry steps. Todoroki was, as usual, quiet — but his sharp gaze lingered on Midoriya before he disappeared around the corner.
Midoriya was organizing his notes like nothing was wrong.
"Midoriya," Aizawa said, voice even.
Midoriya's head shot up. "Yes, Sensei?"
"Stay back for a moment. I need to talk to you."
His posture stiffened. "Oh. Okay."
He walked over slowly. Cautiously.
Aizawa sighed inwardly.
Goddammit. Why does this kid always look like I'm about to punish him for breathing?
He watched Midoriya approach — not the usual flustered muttering mess he could be. No, this was the calm, restrained version. The version that made Aizawa more nervous than the rambling one ever did.
He gestured toward the window at the end of the hallway.
"Walk with me."
Midoriya glanced to his friends, then nodded, following his teacher in silence. They passed a quiet stairwell. The light outside had gone softer now, orange bleeding into pink.
They stopped near the corner, where no one would hear.
Aizawa leaned against the wall.
There was a pause. Long. Heavy.
Midoriya fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve.
Finally, Aizawa spoke, his tone low.
"I don't know what I'm doing anymore, Midoriya."
Midoriya blinked. That was... not what he'd expected.
"I've been teaching long enough to know when a student's lying to me," Aizawa continued. "And I've had a lot of students. Problem children. Kids who lash out. Kids who shut down. Kids who act strong when they're hanging on by a thread. I've seen it all."
He turned to face him, and his voice lowered further.
"But I've never had a student who looks me in the eye, lies to my face, and I still want to believe them."
Midoriya's breath hitched. "Sensei, I—"
"I'm not accusing you." Aizawa cut him off, gentler than expected. "I'm tired."
I'm tired of Nezu breathing down my neck. I'm tired of finding redacted records. I'm tired of the silence. The holes in your story. The new kids who know things they shouldn't. The fact that I care, and I can't do anything unless you let me. What we found should be enough, but I can't get this feeling out of my head.
Aizawa looked at him, gaze steady.
"You're not just a student to me, Midoriya. You know that, right?"
"I—" Midoriya hesitated, voice cracking slightly. "I know. I do."
"I care about you. I care about the other two as well — Akari, Haruki. I don't want to treat them like suspects. But I can't protect any of you if I don't know what's coming."
Midoriya looked away, jaw clenched. Aizawa didn't push.
He waited.
The silence stretched.
Then Midoriya finally spoke, voice quiet.
"It's not that I don't trust you. I do. But there are things that... aren't mine to share. People who might get hurt if the wrong things come out."
Aizawa nodded. He'd suspected as much.
Midoriya's hands were shaking slightly.
"Look. I'm not asking for everything. I know what it means to have secrets that aren't yours to spill. But if you're in danger—if any of you are—then I need to know enough to stop it from happening again."
Midoriya looked up at him, eyes wide and conflicted.
"I'll try," he said softly.
Aizawa nodded once. "That's all I'm asking."
They stood there a moment longer, the quiet between them less tense now. Aizawa exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair.
"You're a pain in the ass, kid."
Midoriya cracked a small, sheepish smile. "You knew that when I got here."
Aizawa gave him a sideways look, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
"...Get out of here. Go pretend to be normal for another day."
Midoriya saluted — joking, but tired — and turned to leave.
Aizawa leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.
Something's coming. I just hope I haven't waited too long to act.