Chapter Text
Kirishima punched the wall again and again and again.
He threw his fist forward as quick as he could, turning his quirk on and off as quick as he could, pushing his skin to harden. Harder, harder, harder.
Kirishima wheezed, tucking a hand into his chest. He curled inward slightly, his breathing laboured. Kirishima grabbed his phone, careful not to smash it in his hands. He watched the time-lapse he'd taken. His face scrunched up, it was three minutes long. That wasn't nearly long enough.
Shaking his head, Kirishima studied his form, his techniques. He was finding his weaknesses, just like Midobro and Sensei had shown him how to.
Kirishima frowned at the video.
He needed to work harder.
He needed... needed to..
Harder.
Better.
Why wasn't he getting better?
Kirishima sucked in a shaky breathe, letting go of a low keen that had been caught in his throat as he sank to his knees. Kirishima threw his hands down quickly to catch himself so that he didn't face plant into the mats. He blubbered, practically heaving as he tried to calm himself down.
Kirishima sat back on his calves before sliding his legs out in front of him. Kirishima placed his hands forcefully on his chest, pressing down on it. There was an immovable pressure on his chest that was pressing, pressing, pressing down. More and more forcefully.
A migraine began to form at the forefront of Kirishima's mind, he pressed his hands there instead, pulling them away quickly at the heat and sweat that was forced there.
Kirishima coughed, unable to suck in as much air as he needed.
Bakugou wouldn't feel like this.
Mina would be able to breath without any problems.
Kaminari would know when an attack was coming and calm himself beforehand.
Sero would never feel this stupid.
Kirishima's mind blanked at the thoughts. He stared up at the ceiling blankly, seeing but also not. The tears had all but stopped, nothing left to cry, now. Kirishima hiccuped, he whimpered, then immediately shook his head at the sound. He regretted that as it made his head hurt even more.
Aizawa got the alert on his phone at 1:18AM. He groaned loudly, uncaring of his sleeping husband. That dumb blond didn't even stir. Aizawa stared at his husband for a moment, moving the long, blond hair out of Yamada's face gently before he remembered what had woken him up.
The phone had been knocked on the floor at some point during the night, Aizawa picked up his phone. Oh. He'd gotten an alert at 23:17 PM, too. Aizawa opened the alert, turning his phone brightness down as he was blinded by the unholy light of his phone.
A security camera showed Kirishima training after hours. Not too unusual, the students snuck out to train often. Aizawa glanced at the timestamp, rolling his eyes at the fact it said what he was currently watching happened hours ago. Speeding the feed up, Aizawa stopped at what it was currently showing.
Aizawa frowned at the screen. He pulled it up closer to his face, zooming in as much as possible. He couldn't see much, Aizawa groaned in frustration. Kirishima was prone on the ground, hands slack at his sides. Aizawa sighed, grabbing his scarf and slipping on his shoes.
No sleep for the tired, he supposed.
As Aizawa trudged down the stairs, he pretended not to see Mina, Jirou, and Hagakure sprinting back into their dorm building, giggling. He ducked his head into the scarf with a hidden smile. He was happy they three were feeling better. He also hoped the dropped 'Dadzawa' soon.
The gym door pushed open and it took Aizawa a moment to find Kirishima. a spike of worry pierced him seeing that the teenager had yet to have moved since Aizawa last checked. As Aizawa briskly walked over to the boy, he looked at his phone, at the time. 1:24AM. Aizawa cursed and moved from a brisk walk to a quick jog.
Dammit why were these gyms so big?
Aizawa dropped to his knees just to the left, and in front of Kirishima. His left his hands hovering beside the student. "Kirishima." Kirishima made no acknowledgment of hearing Aizawa call out to him. "Kirishima, can you hear me?" Kirishima whined, but Aizawa wasn't so sure it was from his presence. He wasn't even sure if Kirishima had seen him, yet.
After a few more minutes of thought, Aizawa carefully, slowly, and gently placed his hands on Kirishima's shoulders. He made sure to narrate his actions the entire time. It did not help. Kirishima screamed, not of fear–thankfully–but of shock. He jumped back, looking around with unfocused eyes before he landed on Aizawa.
It took a moment but Aizawa watched Kirishima's eyes slowly come into focus and the recognition flash through him. "Oh. Oh, Ai–Aizawa, uh, Aizawa-sensei! Hi–hi?" Aizawa's eyes narrowed, his face hiding in the scarf as he watched Kirishima slowly go through an array of emotions. Guilt, shame, anger, fear, then he also watched a wall slam down in its place. Ah yes, repression.
Aizawa heaved himself up, pulling Kirishima with him. He didn't care that his student tried to pull away, that he seemed frantic about it. Instead he pulled Kirishima to one of the many, many benches that littered the gym and sat him down. He crouched in front of the teenager.
Kirishima looked down at his knees, holding them tightly. Aizawa stayed in the crouched position, as he waited for Kirishima to calm down a bit. The boy rubbed his eyes quickly, as if just realising he'd been crying. As Aizawa waited, he thought of all the excuses and complaints he could use again Nedzu and Yamada.
"I'm sorry.." Kirishima didn't lift his head, but he was angled to pay close attention to Aizawa. It was subtle. And it made Aizawa proud. "I–I probably woke up you– woke you up, fuck, just–! Just sorry.."
Aizawa placed a hand over Kirishima's to cut off the oncoming ramble. "Kirishima. Deep breath, copy me okay?"
Kirishima finally, finally met Aizawa's eyes. Black, dark circled eyes met red, red rimmed ones. They breathed in sync for a few minutes. Aizawa was thinking about how to broach the subject, he was extremely thankful when Kirishima started talking on his own.
"What's... what's wrong with me, sensei?" Kirishima's voice was quiet, he looked down then up again. Aizawa frowned. He made an executive decision. He grasped his student's shoulders and waited until Kirishima made eye contact again. Despite his own hatred of eye contact, Aizawa was increasingly coming to understand that his students needed it for these kinds of situations.
"Nothing."
"But–but Bakubou—"
"Kirishima, nothing."
"Mina–!"
"Nothing."
Kirishima's bottom lip shook, staring directly into Aizawa's eyes. The teacher used all of his willpower to not break it. "Kirishima Ejirou there is nothing wrong with you. Just because you aren't growing as fast as others doesn't mean anything is wrong with you. Am I being clear?"
Kirishima broke the eye contact, looking downcast. He shook his head. Aizawa sighed, getting up from his crouch to sit beside the kid.
"Bakugou's quirk is easier to make stronger, but he has to learn control. Not strength." Kirishima's head tilted his head, listening intently. "Midoriya, Todoroki, and Tokoyami are the same."
Aizawa looked down at his student, knocking on the bit of bench between them. "Kouda is growing at the same speed as you, is he stupid or bad because of it?"
Kirishima gaped at Aizawa, jumping up as he violently shook his head. Aizawa pitied his brain, "No way! How could you– oh. Oh, I see what you mean now." Kirishima dropped back onto the bench beside Aizawa. Aizawa ducked into his scarf for the umpteenth time to hide his amused grin.
Aizawa placed a gentle hand on the teenagers shoulder, "It will take time to fully believe it. To build up your confidence," Kirishima tilted his head up, taking it out of his hands, "but you'll get there. And 1-A will be here to help."
The two shared a moment of comfortable silence before Aizawa stood up quickly. "Alright now go to bed, brat." Aizawa stalked out, hearing the startled laugh behind him as he sped out.
Aizawa shook his head, honestly, Hound Dog must be getting paid enough to buy the entire damn school with this one class.