Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Aizawa-sensei used One For All.

That’s the only thing playing on repeat in his heat-filled head. All Might’s arms are around him, there’s flashing lights all around him, and people pulling and tugging on him for some reason, but he can only stare at the throng of people crowding around the fallen form of his teacher— arm twisted and purple and broken . 

Voices waft over him and his legs are shaking. 

The grip on him tightens, and it’s the only warning he gets before he’s being scooped up into boney arms. Air whips past him, making his hair ruffle violently. It reminds him of the blizzard. Of feeling the ice sticking to his face and weighing his hair down. Of Aizawa-sensei’s voice breaking through to him every now and again.

The lights get brighter and the voices get louder and suddenly he’s being places down on something that’s somehow both soft and hard. He collapses down onto it, unable to really hold his head up anymore, but he feels hands guide him down. Multiple. Too many to count. 

It’s just two to start with but more jump in. Prodding him and pulling him around. Wrapping things around him and strapping things to him. 

All Might’s above him. Looking down at him from in between smudges that look like they’re supposed to be other people. He looks similar to how he looked during his fight with All For One. Withered and tired and haunted. 

Izuku tries to reach for him, but the phantom hands grab at him and suddenly All Might’s gone. Smudges of people he doesn’t know in his place. 

“W-wait—”

His voice doesn’t carry. His entire world shifts, whatever he’s laying on jerking and then rolling against the ground. Rolling him into a room that’s bright and smells like Recovery Girl’s office and he can’t seem to keep his eyes open against the piercing lights looming down on him. 

Something sharp stabs into his elbow. 

All Might’s still gone.

His arm flails before he recognizes it, ripping out of a grip and grabbing hold of a cold metal railing. He yanks himself up as much as he can, body shaking as he sits up half-way. He looks out the opening to outside, trying to find something familiar but everything’s blurry and he;s so uncoordinated, “All Might? A-Aizawa-senss-ei?”

There’s yelling. Hands pushing him down, holding him there. 

Something else pierces his arm. He flinches, whipping his head away as they try and replace the respirator on his face.

Then darkness.

~~~

It’s the brightness that he recognizes first. That sort of irritating brightness that somehow finds a way to invade past your closed eyelids. The type you try to turn away from so you can keep on sleeping. 

Except, when Shouta tries to turn away he’s met with resistances in multiple forms. 

A strange, sharp, and moderately painful tugging at the crook of his elbow, another sharp pain throughout the entirety of his opposite arm, and a pair of hands flitting around him like some bird in the midst of a seizure.

Brightness coupled with pain usually prevents someone from lolling back into sleep. Unfortunately.

“Go’way…”

There’s a sudden laugh—a surprised laugh. But the voice that laughs…it makes this interruption even worse. 

“C’mon, Shouta. Wakey wakey!”

Shouta growls underneath his breath, “Mic, I swear…”

“Don’t be like that,” Mic says relatively quietly, a surprise to Shouta’s sleep-muddled brain, “The doctor said to make sure you actually wake up.”

Doctor?

“What doctor?”

“ Your doctor,” Mic presses and Shouta still doesn’t quite understand, “Now c’mon. Open them eyes. I’ll even pull the blinds if you want.”

Shouta huffs— through his mouth because for some reason he finds air unable to pass through his nose, “Fine.”

“See? And they say we never see eye to eye!”

There’s movement beside him, the sharp hiss of metal scraping against metal, and then darkness. Blessed darkness. The perfect kind that lets you just slip back into sleep…

“Ah, ah, ah, we had a deal,” There’s a light slap to his thigh— padded...blankets? “Wake up. Completely. Let’s go, man.”

He groans. Just, flat out groans like one of his students might when forced to get up for class. He imagines...he doesn’t usually see them until first period. He wouldn’t really know , but they’re teenagers. Only the sparse few actually enjoy getting up early— especially by something as annoying as Hizashi.

But, he does open his eyes. Small blinks— slow and meticulous. There’s a pulsating thrum at the base of his head and another that seems to take up his entire face. Great...headaches...the bane of his existence. 

A white ceiling meets him. Dulled out now thanks to the very few fluorescent lights on and the blinds being closed now. Lowlight floats throughout the room rather nicely. Not the sharp way most of his hospital rooms in the past have been like. 

Hospital room…

He sees Hizashi out of the corner of his eye but disregards him for the moment. Looking down— an awkward crane of his neck since they have him lying flat — he sees light blue blankets covering his legs, and looking higher up he can see the open hospital gown revealing the rights side of his chest and...arm…

His casted arm…

That’s about when everything comes rushing back. Everything. The snowstorm. The mountains. The lake. His broken nose. The villain. No cell service. He’s in a hospital now so All Might must have gotten ahold of somebody, but how— 

“All Might,” it comes out of Shouta’s mouth before he can stop it, “He and Midoriya. Where are they? Are they alright?”

“Woah, woah, Shou!” Hizashi is on his feet leaning over the bed railing in an instant, but doesn’t really do much. He looks like he isn’t entirely sure what he should do, which just seems to frustrate Shouta more, “If you don’t calm down, I’m calling a nurse in here.”

A threat?

“Just answer the question, ‘zashi!”

Mic’s face twists at the volume and the nickname— something Shouta never, ever lets slip. Never. But that just means it serves its purpose when the time eventually comes.

It takes only a second before Hizashi sighs and helps Shouta sit up. He messes with some buttons on the side of the bed that raises the head section up and before long, Shouta feels like he could actually have a “decent” conversation. 

“Now tell me.”

“Yeesh, I know, I know,” Hizashi mumbles, rubbing a hand underneath his glasses, “Just give me a second, man.”

It’s only then that Shouta actually looks at Hizashi. He’s not in his hero gear, but he’s not in hospital scrubs either— that’s good. But still, he looks pretty worn out. Eye bags that could compete with Shouta’s own trademark ones. His hair is pulled back into a bun, a few frizzes popping out and floating around his head in wisps. And he’s wearing normal clothing. Like, jeans and a t-shirt. No leather in sight. 

He’s seen it plenty of times, but this time it surprises him. 

“How long have we been here?”

Must’ve been long if Hizashi could go home and get clothes...but wait...they weren’t anywhere near UA or “home”. So, what— 

“It’s only been a day, really,” Hizashi says, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, “The doc said you were exhausted, concussed, suffering old signs of hypothermia ‘still’ — he said ‘still’ — and, well, your snapped arm there, bud. Sounds like your world got rocked by something...and I have a feeling it was that villain, huh?”

Shouta breathes, taking in everything Hizashi said. Most he knew. The hypothermia was a surprise, but they were outside in that weather again, and he’s pretty confident they weren’t completely recovered from their first venture into the cold anyways. 

“Yeah, more or less,” Shouta replies, “And the others?”

Hizashi bobs his head once, avoiding looking at Shouta, “Well, I don’t know much about what’s going on with Midoriya— All Might seems to have put himself in charge of that. Something about getting into contact with his mom or something? I don’t honestly know, but I do know that he said the little listener is fine.”

Shouta blinks, “ ‘fine’.”

The last time he saw the kid, he sure as Hell wasn’t “fine”. Could barely stay on his feet, kept trying his damndest at coughing up both of his lungs. Could only use one arm...yeah, Midoriya was doing great. 

“Uh...was...was he not fine?” Hizashi seems to swap from his moody rehash of all the events that have happened to immediate concern, “Was he okay? I assumed he was okay because All Might didn’t seem concerned, but, I mean, that’s like his whole thing , isn’t it...pretending everything’s fine?”

“Hizashi,” Shouta says, “Calm down.”

“I am calm. I am, it’s just...y’know…” Hizashi heaves a heavy sigh, slouching forward, “He’s my student, too. Was a part of my group and he got caught up in all that villain nonsense...if he got— got killed— ”

“Hizashi—”  

“I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself, either.”

“Hizashi…” this time, Hizashi seems done. Like he let out at least enough of his frustration and fear to sate him for now, “Midoriya was...doing pretty poorly, in all honesty. We had it taken care of but he ended up getting, uh, really sick. Like, really sick, and that’s why we chose to leave.”

Hizashi is staring at him, “Why didn’t you tell me that on the phone? You said he was sick, but I figured it was, like, a cold or something. I don’t know, maybe I’m just an optimist.”

Shouta sighs, trying to brush the hair out of his eyes to only realize his inability to do so with both arms out of order, “I wasn’t sure, but I figured it was mild pneumonia.”

Hizashi’s face falls at that and it about hurts Shouta just as much as his broken nose and arm.

“How...how did he get that? The cold?”

Shouta shakes his head, “How much did All Might tell you?”

“Just how roughed up the two of you got. I knew you had a broken nose and some bruises— I was just happy you weren’t dead , which is where my mind started to go to when you wouldn’t answer your phone,” he pauses, “and Midoriya, he said he was freezing, broken arm, concussion, stab wound — like jeez, can that little listener get cut some slack?”

“He was colder than I was, though,” Shouta adds, taking a steadying breath, “He fell through the ice, Hizashi. The ice of that little lake we saw on the maps in our outposts.”

Hizashi is gaping, “ Through ?”

Shouta nods, “I fished him out and got him breathing again. That must’ve been how he got sick.”

“...Jeez, Shouta…”

There’s a long heavy pause between them. Hizashi seems to be fascinated by something under the bed, staring at it with his full attention, but Shouta’s focused on his hands. The bare one and the one bound in plaster and bandages. 

How he got that...he can’t say he quite remembers. He recalls punching out for the villain’s head— try and knock him out until the authorities could get there and restrain him permanently. Something went wrong though. The plan succeeded, but...a little differently than he originally hoped. 

And he still doesn’t quite understand it.

“Well,” Hizashi breaths, patting his knees in a nervous rhythm, “We’re still just at the base of the mountain— All Might got the kids a place to stay at a hotel a few blocks down. The police gave back all the stuff they found in the wreckage of the facility, so they have clothes and whatnot. Now we’re just...waiting for you and Midoriya.”

“What about you?” Shouta’s relatively surprised when the question comes out, but then he realizes he’s actually genuinely concerned. Hadn’t really thought about it. 

Hizashi smiles warmly at him and it about makes Shouta revoke his question, “I’m fine, Shou. Just stressed for the same reasons you are. Bakugou and I got taken care of immediately— he had a concussion and had to stay a few hours, but that was about it. And my knee had a few torn ligaments in it, but I have this nice crutch and a brace. So, we’re all doing perfectly fine, Shouta. Don’t worry about us.”

His students are okay, All Might’s okay, Hizashi's okay, and he and Midoriya are on the mend. Safe from the mountain— his students were probably causing chaos already in that poor hotel. And even with that, he feels a sudden, harsh weight lift off of his shoulders. 

Shouta closes his eyes, “Did they catch the villain.”

Hizashi visibly stiffens, “Uh...in a way?”

God, that probably meant he somehow escaped them...it’s not surprising. The guy was tough. Seriously tough. But to know he’s still out there somewhere...maybe he should be hunting him down instead of laying here in bed. 

Shouta pushes himself further upward, “Did they at least find an I.D. that matched his face so we know who he is?”

Hizashi blinks at Shouta like he just slapped him across the face, something uncomfortable flitting across his eyes. His shoulders hike up to his ears. 

“The villain...didn’t have a face, Shouta…”

Shouta chokes on air, sputtering words falling from his mouth without any order or understanding. Hizashi’s eyes grow wide, hands coming up in a consoling way.
“He— he what?” Shouta spats, feeling like his breaths just won’t come all the way, “That, that doesn’t— he had a face, Hizashi! I saw it!”

“Shou, no. Listen to me,” Hizashi is standing again, planting his hands on Shouta’s shoulders, “The villain was dead, okay? That’s what I mean...I don’t know how , but that’s what they told me.”

Hizashi’s hands don’t leave his shoulders until long after he’s felt himself calm down. He did that, he knows. He killed that villain— blasted the guy’s head right off of his body. He killed someone brutally and didn’t even take care enough to notice. 

But the real kicker. The part that freaks him out more than anything else. 

He doesn’t...regret it.

And that’s the first real moment Shouta questions his worthiness of being a hero or a teacher.

~~~

Izuku can’t say he remembers much very clearly from the past week. He had this sort of thinking-back moment when they were at the outpost— before he got sick. But once that happened it’s just shapes and sounds and faces. Things his brain was thinking that his body couldn’t follow. Or instincts his body felt that his brain couldn’t understand. 

But there was one thing he could understand during that time, and it’s that the situation they were in was serious. All Might asking him to find a phone, all those… all those dead bodies...Aizawa-sensei needing help, but not being able. Not being allowed because of the hands wrapped around him, preventing him from helping. All Might’s hands.  

And the... punch that Aizawa-sensei threw at the villain. 

There was no doubt it was One For All. He could feel it. All Might could feel it too. 

And only moments after Aizawa-sensei fell backwards into a lifeless heap— purple arm blooming with gross reds and blues just like Izuku had seen on his own plenty of times— lights surrounded them. Flashing ones. And there were men and voices and hands on him and All Might just kept a hold of him throughout it all. 

Aizawa-sensei got taken somewhere . Strapped to a backboard, so probably to a waiting ambulance. And All Might swept him off his feet and practically sprinted to a different ambulance. It got really fuzzy there. He was set down on a stretcher trolley. And even though All Might’s face was the most immediate one above him, four different ones swarmed him and All Might got pushed out. 

Maybe that’s where he ended up panicking— All Might made a point to tell him about that part of the story as soon as he was able. Seemed almost humored by it, but Izuku doesn’t find much humor in making medical worker’s lives even more difficult. 

Still, Izuku’s pretty confident that All Might didn’t think it was funny at the moment.  He gets this sort of faraway look whenever he brings it up in a joking manner— to try and lighten the mood whenever the nurses come in to change his IV bags and check his stitches and inspect his breathing. 

Izuku supposes, if he had been in that position with someone close to him in Izuku’s own position...seeing them panic because they can’t see him would probably upset him pretty drastically, as well. 

“When do you think they’ll let me out of here?”

All Might has his feet up on the foot of his bed, a laptop in his lap. Judging by the speed of his typing— despite not being very articulate when trying to type quickly— Izuku’s pretty sure that him, Aizawa-sensei, and Mic-sensei are probably going to have a lot of paperwork after this. 

All Might looks up at him from over the top of the laptop, “You said that exact same thing at the outpost, my boy.”

Izuku only hums, messing with the tube leading off of the breathing mask they’ve strapped to his face. No use of his right arm, barely able to sit up on his own because of his ribs, and blankets being strewn on top of him any time he tries to take one off— this just isn’t a very pleasant experience at all…

Or maybe he’s just restless.

“It’s only been three days, Midoriya,” All Might stresses, looking back to the laptop screen, “And trust me when I say that you need the rest and treatment they’re giving you. Aizawa’s still here, too, if that makes you feel better.”

“But, still,” Izuku continues, drumming his fingers on the sheets folded nicely across his lap, “Wasn’t my mom worried? And we’ve already been here longer than the trip was scheduled for, so shouldn’t—”

“Young Midoriya,” All Might sighs, closing his laptop quietly but with finality, “These are the last things you need to be worrying about, okay? Aizawa, Mic, and I have everything taken care of here, and your classmates are probably having the time of their lives in that hotel— the staff...probably not so much.”

Izuku shrinks down, cringing at the image of Kachan blowing down doors and screaming at the front desk people. As far as he knew, they were left alone for at least a few hours every day. Mic-sensei liked to visit Aizawa-sensei, so Iida was left in charge. He was probably ripping out his hair by now, “I just...I don’t want to be a burden here any longer than I already have been. I don’t want to hold everybody up.”

All Might doesn’t respond immediately, and Izuku shrinks down further as the seconds slink by in silence before a hand rests softly on his head. 

“You aren’t being a burden , my boy,” All Might’s voice is sad when he says it, the bed shifting under the older man’s weight when he sits on the edge. He ruffles Izuku’s hair once before dropping to his shoulder, “Please tell me that’s not what you’ve been thinking this whole time.”

Izuku forces himself to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the hand on his shoulder tightens only slightly, “It’s...it’s true . Aizawa-sensei had to drag me all the way to that base, then you both had to help me there, and then you had to defend me against the villain even though you’re—” 

"That wasn’t your fault, my boy. You were hurt. Badly hurt, and freezing to death...you needed help."

"But you and Aizawa-sensei shouldn’t have had to do all of that! I should've paid better attention—"

"But you didn’t."

Midoriya's jaw snaps shut with a click.

"You weren't able to. I won’t pretend to know what that fight was like for you two— Aizawa only told me so much—but regardless, mistakes happen. Even for heroes. I’ve made plenty, and I’m sure Aizawa has, too. Being so hard on yourself won’t do any good.”

“But—” Izuku isn’t quite sure what he’s saying anymore. He just feels the pull of exhaustion in his bones— eyelids heavy with his medication coming quickly and with a mercy, but that doesn’t change the fact that he feels a heavy sense of unease. Like All Might is somehow wrong about this, “But, I’m supposed to be your successor.”

All Might lets out a small fond laugh, something a little sad showing at the edges of his eyes, “True, but you’re also Aizawa and my student. And a child—an exceptionally skilled child, but a child nonetheless. The only thing the two of us want is for you to get healthy and get some rest and only then will we go back to UA," All Might's staring into his eyes with a firmness that makes Izuku want to believe everything he's saying is true, "We're not leaving you behind and we're not going to force you to move faster than you can. We're with you, Izuku, whether you want it or not. So when you're ready to go, we'll be here. Unburdened."

All Might seems done with that, and Izuku finds himself just letting the words sit between them in silence. 

In truth, even with only remembering a small amount of the past few days, he also remembers the general anxiety and unease around him every time he awoke. And he especially remembers that final moment when Aizawa-sensei took down the villain…

Izuku sighs heavily, back bowing further, “What...what are we going to tell Aizawa-sensei?”

All Might mimics his sigh, one hand scratching his head in thought, “Well, I, uh, was planning on going and speaking with him later today. Mic said he’s going to be discharged tomorrow so...might as well…” 

Izuku turns and stares at All Might with wide eyes, lethargy forgotten, “Wait, you’re going to tell him your secret?”

“ Our secret,” All Might stresses, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth for a short moment. Izuku always thinks his face looks more hollow when he gets that faraway look in his eyes— when he’s worrying about something he won’t voice out loud, “And...I don’t think we have a choice. It’s the only way to get One For All back to you, the only way to explain everything that happened to him and...probably the only way to keep him from hunting us down and finding out for himself.”

Izuku smiles, “I think...I think he should know, anyways. Even if this didn’t happen. I think he can be trusted. 

“I’m sure he can be as well, Young Midoriya,” All Might huffs a small laugh, standing from where he had been leaning against the bed, “Aizawa isn’t exactly a chatty person, after all.”

The older man leans over, hand resting on Izuku’s chest and pushes him back until he’s leaning against his assortment of pillows, “Now, with all of that out of the way, get some sleep, alright?”

Izuku finds himself nodding without even thinking, eyelids feeling heavy once again, “‘kay.”

~~~

“I figured I’d find you coming in here eventually. I just didn’t expect you to look like I was holding you at gunpoint when you did.”

All Might shifts his weight on his feet, a nervous laugh filling the silence awkwardly. It’s a strange sort of mimicry of his normal hero laugh. The annoyingly over-jolly one. 

“Well, I was sure that you probably had, uh… stuff you wanted to talk to me about.”

Shouta quirks an eyebrow. He’s sure he looks an interesting sight right there on his bed. Arm strapped to his chest in a sling, nose all puffy and red from where it was broken. The doctor had a healing quirk like Shuzenji, but it only welded flesh back together. It didn’t take care of a body’s reaction to trauma, unfortunately. Still...not having an open gash in your face was always a plus, “ ‘Stuff’?”

All Might sighs, slouching forward slightly and rubbing a hand down the side of his face, “Yeah...stuff.”

The older hero moves further into the room, collapsing down into the chair Hizashi had just vacated a few minutes ago so the two of them could have “privacy”. 

“Okay,” Shouta says blandly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to look the former number one hero in the eye more effectively, “How’s Midoriya? And don’t just say ‘fine’. I heard that from Hizashi and it wasn’t very enlightening.”

Yagi actually seems surprised by the question. Shouta isn’t too sure why, but the look is gone from the older hero’s face a moment later, replaced by some sort of fond smile...odd. The guy probably needs some sleep. He looks like a strong gust of wind could knock him over, “Well, he’s much better. Sleeping a lot, still. He’s on antibiotics, but the doctor checked the— the, uh, stitches,” Aizawa cringes at the memory, “said they looked pretty good and only redid them so they were neater.”

Aizawa snorts, “That’s probably a good thing. The last thing the poor kid needs is some messed up scar courtesy of me to add to his collection.”

All Might smiles, “I agree. But, uh, everything else is looking good. Healing. They said that he’ll probably stay here for another week, but then should be good to go.”

“Already?” Shouta tries to reel in the slight shock he feels, but a week longer isn’t a very long hospital stay at all. Sure, Shouta is known for completely bailing on his recommended stays— showing up to class after USJ wasn’t his proudest moment, but this is different. Atleast, it’s different to him. 

All Might bobs his head once in a nod, “Yes, so I don’t know what we’re planning on doing for the other students until then, but perhaps keeping them in a hotel in one location for that long isn’t the best course of action?”

Shouta can actually agree with the man on that. Regardless of whether they’re wrecking the place or not, after such a short time after another villain attack only up the mountain, keeping UA students in a public place off-campus is just asking for trouble, “We can call Nedzu and see what he says.”

“Alright,” Yagi says quietly, drumming his fingers on the chair’s armrest, “Anything else?”

Shouta hums, pulling his legs back onto the bed despite himself, “Did you hear about the villain?”

All Might blinks at him, “Yes, I did.”

“I didn’t even know I hit him that hard,” Shouta says, “Didn’t even feel like something I could do, but now there’s a dead man because of me.”

All Might stares at him, eyebrows raised in mild surprise it seems, but also something like...sympathy? Yeah, that’s the last thing he actually wants from the Symbol of Peace. 

“When...when we were cornered, Aizawa,” All Might says slowly, eyes downcast. He bites his lip for a moment, a single finger drumming on his hopping knee, “I was desperate, too.”

“Desperate enough to kill that man?” Shouta spats, and yeah, maybe that’s not necessary but it feels right to him at this moment. Being desperate and taking action like Shouta did— killing someone like that just— 

“Yes.”

Shouta twitches like he’s been shocked, gaze flashing back to the man seated by the foot of his bed, “What?”

All Might sighs, oozing back into his seat further and running a hand down his hollowed face, “Yes, Aizawa, I was willing to...to kill if necessary. I was mapping out a way to go get a gun for heaven’s sake right before you and Midoriya got the jump on him.”

Shouta knows he’s staring now. Gaping. Gawking. Probably resembling a dopey fish, but he’s just gotten the image of All Might wielding a gun forced into his head and quite frankly…

It’s kind of cool. 

But that’s not the point, here. Theatrics and such are one thing— acting “cool” for the media and to make sure that you have good audience support (at least in All Might’s case— barely anyone recognizes Eraserhead on the street). But “cool” doesn’t matter here, not in the field. Not when a child was being threatened right in front of them and they had that desperate fear— plain fear through and through— boiling up their throats. 

For All Might to get that desperate, to go for a gun to kill a villain outright...The guy apparently has only been that unopposed to lethality in one other instance. They were told about the details after Kamino Ward— the UA faculty did, anyways. He hasn’t heard if any other heroes or organization were spoken with. 

But that wound— having guts strewn across the ground and then choosing to kill All For One. A moment that intense…

Shouta isn’t as surprised that All Might felt something similar there. Felt like his guts were being ripped out all over again with Midoriya as vulnerable and in danger as he was. 

All Might with a gun...is more of a tragic thing, really. 

And Shouta suddenly feels that warmth inside him— acceptance and relief— take over the cold. Warmth that he stole that burden from being placed on a man who already has so much weighing down on him. 

They may not be friendly, necessarily, but Shouta respects the Hell out of the guy.

“You,” when Shouta begins speaking again moments later, his voice is tight. He clears his throat, “You were doing what had to be done.”

All Might just hums, one of his hands covering half of his face, “I suppose so...but that isn’t why I came in here to speak with you, either, Aizawa. And...I think you have some idea about what I’m talking about.”

Aizawa sighs, “Yeah, I think I have some notion.”  

All Might hesitates for only a moment, scanning the closed door and glancing out the window— almost like he’s worried about being caught...maybe he is? All Might has to have secrets but...this is clearly a pretty big secret if that’s the case…

What the Hell has he gotten himself into?

“Aizawa, I know this is a strange question,” he says once he’s satisfied with their privacy, “But...did you, uh...consume— in any way— something from...from Midoriya?”

Aizawa blinks at him, feeling his nose twinge.

What?

“Like hair, blood, saliva, uh...anything like that?”

What the Hell?

“It’s important, Aizawa, I’m not just being a creep.”

“You kind of are…”

All Might huffs, sitting forward in his chair and leaning his elbows on his knees. He’s staring Shouta down like he’s a child who’s being told their dog died by some firm and concerned parents who don’t quite understand emotions. 

He doesn’t like it.

“Just...think, for a moment. Alright?”

“Why am I being forced to have this conversation with you?”

“Because Midoriya isn’t capable of completely conscious conversation as of right now— I tried—so just think, please.” 

It’s the “please” that gets Shouta. It’s quieter than the rest of his spiel— almost like he’s trying to be gentle with this…almost like this isn’t the worst thing he’s going to ask or say. It concerns Shouta, especially since this seems to involve Midoriya a great deal. 

“Fine, uh…” He wouldn’t think he did anything like that. He would love to think that there’s no possibility he would even accidentally let that happen. He loves the kid, don’t get him wrong, but that's just plain disgusting, “Maybe while we were sleeping after getting to your outpost? Like, he was pressed against me, his hair in my face...could that have…?

All Might doesn’t say anything, just stares at the floor with his hands clasped beneath his chin in thought. 

“Or after I sewed him up...something could have happened with that, maybe?”

“No,” All Might practically whispers and Shouta just barely catches it, “No, Midoriya would have had to make the conscious decision to give it to you.”

Shouta blinks once...twice...a third time, “Give it to me? Give what to me? What the Hell are you talking about?”

Perhaps it does make sense in his head. Perhaps he does know what the older man is getting at. Super strength is Midoriya’s quirk. And then suddenly Shouta, who has had his own quirk for a few decades now, gets another one identical to Midoriya’s?

And that’s what doesn’t make sense, though. Quirks don’t transfer. Quirks are genetic manifestations completely dependent on the parents just like any other gene. 

But, All Might is talking about consuming something of Midoriya’s...consuming Midoriya’s DNA...What the Hell is going on here…

“Yagi,” Shouta snaps without even realizing it’s coming, “Just spit it out. What’s happened to Midoriya? What’s going on with me? I wouldn’t even be asking you but you clearly know— I can tell you know a lot, so spill.”

And he does, surprisingly enough. All Might spends a long moment studying Shouta like he’s trying to convince himself to place some form of trust in the underground hero, and in the end his face says that he doesn’t have much of a choice. 

“My quirk is— was called One for All, and it has the ability to be transferred from person to person. There have been nine of us so far...I was the eighth and...Izuku Midoriya is the ninth.”

Shouta feels something drop inside of him. Like his lungs finally deciding to book it out of whatever fucked up situation Shouta has found himself in. It’s like he’s just been flatlining and now is thrust into cold water. He doesn’t know how he feels about what’s just been said but he doesn’t like it.

“I suppose, as of this point, you’re the, um...you’re the tenth user of One For All.”

Transferable quirks? By consuming DNA???? What in the entire Hell...that’s just impossible, but it being impossible is impossible, too, because All Might is staring him down with the most honest expression he thinks he’s ever seen on anyone’s face. It makes him want to rip his eyes out.

“Uh...congratulations...I, uh...I suppose.”

Shouta shoots up, “I don’t fucking want this.”

All Might’s already nodding his head vigorously before Shouta’s finished, “Yes, yes, yes, I figured you wouldn’t which is why I came in here, Aizawa.”

Shouta is hiding his face in his hands, bowing low on the bed as if he could just sink into the floor, “I have fucking All Might’s quirk...and the quirk of one of my students...and I think I’m dying a little…”

His voice is mumbled into the bed sheets until he glares up at All Might, “Why did Midoriya accept this from you. You said you’d had to have given it to him...do you really think having some transferable quirk that was All Might’s isn’t an erroneous amount of responsibility, Yagi.”

All Might dips his head, “I know it is. I know...but he wanted it, and so I gave him a piece of my hair and chose him. And then he had it.”

Piece of hair...back to the weird DNA thing. But...chose him...Midoriya had to choose him...why would he do that?

It couldn’t have been during their fight. Him and the kid have been in plenty of fight situations and he never gave over this “One For All” back then, not that he had reason to. He didn’t really have reason to during this fight, either, though. Plus, Shouta’s fairly confident he didn’t get any piece of hair or anything in his mouth during all that.

So...if it’s not battle...why would Midoriya “choose” him? How could he have gotten DNA, he doesn’t rememb— 

“No, you’re not doing this to me, kid.”

“Alright, Midoriya...You’re going to have to breathe for me, okay?”

“C’mon, Problem Child...Breathe for me. Please? C’mon…”

CPR. Saliva. 

It just goes hand in hand, really. Training for CPR, they tell you to use mouth protection when doing breaths in order to prevent any saliva from getting in your mouth— as well as diseases. 

But it’s not like he had any of that on him out there, plus he doubted he had anything to worry about thinking back on it here and now, and there's no way in Hell he would just ignore the kid and leave him lying there in the snow, dead. 

The image sends a shiver up his spine. 

But that doesn’t answer the other question, then. Midoriya had to have a reason to transfer it. He had to feel like he had no other choice. He— 

"'zawa s-ensssei-ei?"

"M' I d-dying?"

Shouta feels his heart stop. The raspy, breathy voice echoes in his mind like a nightmare. The small voice, the wet sound of his question. 

His reaction to the onslaught of that particular memory is apparently so strong, All Might is suddenly standing and wading over to the side of his bed. 

"I-I dn't wanna d-die...n-not yet."

“He thought…” Shouta reaches out and grabs an aggressive handful of All Might’s blazer, blinking stinging eyes up at him, “He thought he was dying, Yagi…”

All Might’s eyes go wide. Just like the first time they went over this. 

"I w-wan' m' m-mom-m-m,"

"I wan' t-t-t see my m-mom."

“He transferred it to me because he thought he was dying...oh God…”

It’s harder than before— with this added to it. It’s like a constant physical reminder that those were real thoughts coming out of his student. Not just some rambling in a delirious state. Midoriya thought he was going to die, and he somehow knew Shouta had his DNA, and so he focused on that instead just breathing. 

The fucking kid...he feels the unnatural urge to storm into his room and just...see him. Make sure that he won’t have to worry about dying for a long, long time. 

“Why?” Shouta mumbles, “Why is this ‘One For All’ so important that he was focused on that over himself? How could his priorities be like that?”

All Might sighs tiredly, resting a hand on Shouta’s shoulder, “That’s...a longer story. But...I’ll tell you, if you wish.”

And so he does. 

~~~

“So, we just wanted to come see you before we left, Deku-kun,” Uraraka’s knees are drawn up high where she’s sitting, her thumbs tapping together nervously. Izuku isn’t too sure why she would be so nervous about visiting him— especially since Iida’s right there — but still, “Everyone else is in the hallway...well most everyone.”

“Bakugou’s been a nightmare these past few days, Midoriya-kun,” Iida sighs dramatically, “I’m not too sure how you have so much patience for him.”

Izuku laughs at that, rubbing the back of his head, “It just takes some practice!”

Uraraka leans in close, “Secretly though, I think he was actually worried. I doubt he’d admit it though.”

Most definitely not, Izuku wants to say, but instead just shakes his head and moves on, “So, everyone’s packed up and leaving after you say bye to me?”

Iida nods firmly, giving a stiff thumbs up, “Yes, the bus is parked just downstairs. Apparently Principal Nedzu sent Cementos-sensei to come pick us up. I think Mic-sensei is also coming with us.”

Izuku frowns, “Aizawa-sensei and All Might are staying here, then? Wouldn’t it make more sense for at least Aizawa-sensei to go with you guys? He is everyone’s homeroom teacher, afterall.”

Uraraka puffs out her cheeks, leaning forward and lightly flicking Izuku in the knee, “He’s your homeroom teacher, too, silly.”

“Exactly!” Iida stresses, “It’s a sort of ‘no student left behind’ thing, I believe. I wouldn’t worry about it, Midoriya-kun.”

 That doesn’t serve to make Izuku feel much better, “Yeah, but still. They’re just going to be waiting around for me for another week or so. Aizawa-sensei already got discharged.”

“Yeah, he met us at the hotel to let us know what was happening. Still had that sling on, but he looked better than he did when we visited him that first day,” Uraraka says happily, something forlorn hidden beneath her typical jubilant attitude. 

Izuku blinks, “Wait, you guys came here when we were first admitted?”

“Oh,” Uraraka glances over at Iida and the two of them share a look, “Yeah, we haven’t been back since then, so I guess you wouldn’t have known.”

Iida’s in-charge persona is practically nonexistent when he says, “Right. Well, we all came to see you both here because Bakugou and Mic-sensei had to be seen anyway. Instead of waiting in the lobby, Todoroki-kun, Tsuyu-san and us two came up to see both of you. Aizawa-sensei was awake but wasn’t very... chatty , and you weren’t really awake at all.”

“I didn’t even remember you coming in here,” Izuku says numbly, trying to dig up some memory of at least being told they came to visit. He can’t find one. 

Uraraka shakes her head, “All Might said they had you on a bunch of meds and that you’d probably be out for the next day as well.”

That information settles between them for a long moment. Iida’s hands are on his hips, staring down at his feet. Uraraka seems to decide that her hands are the most interesting thing in the room— staring at them unblinkingly. Both of their clothes are rumpled— especially shocking in Iida’s case because frankly, his perfection complex is pretty extra when it comes to that. 

Izuku can only imagine it. When he woke up two days ago, All Might looked pretty wrecked, as well. Hovering over him and speaking to him in words he couldn’t hear over the whistling in his ears. Izuku had been laying there with a breathing mask on, dead to the world, for two whole days. Whether he needed it or not aside, his friends shouldn’t of had to see that.

“Well, anyway!” Uraraka exclaims a little too loudly, “We’re just happy to see you’re okay now!”

“Yes, we were quite worried, Midoriya-kun!” Iida frowns, forcing himself to meet Izuku’s gaze, “USJ and the Training Camp just kept playing in my mind while we were in the outpost with Mic-sense.”

“Yeah,” Uraraka whispers, “Same here.”

Izuku can see why. Every step they take it seems another villain is attacking them in particular. Izuku wasn't even the first student the villain targeted once he got in. He went for Bakugou, and then Iida, and then Present Mic— etc. He was just wanting to hurt any and every one of them if he could. 

Thankfully, he clearly couldn’t. 

“Well, thankfully Aizawa-sensei took care of the villain before anything more could happen, though.”

Uraraka gapes at Izuku, “Oh! Is that how he broke his arm again?”

“Y—” Izuku feels a slight chill. Why? Maybe...maybe just the memory of his arm breaking? Hmm, “yeah. That’s how.”

‘Wow…”

Really, Izuku knows that there’s a strong possibility that he won’t be able to take back One For All from Aizawa-sensei. It just fits him and how his life has always been. Quirkless before, then he gave away the power in a moment where he thought he needed to, and now he’s going to be quirkless...again. Like All Might. It just makes sense, even if All Might is trying to tell him otherwise. 

And he guesses that it’s never been tries, really. All Might always refused and brushed him off any time he offered to try and give him One For All back, so for all they know it might not work. 

But All Might’s still trying...he went and spoke with Aizawa-sensei yesterday. 

And Aizawa-sensei still hasn’t come to speak with him.

He doesn’t end up visiting him throughout the rest of his stay, either.

~~~ 

“So...let me get this straight…”

All Might’s face has looked pained for the past half hour since he decided to break the secret he’s apparently been keeping for the past four or so decades. It’s subtle, but Shouta’s good at looking for subtle hints. Simply put, it’s just part of his job. 

“You...gave a fourteen year old—”

“Fifteen.”

“You said he was fourteen at the time he agreed to it, right?”

All Might worries his lip between his teeth and nods uncertainly. Like he’s scared of where this is going.  

“So...you unloaded all this information onto a fourteen year old quirkless kid you had just met, and then you train him for about half a year. Then, you give him this quirk— the quirk that has all this background and these responsibilities you just were talking to me about— the day of the Entrance Exam. And that was the first time he used it?”

All Might nods hesitantly, eyes flickering from meeting Shouta’s gaze to looking off past his head towards the window behind him, “Yes.”

“Okay, alright…” Shouta takes a deep breath, “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

All Might sighs heavily, gesturing vaguely in front of him, “Enough people have asked me that recently that you would think I’d begin considering but, uh, no...I don’t think I am.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“How— how is giving a fifteen year old child with anxiety issues not a bad thing.”

“Because that fifteen year old child is something else entirely underneath, and I know you’ve seen it too.”

He has. The first day of class, when he proved a point to Shouta while looking him in the eye. USJ, when he tried to defend his classmates. The Sports Festival, when he ripped his hands and arms apart to try force Todoroki’s fire. The Training Camp, when he went running back into the woods to save Bakugou and his other peers despite both his arms being broken. Kamino Ward, him jumping out there in the middle of one of the most serious villain battles in history just to get Bakugou out of there. And just recently, the yakuza raid, where he defeated Overhaul and saved Eri despite the risk to himself. 

He’s seen it plenty. Plenty . 

Even out there in the snow. The kid jumped in front of Shouta. It’s the whole reason he got stabbed in the shoulder in the first place. The whole reason he got knocked onto the ice. If Midoriya hadn’t done that, Shouta would have been the one going under and drowning.

And then at the main building of the facility. Fevered and wounded and out of it, the kid still distracted the villain long enough for Shouta to land his attack...regardless of the outcome.

Shouta’s seen plenty and yet, “That doesn’t matter, Yagi.”

All Might sighs irritably, “Why not? You didn’t see how desperate he was for a quirk, Shouta. How desperate he was for me to tell him he could be a hero and I flat out told him ‘ no ’—”

All Might suddenly hides his face in the palm of his hands, a small mumble coming from him, “God, why did I ever say that to him.”   

Shouta frowns, “So...you gave it to him because he wanted it— risk and all?”

“Pretty much,” All Might says, face still buried in his hand, “And that he showed that he was worthy of it.”

“Right,” Shouta, “Okay, so you gave this incredibly powerful— powerful enough to kill someone with a single punch—quirk to a gifted fifteen year old child ?”

“Yes.”

Shouta chooses this instant to place his own face in the palm of his hand, “Fucking Hell, Yagi.” 

“Look I get it, alright?”

“You get it?” Shouta laughs, “Did you even care that he was a kid?”

“I...no.”

Shouta starts at that, completely expecting the opposite answer. “ No”? What does he mean, “no”?

“What?”

“I didn’t care that he was a kid. Not then,” All Might says again, looking up to lock gazes with Shouta, “But that’s all I’ve cared about ever since. And maybe that’s my curse to bear— realizing the danger I’ve put him in. I didn’t think about it before, I thought I was doing him a favor more than anything— making him great, but now . He deserves it wholeheartedly, but I sometimes question if it was the right call. All the time.”

Shouta listens to his reasoning. He hears the— the ‘heartbreak’ he’d almost call it in every word. Like this very topic is something that haunts All Might. The questions he must have. The uncertainty of his own abilities and choices. 

“So…” Shouta starts, trying to find the best way to say this, “Why...give it back to him, then?”

All Might actually looks affronted at the idea. Boney brows pushed in and looking almost angry, “Because it’s his, Aizawa. He’s a part of it, and vice-versa.”

The words hit a sort of beat. Firmness in place of how the retired hero usually seems to speak to him like. It makes Shouta take his words as a steel-coated fact, not an argument. 

Shouta nods, “Alright...for the record, I wasn’t actually considering keeping it from Midoriya, Yagi. I don’t want it, and he’s already done so much with it in only a year. I don’t think I have the right to keep it from him even if I wanted to.”

“Oh,” Yagi shifts in his chair, drumming his fingers on it, but not nervously. Almost excitedly, “Well, alright then. I’m, uh, I’m glad.”

Shouta sighs, feeling like now, with everything swimming around his brain, would be the perfect time for a nap. 

Midoriya was quirkless— no idea how to use his or any quirk. Was just so lucky enough to get a self-destructive quirk when he did get one, and Shouta reprimanded him the first day for lacking control. Right now, it makes perfect sense. The broken bones, the lack of control, the nervousness when using it the first couple times. 

He could have helped...if he had known.

He should have been able to see that there was something more going on than Midoriya simply neglecting his quirk— that had been his initial thought. That Midoriya didn’t care to practice with his quirk and so now he lacked all semblances of control. 

Even if that was the case, Shouta wouldn’t exactly blame the kid if he didn’t want to practice the quirk that shatters his limbs.

But he hadn’t looked into any of it. Hadn’t tried to look into it. 

At least...now he has a new perspective on it—seeing as the quirk is currently with him , not Midoriya.

He didn’t do anything then, but he can do something now.

“Maybe I can work with him privately— see what issues he’s still having with it and work through them…”

All Might smiles at him— warm and relieved, “He’d like that and I’d...appreciate it. You’re a far better teacher than I am, Aizawa. But, I’m trying!”

“Cut yourself some slack, Yagi. You’ve had a lot going on.”

~~~ 

The police came a day before Izuku was discharged. They had recorders and notepads and they insisted on sitting in the room alone with him despite All Might’s protests. And frankly...they weren’t that bad. Just straight to the point. 

They asked questions about what happened up on the mountain. About the villain. What happened leading to his...death. 

Izuku didn’t remember many details.

The longer the conversation went on, the more clear it was that they weren’t investigating the incident for the students, but rather a case about the villain’s death. Like, whether it was a last resort for him to die, or if it was carelessness. 

Killing and heroes doesn’t meld well in Izuku’s mind. All Might was never shown killing people in any broadcasts or comics or advertisements. Whatever, it just didn’t go well with his image as an inspiring hero. 

But then he was told about All Might’s fight with All For One and how it wasn’t made public— how All Might had thought and hoped he had killed him in the fight. And it makes sense...but the image still just doesn’t... click well. 

Still...the speculation that Aizawa-sensei would kill someone carelessly just for an “easy way out” sparked something hot and ravenous inside Izuku. 

“The villain had killed all those people, and was trying to kill me—all of us,” Izuku had told them, “My teacher wouldn’t have killed him unless there was no other way.”

That was all there was to say, really. Too much was too fuzzy for him to have more of an argument than that. And frankly, Izuku doubted that his words would really do much if there was genuinely a case being made against Eraserhead. 

Lately with how much negative media attention UA and Aizawa-sensei were getting…

“You ready, Young Midoriya?”

Izuku jumps, spinning on his heels to face the hospital room doorway. His jacket’s being struggled halfway on— a sling still forcing his arm to not move. They said Recovery Girl would fix it the rest of the way once he got back to campus and he could not wait until then, “Oh! Sorry! Yeah, I’m ready.”

All Might smiles from the doorway, waving for Izuku to follow him. Izuku quickly grabs his book bag from the side of the bed and charges out of the room after the older man. 

Mic-sensei had brought the bag in with him the day before. He said it was at the police precinct as evidence since it was in the main building of the training facility as part of the crime scene. Same with all of the rest of his classmates' belongings— which got released before they were taken back to campus. 

He didn’t fail to notice that he was missing quite a few things. A couple shirts and his toothbrush— probably destroyed in the wreckage of the facility.There was atleast enough in there for him to have a clean change of clothes for the drive home. 

 But the main heartbreak was that his Hero Notebook was no longer in there, either. It was always in his bag when he headed off anywhere, just in case he needed it. He was almost finished with it, too— almost to the back cover, and now it was probably crushed by debris or covered in snow somewhere. Which...probably wasn’t good, since he had a lot of theories written in there about heroes and his classmates— about their quirks, their weaknesses, their strengths, etc. 

He finds himself actually hoping it was destroyed and not just sitting off somewhere waiting to be found. 

Izuku’s so lost in thought that he almost runs right smack into All Might from behind. He doesn’t seem to notice, though, turning and pointing over to the receptionist desk at the end of the hallway, “You go on and head outside, I’m just going to sign you out at the front desk, okay?”

Izuku nods, “Okay.”

“Aizawa and Mic are out there, you’ll see them,” All Might pats his shoulder twice before leaving him, walking over to the receptionist desk jovially. He gives a small wave, cringing slightly when the lady across the desk squeals a little at seeing him. That probably means it’ll take a little longer than expected...Izuku sleuths his way out of the hallway and into the waiting room. 

It’s not too full, only a few people sitting at seats looking relatively okay. He doesn’t even remember being wheeled in through this room...it doesn’t strike him as familiar. 

The automatic doors open for him and he suddenly comes face to face with a black SUV parked at the front of the hospital. 

“Heeeeeeeey, little listener!” Izuku cringes at the sudden ear-splitting noise that comes from the other side of the vehicle, “Thought you got lost in there or something!” 

“S-sorry!” Izuku flushes as Mic-sensei peeks his head around the side of the car, “I was making sure I had everything!”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, bud.”

Slowly, Izuku moves to the back passenger side door and pops it open. His heart jolts only a little when he sees Aizawa-sensei sitting on the other side, head leaning back and eyes closed. His one arm’s still in a sling— probably the same deal with getting it fixed the rest of the way up once they got back to UA. 

The underground hero cracks one eye open, glancing over at Izuku without even turning his head, “I thought I heard Mic’s screechy voice talking to someone.”

“Ah,” Izuku hums, staring at the older man as though he was about to grow an extra head or something, “Yeah, it’s...it was just me.”

“Hm.”

He’s acting relatively calm for...everything that’s happened. 

All Might said he spoke to Aizawa-sensei about One For All days ago. He also said that it went better than he expected, but when it came to Aizawa-sensei that’s not saying much. And then he wasn’t able to see him until right now. And he was acting like everything was perfectly fine in the world— his usual, tired self.

Izuku frowned. 

“You going to get in, or what?”

He jumps, blinking owlishly up at Aizawa, who’s now staring at him like he’s about to grow another head. A strange turn. 

“Ah, y-yeah. Yeah.” 

Bracing his foot on the side of the SUV, Izuku grips the seat with his usable hand and pulls himself up into it. The bag makes it more awkward, as does the fact that the SUV is ridiculously tall. His teachers could probably get into it just fine and without struggle, but they were also a foot taller than him at least.

He sits down, whips his bag off and puts it down by his feet with a huff. When he sits back he takes a moment to sigh at once again being able to sit down.

His teacher’s watching him, but the lack of emotion isn’t quite there anymore. Izuku swears he sees a weird edge to his brow, and a clinching of his jaw, but it’s gone in the next moment. Maybe he just imagined it. 

“All Might said he’ll be right out,” Izuku says in lieu of just remaining in the silence of the SUV. He reaches over and pulls the door closed. Mic-sensei is still outside, leaning against the car with his phone out, tapping through whatever is on it. 

It’s a little weird to see all his teachers outside of a school setting— including field trips— but, with their last trip still heavy on everyone’s minds, he supposes it shouldn’t really be that strange at all. 

Aizawa-sensei sighs, “Sorry about not coming to see you, kid. I was caught up in taking care of legal business.”

Izuku blinks, pulling awkwardly at the seat belt hanging beside him unbuckled nervously, “Oh, well, that’s okay. I figured you were busy.”

He grunts, something flashing across his face. Like he was thinking hard about something. Something he wasn’t very happy about. He looks up and out the window towards Present Mic, and Izuku can only barely see the look that the sound hero passes his way before it’s gone. 

Maybe something’s wrong? “Is everything oka—”

“I’m sorry about everything else, too,” Aizawa-sensei cuts in, “You shouldn’t have been put in that position, and I should have taken care to make sure that you got to safety above all else.”

Izuku gapes, mouth bobbing up and down while he processes that. No, that’s not right. Izuku chose to have the villain follow him. Villain attacks can’t be predicted, and they can’t be prevented if the villain is just really powerful like this one was, “You don’t have to say that! It was my fault I got hurt, anyways. Not yours!”

“That’s not true,” Aizawa-sensei’s voice is cold as he stares daggers into the headrest of the front seat, “You pushed me out of the way after I stabbed him,” he glances over, eyeing Izuku’s shoulder exhaustedly, “I would have been in your position if you hadn’t. You saved me kid.”

He stares at his teacher for a long moment, feeling his cheeks burning at the unexpected praise but also feeling like fire was eating up his insides by the fact that this wasn’t correct . Aizawa-sensei had nothing to feel sorry for. Sometimes bad things just happen. 

“And regardless,” Aizawa-sensei continues, “I’m your teacher. I’m responsible for you. Even if these things just happen sometimes, it’s my job to protect you from it to the best of my ability, and I didn’t.”

The words come easily to Izuku, “But you saved me, too.”

Aizawa-sensei’s eyebrows shoot up, a look of surprise passing over his face as he flinches a little. Flinches . Eraserhead doesn’t just flinch . Especially when just speaking to one of his students. 

“I— I mean, I don’t really remember all that much, but I remember you getting me to the outpost. You kept talking to me and I’m guessing you pulled me out of the lake, too. So...you, uh, saved me, too. It wasn’t just me.”

Aizawa looks at him for a long moment, studying him like there was something more to his words that there actually were. After a moment he turns away, glancing out the window again as if to make sure nobody was listening. Looking now, All Might was also out there chatting with Mic-sensei about something...when did that happen?

Aizawa-sensei looks back to him, eyes hard, “You gave me your quirk, Midoriya. All Might told me all about it. That ’s what saved us from the villain— my...ineptitude with it.”

Izuku blanches, looking down at his feet, “Yeah...uh...sorry. About that.”

Aizawa-sensei sighs again, rubbing a hand down his face as if it could wipe away the bags under his eyes, “Don’t— just, look, it’s fine. I understand your... situation now. There’s just a lot going on right now, but...we’ll take care of it. I’ll give it back to you, All Might said it should be possible— no, I don’t really want to think about the process of giving it back right now—but it’ll get worked out. After Recovery Girl fixes you up, that is.”

That’s not exactly it, though. That’s not what’s been tugging at his mind for the past week or so. Sure, One For All’s secret getting out, and what’s more, him accidentally— or... not so accidentally— passing it on to his homeroom teacher is a pretty terrible situation. But Aizawa-sensei has this knack for feeling safe and defusing situations. Even if he hadn’t spoken to his teacher since way back, he wasn’t really concerned about getting One For All back, surprisingly. Or even his reaction— though, that was a pretty nerve wracking thing, too.

Not the main thing, though.

“I wasn’t really worried about you giving it back...I was just worried you were angry with me.”

Aizawa-sensei looks down at his own feet, a frown tugging at his lips, “I wasn’t angry at you. Far from it, I just—” he sighs deeply— it causes his entire torso to shift, his slinged arm to swing precariously from his neck, “Look, I don’t like talking about this in general, much less with my own students, but after seeing the things I’ve seen in my hero work...after—after getting close to people and losing them...it’s hard after something like this happens. I’m sure you get that, too. In some way.” 

Izuku doesn’t respond. He’s not sure how to respond.

He doesn’t know if he’s just taking everything in stride or what. It hasn’t quite settled in his brain yet that he almost died — multiple times, in fact. In multiple different ways. And his teachers were there at every turn to get him to safety. 

It’s...strange. Especially after so many poor experiences with teachers in the past. All of them treating him like he wasn’t worth their time while also treating him like he could be so easily shattered with just slight force. A weird and brutal combo. 

But All Might and Aizawa-sensei both helped him far more than they should have had to, and at the same time trusted him enough to help them. Not just in this past experience, but multiple times. Plenty of times. Izuku just can’t quite wrap his head around that. Not yet, anyways. 

Maybe someday. 

“Here.”

Something taps against Izuku’s chest, knocking him out of his musings. When he looks down, he’s met with the worn, stained, and beautiful cover of his Hero Notebook. His face practically splits in two, “Woah! Where’d you find this!”

His teacher huffs a small, almost non-detectable laugh as Izuku practically rips the notebook out of his hands, “They had it as evidence back at the precinct— said they found it in a pile of rubble,” he leans his head back against his headrest again, “I convinced them to give it to me once they were done looking it over.”

Izuku, smile plastered across his face, arduously flips through the notebook one-handed. There’s water stains, ink smearing across the pages in some spots, small splinters of wood stabbed into other pages, but it’s whole. Intact and not accidentally revealing a bunch of information to someone less than deserving of it.

He stops abruptly when something catches his eye. He’s flipped through this notebook hundreds of times, memorizing most pages as he goes, and something new is definitely there. Not just a splotch or a smear or a splinter, either. Fresh ink. Dark and neatly scrawled across a page he wrote nearly half a year ago. 

Eraserhead , it says. 

“I shouldn’t have done this because you did technically run off, even if it was to try and save your peers, but...I don’t know, maybe I’m just a ‘softie’, as Mic would say.”

Something catches in Izuku’s throat as he looks down at the signature. He honestly hadn’t thought that Aizawa-sensei even remembered that conversation. It seemed like something that he’d easily forget because it wasn’t worth his time. Yet, here they were. 

“Thank you, Aizawa-sensei.”

It has more than one meaning. More than just thanking him over signing the notebook. He knows they’ll have plenty to talk about in the future. This conversation was just scratching the surface on multiple topics that will need to be covered, many of which will probably be far from pleasant. 

But here and now, a simple ‘thank you’ feels like enough. 

Aizawa-sensei seems to agree. He fails at hiding the smile, turning away to look out the window as though something more interesting was out there. 

“Of course, Problem Child.”