Chapter Text
Ryo wonders if he cannot start barking at Aizawa. Logically, he knows he is “an adult” and “a professional” and “better than that.” Logically, Aizawa should have shut the fuck up and consulted him before doing anything with regards to Midoriya fearing him, let alone bungling the entire operation before it had time to begin.
(Deep breaths, Ryo. Deep fucking breaths. What a situation. Woof.)
“Aizawa,” it’s very carefully not a snarl, “why did you feel the need to corner my newest patient—alone—after being told he feels unsafe with you? A-woof.”
Aizawa blinks very slowly. He looks like a cat, thinks Ryo uncharitably. “He didn’t say he felt unsafe. Just that I didn’t like him. It’s important to clear up misunderstandings like that given I’m his homeroom teacher and responsible for his well being. It was a logical course of action.”
Ryo wishes he could punt this Mr. Spock knockoff into the sun. He does not hate Aizawa by any means, but the man drives him up the goddamn wall and then some. Logic this. Logic that. People are not fucking logical. They don’t fit into neat little boxes (that’s called stereotyping, Aizawa) or make the most calculated decisions known to man (that’s called having emotions, Aizawa). People are mess and illogical and, yes, unkind and uncharitable and unheroic. Sort of like how Ryo is being right now (Aizawa deserves it. Just a bit.).
Children are the worst of it, though. They bear the worst of it too. Their brains are just so soft and squishy and, really, the current societal structures just fuck everyone up left and right. Especially hero students.
Aizawa, disaster of a man he is, is a prime example of that. He is held together by caffeine, felines, Hizashi-san and, like, duct tape or something. Maybe a dash of hot sauce and sake. Definitely not stellar mental health or, Kami-forbid, sleep. Quite frankly Ryo has been recommending a forced medical leave of absence for, oh, the past five years or so. He is not Aizawa’s therapist and does not want to be (conflict of interest anyone?) so he goes ignored. That said, Aizawa’s actual therapist also goes ignored or is being bribed; for all his strict ethics courses, Aizawa plays fast and loose with the law at the best of times. Bless Hizashi-san and Nemuri-san for dealing with his ass.
“He thinks you hate him. Woof. Obviously that makes him feel unsafe.”
“That’s illogical. Even if I did dislike him my job depends on his well being. He may have had negative experiences with authority figures in the past, but they were not me. They were not UA.” Aizawa looks disgruntled. Then again he never looks gruntled. Ever.
“That’s easy to say and hard to internalize. He’s probably been producing an internal dialogue that vilifies you, for lack of a better term. And you, of all people, know associations are hard to break. Woof.” Aizawa glares a hole into Ryo’s cherry-wood desk. Thankfully, he keeps his death stare away from Ryo’s knickknacks—they are all very sensitive to negative energy, especially his troll dolls.
“I don’t understand.” Ryo knows this.
“Aizawa, it’s fine that you struggle with empathy. Really, it is. Woof. But you can’t play fast and loose with students. Woof. You know you struggle in this area, and you know you’re not in charge here—I am. You should’ve waited. Now I have to rework Midoriya-kun’s care plan.” Aizawa seethes just a bit more than normal.
“Must you critique everything I do?”
“Maybe if you followed your own lessons I wouldn’t have to. Woof.”
“You and Kan, I swear to Kami.” Ryo resents that. Sekijiro-san and Ryo do not want to alienate Aizawa. He is just a prick. And bad at mental healthcare. Making heroes? Amazing. Keeping them safe physically? You got it. Caring for their mental well being? Not a chance in hell.
Ryo sighs. “I’m not your enemy here. There is no enemy here. There is no easy fix. Stop escalating situations. Midoriya is sick. It’s all in his head, sure, because that’s where his brain is. I know you know this. I know you understand the logic. Just sit down and sit back for once. This is not your jurisdiction. I mean it, Eraser.”
“How did you even know about it huh?” Deflection. Ryo calls him on it.
“A-wuff. Give me your word and I’ll tell you.” All considered, Aizawa should know.
“Fine,” he says sourly.
“Nemuri-san felt you bit off more than you could chew and were going to, ah, fuck it six ways to Sunday. Woof. You have a habit of blowing delicate operations sky high when they’re not, you know, related to underground heroics.”
“Hmph.” His face closes off and Ryo knows things just got way more complicated for the staff’s most iconic trio. Poor Hizashi-san will probably need to moderate.
All the same, Nemuri-san was right to come to him. Poor Midoriya-kun most be so overwhelmed. Her talk was necessary, yes, but Aizawa’s? Not right now. Not like that.
Damn does Ryo have his work cut out for him.