Archive of Our Own ^beta

Something was… off, with his class.

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed.

They weren’t fighting (more than usual). He couldn’t find the tell-tale signs of someone hiding an injury. There was no student missing (he had already made three headcounts, triple checking none of them were clones, or robots, or a double in disguise). No one seemed to be holding back tears, not even Midoriya . 

They were the perfect picture of regular high school students, or as much as they could be while running a mock-rescue exercise. Working in teams as ordered, with the usual squabbles but nothing… out of the ordinary.

It was too peaceful. Too perfect. The kind of class he’d dreamed to have ever since their first villain attack, that would apparently set the tone for the rest of 1-A’s year. 

So why did he feel like his students were up to something?

There were no alarm bells ringing in the background of his mind, so he could think of two options; he had gotten way too used to shit going ass up for it to register in his danger-radar, or whatever they had going on wasn’t as terrible as it could be. In either case, he had no concrete proof, and he’d need that to properly interrogate any of them and have them ‘fess up. Damned the day he decided to teach them how to hold themselves up when deep in hot water and keep themselves from tattling; even the most weak-willed (which wasn’t much, considering how damned stubborn they all were) was capable of holding eye contact with him and deny everything without breaking, as long as he didn’t have any dirt to shove in their faces. 

He was so fucking proud of those little shits, it was awful.

Successful teachings aside, past patterns had proven again and again that whenever they unanimously agreed on something, and doubled down on it well enough to hide it from him, it was bound to end in disaster. He could count three separate situations last month alone of them deciding on something as a group, and then having it blowing up spectacularly on their faces, leaving twenty innocent looking teenages looking all doe-eyed at Aizawa like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths, as they explained how they thought it was going to be alright while something -almost always a building- burned to ashes in the background.

A life working as an underground hero, facing the worst of the villain underbelly, fighting against absolute monsters again and again… and it was worrying about these little shits that was going to push him to an early grave.

The League of Villains wishes they were this good at generating soul wrenching distress on heroes. They could probably learn a thing or two from his students, if they weren’t as hell bent on killing them. Or adopting them. Or (blergh) dating them.

Back to his class, he decides the best course of action is keep them within his sight as long as possible, and hopefully they’d slip up and give the truth away eventually. Hopefully, before something other than Bakugo explodes. 

As of right now… They are in the middle of a mock rescue exercise, where each group (consisting of four students each) would take turns between being criminals, their hostages, and the heroes sent to the scene. Each group had to be in every position at least once, because Aizawa hoped that they’d not only learn attack and defense strategies from the first and last role, but also patience from being forced to sit still while their classmates tried to ‘save’ them. A pipe dream, really, but somewhere deep in his rotten heart he still held onto the hope that he’d teach them some self preservation instincts before they were set loose on the population three years from now.

Right now, his attention was split between the three screens (showing Aoyama, Uraraka, Koda and Sero as heroes, Tsuyu, Kaminari, Shouji and Sato as civilians, and Tenya, Kirishima, Jiro and Hagakure as the heroes for this round) displaying the undergoing exercise, and the two groups waiting in the sidelines for their turn. Normally, he’d be fully focused on the students currently using their quirk against each other, but since the ones supposedly waiting included the most problematic of the children under his guidance, he couldn’t just trust in their abilities to keep their shit together. 

In any other situation, he’d have Bakugo and Midoriya as far from each other as humanly possible, but he’d hoped that thrusting them in one team and pitting them against Todoroki would teach them how to work together, or tolerate each other long enough to collaborate at the very least. His apparently eternal beef against the fire-ice user could help keep Bakugo focused on him instead of beating All Might’s favorite to a pulp, and said problem child would be too distracted planning strategies to win against Todoroki’s frankly ridiculously strong quirk to rile up his former best friend to the point of getting an explosion aimed to his face.

Still, beacuse he wasn’t dumb nor under any desire to tempt his fate, he’d ordered both groups to stand on opposite sides of the waiting area, forbiding any of them to approach the others. Ojiro, Todoroki, Yaoyorozu and Shinso weren’t much of a concern, barring Todoroki getting bored and trying to talk to Midoriya; so, most of his already split attention was focused on the last four.

All this to say, he normally wouldn’t have noticed, nor cared; but being the situation as it was, and being as on edge as he was regarding his student’s suspicious vibes, he immediately caught on to Ashido trying to subtly inch her way closer to the other side of the room, trying to gesture something at Yaoyorozu behind Aizawa’s back.

“I said, stay in your corners” he snaps, not turning to look at her fully, because he knew his students freaked out when he acted like he had eyes in the back of his head, and he takes any opportunity to instill the fear of Eraserhead in them. If they won’t obey him out of respect they will because they are terrified of the consequences .

Ashido stills. Then, her hand moves again. Yaoyorozu seems to finally notice her classmate, and automatically moves to cross the distance herself, ever the obliging class vice rep. 

“The order was for you, too. No cross teaming; figurative or literal.”

Yaoyorozu stops. By now, each girl’s teammates have noticed the situation, and though they don’t seem to understand, they pay close attention to the exchange.

“But, sir, I just need to ask Momo something, real quick…”

“Then speak.”

“It’s… private…”

It’s hard to tell because of her skin color, but he’s almost sure Ashido is blushing; something truly weird for his shameless, upfront student. Whatever it is, she’s ashamed of it or doesn’t want it broadcasted. But he’s not in the mood to bend his rules for some gossip or girl talk, so he turns his head in the slightest to glare at her.

She visibly backs down, but doesn’t look any less nervous. If anything, she fidgets even more.

“Then it can wait until recess. You should be paying attention to the classmates running through the exercise, seeing as your team comes next. No better time to strategize.”

Granted, since she was on a team with both Bakugo and Midoriya, any plan they come up with could probably be summarized as ‘I threw an angry grenade and a chaotic bomb at the problem until it stopped being one’. Still, though, it’s the principle of the thing.

“Sir, please…”

Aizawa would have paid more attention to her genuinely conflicted tone, trying to investigate further since it was apparently important enough for her to insist, but an explosion on screen made him re-focus on the students currently fighting and double down on his final denial.

Still, he could hear the kids behind him moving a bit among their own groups, but as long as they didn’t cross-

“Yeah, I’m okay guys, don’t worry…”

“Are you sure, Ashido-san?”

“Yas, princess !”

Now, Aizawa knows his students. He knows their mannerisms and their little eccentricities, and has learned to love them a little, because they are part of what makes them unique. Even at their most childish, he likes the reminder of how young they are; it keeps him sharp, knowing these children still need him to protect them, to shield them -at least a little- from the ugly of the world. And right now, that knowledge is telling him- one of Mina’s catchphrases is ‘yass Queen’, or ‘yass Empress’ when she’s trying especially hard to hype someone up.  But never princess, because she seems to hate the lower hierarchical title with her whole heart, or maybe it has to do with the correlation between princesses and the color pink that was most likely made to her during her childhood.

Silly, maybe inconsequential, but it’s weird enough that Aizawa’s attention is piqued again. 

And so, he turns around just in time to watch Midoriya fucking decking Bakugo. 

Totally unprompted, no forewarning, no hesitation. He didn’t even scream- though they surely are screaming now, Bakugo -for some reason apparently unsurprised, but still evidently pissed- returning hit for hit. Todoroki, predictably, is already halfway to them, because if Midoriya is fighting, he has to be involved or else he’ll explode. And behind him trail the rest of his team like lost little ducklings, whether to help in the impromptu fistfight or to help separate the two explosives-in-human-skin of 1-A, who’s to know.

Then Aizawa remembers, yeah, shit, fighting students, and uncoils his scarf.

Now thoroughly distracted, he doesn’t bother to stop the girls from hunching together and speaking in short whispers, barely catching Ashido’s frantic ‘please take a look?’ and Yaoyorozu’s reply of ‘It’s okay, no stains, you’re good’.

He’s too busy simultaneously screaming at Problem Child #1 and #2 and putting the training exercise on hold to really pay attention to details, so maybe it was his imagination, but he thinks he hears Ashido mumble something along the lines of ‘thank fuck for Denki’ . 

Then Midoriya and Bakugo are fist bumping, or maybe it was a last ditch attempt at hitting each other, but just in case, he tightens his grip on the scarf around both teens and screams louder.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The incident passes without fanfare, because Aizawa is that used to Bakugo and Midoriya fighting for apparently no reason, out of the blue. He doesn’t correlate their impromptu deathmatch to whatever suspicious vibe the class as a whole is carrying, so he stays vigilant but doesn’t start to connect dots just yet. He needs more information.

And now… this.

The day had been going great, which at this point, he should take as a surefire way to know when shit’s about to go down. He was just so hopeful- they weren’t even doing a physical activity, nothing that would get his student’s blood pumped and ready to clash against each other. They were almost acting like civilized members of society, wonder of wonders, and they were hearing his lecture about different types of heroes with mid interest, which was already a miracle in and of itself. Even if Kaminari seemed totally zoned out and Ashido was most likely daydreaming, he decided to count his blessings and kept going with the program.

“...and that’s it on underground heroes. Frankly, there’s not much information about their numbers nor identities, considering their jobs are easier the further they are from the limelight.”

He can see Shinsou smirking in the back of the class, obviously smug about the fact that, thanks to interning with Aizawa himself, he has been able to meet quite a few more underground heroes than the ones covered in the lesson. That to show him how not being so flashy has more benefits other than ‘the villains are more likely to hit the tank than the spy’.

Sitting next to Shinsou (they had been so good that week, and Aizawa believed in reinforcing good behavior, so they had been allowed to switch their seating arrangements for the day; The gay and/or pining in most of his students had truly shone through with the opportunity, as some predictable pairings had instantly migrated towards each other), Kaminari mutters something under his breath that has his apprentice smiling that shy, honest smile that’s Aizawa’s favorite in his student. On his other side (sitting directly behind Hagakure because of course ), Ojiro is punching his shoulder in gentle camaraderie, while Kirishima gives a thumbs up. Everyone else is smiling softly, barring Bakugo who just looks slightly less constipated, all obviously supportive of their favorite underground hero prospective.

Fucking shits. He is so proud of them.

Smiling secretly under his scarf, Aizawa keeps going. 

“Now, onto regular pro-heroes… you could say there’s no identical hero. Everyone has things that define them, beyond just their quirks. Like the way they interact with civilians. For example, former Pro Hero Ingenium…”

Someone chokes. Aizawa doesn’t need to look to know it was Iida. He truly regrets having to bring his brother up, full aware of how sore the subject is for him, but the kids need to understand the different facets of hero society as a whole, and it was demanded of him to include Ingenium in his curriculum. So-

“Aizawa-sensei?”

He stops, midway through explaining Ingenium’s old stats and describing the peak in his career. He nods at Iida, carefully stony gaze giving him permission to speak but reminding him Aizawa was not one to back down from an important lecture.

“I just… I wanted to know if we could not…” noticing his teacher’s gaze sharpening, Iida seemed to make a half second decision and switched tracks. “I mean, I wanted to ask about your boots. They seemed… like very comfortable footwear. They… slay. ”

That… that was pretty fucking weird. Iida wasn’t normally one to interrupt classes -even ones that visually upset him-, especially not to ask such inconsequent things (and, slay ? Was he turning into Ashido? Hagakure? God forbid, Denki ? An intervention was obviously needed, asap). Were he anyone else, Aizawa would suspect it to be part of a prank.

Still, whatever his motivation might have been (probably to derail the conversation about his brother), Iida still disrupted class without a reason, so Aizawa was ready to verbally rip him a new one and keep going, when he heard the most damning sound a 1-A student could make, one he had a Pavlovian- response to now, immediately activating his fight or sigh instinct (because there was no escaping these monsters).

“Ouch”

Like the good, PTSD-ridden children that they are, they all instantly turn, following the sound and Aizawa’s gaze to Todoroki, who couldn’t have sounded more deadpan in his verbalization of pain if he tried.

“Todoroki, what’s the issue?”

The student in question raises his right hand. Which is now sporting a burn mark. On his ice side.

The explanation for this better be a damn good one.

“I burned myself.”

“I can see that. How did that happen, exactly?”

Todoroki shrugs. He’s not looking at any of his classmates, focusing on Aizawa, not breaking eye contact.

“I was in a silly goofy mood.”

If he could get away with murdering one child… no, he would still pick Midoriya. But… no, Bakugo was second. Todoroki might come in third, though.

“Ah, that was a joke”, he corrects, almost unheard under his classmate’s giggles. “It was an accident, sensei. I miscalculated my inner temperature regulation and… Fire.”

Feeling just too tired to try and unravel the truth behind Todoroki’s sudden clumsiness, he gave into the desire to sigh, hoping to leak out just enough of his soul with that action that he might possibly die on the spot.

“Okay, go see Recovery Girl.”

With that taken care off (he would investigate further later, of course, but right now he had a class to run), he turned back to the blackboard, and/

“Can someone accompany me?”

You like these kids. They are children. Murdering children is bad, specially when you like them.

His internal mantra wasn’t quiet as soothing, all of a sudden.

“You burned your hand, not your legs. I fail to see how that would require you to be escorted to the nurse’s office.”

Todoroki seems to think for a second, so blatantly unsubtle in his attempt to come up with a viable excuse that it’s a little funny even to Aizawa. Begrudgingly.

“I slept badly last night, and I didn’t have breakfast. I fear I might pass out on my way there, so I should be accompanied by someone responsible.”

Every day was such a struggle.

He was going to regret asking this, wasn’t he? “And why didn't you sleep or eat?”

“I had a nightmare where my Father eloped with Hawks, and both asked me to refer to them as ‘Papa’ and ‘Daddy’, respectively. It was very disgusting, which in turn made me unable to stomach breakfast. I still feel sick thinking about it, so that’s another reason for why someone should come with me.”

Oh, look at that, he was right. He did regret it.

Now he was sure the little shit was fucking with him, because the rest of his students were very obviously avoiding eye contact among themselves, like they’d burst into tears of laughter if they crossed gazes. Except Todoroki, who had the best poker face he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t accuse the boy of lying without concrete proof.

He needed a latte. But with Vodka instead of coffee, and tequila instead of milk. 

“Fine, sure. You can be walked there by…”

“Sir, I think Iida should go! He’s the class rep, after all!” bursted Tokoyami, seemingly the first one to recover from Todoroki almost killing them with his deadpan sass. Soon, everyone was echoing him, and really, Aizawa truly didn’t care, as long as it got the class back in order quickly.

“Iida, if you would?”

Soon enough, both students were gone, followed by his classmate’s helpless giggles. 

Aizawa just sighed again, going back to his blackboard and trying to corral them back into focusing on the lesson. So much, that he almost missed Iida’s grateful expression, and the rest of the student’s smug ones.

So there was a mystery afoot, huh. Well. He’d figure it out, sooner or later.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

This time, it didn’t completely take him by surprise. Or at least, he had been expecting shenanigans, even if the outcome wasn’t the one he had in mind.

After all, as dumb as Kaminari liked to act, there was a method to his foolery; he wasn’t as impulsive as many of his classmates, curiously. Probably a side effect of a Quirk that could incapacitate both friends and foes the same, he made sure it was safe to act before jumping the gun. 

As such, the week leading to that morning had given Aizawa plenty of forewarning; first, the kid had approached him after class, as serious and subdued as he knew how to act. And that had probably tipped the tides in his favor, since Aizawa was irredeemably endeared by that show of trust his student had in him. It wasn’t easy, to come forward and say what he did, and then ask for help so he could give his fellow classmates the same opportunity. It was really kind of him, so even if he could imagine the utter chaos that would follow, the underground hero couldn’t help but promise Kaminari his support and actually escort him when he decided to ask Nedzu for his blessing, as a backup.

So, no. When Kaminari bursted through the door that morning, usual uniform discarded in place of one colored pink, purple and blue, carrying some heavy looking bags with him, he didn’t even flinch. Even if the dramatics reminded him a bit of Hizashi at his worst.

“HAPPY PRIDE MONTH, BITCHES!”

Midoriya screamed, startled. Bakugo started cursing. Todoroki hiccuped.

Aizawa sighed, because even with his support, he didn’t want Kaminari going completely berserker with this. He did have a class to teach, after all. With a sideways glare, he reminded the blond of this.

Kaminari picked it up immediately, intimately familiar with the energy a teacher gave off when they wanted him to stop goofing around.

“Okay, listen up gays! I mean guys!”

‘ You support him. You have to show your support. He’s been very kind, setting this up. Let him have this ’

“Kaminari… happy as you are for the… festivities, you can’t just burst in and-”

“Actually, I can!” Kaminari cutted Iida off, not losing his energy, dropping both bags over Aizawa’s desk. The contents immediately spilled out, pins, bracelets and other accessories, all in different pride flag patterns. It was like a a very gay unicorn on crack had puked over his pristine workspace. “Both sensei and the principal gave me permission!”

“To give out the stuff, Kaminari”, he feels obligated to remind him, voice as tired as he felt. “Not to make a performance out of it.”

“It’s Pride Month, sensei, I’m allowed to be a bit extra.”

“Oui, this month truly favors us glamorous people”, nodded Aoyama, eyeing the pins with interest. “Are those…?”

“Yeah, I was getting to that! But first things first, for those who don’t know, I’m bi! This is me coming out, and anyone who has a problem with that can catch these hands and detention; sensei said no homophobia in the classroom.”

He had, in fact, said that, but he didn’t truly believe any of his students would have an issue with Kaminari’s -or anyone’s, for that matter- preferences.

And as expected, from all over the room came encouragement and reassurances, all his kids almost tripping over themselves to show their support and care for their brave classmate. And Kaminari, who for all his bravado had actually admitted to being a little nervous, seemed to finally relax a little, shoulders not as tense and energy toned down without his maniac nerves backing it up.

“Well, thanks guys! That was scary, but I didn’t want to hide that part of me. And honestly, we had a shit year; we had to deal with stuff way above our paygrade and our age.”

“This sounds suspiciously well said, Dunce face.”

“I practiced in front of the mirror, dipshit. Now, shush. As I was saying, we were so busy lately, going from world-ending crisis to world-ending crisis, that we didn’t have the time for normal, teenage drama. And I know coming out shouldn’t be as scary in the grand scheme of things as, like, fighting the League of Villains, but to me it was pretty fucking terrifying for a second there.”

“You knew we’d support you, though”, jumped in Sero, voice soft, eyes kind and unwavering on his best friend. “There’s no way we would reject you just because of who you like.”

God, these kids. Aizawa was so fucking proud.

“I know that, in my head, but… anxiety is a bitch.”

Uraraka snorted, sharing a look with Yaoyorozu. “Amen to that.”

“Same.”

“Bro, so true.”

“And, well… I was thinking that maybe it wasn’t just me who wanted to lose some weight off my shoulders. Like, keeping it hidden was hurting me a little, and maybe I wasn’t the only one. So… I thought, if I come out, I could be like a canary in a coal mine, you know? Show everyone that it's safe and shit, so if anyone else wants to come out too, they won’t have the anxiety of the unknown.”

Some hesitant smiles bloomed in the faces of the young future heroes, but no one seemed to want to step out first. Aizawa could see some tension returning to Kaminari’s shoulders; of course, he had warned the kid that the rest of the class might not be ready to open up like that to the rest, or feel the need to. He might be the only… how had Kamianri put it? The only fruity student; unlikely (Aizawa had bets going on with the other teachers, he knew he wasn’t alone in his suspicions, and his gaydar fucking blasted every morning with rollcall), but possible. Still, it would be a little anticlimactic, if all of Kaminari’s careful preparation (speaking with Midnight, hours and hours of researching papers, deep diving in different websites) to make sure his pins and bracelets covered most, if not all, the different kinds of sexualities or gender identities, was for nothing.

But, obviously, he wasn’t the only one to notice Denki’s strained smile; with an angry huff, Bakugo stood from his seat and stomped his way to Aizawa’s desk, snatching a gay flag pin from among the pile.

“Tch. Like I need you to be my stupid safety canary, Pikachu. If I didn’t say shit before, it’s cause it’s no one’s fucking business but mine, not because I’m scared. Fuck off.”

Kirishima, predictably, shouted something about how manly the entire situation was, and almost jumped out of his seat to grab a pin of his own. And on his heels, most of the class followed suit.

Midoriya, with a pan pride pin, to add to his already struggling backpack. Yaoyorozu and Jirou, doing their best to avoid each other's eyes, picking lesbian bracelets. Uraraka and Ashido, with bi flags stickers that Aizawa could already imagine stuck to their dorm rooms' doors. Todoroki, confused as ever, picked a rainbow pin because 'all the options overwhelmed him and he wanted to cover all his bases' (which made half the class perk at attention, because apparently fucking everyone had at least a little crush on that boy). Tokoyami getting himself a nice ace bracelet. Hagakure and Ojiro, not bothering to get up from their seats, hollering for Shoji to throw them a pair of 'I'm rolling with the LGBT' ally pins.

Aizawa, back turned to the class as he wrote the day's subject on the blackboard, smiled. His students were so brave- in and out of the field.

God, was he proud of the little fucks.

As he looked back into the mayhem that was his students picking stuff and commenting on each other (reassurances, or some light hearted jabs) he caught a lone figure shrinking in the background. Silent, almost looming if it weren't for the hunched shoulders and wide eyes.

Shinso.

Blinking was the only outwardly sign of surprise Aizawa allowed himself to show. It was just… unexpected. 

Even if his protegee wasn't ready to come out (because Aizawa knew there was something there- the looks the mind controller often bestowed upon a certain loud blonde weren't subtle nor sparse), this kind of reaction… Pure joy and hope, while staring at Kaminari. Relief, at his classmates' reaction to their impromptu pride parade. Confusion, surprise and doubt, when all those emotions were processed. And… panic.

Oh. Ohhhh. Maybe it wasn't that Shinso wasn't ready yet. Maybe he had simply not realized.

Was Aizawa getting a first row seat to his star student's gay panic slash awakening? Apparently so. It was both hilarious and slightly concerning.

Should he intervene? Approach him? Something…?

Still a little unsure but wanting to help, he took an aborted step towards the purple haired boy, who startled like a cat, eyes jumping at Aizawa and then around the room, as if looking for an escape. Probably not done processing his own epiphany, and even less willing to talk to his mentor about it.

But before Aizawa could decide on the best course of action (whether to approach regardless and offer his support, or let him be and gay-panic in peace), three things happened in quick succesion: Shinso muttered something under his breath, Ojiro’s tail springed up and then moved side to side in some weird and -probably- specific pattern, and Aoyama decided to…

“Prepare to be YASSIFIED!!!!”

…cover the entire room in rainbow glitter.

Once again, he was reminded of why he kept a flask under his desk. The urge to reach for it was suddenly almost unbearably strong.

Sadly, he did have a reputation to keep, so he was reluctantly grateful for the enraged and delighted screams his class erupted in at the impromptu glitter bath they’d been subjected to; it kept his own despairing sigh unheard.

“Aoyama-kun!”

“Ohhh, sick!”

“YOU BASTARD!”

“I didn’t know your quirk could do this, Aoyama-kun… This is very interesting…”

“This is highly inappropriate!”

“DUDE, YES! Can you make the glitter be in the Bi colors?”

“...why. Just. Why?”

After the resulting chaos, busy with the task of having the students clean up their workspaces enough for class to finally start, he almost forgot about the Shinso gay-panic thing, until the bell rang and he caught sight of his favorite student sprinting out of the classroom.

Struck by indecision once more, Aizawa briefly considered following- but then, just before completely exiting the premises, the mind controller looked over his shoulder and hissed something (“ luciérnaga ”? What the…?) to his closest classmate… and then Sero was right in front of him, blocking his sight of the retreating boy and demanding his attention with questions about the lesson.

Well… Shinso would have to wait for the time being. Maybe it was for the best- the kid probably needed time to process, and he’d approach his mentor, if he considered it necessary, in his own time. That was, if he even wanted to talk with Aizawa about that in the first place.

Dreaming of his flask again, the underground hero devoted his attention to Sero’s questions- and wondered, distractedly, if it was him who taught Shinso how to say “lightning bug” in spanish.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Aizawa wasn’t okay with the current situation. He had actually argued with Nezu about it, spent a good three hours going over his points, even made a whole powerpoint presentation to help his case- feeling a little like Kaminari probably had when he asked for permission for his pride-pin distribution of two weeks ago.

He had been denied, of course, seeing as the situation was like… this. But he had tried, and done his best at that. He thinks that should count for something, right? And so, he’d like for the record to state that he was as innocent in this situation as anyone could be.

The students obviously didn’t agree, seeing as they were taking turns giving him the stink eye for the last fifty minutes now. 

It was okay, though, they could be angry at him- he was angry at himself as well. Even though, as stated, he had tried his best to avoid this worst-case scenario, he hadn’t succeeded. And after having failed them so many times, being helpless when they needed him strong enough to offer protection, unable to save these kids that had slowly but steadily become his … He wasn’t thinking very highly of himself and his own abilities right now.

“... and that’s the best way to avoid an enemy who is significantly larger and stronger than you. To demonstrate, I…”

Aizawa coughed discreetly into his scarf. Standing closest to him, Sato blinked and then turned to the front of the gym, hand raised.

“...yes?”

“Endeavor, sir, I’m sorry, but could you explain again? I didn’t quite get it…”

A tired sigh followed, but the flame hero nodded and re-started his explanation- for the fifth time in a row.

As infuriating as it was, this was the best diversion he could come up with. Even if Nezu would most likely see right through it, he couldn’t actually protest to his students asking their special guest questions. And it wasn’t like he had directly told them to distract Endeavor to keep him from making the physical demonstrations that he was clearly itching for, judging by the way his eyes ever so often strayed towards his son; he merely suggested that they took advantage of their very prestigious volunteer to clear up any doubts they might have… repeatedly.

And boy had they understood the assignment. Endeavor couldn’t even get close to finishing the theory side of his lesson plan for the day without a hand springing up, and a doe-eyed teen sweetly going “ I’m so sorry for interrupting again, but I didn’t really understand… ”.

It wasn’t a secret nor a proudly voiced statement but- they all knew, or at least suspected, about the ugly truth behind the perfect facade of the Todoroki household. And not because Shouto had told them; in fact, he avoided even breathing in a room where his father was being discussed, never mind  voicing his own thoughts on the matter. But still- steadily, slowly- they had all made their own deductions; and the fact that they all matched up was glaringly damning. 

Embarrassingly enough, Aizawa had probably been among the last to come to the realization that their new number one hero wasn’t as heroic as the Hero Commission wanted them to believe. Maybe because he didn’t live with the kids and was thus less exposed to the little things, or perhaps it was due to the old-school doctrine of never doubting their top ten. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t an excuse for how long it took him to notice Shouto’s little flinches when certain matters (like abuse victims’ care or CPS procedures) were being discussed, or Midoriya’s blatant disdain for one of the heroes he used to revere, or Yaoyorozu’s concerned frown when home visits were offered to the students.

And then, after he caught on… he had still done nothing. Because the authorities refused to open a case against their first line of defense against villains. Because the Hero Commission had sent a smiling representative to chirpily inform Aizawa of the danger his teaching license would be in, if he continued on that track. But mostly, because Todoroki had cornered him one afternoon and asked him to stop.

“I’m safe now, on school grounds- and I don’t think the media backlash for bringing this up to the public would be worth it. Maybe, in the past… but not now. Please, sensei.”

It had burned him inside out and he’d hated every second of it- but he had nodded his head, arms tight around Shouto, voice caught in his throat as shame and helplessness scraped him raw. And he had done nothing, besides come up with excuses to keep Todoroki on campus during holidays.

And then, Endeavor had apparently had enough of his attempts to gatekeep him from his son, and had gone above his head to offer Nedzu his services as a teaching guest for the day. Presumably, if Midoriya’s mutterings held any truth (and they usually did) to have an excuse for sparing with Shouto and gauging his progress first hand, never mind that said teen wanted nothing more than to be as far away from him as geographically possible.

So yeah, the kids could be as upset with him as they liked; he had failed to protect their dear classmate and friend by allowing the presence of his tormentor within what would have otherwise counted as a safe haven for him. But they had still followed his carefully worded instructions to the letter, and the inevitable father-son match was being seemingly endlessly derailed.

God. These kids . He was so goddamn proud.

But of course, all good things must come to an end, and their strategy wasn’t really viable long term. After the one hour mark, Endeavor apparently had enough with the delay and stopped any further inquiries with a short “ I’ll answer after the demonstration ”. Their time was clearly up, and they all knew it.

“Shouto. Come here, you’ll help me demonstrate.”

…Fuck.

Standing by the back of the gym, Aizawa had a perfect view of all his students’ backs. Not a single one was relaxed, shoulders tense, fists clenched, some even trembling in their shoes. Clearly ready for a fight. Some (Midoriya’s cackling green-lightning, Bakugo’s popping explosions, Denki’s static in the air, bits of debris hovering just slightly by Uraraka’s feet…) more than others.

Not Todoroki, though. He was loose-limbed, shoulders at ease, hands-in-pockets kinda calm. Almost as if he hadn’t heard his past (hopefully past, it better be past or Aizawa was throwing hands, threat of jail or not… ) abuser commanding him to step up and probably relieve his trauma in front of an audience.

Was he dissociating? Or just too resigned to truly feel the fear? 

In either case, he wasn’t moving. From the back of the group, Aizawa couldn’t see his face, and was suddenly struck with the thought that maybe, the young ice-fire wielder was having a silent panic attack- but no, he wouldn’t be so relaxed. And he was boxed in between Midoriya and Bakugo; one of them was bound to go feral and attack with no regard for possible consequences, if that was the case. His students were very reactive when it came to each other’s suffering.

“Shouto! Didn’t you hear me?”

“...”

“Shouto!”

“I heard you, old man. Don’t go all Katy Perry on me.”

…

…

…

Katy who? What in all hells was the kid on about?

At least, Endeavor looked just as confused- for a whole ass minute. Then, he seemed to decide to let that particular bit slide, and marched towards Shouto with the determination of a man sure in his ability to drag his son away from the protective bubble of his classmates.

Idiot. Had no one told him class 1-A was full of bitters?

Still, biting feral children or not, Aizawa’s rol had been carefully outlined by Nezu; unless expressly stated as a threat, he was not to interrupt the lesson, and that included making his children obey any commands given to them in the spirit of being taught a necessary skill.

So, resigned to his own fate and helplessness, Aizawa straightened from his slouch and approached the front of the group-  just in time to hear a very high pitched scream…

…And witness Endeavor’s face violently turning to the side, as a purple glove smacked the fuck out of him. The sound of skin being hit echoed into the otherwise empty gym, damning and petrifying.

Someone had bitch slapped the number one hero.

Correction; one of his students had bitch slapped the number one hero .

…Oh God, he was proud. So fucking proud. He also wanted to murder them.

Thankfully, Endeavor seemed just as surprised, so he didn’t immediately react to the sudden attack. Which gave Aizawa enough time to approach the little circle that had formed around him (and Todoroki, and his apparent bodyguards for the day, Midoriya and Bakugo, still firmly standing on either side of him), and assess the situation.

Hagakure was standing right in front of Shouto, her purple gloves clenched into fists and over her chest, pressed firmly into her gym uniform. She seemed to be shaking -from rage or distress, who’s to say-, but her posture (or what could be deduced about it, from her clothes’ standing) was firm and resolute.

One of his students had bitch slapped the number one hero, and she wasn’t scared at all. She either had too much faith in the Pro Hero and his integrity (highly unlikely), or in her classmates’ ride or die disposition (and the chances of them backing her up if a fight broke loose), to be that calm after what she had just done.

(That, or she just felt safe since Aizawa was in the room with them, but he couldn’t think too much about that or he’d start feeling emotions)

“Hagakure…” he started, carefully, one eye on the Pro hero and hand ready to grab for his scarf if the situation called for it.

He was about to scold her. Piece of shit or not, the man was a Pro, the Hero Commission's current darling, and she could get in serious trouble for her actions. But before he could even begin to decide how to tell her off without even indirectly congratulating her on doing what everyone in the room was itching for, she yelled something that he hadn’t expected to ever hear from his class, specially not since Mineta was expelled:

“He’s a pervert! He was staring at my chest!”

A pregnant pause followed. Endeavor blinked twice. Todoroki turned his head to the side in what could be interpreted as shame for his father’s misconduct, but was clearly an attempt to smother his laugh on Bakugo’s shoulder.

Aizawa wondered what the fuck he’d done in a past life to have to go through all this shit.

“...Say what now?”

“He. Was. Staring. At. My. Chest!” Hagakure doubled down, apparently deciding this was the hill she was willing to die on. Her hands unclenched as her palms covered the border of her shirt, as if protecting the invisible skin underneath from wandering eyes. “And he was walking towards me with his hand outstretched! I’m a teen, and he was trying to touch me!”

The accusation brought Endeavor back to this plane of existence. His cheek, already reddening from the slap (his student hadn’t skimped on the strength, just as he taught them; atta girl), flushed harder as an enraged expression overtook his surprised one.

“I was not! I was reaching for my son, behind you! I didn’t even see you there! This is completely inappropriate, and your actions are a shame to this school and to hero society!”

That was laying it on a little too thick, Aizawa thought. Also, no one shamed his kids, except him. He opened his mouth, ready to join the fray and do his best to defend today’s problem child, but he shouldn’t have bothered; say problem child could protect herself just fine, apparently.

“Oh, so slapping a man in self defense is more shameful than preying over a young woman? This is victim blaming!”

Shouto started to cough into his fist. It sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. He still made no move to get out from behind Hagakure’s back. And then Jirou just appeared, out of literally nowhere, standing shoulder-to-invisible-shoulder with her classmate, broadening the protective barrier between Todoroki and his father.

“This is incredible, Mr Endeavor! How dare you?”

Then the class’ vice-rep, on Hagakure’s other side- “I can’t believe this! Wait until my parents hear about this, the Yaoyorozu Family won’t associate further with someone so vile!”

The blatant, shameless name drop was what probably tipped the impromptu argument in the girls’ favor, because he could see actual nerves settling in behind the Hero’s enraged eyes.

Aizawa felt like he was in the twilight zone. Or like he’d eaten one of Sero and Sato’s brownies (that he wasn’t supposed to know about, nor allow) at four twenty am.

“This is all a misunderstanding, ladies. I was merely reaching for my son.”

Uraraka (who had been near the back of the group just five seconds ago- when had she gotten there, and so fast, too? ) scoffed, crossed arms showing off her impressive biceps. It was a blatant treath; not that Endeavor would recognize it as such. “Ugh, men. Always making excuses!”

Aizawa had the strangest urge to get some popcorn. He was quick to dismiss it; not because it would be inappropriate, but because it would require him to take his attention off the scene.

“I wasn’t! Why would I even want to touch her, I can’t even see her body!”

Something feral and sharp shone in the girls’ eyes, and suddenly he understood their play, the trap they had been oh so carefully weaving, like the fates with their golden string. 

A trap Endeavor had walked straight into.

Hagakure started sobbing . Big, heaving sobs, body moving with the motions as they seemingly went straight through her, hands going to where her face probably was, as if trying to catch stray tears. 

The girls' fake venomous glares (and Aizawa knew they were fake; all too familiar with the real ones, usually displayed during sparring matches) sharpened. Endeavor took a half step back. 

Todoroki was trembling in his effort to keep his chuckles in. Midoriya had laid a comforting hand on his forearm, even as he himself had to bite his lip almost to its breaking point to control himself.

"I'm only invisible because of my quirk!" She screamed between sobs. "This is quirk-ist behavior! Just because you can't see me doesn't mean I don't matter!"

Now, he took a full step away. He started to look around, bravado lost to confusion, and nervously shifted in place when the rest of the students started to mumble among themselves and pointing at him.

This felt like playground bullying. They were bullying the number one hero. It was magnificent.

Should he intervene?

Movement on his right caught his attention, and he barely turned, just enough to see Koda's opened palm offering him a Snickers bar.

…Nah. He could watch a little longer.

Taking the bar, he turned back to the evolving shit show.

"No, no… I'm sure you're a very pretty young lady, under your quirk…"

"Are you saying her beauty is all that matters?!" Jumped in Jirou, no mercy whatsoever. “And that her quirk nullifies it?!”

"He is objectifying me!" Hagakure doubled down, crying louder, throwing her arms around Tsuyu as if seeking emotional support. The sounds of it almost covered Todoroki's barely-there wheezes.

On Yaoyorozu's other side, Mina tutted, disapproving. She held her phone like one might a loaded weapon, and considering the strong presence she had in social media and the power she held in there, it might as well be.

"I can’t believe this! The Hero that should be saving us, acting like this. Don’t worry, queen, I’ll get ‘Cancel Endeavor’ trending faster than you can say ‘objectifying asshole’, and you’ll be avenged. Hashtag “AllMightWouldNever” is already taking off.”

God worked fast, but Mina’s followers were faster; from where he was, with a perfect view of her unlocked phone, Aizawa could already see her post having a retweet number in the thousands.

“No! I wasn’t-”

Girl on fire by Alicia Keys started blasting, making everyone quiet down. Endeavor, face flaming from shame instead of his mustache for once, hastily dug through his clothes and fished out his phone.

"Shouto! You still haven't told me how to change that awful ringtone!" The man shouted, probably glad for the opportunity to change the subject. Even if it was out of the pan and into boiling water.

His son, after a truly herculean effort to rein himself in, shrugged at his panicked, embarrassed father. He looked like he was having the time of his life, and the brilliant smile on his face to commemorate it was blinding; half his class (the half not currently dragging the Number one Hero's name through the mud) seemed in a trance as they watched him.

Should he give them all the talk about the dangers of crushing on a friend, and how it could lead to being compromised during a mission…? Oh god, just the idea sent chills through his back. Better to leave that to Mic.

"And I won't. You should pick that up, it might be important."

It was; just like he could still see Mina's screen (showcasing the ever growing number of retweets), Endeavor's phone was also close enough that he could identify the contact calling as one of the Hero Commission's representatives. Probably, if he had to make a guess, one that was wondering where all the sudden bad press concerning their number one was coming from.

Forget a speed quirk, Ashido's followers were truly the fastest people on earth.

Teenagers scared the shit out of him, sometimes.

And just like that, Endeavor had to excuse himself to run back to his agency for an emergency press conference to address all the negative hashtags trending with his name on them, thus prematurely ending the training session. Aizawa had the option to make them spar, or maybe give an impromptu lesson on why publicity was vital to a hero, but he decided against it and gave them a free period. 

They had already shown awesome teamwork, perfect acting skills and commendable use of their social media presence. They deserved a rest.

(He also needed the free hour to lock himself in a bathroom to give in and laugh himself to tears)

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Despite his better efforts, Aizawa was no closer to unraveling 1A’s mystery than he had been when he first noticed their strange behavior. He wasn’t giving up, of course he wasn’t, he owed to those kids at least that much effort, but it seemed fruitless so far.

So at this point, he was desperate enough to accept help; it didn’t mean that he was happy that it came from Midnight, of all people. Not even finally putting the worries that kept him awake at night to rest was comforting enough to be worth the endless teasing she would subjet him to.

It happened like this; a wednesday morning, in the teacher’s lounge, grading papers while distractedly ranting to Hizashi. The kids were out on a field trip with All Might (meaning Aizawa had his phone set to the highest volume and close at all times, in case something went inevitably south), so he was free to ponder the situation without their suspiciously perceptive eyes on him, always ready to jump and create some distraction in the form of ungodly mayhem.

“...and I just don’t get it. There’s no pattern to their chaos, no method to their madness. Everything would be normal, and then someone just starts speaking weird or using very out of context words, and then… pandemonium. Explosions, fights, injuries, glitter . The glitter is the worst, it takes forever to clean up. And there’s nothing connecting those words together, either, so it can’t be some secret code that I can crack… Someone would be upset, or look uncomfortable, or something of the sort, and then-”

“Awww, Shouta! I didn’t know your kids were practicing safe-wording! That’s adorable, what the hell!”

Nemuri’s excited scream, just behind his ear, scared the living shit out of him. He jumps in place, almost falling off his sleeping bag from it, barely catching himself in time, and turns around to glare at her.

“A warning would be appreciated next time. And please don’t talk about my students and your BDSM things in the same sentence, it creeps me out.”

Taking an uninvited seat on the couch across from him, she rolls her eyes at his dramatics. Whatever, she's not a mother of twenty, what does she know about the Trauma of perceiving kids as entities capable of romance and stuff like that; she doesn't get to judge Aizawa for being weirded out. 

Mic, sharing the loveseat with Aizawa (who was doubly cozy thanks to his sleeping bag), just lowers the papers he's grading to look between them, just as curious but not nearly as disgusted.

“Don’t be stupid, Eraser, it doesn’t suit you. Safe-wording doesn’t necessarily have to involve BDSM, you know! And it sounds to me like that’s exactly what your little ducklings are doing. Adorable, I say. Babies' first time safewording! And it seems like they are doing it correctly, too!”

Tired, annoyed and feeling just a smidge of dread, Aizawa makes the executive decision to drop his pen and make himself comfortable in the bag. He was already regretting his next question, but if she thought she knew what the kids were up to…

“What do you mean?”

“...Do you need me to use small words?”

“Please.”

“Well… You said they used words they rarely utilize in normal conversation, right?”

“...yes?”

“And that, shortly after one of them does, the others immediately react in some way, no question asked, no hesitation?”

“...Yes.”

"And they work together to make the one who spoke comfortable, remove what was causing them distress from the equation, distract you or things like that?"

"Yes."

“Well, sweetie, that’s what safewording is ; an indication that the situation you’re in is uncomfortable, or putting you in some type of distress, and that you need it to stop. A way for your partner, or in this case friends, to know to give you help asap. I don’t know the context for those moments, but it feels like your kids have their own safe system that they are implementing, and from the looks of it, it’s a successful one, too. Even some adults don’t understand the importance of respecting and abiding by a safeword; the fact that these kids do and can is already amazing. Your kids are something else, Eraser. You should be proud.”

That… that was a lot to process, actually. But suddenly, abruptly, it all made sense. Ashido’s girl emergency, Iida’s brother being brought up, Shinso’s gay panic and need for alone time to process, Todoroki being forced into a room with his abuser… 

And all the little times that followed, too. 

Like that day when Midoriya seemed too tired to even stand. He’d been up late, Aizawa learned later from a sheepish Iida, having some sort of existential crisis over his worth, which… Therapy. These kids need so much therapy. And then, suddenly, while everyone was packing up in order to go to the next class (English with Mic, if he remembers correctly), the calm and quiet is broken by said boy muttering the dirtiest, foulest curse word to ever exist (a shocking development, coming from his shyest student), which somehow resulted in Uraraka having a convenient ‘quirk accident’, making all the desk, chairs and backpacks float around (some out of the window). It all created a half hour long mayhem that gave his Problem Child™ enough time for a power nap. 

Or the time his students planned, organized and executed an almost successful breakout, trying to escape the dorms at two am to buy red hair dye of all things (he’d been tempted to give them extra credit, both by the genius logistic planning and sheer balls ). And when they got caught, just before crossing the property limits, a sleep deprived Bakugo had muttered something along the lines of ‘Kirishima said fire truck , we couldn’t just ignore it…’ , like that explained or justified his actions. Not to mention, the fact that Hagakure had managed to sneak out while he was yelling at her classmates, arriving only by the end of his lecture, red dye at hand.

And how could he forget when Koda and Jirou had to leave a school assembly early, both noise-sensitive kids being overwhelmed by the mess of half the school reunited in the same spot. And Aizawa had seen them signing and muttering something to Shoji and Yaoyorozu respectively, before they stealthily helped them sneak out (and let it be said, he had allowed it JUST because those were four of his least problematic children, and could be trusted to behave while playing hooky). 

Or, more recently, when someone from another class had sneered some kind of slur at an unsuspecting Kaminari during lunchtime, nasty glare directed at his bi bracelet. The only thing that could stop Bakugo and Shinso (an unlikely combination if he ever saw one)  from completely murdering the guy and just moderatly maim him was when said blond had whined some english word that he couldn’t quiet catch (from where he was standing, a ways back, watching the idiot brat get his just desserts after daring to go after one of his kids). 

Or…

Wow. There were truly too many ‘or’ moments, huh.

Now that he gives those separate, seemingly unconnected incidents proper thought, it seems so obvious. All the dread, all the hairs standing out on his arms and the cold breeze he swore he could feel on his nape whenever the kids exchanged those private looks, or started speaking nonsense, or randomly brought hell on earth for what seemed to be no reason… The cause, the pattern he’d been desperately looking for, the understanding of this new side of his kids that had, admittedly, scared him shitless (because if they are acting weird, something is going on; and if no one approaches him about it, is he doing a bad job? Are they in danger? How can he even help…?), had finally been revealed. 

He had his answer. One that both filled him with a rush of warm affection, and that broke his heart a bit. Because they were working together, looking out for each other; but just the fact that they had to, that he wasn’t strong enough, quick enough, good enough to keep them safe and happy at all times, to be the one they could go to with these things… It made him feel sick.

In the end, the warmth won. He looked down at the coffee table, a small smile turning the corners of his lips up a bit, not really seeing the papers anymore; just envisioning the happy, satisfied, prideful expressions on the kids whenever one of their classmates called for help and they answered.

“I am. So, so, so proud of them.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The kids liked to joke, whenever Aizawa caught wind of something they should have been able to keep a secret, that there was a traitor among their ranks. A tasteless joke, in his opinion, especially after the scare they got earlier in the year, when there was truly a suspicion of some mole in the school. Nevertheless, he never stopped the kids from speculating, from side-eyeing each other hard whenever Aizawa brought down swift punishment for a deed they thought was well hidden, or the way they would  sing song ‘among us, among us’ whenever one of them was acting, quote, ‘sus’. Mainly because he liked keeping them on their toes, in perpetual fear that he was going to find out about whatever new scheme they tried to pull, but also because they weren’t exactly wrong.

“You want me to snitch? Already? I told you about the Alpaca plan last week, they’re gonna get suspicious if you catch them red handed again so soon.”

“You give them too much credit. They’d never suspect you.”

From his place on the other side of the table in their favorite cat cafe, his inside-man raised an eyebrow in such a perfect arch that it had to be practiced.

“... when did you learn to do that?”

“What? Oh, you mean the brat tamer? Just recently, I had this bet with ‘shima and Sero…”

“...excuse me?”

“Don’t worry about it. You were asking me to be a nark again?”

Deciding the best thing for his own mental health was to let that bit go, he re-focused on the matter at hand.

“I already know what’s going on here, so it’s not like you’ll be completely selling your classmates out. I just need some context for it. Also, I’ll pay you in coffee.”

“...from your secret, not fit for human consumption stash?”

“If the info is good, then yes.”

“...”

“...”

“...Okay, whatever, I’m in. What do you want to know?”

“ ‘Luciernaga’ , Shinso? Really?”

That stopped the teen cold, hand frozen over his cup where he had it, halfway through his mouth. A slow blush started to climb up his neck.

“...Ah.”

“I mean, if you wanted to use Lightning Bug as a safeword, why not in japanese? Why use the Spanish version?”

“...”

“...”

“...Do you want the info or not?”

“Enlighten me. When did you kids even get this idea?”

With a weary sigh, still a little embarrassed, Shinso carefully petted the cat in his lap and started to explain.

The idea had originally come from Kaminari, of all people. Which, in 1-A terms, meant it had to be analized and considered with utmost care, since it was not going to be dumb-proof, and anything that wasn’t dump-proof could very easily turn into fucking dissaster for them, with their luck. But, even if his wording had left much to be desired, no one could deny the surprisingly genius of it (and how fitting, that every Kaminari-plan was always like that).

It had happened one evening, when by some miracle they were all together in the common room. Some of them working on homework, some messing around, most of them just chilling with their phones, vibing in the same space, as traumatized, slightly co-dependent children tend to do. But still, having all of them in the same room was a wonder, especially since no one was screaming, bickering nor throwing punches. It was as if, tired after a week of exams, they had just collectively decided to recharge together, keeping the drama to a minimum, for however long it would last.

And then, Midoriya’s usual muttering had caught Kaminari’s attention.

“You know, Deku, that’s not a bad idea at all!”

Green eyes blinked up, startled. Sitting in the floor by the couch, back against Todoroki’s legs as they, Iida and Uraraka worked on some homework, he had to look up to make eye contact with the blond, who had been passing by their spot on his way to Bakugo’s ‘improvised tutoring’ table.

“Hu- huh? What do you mean?”

“The thing you were just talking about!”

“Midoriya speaks an average of 350 words per minute, Kaminari”, the ice and fire user dwelled, turning a page in his book. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“How do you even know…? Never mind. He was saying something about today, when he had to go take a dump-”

“I said GO TO THE BATHROOM, not that!”

“-and Aizawa told him no, and he was having a lot of trouble keeping it in-”

“I didn’t say…! I was just uncomfortable, and-!”

“- but you know sensei, and he stayed firm in not letting anyone out during that lecture no matter what, so Mido here had a pretty rough time. And how he wished there was a way to, like, push an emergency button for critical situations like that and get a freebie.”

“That was not my wording at all, Kaminari-kun.”

“I paraphrased.”

From his table, done pretending he wasn’t eavesdropping, Bakugo grunted.

“Who cares if the nerd couldn’t take a dump and is now constipated. That’s none of your business. Now come here or I’m not tutoring you anymore, dunce face.”

“But it is our business!”

Kirishima, taking any and all chances to procrastinate, dropped his pencil (ignoring Bakugo’s glare) and crossed his arms over the table, chin resting over them.

“How so?”

Now on a roll, aware of the attention of every single one of his classmates, Kaminari opened his arms in an encompassing gesture.

“We are a team, man. One’s problems are the other’s, too! And, well, I mean… We all have our code words for battle, like formations and special attacks and stuff. And we all know how important it is, to obey one when we hear it, even out of combat. Like, if we were in the mall and Sero yelled ‘code s-d-r one-oh-one’ I would drop to the floor faster than he can finish the sentence, you know. ‘cause I know he wouldn’t use it unless it was important, and-”

Walking up to him, two coffees in hand, Shinso carefully elbowed him. 

“Your point?”

“I mean, why can’t we have that, but for every day bullshit?”

Tsuyu hummed, finger poised over her lips in thought.

“But those work because they are not everyday stuff. We get on high alert when we hear them…”

“Yeah, so they could be special words that we don’t use regularly, but that lets everyone else know we need help! Like… Like a safeword!”

Cuddled up to Momo on the loveseat, Jirou squinted at him.

“Denki…”

“No, not like that! Not in the kinky way! I meant, like… Like…”

Sensing the blond getting tangled up in his own explanation, Shinso passed the cups to Mina and threw an arm over his shoulders.

“Take your time. We are listening.”

“...Thanks, ‘toshi”, he smiled. Then, gasping, “See?! Just like this! I was a little overwhelmed, and Shinso knew and helped me, because he knows me so well. But imagine I’m in the hallway with, like… Todoroki? He sucks at picking up social cues, right?”

“I do, yes.”

“He wouldn't know I needed help! But if each one of us has, like, a special word, I could say mine and he would know something was wrong. Maybe he wouldn't know what , exactly, but he’d be aware something was up, and he could help me get away from there to someplace where I could explain, or distract me, or go get Shinso or Kiri or Sero for me! Or like Mido, in class! Next time he needs to take a massive dump-”

“It was ONE time, and it WASN’T a massive-”

“- he could, I don’t know, say MightyPanties-”

“KAMINARI-KUN!”

“- or something equally off-pocket, and we’d know to create a distraction for him, or help convince Aizawa to let him go, or-!”

“That’s- actually, that’s not a bad idea?” muttered Sato, carrying a tray of muffins, to everyone’s delight. “I get super anxious when we’re doing some class exercise with 1-B, and it’d be nice to have a way to let someone know and have them cover me…”

“And for girl emergencies!” Hagakure jumped in, crashing side-ways into Uraraka, who didn’t even budge under her weight and just manhandled the invisible girl into her lap, sharing the chair. “I don’t care if the boys know, but I think I’d sprain something in my brain if I had to come up with a word to replace ‘ovary pain’ to say in front of All Might-sensei… not that I think he’d mind, but… Still, awkward.”

“Oh, and when we are jesting, but the joke stops being funny and we need the other person to stop?” added Tokoyami, “Sometimes I’m in the mood to be teased, but… there’s times when usually acceptable words just cut deeper, I’d much prefer silent companionship.”

Kaminari’s smile brightened even more, happy to have everyone seemingly on board. Even Bakugo seemed deep in thought.

“That’s it, then! Operation 1-A Safewords is a go!”

“...And that was it. Everyone chose a word, and we all learned each other’s. There was a spreadsheet and everything, very organized.”

Leaning back into his chair, Aizawa slowly exhaled.

And then, he smiled.

Those kids. God. He was so, so, so...

“I have another task for you, kid.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Hey, guys?”

“Hey!”

“Hello.”

“Hm? Oh, hey ‘Toshi, welcome back. How was dinner with sensei?”

“Oh, yeah, you had that thing today, didn’t you?”

“Did you give him a false lead to distract him from our plans? Or do you think…?”

“Oh, no, he doesn’t suspect anything about the breaking into the Hero Commission’s headquarters thing. We’ll get that dirt on Endeavor, don’t worry. Telling him about the Alpaca last week was a good call, he thinks our chaos-quota for the month is filled.”

“Great!”

“Cool.”

“Then, what is it?”

“There’s… a new word that we should add to the list.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, of course, dude! Who wants it? Is it for you?”

“No, someone else. And as for who… you’ll know, if he uses it.”

“Well.. okay then? I guess if you say so…”

“The list is always open, so that’s okay. We’ll add it.”

“Yeah, let me get my laptop, I’ll write it down on the shared document…”

“And I’ll send it to the group chat! What is it?”

“...Proud. The word is ‘Proud’.”