Work Text:
Call it an old habit, but Toshinori has the tendency to look for danger.
He still does now, but he's working on trying to share the responsibilities when he spots danger in the form of villains and other incidents. He tries to slow down and think ‘is there someone I can tell that will be able to handle this, as I am not the most capable of it anymore?’
He's working on it, but it's hard to break years of rushing into danger without hesitation, without thinking of ever sharing the responsibility of dealing with villains and saving lives. He used to be the most capable. He's working on remembering that he's not.
Not anymore.
Closer to a liability, in fact, now that he's lost his form and One for All and his health is hardly up to scratch. It's hard to deal with, harder to accept, but he's really doing his best — if just to make sure he does not cause worry to those that care for him.
It's a strange feeling, having people care so much for him, one he has yet to get used to.
It's new, but admittedly, it is not a feeling that he minds at all.
It’s just different. It’s different, now that the best way to help people is no longer to stop the villains — to stop the danger before it truly starts. Now, he can’t deal with these things himself.
Defeating villains and rushing into danger is no longer the best way Toshinori can save people. So, he finds that his focus starts to turn elsewhere.
The most important thing is that he can still help people, beyond just punching villains, and he's truly learned a lot about how to do so over his years. He’s learned how people look and act when they're scared, when they're tired, when they're desperate.
That focus, and that knowledge, turns into watching his students. He looks for the signs of frustration, anger, tiredness — signs he’s seen all too much of in the world, lately.
With his students, it's easier to see in Quirk training and battles, as this is the most familiar place for Toshinori as well. He understands the weight behind a punch, and the intention behind every kick. He understands what his students are fighting for, because he knows the language of a battle well.
He watches for the dangers like Tenya reserving himself in training, like he's scared to ever use that last remaining bit of energy in case something worse comes along. He watches for Kaminari's tendencies to act before he thinks, because he'd rather not stew in his own overwhelming thoughts, and push himself until he can't think at all. He watches for Momo, always pushing herself too far, disregarding the demands of her body.
He watches for that, especially, in a lot of his students.
He watches and learns the times that Shouto needs an encouraging push to work with his fire, or when he needs a day to just focus on his ice. He learns when it's a good day to motivate young Izuku and Bakugou to fight against each other, and when it's better to team them up.
He's getting better in the actual classroom, too, though it's a whole different kind of field. A battle he’s not used to, a language he is still delicately trying to learn.
Slowly, he learns there too. Learns when his students are overwhelmed, stressed, in pain. And he learns how to help them.
It's not just them, though.
Toshinori looks out for as many people as he can, and that includes all those within his reach. Includes his fellow faculty members and teachers and — tentatively, very newly called — friends.
That's a strange word for Toshinori, actually. He's always had people that support and help him. He has David. And Tsukauchi. They're friends, but people Toshinori doesn't get to visit that often.
It's strange for him to have more than just two friends. Now he has a few, in fact. So he's doing his very best to treat them right.
It means he watches and tries to learn about them, though progress is slow-going, as they have had plenty of years to learn how to hide parts of themselves.
So when Aizawa walks into the teacher's lounge during the lunch break, Toshinori doesn't immediately catch onto the fact that anything is wrong. He gives a greeting, and Aizawa grunts one back — not unkindly at all, as it's just his own typical way of acknowledging someone. If he minded Toshinori speaking, then he simply wouldn’t acknowledge him to begin with.
So nothing seems wrong at first. Aizawa takes a seat at his desk, and they're all rather busy with work, so Toshinori focuses right back on the worksheets he's creating. He's getting faster at them, and he rarely needs anyone to check them over for him these days.
He's not quite sure what makes him notice. But suddenly, he realises that Aizawa is not typing anything.
It's strange, as Aizawa is usually intent on working during lunch when he keeps his head down like he is now. Toshinori also manages to look up at the time to catch Yamada shooting a worried glance in Aizawa's direction, which only rings further alarm bells in the back of his mind.
Toshinori can't quite see from the angle of his desk, so he stands up and heads to the small kitchen area in the corner of the room, just meant for refreshments. He looks it over, deciding on something to drink, and subtly does his best to look over his shoulder to look at Aizawa.
Aizawa is hunched over on his desk, and has his head in his hands, fingers massaging out his temples. His computer screen is not on, even though he probably had the intention to work with it.
Usually, if he wanted a nap, he'd be in the corner with his sleeping bag. But something is clearly ailing him.
Toshinori's mouth twists, and he takes notes of the time. There's about twenty minutes left of the lunch break.
Before he can think better of it, he heads over to the side of the desks where Aizawa and Yamada are sitting.
"Ah, would either of you like a coffee? Or tea? I believe young Yaoyorozu gave us some more of her blend, actually..." He trails off, all too aware he's rambling a little — which, perhaps, is a habit picked up from Izuku.
Yamada's eyes linger worriedly over Aizawa, and then drifts to Toshinori. They share a look of understanding, which Aizawa misses. His fingers have stopped massaging at his temples, but he hasn't quite turned to look at Toshinori either.
"Yeah, I'd love one! I'm sure Aizawa will have one too, hey pal? Yeah, make that two for us. Thanks!" Yamada says brightly, though his tone doesn't quite match the expression he's giving Toshinori.
Toshinori nods and turns on his heels, walking back over to the tea set, and sets about brewing it all for them. The minutes pass, and Toshinori watches the time go anxiously.
Aizawa still has not typed anything, or even lifted his head from his fingertips.
He eventually walks back over and gently places down the mugs of tea in front of Aizawa and Yamada. This time, Aizawa lifts his head, and gives Toshinori a nod of appreciation as his fingers circle around the mug.
When Toshinori gets his first glimpse at Aizawa's face this close, he feels concerned. Aizawa is clearly prone to not sleeping well, but there's a different kind of darkness under his eyes that usually isn't there.
"Ah," Toshinori says, keeping his voice low. "Aizawa, are you feeling alright?"
"Mhm," Aizawa grunts, though his head dips a little. "I'll get through it."
Toshinori frowns at this. Those are words he used to say himself all too often, and they're words he's starting to understand he doesn't need to say. Not anymore, when there's so much support around him, people that will help.
Aizawa is one of them. Toshinori wishes to be the same.
"Get through what?" Toshinori prompts kindly, trying to keep his voice curious without the concern slipping through.
He doesn't think it quite works, but the corners of Aizawa's mouths lift in amusement, which Toshinori is glad for.
"I need to finish writing up these reports," Aizawa replies, which isn't really an answer to Toshinori's question. His hand gestures to the computer screen, and Toshinori shares another look with Yamada.
"I don't think that's going to happen in this break," Yamada points out.
Aizawa scowls at him.
"Aizawa," Toshinori tries again, because it's definitely not like Aizawa to be behind on his paperwork. Toshinori doesn't know how he does it, actually. "Are you sure everything is alright?"
"It's fine," Aizawa replies, fingertips pressing into his eyelids as he massages them out. "I just miscalculated the time I could dedicate to writing these out the past couple of nights."
Well that's definitely strange, and honestly brings up more questions than answers.
When Aizawa realises he's probably just going to be prodded more about things, rather than less, he sighs. "The kids have had some troubles at night. A bug going around. Nightmares. That kind of stuff."
Yamada whistles sympathetically. "That's a rough time. How long's that been going on for?"
Aizawa shrugs vaguely. "Few nights, nothing too bad."
"'Nothing too bad'," Yamada repeats, rolling his eyes for Toshinori to see. Then, he leans forward, like his gaze is saying watch this. "How long has it been since you’ve gotten any sleep?"
"I sleep," Aizawa scowls.
Get a load of this guy, Yamada seems to say to Toshinori with his expression. To Aizawa, he says: "Sure. When did you last?"
Toshinori has always thought of Yamada as a respectable hero, and a great teacher for the students. A good man.
He's always respected Yamada, but he's never quite feared him. Not until this moment, when Aizawa seems to weigh his options, and then seems to decide telling the truth is somehow the way to go.
Yamada must intimidate Aizawa to a certain extent, as he's decided lying isn't worth it. And anything that intimidates Aizawa screams danger to Toshinori.
"Two days ago," Aizawa replies, looking for all intents and purposes, like he means to pass this off casually.
"So you're telling me you haven't slept, not even napped, in two days?" Yamada provokes.
"I have not slept in two days, no," Aizawa replies, narrowing his eyes when he seems to realise he's stepped right where Yamada wants him.
Scary, scary man indeed.
Toshinori sucks in a sharp breath. It's really not advisable for any of them to ever be running on such little sleep, even though sometimes it is inevitable.
He makes a note in the back of his mind for future reference — that when the students are looking haggard and unwell, then it is time to check on Aizawa too.
"The last two periods are just Heroics, correct?" Toshinori asks, speaking before he can even think.
Because this is what he does — he wants to help. He wants to reach out to those that have helped lift him up in turn, and he wants to be able to do this much.
"They are," Aizawa replies, narrowing his eyes at Toshinori as it clicks for him. "No—"
"I can take the class," Toshinori says with a smile. "You can trust me to handle them alone now, right?"
And if Toshinori sounds a little pitiful, it's for a reason.
Aizawa lets out a long breath, realising the way that Toshinori has cornered him. Toshinori knows he's improved, and Aizawa has trusted him to teach alone for a couple of months now, even though he's never quite said it outright.
If Aizawa challenges him now, then he’s undercutting his own beliefs.
"I've already told them what the plans are," Aizawa says in rebuttal instead.
Toshinori shrugs. "Then pass me the lesson plan, and I'll stick to it. I promise, you can rely on me."
"Yeah, Sho!" Yamada encourages. "Let All Might do his thing, yeah?"
"I can't just leave the class," Aizawa frowns.
"Sure you can. They can handle themselves for a couple of periods with All Might," Yamada replies.
"What the hell am I meant to even do?"
"You head back to the dorms and you sleep, that's what. If you can't make it that far, then tuck up in the corner."
"I still have the reports."
"Nope," Yamada replies, snatching them right out from under Aizawa's nose. "You don't. They'll be finished by the time you wake up. Seriously, Sho, go and sleep. You'll worry the kids. And then the school will actually implode."
Aizawa looks at Toshinori, like he's expecting some empathy. "I can't just ask you to take over for my classes, that's unfair—"
"It's our class, actually," Toshinori cuts in. "And it's unfair for you to carry all the burdens on your own."
Aizawa's lips tilt up. "Says you."
"Exactly," Toshinori says, voice softer. "Says me."
Aizawa sighs.
"Thank you," he eventually says, staring down at the cup of tea he's been slowly slipping at. "I appreciate it. I know you'll handle them fine."
"I'll let you know how it all goes tomorrow," Toshinori reassures, because he knows it's hard to let go of control once you have a handle on it. "Rest, Aizawa."
Aizawa grumbles a bit more, but he takes his sleeping bag and goes right into the corner of the room, and he turns and rolls over right as the school bell goes off for the end of lunch.
Toshinori shares a satisfied, pleased smile with Yamada.
There's a lot that Toshinori can't do nowadays, not with his form. But this — helping his friends, his fellow associates, fellow heroes — this is something he will gladly do.