Chapter Text
It wasn’t a hard day. In truth, the fact that Midoriya even got to see a twenty-fourth year—much less have academic degrees—was amazing, considering everything that had come before, so a day just like any other was… a blessing, of a sort. Sadly, even the brightest minds and most cutting-edge Quirks hadn’t managed to make paperwork automated and still legible, so the teachers at U.A. High School were hard at work crunching numbers, chewing pencils, and parsing… unique turns of phrases. There wasn’t even a prickle on the back of the neck, a day so “mundane” it felt like it had to be a lie, it just had to, but no, no the world was as well as it had been the day before and likely the day after—the mandated therapy did wonders, but Dr. Nanako had made it very clear what to expect and Midoriya had eventually accepted that some things would just… take longer to heal.
The sigh that left the newly minted teacher’s lips wasn’t quite frustrated, but also admitted to having some of that in there as well. “Something to share with the class, Midoriya?” Intellectually, everyone from that fateful Class A knew their old teacher had a sarcastic streak long enough to circumnavigate the country, but Midoriya was certainly gaining a new perspective on it, working with him—and also that the rest of the staff at U.A. had at least the capacity for it, when they weren’t in class, and that the “office hazing” people had talked about was, at least here, good-natured but quite effervescent. “Oh, uh…” It only took the green-haired teacher a few moments—much better than as a student, if Midoriya would say so—before the words lined up and exited the mouth, “I mean, it’s nothing but… well…”
“My class was… rather a handful today.” Midoriya’s hand scratched nervously, eyes sheepishly meeting Aizawa’s. “I-I mean, it wasn’t something I couldn’t handle, just…” another sigh, “well it all started with…”
One week into the beginning of the year, by then they’d already been given their first rude awakening to the realities of the world, already been forced into the crucible of real, actual, deadly combat—hell Tsu had nearly DIED, they ALL could have died—and even though the Sports Festival was still two weeks away it still felt… a little unreal, perhaps? Teaching felt a little unreal, to be honest. The last of the class filed in—the situational awareness training wasn’t scheduled to begin in earnest until after the Festival, so the kids had time to feel like the rug was secure before it got ripped from under them—with Seat No. 17, Kinozuki Iwata; Quirk: Memento, NQR Designation: Mutant (Aberrantstupididiotswouldn’tveknownaQuirkifitihittheminthehead), UQCT Designation: E7.T1.M2., Description: Kinozuki’s Quirk manifests as the ability to manifest any recalled memory of his as a physical object, something his currently undiagnosed-
“Midoriya.”
The blush was obvious, there was no helping it, really.
It would never be said, even to Ochako or Shoto, but the USJ trip… was hard to do. It had been the first time back since, well… back then, and… and it was hard damnit! It felt like the walls were pressing in, like the last nine years hadn’t happened, like I was… I tried, I tried, to keep it in, to be strong for them, at least until I could go home and-and something but the minute I saw that fountain and the spot where Tomura almost killed us, where Aizawa-Sensei’s body lay, where Kurogiri’s portal first appeared, where All Might stood, fist raised and in so much pain I just, I couldn’t…
It took so much effort to remember where I was, when I was, that the argument between Matsubara (Quirk: Lightnin-) and Kota-chan got way further than I should have let it, they were practically in each other’s faces! It’s my fault, I’m the teacher, the adult, I’ve been in therapy for this for YEARS I SHOULD BE BETTER THAN THIS ALREADY why didn’t I think this could be a possibility? Why didn’t I prepare the ground beforehand? Why didn’t I-
“Young Midoriya…” The voice, tired and so filled with LOVE you didn’t need to be Himiko to hear it, the sound of Parent, of Home, of Dad, the hand on Midoriya’s shoulder almost wasn’t necessary, Toshi’s voice was enough. As Midoriya came back into the present, into the physical, the last holder of One For All felt something wet and slightly stingy flowing down scarred cheeks. Tears, desperate and raw.
“Let me drive you to Young Nanako’s office, I’ll schedule an emergency session. We’ll take care of you.”
“I…” Midoriya can’t even recognize the words coming out of their mouth. “I shouldn’t…”
“Did you know” and isn’t it strange, hearing Aizawa-sensei talking this way, so candid and soft, like I matt- “the first year I started teaching, I clammed up every time I saw a spot where Oboro used to drag us? I ended up expelling the entire class, that year, I was so caught up in the grief and pain and I refused to talk to anyone about it. In a way, I’m glad Principal Nezu could see right through me, because I wasn’t going to accept any kind of help that wasn’t forced back then.” The faintest hint of a smile enters his words. “So do the logical thing and accept the help.”
The tears didn’t stop, but laughter managed to break through intermittently.