Chapter Text
When Aizawa first saw Midoriya Izuku he knew the boy would be a problem.
Tiny, confident, and completely assured, the kid walked into the arena and that confidence started to crack. His start was pretty good at least. He intelligently held back when Mic called start to keep from being squished in with the crowd.
He didn't keep much of an eye on the kid, watching several screens at once, but when he looked back he winced sympathetically. Aizawa recognized that pale expression of utter fear. Hizashi had the exact same face whenever there were bugs around. He figured tough luck on the kid and was set on ignoring him. The exams were staggered in every arena so they didn't have to watch and score every student out of thousands at once, but he still had other examinees to keep an eye on.
Then he saw All Might, in his smaller form, watching a screen the kid was on with a worried expression. Aizawa looked at the screen just in time to see the kid’s fear be wiped away by determination and concern.
Midoriya then continued on to consistently help and assist any other examinee he saw in danger or injured. Despite his terror.
Color Aizawa impressed. As much as he sometimes gave Hizashi shit, he knew actual phobias weren't a joke. They were serious, illogical conditions that could paralyze people completely and totally without warning. Midoriya pushing through his fear anyways was certainly interesting. It wasn't an act either. Every now and then the kid faltered and it was only other examinees that saved him.
The real interesting thing was watching All Might's steady gaze on him. It was suspicious. Carefully blank and not giving away anything.
Aizawa was fairly impressed by the kid's instincts but he wasn't impressed by his recklessness.
“Look at that little cutie! Running to save her life~” Midnight purred loudly. “Haven't noticed any quirk from him, useless against robots?”
“Eye and Hair Color, a simple aesthetic quirk.” Nedzu said pleasantly as he shuffled papers around.
The room went completely silent, the teachers watching the green haired boy sprint to a sliding stop next to the girl pinned under rubble.
“Boy's got some balls.” Snipe said, impressed.
“He's reckless.” Aizawa shot back. “He's been terrified out of his mind the whole time. I doubt he has an actual plan.”
“But he sure has the spirit.” All Might murmured, some of the others agreeing with him. Aizawa narrowed his eyes at him thoughtfully.
The next time Aizawa saw Midoriya it was, embarrassingly, while he was snoring on Tensei's couch. Sue him, he'd just got off patrol and figured it would be easier to show up at the Iida House early and sleep until Tenya's Yuuei Acceptance party actually started.
“Is he okay?” A high pitched voice woke him up.
“Ah! Yes! That's Uncle Aizawa, he's- ah, well. He's one of Tensei's best friends and he-”
“He's awake, you know.” Oddly enough a voice snarked that sentence a few seconds before he could. Aizawa cracked an eye open to stare at the mess of green hair and piercing green eyes staring at him curiously.
“Yes, I am.”
“Sorry Uncle Aizawa!!!” Tenya chopped his arms frantically and Aizawa yawned, waving a hand unconcernedly.
“It's fine, whatever.” Shouta sat up and cracked his back. Several of the kids standing around made faces at the noise. Aizawa recognized all their faces from his class files.
Fantastic.
Not only was Nedzu being cute and putting his honorary nephew in his class, Aizawa was going to meet several of the brats before school even started.
And still those green eyes were watching him curiously.
The party was the normal mix of utter chaos and casual fun that always happened when people gathered in the Iida house. The four kids of honor were all goofing off in the corner and the adults were all talking and gushing over their kids in general. Hizashi, Tensei, and Nemuri were gossiping in the other corner and giving the kids evil looks that spoke of chaos to come.
“Hello, you're Aizawa-san, yes?” A tiny green haired woman approached him and for some reason, Aizawa felt rather unnerved. He put it down as being around the parent of one of his students far earlier than he usually was. That green was damn near identical.
“Yes.” He peered over his cup of sadly non spiked punch. “You must be Midoriya's mother.”
“Yes! And I heard those trouble makers over there mentioning you taught at UA as well!” Midoriya smiled and folded her hands carefully around her cup of tea.
Damnit, Mic. They'd agreed to try and not let the brats know. Tenya knew already as a matter of course but he could usually keep his mouth shut.
Aizawa didn't reply, exactly, grunting and taking a drink.
Midoriya nodded in understanding and smiled pleasantly. “Honestly, I'm surprised my son hasn't cornered Yamada-san or Kayama-san for autographs yet. Heaven knows he would recognize them from anywhere. He recognized poor Shun and her costume is a suit of armor that changes every other month!” She laughed and shook her head.
Aizawa looked over at the group of kids and saw the younger Midoriya huddled in the corner bouncing up and down anxiously, the other kids appearing to be hyping him up.
“Might be soon. You let him see heroes like Midnight?” Not that as a person she was bad, too raunchy half the time but that was what he got for his husband being a horny bastard. No, her PR team tended to market her very… inappropriately. And she encouraged them. So most of her media and fan base appearances were definitely not child appropriate.
“He's fascinated with how quirks work,” She waved off his comment. “Hers is especially interesting and he's got a healthy interest in hero politics and relationships with the media. While I do make sure he's not watching anything too wild, he normally just watches her villain takedowns anyways.” Midoriya glanced to the side and her mouth quirked. She took a sip of her punch and laughed quietly. “Excuse me.”
Surprisingly, one green head of hair was rapidly replaced by another.
“H-hello!” The younger Midoriya was holding onto a journal with tight hands and smiling nervously. “Eraserhead?”
Aizawa blinked.
How the hell did this kid know who he was?
“Yeah?” He said, baffled and unsure how to react. He heard Hizashi cackling across the room and immediately shot him a glare. “Did those little shits-”
“N-no!” Midoriya spluttered shyly. “I'm just- a hero nerd, honestly, and I especially like looking into underground heroes because that's the career I want to go into so I've been researching current underground heroes and their methods and you're one of the best ones and I barely recognized you at first but then I realized who you were from your capture weapon and-” Aizawa put his hand over the kid’s mouth. The kid flinched heavily and he nearly drew back except for the sudden stillness.
“Stop.” Aizawa felt a headache brewing. “I don't do autographs.”
“That's fine!!” Midoriya said under his hand, muffled, sounding strained. “C-could you just-” Aizawa moved his hand and the kid sighed in relief. “Put- something? Like a- a doodle of your goggles?? At least???” God that kid had some big puppy dog eyes.
Aizawa sighed.
He took the pen the kid was holding. Midoriya looked ecstatic and immediately flipped through the journal frantically. When a clean page was presented to him he did a rather unimpressive sketch of his goggles. He wasn't exactly an artist. Midoriya looked thrilled nonetheless when he pulled the journal back.
“Thank you so much, Eraser- ah, Aizawa-san!” He bowed and then sprinted off to his huddle of friends. They rapidly patted him on the shoulders and back while he made several high pitched noises.
“I can’t believe you have a fan!” Hizashi sidled up next to him and hooked an arm around his shoulder.
“Don’t mention it, seriously. I shouldn't. Nobody should even know I exist.” Hizashi just laughed at him.
The next time Aizawa saw Midoriya it was the first day of class and he had an entire classroom of students to evaluate and decide whether they had any potential or not. He didn’t have time to keep too close of an eye on him.
Honestly, he was curious what the kid thought he could bring to the table. Aizawa wasn’t against quirkless people, but in the hero field? Quirks were important. In a matter of life and death, he couldn’t in good conscious let a kid go into the field if he wasn’t taking this seriously. Especially if his quirk wasn’t useful in combat.
Fortunately the kid at least seemed ready to prepare himself. The physical assessment went off without a hitch and Midoriya had near top scores in everything. The students with quirks who helped them out in certain tests scored higher, but Midoriya’s physical fitness was near top notch. Oddly so. Half the time he looked like he wasn’t paying attention and the rest of the time he looked like he was staring a hole into thin air.
However. Aizawa wasn’t seeing much of his previous determination. In the entrance exam the kid had showed a lot of potential morally. Physically, he could probably rank at the top of the class. But as a hero?
That was what Aizawa was really here to test.
So he stopped Midoriya last minute, before he went on the field for his ball throw.
“What is your quirk, Midoriya.” Aizawa didn’t ask. He demanded.
“Ah-ah… my quirk is Hair and Eye Color, Sensei…” Midoriya shrank in on himself and then his eyes went faintly glazed and his hair flickered black, blue, blond, red, and back to green.
“And you think you can become a hero with a quirk that’s useless for combat?” Aizawa stared down at him, cold, eyes lidded carelessly.
Midoriya looked hurt and then a spark of fire burst forth. Anger and righteousness burst forwards.
But he didn’t say anything.
He clearly bit his tongue and then his eyes flickered around thoughtfully, teeth grinding. When he finally spoke Midoriya’s voice was blank and factual.
“Aizawa-sensei, you’re an underground hero. You’re not stupid enough to think quirks make heroes.”
Aizawa resisted the urge to snort. Instead he raised an eyebrow at the child.
“What makes you think you can make up for the lack of a useful quirk? What do you bring to the table to back you up where others will have superhuman abilities? What can you do, Midoriya?” Aizawa leaned in close, eyes narrowed challengingly.
“I can think.” Midoriya said quietly. “I can act. I can plan. I can network. I can blend in. I can stand out. I can be quiet, or make noise, or follow orders, or give orders. I can know the rules and I can learn when I need to break them.”
There was something terrifying in those eyes and the set of his face. Something old, and determined, and a raging fire that Aizawa would swear should only come from people many times the boy’s age. A challenge to meet the gauntlet Shouta had thrown down.
“I might not be able to anything extraordinary, sensei.” Midoriya whispered. “But I can still do things. And more importantly I can learn.” The deadly seriousness dropped from him and he shuffled shyly, holding his arms around himself awkwardly. “C-can I throw now, Aizawa-sensei?”
The sheer difference between the indignant rage and shyness made Aizawa realize he’d gotten one of those people as a student. People who were hard to truly read because they could hide or fake things way too easily. Capable of taking off and putting on faces as easily as breathing. Similar to Hizashi, but mastered far earlier than his husband had.
Aizawa grinned. “Go ahead and make your throw, Midoriya. And congratulations.”
“On what, sensei?” That head tilt and confused, shaky smile were too perfect. Too well executed now that he knew what the kid was about. There was a slight hint of amusement to that smile. How the hell a fourteen year old could play this game so well he didn’t know.
“On giving me a reason to not expel you.” Aizawa stepped back and didn’t bother hiding the grin covering his face.
Midoriya was an interesting kid. Aizawa wasn’t sure what to do with him half the time. Not much really challenged him, mentally, and if he ever struggled in class he came back the next day understanding the material well enough. It wasn’t Aizawa’s concern outside of acknowledging Midoriya’s ability to seek outside help and tutoring when he needed it. Many students didn't have that sort of self-awareness.
Physically, Midoriya didn’t seem very challenged either. Whatever outside training he was doing was pretty thorough.
He got migraines and headaches frequently from quirk strain - not that Aizawa knew that for a bit. Aizawa had noted snipingly that Midoriya had a lot of tardies and late slips for just the first few days of school. Midoriya had apologized profusely and said he would do better.
Aizawa thought that was the end of it until Recovery Girl came in and hit him on the head with her cane, explaining that Midoriya had come to her office for her dark room for all his marked down tardies. The room was sectioned off from the rest of her office, sound proofed, permanently had the lights turned off, and had a cot with a pillow. Typically Aizawa hijacked it when he had a migraine. Other staff and students used it for similar reasons.
The next time Aizawa had a spare second he cuffed Midoriya on the shoulder and lectured him on letting your teachers know when you have medical conditions. Why on earth Midoriya’s seemingly simple quirk gave him migraines from strain he didn’t know, but it wasn’t his business so he didn’t ask.
The kid had stuttered, stammered, and then blurted out something about a fear of people’s skin touching him - and also one of robots - then ran out of the classroom after his friends. Aizawa took note of that and then continued on towards the bus loading garage.
In between dozing periodically on the bus he kept an eye out on the students and took note how Midoriya’s friend group took special care to touch him, but only on areas covered by clothes. They were very serious about his personal bubble. Iida looked ready to physically remove Todoroki when he fell asleep on Midoriya’s shoulder. Midoriya allowed Aoyama to pick up Todoroki’s head and swap seats with him instead.
He remembered terror during the exam and stiffened shoulders when he'd just put a hand over his mouth.
Interesting.
Aizawa didn't remember much from the USJ. He remembered villains, fighting, pain…
A lot of pain.
He remembered the burning need to protect his kids and something about one of them laying hands on Tsuyu-
And screaming. God, he remembered the screaming. He didn't remember anything else at that point except for that terrible, piercing scream. According to the students’ stories he'd pretty much had one foot in the grave at that point so it wasn't surprising he wasn't aware of anything else.
When Aizawa woke up after the USJ he took the first few seconds to acknowledge what he could of his surroundings. Hospital, if that smell and the constant beeping around him said anything. He took advantage of the first few pain free seconds and-
...oh God he was starving.
... how long had he been out?
Aizawa grunted and tested his arms out. No pain? Good enough-
...no.
That. Wasn't… right.
Hadn't… his arms..?
There was a strangled snorting noise, like Hizashi waking up panicked.
“Zashi?”
“Sho!!” That was definitely his husband's panicked voice. “Are you okay?!!” Wait, what? “Holy shit I need to call-” Hizashi cut himself off worryingly and Aizawa finally gave in and tried to open his eyes despite knowing the lights would be blinding.
...that didn't work.
“Why's everything dark?” Aizawa mumbled, realizing he could feel several layers of bandages across his face. That was when he finally noticed that underneath the raging hunger he didn't feel any pain. “...what kind of painkillers am I on?”
He didn't feel like he was on painkillers. They usually fuzzed up his mind and made it hard to think. Right now he felt… remarkably clear headed, actually.
...and really, really hungry.
“Sho, what would you say your pain level is right now?” Hizashi's voice was carefully blank and there was the sound of faint movement around him.
“.......zero?” Aizawa said after a long pause. “I feel… better than I've felt in years, actually. And starving.” His stomach oh so conveniently chose that moment to shift and let out a loud gurgle. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling his stomach give a painful pang. “Really starving.”
“Let's uh- let's wait for a doctor real quick, Sho.”
Aizawa was not happy to wait but eventually they pulled bandages off his face and broke the casts off his arms. They poked and prodded him for far too long before they finally started handing him food and he sort of stopped paying attention. Hizashi was there and he was his husband, so they didn't actually need to talk to him just now and he could safely ignore them. Aizawa felt like he hadn't eaten in weeks. His stomach hurt it was cramping so hard.
When he’d torn through the tray of food they gave him and looked up, looking for more, Hizashi was staring at him with bemused concern.
“You’re still hungry?”
Shouta grunted in annoyance. Of course he was still hungry-
Hizashi reached into his jacket and pulled out a jelly pouch. Aizawa snatched it out of his hands with a grateful noise and immediately sucked it down. He was promptly handed another. By the time Hizashi stopped handing him more jelly pouches another tray of food was put in front of him and he dug into it.
Finally two trays later he started feeling less ravenous and he slowed down, feeling like he’d barely eaten a thing. Usually his stomach should’ve been feeling bloated and distended but he felt like he’d just been snacking before now.
“Jesus, Sho.” He looked up to see Hizashi looking concerned. “How’s all that even fit in you?”
“Dunno.” Aizawa shrugged slightly and spooned bland, overcooked rice into his mouth.
“Well at least he’s slowing down.” A voice muttered next to him and he jumped slightly. “Ah, hello, Aizawa-san,” A young woman in a doctor’s coat smiled awkwardly at him. “I’m Dr. Kijimuta, I was going to be in charge of your care until you were discharged and Recovery Girl took over.”
Aizawa opened his mouth to comment on how he would’ve discharged himself and then paused, shoved a piece of unseasoned chicken into his mouth instead, and thought about what she’d just said while he chewed. “You were?” He finally said when he swallowed.
Kijimuta looked… incredibly strange. He wasn’t sure what her face was trying to do. “Did you not hear anything-?”
“My stomach was trying to eat itself.” He grunted.
She blinked and took a deep breath, reorienting herself. “Aizawa-san when you arrived both your arms were broken and shattered in multiple places, with pins holding them together. Your ribs were bruised and cracked in numerous places and your spine was stressed to a degree where you probably wouldn’t have been able to sit up straight. Your nose was definitely broken, the bones of your face were broken and cracked in several places, you were missing several teeth, the orbital socket of one of your eyes was completely shattered-” Kijimuta stopped and took a deep breath.
While she pinched her nose and looked like she was fighting a headache, Aizawa stopped chewing as he registered several things. He looked at his hands and then his arms. When he set his spoon down and flexed his hands, they were completely pain free. Hell, they usually ached a bit anyways but they felt great.
Aizawa felt his face and poked around. Not a single scratch or bruise. He licked his teeth and yep, every one of them was there. When he breathed in deeply- yep, nothing strained or even felt stiff.
...interesting.
“What happened?” Aizawa eyed her seriously, wanting to know but also still wanting to eat the last of that food tray. As far as he knew there wasn’t a healing quirk in existence that could’ve fixed all of that in one go so perfectly.
“We don’t know.” Kijimuta said through gritted teeth. “Yamada-san- your husband woke up in the middle of the night and supposedly saw an intruder, but was knocked out before he could sound an alarm.” Aizawa jerked in surprise. All it took for Hizashi was one whistle and he could take anyone out or at least let people know something was wrong. “When he woke up it was morning, you were waking up in perfect health, all the pins from your broken bones were sitting at your bedside instead of inside you where they were supposed to be, and you had a note on your chest.”
He looked over at Hizashi.
“Yeah that’s pretty much it.” He shrugged unhappily. “It’s been a weird morning, babe.”
Kijimuta’s eye actually twitched. “The note said to let you eat and that you would be fine, so after some debate I managed to get my colleagues to let you do just that.”
“I’m still hungry, honestly.” Aizawa said and blew at his bangs tiredly, picking up the spoon and shoveling more rice. God he was hungry.
“That's astonishing, considering you've eaten enough to rupture your stomach three times over.” He nearly stopped chewing but decided against it, blinking at her. She sighed. “Your blood pressure was rather high but it's starting to go down while you eat, and you haven't shown any adverse reactions, so I presume it's indeed helping.”
Aizawa looked over and realized there was a blood pressure cuff on his arm.
...huh, when had that gotten there? He was… rather concerned that his environmental awareness had apparently just turned off like that. Right on cue the cuff started inflating to check his blood pressure again and he huffed, moving back to the food. More bland chicken and some equally bland fish. Wonderful.
Eh, it was food. He'd eaten worse.
“Any idea who did it?” He asked, mouth full. Hizashi twitched in disgust.
“...no, they weren't entirely visible on cameras, and what features we have were far too vague for police sketches.”
“I didn't even see anything but a shadow before knocking out.” Hizashi sighed dejectedly. “I'm sorry, babe. Not sorry you're okay though. Just sorry I didn't catch them, because I wanna kiss them.”
Aizawa had a snarky reply to that on the tip of his tongue but he bit it back remembering Kijimuta was still in the room.
“Alright, Aizawa-san, now that you're responsive do you mind answering some questions-”
“You know, I never got to thank you.” Aizawa leaned back into his chair with a grunt, back sore. A hand reached out to his with an unspoken offer and he rolled his eyes and waved it off.
“Thank me for what, dearie?” Inko blinked at him, smiling softly and innocently and slightly distantly like she always did.
“For the USJ.”
“O-oh!” Inko smiled wider and laughed quietly. “No need to thank me dearie, it was only fair.” She shifted slightly in her plush chair and pulled her legs up, knees up against her chest. Her hair rippled and changed colors, skin as well. That was creepy no matter how many times he saw it. “After all you did just risk life and limb to keep my boy and his classmates safe.”
“Is that the only reason you did it?” Shouta asked, mildly curious.
Inko knew by now Aizawa expected nothing but the truth from.her, no matter how blunt, illegal, or amoralistic is was. She also knew by now that he accepted a plain “no comment” if she wasn't going to tell the truth on a matter.
“Well, quite frankly no, mostly because Izuku was worrying himself sick over you and he felt so bad…” She sighed, hand to her face. “It was that combined with how much you put on the line that had me helping you out. Sorry for using my quirk on you without your permission.”
Aizawa snorted loudly. “Trust you to admit you wouldn't have done shit if it weren't for Izuku and then apologize for probably saving my life.”
Inko shrugged lightly. “Permission is important, you know.” She hesitated and bit her lip. “By the way, I… would like to ask if-”
“You want to do some self experimentation with me using my quirk on you, don't you.” It wasn't a question, he was resigned and a little bit exasperated.
“Did Izuku already ask?” She giggled sharply.
“I told him not without your permission and supervision because I have no idea how it may affect him.” Aizawa looked over at the children - newly adults now, most of them, God he felt old - chattering and acting half their ages over across the room. Iida house parties always delivered on the chaotic front.
“I suppose we'll have to pencil in a weekend sometime for it.” Inko beamed fondly as she looked out at all her children. When she turned brown eyes onto him they were equally as fond and he felt a bit of a blush. He was too old to be feeling like an awkward child. Her maternal kindness was just strong and made him feel like a young brat again. “You're not squeamish, are you?”
“If I throw up I'll get back to work afterwards.”
“Excellent then, when works best for you..?”