Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was a lesson on signs of abuse and how to spot it. Aizawa was teaching them that heroes don’t only work on the field, but that there are some jobs done in secret, rescuing those in need from horrible situations. Learning to spot the difference between instinctual behaviour and learned behaviour, and how they applied to a situation. Like how it is instinctive to flinch away from a loud source of noise, but it is learned to cover your head in anticipation for a hit. 

“Instinct is something you can’t help, because it’s your body’s way of protecting you,” Aizawa had his arms up on the podium, upper body leaning heavily on the table as he looked at his class. “But victims of abuse have to learn to change how they behave because they think it’s the best way to minimize how much they get hurt, and their body knows that. So while your reaction to, say someone waving a hand in your face, might be to flinch back slightly, someone who’s suffered through abuse could have multiple reactions. These people learn to behave a certain way to not upset their abuser, so they might freeze in place, dissociate as a way of protecting themselves, or they might fall backwards and cover their face.”

It was obvious his class was uncomfortable with discussing such a serious topic, but Aizawa knew that it was important to be able to pick apart or learn to avoid triggering someone that they’re rescuing, lest they send them into a panic attack. He quietly gauged their reactions as he continued explaining, warning them of ways to be wary or avoid hurting someone further, even if only mentally.

He could tell that a certain few students had a stronger opinion on the matter by the way they were shifting in their seats. When he glanced past his right, he noticed Midoriya had his head down, but his hands weren’t scribbling away at pages and pages of notes like usual. Bakugou was looking a shade paler than usual, face set in his usual scowl, but it seemed off. Aizawa filed away the reactions for later, deciding not to question it until class was over.

Well, that was until Midoriya raised his hands, eyes locked onto the desk even with the fogginess in them. He called out the boy’s name, letting him ask his question.

“Is it considered abuse when someone is suicide baited?”

It was obvious he wasn’t the only one not expecting the question, especially with the way some heads whipped around to stare at the greenette. To Midoriya’s credit, the teen didn’t even shrink away from the gazes, simply unfocusing his eyes while looking at nothing in particular. Aizawa watched as Bakugou’s eyes widened by a fraction, and he raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the class again.

“To answer your question Midoriya, yes, it would be a sort of verbal abuse,” Aizawa watched as the kid’s mind drew itself in further, building walls up around itself and he couldn’t help but frown a little. “Though I would assume there were multiple things that led up to the person being suicide baiting, usually bullying. Suicide baiting isn’t usually the first thing someone does to hurt someone, but rather starting off with little insults that devolve into physical or emotional abuse.”

He saw something click in Midoriya’s mind, and he couldn’t help but be worried. Aizawa never knew what was going on in his mind, but he could tell that right now? It couldn’t be anything good. He ignored the way Bakugou kept tensing for now, and went to speak, intending on continuing the lesson when he heard a quiet mutter come from Midoriya. Judging from the looks of horror on Jirou and Shouji’s faces, it must have been bad.

“What did you say Midoriya?”

Jirou had stood up in her seat, eyes wide as she stared at the boy. They might not have been close enough to be friends, but he was still her classmate and she cared for him as such, so to hear something like that come out of his mouth was shocking.

Midoriya looked surprised for a second, before his face tinted pink, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Forgot you have super hearing, sorry,” Midoriya gave a small smile to the panicked girl, not picking up on what she was asking at all. “It’s nothing important, don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it?” Jirou was all but screeching. “Mido, politely, what the fuck? What do you mean, ‘What if I deserved it?’”

The class fell silent, Midoriya’s face eerily blank. He shrugged.

“I mean does it really count as abuse when I deserved it?”

Bakugou spun around in his chair, slamming his hands down on the table.

“No one deserves to be told to die , shitty fucking nerd,” Bakugou shouted. He lowered his voice, head hanging slightly as he muttered. “Especially not someone as nice as you.”

Half the class looked ready to aggressively shout love and affection into Midoriya, but Aizawa silenced them with a glare. He sighed, eyes turning to look at his Problem Child.

“Quiet down please,” Aizawa suppressed another sigh. “Let me finish the lesson first, Midoriya I wanna have a chat with you and Bakugou after class, you went to the same school right? The rest of you, leave your gossiping for after class please, don’t pester or pressure anyone into answering questions they’re uncomfortable with, if you’re worried about someone either bring it up with them or a trusted adult, but don’t push someone into an uncomfortable situation, got it? Don’t corner someone into telling you answers when you probably don’t need to pry into their lives.”

And with that, the class settled. Throughout the rest of the period, anxious glances were cast towards Midoriya, who was looking down at the table, face blank but mind in utter chaos.

---

He couldn’t figure out where he said something wrong. 

He keeps his face carefully blank as he places the red spider lilies into his bag, ignoring silent snickers coming from his peers.

It’s how it’s always been.

“Deku, you’re worth less than the shit on the bottom of my shoe. Give me your fucking lunch, a quirkless like you doesn’t deserve it.”

Quirkless little deku’s don’t get to eat.

A fist socks him in the nose, it’s accompanied by a claw scratching at his back. He cradles his arms to his body, taking blow after blow, blood soaking into his uniform.

A deku like him deserves to be beaten, to be reminded of his place.

“Why don’t you pray for a quirk in the next life, and take a swan dive off the building,” He begins to walk away.

Izuku deserves death, because otherwise he’s merely a waste of everyone’s time. 

“Maybe I should,” he mumbled. Somewhere in the doorway of the classroom, a boy’s movements stutter to a halt.

But it’s fine now, because he has a quirk. Maybe that’s why Aizawa seemed upset, because he’d waste a quirk if he ended up dead. 

---

Bakugou didn’t know what to think. 

“Maybe I should.”

He didn’t mean it.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

He didn’t want his only friend gone.

Deku didn’t look like he heard him, if the way he merely shrugged his bag on and walked towards the door was any clue.

If he could take it back now, he knew he would.

“I’m a waste of a lot of resources anyway, may as well save space. Do you think mum has enough money for a funeral? Wait no, she shouldn’t have to waste money on me huh.”

He didn’t think Deku Izuku would take it seriously.

“Dad should have stayed, he would have gladly killed and buried me for free.”

What the fuck was happening.

He only watched as his closest but furthest friend looked up the stairwell leading to the roof. He couldn’t move even as he watched the boy climb up slowly. He only began to move when he already started walking back down.

Was it his fault?

“Probably shouldn’t bother someone with the cleanup,” Izuku smiled as he walked past him. His eyes looked dead. “Might be better to swan dive off a bridge into a river, don’t you think? That way I might get a water breathing quirk in the future. Wouldn’t that be neat?”

Bakugou took a quiet, shuddering breath.

“De- ‘Zuku,” the greenette turned around, eyes looking almost angered. 

“My name’s Deku to you. If I’m going to die, may as well die a deku, right?”

He needed to apologise.

---

Aizawa watched his students file out of the classroom, some of them throwing hesitant looks over their shoulders towards their friends, only to wander away when he glared at them. Midoriya seemed to be thinking about something intensely, his face focused on nothing but his desk while Bakugou fidgeted in his seat, though he tried to play it off.

“Problem children,” Izuku looked up at that. “Care to explain what happened during class?”

Midoriya shrugs as he looks at the floor.

“You’re angry at me for saying I deserved to be suicide baited right?” Midoriya was sitting straight in his chair, eyes fogged over, not quite looking Aizawa in the eyes. Bakugou leaned back in his chair, one hand on his chin as he stared at his table. “Because now I’m worth something so I shouldn’t say things like that.”

Bakugou looked ready to either bust down screaming angrily or punch Midoriya in the face. Probably both, let's be honest. Aizawa sighed again, already tired of the situation. He wasn’t paid enough for this. 

“What do you mean, ‘Now I’m worth something’?” Aizawa grunted as his Problem Child shuffled in his chair. “No one deserves to be suicide baited. It’s not like one person’s life is ‘worth’ more than another. A life is a life and everyone should be ‘worth’ the same. You can’t say someone doesn’t deserve to live, kid.”

Midoriya looked so confused, and that simply broke Aizawa’s heart. 

“As far as I’m aware there’s no bullying, let alone suicide baiting within the walls of U.A, so I assumed it happened back in middle school, which is why I called Bakugou over as well,” Aizawa turned to face the blond. “Can you explain what’s going on?”

He watched his student grit his teeth, eyes hardening with a sort of grim determination as he opened his mouth. 

“The nerd was bullied since he was four, it only stopped once he came to U.A,” Bakugou’s fists were clenched tightly and Aizawa bit back a comment. “I was the first to call him Deku. But I don’t know when the suicide baiting started, just that when I was gone for a week for some family issues I came back and he had a vase of spider lilies sitting on his desk. It didn’t even cross my mind that he might have been dead and people were just putting flowers on his desk. I just- I ignored it I guess.”

“I still have the vase!” Midoriya’s smile was hardly appropriate for the situation. “The teacher yelled at me for getting permanent marker on my desk and made me go home, so he threw the vase at me on my way out. I’m glad it didn't break, mum says the flowers look nice in my bedroom.”

Aizawa’s eyes widened. Just what were those teachers thinking? Denying a child their right to education for drawing on their desk? Throwing easily breakable objects at a child? What the fuck?

“Nerd, it wasn’t even you who got marker on the desk,” Bakugou grimaced. “It was those extras who wrote those shitty things on your desk, the teacher wasn’t meant to yell at you for that.”

Midoriya shrugged again, smile dimming a little. 

“It’s what always happened, Kacchan,” Midoriya narrowed his eyes. “You know this, why do you care? It’s not like you helped me anyways.”

Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Bakugou were you one of Midoriya’s bullies?” He watched his student lower his head. “Why? What could Midoriya possibly have done to warrant hatred strong enough to ignore a peer being told to die?”

Bakugou cast a nervous glance towards Midoriya, almost like he was silently asking something. Midoriya smiled and chimed in instead. 

“I was quirkless until the entrance exams sir.”

Aizawa hid his look of shock in his scarf. 

“Bakugou wasn’t wrong to call me Deku. That’s all I was, sir. I mean, I know I’m not now, but that’s because I have a quirk. My quirklessness was contagious but they still tried beating it out of me, didn’t work too well. It’s just people putting a quirkless deku in his place, it’s not important. Oh, I’m gonna get expelled for being quirkless aren’t I? Whelp, I’ll go pack up or somethin-”

“Whoa there,” Aizawa grabbed his student’s wrist, the glassiness of his eyes not going unnoticed. “I’m not expelling you, kid. I just wanted to talk. I wouldn’t expel you because you’re quirkless, kid, I fight quirkless, whether you have a quirk doesn’t make a difference in whether you have heroic potential. You gonna sit down for me, Problem Child? Or do you wanna stay standing?”

Izuku let out a small sniffle, his peppy facade fading away into something vulnerable. Aizawa loosened his grip on his student’s wrist, but instead moved to hold the kid’s hand. 

“Talk to me kid,” Aizawa watched the boy crouch down on the floor next to his chair, hand still clinging to his teacher. “What happened to you? What did they do to you, Midoriya?”

Bakugou hovered hesitantly by the doorway, and when he caught his teacher’s eye, motioned towards it. Aizawa nodded sharply before turning his attention to the student who was frozen on the spot, rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand. 

As soon as the door clicked shut, Aizawa saw Midoriya’s trembling increase twofold. He placed his other hand on top of Midoriya’s, moving to sit on the floor next to him, the chair being pushed to the side silently. Gently, he squeezed Midoriya’s hands in his, bringing one of them to his chest in an attempt to get the boy to match his breathing. He kept his hands where they were, waiting on Midoriya to unfurl his body. He sat cross legged on the floor, keeping his breathing steady until he saw Midoriya shift. 

“You back with me kid?” Aizawa spoke in soft tones, hands slowly letting go of Midoriya’s. The boy keened, and Aizawa shuffled closer. “Tell me what you want kiddo, do you want a hug?”

He opened his arms and unsurprisingly found himself with a lapful of teenage boy, curling fingers into the teens' hair. He tucked Midoriya under his chin, letting the kid cry into his shoulder as he rocked him back and forth. One arm was supporting Midoriya’s back while the other came to rest over his side, holding the boy against him. Izuku had one hand on his shirt, the other was clinging to the end of his scarf like a lifeline. Aizawa could feel his chest ache as his student whimpered. 

“If you’re not up for talking, it’s perfectly fine, okay?” He got a sniffle in response. “But I care about you kid, and it hurts to hear you say that stuff about yourself. You’re worth so much, Problem Child. Your whole class loves you.”

He watched the teen in his arms closely, the boy peering up at him from under his curls. He brushed his hands through Izuku’s hair, the boy going limp against his chest, face hiding into his scarf. Aizawa could feel the shivering die down somewhat, the boy breathing in deep with his face tucked into his neck. After he’d calmed down somewhat, Izuku lowered his face, instead leaning his forehead on his teacher’s shoulder. 

“When I turned four I got diagnosed quirkless,” Izuku felt a hand squeeze his softly, and he wriggled slightly. “I told Kacchan first, and he started calling me Deku. Well, he used to call me that before we turned four, he just misread my name. But that was when it became hostile.”

Midoriya took a shuddering breath, eyes closing as a finger tapped soothingly against his arm. He absentmindedly fiddled with his teacher’s capture weapon. 

“Teachers told kids to be careful around me because I was fragile,” Midoriya huffed out a laugh. “Not like they listened. All anyone did was either put me down or praise Kacchan, which is probably why he has this huge superiority complex now. He got away with everything, he shoved a kid into a locker while a teacher watched and told him he had good control on his quirk now.”

While Aizawa was outwardly suppressing his disgust, his mind was screaming at him to go confront Nedzu about all this. He knew he couldn’t leave the kid halfway through, he’d only do more harm. He cradled his Problem Child in his arms, the boy still looking scared. He loosened the capture scarf around his neck, the fabric bundling together on Izuku’s chest. . 

“Please don’t expel Kacchan,” Izuku’s voice was soft, and sounded like he’d break down into tears at any moment, so Shouta held his tongue, instead opting to watch as Midoriya hugged his scarf. “No one told him what he did was wrong. Yeah, he should’ve known better than to use his quirk on someone, but he did it in broad daylight in front of teachers and no one said anything. I tried to talk to them about it and they said I was just seeking attention and I should stop antagonising him. It’s not Kacchan’s fault. He- I-”

“Kid,” Aizawa shut his eyes, his cheek pressing into fluffy green curls. “If you were in his position, would you blow up people for fun? Would you think it’s okay to hurt someone?”

Izuku shook his head, shifting in Aizawa’s lap. The man moved his hand to the teen’s knee, rubbing circles into it as he spoke.

“Bakugou shouldn’t have hurt you in the first place,” Aizawa opened his eyes, levelling his student with a stern gaze. “Hurting a person because they’re ‘weaker’ than you is not right, nothing should justify scarring a child. And I know you have scars, kiddo, I’m your teacher so I’ve been there for your surgeries. I couldn’t tell at first but now I can see that those marks were made from his quirk. Kid, what happened when you told someone?”

Midoriya’s hands moved, hugging the scarf tighter as his hands clawed at his arms. He felt the familiar discomfort of panic settling in his chest, constricting his lungs and making it hard for him to breathe when he felt something warm against his back, hands now holding his. He looked up, realising that Aizawa had turned him around so he was leaning completely against his teacher, and he felt a warm blush settle on his face when he gently squeezed his hands. 

“I… they-” Midoriya choked on his sentence, hands moving to clench Aizawa’s in a tight grip, a stark contrast to the lax one they held before. “I told a teacher three times, I think. The first time they told me it was just how Kacchan had fun, and not to be so sensitive. The second time they said I was faking and said I wasn’t allowed to skip class to go to the nurse for an injury I ‘didn’t have’. The third time they said to stop antagonising him and trying to get marks on his record. They claimed I was trying to sabotage Kacchan’s chances of getting into U.A, so they put any of the black marks that should’ve gone to him onto my file. I think I told my mother that I got hurt at school one time and she locked me in my room for a week. I wasn’t allowed to leave. Her baby was too fragile for the real world. I went to the police one time about the bullying, since I read somewhere that it was illegal, but as soon as I mentioned I was quirkless, they ignored every word I said, just kept repeating that they could arrest me for making false claims.”

Midoriya felt his teacher’s arms tightening around him, but not uncomfortably. The man pulled his scarf around Izuku’s neck before pulling him into his chest, squeezing him lightly. Midoriya melted into the touch, his own arms coming up to clench at Shouta’s scarf, the scent of coffee and paper filling his nose. He could feel the tears running down his face soak into the fabric. 

“What did I do to them?” He silently wailed to his teacher, chest aching with pain. “I just wanted someone to help me, but no one would believe me or listen, is it because of me? Am I just that useless? Papa should’ve gotten rid of me while he had the chance, the only reason I’m here is because I cheated. I should be dead in a ditch somewhere, not taking up someone else’s slot, Shinsou would be a much better candidate for my place-”

Aizawa could feel the boy quaking through the fabric of his shirt and he cooed at the whimpering child.

“Shh, shh, you’re fine Izuku. You’re okay, can you breathe for me kiddo? That’s it, just like that honey,” Aizawa hushed the boy, cutting off the self deprecating stream of comments flowing out of the boy’s mouth. He rocked back and forth, tapping out a steady rhythm on the kid’s back as he kept up a quiet but continuous flow of words. “Hey, hey, Izuku? Can you look up for me kiddo? No, you don’t have to, I just want you to know I am so proud of you. You’ve done so well, you’ve had less than a few months to even learn all the different things you can do with your quirk and you’re already ahead of most of the class. You’ve done so good kiddo.”

The boy keened, his arms wrapping around Aizawa’s torso before tightening, Izuku burying his face in the man’s shoulder. Shouta continued rubbing circles into Izuku’s back as the two sat on the floor.

“I know I don’t show it often but I am so glad to have you in my class,” Aizawa looked towards the door, not pausing his idle chatter at all as he saw bright yellow hair done up with gel moving past before pausing. “Yes, I think Shinsou deserves a spot in my class, but I wouldn’t trade you for anyone, okay Izuku? Do you think you can keep breathing like that for me? Yeah, that’s good, Problem Child.”

He heard Yamada push open the door with a click, and could feel Midoriya immediately begin to panic. He continued cooing, though his face was trying to silently tell Hizashi to be gentle with his student.

“Hey, no don’t do that, I can’t have you hurting yourself honey,” Aizawa ignored the shock on Yamada’s face as he turned utterly soft for this one student. “Here, hold my hands instead. Nono, you’re okay Midoriya, breathe for me, inhale… exhale… Now listen to me okay, it’s just Present Mic. Hizashi Yamada, your english teacher, okay? He was walking past the classroom and wanted to make sure I didn’t fall asleep on the floor again. You’re alright, no one else is here, it’s just us.”

Slowly, Midoriya came down from his panic high and he glanced behind him at Hizashi, who was sitting on the floor, a small but worried smile on his face. The blond reached out one hand, holding it palm up to the right of Midoriya, letting him choose whether he held it or not. Izuku took another breath before he moved his hand from where it was gripping Shouta to hold Yamada’s instead. He kept his hand there though he did turn to hide his face in Aizawa’s shoulder again. 

“How you doin’, lil broccoli?” Hizashi scooted a bit closer, thumb stroking the back of the kid’s palm. “If you wanna take a nap, go for it. Shouta and I can bring you back to the teacher’s lounge to snooze if you’re too uncomfortable to be around your class. I wouldn’t mind letting you stay in my dorm room to take a nap. Why don’t you let us know where you’d be most comfortable with sleeping, and I’ll help Shouta take you there, hm?”

Izuku sluggishly nodded, squeezing Hizashi’s hand in silent thanks. The man stayed silent, waiting for Midoriya to respond. Just as he began to think the kid fell asleep, the boy wriggled, a small blush on his tired face.

“Can I sleep in ‘Zawa’s room?”

The man in question stiffened for a split second, before threading a hand through the boy’s hair, brushing out the curls again.

“Of course you can, buddy,” Aizawa could see the grin on Yamada’s face, but he knew his husband at least had the decency to wait until Midoriya was finally in bed before calling him out. “Do you wanna head there now? I know that all the students are gone now, and if they’re studying with a teacher they won’t see you at least. Are you okay with moving now kiddo?”

Once he felt Izuku nod, Shouta shifted so one arm was curled under Mido’s leg, standing up while his bones creaked in complaint. He was too old for this. 

“I can see it on your face, Shouta,” Hizashi sighed with a smile. “You're not old, love. You’re only 30, geez.” 

Izuku let out a sleep drunk giggle at the words, the gentle rocking of his body as Aizawa walked around the school helping lull him into a sense of security. 

“Todoroki owes me 1000 yen,” Midoriya’s words were slurring slightly but the two teachers still heard him perfectly fine. Shouta snorted. 

“Why’s that, Problem Child?”

“‘Cos I bet you two were married and he said that you were dating,” Izuku looked over to Hizashi, still holding onto the man’s hand. He fiddled with the ring on his finger before holding up the hand triumphantly. “This is a wedding ring right ‘Zawa?”

Aizawa smiled softly, nodding at the child in his arms. “You got it right kiddo.”

Midoriya let out a quiet ‘yay’ before lowering the hand back down, playing with Yamada’s fingers without a second thought. It wasn’t long before he piped up again. 

“Todoroki thinks that Shinsou is your secret love child,” Izuku continued talking while the two adults sputtered in the background. “Said something about looking just as sleep deprived as you, Sensei. I said if Shinsou was your child, he’d be adopted because I think you’re as straight as a circle and wouldn’t willingly touch a woman with a ten foot pole.”

Hizashi cackled at his husband, moving his hand to boop the little listener on the nose. 

“He got you there, Shou,” Yamada smiled at the man, pressing a kiss into his shoulder. “And we wouldn’t have you any other way.” 

Soon enough the group made it to the teacher’s dorms, and Aizawa paused. 

“‘Zashi, can you go in first? Let any of the teachers inside know we have a student over,” Shouta felt Izuku curl up in his arms a little, and he let out a soft coo at the boy. “He’s probably anxious enough, warn them not to speak too loudly.”

Hizashi nodded, kissing his husband before turning to walk into the dorm. Izuku snickered when he heard the man’s voice yelling at everyone from outside, Aizawa sighing in exasperation.

“Okay, you can come in with the little listener now, honey.”

When he walked in he felt Izuku move to hide his face in his scarf, and he huffed quietly, walking into the living room, which only had a couple teachers there, though most of them were marking essays. Cementoss and Snipe were in a corner, their idle chatter being the only noise in the room other than the occasional turn of paper. Midnight sat on the couch drinking tea while she watched Thirteen write out their lesson plan, before noticing Aizawa’s entrance. At the sight of the student in his arms, her eyes softened, and she smiled at the man. 

Izuku was grateful the other teacher’s didn’t ask questions, but he could see Midnight looking his way through the gaps in the scarf and he shrank, clutching the capture weapon closer to himself as he leaned against Aizawa. 

“Shh, you’re okay,” Aizawa mumbled into the teen’s hair, quietly enough that only Izuku could hear. He heard a small whimper come from the boy and he started to walk a little faster. “I’m right here Izuku, you’re fine. They won’t hurt you, I’m here for you kiddo, just breathe, just like that. You’ll be alright, look, we’re at my room now Izuku.”

Midoriya turned his head slightly, noticing that they were standing in an empty hallway, and he wriggled in Aizawa’s arms until he could sit up a little more. Hizashi was standing off to the side, a small smile on his face as he watched his husband carry the boy in with ease. 

Aizawa gently set Izuku down on the bed, the boy nestling down under the covers immediately, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips. Shouta grabbed the blankets and tucked him in, brushing the boy’s hair out of his face before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. 

“Go to sleep, Problem Child,” Aizawa smiled at the tired eyes looking at him, ruffling the kid’s hair before turning away. He tried to walk away, planning on leaving the room while the child slept, but a hand tugging on the back of his shirt made him pause. He looked to his husband, who had a shit eating grin on his face, and sighed, turning back around to look at Midoriya.

Izuku was watching him with pleading eyes, and Aizawa would deny it to his dying day when he melted at the sight, sitting down next to his Problem Child. He held the kid’s hand, a bright smile being shot his way as he brushed his thumb over the back of it. He didn’t have his capture weapon to hide his soft grin, and he silently cursed himself for it, but the sleepy child that fell asleep clinging to him made it a little more worth it. He ignored the click of a camera and the closing of a door, knowing well that the photo would probably find its way onto the teacher’s chat soon enough. 

“You’re ruining my reputation, Problem Child.”