Chapter Text
“Where’s Ami?” Yaoyorozu asked her classmates. Class 1-A were all eating dinner together. Bakugou had prepared a delicious curry dish, with the help of Sato.
Most of the class shrugged at Yaoyorozu’s question.
“Last I saw her was when she brought groceries back.” Jirou responded.
“But that was hours ago!” Yaoyorozu pointed out, her worry increasing.
“Quit worrying,” Kirishima reassured, “it’s not like she hasn’t done this before.”
Yaoyorozu thought back to all the times Ami had locked herself in her room, refusing to come out. It worried her endlessly. But like Kirishima said, it wasn’t out of the ordinary.
“I’m going to check on her.” Yaoyorozu informed her classmates. She had no intention of listening to anyone who told her not to. She walked up the steps to the third floor. She stopped in front of Ami’s dorm room. Raising her fist, she knocked gently.
Inside, Ami was laying on her bed, staring at the ceiling with tired eyes, drowning in her thoughts. Yaoyorozu knocked a second time, a little louder. This pulled Ami out of her thoughts. She got up and opened the door, only a little bit so her head was sticking out.
Yaoyorozu’s worry grew exponentially when she saw Ami’s face. The other girl looked pale, tired, and sad. But the vice class representative kept a straight face.
“Hey Ami, do you want to join us for dinner?” Yaoyorozu asked gently.
Ami bit her bottom lip, she always had a hard time saying no to Yaoyorozu. The girl cared about their class so much. And this was how she was repaid? She really should eat anyway? She was so hungry.
“Thank you Momo, but I’m alright.” Ami insisted.
“Are you sure? Bakugou and Sato made a delicious dish I’m sure you’ll love. And you need to eat. It’s not good to go to sleep on an empty stomach.”
Ami forced a smile, “Save me some. I’ll eat before I go to bed, promise.”
Yaoyorozu wanted to protest, but she knew better than to push.
“Alright then.”
Yaoyorozu turned away as Ami closed her door. She was convinced that Ami wasn’t telling the truth. She knew what she had to do. Instead of finishing her dinner, Yaoyorozu went straight to Mr.Aizawa’s office.
The bathroom floor was cold. The white tiles were always cold. But they were comforting. Ami left her bedroom to go lay down on the cold surface. She would curl up on the floor, sinking into her own sadness and hunger. Without leaving her spot, she opened one of the bottom cabinets and was face to face with a pack of sealed eyebrow razors, medical supplies, and a bottle of ibuprofen. Ami closed the cabinet after seeing the contents that it held. She swore to her mother that she would never do it again.
She spent a few more minutes, laying on the floor, reminiscing. Thinking. Remembering. Everything. She did not move until she heard a knock on the bathroom door.
“Ami,” a voice said from behind the door, that voice belonged to her teacher. Mr.Aizawa, “Are you in here?”
“I-” Ami stammered out, quickly standing, causing a sharp pain to shoot up her skull. Her voice came out small and weak. She cleared her throat and forced her voice to be stronger. “Yes sir. I'm here.”
“Is it alright if I come in?” Aizawa asked. His voice sounded as flat as usual. Ami couldn’t hear the concern hidden in the back of his throat.
“Um…” Ami desperately wanted to turn him away but instead she didn’t, “Okay.”
Aizawa turned the door handle and gently pushed the door open. His eyes scanned Ami’s face and body. Pale, dark circles under her eyes, uneven stance. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
“Your classmates are worried about you,” Aizawa informed his student, “I wanted to check up on you. Tried going over to your room but obviously, you weren’t there.”
Ami stayed quiet, using the heel of her foot to scratch the bottom of her calf. Not out of itchiness but rather, anticipation and nervousness.
Aizawa eyed this motion, “Are you alright, Ami?”
The girl choked, she always hated that question. It always caused tears to fill her eyes.
“Sir…” She whispered, then she looked in her teacher’s eyes and saw the concern, “No.”
Aizawa’s frown deepened. The poor girl looked like she was two seconds away from bursting out in tears. He put his hand on Ami’s shoulder and guided her to sit on the floor.
“Ami,” Aizawa pushed gently, “What’s going on?”
“Sir..” The word came out watery. As watery as her deep, brown eyes currently were. “My dad doesn’t love me.”
As she said that, hot tears spilled out of her eyes.
What she said next really made Aizawa worry.
“And I don’t know what I did to make him hate me.”
“Ami-” Aizawa started but was cut off by the girl's turmoil of emotions.
“I’ve always tried my hardest. In everything. But after I was born, he stopped loving my mom. And I don’t know what I did.”
“Ami.” Aizawa’s voice was firmer this time.
Ami didn’t stop, “I’m so unlovable sir. I feel so dirty and rotten and like I don’t deserve to love or to live-”
“Ami!” That was the sharpest tone Ami had ever heard from Aizawa. The real, strict teacher-dad tone, “I never- never want to hear you speak about yourself like that again.”
Suddenly, Ami felt arms wrapping around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. She couldn’t stop the next flow of tears as she threw her arms around her teacher and sobbed into his shirt.
“None of those things are true.” Aizawa reassured the student who was clinging to him like a lifeline. “It’s not your fault your father is incapable of genuine love. I’ve seen the way you interact with your classmates. If you are full of anything and deserving of anything, it is love.”
Ami broke down again. Aizawa had done in five minutes what her parents failed to do in fifteen years.
Aizawa was right, Ami was deserving of love. Love that she was receiving from her classmates and her teacher. And as Ami melted into Aizawa’s embrace, she realized that maybe, just maybe the warm embrace of the people who loved her made the bathroom floor tiles a little less cold.