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“Why did I agree to this?”
“Technically, Aizawa, we didn’t have a choice.”
“The next time All Might suggests something to Nezu, we step in and stop him.”
“Agreed.”
“Seconded!”
“Thirded!”
“Wha-?! Midnight, get out! You’re supposed to be supervising the girls!” There’s a cackle before the tent flaps shift, Midnight going back to her role of helping Recovery Girl keep the girls safe as they wash off in the stream.
Not because of bears or other dangers in the wild, but because there were no walls. And they were camping. Out in nature. Not too far from the camp where the boys also had their tents set up.
As much as the teachers trusted most of the students, there were one or two who might try peeking, so Midnight was on guard to makes sure they didn’t get close enough to see anything the girls didn’t consent to.
Her departure left Aizawa, Kan, and Yamada crammed into a tent meant for two. Ironically, the one who had suggested “camping in the great outdoors for class bonding!” wasn’t actually there. Yagi Toshinori, the one who had landed them in this situation, was taking over lessons for those that weren’t permitted to come.
“Kan, get yer elbow out of my ribs!”
“Get your knee out of my back.”
“I ain’t got enough room to move over!”
“You’re shouting in my ear!” Sighing, Aizawa sits up in his sleeping bag and cast a glance out the side of the tent like he’s looking into the camera. He’s expecting to be met with the orange canvas and nothing else. He’s not expecting to see what looks like candlelight and a couple of shadows sneak past.
“... I’m going to check on the boys.”
“Fine, but I’m stealing your space. Yamada’s trying to stab me with his bony limbs.”
“You’re crushing me under your VERY HEAVY BUTTOCKS.” Head ringing from Yamada’s quirk, Aizawa slinks out the tent, grumbling under his breath about the sleeping arrangements.
Maybe he can put some of the naughty students in there for punishment and steal their spot in the student tents. Two birds, one stone. No offence, Tokoyami.
Firstly, instead of running off instead in the surrounding area with no clue where to find the runaways, he has to work out who they are. That’ll give him an idea of where to go. Towards the river to alert Midnight of potential peepers, or towards the nearest town.
If he has to suffer, so do the brats. He can’t just let them run off back to civilisation without him. He heads towards the first tent, a low-level lamp giving it a warm glow, the boys inside talking quietly amongst themselves as they’re tucked into their sleeping bags. Aizawa sighs, crouching down.
“Are you all decent?” There’s a small shriek from someone he startled, and the rest of the boys laugh at whoever it was before the tent flap is pulled back by Midoriya.
“Yep! Is it our turn for the stream, sensei?”
“Not yet. I’m just checking everyone is still here.” Midoriya makes a face of confusion, glancing around at the others in the tent. From Class B, there’s Kaibara, Shoda, and Honenuki. From General studies, Shinsou sits in the middle of the tent, making shadows on the side of the tent with his hands.
From Class A… He can only see Midoriya, but there’s two full sleeping bags and he’s presuming that one is Tokoyami and the other is Satou. They’re certainly the right sizes. He’s proved correct when Dark Shadow pokes above one of the sleeping bags.
Honestly though, this isn’t the tent he was worried about. The boys in this tent are the least of his concerns. The second tent has him concerned, and the third tent makes him want to quit his job. He can hear them shouting and rioting from here and decides to leave them until last.
“Present Mic and Blood King will come and get you when it’s your turn to bathe. Until then… Keep an eye out for anyone sneaking out.” Midoriya salutes with a smile, turning back to his conversation and shadow puppet show with Shinsou and the Class B boys.
Aizawa moves to the second of the boys tent, taking a deep breath to channel his inner zen before he ‘knocks’ on the tarp and asks the same question about being decent.
“We’re good!” He pulls back the flap, and blinks. Something hangs from the pole at the top of the tent, completely wrapped in Sero’s tape - they must have borrowed him from tent 3.
“Is that- Is that Mineta?” None of the others even glance up, having been talking - or more likely - debating, and flicking tiny paper swans at each other.
“Yeah. He was talking about going and perving on the girls, so we got Sero to put him up there.” Silently, Aizawa is proud of their decision. It’ll keep the girls safe from Mineta’s prying eyes and despicable leering. His eyes brush over the occupants.
Ojiro, Iida, Todoroki, Shouji, Mineta, and…
“Another question. Where’s Monoma?” Todoroki shrugs, Ojiro averts his eyes though his tail flicks guiltily, Shouji is suddenly very good at pretending to sleep, and Iida… Iida has some of Sero’s tape over his mouth.
“I’m not mad, I just need to know where you buried the body.” They’re still not talking, and Aizawa sighs. He pulls the tape off Iida’s mouth, knowing he’s the only one who’ll spill the secret, a responsible young man who respects his teachers.
“Monoma said he was tired of living the peasant life since his parents forced him on this trip and took a torch to find somewhere more adequate to his tastes!”
“Thank you, Iida.” That must mean the runaways are attempting to go to town, but he still needs to know who the second person was. And that meant… He stands up, telling Tent 2 to start getting their wash bags ready, and looks despairingly towards Tent 3.
Whoever had thought it was a good idea to put Bakugou, Kaminari, Sero, Kirishima, and Tetsutetsu in the same tent was seriously asking to be fired.
Fortunately, one of the girls who was also on the trip - Hatsume Mei - had created some functional bracelets that restrained Bakugou’s explosions to manageable sizes. They would also drop off at a single command, not wanting to risk his safety.
“Are you all decent…?”
“If by that you mean wearing shirts, then no, Kirishima and Tetsutetsu are not.” Sero’s head pops out through a small gap in the zip-up part of the tent, wriggling his arms out to put under his head.
“Hey, nice night, huh, sensei?” Aizawa deadpan stares at him until Sero’s grin weakens just a little.
“... Who’s missing and where are they?”
“That would be a violation of the trust that’s been placed me.”
“I’m overriding it with my authority.”
“We’re testing our ability to work together in the instance we get interrogated.” Aizawa presses his fingers to his forehead, closing his eyes for a pained second.
These kids… It doesn’t help that Sero is drawing excuses from the lessons being taught at U.A. He can’t exactly punish the kid for listening in class and applying it to real life situations, like they were encouraged to.
Luckily, Aizawa has a method of finding out who’s missing without excuses blocking the way. He listens. Bakugou’s voice is muffled, someone’s hand over his mouth, and there’s shushing, which is impossible to tell who it is, if not for one thing.
Bakugou sets off his quirk, restrained explosions flashing in their tent, and Aizawa can hear the distinctive boom of it against Kirishima’s hardened skin, and Tetsutetsu’s metal. He grins underneath his scarf, opening the eye with the scar underneath.
“Sero, where’s Kaminari?”
“Geh…” He grimaces, taken aback by Aizawa’s entirely accurate deduction, and there’s a scream of “abort mission, abort mission!” as Sero is grabbed by the ankles and dragged back into the tent, the zip dragged down to the bottom.
“I can punish you for restraining information, boys. Not to mention it could be dangerous if we don’t supervise everyone. What if something happened to Kaminari and we would have no idea?” A moment of silence.
“I fuckin’ told you, idiots.”
“It’s just the corner shop, it’s not that dangerous.”
“Kirishima!”
“Oops! Pretend you didn’t hear that, sensei!” He grins, trying to hide back a huff of amusement. So now, he not only knows what direction Monoma and Kaminari are heading in, but exactly where they’re going.
“Of course. You four get your wash bags ready. Present Mic or Blood King will come and get you in a moment.” He waits until they agree, and then walks off down the hill, tugging his scarf up to hide his grin.
These kids are idiots, but he really does love them. He’s somewhat reluctant to admit he would adopt them in a heartbeat.
The evening air around him seems much cooler than it was a half hour ago, the sun low in the sky and painting colours from east to west. A slight breeze rustles the grass, making flowers dance and leaves cascade from the trees. It’s relaxing to get back to nature, Aizawa thinks.
He’ll have to appreciate late on his night watch shift. Right now, he has two troublemakers to track down and drag back to their camp-out. Since they’re situated at the top of a hill, he uses the gentle slope to assist his speed-walking down towards the small town below, the one with a shop right at the base of the hill.
That must undeniably be where the runaways are located. He peers in through the glass, smirking when he catches a glance of Monoma reading the information on the back of a food packet, dropping it into his basket. Kaminari is flicking through the magazine section, tons of sweets in his arms.
Well… They didn’t make any rules against bringing food, so Aizawa can’t confiscate it. Still, he can give them the shock of their lives, no pun intended with Kaminari involved. He moves out of sight, round the corner of the shop doors, and prepares the bandages he keeps around his neck.
“-can’t believe you brought all that junk.”
“It’s not junk, it’s sweets!”
“It’s a subscription to Diabetes Daily.”
“I’ll have you know that-!” Kaminari cuts off with a scream, Monoma’s joining his as they’re suddenly captured, familiar white bandages wrapped around them and the inability to use their quirks. Aizawa smirks at the incredibly high-pitched shrieks.
“Ready to come back, boys?”
“Ye-Yes, Sensei...” Kaminari’s squeak precedes Monoma’s groan.
“Don’t make me go back there, please. It’s so uncouth! Houses were built for a reason!” Rolling his eyes, Aizawa trusts Kaminari to follow him back to the campsite, but Monoma is kept tightly restrained as he wails ‘even the dorms are better than this!’
As they get back to camp, the girls - accompanied by Midnight and Recovery Girl, are just heading back to their own tents, ready to settle down for the night. Kaminari grins and jogs forwards, waving one hand whilst the other carries the bag of sweets.
“Mina! Uraraka! Tsuyu!”
“Denki!” Waving her arms, Ashido bounces over immediately, all sunshine and rainbows in her bright, yellow pyjamas. Uraraka and Asui share a glance and grin before strolling over too, where Kaminari is already handing Ashido packets of sweets with strict instructions and a list.
“What’s all that for, kero?”
“Kirishima gave me a ton of money and a list of everyone’s favourite! Dunno how he got it, but here’s the girls bunch!” Kaminari pulls a smaller bag out of the original bag, also filled with sweet treats.
“Sweet!” Uraraka muffles a laugh at Ashido’s cheerful, unintentional pun. Peering into the bag as Asui takes it, she makes a sound of surprise at the list at the top. The chicken-scrawl handwriting covers every girl at camp, not just Class A.
“How did Kirishima get Class B, Eri, and Hatsume’s favourites too?” Kaminari shrugs.
“Beats me. I think he talks to that, uh, Pon-... Ponei?” Fed up with being quiet too long, Monoma scoffs.
“Honestly, is Class A really so thick-headed they can’t remember our names? Her name is Pony Tsunotori.” He gets deadpan stares from the four Class A students, and it’s only when he lifts an eyebrow that Asui voices her opinion.
“You can actually be decent. That’s surprising.”
“Surpri-?! I know I’m an asshole, but that’s only to you detestable Class A! Thinking you're so much better than us! Flaunting off to villains and drawing in troub-” Out of absolutely nowhere, a hand chops against his neck, knocking him out but catching him by the scruff of his collar as he collapses.
“Sorry~. He says things like that a lot.” Kendo smiles and holds up her free hand in apology, dragging Monoma over to the boy’s 2nd tent and giving them fair warning before dropping Monoma half-in the doorway. Aizawa pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Alright, I’ve seen enough. Girls, get to your tents. If you need anything, Midnight and Recovery Girl are in the purple staff tent. There’ll be one of us on watch at any point, but try not to leave your tents otherwise.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Kaminari… Drop off those sweets and then try to get the rest of your tent out.” The kids disperse and Aizawa finds himself dreading the upcoming event of three teachers trying to control eighteen boys bathing in a stream.
Especially when they all had individual quirks, often clashed in places, and one of them was trying to escape to civilisation. Aizawa understood the feeling, he really did.
Honestly, why All Might would suggest a camping bonding trip when the training camp had been so disastrous was a mystery. Why Nezu approved it was even more of a mystery. They’d only recovered from the mission to save Eri.
His eyes slide over to where the shy, young girl is sitting nervously in the opening of the pink tent. She’d been allowed to chose which one she slept in, whereas the students had been allocated randomly. Understandably, she’d picked the tent where Uraraka was assigned to, since Uraraka had been the first other girl she had ever spoken to and befriended.
Ah. Maybe that was why Nezu approved the camp out. Not just for the students to bond, but to emotionally connect to each other and recover in ways more than just physical.
“SHOUTA, TIME TO GO!”
“... Use your quirk one more time, Hizashi, and I am going to forbid it.”
“What, are you like my mother or something?”
“No, but I can erase quirks.” Present Mic remains tight-lipped for a good half hour, long enough for all the boys to wash, despite the many incidents of dunking each other, playing chicken, and Todoroki creating a small ice-wave at Sero’s request to use as a slide.
By the time they boys are corralled together, dried and changed into pyjamas, weariness and fatigue is beginning to set in. Some are more tired than others, and Aizawa expects they’ll wake up again with the sugar rush from all the sweets Kaminari brought.
Shame, he was hoping they’d go straight to sleep.
“I’m not taking first watch.”
“Dibs not me.” With Aizawa and Kan voting themselves out, and the other teachers already tucked away in their sleeping bags (presumably), there’s only one left. Aizawa and Kan turn to Hizashi with matching smirks and the man gulps.
“Me? Watch over sugar-hyped kids? Eighteen of them?”
“Plus the girls.” It takes Hizashi a moment to count it out on his fingers. His eyes widen.
“TWENTY FOUR KIDS?!?! And one’s invisible!!” Snickering, the adults hold up a hand each to bid him goodnight and then settle into their teachers tents. Present Mic tried to hold back an audible groan. Keyword; Tried.
Present Mic might be a pro hero with numerous victories under his belt, but then again, villains have never been twenty four kids on an unbelievable amount of sugar, brimming with energy and running amok at a campsite.
Even little Eri comes out of her shell, toasting marshmallows with Uraraka, Tsuyu, Hagakure, and Kendo, giggling away as Todoroki makes the fire dance in small shapes that amuse her, quite happy just to help the girls melt their marshmallows whilst Shinsou melts chocolate in a metal bowl and Iida tries to find the crackers brought for this purpose. Because no camping trip would be complete without s’mores.
Present Mic relents after a while, perching himself on a fallen log to watch, only intervening if things look dangerous, because hell, they’re here to have fun. It’s entertaining to watch them too, and he grins as wide as possible when he notices Bakugou blending in with a small smile, like he’s never had trouble interacting with the class at all.
Within an hour, the sugar seems to be wearing off, or everyone’s just tired themselves out. Students have been trickling away back to their tents for the hour, but when Eri falls asleep, slumped against Kendo’s side with chocolate and marshmallow smeared around her mouth, that seems to be the moment everyone unanimously decides without talking that it’s bedtime.
“Okay, Kiddos, time to sleep!” Clapping his hands, Present Mic sees the last of them slink off to bed. Mineta attempts to sneak off to the girls tents, but Iida quickly retrieves him and pushes him forcefully back towards their tent, whilst Ojiro asks if they can borrow Sero for a moment. Again.
It doesn’t take long for the campsite to fall silent, and whilst Present Mic usually hates the quiet, he takes this moment to savour it. From this vantage point on top of the hill, he can see towns and cities in the distance, golden glow from street lights and windows and neon signs against a backdrop of pitch black.
The same greets him up above, stars in the sky and even the odd swirl of a galaxy visible on such a clear night. Present Mic doesn’t know how long he watches the stars for, so long that he puts his earphones in and goes through half his playlist, but something disturbs him.
Something just feels wrong. Not wrong in the villainous sense, but wrong as in something wasn’t in place. The fire was still going, there was no disturbance from the forest and stream area, all the students were asleep and-
Wait.
All the students were asleep? Then why was there a candle lit…?
He sits up, looking at tent three of the boys side of camp. He thinks he can just about make out a silhouette, but he can’t tell who it is. He can’t call out, either, because he knows he can’t control the volume of his normal voice unless he has someone to match. He pops out his earphones in case they call over to him, knowing there’s a teacher on duty.
Just as he’s debating getting up and poking whoever’s taking the next watch awake so they can ask, the silhouette moves and there’s the distinct sound of the tent unzipping, slowly and cautiously. The candle is blown out, and the shadow moves over to Present Mic.
“I can’t sleep.” At first, he thinks the campfire casts a rusty glow over Sero, but then he realises this person’s hair is crimson, not fire-glow over black. He forgot Kirishima’s hair went flat in the stream.
Shuffling over, Present Mic pats the spot next to him, and the teeenager - clutching his pillow to his chest almost desperately - gives him a tiny wobbly smile before sitting down. Present Mic wraps an arm over his shoulders to keep him warm, sensing the oncoming shivers.
“What’s wrong, buddy?” Kirishima’s face falls, a haunted expression in his eyes, tension and stress bleeding into the creases of his skin. His voice strains.
“I just… Can’t sleep.”
“... I’d know that expression anywhere. Nightmares, huh?” The student only curls in on himself more, and Present Mic realises his nails are digging into his arms, not the pillow. Gently, he tries to pry Kirishima’s fingers away.
“Hey, hey… C’mon, don’t do that to yourself…”
“How can I not? It’s- It’s the least of what I deserve…” Taken back, Present Mic blinks. Fury floods him, not at Kirishima, but because of what he’s suffering. The defeated tone of his voice is more like that of a pro hero on the verge of giving up, not a young, spritely, and motivated hero-in-training. He takes a second to control his volume, making himself sound firmer without getting louder.
“You don’t deserve it. Kirishima, you- hey, c’mon, listen to me, yeah? You did your best. Sometimes, that’s all a hero can do. But y’know what? You did your best and won.”
“I didn’t though!” Water filled eyes turn to him, the bags under them dark and heavy, and Present Mic wonders if this is really the same boy who was laughing just hours ago, running around with friends, giving Eri a piggyback, and sent Kaminari off with money and list of everyone’s favourite sweets.
He looks like a whole new person when no one else is around, like he’s crumbling and cracking and the trauma of what he’s been through emerges. Present Mic pulls him a little closer, letting the student rest against him as he sniffles.
“I didn’t… I wasn’t a hero… I didn’t win… I broke, Sensei… I broke and Fatgum saved me and Midoriya saved Eri and I wasn’t needed at all. If anything, I was a hindrance.”
“That’s not how Fatgum tells it. He insists you saved his life, buddy. You went beyond the line of duty, used yourself a shield to save him and let him build up the final attack. Kirishima, you are a hero.”
“I’m not…” No one else would have picked it up, but Present Mic is a master of sounds, and the whispered words into his thick leather jacket, clouded with emotions and tears ready to spill, are audible to him.
But… He doesn’t know what to say. If his attempts at motivation are just making the kid feel worse, how else is he supposed to convince Kirishima that it’s okay to not be okay, that being a hero is more than just getting away unscathed? He rubs his hand up and down Kirishima’s shivering, scarred arm, covered in goosebumps and discoloured from where he was literally skinned alive-
It’s sickening to think about. A 15 year old child, having his skin ripped off in chunks, flesh literally torn away as he kept hardening and hardening, sacrificing layers of his own body, muscles and fat and tissues shredded away by consecutive punches until he passed out from blood loss and pain combined.
Fatgum hadn’t skipped any details when he gave the report in the staff meeting at U.A, and 13 had even had to leave the room to be sick. Honestly, Present Mic had been pretty close to leaving too, and Aizawa had paled, having seen his student in the near-dead condition, but not knowing exactly how it had happened.
It’s no wonder the poor kid is scarred and traumatized, hunted by nightmares and doubting himself below the surface. Kirishima must be so tired…
“Try and sleep, yeah? I’ll be here, I’ll wake you up if you start getting fidgety.”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Even if you just close your eyes for a bit, ‘kay? We got a big hike tomorrow, you’re gonna need to rest.” Kirishima hums under his breath, and Present Mic doesn’t expect it when the pillow he’s clutching is suddenly on his lap, and then Kirishima shuffles to lie down, resting his head on the pillow.
“... Comfy?” The boy makes a noncommittal noise, but he doesn’t move. Slowly, unsurely, Present Mic puts a hand on his hair, and ruffles it. There’s a content sigh, and he realises that maybe, Kirishima just needs a little comforting in this traumatic, troubling time of his life.
“Close your eyes. You’re safe here.” It takes a while for Kirishima to relax, but plenty of affection and hair-petting does the job, tension leaking from his scarred, ragged limbs. He must be more than exhausted, because it’s not long after relaxing that he finally falls asleep.
Present Mic smiles a little, the boy breathing softly on his lap, curled up next to him. If he ever had a son, he thinks, it would probably be a little like this. More movement catches his ears, shuffling and a groggy groan.
He knows Aizawa’s voice anywhere though. And as much as the man likes to sleep anywhere and everywhere, he never sleeps for long. The teachers tent shuffles, and Aizawa crawls out a tiny unzipped part of the tent, rubbing at his back. Kan must have rolled over and crushed him at some point.
“Yo.” Present Mic holds up his hand in greeting, and Aizawa freezes on the spot, eyes noticeably wide. He points at Kirishima in silent question, and Present Mic grins as he rests the flat of his hand over Kirishima’s floppy, long hair
“Shh, he’s sleeping~.”