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“Aizawa-kun,” All Might’s voice has always been so tremulous and imperceptible? Shōta doesn’t seem to be able to find an answer on his own. (Has he ever pronounced his surname in that oh, so gentle way? Shōta doesn’t remember.) Shōta turns to look at his coworker, sitting comfortably onto his chair, at his desk – that day, the sleep is not scheduled into his ‘TO DO’ list.
“Yes, All Might-san?”
The staff room is empty at that hour, he and All Might are the only two teachers isolated inside those four walls when the bell rings for the lunch-break. They’re alone – they shouldn’t care of the useless formalities, but the school is not the right place for first-name basis. Even though, every now and then, they go out to drink in a cramped bar or into the oddly-modest house of All Might, Shōta has never been ready to say goodbye to the old, good manners – call it a habitude, but Shōta finds hard to leave everything behind him (and it’s not only about those honorifics).
All Might walks towards him, and, when he’s at some centimeters of distance from him, he shrinks as if it helps himself to become smaller and smaller, making that childish things with his index fingers as he pointes them against one another, poking. He seems embarrassed, Shōta notices and hopes that he’s not there to advance any kind of weird question made by their students – All Might would prefer to cut his own arm himself instead of say ‘no’ to those brats’ wishes. Training with All Might using quirks? Out of discussion, Shōta has made it clear that same morning.
“I may be here to ask you something – it’s about Shinsou Hitoshi,” the taller man resumes, without breaking eye-contact with Shōta, who is taken back by that kind of topic, but he’s not surprised at all. After all, many teachers had tried to approach him on that same matter – what a pain. However, All Might is not so bold to come there, imposing his opinion on the boy’s future, thus, Shōta decides that the man in front of him deserves something more than him rolling his eyes to the ceiling with a grunt.
That is, because Shōta is educated and respects his colleague (or at least, he has learned to), he takes off his reading-glasses, sets aside his red pen and takes a break from grading. All Might stands still, breathing in deeply, probably knowing that he will probably have to flee from the scene, defeated. Despite the premises, and the incoming talk, All Might’s eyes drifts from the teacher’s face to the glasses laying at the top of the pile of papers. After a moment of contemplation, he’s looking at Shōta again.
“I’ve already said it to the other, but since you all seem to be pretty dense on the matter, I don’t mind repeating myself,” Shōta begins, frowning, “Shinosu has all he need to become a great hero – that is, I’d like to give him a chance to become a student of class A.”
All Might widens his eyes and tries to hold back a little smile, failing – he looks perplexed as if he’s not understanding why Shōta is talking about something like that, but his expression is reassuring and pleased. Suddenly, he points at Shōta with both his fingers, in a gun-like pose, “it’s not what I wanted to talk about, but I agree. Completely.”
“Oh?” Yeah, oh – what else could he want from Shinsou if not to discuss his admission into the 2A? There isn’t any other business regarding that particular student that needs All Might’s time. What could he want from Shinsou?
Shōta raises his eyebrows, making a face: what else is he hiding?
“It’s about Midoriya,” All Might clarify as soon as possible, but Shōta seems more lost than ever. “Midoriya would like to know a little information about Shinsou,” he explains as he starts touching the back of his neck with his broad hand, blushing slightly. Shōta grimaces: this is not due to the weather – it’s winter, they’re freezing. Is the former Symbol of Peace timid or he’s aware of how weird he’s looking right now?
“What is it?” As a teacher, Shōta can't spread any rumor about his students – all the information is under privacy restriction. But All Might almost looks so lost and cute, like a kitten trying to hide the mess he’s done when the owner was not around – almost. The kitten would be smarter, Shōta believes.
He wanted to talk with him just because he wants to help a student (his favorite, nonetheless), careless of Shōta’s reaction. The less that Shōta can do to reward his bravery is to show clemency – at least, he wants to avoid scolding the older man. Just give him a chance, he thinks. He’s not sure he will answer, though – it depends from many aspects: the way All Might will form his question, the language he’d use and the concept of said question. There are only two possible results: promoted or rejected (and not honey in his favorite tea the day after).
All Might sighs, breathing deeply once again and with it, Shōta can hear the menace of a rattle coming from the man’s chest, “Midoriya would like to know if – Shinsoy has a --- love interest of any sort for--- someone.”
“Rejected,” Shōta doesn’t say anything more than that and putting back the glasses, he’s back to his grading, unlike someone else there.
Oh, so, the problem child is now learning about his preferences, uh? It’d be so easy to confess that Shinsou does have a love interest, and it happens to be the green, dumb boy of the 1A. This would make All Might happy – the boy too, but, as a teacher, he can’t spill the tea with a colleague on such a ridiculous matter: their students’ romantic interest is not their concern. All Might must learn to mind his own business – Midoriya is too smart and shy to even consider the idea to ask something like this to Shōta himself.
“I beg you pardon…?” All Might, though, doesn’t seem to understand it, but he’s clearly puzzled by that strange answer. “Are you talking about me or Midoriya?”
“You,” Shōta uses to grade his students’ papers while Mic screams and shout as a strangled nightingale: in comparison, All Might is nothing, at the moment. (Or maybe it’s because he’s already used to grade listening to the other teacher’s rambling). “Midoriya is not so bold to ask something like this to a teacher – he is not so much of a coward to send someone else to ask this on his account,” Midoriya would never ask for All Might’s help for something like this. “You’re promoted as ‘new hyper-protective father of the year’, but you failed all the other fields,” okay, now. It’s not the time for those jokes – they’re not out of the school yet, but it’s late to take it back.
“And you’d be the authoritarian father? My husband?” All Might talks back, smiling mockingly in a way Shōta doesn’t recall at all.
There is not an ulterior motive hidden behind those words, isn’t it? All Might is definitely not hitting on him, in the staff room, moreover. He is too old to even remember how to flirt with someone – it’s certainly something he’d heard about from Hashido and her blabbing.
“Midnight would make a perfect bride for you,” because All Might is the former Number One, and everyone would imagine him with a beautiful and young woman at his side, not an underground hero like Shōta. A person like him, who’s usually mistaken as a homeless guy, would never be able to stand at someone like All Might’s side. Shōta is not the person you imagine Yagi Toshinori to walk hand in hand with. The Symbol of Peace with a man? Ugh. Never! What a shame!
“Never been interested in her,” All Might admits, grinning, amused and visibly holding back a cough as to not ruin the atmosphere. Still, it becomes too much for him to avoid and ends up leaning forward, booming into his fist, without spilling any blood, luckily.
The question hangs between them: is he really flirting with Shōta? No! It can’t be! He’s just joking like the old jerk he is, as if Shōta is one of those journalists he likes to fool around with during interviews. He’s sure, All Might adores to play around with Shōta, even though most of the time, the younger man is drunk, and he has no idea what All Might is talking about while he takes him back home. But this time? This time Shōta is not drunk, he’s a perfectly functioning human and can join All Might in – whatever he’s speaking of.
Two can play this game.
Shōta uses his free hand to raise his scarf, covering his mouth with hit and the tip of his freezing noes, “that’s what happens when you propose to someone without even asking him out for a date, old man. You can’t even call me by my first name,” he says. He does remember last Friday when they went to that fancy bar with Mic and the others, and his drunk-self had called All Might ‘old man’ in front of everyone, but after that, everything is blanc. He’s not sure All Might appreciates it.
But now, really, it’s not meant to be a pick-up line of any sort! Really! Shōta wants to make the man smile after the sudden cough, and the man does smile when he finally recovers from it, lifting his head, but there is something strange in the way All Might is blushing and the sunny smile.
“I think I can make up for it, Shōta-kun.”