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Aizawa was getting real tired of living in the dorms. Unfortunately, it was a necessity. One couldn’t just put twenty teenagers into a building that had both running water and a stove and not install adult supervision. Aizawa loathed to think of what would have happened to his students if he hadn’t been there to stoically put out fires and deal out detentions for accidentally causing the fourth power outage that week.
There were upsides. The most prevalent of which being that he could steal their leftovers and not live entirely on takeout and jelly packets. The kids had worked out a cooking and grocery shopping schedule all on their own so Aizawa didn’t even have to force them to keep the fridge stocked. And, there was a surprisingly large number of adequate cooks in the dorm (30%).
Bakugou in particular usually cooked for two weeks at a time instead of just one because he had so many different recipes he was able to work through. The second week, as far as Aizawa could figure, was supposed to be Kirishima’s turn. But every time Kirishima even stepped into the kitchen with the intent to cook Bakugou was on his heels grumbling about nutrition and seasoning.
Aizawa had found out the hard way, that even though Bakugou was a phenomenal cook, you had to be wary of anything in the fridge that looked just a little bit too red. Because that usually meant that he had suddenly gotten tired of sharing his leftovers and had heaped an ungodly amount of hot sauce onto it so that only he, and possibly the devil, could stomach eating it.
After Bakugo the sliding scale of people in the dorms who were allowed to cook went as follows.
At the very bottom was what Aizawa mentally referred to as ‘the clueless rich kids club’. This included Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, Iida, and Aoyama. Yaoyorozu and Iida could probably cook if they put their minds to it because they were fairly good at following directions, but the first time they had tried was one of the times that Aizawa had to get out the fire extinguisher, which automatically banned them from the kitchen. Aoyama and Todoroki had just mutually decided that they weren’t even going to try and learn how to cook and simply depended on their more capable classmates to not starve to death on weekends. Aizawa could respect that as he had basically taken the same path.
Above the rich kids club, but still not allowed in the kitchen under any circumstances, was the forgetful gang. The forgetful gang had the potential to be good at cooking, but as per their namesake, often forgot that they were cooking and ended up horrendously overcooking whatever they were trying to make. This group was made up of Ashido, who always wandered out into the common room to gossip with whoever was there while water was boiling and came back to an empty pot, Kaminari, who could stand right next to the meat he was attempting to brown and zone out long enough to not notice when it was charred remains instead of anything even slightly edible, and Hagakure, who had once left a spoon in a pot so long that it melted and no one realized she had left because she was invisible .
Quickly followed up by the forgetful gang was Mineta, who one) was so short he couldn't reach anything in the kitchen, and two) had whined so loudly over being forced to cook that the entire class unanimously decided that they didn’t want to deal with him.
After that, there was the ‘I’m much better at baking’ crew that was made up of Satou, Uraraka, and surprisingly Tokoyami. These people were allowed a pass on cooking dinners because they supplied dessert. Satou’s specialty was cakes and sweetbreads, Uraraka had a phenomenal homemade mochi recipe (that Aizawa may or may not have stolen an entire container of to put in the staff room for all the teachers one time), and Tokoyami could make anything that involved dark chocolate taste like it had come from the heavens.
After that was the ‘I totally could cook, but (insert excuse here)’ group of people. All the members of this group had wildly different reasons for not being a part of the rotating schedule that the students had put together. Jirou insisted that standing around hot pans made her ear jacks hurt. Kouda got incredibly anxious in the kitchen if anyone was in the common room. Shouji argued that his multiple limbs made him clumsy in such a small space.
When all of these groups were taken out of the pool for making dinner there remained only six students who carried the burden of feeding the class on a regular basis. Kirishima was included in this group, because he was actually pretty adept in the kitchen even if his food came out slightly burnt, however, Bakugou had pretty much removed him from the schedule by pure force of will.
Ojiro had similar skills to Kirishima, he could follow directions and make the large amounts of food that one needed to feed twenty mouths but he lacked any finesse. Asui was slightly better than him, her food was similarly boring but somehow in a more acceptable way that was bred from years of cooking for her picky younger siblings. After her there was the big three of cooking.
(This, of course, excluded Lunch Rush, the person who most commonly supplied dinner to the whole of the population that ate dinner on UA grounds, but who had a non-negotiable weekends off policy, leaving the students of 1A to fend for themselves on weekends with a rotating schedule of six students.)
In third place was Sero. He rivaled Bakugou with how flavorful his food was, however he had an incredibly small repertoire of recipes and therefore fell below both of his competitors. Bakugou came in first because of his diverse recipe book and ability to use more than three spices.
Aizawa, however, actually preferred stealing leftovers of the number two chef in the dorms. Midoriya had clearly learned to cook from his mother. Sero and Bakugou were both good, but they were mostly self-taught. They checked and double-checked things and were precise about what they were doing. In contrast, Midoriya moved through the kitchen like he was in a dream, he barely used actual measurements and only decided on what he was going to make for the class after looking in the fridge for what was available, rather than buying ingredients beforehand.
Midoriya’s cooking just had a homely taste to it that neither Bakugou or Sero could beat. This was why, when Aizawa returned from his late night patrol, carefully scheduled when even the night owls of the class were asleep and therefore couldn’t cause trouble, he pushed aside a few tupperware before grabbing his after shift dinner. A spike of fondness lit up his chest as he put the tupperware in the microwave. The lid of the container had a piece of green masking tape on top of it labeled with ‘fried rice’ in Midoriya’s neat handwriting.
Aizawa ate his stolen leftovers in silence at one of the common room tables. He basked in the serenity of a quiet night for once in this fucking life. It seemed like every other week his class was getting pulled into some bullshit, or starting their own bullshit, or Aizawa was getting into some bullshit. Tonight, however, was blessedly calm. He had finished an uneventful patrol, he was eating his favorite leftovers, and all of the students were asleep in their beds resting.
It was then that Aizawa heard the faint sound of a treadmill running. He paused, the chopsticks he was using to wolf down his food held aloft in front of his face as he tilted his head to the side to listen. There, underneath the air conditioning and the faint buzz of the lights that Aizawa had turned on, was the distinct sound of a pair of feet running.
They were running fast too. Aizawa sighed and went back to eating. If he listened carefully he could vaguely make out the sound of whoever was on the treadmill talking to themselves, or maybe they were listening to music and they were singing. It was impossible for him to tell until he ventured downstairs into the gym that resided in the dorm’s basement to find out.
*
Midoriya Izuku was not the type of person that one would clock as having insomnia. He was bright and chipper in the mornings, he didn’t like caffeinated drinks, he was, for the lack of a better word, bouncy. His friends thought that when he retreated to his room at ten every night that he was going to sleep so that he could wake up obnoxiously early the next day and share his determined energy with the rest of the class.
This was untrue. When Izuku retreated to his room he closed the door behind himself and sat at his desk until midnight double-checking his homework out of anxiety. He had gotten into UA on pure luck, but he was going to stay there because of hard work. If that meant he had to reread his English essay five times before he felt satisfied with the grammar then that was what he did.
He sat at his desk checking his homework or getting ahead on homework or studying for tests that were weeks away, all the while bouncing his knee and trying not to think about all the things he did wrong that day and all the things he could have done better.
Around midnight he usually forced himself to brush his teeth and wash his face and plug in his phone and crawl into bed. Where he inevitably spent the next hour or so turning over everything he had ever said or done under a microscopic lens. Was he too forward in training today? Did he strong-arm his teammates in that exercise into his plan? Was he talking too much at lunch? What if he hadn't seen Eri that day? Could he have defeated Shigaraki that day at the mall? Was Todoroki doing okay? Should he work out more so that he could handle a higher percentage of one for all? Should he have put more salt in the fried rice? Was it really okay that he had stolen All Might’s quirk from other, better, people?
And then suddenly it was two in the morning and he was desperate to not be thinking anymore and he was doing push-ups on the floor of his room with shaking arms because despite his brain bouncing around in his skull at 70mph his body was still kinda tired.
And then it was three in the morning and he was doing sit-ups with his toes tucked under the space between the bottom of his dresser and the ground. And he was up to triple digits but keeping count wasn’t stopping the thoughts from pouring in.
And then it was four and he was browsing hero forums for information on a new up and coming pro who definitely needed a page in his journal. It was four and he was dragging his analysis notebook out of his backpack and scribbling in it with a fervor that only preachers and cultists had.
He usually confined himself to his room. He didn’t want to risk getting in trouble with Aizawa-sensei or bumping into one of his classmates and having to explain himself. Except tonight was different. Tonight he had already done push-ups and squats and a series of planks and he still felt like his bones were vibrating at such a frequency that they were going to phase out of his body.
So. Izuku found himself tiptoeing out of his room in his pajamas and running shoes at two in the morning so that he could sneak into the gym and run on the treadmill. And maybe he would practice some of his kicks, he still wasn’t great at those yet, and maybe since it was late, and everyone was asleep he could get away with practicing holding one for all at a certain percentage and maybe-
He got down to the gym. The door was locked. Izuku crouched down and stuck a bobby pin in the lock and managed to unlock it. He was both impressed with himself and disappointed. He picked the Treadmill in the corner farthest from the door and set it on one of the highest speeds. He ran.
Something about running had always been freeing for Izuku. He hadn’t done much of it when he was training with All Might. They had mostly focused on building strength so any running was with something heavy on his back or at an incline that made it hell on earth. Running like this, swift and easy, was better.
It was nicer outside, when he could feel the way the wind parted for him and see just how far he was going, but the treadmill was okay too. There was still that feeling of his foot connecting solidly with the ground beneath him, rolling from heel to toe in a second and then getting picked up again to catch up to his other leg. There was still pumping his arms and feeling his fingertips brush against his palms in the loose fists that he curled them into. There was still the way the air moved in and out of his lungs, every time a fresh breath that sent oxygen spiraling down to his working muscles. It was invigorating and easy but it was also thoughtless at this point.
Thirty minutes after he first started he had to turn the speed up again so that he didn’t keep thinking, and then again in the next ten minutes when his breathing became labored but his brain was moving just as fast and spouting out all of the things he had done wrong that day and the day before it and the day before that day and-
He ticked up the speed again. He couldn’t mumble to himself anymore because he was breathing so heavily. This, this was what he had come here for. He was finally out of his head. But apparently not out in the world because when a pale hand reached out and hit the stop button and the treadmill slowly came to a halt decreasing from the breakneck speed he had set it on to a jog and then a brisk walk it wasn’t until Iuzku realized that he was walking at a crawl that he realized there was another person in the gym.
He jerked his gaze away from the wall in front of him to the side, flicking some sweat off of his face and toward the person in the process, that lucky got swallowed up by the distance between them, to see Aizawa-sensei.
His mouth processed this before his head did. “Aizawa-sensei?!” he squeaked. The treadmill was completely still now. Izuku put a hand over his heart to try and still his heaving chest.
“Midoriya,” His teacher glared at him.
“Um-” Izuku tried to start telling his teacher some kind of explanation. The hand over his pounding heart had turned into a fist, pulling his pajama shirt tight around him.
“You’re not allowed to be in here past eight o’clock,” Aizawa explained blandly. He picked up his arm and looked at the black sleeve of his wrist before meeting his student’s eyes again, “It is seven hours past eight.”
All of the anxious and frantic energy that had kept Izuku awake until this point transformed into panic. “I- I’m sorry sir I didn’t- er, well- um- I’m- I’m sorry.” He couldn’t exactly say that he didn’t realize the time, because that was a blatant lie. He couldn’t say he didn’t know because of course, he knew about that rule he had taken notes on all the dorm rules when Aizawa went over them on their first day there. He absolutely couldn't explain that he couldn’t sleep because this was his homeroom teacher and it was Aizawa-sensei and if he started talking he was going to tell his favorite teacher that he picked the lock and that would get him much more detention than if Aizawa didn’t know that he had done that, Izuku was almost certain.
Aizawa sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “Go to bed Midoriya,” he told his student.
“Yes sir!” Midoriya yelped, taking the escape that his teacher had given him and sprinting out of the gym at perhaps a higher speed than he had ever reached on the treadmill.
He took the stairs in a vain hope to wring as much energy out of himself before he reached his bedroom. Each slap of his sneakers against the steps echoed around in the empty stairwell. The empty, cold, stairwell. Goosebumps rose up from Iuzku’s skin. His hand on the railing spasmed as a shiver passed through his body.
Like some kind of switch had been triggered he immediately started going over his interaction with his teacher in his head and criticizing every moment that had brought him to it. He should have just stayed in his room! He knew he wasn’t supposed to be in the gym so late and he even picked the lock! That was borderline criminal!! And Aizawa would give him detention and then he was totally going to realize that Izuku wasn’t working as hard as he could and expel him and then All Might would take back his quirk and give it to someone ten times better than Iuzku and-
Izuku stopped in front of the door that opened up onto his floor and tried to steady himself so that he didn’t wake up everyone in his hallway. He shook his hands out, trying to get rid of the tension that had gathered in them. He slipped into his room silently and paced around a few times before he kicked off his shoes and gently, because he still wasn’t trying to wake anyone up, threw himself on his bed and aggressively burrowed under the covers.
He would have to take a shower in a few hours. He was sweaty and the heat from his blankets wasn’t helping him cool off. Izuku struggled and turned onto his back so that he could stare at the ceiling and try and slow his breathing. His heartbeat was still amped up.
He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, his face contorting into a collection of creases and wrinkles. He counted down from one hundred in his head. He pretended that he was floating on his back in the ocean. He tried not to think about anything and just fall asleep .
In the end, he didn’t manage to fall asleep.
*
Aizawa brought his sleeping bag to every lesson. Mostly because he usually had another instructor with him and that guaranteed at least a few minutes of blessed sleep in between the brats asking him questions. Today, he has brought his sleeping bag with a different purpose in mind.
The class is gathered around him and Present Mic in a semicircle. Mina bounced up and down on her toes in excitement. Kirishima had an arm thrown around Bakugou and was rocking him side to side while whispering about how manly today’s lesson is going to be.
Aizawa’s face split into a terrifying grin. This was one of his favorite parts of being a teacher.
“We aren’t doing quirk training today,” he announced to the crowd. Multiple groans rang out across the training ground and Mina crossed her arms to pout at Sero who was looking unfathomably disappointed next to her. “We’re doing some physical fitness drills to make sure that all of you can still do the basic running and lifting alongside your special moves,” He explained, his grin only gets wider when he sees the blood drain from Mineta’s face.
Present Mic had that look on his face that he always got when he was trying not to laugh but didn’t want to be obvious about trying not to laugh. He clapped his hands twice, “Alright listeners!” he shouted, “Line up at the start of the track! We’re doing a mile!”
Aizawa’s eyes sharpened when he spotted Midoriya chatting with Uraraka and moving toward the starting line. His smile got impossibly wider and creepier.
“Not you Midoriya,” He called out. A sadistic spark of joy radiating through his chest as he watched Midoriya’s eyes widen at Uraraka before he turned to Aizawa.
“Um- w- why not sensei?” His student stuttered out. He had deep bags under his eyes that Aizawa was frankly shocked that none of his friends had pointed out. His fingers were running circles around each other due to his nervousness.
“Well,” Aizawa drawled, “I checked the treadmill that you ran on last night and saw that you managed to run much farther than the required mile without your quirk. As such, you can sit out of today's lesson as you are clearly doing much more than your fellow classmates to stay in shape.”
Bakugou made a noise that sounded like a growl. MIdoriya shook his head frantically.
“No, no that’s okay sir I’m fine with participating I- I’m sure I don’t do that much more than anyone else!” Midoriya said, his hands were now clutching his shirt. Aizawa wanted to laugh at his student's attempts to get out sitting out when around five other students would kill to be in his place. He held himself back because he refused to laugh in front of his class, ever.
“This is non-negotiable, Midoriya,” He told the problem child. “This is your punishment for breaking into the dorms after hours.”
Mina and a few other students let out a childish round of ‘oooooooohhhhs’ in response to this development. Midoriya paled further, making Aizawa’s menacing grin almost slip when it threw the child’s tired eyes into greater contrast with the rest of his face.
Midoriya trudged over to Aizawa and sat down on the bench behind him, throwing anxious and apologetic glances at Uraraka, Iida, and Todoroki as he went. By the time he was sitting his fear at being discovered had morphed into embarrassment and there was a growing blush on his face.
Now it was time for the final nail in the coffin. Aizawa threw his sleeping bag at Midoriya with enough force for there to be a sound of impact when it hit Midoriya’s face. Present Mic was biting his lip in his efforts not to explode into giggles. Aizawa felt proud of himself when his sleeping bag fell and revealed Midoriya’s shocked and incredulous face.
“Take a nap,” Aizawa demanded.
Izuku’s blush ramped up from a four to a ten in seconds and he waved his hands in front of his face. “N- no sensei. I’m fine I know I was up late but I’m fine I don’t need to-”
Aizawa cut his student off with a raised eyebrow. “That wasn’t a suggestion or a request.”
Mina and Present Mic simultaneously exploded into giggles. The rest of the class quickly joined in. Uraraka was floating off of the ground and holding her stomach, Iida’s hand gently grasping the sleeve of her gym uniform was the only thing stopping her from hitting the ceiling. Kaminari, inversely, is on the ground, repeating ‘take a nap’ in shock.
Tsuyu spoke up from the starting line of the track. “Midoriya,” she began, her earnest tone instantly pulling the embarrassed boy’s attention toward her, “you have looked tired today. It would be fine with me if you rested this class period, you deserve it.”
Midoriya’s ears looked hot enough to melt metal together. He nodded jerkily, looking down at the sleeping bag in his hands with clear longing. This knocked most of the class out of their giggle fest. Todoroki and Iida exchanged concerned glances.
“Yes!” Iida suddenly shouted, “You should take better care of yourself Midoriya! We all need at least eight hours of sleep each night to perform at our best!”
Todoroki nodded softly and shot a small smile at Midoriya. “You probably have worked out more than all of us combined, it’s okay if you sit out this time.”
Midoriya seemed to be relaxing at his friend's words and Aizawa restrained himself from rolling his eyes.
“Shitty nerd!!” Bakugou burst out, pointing an accusatory finger at Midoriya, “You better fucking take that nap! Firstly, because sensei told you to! And secondly because if you’re not well-rested when I beat you then it’s not a true victory!” He was snarling. Why did he have the ability to snarl, he was supposed to be a teenager, not a rabid dog.
However, his words seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back. Midoriya relented and took off his shoes with shaking hands before he climbed into the sleeping bag. The class watched intently as Midoriya zipped it up and laid down on the floor, his face surrounded by yellow nylon and his fluffy hair. He closed his eyes and then immediately passed out. It was unmistakable, his face relaxed and his cheek squished into the ground.
Mina giggled again. Uraraka was cooing. Tokoyami was muttering something about sunshine burning away the darkness of today's activities. Bakugou aggressively shushed everyone.
“If you fuckers wake him-” Bakugou whisper shouted at the class. His quiet, for once, screams were easily drowned out as Aizawa nudged his student with his foot so that Midoriya was laying on his back and his face wasn’t smashed into the gym floor.