Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He was just going to grab another mug of coffee. It was just that simple. He knows it is already just passed midnight, but he really needs more coffee in his system. He still has more papers he needs to grade. He's not looking forward to it, but at least he won't have his students pestering him about their papers. And he is not looking forward to that even more.

He's just going to grab another mug of coffee from the kitchen. The elevator door just opened when his nose picks up a burnt smell. Grimacing, he silently wonders tiredly who is at fault this time. His first thought is either Bakugo or Shouto (but really everyone is a victim because none of them could cook for their life beside Bakugo) but who knows who is it this time.

And aren't they supposed to be asleep right now? They don't have school tomorrow, but he did not hear any planning his students have to spend tonight (not that he had been paying attention or anything. He definitely did not care).

When he arrives at the kitchen, he is a little surprised at seeing Uraraka there, shoulders slump as her face planted onto the table. Beside her head is her phone, and right in front of her is the main suspect for the burnt smell. He takes a guess it's a failed attempt of a cake. At least, he thinks so. He's not sure if it is actually a cake or not.

He's already standing on the opposite side of the table, his mug in one hand, and yet Uraraka is still has yet to notice his presence. He might need to lecture her for her awareness. He announces his presence by clearing his throat. The girl immediately straightens up with a shocked look on her face that she is not alone. Her expression quickly turns to guilty when she sees his questioning raised eyebrow.

"I know I should be sleeping right now, but…" Uraraka timidly trails off. "A relative of mine's birthday is very soon and I was tasked to bake the cake."

So it was a cake.

"And why are you baking the cake this late at night?" He didn't hide his irritation from his voice, but he did tone it down a bit. Uraraka flushes red, breaking eye contact and fidgets with her fingers.

"It's… today…" This time he didn't mask his irritation from his sigh, rubbing his face with one hand. "I tried making it but… it didn't go so well."

He could see that, seeing how black the thing is. He is surprise that no one had woken up by the burning smell, or how the fire alarm had not picked it up.

"Why aren't you asking the others?"

"I don't want to bother them with my problem," she answers, and didn't see his eye twitches. Really, these kids, what are friends for if not to help? Even then, heroes also need help if needed.

He looks at how tired Uraraka is, and also sees the underlying worry under the tiredness. He sighs again, double the tiredness than before, putting down his mug and rubs his eyes with his fingers. The things he does for his students.

"Show me the instructions," he groans out, sinking one hand into the pocket of his sweatpants to take out a black hair tie to tie his hair into a bun. He carefully tucks a few loose locks behind his ear, making sure to keep them away from his eyes or dropping into the mix later.

The grading papers can wait.

Uraraka is staring at him with opened mouth and wide eyes but quickly snaps out of it when he glares. She fumbles for her phone and unlocks it before handing it to him. He narrows his eyes at the small screen, silently wishing that he should've brought his reading glasses with him.

"Have you ever baked a cake, Mr. Aizawa?" Uraraka hesitantly asks.

"Never," he admits, scrolling through the list of instructions. "Let's learn together then." The instruction seems clear enough to follow though he could see where Uraraka did wrong. He grabs the apron that is hanging near the fridge before looking around the kitchen. His eyes land on the mess at the sink, just the things he is looking for.

"Take out the ingredients, I'll wash these first before using them," he instructs as he ties on the apron. When he didn't hear her moving, he turns to look at her. She has a second round of staring much like before. "Uraraka." That seems to snap her out of it as she stiffens.

"Y-Yes,Mr. Aizawa!" She heads off quickly to gather all the necessary ingredients. He wonders if they are any left after she used them for earlier. He'll get to it later. For now, he needs to wash the mixer and bowls and other things.

They made a mess while in the making. He beat the mix a bit too roughly causing a bit spilled onto the floor, which led to Uraraka nearly slipped onto her face if it is not for his quick reflex. In turn, he spilled the entire thing on the floor so they started all over again.

Uraraka accidently poured some of the flour onto the table causing him to inhale a nose-full of it. He sneezed into it and now they are covered in flour. Uraraka giggled when she saw him while he merely sighed before they both clean themselves up.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Uraraka sets the temperature.

"But it says 350 degrees," she tells him, her expression full of confusion.

"It is 350 degrees Fahrenheit, which means we need to input 180 degrees Celsius," he replies with exasperation.

"Ooh," Uraraka drawls out as the realization sinks in. He nods his head.

He nearly jumps out of his skin the second time when Uraraka sets the temperature the second time.

"It says 180 degrees Celsius for 40 minutes. If we put in 1800 degrees we could bake it for 4 minutes," she reasons as if her words make total sense.

"That's not how it works!" He wants to tear his hair off from his head. He couldn't understand if it's Kaminari or Kirishima to make this kind of mistake but he did not expect it to be Uraraka.

Maybe that is how the cake ended up so burnt earlier.

Uraraka is staring at him, looking very confused. She still doesn't get it. He sighs again, feeling like his energy is spilled onto the floor now. He doesn't have the energy to explain to her; he'll do it later. For now, they could continue the cake. This time, he will set the temperature.

The 40 minute wait is quiet but not as awkward as he initially thought. He finally makes his coffee he originally wanted while Uraraka checks through her phone. He doesn't know what she is doing at this current time. He takes out the cake when the timer sets off. Already, it looks significantly better than Uraraka's. And he could see the awed look on her face.

"Alright, you do the final design," he says, after he makes a check as the instruction says. Uraraka twitches and looks slightly scared.

"A-Are you sure?" she stutters. He looks at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not a creative person." Not entirely true, he can be creative except not many people find his creativity that much enjoyable. "And besides, this is for your relative. You should be doing the final touches."

Uraraka looks uncertain but she nods nonetheless. He hands her a plastic bag filled with cream, a corner carefully cut. Her hands shake a bit as she carefully squeezes the cream out onto the cake.

"Hey," he interrupts for a second. She twitches again, luckily didn't spill the cream onto the cake. "Don't be so tense. I know you can do it well." She blinks at him, before nodding her head. She continues the decoration, this time more confident than ever.

Soon enough, the cake is done. And Uraraka is whooping with joy.

"Quiet down," he scolds while glaring at her. "Others are still sleeping." She stops and flushes sheepishly. But she has a very wide smile on her face, looking extremely happy albeit very tired. Then she bows at him.

"Thank you, Mr. Aizawa!" she says earnestly. "I couldn't have done it without you." He waves a hand dismissively even though she couldn't see it.

"You could've asked your classmates to help you out and made it better," he scolds her but with much lesser heat behind his words.

"I know," Uraraka replies sheepishly, still bowing. Then, she straightens up and gives him a soft smile. "But making it with you felt great and enjoyable."

He refuses to acknowledge the warmth spreading all over his chest.

"Go to bed; get as much as sleep as you can. I'll put the cake in the fridge." Right on time, Uraraka yawns, emphasizing her tiredness. "Go."

"Yes, Mr. Aizawa," she answers tiredly before slowly makes her way to the room. He watches her go, making sure she gets to her room safely. Then he did as he promised before taking out his phone to text at the group chat Midoriya had created out of the blues, saying that if they ever touch the cake in the fridge they will get detention and severe punishment.

Saying that he will expel them is less effective nowadays. They had seen through his bluff, his logical ruse. These damned kids. He sighs, finally feeling the exhaustion seeping through his bones.

Well, he might as well get a few shut-eyes while he can.

Nobody had said anything, not even a single word or even a single knowing look. It's like nobody knows about it, or forgot about it. She wouldn't admit it, but she feels sad and not looking forward to tomorrow.

Tomorrow's her birthday. In fact, it is only minutes away from midnight. Yet, she didn't get anything, or even a hint. She knows it should be a surprise, but wouldn't admit out loud that it stings her a bit.

She doesn't expect anything at midnight. Who would be awake at such hour to bother surprise her? Everyone had pretty much exhausted themselves to death from class earlier (They all know Mr. Aizawa had gone soft. Well, softer than before but not entirely soft. Nevertheless, he is still merciless with his training).

So far as she knows, she is currently awake at this hour. She's going to the kitchen just to grab a glass of water, nothing much. She's tired but she's parched. She looks at the time on the phone she carries. It just strikes midnight, and she suppresses a sigh.

'Happy birthday to me.'

When she arrives at the kitchen, she freezes in her track.

There sat on the table facing the doorway is a cake. Not just any cake, it is a very familiar cake. The way the cake is shaped looks familiar. The frosting looks familiar. Even the design looks familiar.

Happy Birthday

Her mind wanders back to the time where she made the exact same cake with a certain someone.

'He remembers…'

Her heart swells. Her lips quiver before they curl into a full blown wide smile. She couldn't keep her giddiness down. She feels extremely happy.

She wants to go find him, but she knows he's on a patrol tonight. And that warms her heart even more, that he had the time to bake and ready the cake for her despite his usual schedule.

She'll tackle him when he returns.

As soon as the elevator opens, the first thing that greeted him is a pair of arms thrown at him and wrapped around his middle. He stumbles a bit but recovers very quickly and hugs her back.

"Thank you," he hears her whisper into his uniform before she tightens her embrace. He hums dismissively, though his chest is radiating warmth that heats up his body after battling the cold night earlier.

The elevator door closes before they could exit it; Uraraka still refuses to let him go just yet.

Chapter Text

He heard her before he could even see her. At first, he panics thinking something had happened to his student and his heart beats very hard. He rushes to the common room, one hand already on his capture weapon looking around for threats.

He found none. What he did find is his pink student sitting in a clutter of opened note books, textbooks and crumpled papers. She has her face buried in her palms, sobbing profusely.

He relaxes his stance but his heart is still thumping, still concerned that his student is crying. He approaches her, making sure his steps are noisy enough to detect by her. She did. She stops crying for a second and looks up at him with wide teary eyes.

Damn it, his heart is breaking at seeing those teary eyes. Beads of tears are still trailing down her pink cheeks that are flusher than before.

"Mr.… Aizawa…" Ashido furiously trying to wipe away the tears but it is proven effortless as they keep spilling. Her sobs have reduced down to hiccups though.

Moving his attention to the opened books scatter around her, he crouches down to take a closer look. He picks one notebook up, squinting at the written words. He couldn't even hold back the cringe at how disorganized her notes are. There are at least three completely unrelated subjects written on the same line.

"My grades are getting worse and worse," he hears Ashido speaks. He lowers the notebook to gaze at her. She's sniffling, and her tears aren't as big as before but they still spill. "I'm falling behind classes further and further." Judging from how hoarse her voice is, she must be crying for so long.

It pains him more than it should.

He is getting soft.

"I couldn't understand a topic so I took some time to study it. But I still don't understand it so I took more time to study it. Then I have other subjects I have to study to so I took more time to study them. But I couldn't understand them and I am running out of time to study them. I'm cramming them all together because I couldn't understand them. And there is a test soon and I have to study for that but I have other subjects to study too but the test is important. But I couldn't just concentrate on one subject so I-"

"Ashido." Her mouth clamps up, eyes wide and body tense. Then, her lips tremble before they curl downwards. Her sobs break through as tears streak down her face once more.

"I tried asking others," she continues between sobs. "They tried really hard to explain but I just couldn't understand what they said. And they couldn't spend all their time helping me because they have to study as well and they have their own problems they have to deal with and their own lives to live with and family and and-"

"Ashido." The same thing happened like before, except she continues to sobs, already given up on wiping her tears.

She has taken this work rather hard. He has to admit that he slightly proud of her to manage to withstand the pressure this long. He began to believe that she will not break despite maintaining very low grades.

He just didn't expect she would finally crumble so soon, and so hard.

At first, he hesitates. Then, he reaches out and gently lays his hand on her head, between her horns. She didn't react as he expected when someone feels something foreign lands on their person. Instead, her sobs has tone down to sniffles, and he could've sworn she leans into his hand a bit. She didn't even flinched when he placed his hand on her head.

He refuses to let his hand tremble at the thought of how much these students put their trust in him, that he will never hurt them.

And they're right. He will never hurt them. He will be dead and he still won't hurt them.

"Go to sleep," he commands with gentle voice. He delicately ruffles her hair, watching as her tears slowly stops. "Tomorrow morning, come find me in my room. We will work on this together."

She shifts under his hand, lifting her head up to gaze at him with tearful but hopeful eyes.

"Really?" Her voice is hesitant but mirrors her eyes. His hand trembles slightly at the amount of trust in her eyes before he suppresses it.

Damn these kids.

"Yes," he answers back, nodding his head. He continues to ruffles her hair, his thumb strays closer to her forehead. She closes her eyes. Now he fully believes she leans into his touch. "Now get some rest, you had been staying up far too long."

"Yes, Mr. Aizawa," she replies tiredly, her exhaustion finally kicks in as she finally yawns. Thankfully, tomorrow is day off. He removes his hand as she gets up. "Goodnight, Mr. Aizawa."

He merely hums in reply. She wobbly makes her way to her dorm. He watches her until she gets out from his line of sight. He sighs as his shoulders sag. He looks at the mess on the floor, taking note on the topics and the way she takes notes (He cringes again at that). Ashido forgot to clean herself up.

He supposes he can do that for her.

He is definitely getting soft.

When he hears the knock on his door, he thinks to himself that she had come to his room much earlier than he expected. She looked so tired last night he would've thought she would sleep much longer.

"Come in," he calls out. She enters hesitantly, wearing a black tank top and brown shorts. He beckons her over to sit on the carpet floor by the coffee table (His own table is already filled with his computer and a tab that there is almost no space for her to work on).

"You're disorganized," he points out, didn't waste a time. When she flinches, he almost feels bad.

Almost.

"You need to clearly organize everything in order; topic by topic, subject by subject. If you cram everything in one page, you will only confuse yourself." To show his point, he takes out one of her notebook and randomly opens to a page. "I cannot tell if these are from two topics or two subjects."

"I'm sorry," she quickly interjects. "I just can't seem to catch up what the teachers had said so I had to jot down everything I can. I'm also easily distracted."

At least she is aware of that. It is good.

"It is a giant mess," he scolds but his tone is less harsh. Nonetheless, she still flinches. "The first thing you need to do is to clean this all up and organize your work. You wrote this whole thing down so you have general ideas which subjects and which topics are written in one line."

She gives him a hesitant look. He sighs. He continues on anyway.

"Start it all with a mind map. You know how to use it, right?" She nods. He hands her one of her notebooks, the one with the least amount of notes in it. He leans back to his bed and lets her get to her work. Thankfully, he already had made coffee for himself. He takes a few sips as he watches her around his mug. Then he squints.

"Ashido," he calls out with a warning tone. She immediately freezes and looks up at him, looking confused and scared at the same time. "You are doing it wrong." He leans back forward, placing a finger on one bubble that is already filled a quarter of the page, containing useless and unnecessary words. "You're only supposed to gather the important info only, not the entire thing."

Her fear melts away, but the confusion stays. Then she looks down at her notes. Now, she looks lost. He frowns.

"Ashido?"

"I… don't know which points are important and which are not," she confesses meekly. He didn't say a word for quite a while, and he could see her tensing up as the silence stretches. Then he takes a deep breath and puts down his mug.

"I'll guide you," he says as he takes out a hair tie and pulls his head into a bun. Ashido gives him a relieved but guilty look. He ignores it as he scoots closer to her. "Just tell me which do you think are important."

To say that Ashido is bad is an understatement. She is borderline horrible. How she manages to get this far really surprises him, especially with how bad she is at taking notes.

It frustrated him but he could see it frustrated Ashido more. She was gritting her teeth and pulling her hair the whole time. Every wrong answer she got, she was getting more frustrated, more desperate. She was borderline crying but the tears didn't spill.

So he was being very patient with her. He guided her very slowly, pointing out which to look for when gathering the necessary info. He could see the realization struck on her face, on how easy it is and how much simpler the notes are now.

When one mind map is finish, he dons his reading glasses and checks it over. Ashido is looking at him expectantly, nervously wringing her hands over the coffee table.

"For once, it is not quite half bad," he says as he puts down the notebook. Ashido is beaming at him. She knows that he is saying that she had done very well. She throws her arms up with joy. "Now do the rest."

He ignores her cries as he takes another sip of his coffee only to realize it is now empty. He sighs and gets up from his spot, wincing as his bones pops along the way.

"I'm grabbing another coffee; don't snoop around while I'm gone," he warns her as he makes his way to the door.

"Okay," she whines out sadly as she works on the next mind map. He leaves her behind as he closes the door behind her and makes his way to the kitchen downstairs.

It is definitely not an excuse so he could grab her favorite orange juice from the fridge. It's definitely not because he saw how dry her lips were, or how she kept swallowing the entire time. It is definitely because now is the best time to grab his coffee even though he doesn't it right now.

It is definitely not.

Someone knocks on his door. He doesn't think twice to call them to come in. He did turn off his computer so no other eyes can see the content he had written.

"Hey, Mr. Aizawa!" Ashido greets as she enters and closes the door behind her. He hums in reply.

"I hope you took the nap I told you to," he says, reaching over to grab his half-empty mug.

"I did!" she replies instantly, smiling brightly at him. "I feel much better now, especially after lunch!"

He could tell. Her mood has improved drastically. No longer was she looking down and near hopeless like the first time she entered his room earlier that day. People usually underestimate the power of a nap, even if it just thirty minutes.

As Ashido sits at the coffee table he places down his mug and opens a drawer of his table. He takes out a small box and makes his way to the opposite side of the coffee table. He hands it to her after he sits down, ignoring the creaking of his bones. She looks at it in confusion before looking at him for silent permission. When he nods she opens the box and then looks even more confused.

"Cards?" she says, still confused, as she looks at the content that is filled with white blank cards.

"You can use this as a learning tool," he starts as he takes out a piece. "It is small, maneuverable and efficient. You can use it anywhere and on the go, better than carrying an entire book with you."

He opens her notebook that had been waiting for them on the coffee table to the pages on her mind maps. There he starts teaching her on how the mind maps can be related with the cards. He could already see the gears in her head turning as she forms ideas on how to use the cards to her advantage.

"You can color them to make things more organize," he states as he leans back to his bed. "Group a bunch together and punch a hole and tie with a ribbon to be used as one topic, or do whatever you want."

"Is it effective?" Ashido asks, looking slightly hesitant at how useful the usage of the card is.

"I still use it. That is saying much," he answers nonchalantly. Then, he sees a smile blossoms on her face.

"You don't mind I use some of them?" He waves a hand dismissively.

"Use as much as you want, you clearly need it more than me." Her smile doubles.

"Thank you, Mr. Aizawa!" He hums in reply. She's already taken out her pen and wrote down before he could finish his hum.

"Mr. Aizawa, do you have any color pens or pencils?"

"I'll grab them."

He watches as she colors the card to her own need, watches as she admires her work and finds joy in learning.

No, it's the coffee that is warming up his chest.

Even though the mug is on his table and nowhere near him.

He clearly didn't expect her to fall asleep on his table. It wasn't his intention to exhaust her to sleep.

He didn't. She just naturally fell asleep, somewhat feeling in his presence. She did just finish dinner; maybe that is a factor somewhere in the reason for her to fall.

She isn't supposed to be in his room anymore. He doesn't have anything else to help her with. Everything had taken care of just before dinner. And it is too soon to quiz her. So he was rightfully surprise when she entered his room and sat down at the coffee table nonchalantly.

"I have a test coming up, so I need to study up."

"And why here?"

She gave him a warm smile at his question.

"I like it here."

She didn't offer any more explanation than that. And he didn't bother to kick her out. So they went with their own business. She was facing away from his computer, so she can't see its content. He kept his ears close to her, always listening, always aware of her.

So when he didn't hear her humming for quite a while, he turns around to take a glance.

And that is where he found her, half sprawling on the table with her arms cushioning her head. He could see her shoulders go up and down as she breathes. Quietly, he gets off his chair and walks over to her. He crouches down beside her to take a closer look.

She looks very peaceful despite the uncomfortable position. He sighs quietly before gently places his hand on her shoulder. He freezes before he could do anything further.

He was going to wake her up, to clean up and get back downstairs to sleep in her own room. But she looks so peaceful, so safe, that she knows that she is in the safest place on the planet. And his mind recalls back to what she had said earlier.

He looks at his bed, barely used and well kept.

Then he looks back at her.

Then he sighs.

Gently, he pulls Ashido off from the table and onto him. He scoops her into his arms before slowly standing up, her head resting on his shoulder. He feels her shifts but only to get comfortable and didn't wake up. He carefully makes his way to his bed, pulls back the cover and lies her down. He makes sure her head is lying on the pillow before pulling the cover over her.

She sighs, shifting once more before snuggling into the pillow. He stays in his position a little bit longer, gazing down at his pink student before delicately brushing her hair from her forehead. Finally, he stands up.

He looks at the organized mess on his table, once left barren and completely untouched since the day he lived here, is now completely scattered with books and cards and pencils and pens.

It looks lively, like it should be. It is also a mess.

He uses that as an excuse to tidy up the table, because it is a mess. Not because he cares. It is just a mess.

"MR. AIZAWA!"

He jolts in his seat as the door to the teacher's office slams open. Before he could react a body is thrown at him as a pair of arms wrap around his neck tightly, sending him further into his seat.

"I PASSED! I PASSED! I PASSED!"

"Ashido?"

The said person merely squeals as she hugs him tighter. He places a hand on her back as he tries not to let both of them fall. Finally she releases and pulls away from him.

He would've been worried when he sees those tears streaming down her face, but she has the widest smile on her face. Her entire body is beaming with jittering happiness as she jumps slightly on the spot.

"MR. AIZAWA! LOOK! LOOK! LOOK!" She thrusts a paper right into his face, causing him to pull back his head a bit. He squints at it, taking note on the mark. "I PASSED THE TEST. I GOT ABOVE PASSING GRADE! I PASSED THE TEST, MR. AIZAWA!" She squeals again before throwing her arms at him once more. This time, he is ready. "THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU SO MUCH, MR. AIZAWA!"

Who knew she has a warm hug? Or so he says. It is definitely the hug that caused the warmth in his chest; nothing else.

"Mina!?" He hears one of his students shouts. Then, Hagakure and Kaminari appear at the door, looking confused and mildly concerned (mainly on Kaminari, he couldn't see Hagakure anyway). Ashido finally pulls away to look at them.

"Hey, guys!" She bounds over to them, light on her feet. He shifts in seat now that the extra weight is off of him. He tentatively listens to him at the same time.

"Where did you run off to?"

"I just want to tell Mr. Aizawa that I passed!"

"You passed!?"

"Wow, Mina! Congratulations!"

"You could've told us that you passed before you ran off."

"Sorry! I just got excited and wanted to tell Mr. Aizawa about it!"

Now he cannot deny the warmth in his chest; that is not just from Ashido's hugs.

Just from their words, he concludes that Ashido had run away from her friends and straight to him to break the news. It warms his heart that he is the first person she seek to share her happiness.

"Mr. Aizawa!" he looks up when he hears his name called. Ashido is at the door, beaming at him. "Thank you!" Then, she runs off.

He should've scolded her for barging into the office unannounced.

But seeing the smile on her face, the happiness in her eyes… He feels… happy, for her. He didn't have the heart to scold her, to remove her happiness. So he lets her go.

Damn it, he is getting too soft.

And damn it, he is slowly getting used to it.

And damn it even further for not minding it a single bit.

Chapter Text

He already knows about it long before Present Mic told him. He had been listening, been paying attention. He was in the kitchen when he first heard it.

"My band had finally landed a spot in a nearby venue as the opening act!"

"Wow, congrats, Kyoka!"

Yes, Jiro had very recently formed a small band that consisted of herself, a schoolmate and three of their friends. The band consists of a vocalist, two guitarists, a bassist and a drummer. Jiro plays rhythm guitarist. She plays many instruments, but he finds the bass role suits her best (Definitely not because he is a bassist himself, definitely not biased). He is mildly impressed that she manages to balance personal life, school and hobby altogether. It reminds him of Present Mic.

Of course, it was what came next that he started to pay attention to her.

"I would love for you to come on that night!"

"Oh uhh, sorry Kyoka. I can't come on that day. I'm going back to my family."

"Oh. It's fine. I can ask someone else."

She did. She got variables of answers. None of which she wanted to hear.

"Sorry Kyoka, it's not my type of music."

"I have something else on that day."

"I'm not interested, sorry Jiro."

He could see she was getting a little desperate. She even went as far as trying to invite the ever so tired Shinsou Hitoshi to the performance. Even he turned it down.

"Can't your parents come see you?" he heard Hitoshi asked tiredly.

"They can't; they're in Singapore for their performance," he heard her, voice so solemn that it pulled his heartstring.

He could see it, whenever she walked past by him, or when he was just secretly looking at her without anyone's knowledge. She became less excited and less happy as the day of her performance grew closer. Her once bouncy steps now transformed to mere shuffling. Her head held high now hung and gazed at her feet. Whenever he sees these, whatever he was gripping he would grip them very tightly until it hurt.

So he reached out to her in the dorm, just before she went to her room long after dinner. He asked if everything is okay. She had said yes, everything is fine, even smiled at him in assurance. He wasn't fooled, that smile wasn't a Kyoka Jiro smile. But he never pressed on, merely told her nonchalantly that he'll be there if she needs him and then waved her off.

It seemed that with him reaching out gave her ideas. The next day, she asked some of the teachers around the school.

"Did you know Jiro has a band performance tomorrow night?" Present Mic asked him in the teacher's lounge.

He does, since day one four days ago.

Jiro had asked Present Mic first; it is the most logical one. Sadly he couldn't attend; he has patrol that day and couldn't squeeze more time in his already packed schedule.

Then All Might came to him about her too, that Jiro had asked him to ask. He couldn't come because his health is on the low side right now and needed extra rest. And then Midnight came, tell him that Jiro had nearly begged. And then Vlad King, then Thirteen, then Cementoss, then Ectoplasm, and so on. She was that desperate.

She had asked her friends, her classmates and her teachers.

But she had never once come to him.

He makes his way to the kitchen, paying half attention to the quiet group in the common room. Despite looking calm and tired, his mind is reeling. And his heart is quivering.

The performance is tonight, just a few minutes before she starts (he knows what time she starts; he had been listening after all).

He didn't see her the entire day. He guesses she is at the venue for practice and sound check before the performance. Still, he couldn't help but worry that she never got to him.

Why didn't she ask him? Did she not trust him enough? Did he do something wrong? He never told her that he'll turn it down if she offers. He had never recalled such memory.

Had he hurt her for her to not trust him anymore?

He tries to still his hand as he puts his mug on the counter a little harder than his intention. Before he could open the cabinet for his coffee ground, his eyes caught something that gains his attention. He peers down the trash can and squints.

Tickets. Five of them, actually. They are still in good condition.

Jiro had given up.

His heart aches at the thought.

He reaches down and grabs all five of them, wipes away the stain at the back of one. He gazes down at them, mind flashes back to all the time Jiro had been asking desperately from anyone to come attend.

He half-listens to the group in the common room, hearing their quiet murmurs as they study hard together. There are five of them there, just enough. He could command them to go but…

He turns around makes his way upstairs to his apartment, leaving his mug behind. One hand is clenching around the tickets, but not tight enough to crumple them.

He makes his decision. He grumbles under his breath, but he is not unhappy.

The first song has already started when he entered the venue. He quickens his steps towards the stage.

The venue is a little packed; there are significantly more people than he originally expect. He already doesn't like it. There are many kinds of people but he doesn't care about them. He weaves through the crowd, closer to the stage.

He bumps into a seven foot man, clad in all white but didn't mind him. It is pretty crowded.

He stops at a small space amongst the crowd. It's not at the very front of the stage but close enough to get a good view through the many heads of the crowd. He shifts his capture weapon before shoving his hands in his pockets.

He sees her first before her bandmates.

Her head is bowed, eyes glazed over. Her shoulders are slump and so does the rest of her body, barely moved. She doesn't seem to really play to the music, only relying on muscle memories; even then the movements of her hands seem half-hearted.

And she looks so lifeless.

And he hates it.

The first song finished and the song quickly starts, but Jiro is still gazing at the floor.

He wants her to look up, at the crowd, at him, that someone is attending her performance. He wants her to know that he is there for her. He will always be there for her.

As if she heard his silent plea, she slowly lifts her head. Her blank glazed eyes scan the crowd, lazily swiveling her head around.

Then their eyes met.

He watches as her eyes gain color, gain life, like they supposed to be.

He watches as she slowly straightens up and pulls her shoulders back into a proud posture.

He watches as she starts to sway to the music before finally moving in beat and directly on time with the rest of the band.

He watches as she bites her lip before it breaks into a wobbly yet wide grin.

There. That's the Kyoka Jiro he knows.

The crowd seems to feel her newly discovered energy. More people are getting into the music; heads start bobbing and toes start tapping on the tiled floor. The applauses are louder at the end of each song, and get louder as the performance progresses. The band is playing for the crowd, basking in their attentions and cheers.

But, seeing as their eyes constantly connecting, he knows that Jiro is playing for him, basking in his piercing yet soft attention and silent but proud approval.

"Thank you so much attending!" the vocalist shouts through the microphone before they make a grand bow. Everyone around him applauds, a few whistles in cheers. He didn't join them, but he did silently cheer.

The entire time, Jiro is looking at him.

Even as the band exits the stage, she is craning her neck to keep locking her eyes with him. Once she disappears, he turns around and makes his way to the exit door. He's the only one going out; he's not interested in the main act.

He's not even six steps away from the exit door when he hears someone is making a break for him.

"Mr. Aizawa!"

He hears a familiar voice from behind him. He turns around just enough for a smaller body crashes into him. He grunts at the new weight but keeps a firm ground. Arms are wrapped around his torso, hugging him very tightly and he returns the embrace though less tightly.

"Thank you, Mr. Aizawa!" Jiro squeals into his chest, hugging him a tad tighter. He sighs, making an attempt to put irritation and exasperation in it but his fondness breaks through instead. He moves one hand and places it on her head.

"It's no problem," he mutters back. Jiro lifts her head to smile happily at him, arms still wrap around him.

"How did you find out about this?" Her eyes glitter with awe. He knows that look. It is when he did something extraordinary that left his students breathless and at awe, that he did something that is beyond their expectation of him. She must be thinking that he can read minds in order to know about her performance tonight.

"I found the tickets in the bin," he answers truthfully instead. It is a little fun and enjoyable to see those eyes but he wants the truth. "Why didn't you invite me?" At his question, Jiro looks sheepish and guilty. She breaks eye contact and lays her forehead on his chest.

"I thought you wouldn't come. It's not like you to attend such thing and you hate the crowd. But, I am so very happy that you're here, more than I can express." Her arms around him tighten once more. He snorts as he returns the hug.

He hopes she didn't notice that his heart skipped a beat, even if she has her ear pressed directly over it. It is definitely not because that his students know him so well they didn't even hesitate on their decisions.

Finally, Jiro releases him, but she still has her hands gripping his sleeves. She looks up at him expectantly, smiling widely.

"So, how was it?" she asks excitedly. He snorts.

"You should've kept with bass." Jiro snorts back.

"Is it because you're a bassist yourself?" she teases him with a raised eyebrow.

"Blues doesn't suit you." At his words, Jiro giggles.

"I know I should've gone for metal," she comments as she releases one of his sleeves. They make their way home side by side, taking a leisure time. It is not that far, and they're not in a rush.

"Early era metal at best. The crowd was dead," he comments back. Jiro giggles even louder, hiding it behind one hand now it is free.

"What band should I have picked?"

"Black Sabbath, hands down," he answers instantly, confident and firm of his answer. From the corner of his eyes Jiro is rolling her eyes before shaking her head, but she still has a smile on her face.

"Of course it is." The smile turns fond, and it reminds him of the first time she asked him if he ever have a favorite band. "I still think Ozzy is better than Dio."

"Don't tarnish the name of a metal god," he answers on instinct. Now, Jiro gives a full blown laugh that makes her wobbles on her feet, and that reminds him of the first time she teased him about the same thing.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Nobody can match up to Dio. The dude was a legend."

"You should've played Heaven and Hell."

"Which one: the band, the album or the song?"

"All of them." Jiro lets out another full blown laugh.

His mind flashes back to when she told him the reason why she didn't go ask him. Silently, he sighs as he watches Jiro chatting excitedly over the topic with feather light bounces in her steps. One of her hands is still holding tightly on his sleeve, not letting go anytime soon. He didn't call her out on it, merely letting it happens. His heart swells and his chest feels warm. He welcomes the feeling.

'I would disregard my own comfort and even my own life just to see the vigor of life in your eyes.'

Chapter Text

He still wonders why he agreed to this. He could've asked Nemuri to do it instead, but… she's his student. Keyword: his. So of course he would agree to this. And besides, they need a guardian to accompany them outside UA.

It's definitely not because Hagakure had specifically asked him to accompany her.

Other girls would've joined along, but they are a little busy. They were quite dismay that they couldn't join but he reasoned that it would be easier to keep an eye on a person instead of a group. Nonetheless, Hakagure still looks excited to go shopping for clothes.

Him? He's already complaining before they even enter the mall.

"Let's go, Mr. Aizawa!"

"Don't stray too far," he calls out aloud but she's already skipping her way to the first store. He grumbles under his breath and follows her far behind. He hunches down into his capture weapon and shoves his hands into his pocket, avoiding the large crowd as far as he possibly could.

Hagakure had grown out of her clothes; she needs to buy new ones. Thankfully, the dorm is also in need to restock the kitchen with groceries and whatnot. So here they are in the mall shopping for Hagakure's clothes and groceries.

Before he could enter the clothes store Hakagure already jogs out to him. He raises an eyebrow at her.

"I don't like the clothes they sell," she answers bluntly before skipping past him, already making a beeline for the next store. He didn't hold back his groan as he turns on his heels and follows her slowly. He doesn't like this even more but he won't voice it out; Hakagure doesn't need to know that.

She had been very looking forward to today. The past few days had not been quite her days, really doesn't like how her tight clothes had restricted her movements. So he voiced out his concern if she needs new clothes.

He couldn't see it but he knew she had a big smile on her face.

When she wanted him to accompany her, he couldn't help but be confused. Surely Midnight would've been the better choice. He has very little knowledge in female fashion. Then, her clothes folded and ruffled in a way that he thought she was giving him a confused look. Her answer surprised him.

"No, I want you to come, not anyone else."

There was so much confident and so much trust in her answer. He still wouldn't admit that his heart skipped a beat. He agreed, putting up a front of reluctance and told her that the reason he would ever come was because the dorm really does need to restock.

It's definitely that, not because he couldn't say no to his student.

"Come on, Mr. Aizawa!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming."

"How do I look?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Aizawa!"

He groans out loud at hearing her whine and feet stomp.

He finds himself in a fourth store (fourth!) and Hakagure had barely bought anything. Thankfully, the store they are currently seems to supply all the clothing that is to her liking. He relieved his feet by sitting on a bench. And then Hakagure called him from the changing room. Thankfully there is a cushioned bench right in front of it so he took resident on it.

So here they are. Hagakure is showing off her new attire, asking him if they look good or not. He doesn't know much about female fashion, he had already state this earlier, and it makes things harder to judge since Hagakure is literally invisible.

He's also too lazy to give his opinion on that matter.

Hagakure has none of it though.

"Mr. Aizawa please," Hagakure whines, stretching the last word longer. Her posture looks straight but her tone says she is pouting. "I want to know what you think about these! I can't just go with what I see."

"They're your clothes, just wear something you like and comfortable with," he replies, tone mixed with mild irritation. Her posture shifts, from the way her sleeves fold she is either wringing her hands or fidgeting with her fingers.

"But… I want your opinions on the matter. They're important too."

Damn it, why do these damn kids make his heart beat irregularly?

"Fine," he admits defeat in exasperation. Her posture shifts again.

"Really?!"

"Do it before I change my mind."

"Thank you!" Hagakure pulls the curtains again and he could hear her changing quite excitedly. In the meanwhile, he rubs his face with one hand and sighs into it.

He can't believe he admitted defeat so quickly.

He is getting too soft for his liking.

And he doesn't mind it far too much for his liking.

He starts to not make sense of himself.

"Ready?" he hears Hakagure calls out. He hums, hoping she would hear it. The curtains pull back, revealing Hagakure in a different set of clothes. She even poses and twirls for him to judge. He looks closely, looking up and down and takes in all the details.

"The pants don't fit the overall."

"Really?"

"Try putting on leggings."

"Okay!" The curtain draws over. He hears her shuffling inside before the curtain pulls back quickly. Hakagure steps forward confidently. He looks up at down before nodding his head in approval.

"Better." Hagakure jumps and cheers and then goes back into the changing room. He quietly snorts in amusement.

"It is not that often you would find a father in this place," he hears a woman speaks near him. He pays no mind.

It takes him a while to realize she is talking about him, and to him. He snaps his head to look at the woman who is smile kindly down at him.

"Is she your daughter?"

He doesn't answer. He feels very awkward. Is it common for a guy to be mistaken as a father to a girl who has absolute no relation with whatsoever? How should he answer?

The curtains pull back to reveal Hagakure in-

"No."

"Okay!"

The curtains draw over again.

The woman laughs behind her hand.

"That is just so adorable! I never thought someone like you could exist." He doesn't know if he feels complimented or insulted at that. Nonetheless, he stays quiet. The awkwardness nearly doubles. "It must be quite difficult to have an invisible daughter."

As if the world senses his awkwardness, a girl nearby is calling out a name. The woman turns before smiling at him, offering her goodbye and then walks over, leaving him behind. He keeps staring at her back, his mind still reeling at what had transpired.

The curtains pull back.

"Mr. Aizawa, how do I look?"

"Pick a different shirt under that jacket."

"You're right."

She disappears behind the changing room again. He silently wonders to himself how long will he has to stay here. There are still groceries he needs to get to but they are very easy to pick. It won't take long for that. Hagakure's next change takes longer than he expects so he takes out his phone to-

"Oh my! I never expect to see a caring father in here out of all places." He stiffens in his seat. He looks up at another woman, older than the previous one this time, also smiling down at him. Is it really that rare to see a man in this store?

He admits he never checks the store he is currently in. Should he be embarrassed by it?

The curtain pulls back. Hagakure steps out in different attire.

"Good. No change." Getting right the first try, she cheers and throws her hands to the air. And then she steps back into the changing room. The woman laughs out loud before she drops onto the bench, a respectful distance away from him.

"My own daughter would never let me give my opinion on her sense of fashion. To see your daughter takes yours makes me very jealous I'm almost envious," she comments offhandedly, smiling kindly at him. Once again, he didn't reply and the woman either doesn't mind it or doesn't notice it.

"Blue or green?" he hears Hagakure asks from behind the curtain. It is quite vague but thinks that helps his case.

"Blue," he answers. He prefers green but he thinks blue suits her better. The woman beside him chuckles warmly.

"It's beautiful to see the amount of trust she has in you."

'It's not just her,' he adds silently in his thought as his mind wanders to the other damn kids in his class. He suppresses a sigh of fondness at the thought of them.

"She's not the only one, huh?" He turns towards her, frowning in confusion at her words. She has a knowing smirk on her lips. "I know that look in those eyes; you have other girls too."

He hears Hakagure giggles behind the curtain. He gives the curtain a half-hearted glare as he fights down the blush rising up to his face.

Is his affection really that obvious?

"Don't feel so embarrassed," the woman chuckles as she waves a hand dismissively. "I'm a mother of three daughters myself; I have a fair share of that look. So I know one when I see one." She suddenly stands up, brushes away on her lap before straightens up. "It is nice meeting you. Goodbye." She gives him a kind smile before walking away. He gazes at her before he turns his attention back to his phone.

He had not unlocked it since she arrived. He stares at his reflection on the screen, trying to see this "look" in his eyes. He couldn't see any difference, no matter how much he squints, but somehow someone else can. He sighs and closes his eyes.

That's twice now that people had mistaken his relation with Hagakure. And these are not just ordinary people they are mothers who have experience growing up their children. Somehow, they had mistaken him as a genuine parental figure even though he doesn't have any children himself.

He meant biological. Those damn kids in his class don't count.

The curtain draws back, gentler this time. Hagakure steps out with her arms full of bundle of clothes. Seeing as she had finally done, he stands up from the bench. He ignores the creaking and popping of his bones.

"You done?" he asks gruffly. Her clothes shift, signaling she is nodding her head. He hums as he looks at the clothes in her arms. "You got home wear as well?" Her clothes shift again. "Alright, put them on the counter. We're going grocery shopping next."

"Okay!"

He follows her as she goes to the counter up front. As he pays for the clothes, he finds out she is taking the clothes he approves. It seems she takes his opinion quite closely. He hunches into his capture weapon to hide the tiny curl of his lips.

He notices Hagakure is standing much closer to him as they exit the store, one hand loosely wraps around his forearm. He lets her be.

He doesn't mind it at all.

"Mr. Aizawa, look!" Hagakure suddenly yells in exclamation. He looks up at her frowning in confusion. She's jumping up at down on her spot, one sleeve holding out vertically at a direction. He thinks she is pointing at something that she wants his attention on it. He follows the direction to where he thinks she is pointing at. He eye twitches at what he sees.

He hopes it is not the photo bo-

"It's a photo booth!" Hagakure exclaims in excitement. His eye twitches even more as she drags him to it by the arm. He carefully not lets the content of the bag he is holding spills and glares at her. "Let's have some photos together!"

"Hakagure," he lets out a warning growl. "Now is not the time for silly thing."

"Now is the best time for silly thing!" she retorts back, still dragging him closer to the booth. "We're not safe to go out since the villains and stuff." Her mood dampers down as her movements get less excited and stops tugging his arm. "Right now, I don't have to worry at all since you are here with me. I know I am safe with you."

His chest tightens tightly yet not painful. He takes in a deep breath to expand his tight chest.

Why do these damn kids have to say such things?

"Fine," he hisses through his teeth reluctantly. Hakagure perks up and drags him once more, this time he makes half-attempt to walk to the booth. Once inside, they place their bags on the floor, clear enough to not be seen in the photos.

"Get ready, Mr. Aizawa!" Hakagure says as she puts the coins into the machine. He merely shoves his hands into his pockets and slouches and makes sure he's within the frame. That's good enough. Hakagure quickly walks backward and stands right in front of his right arm, almost touching it. "Say, cheese!"

The camera flashes a few times. It's not really helping his case of dry eyes. Once the photoshoot is finished he quickly takes out his eye drop and squeeze one drop to each eye.

"Mr. Aizawa!" He snaps his head to his student, hearing her tone of displeasure. She's clutching a pair of photo strips, judging how they are floating in the air. He raises a questioning eyebrow as he caps his eye drop and puts it away. "Look at these!" The strips thrust to his direction. Confused, he squints at them, thinking for the umpteenth time where he needs his glasses.

Hakagure is taking different pose with each shoot, a bit wilder the next. He just slouches there, like he always does. He sees nothing wrong with them. He gives the invisible girl another confused look.

"You look like sh- uh… crap." He doesn't know if he should be insulted by that. "You could at least look more decent and presentable or something."

"There is no need for me to do such thing," he retorts, glaring at the invisible girl.

"Please?" her voice sweetens up, arms pull to her chest. He might've guessed she is trying to bend him with her puppy look. Sadly for her, she's invisible. So he didn't budge. But when he sees her sags very physically, he discreetly sucks in his breath.

This, right here, right now, she is probably at her least worry outside UA. She's enjoying it while it last. Her words run through his mind once more. He could feel his eye twitches before he lets out an audible sighs.

He grabs his capture weapon and gently sets it down alongside with the shopping bags, making sure it is also out of the frame. Then, he takes out his usual hair tie from his pocket. Putting it between his teeth, he combs his hair with his hands before pulling and bundling it up into his usual bun. Finally, he grabs his hair tie and secures his bun. He tucks loose locks behind his ears before sighing in approval.

Then he turns his attention to Hakagure, who seems frozen in her place. He could not see her reaction. He raises an eyebrow at her and glares lightly.

"Well? Get to it before I change my mind," he commands gruffly. That seems to break the spell as Hakagure twitches but quickly inserts more coins into the machine. She couldn't put them in cleanly, seemingly vibrating in excitement.

"Don't forget to say cheese, Mr. Aizawa!" Her voice is even more excited than before. He hums in reply. This time, he makes an attempt to not slouch and straightens up for once. He even poses once, if hand gesturing the "devil horns" consider a pose.

Before the final snap, she surprises him by suddenly throws her arms around him. He quickly recovers by encasing her in his own arms. He could feel her twist a bit in his arms against his body and he looks up just in time as the final photo snaps.

Hakagure squeals and releases him before impatiently and excitedly waiting for the machine to print out the strips. He sighs, releasing his hair from its bun and combs them around his shoulders. Then he bends down to grab his capture weapon.

"Mr. Aizawa! Look, look!" Hakagure squeals excitedly as he straightens up. She's holding out the newest photo strips towards him for him to see, but she is shaking and jumping in her spot so much he couldn't get a better look. He plucks one from her hand and squints down at it.

It looks just as he expects. He looks decent in them, and Hakagure is standing closer and closer to him with each shot. He could imagine the wide smile on her face. He could feel his heart settling down, knowing that his student is happy.

His eyes glue to the last photo, where they are holding each other in their arms. He couldn't see what expression Hakagure has on the photo, but for some reason she seems to radiate an aura of… comfort, content, safe, protected.

Hakagure surprises him once more for another embrace, this time less sudden and less exciting. He returns the hug and carefully encases her in his arms.

"Thank you, Mr. Aizawa." Her voice sounds muffled as her arms tightens around him. "You have no idea how so very happy I am right now." He grunts dismissively as he lifts one hand and pets her hair carefully.

He hopes she doesn't feel his chest swelling.

"Come on now. We need to back to the dorms," he finally speaks when he finds out she's not going to release him anytime soon. He wouldn't mind their current position, but it's already getting late. He feels her squeezing him once more before finally letting go.

"Alright," she agrees as she grabs two of the bags on the floor while he takes the rest. They exit the photo booth and make their way to the exit. They're not in a rush despite already knowing that it is getting late.

Hakagure also has an arm loosely loop around his, closing any distance between them but far enough to not kick the shopping bags they are holding in their hands. He doesn't call her out on it.

"You should keep your photo strip, Mr. Aizawa," she tells him cheekily. He groans and rolls his eyes.

"I have no use of them," he answers. Hakagure giggles.

He won't tell her that he will keep the strip in his apartment, safely put in a drawer with all other photos his other students had given him. No one can find the photos; he had put a lock on it.

No one will find out. And he will never admit that he had kept them all close to him.

"Whatever you say." He can't put a finger on the tone she is using. It's either she does not care that he'll throw it away, or she doesn't believe that he'll throw it away.

He'll keep hers closer.

Chapter Text

It all started when she was lagging behind her friends whenever she is surrounded by other students. Her friends noticed this and she usually caught up to them and brushed it off. It is nothing to worry about as she would say every time. It is nothing a big deal, she would add after.

Him? He noticed something else.

She would stare at the other students, mainly the females. At first, he thought she was longing for friendships like theirs, but then he caught her looking at lone girls as well. Then he thought she just wanted to be friends with them or something more, but she never made any attempt to get close to them.

After a few times this happened, he finally saw what it was.

She wasn't looking at the girls. She was looking at their hair, mainly long hairs that are tied in intricate patterns and such. Then, he saw her discreetly touching hers. It was very brief, gone much sooner than when it came. No one noticed. Either that or they just let it slide.

Not him. He noticed everything. And he also noticed something whenever he watched her looking at other girls' hair, a look in her eyes that quickly disappeared behind her smile when she caught up with her friends, pretending it never happened.

He saw jealousy.

"Son of a…"

He raises an eyebrow, somewhat silently surprised she can curse out loud. Thankfully, she's not as foul mouth as Bakugo. He's just about start writing the questions for his class' next test. He was going to the kitchen to grab a coffee. Just as the elevator door opens, he heard her voice. Intrigued, he quietly makes his way to the common room before stops at the doorway, looking in.

She's sitting in one of the couches with one leg underneath, leaning sideway against it. She is slowly and carefully twisting her hair, concentrating on the phone that lying right in front of her that she doesn't notice his presence. From the sound her phone makes, he guesses she is watching a tutorial video. Nonetheless, they all answered his suspicion that he had for a while.

Yaoyorozu is jealous of other girls' hair of how they are tied stylishly.

"Motherf…" she growls out as she yanks her hair out from the failed attempt of a braid. He almost winces at how hard she pulls it. She grabs her phone to pause the video before literally throwing it at the opposite end of the couch. Then she buries her face in her palms.

She looks as if she had given up.

His chest aches.

"What are you doing?" he finally voices out as he makes his way to her. Yaoyorozu jumps in her seat before staring at him with wide eyes, being caught off-guard. Her eyes are also brimming with unshed tears.

His chest aches once more.

"Oh, uh… Nothing," she stutters, breaking eye contact while wringing the hair that flows down her left shoulder. He lets out a long hum while raising an eyebrow, feigning confusion even though he already knows the answer. Yaoyorozu twitches guilty before relents in defeat. "I'm just jealous of their hair."

"Of whose hair?" he asks, furthering his feigned confusion.

"The other girls," she clarifies. "The way they tie their hair, the style, the intricacy, the beautiful complication, they just look so beautiful." Now she is twisting her hair with more force than before. "I want style my hair like them, but I can't go beyond a simple ponytail."

"Why hadn't you asked your friends?" He asks with genuine confusion this time, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

"Tsu only knows to do a simple bow." That makes sense, he guesses. He had rarely seen Asui out of the usual bow on her hair. He just never realizes that she can only do that. "The others have their hair short and didn't bother to learn it." That makes sense as well. "So I had to learn it myself. I had not made that much success."

He stifles a sigh at the bitterness of her tone at the last sentence. He glances at the thrown phone on the opposite side of the couch. The paused video shows a woman in the middle of braiding her hair over her left shoulder. The smile on her face suggests that all this make it all look easy, as simple as counting one, two and three.

He looks back at Yaoyorozu before him, silent and slumping. She's still wouldn't look at him in the eyes, and her hands are still wringing her hair on her left shoulder. Then he looks back at the phone.

Then he sighs.

He makes his way around the couch and then sits on the carpeted floor. He places his empty mug on the low table before looking back at Yaoyorozu, who is now looking at him in confusion. He beckons her over. She hesitates before climbing off the couch and kneels in front of him, with a very sizeable distance between them. He rolls his eyes.

"Sit closer; I can't reach for your hair all the way over there." He sees her stiffens.

"Ex… Excuse me, Mr. Aizawa?" she asks him, looking at him with wide shocked eyes.

"You heard me," he groans out, his patience is already wearing thin. Yaoyorozu hesitantly shuffles closer, and he urges her more when she is too far, until their knees practically touched.

Then, he bunches his hair in his hands before moving them over his left shoulder. He brushes a few loose strands with his hands, making sure all of them are over his shoulder. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Yaoyorozu is openly staring.

"I'll teach you how to make a braid first," he says, making one final comb with his fingers.

"Wait… What?" Yaoyorozu whispers in disbelief. "Excuse me, Mr. Aizawa but did you just say you'll teach me how to… braid?" He squints at her disbelieved tone but nods his head nonetheless. "You know how to style your shaggy hair?"

His right eye twitches. He doesn't know if he should be offended or not but he knows she doesn't mean it… to a point.

"May I?" he asks, masking his voice from irritation while reaching for her hair. She jolts from her shock before quickly nods her head. "Watch me ask I braid your hairs. Copy my movements and listen to my instructions. You can use my hair." That seems to throw her back to shock, judging how her body stiffens once more.

"Use your hair, Mr. Aizawa?"

"Did I stutter?"

He waits impatiently as Yaoyorozu hesitantly reaches for his hair. Then she combs it with her fingers, running her fingers through it.

"Wow…" he hears her whisper. She has an admired look in her eyes as she stares at his hair, continuously running her fingers through it. "I never expect it to be so… soft and smooth," she comments, breathlessly, surprised.

He silently wonders how many times he can surprise his student tonight.

"Now then, watch closely," he instructs as he gently gathers her hair into his hands. He waits until she does what he did. Then he splits her hair into three approximately equal sections, waiting for her to follow.

"I know this much, Mr. Aizawa," Yaoyorozu tells him, and he guesses as much. Then he starts weaving, making sure he makes his movements deliberately slow.

"One over the other, twist, grab with the other hand, repeat," he says. She nods her head as she tries to copy his hands. He pauses midway when she is still higher up from her work. He watches with mild amusement at the concentration on her face, so far as biting her lower lip.

Silently he finishes the rest of the braid. He shoves his hand into the pocket of his sweatpants and takes out a pair of black hair tie (he always keeps a spare). He places one on her knee while he ties her hair neatly. He waits for her to finish hers.

When she finally did, tying it with the offered tie, she cringes in her spot and flushes deep red.

"It looks… horrible," she comments quietly, refusing to make eye contact with him in embarrassment. She's not wrong, he thinks as he inspects the braid. It looks unkempt, and that's him saying that. He concludes that she doesn't know how to weave the hair just yet. He could understand why she might find it hard.

He looks back at her and finds her admiring her hair, braided cleanly and smoothly thanks to his calloused, scared but deft hands. She runs her hands gently through it, her glittering eyes glued onto it.

"I never know you could braid, Mr. Aizawa." He could hear the awe in her voice, hands still moving through the braid. "Is that why you kept your hair?" she asks, finally looking at him. The admiration didn't disappear. Instead they are now directed towards him.

He merely hums in affirmation, letting go of his braid. The movement catches her attention. She cringes once more at the sight of her work.

"Sorry for the disaster," she says, letting go of her own braid and fists her hands on her lap guiltily. She looks like she's expecting him to be angry. He isn't, but he won't voice that out. Instead, he hums once more as he pulls the hair tie, releasing her attempt of a braid.

"Start all over again," he commands, ruffling his hair until they are straight once more. Yaoyorozu is staring at her hair with great hesitant before reluctantly pulling the tie off.

"Are… are you sure? You don't have anything to do, Mr. Aizawa?"

"I have time."

Those questions can wait.

He still has an entire week anyway.

It's definitely not because this here right now is more important to him.

It took her a couple of tries to finally get the hang of it. The first few times she apologized to him profusely for ruining his hair, despite him saying to not mind about it and just focused on braiding. Afterward, she started to enjoy braiding and comfortable enough to giggle at him at how his hair thanks to her.

Once she got a decent looking braid, he complimented about how she had improved. She glowed at his praise and he could feel his chest swelled at the sight.

"How did you know how to braid, Mr. Aizawa?" she had asked him once in the middle of braiding his hair for the countless time. She had a smile on her face, enjoyed seeing the way how nimble her fingers had become.

He didn't give an answer. After all, it's obvious enough.

What seems like the umpteenth time he releases her hair, braided many times tonight. Yaoyorozu is not far being, being able to keep up to his speed. She tugs his braided hair once more, feeling each bumps before releasing it.

"Done," she says, nodding to herself in satisfaction. She looks at him expectantly as he inspects her work. He makes sure he puts a theatrical look while at it, pretending to be intensely critiquing the braid when he already knows the answer before she even let go.

"It's perfect," he comments. Yaoyorozu begins glowing as her eyes lighten up. She begins vibrating in her spot.

"Really?!" she asks him excitedly. When he nods she throws her hands to the air and whoops loudly but sheepishly quiets down when he shushes her. "I did it," she says under her breath, almost disbelief, as she stares at his braided hair.

"Now try to do it on your hair," he tells her. She is still smiling widely when she nods her head. "It is a different angle but same concept." He watches her as she undid his work, quickly runs her fingers through her hair before quickly but swiftly braids her own hair.

"How did I do?" she asks him, no less excited than before as she looks at him with glowing eyes. He gives her hair a single glance before nodding his head.

"You did well."

Yaoyorozu lets out a watery quiet laugh, muffling it with her hands. She looks extremely happy, and he has to suck in a deep breath when his chest gets very warm.

"Is there a specific hairstyle that you would like to do?" he asks. Yaoyorozu snaps her head to him, another glitter of hope in her eyes once more.

"You're going to teach me that too?" she whispers, almost in disbelief. He rolls his eyes in exasperated affection.

"You've got to tell me or else I don't know what it is." She gasps as she brightens up for another ten folds.

Suddenly, she lunges forward and throws her arms around his neck, letting out a joyful unrestricted laugh.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you so much, Mr. Aizawa!" she screams into his ear as her arms tighten around his neck. Then her mouth runs a mile, describing the hairstyle she wants. He suppresses an affectionate sigh and instead waits for her to finish.

It's definitely not how wide her smile is nor how bright her eyes are that make his chest warm. It's just that she is still hugging him the entire time that makes him warm. And it seems she won't be letting go anytime soon.

Nevertheless, he didn't regret putting a hold on those papers. He'll gladly spend the rest of the night with her.

"Yo, Shouta! Nice hair!"

"Your hair looks quite nice, Aizawa."

"I didn't take you to style your hair, Eraserhead."

He ignores his co-workers as he makes his way to his class. He expects it that much from them. After all, he's not the type to style his hair during work.

But today is an exception. And he wouldn't take it any other way.

Before he could enter his classroom he could already hear the buzzes inside, and the words "hair" and "Momo" come up very often. He opens the door and for a split second he could see Yaoyorozu's table is crowded before his k- students rush to their seats.

Then he notices how everyone is now staring at him; the girls are particularly sparkling. He ignores them and proceeds to start the class. Yaoyorozu is practically glowing in her seat. He wouldn't blame her. She's very proud of her work, of her multiple braids tied together. It's like a piece of art. He knows so.

After all, she did his as well.

Chapter Text

The place is crowded, and by all things holy he is very uncomfortable. The people here are mostly parents whose children attend UA, mingling with the heroes that work here. The students are here as well, accompanying their parents.

Him? He is staying far away from the crowd as far as possible but close enough to keep an eye out for his ki- students.

Nedzu thought it was a good idea for the parents to go to the school and meet the heroes who they entrusted with their children. It will make them see what their children had dealt with here at UA. Personally, he doesn't agree to such idea; it leaves UA vulnerable, opened for a potential villain attack, and unnecessary. They already know who and what they are dealing with.

But he cannot argue with the mouse's (bear? Cat? Whatever) logic. This is important to keep a good image for UA while simultaneously gaining the parents' trust. But... this is for the students, the children, his child- students too. They may be hero in training, but they are still children, still young, still have a long road ahead of them.

Let them be kids.

The hall had been heavily decorated for today's arrangement. Rows of food are placed on the long tables he and some others had arranged just last night (He had already lost enough sleep). Soft easy-to-the-ear music is played in the background courtesy of Present Mic. Soft lights are calmly dancing as the hall is filled with chatters and laughs.

It is a last minute arrangement. The heroes had just over a week to arrange everything according to the plan handed to them. Due to this, not all parents can come for a short notice. He knew this would happen, and it is further proven when the parents of his ki- students came to meet him.

He made sure to have the conversation done quickly and straight to the point. He is already uncomfortable enough in this situation. Thankfully, they understand and content with going to the other heroes (and his students had help as well, he is so very thankful of them that he almost postpone the test tomorrow. Almost).

He scans the crowd from the sideline, keeping a very close eye on his students, his ki- his students. He takes notice the smile on their faces as they are surrounded by their family, faces he is familiar with. They look content, safe. And he is content himself seeing them as such. All of his kids are- his students are there.

Except for one.

He narrows his eyes and scans the crowd one more time, taking note of the missing student. His heartbeat starts increasing and feels a pit at the bottom of his stomach start to open. His thought runs a thousand mile per second and starts tracking back his memories from when he saw his kid- students first today. He's hoping his memory still serve him well.

He remembers seeing her entered through the gate and into the hall. She was with Uraraka and Hagakure those times. So she had come since this event started.

Did something happened between here and then? Had something happened to her? Is she sick? Did she fell down and had been called for help and no one heard? Had she passed out somewhere? Had she been kidnapped under his watchful eyes without him noticing?

He takes in a deep breath to calm his heart.

Maybe he's overreacting. Maybe she is fine after all. Maybe she's gone to the toilet and will be back shortly. Maybe she truly is okay.

Maybe.

He worries.

He starts slinking away from the edge of the crowd and into the shadows, searching for her. He squashes down the deep worry inside him but quickens his silent steps nonetheless.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to go far. He finds her standing in a lonely corner far away from the crowd, from everyone. But he does not relax.

She had been ecstatic for today when he informed his class last week. She wears a green dress that he finds perfectly suit her. She even asked him to teach her how to style her hair, just for today. She had told him personally how much she missed her parents and her siblings, so far telling him their favorite foods and such (And he stayed and listened). She had not stopped beaming since the announcement.

None of them could attend.

Her parents are among the unfortunates who are unable to come to the event due to it being a last minute thing. They could not clear their schedule for today; they had to sit this one out.

And now, here she is, alone in a corner with no one by her side. Her hands, usually have a single finger at her lips, are now bunching her dress into fists, crumpling it after taken so much effort to make them clean of any wrinkle. Her hair, tied intricately after he taught her how to style it, is now looking gloomy due to her hung head as her eyes glue to the floor.

Never had he seen such a gloom look on a face before. His chest tightens so painfully his hand reaches up to grip the shirt.

He did not hesitate. He comes out from the shadows and silently walks over to her. She hasn't noticed his presence yet until he leans back against the wall when her head snaps up to him.

He doesn't know what to say to her, so he opts to stay quiet instead. Thankfully, Asui understands. He watches the crowd before him but his attention is fully on his… student beside him. She attempts to improve her posture, no longer gazing at the floor anymore but her head still dips slightly.

He hates this event Nedzu had put up, but he hates it even more when his students are not themselves. Seeing Asui like this makes his chest tightens painfully. While he doesn't pick favorites (definitely not because all of them are his favorites) this is not the Asui he holds so closely.

Just before he could reach out the atmosphere completely changes. The lights change hue and a new song is played. Then, all the female students start dragging their father to the cleared area. He internally winces as they start to slow dance in circle.

Another thing he quite disapproves of: a show of bonding between a father and daughter. Really, there is no need but damn it he cannot argue thanks to his softened heart. And the students have a soft smile on their face. He silently sighs. He guesses it is okay.

Asui bows her head even more. Her hands bunch her dress even tighter. Her body slightly shaking it is almost unnoticeable. This dance is a very bad timing for her.

And when he hears her sniffles his heart cracks in many places. His hands tremble in his pockets, fighting hard to resist the urge to grip his pained chest.

He looks back at the crowd, watching as the father and daughter having their moment. Some are timid and shy. Some are lost in their own little world. Then he makes his decision.

Silently but never hesitant, he holds out his hand towards her. It gains her attention and she looks at it in confusion. Then her head snaps up to him so fast he is mildly concern she'll might get a whiplash. Her already wide eyes are staring at him, even wider than before. They are brimming with unshed tears. He can't tell if it is from earlier or right now.

He catches her glancing at the crowd for a split second before returning back to him. He catches the implication and then glances at their feet before up at her eyes and then lightly shrugs. She slowly sucks in her breath, catching his implication.

Slowly, one of her hands releases her dress and reaches for his. She hesitates for a second, pulling back slightly before gently grasping it. Then, they turn towards each other. His other hand is on her waist while hers reaches up to his shoulder but low enough to be comfortable for her. Their other hands are grasping each other's.

Then, they start to sway to the music. Not used to dance, even as simple as a small sway, he is consciously try to keep his feet away from stepping onto hers. Asui, on the other hand, is a lot more elegant and graceful than him.

She hasn't stopped staring at him, eyes still wider than usual. Her lips are also slightly parted. She is still in shock.

He is very well aware what he had done, the implication of decision to ask her for this slow dance. Just seeing the other students dancing with their father is already enough of a hint. And he doesn't regret his decision. He will not hesitate to ask again in the future.

So here they are, in their corner away from everyone, away from the lights, dancing a slow dance. Neither once had said a single word. They ignore the world around them, left alone in their own with each other.

It's amazing how they can communicate without even using words, and he is thankful of it. He's pretty bad with words. Luckily his students know him well enough to see beyond his words, that they can read between the lines. And out of everyone, Asui is probably the one in his class who knows him the most.

Then, slowly, Asui pulls her hands back before wrapping her arms around his torso. Then she squeezes. He responds by wrapping an arm around her in protective comfort, while his other hand reaches up and places on her head, keeping mind of the hairstyle.

He hears her sniffles into his costume and her arms tighten. He hugs her closer and gently rubs her head in a comforting manner.

They had stopped dancing, he realizes. They still continue to hold each other, still refuse to let go of each other. He continues to rub her head. He feels her breathing in his embrace. Her arms loosen and they lower down to his waist before tightening.

He stops rubbing her head and lowers his hand to clasp it with his other on her back, but then he feels a tug on the back on his shirt. The hand returns back to her head, his thumb gently rubbing in circle on her hair. The tugging subdues. He releases a silent snort.

The light suddenly brightens. The students and their father dispersed from the clearance. He watches as the students stay close to their father as hush murmurs fill the hall. Then he looks down at Asui in his arms. She still holds onto him, still refuses to let him go.

For her, he gladly stays.

Then, he feels her arms loosen but not release him yet. He knows the implication. He can finally releases her if he wants but she doesn't mind if this goes on longer. He takes a glance at her face.

No, he won't release her just yet.

Nedzu finally climbs up the stage and he lets out a sigh of relief. This means the event is coming to an end soon. The principal's voice echoes throughout the hall through the PA but he barely listens to the words. He focuses all his attention on the girl in his arms, thumb still rubbing in circle.

Asui shifts her head, closer to the left side of his chest and presses her ear over it. He hopes his heart is calm enough to sooth hers. It must have hit her quite bad for her to still be affected by it, still seeking comfort. His heart stutters. He hopes Asui doesn't hear that.

The crowd suddenly applauses. He looks up to see Nedzu walks off the stage and the crowd starts to disperse. He releases another sigh of relief. Finally the event ends, he can finally get away from it all. And thankfully he is not assigned in the cleaning duty. And even if he was, he will probably not attend it since he has a bigger matter at hand. Or in this case, in his arms.

He takes a glance at her face once more and he sees something that makes him calm down in relief and internally melt.

There on her face is the Asui smile he comes to love, and swears to protect.

Now, he can finally pulls away seeing his kid- his student is better now to smile her smile. She gives the said smile up at him once they are apart but still has one hand grabbing his sleeve; she still wants him close. He gives her one final pat on the head and he feels her leaning into his hand.

Then he starts leading her out the hall. He doesn't have any other choice anyway; she has not let go of him yet. And he doesn't mind it a single bit. Outside, he watches as the students interact with their parents. Seeing this, he glances at Asui from the corner of his eyes.

She doesn't give any visible reaction, but she did stare at them intently. He leads her away from where everyone is going.

They are the only ones heading to the dorms. The other students will be busy with their parents, and they won't be returning for a while. It will be him and Asui in the dorms. He stops at the door entrance and looks at Asui, a silent question if she wants to be here or with her friends instead.

Her hand on his sleeve tightens. That is enough of an answer and he opens the door and enters.

Once they are in the common room he places a hand on her back as a silent gesture. She looks up at him, staring at him with silent gaze. Her hand on his sleeve is still holding on tightly.

He gets the message, and gives her a softer and reassured look. She relaxes but hesitantly releases his sleeve. Once she does, he watches her quickly makes her way to her room, almost jogging. It makes his heart stutters seeing that she is still not quite recovered just yet and still wants him close. To distract himself he heads over to the kitchen and decides to make some tea.

He hears her rapid footsteps long before he could see her. She appears at the doorway in her casual wear, just as he requested. What makes him concern is how frantic she looks and how wide her eyes are. Once her eyes land on him she visibly relaxes and her eyes less wide.

His heart stutters again. She must've run from her room to the common room and panicked when he wasn't there. She must've think that he had abandoned her.

No, he would never.

Her hair is still tied from earlier; she has not taken it out yet. He beckons her over with a hand and she is instantly by his side. He turns her around with one gently hand, and she does not resist a single bit. He undid her hair, letting it flow down to her knees before combing it with his fingers.

He takes a glance of her face. Her eyes are closed and her lips are curled into a smile. The amount of trust she puts into him. It makes his chest warm.

Once he is sure her hair is straight he starts to tie the knot she usually has (This time she was the one who taught him how to do it). Then, he gives her head a pat before pulling away. She turns and gives him a wide smile, and he could feel his own lips start to curl.

The kettle whistles off just in time. He quickly makes tea for both of them. Asui stands close to him but far enough to not intrusive. He hands her the mug before they make their way to the common room. They sit in the middle of the couch, close enough that their thighs almost touch. He grabs the remote and turns on the television but keeps the volume down.

He quickly finishes his tea while Asui takes a little longer with hers as they watch the show displayed. He barely listens to it; his attention is mostly on the girl beside him. She sits quietly with her mug in both of her hands. She looks content, if the smile on her lips is any indication, and that is what important to him. She finishes her tea before sets it on the coffee table in front of them.

When Asui returns to her seat she presses herself to his side, half turns towards him. He releases a hand and places it on her head, pulling it to rest on his shoulder. He feels her slumps in relax under his palm, almost molding to his side. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the smile gotten wider, happier.

And so does his heart.

Soon enough, she falls asleep there.

He quiet sighs, letting his eyes close before leaning his head on top of hers. He feels himself starting to doze off as well. He doesn't mind; it's comfortable here.

He feels her shifts under his palm, curling closer to him as if seeking for his warmth. He lets her. She needs it. And he is willing to give.

He'll be there for his students. No force in this world will stop him.

Chapter Text

"Where is he?"

"Don't worry about it. He should be here any minute."

"But it's been a minute six times already."

He holds back a snort at that statement. Though to be honest he does find it quite humorous. He purposely makes his footsteps louder as me makes his way to the common room (he's an underground hero; he needs to keep his footsteps silent, and sneaking up on Mic and his kids are just added bonus) even though he doesn't need to since his companion's footsteps are already loud enough.

The other day his female kids (he can't deny it anymore, they're his kids) decided to have a sleepover in the common room. No, he wasn't eavesdropping; he was passing by to grab coffee from the kitchen. He definitely did not wait around the corner to eavesdrop and use the coffee as an excuse.

Somewhere along the way, between the kitchen and his journey back to his room, he agreed to join them in their sleepover. He doesn't remember how but surprisingly he is not against that idea. And besides, this is an opportunity for him to take. Not for him, but for his companion.

His kids look up when they hear him entering the common room and smile with joy seeing that he did come. Then their eyes trail to his companion and their smiles widen even bigger.

"Eri-chan!"

Eri smiles back at them shyly, even giving a timid wave.

Yes, this sleepover will be good for her. Eri needs to socialize. Bringing her to this sleepover is a good decision, killing two birds with one stone.

"Mr. Aizawa, why didn't you tell us you'd bring Eri-chan with us?" Mina squeals, crouching in front of the little girl and smiles widely at her.

"Is that why you wanted to join us?" Uraraka asks him, now taking resident beside Mina.

"Eri-chan, you look very cute!"

"I had not seen you for a while!"

"How have you been, Eri-chan?"

"I missed you, Eri-chan."

The girls are crowding at his feet, cooing and squealing around Eri. Then, he feels a small hand tightens on his pant. He looks down at her just in time to see her shrinking, retreating behind his leg almost hugging it, causing him to rumble in displeasure.

"Hey," he lets out with a low threatening growl. The girls instantly shut up and stiffen. They look up at him glaring at them with red eyes and floating hairs. "You're crowding her," he points out as he bends down to picks up Eri and hoister her to his hips. Instantly her hands grip his shirt tightly, leaning into his chest for silent comfort.

They all stand up and have a look of shame on their faces, rightfully so. He takes in a deep breath, ready to scold them before swallows it down. He releases a long sigh and closes his eyes, turning off his quirk and letting his hair falls.

They don't need a scolding, especially on the beginning of their sleepover that they are excited about. He's not going to ruin the mood.

"Next time, don't do it again," he says instead, opening his eyes and glares at them with much lesser heat behind it. They nod their head with a chorus of "Yes, Mr. Aizawa" together. He nods his head before turning his attention to the little girl in his arms.

Eri is still holding onto his shirt, though less tight than before. She is looking at them with hesitant eyes.

"Eri," he says gently. "Do you want to get down?" he asks. She locks eyes with him and bites her lips hesitantly. Her hand on his shirt tightens and she shakes her head. "Alright then," he sighs.

Eri is never shy around his kids, but he guesses the crowding earlier had really overwhelmed her. Not quite a good start for her, not quite to what he had planned from the beginning. Thankfully, one of his kids has come to the rescue.

"Eri-chan, do you want to help me bake cupcakes?" Uraraka steps forward as the rest had back away and gave them space. That peaks Eri's interest, seeing how her eyes light up.

"Cupcakes?" she says, unfamiliar with the word. Then she gives him an inquisitive look, silently asking him for answers.

"They are like cakes, but smaller," he provides gently. Now Eri has a look of amazement, interested. She turns back to Uraraka to answer her question but quickly stops herself. Then she looks back at him, a silent permission. He nods his head.

"Yes please," Eri answers, looking back at Uraraka once more. Uraraka claps her hands cheerfully before making her way to the kitchen. He follows her with Eri still in his arms.

"You got everything?" he asks Uraraka even though he knows that he had secretly stocked everything up the day before yesterday.

"Yep! Everything's here." Uraraka spares him and Eri a smile before she takes out a bowl, a whisk and everything related. He pulls the nearest chair to Uraraka and gently sets Eri down on it. Thankfully she is recovered from earlier.

He does not seat far, wanting to keep a close eye on them, and a closer one on Eri. Thankfully, alongside with Eri, he brings his work along with him.

He notices Tsuyu is staying close to Eri. Silently he relaxes knowing there is another person there for Eri.

"Mr. Aizawa, why?" he hears Ashido whines beside him. He glances at her from the corner of his eyes, noticing the pout on her lips as she glares at the grading papers. He didn't answer, merely taking out his glasses and starts getting to work.

"Ms. Ochaco, where do you learn to bake cupcake?"

"I had some help."

He didn't miss the fond smile on Uraraka's lips.

He pretends he didn't see her eyes flicker towards him for a split second.

His heart is not swelling.

"This isn't the usual grading papers."

He snaps his head to the side to see Ashido holding a thin colorful book in her hand. He grabs it out from her hand and slaps it on her head, causing her to yelp.

"Get your nose out of your teacher's business," he tells her. She even had the audacity to look through his papers, and thankfully she grabbed none of it. She pouts as she rubs her head where he had slapped her. "This is for Eri's," he tells her as he holds the book up. "She needs a small catchup before she starts school soon."

"I can teach her!" Ashido exclaims brightly. He narrows his eyes at her, skeptical but she gives him a confident smile. He hums before nodding his head.

"Eri," he calls out. The little girl looks up in the middle of frosting the finished cupcake – sloppy and messy but she looks like she is having fun – and gazes at him with wide questioning eyes. "Once you're done and all cleaned up, Ashido here will teach you."

"Okay," Eri nods. She finishes on the current cupcake before handing the plastic bag to Uraraka. She carefully climbs down the chair with Asui's help and heads over to the sink to wash her hand under Asui's supervision. Then she quickly rushes to where Ashido sits.

The pink girl decides to reside the seat right next to him and Eri sits next to her. He makes sure to put his grading papers away from Ashido's prying eyes even though she is busy with Eri, but he's not taking any chances.

He is impressed at her teaching skill but not surprise.

Tsuyu is the furthest away, sitting silently on the other side of Eri. He curiously glances at her before going back to his work.

"You can teach very well, Ms. Mina," he hears Eri speaks up, momentarily distracted from her work.

"Well, I have great teacher who taught me everything," Ashido giggles. He feels her elbow nudges into his slightly, almost intentionally than accidentally, but he ignores it.

And no, his heart is not swelling again. It's defin-

"Sing me a song, you're a singer. Do me a wrong you're a bringer of e-"

The ringtone surprises him slightly but he does not show. He almost reaches for his phone if he had not remembered that he had put it on silence earlier, which means it is someone else's phone.

"Ms. Kyouka?"

"Yes, Eri-chan?"

"What was that?"

"It was my phone, Eri-chan."

"The song… it sounds familiar."

"Well, someone recommended it to me not too long ago."

"Oohh."

"It's great. His taste in music is great as well."

He hides his snort by blowing his hair from his eyes. But, hearing Jiro smothering her chuckles and Tsuyu's giggles, he failed.

No, his heart is not swelling.

"Guys," Hagakure whines drawly, sprawling onto the empty space on the table next to him with a light bang, right on top of the papers. It startles Eri but a quick comfort from Tsuyu calms her down.

He is thankful of her.

"Are we done yet? I want to watch some movies already," Hagakure continues, still whining.

"In a bit," Uraraka answers. "I just need to cook up some popcorn."

"Mind turning on the pot for me, Uraraka?" he asks. He had been meaning to brew some coffee but his kids momentarily distract him from it.

"Yes, Mr. Aizawa!" Uraraka answers cheerfully, already making her way to the pot.

"Uhmm… Ms. Toru… right?" he hears Eri starts hesitantly.

"That's right, Eri-chan!"

"I like your shirt. It's really nice."

"Thank you! I got some incredible feedbacks to pick out my clothes!" Hagakure giggles.

He feels a (invisible) hand squeezes his forearm slightly before it goes away. He huffs, blowing his hair from his eyes while pushing up his glasses.

His heart definitely did not swell this time.

"Shouta?"

"Yes, Eri?"

"Do you want to tie your hair? You kept blowing it away from your eyes. Is it bothering you?"

Bless her sweet heart. She's very perspective.

"Do you want to tie my hair, Eri?" He asks as he puts down his red pen and turns toward her. Thankfully Ashido has the decency to know to lean back so Eri could look at him better.

"Yes please."

"Alright."

Tsuyu already brings a chair behind him before either of them could move. Once more, he is thankful of her. She holds Eri steady while she starts to braid his hair. Seeing how he has free time, he grabs his red pen once more and returns back to his work.

"Eri-chan, would you like me to braid your hair?" he hears Yaoyorozu asks behind him. He doesn't need to turn around to see Eri's permission and nods his head (carefully or else he might mess up her work that she is currently working on).

"Yes please."

He hums internally. He wonders how the three of them look right now. With Yaoyorozu braiding Eri's hair while Eri braiding his it must be quite a sight.

He hears other girls coo and croon at them, hears a few snaps of their phone and giggles. He ignores them and focuses on his work.

And when he asks for those photos later it is very definitely for Eri. It is definitely not for him.

"It is finished."

"Done!"

He forcefully swallows to cover the small curl on his lips when he hears two simultaneous answers. He feels Eri letting go of his hair, now braided beautifully. He knows so because all of her works are beautiful in his eyes.

"Ms. Momo, your braid looks pretty," he hears Eri voicing out. He guesses she is currently inspecting her hair.

"Thank you, Eri-chan!"

"It looks… familiar."

"I learned from the best."

"Ooh."

He releases a silent snort while keeping busy with his task at hand.

"Mr. Aizawa."

"Yeah?"

"Will you braid mine?"

"Sure." He had already put down his pen before he even gave her his verbal answer. He stands up and approaches Yaoyorozu who turns around to present her hair, now loose from its usual ponytail. He quickly but elegantly weaves her hair into a braid and ties it with the offered tie.

"Thanks, Mr. Aizawa." Yaoyorozu turns around and gives him a warm smile when he is finished.

It almost makes his heart swell. Almost.

"Why are you always staying very close, Ms. Tsuyu?" he hears Eri saying. He turns and watches as Asui helps her getting off the chair safely. Honestly, he is wondering that himself.

"Because being alone is not good, Eri-chan."

Well, that is good enough answer he guesses. He returns back to his seat and picks up his red pen once more. There are still quite a lot more to go.

"But I am not alone."

"It's okay to have someone close nonetheless."

"…Have you felt lonely lately, Ms. Tsuyu?"

"…Yes… But…"

Hearing Tsuyu pauses, he turns and looks up at them and sees Tsuyu gazing at him, openly smiling at him.

"I got comforted by the best person ever."

Damn it, it is getting hard to not get his heart swell.

"Guys, hurry up or I'm starting the movie without you," he hears Hagakure calls out from the common room.

"Don't you dare!" Mina rebates as she dashes to the common room. The rest soon follows except for Asui and Eri, both are looking at him.

"Mr. Aizawa, you're not joining us?"Asui asks. He grunts before turning back to his work.

"I'll bring the popcorn once it is ready," he replies instead, shuffling some papers around and takes out the right one.

"So you're not joining us?"

"I'll sit this one out."

"You're not watching movies with us, Shouta?" he halts in his movement when he hears Eri voice.

"…for now."

"Okay."

There had been a heated debate earlier. Ms. Tsuyu had reassured her that it was non-threatening and that this happened every time. Ms. Mina was shouting about "disc knee" while Ms. Toru shouted "dream works". When Ms. Ochaco said something about "illuminate" all she got was pure silence that she blushed heavily and backed down.

Everyone finally agreed to first watch disc knee, which Eri found out it is actually called "Disney", or is it backward Gisney? Nonetheless she watches the movie with captured eyes, fully engrossed with childish attention. She had never watched this movie before; maybe she will ask Shouta to buy her one for her to watch at home.

But then, a foreign word catches her attention. She doesn't know what it means, but it could mean something special seeing how the younger character in the movie uses it to refer the older character. She turns to the other occupant of the couch (she sits in the middle) and shakes her arm to gain her attention.

"Ms. Momo?"

"Yes, Eri-chan?" the black haired girl turns her head away from the movie to give Eri her full attention. Eri should also mention that there was another argument on who gets to sit on the couch that is directly in front of the television. Eri, Ms. Momo and Ms. Mina had earned their place (though everyone gave the middle spot to Eri nonetheless).

"What is a "dad"?"

It seems Ms. Momo is not the only one freezes at her question. Eri looks around in concern when everyone in the room gives her a look she could not recognize. When Ms. Toru pauses the movie, Eri starts to panic.

"Hey, it's okay," Ms. Momo quickly reassures her with a soft smile, seemingly noticed her panic.

"Should I not say it?" she asks hesitantly, still looking around with concern, but Ms. Tsuyu's kind reassuring smile relaxes her a little bit.

"No, there is nothing wrong with it. It's just… it surprised us," Ms. Momo clarifies.

"So it's okay if I ask?"

"Perfectly fine."

"Okay… What is a "dad", Ms. Momo?" Eri asks again now calm enough to know that everyone did not mean harm. Suddenly, everyone gathers around the couch but enough to give her plenty of space to breathe.

"A dad is…" Ms. Momo starts hesitantly, and then her lips pressed into a thin line before she speaks again. "A dad is, at its simplest, is someone who looks after you and cares for you."

"Ooh?"

"A dad is someone who you feel safe, someone who you equate to safety, secure," Ms. Mina tells her with a wide smile. Eri looks at her with a tilted head.

"Someone I feel safe? Like, Mr. Izuku?"

"No. Well, yes but… no…?" Ms. Mina looks lost for words very quickly.

"A dad is someone who you trust fully without any doubt," Ms. Ochaco picks up the conversation. Eri turns her head towards her with same curious look as before. "Yes, it's like De- Mr. Izuku, but more."

"More?"

"Yes, he is someone special, someone who is there for you." Eri watches as Ms. Ochaco's smile turns fond before she giggles. "He is someone who will teach you how to cook even though he himself doesn't know how to, so you two learn together."

"He is someone who will guide you when you are feeling lost and helpless," Ms. Mina adds as Ms. Ochaco giggles some more.

"He is someone who is there for you when no one else can," Jirou supplies fondly with a soft smile that Eri has never seen on her before.

"He is someone who you can trust, even with fashion sense!" Ms. Toru poses, gesturing her shirt that Eri complimented earlier.

"He is someone who will share his knowledge so you could grow." Ms. Momo touches her braided hair fondly. Eri is a little confused at this action. Maybe there is something more to the braid?

"He is some who you can call… home." Ms. Tsuyu has a soft smile; she seems to be lost in a memory seeing how her eyes faded slightly.

"Even though at times he can be pretty sh-"

"Shh!"

"So he's… special and important?" Eri asks, not quite sure of what a "dad" is. They seem to describe a different person but it is actually just one. Can just one person do that many?

"He is someone pretty special. He is the one who you trust the most. He's the person who you go to when you are facing a problem. He is someone who can make all your problems go away with a single gaze."

Eri widens her eyes, now finally realizing.

'A gaze… that can make problems… go away…'

Eri reaches up and grasps her horn.

"Eri-chan?" Momo calls out when the little girl stays quiet for a long time, with a hand on her horn. She looks at everyone else in the room, sharing their concern with her. Then, she suddenly gets off the couch before quietly pads away from them and to the kitchen. Everyone shares a look once more before following her.

They stay at the doorway and watch silently as Eri walks over to Aizawa, who is sitting at one of the many chairs around the dining table, with a fresh mug of coffee beside him. The man stops whatever he is doing with the papers in front of him and turns his attention to the girl staring up at him.

Eri is saying something to him that they couldn't hear from where they are, too far and too quiet. What they can see is Aizawa's reaction.

They could see him stiffen as his eyes widen in disbelief. The pen he is holding clatters onto the table as his hands shake. Then, slowly, he reaches down and picks up Eri to put her on his lap before hugging her tightly. Eri hugs back just as tightly.

The girls croon quietly, touched and tearing up at such a beautiful sight.

They don't know what the exchange was, but they have the general idea.

"OH MY GOODNESS!"

The entire class shakes at the loud voice, causing everyone to flinch in surprise.

"What riled Present Mic up this early in the morning?" one of them wonders out loud before the chattering fills the classroom once more. Soon enough, right on time as usual, the classroom door slides open and everyone is instantly back to their seats. Their homeroom teacher walks in but he's not alone.

"Eri-chan!" everyone cheers, all smiling widely. The white haired girl smiles back at them and their hearts instantly melts.

"Mr. Aizawa! Why are you bringing Eri-chan to class?"

"I'll get to that," he answers before he leans down to Eri's height. "Why don't you introduce yourself to everyone?" he asks the little girl, much to her and everyone's confusion.

"But everyone knows who I am," she says, tilting her head to the side.

"Do it either way. At least people will recognize you more now that you have a full name."

"Okay!"

Everyone shares a confused look with each other, clueless, as Eri steps forward and to the middle of the class. She bows respectfully with a wide happy smile.

"Good morning, it is nice to meet you! My name is Eri Aizawa!"

The classroom explodes.