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It happened so suddenly. One minute Aizawa was telling his class that they “would never catch up to a villain if they were really this slow” as they ran through an obstacle course, the next he was on the ground. Kaminari was the first to notice.
“Is he seriously napping right now?” he asked, drawing his classmates’ attention to their prone homeroom teacher.
Tsuyu was the first to reach him, concern overpowering any desire to win the race. The closer she got, the more worried she became. At the sight of Aizawa’s pale skin, she felt her stomach drop. “Guys, guys, come here! Something’s wrong!” she called out.
The others rushed to her side. Iida spoke up, taking charge as was his duty as class president. “He needs medical attention. I will take him to Recovery Girl. Momo, will you keep the class in check while we’re gone?” The vice-rep nodded anxiously. Iida picked Aizawa up bridal style, careful not to jostle him too much as he rushed as fast as he could toward Recovery Girl’s office.
“Oh, damn.”
The whispered words of shock might as well have been spoken at full volume given the overall volume of the classroom during free study time meant that they were heard by everyone.
Present Mic raised an eyebrow, looking up from his stack of papers. “Tetsutetsu, is there something you’d like to share with the class?”
The student flushed in embarrassment. He technically wasn’t supposed to have his phone out right now, and he knew that, but Kirishima had texted him and he couldn’t resist opening the message. “Uh, well, Kirishima from 1-A just texted me. Aizawa collapsed during class and they had to take him to Recovery Girl.”
Present Mic blanched. He stood up quickly, shaking his desk when his knee slammed into it, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I have to go. Behave while I’m gone.”
Class 1-B watched in shock as he fled the room.
Weird.
Shouta Aizawa woke up with what felt like the worst hangover of his life. He tried to open his eyes, but the bright lights of whatever room he was in kept him from doing so. He groaned.
As his senses slowly caught up, he realized he was definitely not in his own bed. In fact, judging by the hardness of the mattress beneath him and the combination antiseptic and powder smell of the room, he’d guess he was in Recovery Girl’s office. Strange. The last thing he remembered was directing his class through an obstacle course.
He tried once more to open his eyes, finding it easier the second time around. He heard a gasp and a whispered, “Shouta,” from his left and looked over to see his husband, teary-eyed and wobbly-lipped, staring at him with more concern than he had since he woke up in the hospital after the USJ attack.
“What happened?”
Hizashi opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by Recovery Girl, who had just re-entered the room. “You collapsed during class, my dear. Do you have any idea why that might have happened?”
Aizawa frowned. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“You’re correct, young man.” She gave him a hard look. “You collapsed from exhaustion and dehydration. When was the last time you slept?”
“Last night, I—”
Recovery Girl cut him off. “More than two hours, Mr. Aizawa?”
Shouta looked down. “At least a week,” he huffed.
Hizashi squeezed his hand. “Shouta, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you. Is that why you’ve been spending more time in your dorm apartment than in ours? To hide the fact that you haven’t been sleeping from me?”
Aizawa at least had the decency to look ashamed. “I didn’t want you to worry, Hizashi. I know you have a lot on your plate right now, and I didn’t want to burden you with my problems.”
“Shouta,” Hizashi pushed, “we’ve been married ten years now. You should know by now that you’re never, ever a burden. I always want to listen to your problems and help you solve them.”
Shouta sighed and opened his mouth to respond, but before he could he was startled by a loud crashed as a pile of his students crashed through the door to the room. Yes, a pile. It seemed they all wanted to listen through the door, so when it finally came down under the weight, they fell into a heap of squirming limbs onto the hard tile floor. Groans of pain and shouts of frustration could be heard from the students on the bottom of the pile.
As the students slowly disentangled themselves from each other, Iida spoke up from the back of the crowd, stepping forward to be seen. “I apologize for the intrusion, Mr. Aizawa, Mr. Mic, we were concerned and hoping to hear news of Mr. Aizawa’s recovery.” He finished his statement with a deep bow of respect. The rest of the class was abuzz murmurs of agreement.
“I’m fine,” Aizawa asserted, although he soon after looked shameful under Present Mic’s stern look.
“Your teacher,” Mic explained, “collapsed from exhaustion. But he’s recovering now and he’ll be good as new in a day or two.”
The class expressed their relief with smiles and shouts, happy to hear that their teacher would be okay.
Before the teachers could kick them out, though, Kirishima spoke up, having been pushed to the front of the crowd by his friends.
“Um, hey, I don’t mean to pry or anything but when we were listening through the door, we heard Mic say something and we wanted to know, uh,” he looked at his classmates for reassurance and received encouraging nods and thumbs up in response, “are you guys married?”
Mic’s eyes flicked to Aizawa before moving quickly back to the class. “Well, you see—”
“Yes,” Aizawa stated firmly.
Mic looked at him, shocked. “Shou, what—”
“Someone was bound to find out eventually, I’m surprised it took this long, though I’m not surprised it was this class to do it.” He rolled his eyes fondly. “Yes, we’re married. We’ve been married ten years. We’ve kept it mostly hidden both due to public perception and because as an underground hero, I didn’t want the spotlight that would come with being so publicly connected to Present Mic so early in my career. However, I’ve been thinking it over more lately, and with the recent publicity our class has been getting, I don’t see any reason to keep it hidden any longer.”
Present Mic stared at his husband, eyes welling up with unshed tears once again. “Shouta,” he whispered softly, unable to keep the smile off his face, “are you sure?”
Aizawa nodded. “As sure as I was when I agreed to marry you in the first place.”
Finally breaking the class’s silence, Mina squealed. Loudly. “Oh my God, this is so exciting. You’ll be the biggest pro heroes to be publicly out. This is huge.” She paused. “We don’t have to be afraid anymore. If you guys can do it, so can I. Hey, everyone,” she turned to her classmates, “I’m bi.” She waited nervously for a reaction.
The class was silent for a stretch before, seemingly all at once, everyone was chattering excitedly, congratulating Mina on coming out and showing their support.
Once the class settled, Kaminari spoke up next. “I’m bi, too!” he proclaimed. He received a similar reaction, which prompted a chain of coming out.
“I’m gay.” Kirishima, nervous.
“I’m bi.” Midoriya, shaky.
“I’m a lesbian.” Momo, whispered.
“I’m bi.” Jirou, hopeful.
“I’m fuckin' gay, I guess.” Bakugo, reluctant.
And so on.
Within 15 minutes, there were only a few in the class who had not come out as queer in some way.
Soon after, the class was ushered out by Recovery Girl, telling them Aizawa needed to rest to get better. They were instructed to go back to the dorms for the rest of the day.
Once the door had shut behind them and the room was quiet once more, Hizashi squeezed Shouta’s hand, the one he hadn’t let go of the during the whole discussion. The pair sat in silence for a few minutes, quietly enjoying each other’s presence, occasionally facing one another to smile brightly. Finally, Present Mic broke the silence, as he is often wont to do. “Shouta, we can hold hands in public now,” he said softly, awestruck by the idea after pushing it to the far reaches of his mind for so long. He paused. “This is a big step, though, Shou. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Hizashi, I have been waiting for this day for fifteen years. And besides, look what us coming out has already done for our students alone. Young heroes, the next generation, they need this. We need to break the ice, to pave the way. For them.”
“We can announce it on my show tonight. In the meantime, you need to sleep. And I’m going to be with you the entire time, right here by your side, just like I always have been and always will be. I love you, Shouta.”
Aizawa leaned closer to Mic, placing a soft kiss on his husband’s forehead. “I love you, too, Hizashi.”