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He woke with a start. His heart racing in his chest and blood pounding in his ears. The screams of his dream still echoed in his head as he rubbed his face to scrub the exhaustion from it. Yamada tried to tell himself that it was only a dream, but what were dreams other than ghosts of memories? And his memories were filled with regret over ill conceived choices.
Perhaps a nap right after patrol wasn't the best idea, but he's had worse ones.
Hizashi looked over at his phone, its ringing being the source of his waking, and almost declined. If he got another one of those extended warranty scam calls again, he might make a threat about them over his radio show. It would certainly get him trending on Twitter for the third time this month. Of course there was little that could out publicize All Might's heroic efforts or Endeavor's misdeeds. He couldn't image the cost of their PR agents.
No, he recognized this number, forcing him to answer and be polite despite being woken before his alarm screamed through the afternoon air.
"Hello? Yamada speaking."
"Mister Yamada? This is Nakamura Riku from Sakurai Primary. We need to talk about your son." Never words any parent wanted to hear at barely ten in the morning.
Why he chose this school, he would never know. Was it suggested by the Hero Commission for their discretion concerning the relation between heroes and their children? Yes. Having children in his life of work was certainly an added danger in his kid's life. Had he heard from Wash about their safety practices due to the increased number of villains in this area as of late? Yes. Did it come highly recommended by his old friend Kayama whom he still spoke to on the occasion? Also yes. So perhaps there were multiple reasons why he picked this school over several other options, but it hadn't been the only contender.
It had been Midnight to finalize his decision. She raved about their quality of education after her step-children had attended for a year. Ever since the woman married the Todoroki divorcee, her only conversations consisted of her darling wife or their lovely children. That was fine. Honestly, the only subject matter Hizashi knew anymore outside of his job was his son.
His brilliant and extraordinary son. The kid was so bright and intelligent, often speaking a kilometer a second on subjects Hizashi himself barely understood. The way his mind worked was absolutely fascinating! He could analyze a situation and figure out a solution in seconds. He could come up with answers many adults couldn't see.
Izuku was also a quiet child. Quiet and well behaved. He often sat out of the way, always watching others as he jotted down all of his observations. The boy loathed violence, preferring to his away and ball himself up instead of hurting another. He had yet to see the child defend himself at parks or in the grocery store that one time.
So why did he get called to the headmaster's office over his son punching another student?
As he sat in the wooden chair, leaning his head against the wall and trying not to fall asleep for the third time that day, his personal ball of sunshine came from around a corner while being escorted by his homeroom teacher and accompanied by another student.
His school uniform was disheveled and torn in places. There was a little blood splattered across the collar; the color of the spray meant that it was fairly recent as it was still wet. Izuku sported a bruised eye, swollen cheeks, and a busted lip. The way he held one arm to his chest suggested a sprain or worse to the wrist. They would definitely be visiting the doctor over the limp he was trying to hide.
The kid walking next to him had purple hair that stood on end like he was electrocuted. He looked even more beat up than his son and considering Hizashi could make out claw marks on his son's neck now that his kid was sitting in the chair across the hallway from him, that was saying something. His eyes had the second biggest bags he had ever seen, and he looked seconds from falling asleep.
So much of this kid reminded him of the two best friends he had back in high school that he didn't really speak to anymore. One was buried under the rubble of a building and the other… he wasn't sure.
(He could remember the taste of cheap beer on his tongue and strawberry yogurt from the other's. Hands roamed places that clothes covered. They moved too fast and not fast enough. There was a laugh in his ear as he blew raspberries on the other's neck. Someone begged for just a little more. Why did they stop? Why was he leaving? Why were they yelling? Where did he go?)
Izuku sat next to the purple haired child, the hand he didn't keep pulled to his chest clutching the hand of the other kid. Any second now, he'd be busting out in tears. His son was always terrified of failing him, of disappointing him, of upsetting him. He never believed he wouldn't be sent back to his previous foster home despite all of Hizashi's assurances.
The door next to his chair finally opened, and he could hear the voice of the principal as he spoke to other parents. Well, he assumed it was parents. Probably the parents of this other kid here.
"I understand completely sir. You'll have no worries. The situation will be handled." He hated people like this. People that cared more about kissing the ass of a superior that didn't care rather than making sure he really did his job. Hizashi knew a lot of young hopefuls like that. They rarely made it past the first couple years of sidekick training to be full fledged heroes. So many of them didn't have the heart it took to do what was right in the face of fear.
When this man's eyes landed on Hizashi as the young couple left, a chill ran up his spine. Why did he have to be here? He would much rather be taking his son to infirmary rather than sitting here to be lectured on whatever misdeed this man believed his son had done.
A too wide smile crossed the man's face before clapping a hand onto Hizashi's shoulder. "Mister Yamada I presume? Were just waiting on that one's father to get here, but we can go ahead and start in my office. Why don't you come on in?" His voice was oil atop a pool of water that you need to trudge through.
Why was he here again? His son. Why did his head hurt so much? He shook it to try to get rid of the fog that filled his brain, but it didn't help much. He needed to focus on what the principal was saying instead of the headache that was building behind his eyes. God, why did this guy need to put his desk in front of windows that had the sunshine glaring through them at his guests? It just made the forming migraine even worse.
"Oh, Mister Aizawa, good of you to come in. I understand you're a busy man. I was just about to explain to Mister Yamada here what the two of your sons decided to do to the nephews of Chairman Kobayashi of the Board of Education for Mustafa."
Hizashi felt his blood all but freeze in his veins. What did Izuku do? He's never been violent before this instance. He rarely spoke an ill word in regards to others. Even when those people were downright horrendous to him.
Wait. Aizawa? The chance was low, but there was no harm in checking. He looked over at the new addition to the office and saw the face of someone he hadn't spoken to in a few years.
It was through no fault of either of theirs, at least he didn't think either of them were to blame. Sometimes even the best of friends drift apart. It didn't help that the two of them were just so busy with starting out their lives as heroes. And the anniversary of Oboro… sometimes things just didn't work out like you envisioned. Like you hoped.
(He could remember the way Shouta's lip balm smelt of strawberries as he stole kisses whenever the teacher left the room because of the newest incident one of the other classes caused. He could remember the taste of chamomile oh his tongue when he helped his boyfriend sneak out of his parents' house for the second time that week. He couldn't remember their last phone call after a particularly rough patrol that had them dreaming of the faces of the dead. When did they stop being one another's source of comfort? When did they stop seeking the other out when they couldn't handle the horrors of their job? When did they stop talking?)
It had been years since they last saw each other in person, but Shouta was as cute now as he was back then. Actually that was a lie. He had gone from being a teenager with string bean arms and legs while he could barely wield his capture weapon to a man with a scruffy beard, thick biceps, and longer hair. Was that a scar on his jaw? Since when did he pull his hair back into a bun?
How much incense did this guy have going? He counted at least three on that one wall of bookshelves. It certainly contributed to the pain that was worsening in his head, making it even more difficult to concentrate on the conversation.
"When we found young Midoriya and Shinsou, Kobayashi's three nephews were crying in the nurse's office. I've been told she sent them on to get an x-ray of his youngest's ribs. She doesn't think they're broken, but it doesn't hurt to get it checked." This was his son's new friend? The one he couldn't stop rambling on and on about for us last week?
His old friend had been looking around the room previously, not having taken his seat in the chair next to him. Now he stood to the side, idly looking over a small glass trinket on a shelf.
"Did you know that Chairman Kobayashi has two siblings? One works as a detective for the police force, right alongside Tsukauchi. She's recently married, but she has no children. The other sister is a lawyer, and she's absolutely ruthless. I've had the pleasure of seeing her in action a few times, tearing apart the media over their inaccuracies. Those most definitely are not her children though since her only child is just a few months of age."
Hizashi watched in awe as Aizawa began ripping into this man. From his manipulation tactics, to his blatant disregard for the well being of his students, this man was a poor excuse for a principal. Aizawa was sure to let him know exactly what he thought of the man. However, it was when his hair surged up and his eyes glowed a gold, reminiscent of a luminescent honey.
The DJ had always looked up to Shouta. The Erasure Hero had such a strong sense of right and wrong, a firm conviction in his distaste for injustice, and a burning hatred for the corrupt. Aizawa never tolerated people like the one before them, ones that used the power they could wield as a way to force others to act in their disinterest, ones that find no issue with causing harm to those that were often hurt by the society in which they lived.
(Falling walls. A hand stuck out from the rubble of a collapsed building. The screams of a child. Cries muffled by the arms of another. He hadn't been able to do anything to stop the building from coming down. He hadn't been of use to anyone that day. He could still remember when a mother asked him why he hadn't saved her son. He was a hero. He should have been able to do something. Turns out he couldn't save anyone.)
It was odd that the moment Aizawa activated his quirk, his headache immediately disappeared. The haze in his mind vanished. Maybe it wasn't that odd considering Nakamura's quirk was recorded as 'Compliance'. Highly regulated, more so than Midnight's 'Somnambulist' quirk. She couldn't force another do to her bidding against their will. She couldn't subjugate people into… compliance. He couldn't think of a single reason as to why any official would authorize the use of something as dangerous as an ability that could rewrite the desires of multiple people at once in a way that would be unnoticed by the majority of the victims.
Not a single reason why anyone would want that used at a school.