Chapter Text
Aizawa Shouta is a smart man.
He doesn’t say that out of arrogance or ego. It’s just a fact- his brain is one of his primary tools, and an inaccurate assessment of it out of some notion of “humbleness” would be a bad idea. He needed to know what his skills were to be able to properly utilize them.
Aizawa Shouta is smart, so when Midoriya Izuku receives an 85 on the fifth assignment that week, he decides to pay a little closer attention.
As his homeroom teacher, Shouta technically has access to all of Midoriya’s grades. He usually doesn’t bother checking each individual assignment grade for every class, because it’s almost always just a waste of time, but he figures that this warrants a more thorough check.
It only takes 10 minutes of glancing over his previous assignments that year before Shouta wants to bash his head into the table, because why didn’t he notice? It was a consistent streak of 85s- or as close as he could get for that assignment. It wasn’t even that each class averaged out to 85- it was just all 85, no 84s or 86s in the mix. There was no doubt that this was intentional, a streak like that couldn’t just be coincidence- so it just left the question of why? Why would Midoriya–an undeniably smart student, he always did well on recon and intelligence based battle simulations–intentionally kneecap his own grade? What was the motive?
He supposed it could be a defense tactic of sorts- ensure that the other students (and villains, if they managed to UA records- it certainly wasn't unheard of.) would underestimate him, improving his odds in a fight. Except that it's such a trivial thing to worry about, and with his quirk it was unlikely that anyone would underestimate him, test scores be damned.
By all accounts, it just didn't make sense.
After a few minutes spent just glaring at the grades noted down on his computer screen, Shouta pushed out of his chair and stalked out of the teachers lounge, ignoring the curious glances it earned him from his fellow teachers.
He had a rat to visit.
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Nedzu blinked in mock surprise as Aizawa slammed his door open, whiskers twitching curiously. He'd seen the teacher approaching through the school cameras, of course, and both his snappishness here and in the teachers lounge a few minutes prior was pretty telling of how the man was feeling. But Aizawa, the clever bastard, had always been an expert in sitting in the blind spots of Nedzu's cameras whenever he could manage it, so Nedzu couldn't actually be sure what Aizawa was so upset about this time around.
Aizawa had always been good at surprising him, he supposed.
"Aizawa! Fancy seeing you here. What do you need?" He asked cheerily, carefully pouring two cups of tea. Aizawa didn't really care much for tea, and of course Nedzu knew this, but it usually prompted Aizawa to sit down to talk in some semblance of politeness unless he considered it an urgent matter. This time, though, Aizawa didn't even glance at the teacup as he spoke to Nedzu.
"I need Midoriya's middle school transcript. And elementary, actually, if you can access them." He said stiffly, crossing his arms.
"Oh?" Nedzu prompted lightly, his ears perking, before turning to his computer to find the requested files. "And what brought this on, if I may ask? You aren't usually one to check your student's records." That much was true- Aizawa was actually fairly against it, all things considered. He preferred to take an unbiased approach to teaching, rather than letting his students' pasts dictate his opinions of them.
Aizawa hesitated, clearly debating if it was something he wanted to share with the principle- as curious as Nedzu was, he didn't really take offense to Aizawa's hesitation. He knew that he tended to be a bit... extreme, at times.
Fortunately, Aizawa seemed to decide that the pros would outweigh the cons, in this case.
"Have you ever looked at Midoriya Izuku's grades?" He asked gruffly, a hint of... confusion, perhaps, or something similar, in his voice. Nedzu tilted his head, turning away from his computer to give the teacher his full attention.
"I can't say I have! Why do you ask?" Nedzu chirped, whiskers twitching.
"He only gets 85s." Nedzu's smile faltered, slightly, assuming he misheard.
"Well, that's certainly a strangely even average, but it's not unheard of-" He began slowly, only for Aizawa to cut him off.
"Not averaged. It's all just 85s. In every class, for every assignment, since the beginning of the year, Midoriya has gotten an 85- barring ones that can't add up to 85, in which case, he gets as close to 85 percent as possible. Rounded down."
"...Ah. That is... strange, I'll give you that." Nedzu responded slowly, turning back to his computer. "I've emailed you copies of the transcripts. I'll go over them myself tonight, should time permit. This certainly is quite the mystery we have on our hands! Or paws, in my case!" He chirped, his usual cheer back in his voice. What an interesting puzzle! Nevermind the fact that Nedzu was fairly sure he had more pieces to it then Aizawa.
Aizawa hesitated, seeming like he wanted to say something more, before shaking his head and leaving the room.
What an interesting puzzle, indeed.
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The talk with Nedzu had just made him more antsy, really. The rat clearly knew more than he was letting on- Shouta wasn’t stupid enough to miss that. He wanted to get a look at the transcripts, to figure out this god forsaken puzzle, but unfortunately, he did still have a class to teach.
They weren't doing much that day, just basic quirk training, but even so Shouta couldn't help but keep a closer eye on Midoriya throughout class. He certainly never held back during training- he clearly had good ideas for his quirk and its applications, for all that it was a straightforward quirk. He didn't miss how his friends went to him for suggestions, either. Midoriya was smart- he was clever and analytical and clearly had a clear grasp on how to make the most of any quirk, not just his own- which, really, only raised more questions.
Because honestly, why the hell did Midoriya keep breaking his arms if he was so smart about quirks? Why did it take him going to UA to figure out how to properly use his own quirk?
The more attention Shouta paid to Midoriya, the less sense any of it made. He had a strong quirk, strong enough to brute force his way through most fights- and yet, he clearly valued strategy more than raw power. Not to mention, he was so... nervous, for such a powerful person. Shouta had enough experience with powerful quirks to last a lifetime- they tended to be the ones that ended up in heroics classes, and they tended to be confident. Arrogant, usually, but if not that, then they at least carried themself with a certain air of self assuredness, born out of constant praise that came with having the abilities they did. It was most obvious in students like Bakugou, who were so blatantly inexperienced with the word 'no', who had a god complex that it'd take years to break them out of. But it was noticeable in even the more mild-mannered students- Ashido never worried that she wouldn't be enough, Tokoyami never stressed about people's opinions of him- with a few rare exceptions, none of them did. They grew up knowing that they would be heroes, and that affected a kid--for better or for worse.
But Midoriya wasn't like that.
Midoriya was strong, with a quirk so clearly built for heroics that it almost seemed too on-the-nose. He was quick and clever and determined, and it seemed so obvious that he was meant to be a hero. But he was also... kind of a mess. He had a bit of a stutter (clearly born more out of anxiety than anything else) and he didn't know how to take a compliment. He carried himself with a constant sort of tension, and it always worsened around teachers- less so after a few weeks at school, but still enough to be noticeable.
It didn't add up.
"Midoriya." Shouta called flatly as the bell rang to signify the end of class.
"Ah- yes, Aizawa-sensei?" Midoriya asked, looking not unlike a deer in headlights.
"You did good today. Keep it up." Shouta finished simply, cocking his head. Midoriya blinked.
"O-oh! It really wasn't anything special! But, uhm, thank you?" The kid's shoulder's were hunched, obviously vaguely uncomfortable, before he hurried after his friends and back to the dorms.
It really, really didn't add up.
(Shouta pretended not to notice Bakugou's incredulous snort when Shouta complimented Midoriya. That was a problem for another day.)
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Midoriya's middle school grades didn't answer any questions. If anything, they just raised more. As soon as Shouta had gotten home, he'd pulled up the email from Nedzu to look over Midoriya's prior report cards, and he couldn't help but let out a disbelieving scoff at the sight.
Well. At least it wasn't all 85s.
85 was the highest grade any of the assignments got, and it was few and far in between- the amount of 0s and 10s and 20s was... astounding, all things considered. It fluctuated from year to year (always based on year, really.) how bad it was, but overall, Midoriya's pre-high school grades were nothing short of abysmal. Which, really, just raised more questions- Midoriya is a smart kid- there's an innate sort of cleverness and eagerness to learn, the idea of him getting such bad grades was... nonsensical, to put it lightly.
What the hell was Midoriya doing?
And why was Shouta, his high school teacher, the first one to notice?
"Sho? Everything alright there?" Shouta must've been glaring pretty intently at the screen because Hizashi evidently noticed, a thin layer of worry lining his voice.
“Fine.” Shouta responded stiffly, not looking up. He didn’t need to see his face to know Hizashi was frowning.
“Right. And I assume you were ‘fine’ when you stormed out of the teacher’s lounge earlier today, too?” Hizashi asked, tossing Shouta a jelly pouch which he caught with ease.
“Mhm. Totally fine then, too.” Shouta huffed, finally looking up to meet Hizashi’s eyes. He didn’t look impressed.
“Right.” Hizashi agreed lightly.
They were both silent for a long moment, locked in a staring contest. They were both stubborn people when they wanted to be, and Shouta knew from experience that their battles of wills could go on for days. They didn't, usually, but they could.
Finally, Hizashi spoke again. “Sho, there’s obviously somethin’ eatin’ at ya there. Let me help out, yeah?”
Damn his puppy-dog eyes.
"It's- have you ever looked at Midoriya's grades, 'Zashi?" Shouta asked, finally cracking, before turning back to the computer as he pulled up the elementary school transcripts. It was all about the same, until- there. The first few weeks of third grade went well, all 100s, for the most part. A handful of things lower, but nothing under 90. About a fourth of the way through the year and right after report cards would've been sent out, that stopped, giving way to the first 85. The first of a deeply baffling streak. Nothing other than 85 (with a handful of 0s, somehow,) for the rest of the year, until it went to fourth grade and, in turn, back to unbelievably shitty grades.
"No? I mean, not other than the stuff I've graded for my class. He usually gets decent enough grades, why?"
"Because it's- look at it!" Shouta snapped, the frustration bleeding into his voice as he opened Midoriya's high school grades again and turned his laptop to show Hizashi. He didn't mean to snap at his husband, not really, but none of this made sense.
Hizashi skimmed the page, his frown getting deeper with each line. "That's- wow, that's, what the fuck?" He asked, an upwards tilt to his voice on the last word. "Have you talked to Nedzu about that yet? That's... really strange."
"I went to him about it during lunch," Shouta responded, taking his computer back and switching back over to the elementary school grades. There had to be something he was missing, here. Some clue, some puzzle piece that had somehow escaped his grasp. "It gets even worse in middle school and elementary school- Midoriya's grades before UA were abysmal. He's a smart kid, there's no reason why it should be this bad. It never goes over 85- that started in third grade, it looks like. The first few weeks of third grade he was doing well- all 90s and 100s, but then it went back to a hellish streak of 85s, and then back to shit in fourth grade and beyond."
"It's gotta be some sort of teacher bias, right? There's no way Midoriya, of all kids, did so poorly. Especially if there was one year where he didn't." Hizashi responded, moving behind the couch and propping up his arms on the back of it as he studied the screen.
"I mean, sure, that would be the most logical reason, but why? Midoriya is a good kid, if a bit jumpy, it doesn't make sense that every single teacher except for one would have such a vehement hatred of him." Shouta leaned back and crossed his arms, glaring at the computer screen as though he could scare it into fixing whatever the hell was going on there.
"Have you looked at behavioral transcripts yet? Not that the little listener could've done much to warrant that, but it's worth a look, at least."
"Not yet. I don't see why it'd make much of a difference, though- It wouldn't make sense if Midoriya was a hell child for his whole life up until high school. That's not how kids work." Shouta grumbled, though he went to pull up the behavioral transcripts anyways.
Clearly, he spoke too soon.
Shouta had found, in his years of teaching, that the "permanent record" teachers always love to hang over students' heads is rarely as bad as it sounds. And sure, that's at least partly because of where Shouta teaches- his students are almost always hero hopefuls with good quirks, and that meant that no matter what shit they pulled, they would get away with barely a slap on the wrist. But even so, permanent records just weren't meant to hold much. Only major disciplinary action- which essentially just meant suspensions and expulsions. Minor things just went in the school's files, which Shouta couldn't really access without jumping through quite a few hoops to do so.
But. Wow. Midoriya's permanent record sure was... something.
There was at least one suspension each year, generally credited to starting fights or cheating on major tests, though there was usually two or three. But that wasn't what made Shouta freeze up, what made Hizashi mutter a choice handful of curses under his breath from his spot over Shouta's shoulder.
Because in fourth grade, roughly halfway through the year, Midoriya was expelled.
And, sure, Shouta had noticed that Midoriya changed elementary schools at one point. Whatever. He'd assumed the kid had just moved. It happened. He hadn't expected Midoriya to have gotten expelled in the fourth grade. If Shouta were to believe what was written here, it was for starting a fight and, somehow, hospitalizing another kid. It didn't make sense- Midoriya was a good kid. He was friendly, and hardworking, and so blindingly optimistic. This transcript talked about a violent kid who'd beat up a second grader so badly that they went to the hospital with three broken ribs, who'd slack off in class and cheat on tests and provoke other students for no reason and that didn't match up. The teacher's notes on each incident were nothing less than disdainful- explaining that Midoriya was such a troublemaker, that nobody in class liked him, that something like this was bound to happen one day or another.
There was something so inherently wrong about all of it, and Shouta didn’t know what he was missing, and god, if nothing else came of this he at least needed to get Midoriya some damn therapy. Even if he didn’t know what for just yet.
After a while of sitting in stunned silence staring at the screen, Hizashi finally spoke.
“…we aren’t going to get anything more out of this tonight. Our best chance is talking to Nedzu about it tomorrow- stressing about it right now won’t do us any good. Let’s get some dinner, alright Sho?” Hizashi suggested, glancing at Shouta in poorly concealed concern. Shouta wanted nothing more than to shove him off, to keep picking at the pieces and tearing into the transcripts until it made sense, but he knew Hizashi was right. He wouldn’t make any progress like this. With a heavy sigh, he closed his laptop and leaned his head back onto the back of the couch, finding himself staring up into his husband’s eyes.
“…yeah, alright. We’re figuring this out tomorrow, though.”
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Shouta found himself stalking into Nedzu’s office at ass o’clock in the morning, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
Nedzu knew more then he was letting on, and while Shouta could never claim to be a match for the rat in a battle of wits, he could certainly go toe-to-toe with him in a battle of wills.
“Aizawa! You’re here early. Care for some tea?” The animal chirped, eyes bright as he poured two cups. Shouta eyed the offered beverage disdainfully- Nedzu knew he didn’t like it, the little shit.
Shouta shifted his glare to the rat, pulling the printed transcripts out of his pocket and slamming them onto the desk.
Because fuck if he didn’t get to be a little dramatic about this.
Nedzu’s smile dropped away as he looked at the papers. Nedzu knew all of this already, of course, nothing that big could’ve escaped his notice, but maybe he was hoping it would escape Shouta’s. Pity.
“Ah. About that, Aizawa. I do hate to say this, but I think it would be best if you let me handle this particular situation! I assure you, I have it all under control.” Nedzu informed him, tail tip flicking.
Shouta wanted to strangle him, just a little bit.
He would never claim to understand Nedzu. It goes beyond his intelligence- at the end of the day, he isn’t human. He exists in his own world, with his thoughts and feelings and views being all but incomprehensible to anyone other than himself. He’s not a creature meant to be understood. He’s still good, if not quite compassionate, and Shouta does trust him in some meaningful sense- Shouta trusts that, at the end of the day, Nedzu does want to better society and heroics, and Shouta trusts that Nedzu would do anything possible to keep UA safe.
But Shouta does not trust him with this. When it isn’t the fate of UA, or Japan, or the world- when it’s just one, individual child, who’s clearly been hurt so badly in the past and needs genuine help, Shouta does not trust Nedzu. Not for a second.
“No.”
“No?” Nedzu perked his ears, sounding more curious than anything. Shouta really, really wanted to strangle him.
“No.” Shouta repeated flatly, propping himself up on the table with his hands as he leaned forward to glare at the principal.
Nedzu was quiet for a long moment, his shiny black eyes studying Shouta curiously. Shouta didn’t know what he was looking for, but he must’ve found it, because finally he spoke. “Well, unfortunately I cannot offer you any more information about this. I am under contract, you see. I also can’t authorize you to go looking for yourself- it would most certainly be a breach of said contract, after all, for me to suggest you go and investigate Aldera Middle School. I’m sure there’d be no reason to, anyhow- there’s obviously been no reports of it violating discrimination or health and safety laws.
Shouta paused, tilting his head back slightly as he looked at the rat. Nedzu’s pleasant smile hadn’t shifted, but there was a new glint in his dark eyes. Shouta was pretty sure the emotion there was bloodlust.
————————————
Shouta checked out of campus for “urgent hero work” later that day.
The talk with Nedzu hadn’t exactly gone as planned, but it was still informative.
He wasn’t sure what Nedzu was up to, or why he bothered with the thin veneer of legality and contract loyalty, but he was obviously throwing Shouta a bone and Shouta wasn't about to just ignore it. So after sending off a quick text to Hizashi to keep him updated, Shouta got in his car and started on the commute to a certain middle school.
He was going to figure this out if it was the last thing he did, goddamnit.