Work Text:
Working for U.A, Aizawa wasn't unfamiliar with taking care of children, to an extent. Shaping new young heroes was his job and, despite his methods, he was good at it. But years of strictly teaching during actual school hours does little to prepare a person for caring for twenty kids twenty-four seven.
Staring at the sad excuse of dinner, which consisted of watered down tomato soup and bread that was a bit too hard to be healthy, the kids weren't prepared to care for twenty other people either.
Groceries, they needed groceries. Lunch Rush didn't work at the school on holidays, especially not on winter ones when their services are especially needed elsewhere. That left a bunch of fifteen year olds to figure out meals for themselves.
Aizawa had to give them props, they managed to feed everyone, even himself and Hizashi had a serving. It was almost sweet.
"Alright," Aizawa stood from his place at the table, empty bowl in hand, "I'm going shopping, we need food and probably other essentials. Pick who's coming with me and make a list, Mic and I will start the car."
He dropped his bowl in the kitchen sink and took out his phone. Mic would have a truck waiting for him and the kids. Nedzu had to be informed of their outing, or maybe he already knew, you could never tell with him.
The common room was empty save for four of his students. Tokoyami, Mina, Yaoyorozu, and Midoriya stood near the front door, phones passed around in the middle of their huddle. They looked up at the sound of his footsteps, opening their little cluster for him to join in.
“We made a list!” Mina shoved her phone in Aizawa’s face. “It’s actually a group chat, but we wrote a list in it,” Aizawa leaned back, looking at the phone long enough to skim the list before tapping around to add himself to the small server.
“Good job,” Aizawa herded the tiny group out the door. He wasn't really looking forward to the shopping trip, his stomach already twisting in familiar and unwanted knots.
***
Aizawa eyed the rearview mirror for what was likely one time too many. The drive to the mega-mart wasn't long and it was highly improbable he'd lose a student in the confines of the van, but he couldn't deny that seeing his kids brought him a bit of ease.
He checked on them again, watching them tap away at their phones, probably talking to their friends at home. Midoriya caught his eye the most, his problem child swiping through his phone only to shut it off for a few seconds before starting the process again. He looked like a toddler forced to sit still for too long.
"We're here," Mic's hand on his own broke Aizawa from his staring. He'd watched Midoriya's fidgeting get worse and worse for the whole ride. It was a bit too late to ask about it.
The store was nearly packed despite the later hour. Winter holidays always brought a crowd. Aizawa hated it. The world got louder once he stepped out the van, a different loud than he was comfortably used to. He counted his kids again, satisfied that the number hadn’t changed from the last time he checked, and cleared his throat.
“Alright,” Aizawa took out his phone, “we’re each gonna grab a few items and meet up at the checkout lanes. No grabbing extra stuff unless you ask for it first, and text the group chat if you need help. Mic and I will come to you if you need us, got it?” He looked each student in the eye, the four of them nodding like he’d given them battle plans. It almost made him smile. There was something pleasant about his kids being ready and willing to take him seriously at any moment.
“Let’s go,” Aizawa sent four short lists for each of his kids before urging them to enter the store. He stayed behind the group, Mic’s hand locked with his own. His eyes focused on Midoriya again. The jitteriness from the ride over seemed to be mostly gone, but it was replaced with overly tense shoulders; they edged closer and closer to his ears the further he walked into the crowded store. It made Aizawa’s stomach churn.
It didn’t take long for Aizawa to lose sight of Midoriya, a slightly twitching head being the last Aizawa saw of him. The store really was too full for comfort. Mic’s hand squeezing his fingers was the only thing keeping Aizawa from running off to find his students.
Aizawa was used to near constant paranoia for his own safety, this however was different.
“What’s got you so wound up, Shou?” Mic spoke just loud enough for Aizawa to hear, more subdued than usual. “You’re usually not this buzzy when we go out,” he moved them as out of the way as he could.
“I’m not exactly happy to have my students in a crowded supermarket at sunset,” Aizawa flexed his hand in Mic’s. “Can you handle watching the girls for me? I need to keep an eye on Midoriya, Tokoyami is fairly self sufficient.”
“Something wrong with the little listener?”
“I think I made a mistake letting him come here.”
Aizawa let go of Mic, his own small list of groceries waiting for him. He walked half on autopilot, one hand clutching his phone as he searched for what he needed. Every now and then he thought he caught a glimpse of green curls, nearly snapped his neck trying to see if it was really Midoriya.
The buzzing of his phone snapped him to full attention. Shouta unclenched his jaw at the notification, rubbing away the lingering ache.
“Tokoyami: sensei, could you help me reach something? Im in aisle seven”
Aizawa took a deep breath and sent a quick reply. He held a small bit of hope that his concern was unwarranted. No one was in danger, no one was bleeding out and dying, his student just needed help reaching something.
The bright fluorescent lights were something he often overlooked, though now he could see what a problem they posed for his short student; Dark Shadow probably didn’t fancy being exposed under them. Aizawa walked to his student, the aisle thankfully less busy than the others.
Tokoyami stood out of the way, his full basket sat between his feet. He’d gotten everything off his list, leaving the one item he couldn’t reach for last. Smart boy.
“Thank you, sensei,” Tokoyami carefully placed the stack of wet wipes on top of his pile. “Shad wouldn’t come out, he doesn’t like the lights or the crowd.”
“I figured the lights might be a problem, it’s fine,” Aizawa eyed his student, pleased to find nothing. No ruffled feathers, no new scratches or marks, just the familiar fading bruises of a recent sparring session. “If you’re finished you can wait at the checkout for the rest of us.”
“Could you check on Midoriya, sensei?” Tokoyami carefully picked up his basket, a small shadowy hand creeping out to support the bottom. “He kept making little whining noises last time I saw him, like Kouda’s rabbit used to. He said he was fine but...” his feathers puffed up a bit, red eyes unconsciously searching for his friend.
Aizawa stood straighter, the churning in his stomach coming back with a vengeance. It was clear Tokoyami didn’t believe MIdoriya was fine, at least not completely. But he wouldn’t leave his friend in immediate danger. Not if he knew there was any.
Briefly nodding, or he thought he did, Aizawa walked out the aisle. He took out his phone and opened the groupchat. Midoriya’s mini list would have kept him in one area of the market, not too far from Tokoyami. Checking where every item was would be tedious, but it was his only option at the moment.
Every turn seemed as crowded as the last. It was frustrating to say the least, Aizawa’s polite “excuse me”’s turning into halfhearted grunts as he walked from aisle to aisle. Part of him was tempted to check their meet up area. For all he knew Midoriya could be safely waiting for the others to arrive.
Tempting as it was, Aizawa was never that lucky. Neither was Midoriya.
“Excuse me!” Aizawa looked away from the aisle number, the call was too deliberate to not be for him.
It was a woman in a uniform, a tag on her shirt listed the store name and her own. She stopped to catch her breath, blue flushed her cheeks instead of the expected red. Midoriya would be curious about that.
“Are you looking for someone? Like a kid?”
“Yes.” Aizawa stepped towards her, following instantly when she started jogging away.
“Green hair and eyes right?” Shouta nodded. “I managed to get him in the employee area before he started lighting up. It looks like a panic attack, I left Natori to watch him while I found you,” the woman, Yoshioka, explained as they got closer to the back of the store.
Under the door Aizawa could see the faint glowing light of Midoriya’s quirk. He ran the rest of the way, slowing to open the door carefully. A man, more of a cat really, sat crouched in front of his student. A deep rumbling noise resonated through the tiny space; it was purring.
“I found his dad, Natori. Let him through,” the cat man slunk out of the way, keeping low to the ground and a good distance away from Midoriya.
Aizawa’s student looked worse for wear, wet eyes blown wide with barely any green visible. One hand gripped tightly at his hair, the other squeezed at his throat. His short and fast rocking matched his short and fast breathing, strained keening escaping bitten red lips. Midoriya briefly looked in Aizawa’s direction, his gaze flitting away quickly to every corner of the room.
Aizawa took the same position Natori held, inching closer until his kids’ eyes stayed on him. He noted that the purring never stopped, only faded slightly after the two workers walked off. It was a little sweet, he could appreciate the attempt to help.
“Hey, problem child,” Aizawa shifted to sitting with his legs crossed, still hunched over to keep from towering over his kid so much. “You’re safe now, sensei is here,” he tapped at the ground near Midoriya’s feet, he was unsure if touch was a good idea yet.
Midoriya whined, squeezing tighter at his throat. He shook his head, like he disagreed with Aizawa’s words.
“I am here, kid,” Aizawa spoke softly, a tone that rarely saw the light of day. “Can I prove it to you?” He reached out his hand slowly, inching closer to the one clasped at Midoriya’s throat.
Aizawa pried the hand away from the kid's neck, a choked off cry being his only resistance.
“See,” he held the scarred hand gently, “I’m right here, you’re safe”
Midoriya stared at the large hand holding his own, tears he somehow kept in finally spilling over. He breathed out a heavy sob, shifting over to crawl closer to Aizawa. Arms wrapped around his small frame, pulling him into Aizawa’s hold. He buried his cries into Aizawa’s jacket, clinging tightly to the soft fabric. He barely noticed when Aizawa started rocking, or when he pulled out his phone, or when the purring grew louder. He only noticed the tenseness slightly leaving him once something covered the back of his neck.
***
Midoriya cracked his eyes open, a brief spike of panic shot through him before leaving him loose and tired. There were arms around him, holding him in place. Dragging his head up drained him more than he thought it ever would. It left him too drained to be embarrassed when he came face to face with Aizawa. He was sitting in his teacher’s lap, both occupying the backseat of the empty van. The tall streetlights were all he could see of outside, they’d never left the store parking lot.
“You know,” Aizawa’s low voice rumbled under Midoriya, who snuggled closer before he could think not to. Aizawa held him tighter, readjusting the small blanket covering the back of his neck. “I like watery tomato soup better than crowds.”
Midoriya giggled under his breath. He liked Aizawa more than even watery tomato soup.