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Hanta isn’t the kind of guy to go flaunting the things most important to him.
Well, admittedly, Hanta isn’t the type to flaunt anything really.
He’s told that his laid-back nature is one of the reasons why his partner was originally drawn to him.
So a week after receiving a bouquet of roses from said partner, he heads out to the front of the 2-A dorms armed with a pair of gardening clippers, cling wrap, a screwdriver, paper towels, cinnamon, two potatoes, and his wilting flowers.
It’s a little after eight in the morning, far before most of his friends rise on a weekend, and more importantly, before his partner drags themself out of bed when they don’t have plans.
Hanga sets his Spanish playlist on loop, humming along to the opening chords of Camila Cabello's 'Bam Bam' while he sets his supplies on the dewy morning grass and inspects his vase of flowers.
The stems that don’t make it past the teen’s careful inspection get their water-damaged areas snipped, and the flowers placed inside a ziplock bag. He’ll hang them out to dry when he gets back to his dorm.
He’s just finding his rhythm, singing quietly to the chorus of the song, when a gruff voice speaks from behind him, startling the life out of the teen. “Do I want to ask what you’re up to?”
Por Dios, Hanta forgot how quiet their teacher could be.
He places his clippers down carefully. He’s not risking his fingers any more than he has to during hero class, thank you very much.
“That depends. Do you wanna know?” Hanta questions, turning expectantly to his teacher.
The man seems to regard his setup for a moment, raising an eyebrow at the seemingly random assortment of supplies in the grass in front of him, before his gaze returns to Hanta and he sighs, taking a seat next to the teen and sipping his coffee.
“Alright, fine. What is all of this?”
Hanta turns back to his plants to hide his smile, picking up his clippers and snipping a 45-degree angle in the knoll of one he’d set aside for planting.
“I’m propagating a bouquet my partner bought for me a week ago. If you do it right, you can grow a full rose bush from just a few stems.”
Aizawa-sensei makes a curious noise in the back of his throat. “You seem confident that you can make it work. Have you done this before?”
Hanta shoots him a rueful smile, a little surprised that the man is prompting him. Most people find gardening to be boring or too feminine of a hobby for the likes of him. It’s nice to not be questioned about the legitimacy of his pastime for a change.
“Nah. I sometimes root clippings of plants in my room to give as gifts, and the process is similar, but I usually do those with water. This is a new method for me, but I really wanted to try it. Especially because the flowers were for our first anniversary, and they’re special to me.”
“Does it work with all flowers?” The man questions, raising an eyebrow as Hanta begins poking holes in his potatoes with a screwdriver.
“Not sure,” Hanta admits with a shrug, “I’ve only ever seen it done with roses. Though, trying it with different plants would be an interesting experiment.”
Aizawa sensei hums, standing. “Best of luck with them then.”
“Ah, wait- sensei!” Hanta calls out at the man’s retreating back, “Please don’t tell anyone in class? I want it to be a surprise for my partner.”
The man waves him off. “Your secret is safe with me, kid.”
Hanta smiles to himself, relaxing as ‘Limbo’ begins to play over his phone speaker. He’s not sure why his teacher took an interest in Hanta’s planting, but he’ll admit that it was nice to share with someone.
Even if that someone was his gruff and mysteriously tight-lipped teacher.
. . . .
It’s a week and a half before the topic is mentioned again, and Hanta’s almost forgotten all about their interaction when Aizawa-sensei speaks as the final bell rings.
“Sero, stay behind for a moment.”
There’s a decent amount of snickering, and ‘ooohhhh’s from his friends, but Hanta only chuckles nervously, trying to wrack his brain for anything he messed up recently, and coming up blank.
His partner shoots him a concerned look, but Hanta waves them off, and they reluctantly follow the stream of students filing out of the classroom.
Hanta’s left edging toward Aizawa-sensei’s desk nervously. The man doesn't speak right away, studying him, and Hanta swallows.
“How is the rose bush coming along?” Aizawa asks, seemingly out of the blue.
Hanta has to blink for a moment to process that non-sequitur, but he pulls out his phone regardless, swiping to the pictures he’s taken of the plant’s progress, and turning the screen toward his teacher.
“Good actually! My stems have started to sprout new leaves. I’ll probably be due to pot them soon… but uh, why do you ask?”
The man gives him a pointed look, “This conversation stays between us, understand?”
“I’m not one to gossip, Sensei.” Hanta reassures, tucking his phone back into his pocket. He really isn't the type to spread information, but he'll admit that this conversation is making him extremely curious.
“I know. That’s the only reason I’m telling you this.” Aizawa sighs, rubbing a hand down his face, and Hanta leans forward, hanging onto his every word. “My partner gifted me a bouquet of roses a few days ago.”
Hanta’s spine straightens, a grin spreading across his face as he picks up on where this is going. “And you want to turn it into a bush?”
Aizawa-sensei nods. “They’ll be out tonight, so I can claim that the bouquet was getting moldy and I threw it away when they come home.”
Ah, so a time constraint. Hanta can work with that.
“It should only take around 20 minutes depending on how many stems you want to use.”
Aizawa-sensei nods his understanding, so Hanta continues, “Where did you wanna meet?”
“Behind the teacher dorms. My partner gets back around 7pm. Did you have any prior engagements today?”
“Uh, I’ve got a study session that runs until 6, so how about 6:15?”
The underground hero nods, and Hanta grins. “Alright, I’ll bring everything we’ll need! See yah then!”
If he leaves the classroom with a skip in his step, Aizawa’s kind enough not to mention it.
. . . .
Hanta arrives at the teachers’ dorms, a backpack slung over his shoulder at exactly 6:15.
Aizawa-sensei is sitting on the steps, and he looks up as Hanta approaches. Silently, he stands, gesturing the teen to follow, and leads Hanta around the back. The man is also carrying a bag, but it looks far emptier than Hanta’s.
They settle in a patch of grass in the shade of the building, out of reach from prying eyes, and Aizawa pulls a slightly wilted bouquet from his bag.
Hanta smiles at the yellow buds, admiring their color, and reaches for his own backpack. He explains his supplies and their purpose as he places them on the ground in front of him.
“So the potatoes act as nutrients and a rooting system as they decay. I use cinnamon as a rooting hormone as it’s a good quick-start and will help prevent fungus and mold. Technically, you could propagate them with those two things alone, but I like to add paper towels wrapped in cling wrap around the base, because it creates a greenhouse sorta effect and keeps the area from drying out too fast.”
The hero nods, and Hanta finds himself relaxing. The underground hero would be an excellent mental-health counselor. The man is a very attentive listener.
“Some people will place a glass jar over them for that same effect, but anything I’ve tried that with has molded, so I stick with the paper-towels. How many stems did you want to grow?”
“Three, ideally.”
Hanta nods, “Alright, so we’ll start with four, so that if one doesn’t make it, you’ll have a backup. May I?” He asks, gesturing toward the stems.
Aizawa hands them over dutifully, watching as Hanta inspects them, pulling four out of the bundle and handing the rest back to Aizawa.
“These will probably work the best. They’ve got a decent knoll near the base, which is good for roots to grow out of, and their stems seem the least water-damaged. If you’ve got a use for dried petals, we could hang the rest of the flowers or put them somewhere hot for a bit.”
“That won’t be necessary.” The man assures, and Hanta nods his understanding.
“Alright, well you want to cut at a 45 degree angle right below this knoll, and chop off the flower a few inches down.” Hanta demonstrates, then hands the clippers and the rest of the stems to his teacher.
The man takes them, following his instructions carefully, adding his stems to Hanta’s on the grass.
“Great! I brought four potatoes, but they’re pretty long, so we should be fine only using two. Go ahead and make a hole on either end, a decent distance away from each other, but not so close to the sides that they’ll fall over as soon as it starts to decay. I’m gonna dip the stems in cinnamon.”
Aizawa takes the offered potatoes and screwdriver, drilling holes, and Hanta gets to wetting the stems with a water bottle and dipping them in his jar. With both tasks done, he quickly tears the paper towels into four equal strips.
“Okay, so now we’ve got to wrap them. Leave about an inch from the bottom because that’ll be in the potato.” He rips tape from his elbows, absentmindedly handing a few pieces over. “This will keep them in place. When you’ve got your stem wrapped, just shove it in the potato and repeat.”
Hanta watches Aizawa wrap the stem with practiced movements, and is reminded of the occasional bandage the underground hero comes into class with. He moves to wrap his own with deft fingers, and hopes the guy doesn’t do first-aid alone.
He’s not particularly close to his teacher, but the idea of the man patching himself up in the dark sends a little stab through his chest. Hanta shakes it off, reaching for his backpack again.
“The last step is cling wrap. Make sure to cover the part that's connected to the potato as that’s what needs the most moisture.” Hanta suggests, ripping himself a few pieces and handing the wrap over. It’s not until he’s finished that he realizes that Aizawa hasn’t even picked his potato up.
The man has four lopsided pieces of cling-wrap in his lap and is giving the roll a positivly murderous look.
Hanta laughs before he can stop himself, taking the box and ripping him well-portioned pieces. For a moment, Aizawa looks like he won’t accept them out of principle, but Hanta holds them out further, and he takes them reluctantly.
“Can never work that damn thing.” He grumbles, seemingly to himself, and Hanta bites his lip to keep from laughing again.
He takes pity on the guy though and refrains from commenting on the ordeal.
“Make sure you put these in a place that gets good sunlight and wet the paper towel every morning. You should start seeing leaf buds somewhere around day ten, and you can pot them with regular soil once the leaves are fully opened.”
Aizawa nods his assent, carefully placing his stems in his bag. “Thank you, Sero.”
“Oh, uh, yeah! No problem!” Hanta rubs the back of his neck, a little thrown off by the small, but genuine smile his teacher is sporting. “Let me know how it goes? If they start to wilt or have issues I might be able to recommend something you can try to help.”
“Sure, I’d better put these somewhere before my partner comes home.” The man comments, rising to his feet.
Hanta glances at his phone, noting that half an hour had passed without him even realising it.
“Oh yeah, get the towels wet when you get to a sink. You might want to put them in a bowl to keep it from ruining your windowsill.”
“Right. You’ve got an essay due tomorrow.” The man reminds him, moment ruined as he returns to his gruff voice.
But for the first time, Hanta can detect the hints of fondness under that rough exterior and he only grins.
Who knew Aizawa-sensei was so soft?
+ OMKAE +
A month later, Hanta’s stems have bloomed. He takes the pot with the prettiest flowers to his partner, and is delighted to see their face light up as he explains his process and shows them the progress photos.
He isn’t confident in their ability to keep the plant alive long-term, but he considers his project worth it for that smile.
And if Aizawa shows up with a handful of seed packets a few weeks later, and announces that class 2-A will be planting a garden, Hanta only smiles secretively and accepts his role as Project Leader with grace.