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Shouta never liked kids. He had never felt any romantic feelings for anyone and he definitely hadn’t slept with anybody. So it was safe to say he didn’t have any offspring of his own. It was a wonder why he decided to take a teaching job at UA in the first place, but Shouta believed that the knowledge he possessed was valuable when it came to being a pro hero and he’d already seen too many young heroes die because they didn’t know what he did. They weren't able to see their flaws and discover ways around their ineptitude, so when they graduated and became true heroes, they ran into a situation they couldn't handle and died.
So, yes, he was a teacher. And, yes, he still didn’t like kids.
Of course, if anyone he passed on the street were asked to guess what his job was, the most repeated answer would be “Professional Homeless Man” due to his long, unkempt hair, the sweatpants/sweatshirt he chose to wear, and the prominent bags under his eyes. In all honesty, Shouta liked the way he looked. Mostly because it deterred people from trying to talk to him. And if a mother and her child were walking toward him on the sidewalk, they almost always crossed to the other side of the street before he could reach them.
Shouta sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. It had been about two hours since he’d started his patrol. The first hour and a half he’d spent leaping from roof to roof, looking and listening for crimes in progress, as he did every night. Then he spent the same amount of time ‘wandering’ the streets for less obvious illegal activities. After all, if a villain had seen him up on the roofs or leaping through the air (which was rare, but did happen) they could hide their crimes before he even saw them.
Pocketing his phone once more, Shouta lifted his head and faced forward, but his dark eyes flickered from left to right, searching for even the slightest movement. And, as always, his ears were on high alert.
“Dad! Wait up!”
He would have heard the sound regardless. Even if he were dead asleep.
The fact that it was a young voice was but one of the reasons Shouta stopped and turned around. Another reason was that he recognized the voice. He heard it at school every day, usually in a soft tone as its owner muttered on about one thing or another. The word “Dad” coming from the person was also why Shouta had turned. Because he was very well aware that Midoriya’s father was in America.
Sure enough, when he turned, Shouta saw his student running along the sidewalk, hands gripping the straps of his yellow backpack until he caught up with his teacher, where he stopped and bent over to catch his breath. Shouta frowned slightly but said nothing. A moment later Midoriya looked up at him, his emerald eyes wide with fear and something else.
“I’m being followed,” he whispered, voice barely audible. The man felt his body tense up. The urge to look back where the teen had come from was strong, but Shouta resisted it.
“Where's your mom?” He asked instead, glancing up at the dark sky. It was far too late for a walk.
“At home,” Midoriya answered at a normal volume. He tried to shrug, but it looked more like a nervous shudder. And his hands clenched the straps of his backpack so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “I-I was studying at the library and lost track of time.” Shouta nodded and started walking again, placing a hand on Midoriya’s back to keep him from falling behind.
“How many?” He asked in a low tone.
“Um, I don’t know. There’s a guy wearing a red and blue striped shirt who I remember being at the library. And I’ve seen the same car drive by at least three times.”
Shouta grabbed Midoriya’s arm and guided him around a corner.
“You’re sure it’s the same car?”
“Yeah. It’s a black BMW,” Midoriya said, then recited the license plate number to the man.
“Is there anyone else following you?”
“M-maybe?” Midoriya stuttered. “I keep catching people staring at me. And sometimes when I pass an alley I get a weird feeling, like maybe there’s someone there, even when I can’t see anything.”
Shouta hummed. There were so many things about the way his student was handling the situation that had numerous red flags shooting through Shouta’s sharp mind. The fact Midoriya hadn’t gone to the police. Hadn’t tried to run. Or cry out for help. It was like he didn’t think he could get any.
Shouta turned his head to look at Midoriya and pointed his eyes back to see if he could spot the threat his student was afraid of, half-expecting that, whoever it was, had abandoned the pursuit when the teen had called out to his “dad”. A second before he was about to face forward again, Shouta noticed a well-built man turning the same corner and bit back a curse when he saw the man’s red and blue striped shirt.
Thinking fast, Shouta began guiding his student towards the nearest 24-hour supermarket where there were sure to be cameras.
“Do you know him?” Shouta asked, hoping that if he could keep Midoriya talking, the kid wouldn’t notice his teacher was starting to panic. “Did you get a look at his face?”
“I don’t think so,” Midoriya answered in uncertainty. “I don’t-” he tried to look behind them but a little pressure on his arm and a sharp “don’t” from Shouta made him stop. “I don’t remember him,” the teen finished. They turned another corner and Shouta let the tension in his shoulders drop a bit when he saw his intended destination.
“We’re going in there,” Shouta gave the tiniest nod to the store. “Stay close to me.”
“Okay.”
They entered the building and Shouta grabbed a cart before leading Midoriya toward the clothing section. He pretended to be looking at the shirts while waiting to see if the predator had followed them inside. “Fuck,” he breathed out when he saw the striped shirt again.
“Aiza-?” Midoriya started to say something, but Shouta snatched a random white shirt off a shelf and held it up for the teen to see.
“Would you want this?”
“Huh?” Midoriya shot him a confused look.
“We’re shopping,” Shouta whispered through gritted teeth, shaking the shirt once. Midoriya blinked and swallowed before looking at the shirt.
“Um. I don’t think that’ll fit me.”
Now, it was Shouta’s turn to be confused. With a frown, he took a closer look at the shirt, then rolled his eyes when he saw XL on the tag. “If we find one in your size, would you want it? Would you wear it?”
Midoriya opened his mouth, then shut it again. He bit his lip in hesitation. “Are you . . . actually asking? Or . . . ?”
“Yes,” Shouta responded because he knew it would be easier to shop than just pretend to. Midoriya hesitated a bit longer as he looked at the shirt. After a few seconds, he slowly started to nod his head.
“Yeah. I-I’d wear it.”
“Alright,” Shouta put the shirt back on the shelf. “What size are you?”
“Medium.”
The man scanned the pile of shirts, found the correct size, and tossed it in the cart. Then they went to the electronics section and Shouta got the kid a pair of headphones. After that, the fake shopping trip turned into a real one as Shouta remembered he was out of food. He kept a wary eye out for the suspicious man and kept count of how many times he saw the predator. Occasionally, he turned and asked Midoriya for his input on which of two similar products to buy. Midoriya always gave him a timid look before answering.
By the time they were done, Shouta had seen the Predator a total of thirteen times. And he didn’t look like he was about to give up anytime soon. They couldn’t leave yet. Whoever the creep was, he must have a few powerful friends if he thought he could still get Midoriya even though he was with an adult now.
Making some excuse about forgetting something, Shouta wheeled the cart around and headed for an employee’s only door he’d seen earlier, taking a quick look around to make sure no one was nearby before darting through with his cart and student. Before the doors closed, he left the cart and pulled Midoriya behind a wall, then held his breath and waited. He could feel Midoriya tense up beside him.
“Ahem,” someone cleared their throat, startling Shouta, who turned to see a middle-aged woman with glasses dangling by a bronze chain around her neck glaring at him. “Sir, this area off-limits to cust-”
Shouta whipped out his wallet and showed her his ID. “Pro hero. Eraserhead.”
The woman put her glasses on and peered closely at the ID. Shouta could tell she had no idea what she was looking at. She made some humming noises and compared the picture to the hero. Finally, she nodded and stepped back, satisfied.
“Don’t take too long,” were her parting words as she left them. Shouta sighed in relief and slumped against the wall. For the past while, it had felt like his heart wanted to burst out of his chest. First the USJ attack and now this? He was beginning to think his class this year was going to get into a lot of trouble.
“I’m sorry,” Midoriya said somberly. Shouta was taken aback and looked at the teen, confused.
“What for?”
Midoriya shook, trying to contain his emotions. “If I knew how to control my quirk, I wouldn’t have needed your help. I could’ve- I could’ve fought them. Or ran away.”
Shouta sighed again. “Midoriya,” he said, “don’t dwell on things you can’t change. Just do what you can for now. Like what you did for the ball throw.” Midoriya sniffed and nodded his understanding. Shouta let his words sink in for a minute before speaking again. “Why didn’t you go to the police?”
A distraught look overcame the teen’s face. “I didn’t have any proof,” he said, his voice cracking and Shouta remembered another thing about this particular student and all of the sudden the red flags from before started making sense.
Midoriya was thought to be quirkless up until the entrance exam.
Quirkless discrimination was a socially accepted part of life and the majority of accusations made by quirkless people were disregarded as them being “too sensitive”. After dealing with that for so long, it was no wonder the kid felt he couldn’t go to the police for help. Shouta felt an unexplainable urge to reach out and comfort Midoriya but held himself back.
“Thank you for coming to me,” he said. He stressed the first two words. He wanted Midoriya to know he wasn’t upset with him. That Shouta preferred having to dance around the supermarket than potentially losing his student to a group of guys with dubious intentions.
Midoriya's eyes looked at him, doubtful, for a moment. Then he sucked in a shaky breath and lurched into Shouta’s chest, startling him.
“I was s-so scared!” he cried into the capture weapon around Shouta’s neck. Shouta shook his head to clear the shock and wrapped his arms around Midoriya’s small body. He felt awkward and wanted to pull back, but the teen relaxed against him, so he stayed where he was. Midoriya trembled in his arms for a few minutes before wresting control of his breathing and pulling away.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, shyly, keeping his head down. Shouta stifled yet another sigh.
“Don’t apologize for needing something.”
Midoriya pursed his lips, no doubt ready to say that hugs weren’t necessary for life. But Shouta, who was much older and much, much wiser knew better and gave his student his best ‘don’t-argue-with-me’ look that succeeded far better than he could’ve hoped for as Midoriya’s mouth flapped open and closed several times before he finally managed to speak.
“How’re we supposed to know when it’s safe to leave?” He asked, changing the subject. A slight frown creased Shouta’s forehead as he thought about the question. From what he’d seen of Midoriya’s pursuers, they were persistent as fuck and wouldn’t leave, no matter how much time passed between sightings of their prey. Shouta hummed in thought. He was sure he could take the guy in the striped shirt. The reason why he hadn’t was because he didn’t know if the guy had backup. He didn’t know who the backup might be. And he didn’t know what quirks they possessed. If Shouta attacked the Predator and some unseen enemy with the ability to paralyze him was able to use their quirk on him . . .
Shouta groaned in frustration.
“Sensei?” His student sounded worried. He probably wanted Shouta to reassure him that everything would be okay. But reassurances were what other heroes did. They smiled and wore brightly-colored costumes. They did interviews and signed autographs.
Shouta wasn’t like them, so he didn’t say anything. Instead, he continued to think through the problem. What they needed was a deterrent. An idea popped into Shouta’s head and he smiled.
“Sensei?” Midoriya said again, still sounding worried, but for a different reason than before. Shouta ignored him, pulled out his phone, and called Tsukauchi. The phone rang twice before being answered.
“Eraser?” The detective sounded as if he’d just finished getting settled in bed.
“I need a patrol car to drive around the supermarket in Ranzar,” Shouta told him and Tsukauchi sighed.
“Marked?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. I’ll have Sansa head there right away. Do you need a getaway car?”
“That would be great. Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
Shouta hung up the phone and turned to his student. “We’ll get you home soon. Just hang on a bit longer.”
“Okay,” Midoriya nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but held whatever it was back. Shouta had a guess as to what the teen was thinking.
“Let’s see if we can gain access to the security room. We can watch the cameras for when that creep leaves.”
Understanding found its way onto Midoriya’s face as he mouthed the word ‘oh’. Shouta pushed himself away from the wall and looked around. Catching sight of the woman from earlier, he waved her over. The woman pursed her lips before obliging. Shouta told her to take them to the security office and, after a moment where her mouth flapped as she seemed to consider denying the request, she gave a sharp nod and led them towards the back.
The security room was through a white door on almost the opposite side of where the employees' only door was Shouta and his student had rushed through. The woman knocked twice on the door before pushing it open and leaning inside.
“There’s a hero here that wants to come in here,” she said. A deep voice groaned in return and the woman stepped back as a tall man wearing a guard uniform stepped into the doorway. His eyes were completely black and his face was set in a permanent scowl.
“ID?” He demanded and Shouta held out his wallet again. The man peered closely at the Hero License. Unlike when the woman had looked at it before, this guy seemed to know what to look for in a hero’s ID. Once he was satisfied, he nodded his approval and stepped back to let them in. The woman nodded back and turned away.
Inside the room, the only light sources were the monitors that showed the security footage. A single desk chair sat in front of them. Shouta scanned the screens and frowned when he spotted the Predator hanging around the spot where Shouta had last sighted him.
The security guard cleared his throat, drawing Shouta’s attention his way, then looking pointedly at Midoriya.
“He’s with me,” Shouta answered the unasked question. The man grunted, shrugging as he let Midoriya in too and closed the door. Shouta turned back to the monitors, quickly finding the creep again and tracking him as he wandered through the store, looking for Shouta's student. Occasionally, the Predator would stop next to one person, or another, every once in a while and exchanged a few words. A pit formed in Shouta’s stomach as he recognized two of the people the man talked to. One of them had gotten close enough to Midoriya to brush up against him. Shouta’s mouth went dry and he swallowed several times.
Shouta watched and waited, refusing to leave until five minutes after the man and every person he talked to had gone. Then he thanked the guard for his help and, placing an arm around Midoriya’s shoulders to keep him close, he led the way back to the shopping cart. Luckily it was still where they’d left it and Shouta grabbed it on the way out. As they made their way to the check-out, Shouta found himself gripping his student tightly whenever anyone got too close to them.
When they got to the register and Shouta began putting everything on the belt, he took a good look at the shirt he’d picked out for the kid. He hadn’t paid much attention to what was on it before, but now he cast a side-long glance at Midoriya when he read “T-shirt” written in black across the chest. Midoriya didn’t seem to notice the look and after Shouta paid for everything they walked together out of the store.
Shouta took a deep breath of the chilled night air before looking around for Tsukauchi. He spotted the man leaning against his grey unmarked car and led his student to him.
“Eraser,” Tsukauchi nodded when he saw his friend, eyes flickering over to Midoriya for a moment before opening the back door of his car and gesturing for Shouta to put his groceries inside. “Midoriya,” he greeted the hero student.
The teen gave the detective a nod and helped put the groceries in the back
They got in the car, Shouta taking the front passenger seat while Midoriya sat in the back. The detective put the key in the ignition, turned it, then asked,
“Where to?”
It was a harmless question, but Shouta knew what he was really asking. Do we need to go to the station? Shouta fully intended to file a police report, but his student needed to get home and he’d already been told everything the kid had seen.
“Let’s take Midoriya home,” Shouta answered. Tsukauchi nodded and put the car in drive.
“Address?”
Shouta looked over his shoulder at Midoriya. It was ridiculous that he had remembered the kid’s dad lived in America, and that the kid was quirkless until fairly recently, but he couldn’t remember Midoriya’s address. “Where do you live, kid?”
Midoriya glanced up at him briefly. “Musutafu.”
Shouta and Tsukauchi shared a look. “What were you doing in Ranzar?”
“I didn’t want to lead them to my home.”
Shouta looked again to Tsukauchi, who shrugged. “That sounds logical.”
Shouta agreed but didn’t say so. Tsukauchi drove them to Musutafu prefecture, where Midoriya then guided the detective to his apartment. They parked in an empty spot and Midoriya got out of the car after confirming they were in the right place. Shouta didn’t let the kid get too far before, after reaching into one of the shopping bags for Midoriya’s shirt and headphones, he, too, exited the vehicle. They walked up four flights of stairs and Midoriya led his teacher to his door. Just as he was reaching for the doorknob, Shouta stopped him and held out the shirt and headphones. Midoriya looked between the shirt and his teacher.
“R-really?” He asked in disbelief. Shouta nodded and offered them again.
“I bought these for you.”
Slowly, tentatively, like he was worried Shouta would pull the items away as soon as he touched them, Midoriya took the gifts and held them gingerly. Then he took a deep breath and hugged Shouta again. This time, Shouta was quicker to return the embrace. It didn’t feel as awkward as it had before.
“Thank you,” Midoriya whispered. “Thank you, sensei.”
Shouta swallowed. “Anytime.” He hoped his student knew he meant it.
Midoriya released his teacher and went inside while Shouta returned to Tsukauchi’s car. The detective had exited his car and greeted the hero with a nod.
“I’ll stake out the building until sunrise,” Tsukauchi said. “Then we’ll put a cop car across the street.”
“Good,” Shouta nodded and cleared his throat. “I guess I should get going. I need to file a report . . .” his eyes trailed back to Midoriya’s apartment, not wanting to leave his student, even if he believed the kid was safe.
“Wanna keep watch with me?” Tsukauchi said after a minute of silence.“You can file that report on my laptop.”
Shouta looked at him, surprised. Then his heart filled with gratitude for the man. “Okay,” he said as he opened the car door to get in. Tsukauchi got in the car after him and handed Shouta his laptop.
Shouta opened the laptop and, before doing anything else, looked up once more at Midoriya’s door.
“Thank you,” he said, the words falling from his lips easily as he turned to his friend. Tsukauchi smiled.
“Anytime.”
Shouta went back to staring up at the door again, promising himself that his student would be okay before going back to the laptop and getting started on the report.
Shouta didn’t like kids. But this one was starting to grow on him.