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Shouta Aizawa was absolutely done. Absolutely, completely, finally, terminally, put-his-two-weeks in for all the bullshit type done. The type of done that would get him a prison sentence if he had been just a decade younger or a hair more impulsive.
Absolutely, entirely, utterly, turn-the-page-the-story-is-over type done.
“He’ll wake in his own time, panic attacks can be stressful.” Shouta knew this, of course he fucking knew this; he wasn’t some rookie teacher not yet experienced in teenage drama, and it took all of his effort not to growl at Recovery Girl.
She wouldn’t appreciate it, Shouta knew, not in her own domain or anywhere else, and besides, he was likely on thin ice. He was fairly certain he had growled at several of the kids when he had taken Midoriya out of the room.
He definitely had, but Iida should have known better than to try to touch Midoriya in the midst of a panic attack. And Mineta –
Shouta had never wanted to harm a child, not really. Even the biggest assholes that he had ever seen at UA were children, at the end of the day; even the worst of them had time to grow and learn and shed their awfulness to become half-way decent adults.
At least, that’s what he had thought before the purple brat had stepped into his classroom. Shouta had known, of course, that there was something off about the boy. He’d had his suspicions that the boy’s occasionally inappropriate comments were worse when he was out of hearing, that he toed the line between horny teenager and lewd, budding sex offender too sharply but without any of the girls coming forward or catching the boy in the act, Nezu had been reticent to let Shouta pull the plug on the boy’s continuing education at UA. The boy had family in inconveniently high places and the hero commission had begun eyeing Shouta’s expulsion record a little too closely.
That was before, when hand-shaped red marks, whispering students, abundant rumors, and quiet suspicions that comments like “No, sir, we just thought it would be fun to dress up in the uniforms!” were simply an attempt to keep a nonexistent peace. Before, Shouta hadn’t had any concrete answers. Now, Shouta had plenty. The boy had been gone before the school day had even officially begun.
All it had taken was a massive panic attack and what could very well be the end of Shouta’s most promising student.
Expulsion wasn’t enough, Shouta had thought when he had carried Midoriya out of the room, mouth bared into a snarl that had kept even his husband at bay as he’d stalked down the halls. And he thought the same now, upon hearing the news that physically, his student was fine and all they could do for him was call his mother once again and wait for him to wake up.
Shouta was spending far too much time, waiting for that particular student to wake up.
Expulsion wasn’t enough, not nearly. Shouta wanted blood.
Not even just Mineta’s. Mineta was a horrid child, on his way to becoming a horrid adult, but he was still just a child. There was still so much he couldn’t have done alone. Shouta wanted to know what awful adult had taught Mineta to find the deepest recesses of the internet, to navigate through the types of shady sites that would gleefully risk the wrath of UA in order to keep up salacious rumors long enough for people to actually read them. He wanted to know who owned those sites, wanted to know who had written that story. He wanted them, he would find them, and he would tear them all apart, tendon by tendon.
“Message me when he wakes.” He told Recovery Girl, sparing one more glance at Midoriya.
He was resting fitfully, in a too-damned-big bed, but he was fine. He would be fine. By the time he woke up, Shouta would have taken care of the most pressing issues.
The cat was out of the bag – Mineta had certainly not gone peacefully or quietly – but Shouta could run damage control.
Taking down everyone that had caused this would take time, but Shouta could start with the easy. He would start with what he could reach now.
He didn’t know how many classmates his problem child would have by the time he woke, but Shouta could damn sure make certain they were only the ones who deserved to be in the same room as him.
“Don’t do anything rash,” Recovery Girl warned as Shouta marched out of the room.
“I’ll do whatever is necessary.” There was a hint of a growl in his voice at those words but whether that offended Recovery Girl or not he couldn’t say. He didn’t stop to find out.
Midnight was leaning against the other side of the hall, her face carefully neutral. “Ended up having to sedate Mineta to get him to shut up.” She explained as she peeled herself off the wall and began keeping pace with him. “His mother didn’t appreciate it. She’s up in Nezu’s office complaining about it.” It was an invitation, then, for Shouta to go upstairs and deal with the pit his former student had dug himself into.
“Too bad. She shouldn’t have raised a shit child.” Shouta responded bluntly. Nezu had been the one to insist on keeping Mineta until UA had concrete evidence, he could be the one to deal with the parents. “Who’s with the other kids?” He wouldn’t call them his, not until he knew how many he would be keeping.
“You think Hizashi let anyone else watch over them? He called in his favor with Ishiyama to combine their homerooms.” A brief wave of affection temporarily softened Shouta’s anger. Of course his husband had come to watch over 1-A at the hint of trouble.
“How are they handling?” If Midnight knew who was watching over Shouta’s classroom, she must have gone to check on it herself.
“Varied. The rest of them all showed up at some point, not sure what all they’ve been filled in on. Todoroki and Uraraka at least were debriefed before they even showed up. Pretty sure Hizashi was convincing them not to commit murder.” Iida had probably texted them, likely before the bell had rung unless the situation counted as enough of an emergency to break school rules.
“Asui likely knows as well.” She was one of Midoriya’s closest friends, Iida likely would have told her as well.
Midnight just hummed thoughtfully. “The rest looked confused or concerned, some of them had barely gotten in when I showed up.” She offered as they turned the corner and strode down the hall, Shouta making a beeline for the massive door of his classroom. Confused and concerned were both fine; Shouta wasn’t worried about confused or concerned or even murderous.
It was misplaced anger and disgust he would have to root out.
“Go to Ishiyama and pull out Hitoshi Shinsou.” Shouta demanded, his voice a tad too short for it to be an actual request. “Bring him here.” There was at least one opening for the boy in Shouta’s class, but that was wholly dependent on how the boy would react to this news. There was no need to offer the boy a short-lived place in the hero course.
If Midnight took any offense to Shouta’s tone, she didn’t show it. She merely gave a short nod and turned from his side to hunt down the student. Shouta stared down the door for a moment, bracing himself for the unpleasantness that was about to happen.
Contrary to popular belief, he didn’t enjoy scaring children, and even through his anger, he knew he had to restrict the most biting thoughts from leaving his mouth lest he permanently scar whatever children remained in his classroom after this. He waited only another moment, before, after releasing a single controlled, slow breath, he reached up and opened the door.
A cacophony of noise reached his ears. Too varied and loud for Shouta to even begin to try to make out any distinct voices, he took a moment to observe the mess in front of him. Hizashi was in the front of the class, apparently having given up in keeping any semblance of order, watching the class through the top of his yellow-tinted classes with an uncommonly serious expression. He had glanced over to him, the only person in the room who had paid attention to the door, before his eyes went straight back to the class.
For good reason, Shouta could see. None of the students had lost control of their quirks, but there was an unmistakable tension in the room that felt as though it could snap at any moment. Todoroki was up from his seat, looking moments from lunging, at whom Shouta couldn’t determine. Uraraka looked not too far behind, her round, friendly face carved into severe lines. Someone was growling, others were trying to keep the peace, everyone’s voice was raised to be heard in an attempt to be heard over the others. Jirou looked pained in her seat, hands clasped over her ears.
Shouta moved to stand next to Hizashi. “Enough.” The word was quiet, half-growled out. Had it been anyone else, Shouta was certain the kids wouldn’t have even registered someone had spoken, but while the students had a ways to go in their perception skills, he had already ingrained into them the need to listen for and – more importantly - to him.
Silence. Immediate silence as all eyes eighteen pairs of eyes swiveled to meet him. Remarkable, how quickly they had learned. A shame, perhaps, that not all of them would be around to continue honing that skill.
Or perhaps not. Shouta had no time or patience to teach fools. And sexists were perhaps some of the biggest fools in the world.
“Mr. Aizawa!” Iida found his voice first, his face taut with worry. “How is Midoriya?”
“Midoriya is resting.” Shouta responded, his voice clipped into carefully neutral tones as he drew his eyes across the whole class. Todoroki was still standing but a single raised eyebrow was enough to have the boy – reluctantly – fall into his seat.
Iida’s question had broken the silence. At once, several were speaking –
“What happened to Midori-bro?”
“He’s okay, right?”
“Is it because of the attack in Hosu?”
“He’s not really an omega, is he?”
Shouta’s eye twitched violently at the last question but he bit back the worst of his thoughts as he spoke. “I will explain in a moment. We are waiting for someone. There are to be no more questions or speculation about your classmate until everyone is here.” There were grumbles and more than a few displeased looks, but the children fell into an obedient silence.
Blissfully silent as it was, it was easy to hear the soft clatter of Midnight’s low heels against the hard floor of the hallway. Only a few moments later, the door was opening once more and Midnight was marching into the room, a confused looking Hitoshi Shinsou following closely behind.
“Shinsou.” Shouta greeted coolly. “There is an empty spot in my classroom,” He gestured towards the room where technically two desks stood empty. “It is yours, provided how well you respond to what is coming next. Take that seat.” He gestured towards Mineta’s empty desk, ignoring the sounds of shock erupting behind him.
Shinsou’s face – carefully impassive though it had been when he had first entered – broke into one of first sheer disbelief, quickly followed by amazement warring with confusion but he barely hesitated before claiming the seat, slamming his bag down almost possessively as though afraid he would fail just by not taking the spot assertively enough.
Shouta waited for the sounds of protest to drop off – a quick action when his glare was enough to quell even full-grown villains – before he spoke again. “I am sure all of you have heard something about what took place in this classroom before the bell rang. Mineta began prying into Midoriya’s personal life, using information he found from a disreputable website, which caused Midoriya to have a panic attack. Midoriya is resting in the hospital room with Recovery Girl, he will rejoin the class once he has been cleared to do so. Mineta has been expelled, effective immediately, and will not be back in this classroom or this school.”
“What?”
“Just like that?”
“Where is he?” Shouta could only make out a few of the questions shouted out but he answered none of them. Especially the last one, directed from Uraraka, who was undoubtedly asking about Mineta for less than innocent reasons, judging from the way her fingers were clenching against her palm, pinky barely out to prevent an accident.
“Mineta’s actions were unbecoming of a hero student, I will discuss him no further in this classroom. As for Midoriya, it is not my place or anyone else’s to discuss his personal information, any more than it would be appropriate to talk about any of yours. What he decides to share with you as his classmates is his business. However,” Here Shouta paused, making sure he made eye contact with each and every one of the students. “If any one of you doubt that an omega can become a hero, I can personally assure they can, just as I can assure you there will be no space in my classroom or any other classroom in UA for illogical bigotry or the people who spout it. Do I make myself clear?”
There was silence at his words, apart from a few uncontained gasps, and a half-concerned hiss from Hizashi beside him. Shouta was unsurprised – he had never once revealed his secondary gender to one of his classes – some students had gleamed the truth of it, but Shouta had never once willingly shared the information to any one of them but Midoriya. It didn’t matter, though, not when it ensured his point was made very clear.
The students weren’t entirely stupid – even if Shouta had outright refused to admit anything about Midoriya’s secondary gender, it was as much of a confirmation as an outright admission – but this would serve as enough of a distraction to get some of the attention off Midoriya.
It also allowed him to gauge their reactions without putting Midoriya’s feelings on the chopping block. Shouta had dealt with far worse than a few sexist teenagers and it wouldn’t hurt his feelings any to have disbelief or disgust thrown at him. The main expression on all the students’ faces was surprise – with the exception of Iida who had already known, Yaoyorozu who was more observant than anyone ever gave her credit for and, for some reason, Todoroki who merely looked as though something finally made sense.
For a lot of the students, the surprise melted off quickly – Bakugou seemed to accept the news the fastest, his expression quickly melting into one of disdainful boredom, likely thinking his day could be better spent knocking his other students about instead of talking about secondary sexes. His problem really was solely with Midoriya as a person, which brought a strange sense of relief to Shouta. He could deal with personal animosity far better than bigotry. Asui, Kirishima, and Uraraka too seemed to accept it easily enough. None of them had surprised Shouta. Asui was too level-headed for the kind of illogical thoughts that predominated sexist thinking and Uraraka too full of spirited optimism to willfully believe someone less capable because of their secondary gender. It helped, too, that both had already known and accepted Midoriya. Kirishima, too, wasn’t a surprise, although Shouta knew for a fact that he hadn’t known about Midoriya. The boy was simply too gentle-hearted and kind for any sort of bigotry to take solid root. The worst that would come from him, Shouta was certain, was that old kind of chivalry traditional alphas liked to spout off and that could quickly be curbed if it went too far.
Sero and Kaminari’s expressions were split between being surprised and guilty at being surprised. Shouta wasn’t too worried about either of them when it came to underestimating omegas but he would have to watch both of them, particularly Kaminari, when it came to inappropriate or ill-thought out jokes. They would be the worst in the sexual education lecture, now that Mineta would be gone. Shoji’s eyes had lost their shock quickly and the boy’s expression was nothing but polite calm from what Shouta could make out of it. Shouta knew he had figured out Midoriya and had accepted him readily enough with that steadfast calm that permeated all his actions.
Kouda’s shocked expression had morphed into a pleasant sort of surprise – he was the only beta in a houseful of omegas, though, Shouta knew, and he had been placed in Shouta’s class specifically because every teacher had agreed he would be more comfortable with an omega, even if the boy didn’t know Shouta was one. If anything, this news about Shouta and Midoriya would only serve to make the boy open up a little more.
Shinsou had hardly reacted at the news at all besides a single slow blink. Shouta was not too worried about the boy; at the very least, he was smart enough to keep any negative thoughts to himself and standoffishness enough that Midoriya would likely befriend him in seconds, especially seeing as the smaller boy had already laid Shinsou out flat once and he had a knack for collecting those sort of classmates as friends.
The others, however, Shouta watched more closely. Hagakure was either nervous or anxious, judging from the way her sleeve was raised up close to where her head must have been, the cuff of her sleeve twisting slightly – twirling a lock of invisible hair, Shouta was certain. It was a common habit of the girl’s, a usual sight during exams or a particularly grueling assignment, when the girl was unsure about something. She was smart enough to keep her mouth shut, though, and Shouta was almost certain she didn’t mean anything negative about it; he had yet to hear her say anything bad about Midoriya at the very least.
Ashido just looked shell-shocked, as though she had never considered the possibility of an omega in a hero classroom – a bad reaction, but doubtfully a malicious one. The girl had yet to show a malicious bone in her body. Jirou’s face had gone carefully neutral – neither a good nor a bad sign, considering that she had been someone who had kept a distance from Midoriya, neither acting positively nor negatively to his quirklessness. Not a good enough reason to expel from the classroom of course, but a large enough concern that it was only logical that Shouta would have to watch her in the coming days.
Tokoyami’s expression was neutral as well, but Shouta was less concerned about that. The boy’s expression was rarely anything but neutral and he’d had no issues fighting alongside Midoriya. Yuga, like Ashido, looked shocked, but there was a theatricality to the shock that Shouta didn’t like – whether it was just the boy’s over-the-top personality poking through or an attempt of his to hide any ill-feelings, Shouta would have to observe. He leaned towards the former, but he would have to be certain, for Midoriya’s sake.
The last two worried Shouta the most – there was an ugliness to the sudden uncertainness on Sato’s face, as though he now doubted Shouta as a teacher, and there was no logical reason for Ojiro to look so guilty unless he was suddenly regretting giving up his hesitance and gentleness around Midoriya.
They would be the next out of the classroom if they so much as breathed a word against Midoriya or cast doubt on Shouta as a teacher.
Shouta had no time for such nonsense, from children or adults, and if he couldn’t shape all the students into halfway decent heroes that would treat everyone in their care and every single one of their peers with equal respect, then he had no business wasting his time teaching them.
Shouta would not suffer fools and he would not make Midoriya suffer them either.