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Shouta Aizawa was not to be blamed for his reaction.
It had been a stressful few weeks since his students’ internships and the disaster that was Hosu. Several weeks since the speculation of Midoriya’s gender had become widespread, several since he had cut off the dead weight that had been Mineta, several since Midoriya had last broken down.
Some would say he should have been grateful that the reaction had not been so bad – some people, however, were unforgivably stupid. Certainly, Nezu had worked some sort of evil sorcery – most mainstream news sources had run simultaneous broadcasts about the importance of the privacy acts that protected all heroes and heroes-in-training from public scrutiny and while that had not been enough to stop everything about Midoriya from spreading like a wildfire, it had been kept to speculation and rumor, outside the heroic sphere and UA.
It probably would have spread further but after Mineta and Tadashi – and several more children who had been ruthlessly excised from the school in the last few weeks – the students of UA had gotten the hint and any discussion of Midoriya was kept quiet. Shouta suspected some of the reluctance to outwardly talk about it was also due to Midoriya’s friends but Shouta would deny any and all knowledge of them intimidating or outright threatening fellow students even if Nezu was to produce footage of it.
He had, in fact, been conveniently napping when Kan had come to him grumbling about fishing one of his students off the cafeteria ceiling. Just because he happened to have the only student with a gravity-defying quirk in the whole school didn’t mean Uraraka was responsible for Kan’s student’s unfortunate mishap. He had also had no knowledge of the frosted hallway that had resulted in three older students’ occupation of the hospital room with scrapes and bruises. Nor why those two third-year girls had shown up late to Ishiyama’s class covered in something that looked suspiciously like amphibian mucus. And he definitely had no idea how that second-year boy had ended up compelled to do a spirited rendition of some sort of American line dance and certainly did not appreciate the unfounded rumor that Shouta’s newest student had last been seen talking with the boy. Shinsou didn’t even seem to like Midoriya’s little group.
Other teachers had told him about these suspicions of course, but those were just suspicions and were easily dismissed without proof. Nezu had laughed in Kan’s face the first – and only time – the man had tried to lodge a complaint, and besides, the strange incidents had more or less ended after the first week of Midoriya being back. The condescending stares, loud whispers, and taunting looks had also settled down, but again, Shouta mostly attributed that to the populace of UA at least being smart enough to consider how badly an expulsion from one of the nation’s top schools – and the premiere school for heroics – would reflect on their futures before running their mouths loudly enough for Midoriya or, more importantly, Shouta to hear.
The lack of outright ridicule, however, did not mean everything was peaceful. Shouta was no fool; an uneasy peace had settled in the school and the outside world was lulled into being content in ignoring everything right now, but it was all untenable. It was a powder keg, waiting to explode.
Shouta had already received dozens of letters from concerned parents and fended off even more warnings from fellow heroes who were “only looking out for the boy” and he knew, just knew, that Midoriya was one misstep away from actually becoming a full-on national scandal. It didn’t even have to be the kid’s misstep – a single hair out of place from Shouta, or UA, or the League, or anyone else could be enough to be catastrophic.
Which of course, meant that it was the perfectly worst time to be planning for the end-of-term examinations and the joint summer program for all the hero first-years. Shouta would have cancelled the trip – forty hero students all convened together outside the safe walls of UA with minimal adult supervision usually spelled trouble without a homicidal criminal syndicate with a knack for mayhem and some inborne sense to find Shouta’s students – but it would have been a disservice for his students and, if he had learned anything throughout the year, his students would need every second of training Shouta could provide before graduation.
So instead of cancelling, Shouta had been tasked with completely rearranging the entire trip. Everything that took place outside the walls of UA had been scrapped after the USJ schedule had been compromised, months upon months of careful planning wasted, yet another crime to place at the League’s feet, and it was no mean feat to find a suitable training ground for forty destructive kids that was isolated, secretive, and available on short notice.
Shouta had, of course, found somewhere, but now it was a matter of having enough time to scope it out and ensure it was up to the task, coordinating with the owners of the area on how they would balance training with their regular duties, how UA would compensate and, evil of all evils, properly filling out the liability paperwork in triplicate to deliver to the Commission for final approval.
Shouta hated paperwork but he hated the Commission’s paperwork most of all. They had already sent it back once, because a form had somehow been mislabeled even though Shouta knew it hadn’t been – they were just pulling one of their illogical powerplays, they had been full of them since Hosu and Shouta fully blamed Hawks for that.
Even if Shouta didn’t have the trip to plan, exams alone would have had him pulling out his hair. His, of course, had been done since the beginning of last school year and only required some mild tweaking for the new assignment he had given his first years – the work about disadvantaged communities was traditionally a second year project but his students could only benefit from the early instruction and at the very least, would survive to the next semester if they took something from it – but others hadn’t even begun theirs.
Others meaning “All Might,” in this case. The success of his class for the semester almost wholly depended on the Heroics final, a culminative test that was supposed to showcase how the students could adapt an entire semester’s worth of lessons across all of their classes into a practical exam, and yet the idiot hadn’t even started bar having a few ideas.
Another year, with another teacher, Shouta might have accepted the idea of mock battles between students paired by joint or complementary weaknesses and teachers suitably equipped to expose those weaknesses, but there was no way Shouta would ever green light that situation in All Might’s class. Especially when the man in question had floated the idea of pairing Midoriya and Bakugou against himself.
Shouta didn’t know everything about Midoriya and Bakugou but he would willingly waltz into hell before he trusted All Might to oversee any cooperative effort between the two boys and he likely would have dragged a screaming All Might all the way down with him for even trying it. But throwing out the man’s only actual idea meant that Shouta was stuck planning the heroic practical exam along with all his other duties, on top of observing the Midoriya situation and ensuring that, when that inevitably exploded in all of their faces, it wouldn’t be his or his students’ misstep that caused it.
He was stressed beyond measure, irritated to all hell, and paranoid to the point that any unexpected situation would be handled with extreme prejudice. Therefore, he was not to be blamed for the fact that his first instinct, on a hellish Friday afternoon when classes had gone out and the only teachers left had fled the staff room after one glance at Shouta, at the sight of an obnoxiously yellow uniform and cherry red feathers suddenly perching at an open window was to push.
Had it been a lesser hero, the attempted defenestration likely would have been enough to give Shouta the alone time he craved but Hawks was, while a lot of other unsavory things, not someone who cowed easily. He barely even flailed from the harsh push and his wings had caught him in the air and uprighted him with instinctive ease. The man had even managed to get his foot back on the sill before Shouta could slam the window fully shut.
His insipid smile didn’t even turn pained when Shouta slammed the window anyway. Stupid hero-grade steel-toed boots.
“No.” Shouta’s tone was deadpan, devoid of anything but the slightest hint of more violence. Hawks’ smile just grew because, of course, the number three hero had no survival instincts.
Shouta had spared him once for their brief allyship in the hospital, but that in no way meant he wanted the brat anywhere within UA or near his students.
The kids had long gone home – Shouta had himself overseen Midoriya leaving out of the gates alongside a beaming Uraraka and a content Todoroki over twenty minutes ago, dragging a resigned Shinsou behind them. They had been the last of his students still at the school, and even giving some time for a slight delay at the train station, would all be home or nearly home by now. Hawks had little reason to be at UA unless he was looking for Midoriya and he certainly would have known the students wouldn’t stay behind long on a Friday.
Which meant Hawks was likely here for Shouta and that was nearly worse.
“Ah come on, Eraser,” Hawks cajoled as he eased his other foot onto the sill and pushed the window back open enough that his wings could nearly make it through the window. He seemed foolishly relaxed, as though Shouta wouldn’t try to push him out again, but Shouta was too practical-minded not to notice the slight tenseness in Hawk’s legs. “I thought we really had something going, ya know? Bonded at the hospital and everything!”
“How’d you even get past the gates?” Shouta demanded, neatly sidestepping the brat’s attempted lightheartedness. He knew how, of course. Nezu had to have let him in. Whether that was because Hawks had been smart enough to warn about his appearance in advance or because the principal had seen him flying in and thought it would be entertaining was undetermined, but Shouta knew, either way, the cameras in the staff room were fully trained on the two of them.
Pity that Shouta hadn’t earned a big enough favor from the rat-stoat-bear bastard to help gloss over a body. Yet.
He may be able to swing something after he finishes fixing All Might’s disastrous first year examination attempts.
“Flew right over them.” Hawks said, smile as bright and insubstantial as a Spring breeze and then, without the slightest bit of hesitation that Shouta would have thought only logical for how much he was glaring at the brat, flung himself fully into the room. “We have to talk.” He added and -
Fucking hell.
The stupid smile had vanished the moment Hawks had fully straightened up, replaced with the same burning sort of gaze Hawks had greeted him with in the hospital. Which meant whatever had brought the hero to UA, it was actually serious.
They had no cases they worked together, not in any official capacity, and it had been – blissfully – radio silent on Hawks’ end since they had left the hospital other than a brief text about no further information about the League and an inquest about the boys’ health after they had all been discharged from the hospital. Shouta wasn’t even certain Hawks had bothered keeping in touch with Midoriya, the way other mentors had. The only two things they had in common was Midoriya and the League, and only something serious would have Hawks dragging himself all the way to UA.
“What happened?” Shouta’s voice went from annoyed deadpan to brusque business as he set aside everything that annoyed him about the other man. He didn’t much like Hawks, but a serious Hawks was a professional one, and Shouta could work with that.
Hawks didn’t respond right away, his burning gaze sweeping around the room. His wings fluttered and Shouta tried not to react as he realized, a little belatedly, that Hawks was standing slightly stiff. It could have just been that he was uncomfortable – Shouta had made a mild attempt at pushing him out of the window after all – but even in the hospital, when Shouta had actually considered murdering him and made it very clear, he had still held himself with the type of careless grace that could only be manufactured.
There was something different in the posture now and it took Shouta another moment to realize, as Hawks’ gaze pinpointed each and every one of Nezu’s cameras with a shocking ease, what it was.
Hawks’ wings were still raised. And Shouta had no idea what that meant.
Was the other man reacting to a threat in the room? Was he just on edge? Was he injured?
Would Hawks have been trusting enough to come to UA if he were? Shouta dismissed the last out of hand. Hawks would have to have been in considerable pain for it to be showing up in his posture now, and, even if the man was foolish enough to believe Shouta wouldn’t make good on any and all threats he’d ever made, he wasn’t some illogically trusting fool that would have showed up to his doorstep injured and prepared to have what was bound to be a very bad conversation.
He was on edge, for some reason, more than when they had been reacting to each other in the hospital room. It had just been verbal threats he had been reacting to, although there had been no real way of knowing no physical threat would come for the boys that night – unless Hawks knew something Shouta hadn’t been privy to, which was entirely possible – which meant whatever news Hawks was bringing to him now was worse, definitely physical, possibly close at hand.
Shouta’s sense of dread only grew when Hawks, burning gaze still firmly fixed on the camera hidden in the ceiling that provided the best angel of the entire room, finally spoke, “You should come on down now, principal. This news is for you too.”
Shouta bit back the instinctive urge to demand answers; if Hawks was calling Nezu down upon himself willingly, things had to be dire. No hero as close to the Commission as Hawks would ever work with Nezu unless disaster was imminent. He likely wouldn’t be able to get any additional information until the principal joined them and it would be illogical to force Hawks to say it twice, anyway.
Undoubtedly using the same keen sense that had gotten Nezu his preeminent position as the spearhead of UA, the principal wasted no time scurrying down from his office. Shouta could have done without the elaborately set out mobile table of tea he had brought down with him, but he knew better than to argue against Nezu’s eccentricities and accepted one of the tea cups with only a small scowl.
Hawks, to his credit, accepted the forced niceties with decent grace, although he remained standing as he took the cup from Nezu’s hands. “Always wonderful to see you, Hawks.” A blatant lie, accompanied by one of Nezu’s sharpest smiles, as the principal made himself comfortable on one of the chairs and served himself his own cup of tea. “To what did the Commission send you our way for?” A dagger to the heart of the matter, thrown far quicker than Shouta would have expected form the principal. He was taking this very seriously, then.
Hawks didn’t even blink. “The Commission has learned the League is planning an attack on your kids.”
Nezu stiffened.
Shouta’s blood froze.
Neither of them had expected an easy, immediate answer. Hawks was so close with the Commission because he knew how to play the game; he danced around answers and skirted truths with the ease of the most senior Commission members. For him to be here, easily giving answers as though they cost nothing, could only mean two things. Either he was here, probably for once in his entire hero career, on his own volition or the Commission was changing the tempo.
Not, that the Commission mattered for shit, at the moment. Not when the actual meaning of Hawks’ words hit Shouta.
It was known, of course, that the League was behind the Hosu attack, although the meaning behind it was obscured by the pure, illogical bedlam that had characterized the assault. It was known, even, that whoever the fire villain who had taken out the Hero Killer had been, he had something to do with the League. Shouta had theorized, alongside the police, that the attack might have been a cover-up to quietly and quickly destroy the Hero Killer, although why the League had it out for someone who spent his time murdering heroes was unknown. So many of his students being present for the attack had been cast off as nothing more than a horrific coincidence to many involved.
Shouta’s suspicious demeanor had never quite been able to accept coincidences and now, with Hawks basically confirming what Shouta had already considered in the back of his mind, every single one of his suspicions were running rampant.
Had part of Hosu been designed to attack his students? Or had it merely ignited further interest in his students? It didn’t matter, Shouta would find out soon enough.
Because he was going to hunt down every single member of the League of Villains and end the threat with extreme prejudice.
“When?” Principal Nezu, for once, had dropped his smile and all pretenses at cheerfulness. His tone was calm, but there was a promise of intense violence laced throughout. The principal may not have been capable of the exact same emotions as his human counterparts, but he was extremely protective of what was his. It was not the same sort of protectiveness that had Shouta’s entire body singing for blood, more possessive than anything else, but it amounted to the same thing. When it came down to it, the principal would claw Shigaraki’s throat out with his bare hands before he allowed him to so much as disintegrate a single hair from another student’s head.
“How?” Shouta demanded, his tone dark. Hawks didn’t look nearly as uncomfortable as he should have, as though he had prepared himself for their reactions. Quite probably, he had. He wasn’t completely as stupid as he liked to pretend.
“I don’t know. The Commission only has word on the street to go on. That word is, Shigaraki’s interested in your students. One student in particular.” Hawks didn’t name anyone, but he didn’t have to. There was only one student, that Shouta knew of, that was capable of sowing this much chaos.
“Midoriya.” He didn’t bother phrasing it as a question but Hawks dipped his head for a moment, a silent agreement to Shouta’s deepest fears.
It was always Midoriya.
“I don’t know how much they know about him or when they’re going to strike. But they are coming for him.”
“Let them.” Shouta’s voice was sharp and deadly as a knife. “It’ll be the last thing Shigaraki and whatever fool guiding him ever does.”
A smart, logical person would have been afraid of Shouta, in that moment. Hawks, who somehow managed to be both and neither on the regular basis, looked positively delighted.
“Ah, Eraser, I knew you’d say that.”
And then, just like that, in the hallowed halls of the preeminent hero school, the most unlikely of trinities was formed.
And the world was about to tremble.