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“Since when had children been allowed to play soldiers? Always, he answered himself. They make the best soldiers because they still think they're immortal.”
- Cornelia Funke, Inkdeath
Aizawa Shouta has long since accepted that he is no one's favorite teacher.
It's not the easiest pill to swallow, he admits. Everyone wants to be liked, and even he, heartless as he may seem, is no exception.
There is a paradox there, though; he is both proud and ashamed of this reputation he has worked so hard to build. It is, ultimately, for the safety of his students, but there are days when he cannot help but long for another life, one where can afford to be kinder, gentler, more understanding.
He sees glimpses of it sometimes, when well-earned praise is met with shock, then joy. He sees it when understanding dawns, and frustration makes way for pride. He sees it when he gives his students recommendation letters to send to hero agencies, and watches them read his assessments of their abilities, their growth.
He wants to be that for them. But he can't ever allow it.
No, he is well hated, and understandably so. He's expelled dozens of his students, often on their first day of class. Those who are re-enrolled tend to betray their misunderstanding of the exercise by seething behind his back, while those who are not asked to return…
He understands their pain. Becoming a pro hero is a near universal dream job, and to see your chance burned before your eyes hurts. He can't entirely blame them for the breakdown that comes next.
All the same, he'd prefer their dreams to die than for those same dreams to carry them, ultimately, to their own death.
So he is harsh. He is unrelenting, demanding nothing less than perfection from each and every one of his students, without fail. He guides them, yes, nurtures them, but he makes it perfectly clear that there will be no room for those who do not give their all.
Hizashi makes fun of him, from time to time, but he understands better than most the motives behind Shouta’s coldness.
When they were seventeen, they watched one of their best friends die. It changed them, permanently. Shouta knew, from that moment on, that he could never let it happen again.
So it starts with the students. The foolish, the overzealous, the arrogant - and, unfortunately, the weak. Shouta prunes them from his classes not to punish them, but to save them.
Because he knows, firsthand, that even the kindest souls can fall victim to the violence of this world. Intentions can only take you so far.
When the hell class comes along, he doesn't expect anything to be different. He's seen the archetypes hundreds of times now: the earnest, the shy, the arrogant, the bullies... He sees a class full of them, and begins sorting them, mentally, into categories, preparing for what always comes next.
He makes his threats, and does not relish in the shock and indignation visible in every set of eyes. He pretends to, sure, but he wishes - desperately, some days - that it didn't have to be this way.
Then come the tests. He wishes, often, for more time to analyze each student, but it is better to break their hearts early than to let them blunder on towards death while he deliberates.
Each of his students performs more or less to his expectations. They are rough around the edges, lacking in technique, but they show promise - with one exception.
Midoriya Izuku is an enigma. He has one of the most powerful quirks Shouta has ever seen, and yet he is entirely untrained, almost as though he has avoided using it until this point.
He's seen this kind of thing before, but it's different this time. Usually, he finds at least one powerful, arrogant little bastard in his class, so used to getting their way that the concept of having to work for something is entirely foreign to them.
Their powerful abilities have propelled them effortlessly to this point, and Shouta often takes at least some pleasure in making them face reality. While some are quickly humbled, others remain foolishly bullheaded, right up until their expulsion.
But Midoriya is not arrogant. He is shy, almost afraid of his fellow classmates. It could easily be a charade, but for what purpose?
No, it seems genuine.
Still, if he can't get that ridiculous quirk in check, Shouta can't see a future for him in the hero course. He's considering moving the child to general studies with an offer of private tutoring and quirk counseling when Midoriya pulls out another surprise.
He breaks one finger.
Instead of breaking his entire arm, as he did during the entrance exam, he concentrates the force of his quirk into one finger.
It works, but it's still destructive. The kid is gritting his teeth, cradling one hand in the other, but he's shown he has a good head on his shoulders, or at least good enough to satisfy Shouta for today.
He relays this to Hizashi after school is let out, and his partner just laughs.
“You're growing soft, Shou,” he mocks, though his tone is fond. Shouta shakes his head, takes a sip from his drink.
“I'm giving him one chance,” he says, pointing right at Hizashi. “One.”
Because even if Midoriya is a fast learner, he's working against the clock. He's behind his peers before they've even begun, and even with all the resources UA has to offer, Shouta isn't sure he'll be able to make up the difference.
Maybe he is going soft; a few years ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about a case like this. Midoriya would be out of the program, and likely so would a few others in his class - but this year, they all stay.
He supposes even the coldest hearts have to melt eventually.
“Honestly, I think it's a good thing,” says Hizashi. “Everyone needs a few chances to prove themselves, right?”
Shouta is quiet for a moment.
“It’s a slippery slope. You know as well as I do.”
This year's class has potential, that's all. He's certainly not going to go easy on them, but they should know that already.
Midoriya Izuku will have to give it his all. If he doesn't, Hizashi will remember that Shouta is far from soft, at least where the safety of his students is concerned.
If he has to be cruel to protect them, then so be it. If he has to betray his own heart, then so be it. He will not watch another child die, not when he could have prevented it.
One chance.
If he doesn't protect them, no one will.