Chapter Text
It's a regular day for class 1A. As usual, none of them are in their seats. Aizawa can already sense a long day coming before he even opens the door. He's tired, exhausted. Overnight he had a job to handle with a villain whose quirk was obscure. Mic and Midnight even had to join in. At some point Mic and Aizawa both got hit by the quirk, but after losing track of the villain they both got checked up on, and were told they'd be fine. So off to their other job. Teaching. Yay. Aizawa stands at his podium, hand already inching towards his sleeping bag.
“Alright class. Here's the deal. You all have a test coming up, as you know. I would highly suggest studying your notes on defensive movement and offensive positioning. You have a class with Midnight after this, and you'll need it.” Aizawa announces. The class all looks at him. A few scoffs, mainly from Bakugo and Kaminari, but other than that most of them take their seats.
Aizawa turns, intending to write something on the board. But then it hits. He's hot. Too hot. Like…overwhelmingly hot. The class picks up immediately.
“Sensei? Are you alright?” Midoriya asks. Of course he asks. Aizawa hits his knees. Now his body is cramping. Yaoyorozu gets up immediately, along with Ochako and Iida. “Mr. Aizawa! Do you need a medic? Should we get recovery girl?” Iida asks. All Aizawa can do is groan in pain. What is happening? He doesn't get sick. But what else could it be? His eyes widened. The quirk. Which means-
The class gasps. Because now, before them, instead of their collapsed teacher, is now a boy, about their age, wearing clothes way too big, a scarf that's way too long, and is definitely not their teacher. Well…at least not normally. Aizawa inhales as the pain leaves his body. He sits up. ‘What? Why do his clothes and body feel so…weird?’ “You.” He says, pointing at Yaoyorozu. He stops. That's not his voice. He grabs his throat. “Does anyone have a mirror?” He asks. Sometimes they carry small pocket mirrors with them. Or even a phone.
“Um…here you go…sensei…I mean…uh..…” Yaoyorozu hands him a small mirror she carries with her. He snatches it out of her hand and immediately looks. His eyes widen. “What the fuck.” He states. Plain and simple. Clear confusion. There's no doubt. This has to be the quirk that hit him. And that means…“Mic.” Aizawa says. He stands. And immediately sits back down because his clothes are too big and he doesn't want them to fall off. He looks around at the class of teens with their eyes on him. He feels a familiar feeling. An old, but familiar feeling. Judgement. Self consciousness. He grits his teeth. “I may be aged down but I'm still your teacher. Iida, go to the English room. Check on Present Mic. I believe he got hit by the same quirk as me. Midoriya, go get Recovery Girl. Now. And Bakugo. Go get Nezu.” He orders, quickly and sternly. The three move quickly, but not without looking back. “Go.” Aizawa orders, even more stern. He looks at the rest. “Get back to studying. Not a peep. I don't want to see anyone without your faces in your books. No one, and I mean no one, is to let anyone else know about this. Understood?” He demands. They all nod and get back to their books.
Aizawa shuffles behind his podium. He's a teenager again. How….? Unless…They have to find this villain. Surely he's registered in some database. If they can figure out his quirk, they can fix this.
Aizawa won't admit it out loud. But he feels scared. Which is ridiculous. He's a pro hero. A teacher. An adult! He shouldn't be scared! It's just the quirk. Yeah. Just the quirk. Everything is fine. Everyone's head snaps to the door. Footsteps. Too heavy to be Nezu. Too light to be Bakugo or Iida. The door opens. A blond boy, wearing glasses, a black shirt, and some white jeans, comes into the room. He's unmistakable. To Aizawa at least. But everyone else can probably guess from his voice. “Shouta?” Mic asks. Aizawa nods. So he was right. Hizashi is in the same predicament as him.
“Where'd you get clothes that fit from?” Aizawa asks. It's not the right question. But everything feels wrong. At the very least he can try and find suitable clothing. “A student from another class. They offered me some so I'd have some clothes to wear.” Hizashi says. The entire class is watching them. Aizawa pulls his knees up, trying to be smaller, not realizing he's repeating habits that ended after school. Hizashi's eyes soften. So he decides to do what always fixes things. Humor. He turns to the class, his voice cracking as he speaks, considering he's now their age. “Well Listeners, this is interesting. Now we can all hate school, am I right?” He tries. And…nothing. The whole class is just….staring. Even Hizashi feels a little insecure. “Well then…could someone get a training uniform for Eraserhead here?” Hizashi asks.
Mina gets up, immediately heading for the shelves with spare uniforms. She finds one quickly and hands it over. “Here you go Sensei.” She says, trying to keep her usual happy tone despite the circumstances. Behind the podium, Aizawa changes under his big clothes, and once the uniform is on, he shoves off the oversized hero outfit he has. He stands slowly, still feeling odd, but glad to be in fitting clothes. He turns to Hizashi. “I sent Iida to find you. He will probably be back soon once he notices you aren't in your classroom. Bakugo and Midoriya should be back soon with Nezu and Recovery Girl.” Aizawa explains. Hizashi nods. And finally, since Aizawa isn't hiding, the class figures it's appropriate. Hands raise. Hizashi glances at Aizawa. And then steps forward. “I'll answer very few questions. Clearly we are just as confused as you are, Listeners.” Hizashi says.
Kaminari asks first. “So is this what you guys looked like at our age?” Hizashi nods.”Yes. This is what we looked like when we attended this school at our ages.” Todoroki raises his hand and asks next. “What caused this?” Hizashi glances at Aizawa. He really doesn't know. Aizawa steps forward. “We don't know yet. I have reason to believe it has to do with a villain's quirk hitting us during a job last night, but we can't say for certain.” He explains. And then Yaoyorozu. She raises her hand meekly, clearly worried. “Um…Aizawa-Sensei? You say you're our age. But…why do you…look smaller than a 16 year old?” She asks, hoping not to offend. But really, he is smaller than a healthy sixteen year old. It's almost concerning. His eyes narrow. And then…the door opens.