Chapter Text
“I don’t think I need to impress on you how crucial these next four weeks are for you as future Pro Heroes.”
Aizawa’s voice was low and as serious as ever. Izuku clenched his fists in his lap as his classmates barely suppressed their excitement.
Kaminari was practically vibrating and beside him, Ashido looked practically feral with the effort of keeping her eagerness in check. For Kirishima, it proved impossible.
“I’m going to go with the Mirko!” He practically shouted. Aizawa rolled his eye hard enough that a phantom ache appeared in Izuku’s own eye. Kirishima’s exclamation set the table for everyone else and in no time everyone was revealing their top choices with increasing excitement.
“I’m going to Gunhead!”
“Kero, I decided on Gang Orca…”
“You bunch of losers! I’m obviously going with Best Jeanist!”
Behind Izuku, even Shinso piped up–
“I’m thinking of reaching out to Hawks with Tokoyami.”
Izuku turned slightly, sparing a smile for his friend.
“That suits you, especially as an aspiring Under. It’s important to know all aspects of Hero work, so this is a pretty good opportunity for you to see the other side.”
Shinso flushed slightly and nodded.
“Where are you thinking of going?”
All of a sudden the classroom came to a screeching halt. Everyone suddenly stopped talking and Izuku’s skin prickled as every eye in the room went to him.
Izuku swallowed down the initial prickle of anxiety that had become his bitter friend in the past few years. He smiled a bit tightly.
“I haven’t approached the Agency I want yet, but I’m planning to do it today. When they agree, I’ll be sure to let everyone know, but if they disagree then, heh, I might just keep it to myself and swallow the embarrassment, you know?”
“I promise you, Izuku, no Agency in Japan is going to say “no” to you,” Ochako giggled. That set off a round of snickers and fond exclamations about Izuku’s presumed humbleness.
Izuku just smiled and bared it. When he looked back forward, Aizawa’s eye was trained on him, and flickered away the second Izuku caught him staring.
It was with the spirit of Ochako’s comment, that Izuku stayed in his seat while everyone packed up after Aizawa’s lesson. The second they noticed him remaining, they also grinded to a halt and Izuku sent them a slightly exasperated look.
“It’s alright, you can go. I just wanted to talk to Sensei about something.” He said, and the class murmured their curiosity but piled out, after the tacit knowledge that the following conversation was private.
Izuku could hear Katsuki grumbling to their friends about Izuku and the way everyone looked at him like he was their leader, but Katsuki had paused the same way everyone else had. He had looked at Izuku, no matter how briefly, and had waited to be dismissed, just the same as everyone else.
Izuku hated it.
After the War, it felt like Izuku had faded away and a God had taken his place. Something to be paraded around and followed, looked at with these beseeching eyes, eyes that begged him to save them– to approve of them, to live among them but never forget his place above them.
Izuku hated it. He hated it so much.
Toshinori had sat him down after and quietly told him that everything would change. At the time Izuku had laughed nervously and dismissed it but as the weeks turned to months, and the months to years– more and more of Midoriya Izuku had been chipped away and lost in the wind and storm of the Pro Hero: Deku.
And now here he was, standing on the cusp of his graduation from UA and headed to a life of Hero work, a life of expectations and a wide smile that seemed like it would one day split Izuku’s face in half.
It wasn’t all bad, though. Izuku loved his classmates, he loved his quirk, he loved that he would be able to save people with his smile just the way he had always dreamed of as a child.
It was just… tiring. More than he had expected, and Toshinori only had apologies for him these days, as if he could only see the way Izuku struggled, rather than hold him through it and admire the strength it took.
“You had something to say to me?”
Izuku reeled back slightly, snapping out of his thoughts. The classroom had cleared, probably for a while now, and he flushed at the thought that Aizawa had just been watching him for some time before saying anything.
He stood, approaching his sensei’s desk slowly.
“Sorry, I was distracted,” he apologized, but Aizawa just brushed it off, raising his brow expectantly. Nerves prickled at his stomach and he fought the urge to fidget under his gaze.
“I wanted to talk about the Work Studies we’re doing for the next four weeks.” He said as boldly as he could. Aizawa hummed, still waiting for Izuku to get to the point. Izuku inhaled, and then,
“Please accept me as your Intern, Aizawa-sensei!”
Aizawa blinked.
Before he could say anything, Izuku found himself blabbering– a habit he thought he’d left behind after his first year, but somehow Aizawa still managed to bring it out of him–
“I’ve thought it through more than once! I know there are a lot of agencies who would be willing to take me on as a student for the next four weeks but I feel, now more than ever, that I want to go with someone I trust, and who is familiar to me.”
“Mido–”
“You probably don’t want to have to deal with me for the next four weeks, but I did a lot of research while I was considering agencies and I know you’re the owner of your own Agency, and it has more than just Underground Heroes, you also have Present Mic, so it’s-it’s really more Twilight, and you’ve also made the transition to Twilight Heroics, so it fits with what I want as well–”
“Midoriya–”
Izuku flinched, squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to see Aizawa’s expression when he rejected him.
“... you really want this?”
His eyes snapped open and his head whipped up. He met Aizawa’s eye, finding a trace of amusement there.
“I want it!” He blurted, and Aizawa snorted slightly as Izuku blushed at the loud exclamation.
“Meet me after your last class and we’ll get the paperwork signed then.” Aizawa said simply. He stood and gathered his papers and things. “I don’t mind taking Interns, though you’re the only one that has approached me this year. Usually I just take the ones that haven’t managed to find a different Agency to take them.”
“You– you really don’t mind taking me?” Izuku breathed, releasing a bit of the anxiety that had been giving him a stomachache for days now. “You don’t– you don’t want to know why I’m not choosing a bigger agency?”
Aizawa lifted a brow.
“Do you want to tell me why you’re not choosing a bigger agency?”
“No…?” Izuku tried, and Aizawa rolled his eye.
“Then, meet me in the Teacher’s lounge after your last class– which you’re late for– and we’ll get the paper-work sorted.” He said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
“O-okay, thank you sensei.” Izuku whispered, still a little bewildered that his request was so easily accepted. When he was at the door, about to leave, Aizawa’s voice rang out,
“And Midoriya?”
He turned, finding Aizawa staring at him with the same intense expression that had him rooted to the spot for the past three years. He inhaled, waiting for the next words–
“I won’t take it easy on you, so if you’re coming to me for an easy pass, then choose someone else.”
Exhale.
Izuku smiled at him, relief turning his smile soft and Aizawa frowned deeper at the sight of it.
“I expected no less from you, Sensei.”
❋
Toshinori sat in the corner watching them with a confused look on his face that would have been charming if it weren’t for the fact that he had asked several times now if Izuku was absolutely sure he wanted this.
“Yes, I’m sure, Toshinori,” Izuku assured him again, just a few minutes ago while he was waiting for Aizawa to emerge from his office with the correct paperwork. “We’ve spoken about this. I need to do this for me, I need to start my Hero career the way I want, not the way everyone expects. This is what Midoriya Izuku needs, alright? Not the Hero: Deku.”
Toshinori had eased somewhat after hearing that. He, of all people, understood the separation that happened once you became a hero that the whole world knew and looked up to. He could understand the desire to do something for the person that would soon become a symbol– that already was a symbol, in his own right.
Izuku needed this. He needed this quiet atmosphere and the continued strength of the teacher who knew him best.
“These are the papers,” Aizawa returned, holding a short stack of papers, and slumped into his chair in front of Izuku. “It’s fairly simple, just sign wherever it tells you to and that’s that. I already added my signatures.”
Izuku smiled shyly and accepted the papers and settled into the comfortable chair to read through them and add his signatures.
It was all standard, exactly what they’d been taught to expect during the many lessons they had to go through in preparation of this final event of their schooling, however on the second last page–
“Paid?” He blurted, and Aizawa looked up. Others looked up too, but only Yamada laughed and said, warmly,
“We agreed, when we started the agency, that when we took on interns they’d be paid,” he explained. “During our internships we went through so much and none of it was paid, that was really hard on us so we promised to be different.”
Izuku felt his heart soften.
“That’s very kind of you.” He said, and Yamada shot him a thumbs up. Aizawa just hummed and returned to his own work.
With the compensation he’d received from the HPSC, especially after Hawks took over, he didn’t really need to be paid but he wasn’t about to fight them on it. Getting paid would have to be something he would need to get used to as a Pro Hero either way.
Signing the papers didn’t take him long at all. He laughed at Yamada’s quip to not get used to that, as he would soon be wishing never to see papers again.
It was late afternoon by the time he finished, and after stretching his legs out from beneath him, he placed the stack of papers down on Aizawa’s desk, watching as he flipped through them before nodding and stamping it immediately with a bright red “Approved” stamp.
“We’ll see you bright and early Monday morning, then, Midoriya!” Yamada cheered. “Eh, I mean, Shota will. I’ll probably be in and out a little.”
“I look forward to it a lot, sensei,” he smiled at his English teacher. “Please take care of me!”
“You betcha, listener!” Yamada snapped finger guns at him, making him snort at the cringy motion. Aizawa just rolled his eyes.
Izuku waved goodbye to Toshinori and was about to leave, but a niggling question remained and had him pausing in the doorway. He gathered his courage, pausing at the door and looking back at them,
“Oh, sensei,” Aizawa looked up, “I did a lot of research but I couldn’t figure this out– what is your Agency’s name, anyway?”
Aizawa lowered the papers he was holding, staring at Izuku in the way that constantly had him rooted to the spot.
“It’s called Kumo Agency.” He said calmly. Izuku couldn’t help but think he sounded almost sad. Behind him, Yamada gave a small smile.
“Kumo Agency. Okay, thanks for telling me!” Izuku said, smiling widely– this smile didn’t hurt at all, it didn’t rip at the seams, it was wide and genuine and meant to comfort someone important to him.
It seemed to render Aizawa almost speechless, though. Izuku left him there like that, staring after him and a part of him wondered if he continued staring even after Izuku was gone.
❋
On Monday morning, Izuku stood in his bedroom and stared around, making absolutely sure that he had everything.
He could hear his mother puttering about in the kitchen and smiled to himself. This would be the last time they really lived together and though a part of his heart ached at the thought, he also knew that it was for her own safety that it happened this way.
After the War, when the dormitories became optional instead of mandatory, Izuku had been the first of his class to move back home. It was only with Toshinori’s help that their home became safe enough for him to stay in after the overwhelming publicity Izuku had received upon being announced as All Might’s successor.
Now, with his graduation and official debut pending, it wouldn’t be safe for him to live with his mother. No, Toshinori had already organized an extremely fancy apartment in one of those ridiculously protected high-rises where a bunch of heroes, including himself– and several of his UA teachers, apparently– stayed.
Not that he would be staying there for very long, all things considered. Why Toshinori insisted on the apartment was anyone's guess, but nevertheless Izuku's schedule after graduation wasn't exactly built for steady living.
He shook his head gently, pushing the thoughts away. He'd become very good at pushing aside everything he didn't want to think about and even though he knew he'd have to face it eventually, it was easier to just sigh and shake his head and move past it.
His bags were packed, and the rest would be taken directly to his new apartment where he would be living after his time with Kumo Agency was over and he officially graduated from UA with a full hero license.
“Izuku, breakfast is ready!”
He had told her more than once that it wasn’t necessary to cook for him, since he had to hurry to the station and get to the address Aizawa had given him, but he didn’t have the heart to turn down her meal despite it all. This was the last time for a long while that she would cook for him.
The meal was, as expected, delicious, but he couldn’t quite stem his tears even after all these years. He sat with his mother, and both of them laughed through their teary eyes– laughing at the familiarity of their Midoriya tears.
“You go and be the amazing hero I know you are, okay sweetheart?” She whispered against his cheek and it felt like a blessing. He kissed her forehead and said nothing. Nothing he could say would be able to sum up the gratitude and sorrow he had for her.
When he was younger, he had romanticized the life he would one day live as a hero.
As late as his first year at UA, he had still had an image in his head of how it would be– the satisfaction of saving someone, the popularity, the things he would experience and the places he would go.
At the time, he didn’t spare a thought for the things he would leave behind.
His mother stood at the edge of the door to their home, and watched him walk all the way to the dingy elevator that he had taken a million times during his childhood. At the door to it, Izuku stared back, smiling at her the whole time, as the elevator doors shut between them.
The second he was alone, he allowed his smile to fall and the tears to run slick down his cheeks. He wiped at them aggressively, unwilling to show up in front of Aizawa for his first day with tears staining his cheeks.
Fortunately he had a train-ride ahead of him but it wasn’t very far at all. Actually, Izuku could have easily walked the distance but he wanted to take the train one last time, riding this same route he’d ridden for years, before he would likely never take it again.
On the train, he sat towards the back with a baseball hat sitting low over his brow, and he kept his head down. He’d learned from experience that the second one person recognized him, the whole train would clammer up to him and ask him question after question, demanding an autograph or a picture as if he were some celebrity and not a person– a student who was just trying to get to school.
Izuku’s face had become well-acquainted with medical masks and sunglasses.
The address Aizawa had given him led to a place not far from UA. He stood in front of the derelict building and blinked at it a few times, trying to reconcile the place with what he’d seen of other Hero Agencies.
Someone came to a stop beside him and Izuku worked hard not to flinch, noting that Danger Sense had not alerted him to danger.
“Yes, this is the right place,” Aizawa said amusedly, and Izuku relaxed, sending his teacher a smile, “It’s not much.”
“I’m sure it’s excellent.”
Aizawa gave a dubious tilt of his head and gestured for Izuku to go inside. He reached down to take Izuku’s suitcase before he could and just huffed when Izuku tried to protest.
If Izuku was expecting anything from the inside, he made sure to keep it to himself and kept his expression neutral.
The inside of Kumo Agency was… understated. There was a receptionist at the front desk, but she seemed utterly uninterested in them and was buried beneath a stack of papers almost as tall as her.
“That’s Yume,” Aizawa introduced the girl, who barely looked up and just sent them a vague wave before continuing with her work, “She’s studying for a doctorate in Quirk Sciences, so she’s been this way for weeks now that her exams are coming up.”
And yeah, that made sense. Quirk Sciences were one of the largest and hardest fields to break into, so he genuinely wished her luck.
“Good luck, Yume-san,” he whispered, as they passed, and she looked up long enough to flash him a small smile before abruptly seeming to realize exactly who he was. Her eyes bulged and she started coughing in that way that signaled that she might yell, so he hurried faster to catch up to Aizawa.
They took an elevator upstairs in comfortable silence and Izuku told himself not to expect too much and it was for the best because the second level was equally as unimpressive as the first, though this one at least had the addition of offices and some truly exhausted looking Underground Heroes slugging around.
“As you can see, we’re a very humble company,” Aizawa said dryly. “It’s usually here where the students we take decide to use the one chance they get to change their minds so if you want to, you can do that too.”
“You must think really little of me, sensei,” Izuku complained. “I’m not someone who goes back on my word if I can help it. I’ve chosen you, so no matter what I’ll stick with you.”
Aizawa coughed and just made a noncommittal noise.
He was shown the offices and introduced a few other heroes around them, some of whom Izuku had never heard of. He was shown where all the bathrooms were, and the conference rooms, and once he was led to the third and last level, he was shown where Aizawa’s office was placed next to Present Mic’s, and the training rooms.
Izuku’s eyes, however, caught onto the memorial shrine sitting proudly between the two offices. There was a photograph sitting proudly in a dark wood temple, with several lit candles around it and a copper bowl with incense in it.
The boy in the picture couldn’t have been much older than Izuku was now. He had soft blue hair and a wide smile that made his eyes sparkle.
Izuku didn’t know who he was but he paused in front of it and crouched down to the floor in a respectful bow. He placed his palms together and closed his eyes, sending a general prayer of peace towards someone who was obviously important to his teacher.
Behind him, Aizawa gasped softly.
Izuku stood up and sent Aizawa a small smile.
“I’m not sure what his name was, but I’m sure he meant a lot to you and Mic-sensei. I’m very glad to meet him, regardless.” Izuku told him softly and Aizawa’s eye turned away from the blue haired boy’s photograph and towards Izuku instead. After a long minute where Izuku worried that he had overstepped, somehow, Aizawa said,
“... his name was Shirakumo Oboro. He was supposed to open this company with us but he died before he could.”
Izuku thought that was all Aizawa was going to say and he left it at that as they slowly made their way to the training room, but after a while, seeming almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud,
“He would have liked you.”
“I’m honored,” Izuku told him, “I have no doubt that someone that important to you would have been an incredible person.”
Aizawa really did say nothing more then. They entered the training room and he pointed out a few things for him.
“Most of your active hero work is going to be in the evenings so you’ll have mornings free for yourself, usually it wouldn’t be like that– especially for you, since you’re planning on Limelight heroics– but since we function 85% underground, our patrol times are during the night,” He explained as he led him away from the training room and over to a desk that had obviously been added to Aizawa’s office, “During the day you might find yourself helping Daiki-san with research, or if you’re involved in a case– which you probably will be– then you’ll be doing paperwork or some undercover work, depending on the situation.”
“That’s perfectly fine by me,” Izuku assured him. “I’ve been operating on a sleep schedule that isn’t that different from what you described for a while now.”
Aizawa was rifling through some papers on his desk and gathering them up but he paused at Izuku’s statement and looked up.
“Trouble sleeping?”
Izuku just shrugged and turned to look out the window instead. The view was somewhat dismal but there was some charm in overlooking the darker areas of Musutafu and a part of him wondered if the building had been chosen for that reason, considering that this area was where Eraserhead frequently trawled.
“We don’t currently have rooms here at the Agency but it’s mandatory that the third year interns stay with their mentors the whole time,” Aizawa sounded weirdly awkward now. “Usually the interns we employ choose to stay with Hizashi but, unfortunately for you, he’s busy with a case right now and can’t host you, so you’ll be staying with me for the next month.”
Izuku hummed, biting his lower lip unsurely.
“I don’t mind that at all, sensei. I would tell you I don’t mind staying at my apartment either, but I figure you probably want to go by the book here, huh?”
Aizawa snorted.
“I do. The last thing I need is getting accused of not treating you properly.” He joked and Izuku couldn’t help the way his smile tightened slightly. If Aizawa noticed it, Izuku didn’t give him enough time to even mention it as he launched into a quiet chatter about the various heroes employed under Kumo Agency.
As discussed, there wasn’t much to do at the agency during the day so Aizawa suggested they head back to his apartment so that Izuku could get settled there before going on patrol with him that evening.
For the most part the drive there was quiet, and Izuku spent the majority of it replying to a few messages from his overexcited friends as they all met with their final hero mentors who would soon, hopefully, approve them to be field heroes.
“Katsuki is really regretting going with Jeanist,” Izuku mentioned with a small grin, after checking Bakugou’s bemoaning messages. “Apparently his hair has already been redone and Jeanist is trying to convince him to add denim to his suit.”
Aizawa snorted.
“I’ve thought this for a while now, but I’m pretty sure Jeanist just likes harping on people,” Aizawa joked and Izuku laughed freely, sending the comment straight to Bakugou, who replied with an emphatic– you’re only figuring this out now??
It was only as they were pulling into a clean, well-managed parking lot that Izuku realized exactly where they were.
“Oh,” he blurted softly, “Sensei lives here too?”
“Most of the UA staff live here, the building is owned by Nezu,” Aizawa said logically and that actually made sense, now that Izuku thought about it. When Toshinori had presented him with the keycard to his own apartment and told him it was in a safe place, he hadn’t thought much about it.
A few years ago a present like that from Toshinori would have had him obsessively researching every last shred of information and he would have probably gone crazy to be in the apartment bought for him by All Might, but now he had just hugged Toshinori tightly and accepted the gift with a calm smile, humming and nodding along when Toshinori showed him pictures of the building.
He hated it, though. He couldn’t help but resent the apartment and the very thought of it, because while he was being safely kept in a high-rise, his classmates were pairing up and eagerly getting their first apartments, becoming roommates who would never be alone. Even Bakugou was getting an apartment with Kirishima, Kaminari with Sero, while Ashido, Hagakure and Uraraka would all pool together for their apartment.
They would always have company. They would have someone to come home to and have someone to talk to who would understand them no matter what. Meanwhile, Izuku would be alone for weeks in an apartment that was definitely too big for him. Sure, his friends would visit, and Toshinori was only a few floors down from him, but it wasn’t the same.
“Is there a problem with this building?” Aizawa asked and Izuku realized he had been frowning the entire time into the lobby and all the way into the elevator too. He flushed.
“No, sorry, uh… I just wasn’t sure if you knew or not. Toshinori, he bought me an apartment in this building too.” He mentioned, covering up his emotions again, with a neutral mask. “This is where I’ll be moving once my internship with you is done.”
“I didn’t know, I mean, I knew Yagi had bought you an apartment– he was going on about it for weeks– but he never mentioned where it was,” Aizawa said casually, “It’s a good building. Good security for heroes.”
“It would have to be, to be owned by Nezu.” Izuku said with a shrug.
The elevator came to a resounding stop on the twenty-eighth floor, which was just two levels down from the highest level where Izuku was pretty sure Nezu lived. He pressed his lips together firmly, wondering if he should dare to mention the thoughts racing through his mind.
It became glaringly obvious that he should, in fact, mention it, when Aizawa came to a stop at one of the doors at the furthest end of the hallway. There was a little gold plaque on the door that had the initials “A.S” on them and a quick peek sideways, yes–
“Sensei,” he blurted, mortified. “Even if I stayed in my own apartment, you would probably get away with saying you supervised me.”
“How so?” Aizawa quirked his brow and Izuku gestured towards the next door with his chin. Two steps forward clearly showed Aizawa the new initials engraved on the gold door plaque next to his that read “M.I”.
“Huh,” Aizawa said, and then, “Go figure.”
Then he opened his apartment door and silently gestured for Izuku to go inside. Blinking a few times, Izuku obeyed, figuring that Aizawa meant for him to stay regardless of his own apartment literally being right next door.
“If you’ve been to your apartment before, then the format should be all the same. Kitchen over there, living room, the master bedroom is where I stay and the guest is right next to it,” Aizawa pointed out each of the places to him, which was a relief because Izuku had never actually visited the apartment, “Perhaps you’d like to go settle and unpack a little? I’ll get started on some lunch.”
The layout of the apartment was exactly the same as Izuku’s, but whereas Izuku’s apartment had apparently been decorated by some highly-rated professional Toshinori knew of, Aizawa’s apartment looked completely and utterly lived in.
There were photographs on the walls, and the floor beneath his feet was warm and covered with a soft wood that didn’t hurt his bare feet at all. He had a wooden table towards the left of the living room with a carpet beneath it and a teetering pile of cushions to sit on, while on the other side he had a treadmill and a few exercise equipment, as well as a truly impressive shelf of first aid.
He was startled by the brush of soft fur against his feet and smiled as he crouched down to greet a perfect white cat coming to greet him. It figured his sensei had cats. From his crouch he could see another pair of feline eyes glaring at him from under the couch and he just waved at them with a grin.
The kitchen seemed well-used, and Izuku couldn’t help but smile at the messy coffee station that was clearly the most frequented place in the home.
For all that it was only a guest bedroom, it was neat and clean, with a comfortable bed in the center of the room. On the desk, there were a few pictures and papers, and Izuku smiled at the sight of his teachers back when they were his age. Again, he noted Shirakumo Oboro between them.
Aizawa’s apartment was humble and well-lived, and Izuku absolutely adored it.
He put down his suitcase and unpacked a few things, but for the most part he just sat on the bed and stared around in quiet appreciation.
This place… he imagined no one could be lonely there. Not when he could hear Aizawa softly talking to his cats, and the low sizzle of meat grilling, the bubble of soup boiling and the ambient noise of the city outside.
“Midoriya?” Aizawa called, “Lunch is ready.”
Izuku got up to leave the guest bedroom, sure to keep a pleasant smile on his face and praying that when he left his melancholy behind, it wouldn’t taint this beautiful place.
He prayed it wouldn’t taint Aizawa, either.
“Coming, sensei!”
❋
Izuku contained his small wince as Hanzo’s back hit the floor again.
Toshinori had told him several times that he had to stop looking so guilty whenever he defeated his opponent, but even still, Izuku couldn’t stop the habit entirely though he tried to contain it.
“Fucking hell!” Hanzo cried, not getting up from the mat. “This is the fifth time in a row now! I thought getting interns in was supposed to be fun and a boost to our egos but this is just–”
“Humbling?” Mitsuha snickered. Izuku blushed. “Maybe Eraser shouldn’t have brought in fucking Deku himself to beat us all up!”
Comments like those were somewhat easier to bear when he didn’t know the person that well, Izuku had found the following day while training with a few of the Unders working at Kumo Agency. Aizawa had some work to do at UA so he dropped Izuku off at the agency for the morning to do some training and get briefed on the cases he was being allowed to join.
“Sorry about that, Hanzo-san,” Izuku held his hand out to help the hero up. He immediately pouted, rubbing his shoulder.
“I swear you were using your quirk,” he accused, “I cannot imagine that kind of strength is anything but a quirk!”
“I’m really not,” he promised, considering whether or not he should mention that his quirk made lightning when he used it, “You can ask Eraserhead, I’m pretty decent at quirkless fighting.”
He didn’t mean for it to sound so sardonic but fortunately, before anyone could pick up on his tone, Aizawa himself interjected,
“Don’t let him be too demure, he’s first in his class when it comes to quirkless fighting, among other things.”
Izuku turned around, smiling shyly. Aizawa was standing in the doorway, removing his capture weapon and hanging it on a hook.
“Sensei, don’t be biased– Ochako has come a long way, and Katsuki is an incredible fighter too.” He wasn’t even lying, the two of them were absolute beasts when it came to tousling and they often practiced with him, it was just–
“And when is the last time they beat you in a fight?” Aizawa asked dryly.
Izuku had nothing to reply to that and there was a stifled snicker from Mitsuha, who clapped him on the back and proudly proclaimed,
“No wonder you’re set to be the next number one, kid! No one can beat you!”
Izuku gritted his teeth so hard that his jaw made a clicking noise.
“That’s not strictly true,” He replied, and if his tone wasn’t as pleasant as before he was confident that his words covered it up, because they all blinked at him curiously, “Aizawa-sensei can still beat me.”
The room was silent.
“... before, right?” Mitsuha asked bravely and Izuku– Izuku who was quite possibly the only person in the world, or perhaps, modestly, in this small room– seemed to be the only one to notice the annoyed flicker in Aizawa’s eye.
He smiled thinly.
“And after,” he said simply, “Sensei is perfectly capable of beating me to the floor with or without his quirk.”
“I’m pretty sure they meant my leg,” Aizawa pointed out, keeping his tone light and Izuku outright laughed, his eyes briefly dipping down to Aizawa’s silver foot peeking out from under his pants.
“I’m certain you could beat me even if we bound up your other leg, sensei, you’re just that good.” Izuku bragged and Aizawa sent him a quelling look.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Midoriya.”
“Will it get you onto this mat with me, sensei?” He let his smile pull up at the side, and, wanting to punish the two Unders for their careless commentary– “I need a challenge.”
Hanzo squawked, stomping off the mat and licking his wounds beside a giggling Mitsuha. Aizawa stared at him for a moment before obligingly stepping on the mat and beginning to stretch. Even though Izuku was already warmed up, he followed Aizawa’s familiar stretching so that they were at the same starting pace.
“Eraser, I swear, there’s no way he’s not using a quirk– it’s impossible to be that fast otherwise!” Hanzo said mulishly, his tone suggesting that he was trying to offer sincere advice, but his annoyance was all too obvious.
“Your jealousy is unbecoming, Suzuki,” Aizawa said, as he pulled himself up from his stretch. He met Izuku’s eyes briefly. “You’re accusing Midoriya of being a liar and a cheat– are you sure you want to continue in that vein in front of the man who trained him?”
Hanzo went pale and then a terrible puce color. Mitsuha stifled her snort of laughter and sympathetically patted Hanzo’s shoulder.
“I don’t know who to root for here, but I believe in both of you so beat each other’s asses!” She said excitedly, shaking her fists in her enthusiasm.
“Shall we show them how it’s done, mh?” Aizawa asked him in a low voice. Izuku swallowed.
It had been several weeks since his last quirkless fight with Aizawa, but the last time, like every other time, he had been pulverized to the floor– left staring up at Aizawa’s chest as he breathed deeply, his sweat soaking through his shirt and his dark eyes pinning Izuku to the floor.
Feeling almost like it was second nature, Izuku allowed his body to slip into a fighting stance, spreading his feet apart and facing Aizawa as the man easily mimicked his position.
“Ready?” Aizawa said and Izuku didn’t dare speak, lest he break his focus. Aizawa took his silence for what it was and gave him no further warning before he slammed his foot forward and immediately started the dance.
Izuku was immediately on the defensive whereas he usually went offensive with his opponents. Somehow Aizawa always managed to get him to retreat backwards but rarely ever gave him the space or time to do so.
He was just so fast. Logically, if Izuku was being impartial, his speed had lowered ever so slightly since the loss of his leg but that amount was so negligible when faced with him in a fight that Izuku sometimes forgot it was even gone.
He stepped backwards, teetering too close to the edge of the mat and managed to grip Aizawa in a headlock for only a few seconds before Aizawa was once again slamming him to the ground. Aizawa spoke softly, right against the shell of his ear and Izuku shivered,
“You’re trying too hard to win.”
Aizawa didn’t give him a second to gather his wits and reply before he was back on his feet, his silver foot barely an inch from Izuku’s mouth and then he felt a blunt pain from his side as Aizawa attacked.
“Sloppy.” Aizawa insulted and Izuku rolled over, standing up and scowling at his teacher as he scrambled to find a way to beat him. There were probably a thousand ways Izuku could beat him if he fought dirty– if he kicked out and targeted Aizawa’s weak spots, his silver leg, his left side, the arm he wasn’t favoring– but there was a chasmic gap between what he could do and what he was willing to do.
When Izuku attacked, they twirled around each other, each of their muscles straining as they tried to get an inch over each other. Izuku could feel the huff of Aizawa’s breath against his cheeks.
“Thought I trained you better than this,” He said gruffly and Izuku released an incredulous huff, using all of his human power to shove Aizawa backwards and he had to take several steps back, narrowly missing the mat.
“You’re pissing me off now.” Izuku told him, and Aizawa had the audacity to snort at him before charging forward and deliberately leaning to Izuku’s right side before swerving and tackling him on his left and forcing him face-down on the mat.
“Yeah?” he panted, now that Izuku was on the ground again, he twisted Izuku’s arm painfully, forcing a pained noise to fill the air, “Not enough to make you win, apparently.”
Izuku laughed breathlessly.
“Sensei, you’re really pissing me off,” he whined, smacking his fist against the mat petulantly before swinging his legs up and capturing Aizawa’s shoulders. He dragged Aizawa downwards, relishing in the surprised noise his sensei made.
It was a bit of a mad scramble to get the upper-hand then. Izuku could just feel skin, and sweat, and even his vision blurred a little as they fought– more like wrestled– on the mat. He shouted, face squashed against the mat with Aizawa’s knee against his cheek and his arms twisted behind his back, held in one of his hands while the other tightly gripped his hair.
“Not enough,” Aizawa said, and even though he was breathless too, and though they’d both fought just as hard, Izuku marveled at how put together he still sounded.
Honestly, he was grateful that he was face down on the mat, because he was a little hard in his sweatpants.
It wasn’t abnormal– Izuku usually felt keyed up after a good sparring session but it had been ages since he’d last sparred like this– felt that rush of endorphins, of dopamine and adrenaline coursing through his veins.
The pressure on his face eased and Aizawa stood up, holding a hand out to him to lift him. He took it with a second thought, letting Aizawa haul his heavy frame up without looking like he was straining at all.
“You’ve gotten better, much better,” Aizawa admitted, “But you still have that problem.”
Izuku sent him a rueful look, accepting the towel Aizawa threw at his face.
“I’m working on it,” he lied, and Aizawa just rolled his eyes, as if he could tell in an instant that Izuku was lying.
He realized, embarrassingly, that the training room was completely silent and that they had gained a larger audience.
The walls were glass, and several heroes were lined up against the walls, watching with astounded expressions. Inside, Hanzo’s jaw was slack and Mitsuha was staring at Aizawa with an almost tearful expression.
“How– how the fu–” Hanzo didn’t even get the words fully out before Mitsuha smacked his back hard enough for him to spit.
“You’ve said enough today, Hanzo!” She scolded, then looked at Aizawa again, her eyes bright, “Eraser, I’m so sorry for ever doubting you!”
Izuku could kind of tell– somewhere in between Aizawa’s humble shrug, and Mitsuha’s teary eyes– that she wasn’t just apologizing for thinking Izuku would win their spar.
“Let’s hit the showers, we–” Aizawa was cut off by Hanzo,
“Wait! I want to go again!” He yelled, standing up and coming over to Izuku on the mat, “You went all out with him, didn’t you? Well, I was holding back too, I mean, how could I be the shameless guy hurting the next number on–!”
Izuku didn’t give him the chance to breathe his last words before his fist jutted out, hitting him in the solar plexus and immediately sending him sprawling to the floor. Hanzo gasped for breath, clutching his ribs.
Izuku was about to apologize, mortified at having hit him so abruptly, but he was frozen still to the ground by the sound of Aizawa’s laugh, and frozen still more at the sight of him smiling like that.
“That’s more like it!” He praised, grinning evilly down at Hanzo. “I hope you’ve learned a lesson here, Suzuki-san. This is the student I trained for three years, it would be an embarrassment if he didn’t win over you a few times.”
Hanzo just released a pained groan from the ground.
Aizawa patted his back, lightly guiding him–
“Let’s hit the shower.”
It was a wonder no one had looked down during the short fight with Hanzo. Izuku walked a little stiffly to the showers, trailing behind Aizawa slightly so that he was less noticeable.
The trick, Izuku had learned over his years, was to pretend that he wasn’t half-hard in his pants and because he was ignoring it, others would overlook it. Either way, no one mentioned it so Izuku felt like he was in the clear.
Hanzo didn’t join them in the showers and Izuku was only a little horrified to realize that it was only him and Aizawa there. It was hardly the first time Izuku had happened to see his sensei naked– it was hard to avoid when you spent three years sparring, fighting, and working alongside each other. Late night training during the years had them all clambering for the showers, too tired and lazy to wait to get back to the dorms and Aizawa was no different, though it had been a while since then.
Izuku hadn’t had much chance to see even a glimpse of him since the end of the war. Mostly because he was busy training with Toshinori, or because he usually hurried back to the dorms instead of showering with his classmates.
The effect was that, upon seeing Aizawa slipping out of his sweaty shirt, Izuku could no longer classify himself as half hard. He turned away, stripping out of his own clothes and stiffly opened the taps for water to pour over his head and hopefully wash away the arousal flooding through his body.
“You did well,” Aizawa spoke up over the din of their showers going and Izuku silently cursed, feeling his dick twitch despite his desperation to ignore it.
“Th-thanks…”
“When you’re done here, we can head back home for the day,” Aizawa added a moment later, “We can patrol together tonight.”
“Works for me, sensei,” he said, his brow furrowed as he dragged his soap all over his body, conspicuously avoiding his dick as it grew harder. So maybe ignoring it wasn’t helping as much as he was hoping it would.
“You good?” Aizawa questioned and Izuku pressed his flushed face against the warm tile, breathing deeply.
“I’m good, just tired.” He promised. He reached down, squeezing himself tightly to stop whatever his body was deciding to do but that just made his entire body break out in gooseflesh and his knees went a little weak.
He stood like that the entire time Aizawa was showering. He only moved when Aizawa called out to tell him he would be in his office whenever Izuku was finished.
With the bathroom silent and only his own shower going, Izuku’s fist dragged up all the way to his tip and his knees buckled, making him smack against the tiles painfully– but not as painful as his dick was right now. He couldn’t stop himself from touching just like he couldn’t stop his mind from racing with too many Thoughts.
Izuku had gone through a phase or two, when he was younger, of fantasizing about Heroes– he was pretty sure most kids did– but for the most part he had grown out of it upon actually meeting those heroes.
He had never grown out of the explicit dreams he’d had on-and-off since meeting Eraserhead. It was something he’d been able to ignore, for the most part, during his first year and during his second he had been somewhat distracted by a war breaking out, but in his third year… well.
He pumped himself hard and fast. He didn’t have time for leisurely touching himself and imagining Aizawa’s arms curving around his body, the way he would feel if it were his hand gripping Izuku so tightly–!
“Ng,” the cut-off, muted moan slipped from his lips as he got closer and closer to his release. Hard and fast.
Hard and fast.
It was like a mantra running in his head. He couldn’t even imagine anything for a split second or even think as he came, letting the evidence of his debauchery swirl away with the shower water while he caught his breath.
His knees were on the ground and when he finally had the strength to pull himself up, his legs trembled with his full weight. Because he had to rush so much he didn’t feel particularly sated, if anything the haste of it all combined with the churning power of One For All that felt like a constant buzz of electricity under his skin just made him feel even more keyed up.
At least he could change into his jeans and tuck himself so that it would be less noticeable until he was safely back at Aizawa’s apartment and could hide properly in his room while Aizawa slept.
As he promised, Aizawa was waiting for him in his office, sorting through a bunch of assignments from one of his classes. He looked up when Izuku entered, lowering one of the papers.
“Finished?” and at Izuku’s nod, “Great, we can go home then. I’ve had enough of everyone here clambering over themselves to impress you.”
Izuku laughed at that but said nothing.
Later, when they toed off their shoes at the front door of Aizawa’s apartment, Izuku immediately crouched down to greet the cats while Aizawa ambled over to the kitchen to put the coffee on.
“Didn’t you say you were going to nap before our patrol?” Izuku pointed out and there was a moment of silence before the kettle stopped and Aizawa grouched,
“Don’t be a nag…”
Izuku laughed loudly, picking up one of the cats and settling on the couch with them cradled against his chest. The other cat, one of the sociable ones– he was still astounded that none of Aizawa’s cats had actual names and he just called all of them “cat”– came to curl up behind his neck like a scarf.
This life… it’s not yours, Izuku, he rubbed the cat’s cowlick back a little but it popped right up and he smiled. But you may as well enjoy it while it lasts.
Aizawa popped his head in from the kitchen,
“I’m thinking of ordering food before patrol later, that work for you?”
Izuku tilted his head against the cat’s soft fur, smiling at him.
“That’s perfect, sensei.”
Aizawa looked momentarily awkward, staring at him with a strange look on his face as he noticed how comfortable Izuku was sitting with the cats.
“You’re graduating in a month, Midoriya. You can call me Shota now.”
Izuku blinked and he must have looked surprised because Aizawa coughed and turned back into the kitchen, ignoring his earlier reprimand and turning the kettle on again.
“I was going to tell the class to call me that once they graduated,” he defended, “it’s just a little earlier for you, since we’re working together now.”
Izuku sat still on the couch. The kettle stopped and Izuku could hear Aizawa making coffee and he could smell it in the air as well.
“Shota,” he whispered under his breath, testing the name on his tongue. “Shota. Shota.”
He took a deep breath.
“Call me Izuku then… Shota.”