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All Might- no, Yagi, that’s what he’s asked his peers to call him now- isn’t aware of Aizawa watching from the corner of a nearby building’s rooftop. The teacher crouches on the edge just short of the gutter, his arms resting on his knees as he monitors the dusty bowl of the training ground below. Class 1-A is halfway through their Foundational Hero Studies period, and the lesson has been messy, much as Aizawa expected. It used to be that the Erasure hero would use his free periods to prep lessons and grade the week’s Hero theory papers, but he’s taken to spectating Yagi’s practical lessons instead, not at all confident in the man’s ability to manage the more advanced classes 1-A is leveling up to. He’s come to respect the man as a friend and as a hero, after all he’s seen and all they’ve been through together, but respect as a teacher is coming along much slower. He’s certainly improved since he first started here, Aizawa will admit. The training field is full of sweating students with wide eyes and heaving chests. But ‘better than when you started’ isn’t much when you start at rock bottom. At the beginning of the class, Yagi announced that they were going to pair up and work combat training in a very specific scenario. “What do you do when you’re faced up with an opponent whose Quirk you’re not suited to fight?” he asked the class, who stood before him in a loose gaggle looking like baffled sheep. Midorya’s, Iida’s, and Yaoyarozu’s hands shot in the air. A few other hands tentatively followed. The retired hero had looked around slightly overwhelmed. After an awkward pause, he pointed and called on Yaoyarozu. The tall girl answered loud and clear, “You flee the scene and find someone who’s equipped to deal with the situation, sir.” “No, I mean, what do you do if you can’t get away?” he prompted. The students all looked at each other in bewilderment. Eventually Yaoyarozu wondered, “I… I don’t understand, sir. What do you mean, are we not supposed to run?” The retired hero heaved an irritated sigh and bonked himself on the forehead with his clipboard. His foot tapped an agitated tattoo in the sun-baked dirt of the outdoor training grounds. “Obviously I’m not explaining myself well,” he said. “Okay everyone, let’s back up a bit. Yes, if you realize you’re not suited for a fight, you should absolutely try to flee, or call for backup. That should always be your first course of action in that scenario. But what if you’re trapped in that fight and you can’t get away? What if you’re backed into a corner and your only choice is to fight your way out?” “Well most of us are fast enough to slip away, sir. And some of us can use our powers to fly,” pointed out Todoroki. “Let’s pretend for the purpose of the exercise that you can’t do either of those things.” “Why wouldn’t we be able to, though?” growled Bakugo, crossing his arms defensively. Yagi looked fit to keel over with sheer exasperation, and Aizawa felt nearly the same. How dense could this man possibly get? It wasn't that hard a concept to explain! Yagi paused for a moment, tapping the clipboard against his chest absentmindedly and looking around at the students as if they would be able to tell him how to explain it right. Then he made eye contact with Midorya, and his face suddenly cleared, as if a look at his favorite student reminded him of something. His voice was grave and quiet when he spoke again, which made it all the more striking. “Imagine this, students,” he began, with all the slow solemnness of a pealing bell. “A fight breaks out against multiple enemies in an urban area. There’s civilians everywhere, it’s chaos. There’s a few first-responding heroes, but not enough, and though help is on the way it’ll take time to reach you over all the rubble. You find yourself escorting a group of injured civilians- including a number of young children- out of the danger zone. While you’re getting them to safety, one of the enemies blocks your path. The enemy is strong and has the opposite Quirk as you. They’ve isolated you from most of your fellow heroes in a dangerous area. You realize instantly that you’re not suited to this fight, but you can’t just escape and leave the civilians behind. The injured and the children can’t move fast enough to get away. There are too many of them to get to safety on your own, and you know for a fact that even if you call for backup, it will be a long time in coming. You have no choice but to face the enemy. So then. What do you do?” The students looked at each other in faint bewilderment, their eyes wide. Only Midorya’s hand was up. Yagi rolled his eyes and said, “Someone other than Midorya answer this.” Then he looked at his protégé and winked to soften the words. The boy just smiled back warmly. The teacher was obviously thinking about what happened at the training camp, when Midorya nearly died trying to save the boy Kota. That was what triggered his epiphany. But it’s also obvious that the veteran hero was speaking from experience when he described that scenario. It’s not a common one, but in all his years, perhaps the great and powerful All Might did end up backed into a corner once upon a time. Aizawa couldn't recall any specific incident from All Might’s career, but for him to describe it with such raw accuracy, it must have happened at least once. Slowly, Todoroki’s hand pushed upward from the crowd. Yagi was obviously trying not to look relieved when he pointed to Todoroki. The young man cleared his throat and then replied, “Umm… you get creative, sir?” “Yes!” exclaimed the veteran hero, startling the students with his loud and enthusiastic reply. “Finally! Yes, that’s exactly right, my boy! You get creative, you think up alternative solutions, you fight dirty if you have to! Your first priority is protecting those civilians, and to do it you have to either win that fight or drag it out long enough for backup to reach you. Sometimes all you can do is think outside the box and hope your craziest idea is the one that works. Does that make sense to everybody?” Nods all around. The smile returned to Yagi’s face, and with its arrival the tension melted away. “Good,” he stated, clicking his pen and turning his eyes down to his clipboard. “I’ve paired you up according to whose Quirks I think are least suited to each other. For today’s lessons, you’ll be fighting each other and employing creative solutions to win. Please keep it restrained to some degree- I don’t want any visits to Recovery Girl today- but don’t be afraid to fight dirty. Protect those civilians!” Iida’s hand inevitably appeared above the heads of the others. “Yes, young Iida?” “Who is playing the villain and who is playing the hero in this exercise?” Aizawa leaned forward expectantly, waiting for Yagi to get stumped. But to his surprise, the retired hero appeared to have thought of that already. He waved a dismissive hand. “We’re all heroes in this ring, aren’t we?” he said jovially. “Everyone imagine yourself as the hero and your opponent as the villain. I want each and every one of you to give it your all, and you’re less likely to do that if you’re playing devil’s advocate. In the end you all have the same goal. Either incapacitate your opponent, or stay on your feet until I call the end of the bout. Is that clear?” “Yes sir!” the students chorused, with a little energy now. They appeared to be warming themselves up to the idea, getting excited about the challenge before them. “Wonderful! I love the enthusiasm!” smiled Yagi. “Now listen up for who your partner is. Hagakure, you’re with Shoji. Aoyama is up against Ojiro. Asui is with Kaminari, Ashido with Mineta, Jiro with Koda, Uraraka with Tokoyami-” Aizawa considered the other teacher’s choices as he rattled off the rest of the pairings. He was skeptical about some. Midorya and Iida? That didn’t seem to make sense. Nor did the combination of Sato and Kirishima, or Todoroki and Bakugo. He didn’t understand how they were supposed to be challenging to each other. And besides, Todoroki and Bakugo already fought before in the sports festival. It didn’t make sense to pair them again. Sure enough, as the exercise progressed and the students struggled and heaved against each other over the hot, dusty training field, Yagi ended up halting some matches and switching partners when he realized he’d made the wrong choice. At least he sorted it out in the end, albiet belatedly. He made a few switches, including Kirishima and Todoroki, pairing Kirishima’s near-impervious defensive hardening with Bakugo’s explosive offensive. Sato plus Todoroki was a good way to stretch both Todoroki’s limits and his restraint, since Sato didn’t tire so long as his supply of sugar was constant. Sato, for his part, had to keep his wits about him and not rely on matching Todoroki’s brute strength. The teacher made a few more changes besides that until every student had a proper challenge before them. After the switches were made, everything ran more smoothly. While some of the aforementioned pairings soured and had to be switched exactly as Aizawa expected, others that he’d doubted worked out surprisingly well. Midorya and Iida were tiring each other out thoroughly. Both fought with their legs, and both were blindingly fast. Their fighting styles mirrored one another, meaning that they had to vary it up and try different things in order to have an effect on each other. Aizawa, who watched this all transpire from his rooftop, is now pleased so see that Yagi is finally finding his feet as a teacher. Took him long enough, he thinks. He would have gone about it differently himself, but he has to credit Yagi for pulling together such a challenging exercise. From his place at the viewing stand, the retired hero sits watching each pair in turns, making notes on his clipboard. Every once in awhile he looks up and shouts encouragement or criticism at one student or another, his voice booming over the bowl of the training field. There’s too much encouragement and not enough criticism in Aizawa’s opinion, but the comments he does make are useful. Additionally, the homeroom teacher expected Yagi to pay more attention Midorya or Bakugo or one of his other favorites, neglecting others. But he’s doing a surprisingly good job of impartiality today. In fact, he almost ignores Midorya and Iida entirely, leaving them to their own devices. Those two are already fast thinkers, and have enthusiastically applied themselves to the fight. They hype each other up well enough without outside help. Instead Yagi is focusing on the people who really need the intellectual exercise: Sato, Kaminari, Hagakure, Aoyama, and others who still need improvement in the area of innovative battlefield thinking and split-second decisions. “Come on now, I said creative solutions. Dirty tricks. Don’t rely on your Quirks! The point of this exercise is that your Quirks won’t help you here!” he calls out periodically. “Kaminari, don’t you dare let loose. You can’t go into idiot mode now! Keep your head in the game!” “Yes, sir!” “Mineta, Ashido’s eyes are up there. Keep getting distracted like that and she’ll melt your face before you can say ‘pervert.” “Sorry, sir!” “You’d better be! Bakugo my boy, blasting him over and over obviously isn’t working. It might be time to try something new, don’t you think?” Bakugo, who is having a harder time with Kirishima since the last time they fought, turns away from his to opponent glare at Yagi, panting from the exertion. “Will you shut it already, All Might?! It’s not like you’re doing any goddamn work! You’re just sitting up there relaxing!” the hot-headed blonde barks, obviously worked up over his glaring lack of progress over the past fifteen minutes. Yagi laughs and then takes a sip of his soda water. It’s true that he looks frightfully relaxed compared to his sweating, straining students. He’s wearing a shiny silver pair of sunglasses and sitting with his feet propped up on the railing of the observation platform, his necktie loosened and the sleeves of his button-down rolled up in the baking heat. “I daresay I’ve earned a break, young Bakugo. Besides, Quirks aside, I could still wipe the floor with you.” Perhaps it’s the easy nonchalance of that statement that gets to the boy. Or the fact that Yagi goes back to sipping his drink and jotting notes without a second thought to what he’s just said. But either way, Bakugo’s eye visibly twitches. The boy bares his teeth like a snarling animal. “Ha!” he barks out, derisive. “I don’t need my Quirk to beat you, old man!” “I’d beg to differ. Your basic skill levels have improved, yes, but you’ve still got a long way to go before you master the nuances of hand-to-hand. Your entire fighting style revolves around your Quirk. That’s why you can’t make any headway against young Kirishima, now that his hardening has buffed up enough to withstand you.” The whole class pauses to watch all this go down. They separate from their opponents, glancing at each other and then at Yagi with interest. Bakugo clenches his fist. “If you’ve got something to say about my fighting, you could at least say it to my face like a man!” challenges the student. Yagi’s smile never wavers, and that’s perhaps the most unsettling part. Aizawa feels a chill start to creep over his nerves as the retired hero looks at Bakugo over the rims of his sunglasses, his eyes sharp and exacting. “Are you sure you want to test me today, my boy?” “Are you sure you wanna test me, old man?” Yagi doesn’t answer. He just shrugs and sets his clipboard and sunglasses aside, still smiling pleasantly, his demeanor cool and collected. The whole class watches in fascination as the retired hero stands, rakes his messy yellow hair back into a short ponytail, secures with the elastic band he’s taken to wearing around his wrist, and then descends the steps of the observation deck with his hands in his pockets. Aizawa feels a thrill of simultaneous dread and anticipation twist in his gut as the two face off in the middle of the dusty ring. He’s not worried about Yagi, for all his apparent frailness. No, he’s worried for Bakugo. The boy takes a stance, raising his fists boxing-style. When Yagi doesn’t take his hands from his pockets, the boy prompts, “Well? You gonna face me, old man?” “I’m right here, my boy. Ready when you are.” There’s a moment of hesitation- a flicker of doubt in Bakugo’s eyes, a drop in his shoulders. But then his whole body goes tense like a steel coil. He launches forward with an enraged roar. Yagi sees the right-side feint coming a mile away. His hands don’t even leave his pockets. He dodges the crippling left hook by leaning backward just a few inches, letting the blow and all the weight behind it fly harmlessly off to the side. To Bakugo’s credit, the boy didn’t seem to expect or rely on that one hit to land. He hasn’t thrown his balance off by over-committing on his punches like he used to. And his reaction time is sharp as always, following just a hair’s breadth behind his opponent’s. He shifts his stance for a brief moment — just a split second as he turns into a follow-through — but for a man as blindingly fast as Yagi, that’s all that’s needed. Bakugo’s center of gravity dissipates for a split second as his weight shifts, tensing for the next blow. Before he can re-center, Yagi shoots out a flat-footed kick to the boy’s knee, collapsing it. When his leg gives, the teacher steps in and hooks one massive hand around the back of the kid’s neck so he can’t get away. He grabs a handful of blonde hair and then, in the same motion as he drags the boy’s head down, brings his knee up hard to meet it with a ringing crack. Bakugo reels back, clutching his now-swollen nose. “What the fuck?” he shouts at the blood dripping from between his fingers. Aizawa breathes a sigh of relief. That’s a debilitating combo, designed to quickly and efficiently incapacitate. Aizawa’s torn plenty of MCL’s and broken plenty of noses that way. But for a man whose wiry frame packs so much unexpected punch, that combo could easily break the kneecap and shatter the face. That upward knee was perfect in form, with Yagi’s body arched and hips angled as if you throw his whole weight behind it, but the push-off from his rear foot was purposefully weak. Yagi held back from dealing the boy serious injury, his strength carefully leashed. It appears that he meant it when he said they weren't visiting Recovery Girl today. As if Bakugo senses that that was nothing but a rap on the wrist, as if he knows that Yagi has done nothing but chastise him, he launches back into the fight with a scream. If he was holding back against his childhood hero before, he’s definitely not holding back now. But the boy’s face streams with a thick combination of reflexive tears, snot, and blood from his nose, which makes it hard for him to see. The teacher dodges or parries every punch with almost criminal ease. To Bakugo’s credit, he doesn’t fall for the same trick again. He successfully dodges several retaliating blows and he does his best to stay clear of Yagi’s overwhelmingly superior reach. But he’s slowed down by the fact that his knee won’t take his full weight anymore. Most of the teacher’s instructive little ‘love taps’ land, leaving behind livid bruises. Once he even ducks and leans in to sweep Bakugo’s anchor foot out from under him when the boy tries for a wild roundhouse, which sends Bakugo crashing down in a heap of limbs. Then he steps back, allowing the boy to kip up to his feet. Yagi lets Bakugo chase him around the ring. And although Yagi appears to be retreating, it’s clear to anyone with a trained eye that he’s leading the boy around by the nose. The kid never gets in more than a glancing blow. The only hits he lands are the ones Yagi allows him to, as setups for further follow-through combos that Bakugo only sometimes escapes from. Otherwise Yagi just dances out of his way, unruffled and barely even breaking a sweat in the sweltering sun. The rest of the class watches in stunned silence as this farce of a fight continues. The teacher never stops smiling mildly, and if they didn’t know better, they’d say Yagi was toying with Bakugo. It’s almost scary. They’ve seen Yagi fight as All Might, but his old style is not nearly this nuanced, this precise. Or maybe it was, but they couldn’t actually tell because of how fast he moved, and how much his bulky muscle form obscured the subtlety of his movements. Here, now, in this form, he’s still sometimes too fast to follow. But the fluidity of his movement is clear in the graceful, practiced way his limbs snap back into stance like rubber bands, re-setting between moves and reading his opponent’s body like it’s second nature, like he knows what Bakugo’s going to try next even before the boy himself does. Midorya and Bakugo seem most shocked of all. He wasn’t like this when they faced him in their final exam, and Midorya has mostly just been training his Quirk use with All Might: not his hand-to-hand basics. So it comes as an immense surprise that All Might can fight with more than just raw power. Here is where it becomes clear that Yagi’s S Rank intelligence isn’t just a pretty facade, for all that he plays the bumbling idiot. Here is where his genius shines through like the steely glint of a knife edge. The students never knew All Might had such debilitating technique! Aizawa, on the other hand, knows better. Just a week ago when he, Present Mic, and Midnight took the new teacher out to a bar to celebrate Hizashi's birthday, he witnessed Yagi halt a crime-in-progress without even blinking. While the retired hero was in the bathroom, Midnight noticed a man across the bar slip something into a young woman’s drink. She immediately shouted for him to stop. Realizing he’d been made, the man made a break for the door. The three heroes leapt from their seats to pursue, but then Yagi appeared out of nowhere and just clotheslined the guy. The man hit the floorboards wheezing and before he could even think about retaliating, Yagi was there with one huge hand spanning the perp’s throat and a knee planted in his gut to hold him down. The motion was so powerfully practiced, and the follow-through so smooth, that it looked like Yagi just plucked him out of the air and slammed him into the ground. When Yagi glanced up and noticed the three heroes staring, he just shrugged and laughed. “What? Just because I can’t bench-press a semi anymore doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten everything I learned in forty years of hero-ing !” It’s apparent now that while All Might has been put to bed forever, Yagi Toshinori is still very much alive and stronger, faster, cleverer than he looks. His ill health does not necessarily make him frail. After Yagi lets Bakugo get in a weak punch to the jaw so he can snag the boy into another grappling hold and throw him over his shoulder so hard it leaves an imprint in the dust, he releases Bakugo yet again. While Bakugo struggles to spring upright quickly on his bad knee, Yagi pauses to wheeze once and spit blood that Bakugo almost certainly did not put there. Then the hero puts his hands on his narrow hips and exclaims, “Come on my boy! I’m missing half my insides and I’m old enough to be your grandfather! This shouldn’t be hard, right?” But the fire is in his piercing blue eyes, and though Bakugo gives it his all, the boy doesn’t even get close with his next swipe. Looks Yagi’s he’s done toying around. His next move is so blindingly fast, it makes Aizawa wonder if he doesn’t still have his power after all. The teacher side-steps the boy’s wild charge, scoops his arm under Bakugo’s shoulder, folds the back of the head in his palm, uses the boy’s own weight to sweep his feet out from under him and send him sprawling forward, pivots behind him as he falls, and then drives down on top of his opponent, pinning him to the ground with a knee in the small of his back and twisting his arm behind him. The boy tries to rise with a growl, but falls back down defeated when Toshinori tugs a little harder on his arm. He kicks his legs uselessly instead, struggling and muttering curses into the dirt. “I think that’s enough,” says the teacher. He’s panting just a bit, his chest rising and falling fast, but that’s likely more a result of him missing half a lung than anything Bakugo did. He has his student well and truly subdued. He holds him there, letting the boy seethe and writhe and gnash his teeth angrily on the ground as he explains to the class. “So then kids, this is what Bakugo’s been missing. His Quirk is powerful, but ineffective against Kirishima. What he needs to beat Kirishima is Quirkless fighting skills. It's worth noting that most impact-based moves won’t work on someone with a hardening, shock-absorbing, or invulnerability Quirk like Kirishima’s or Sato’s. Punches and kicks will have no effect, and can even recoil on you. Grappling applies a different kind of pressure. If I had Kirishima in this grip, I could easily snap his arm at the elbow, dislocate it at the shoulder, or get him into a restraining headlock from here. As long as there’s still flexibility in the joints left, grappling can exploit that. And the only way to get good at grappling is practicing the skill. Technique and form are everything in hand-to-hand combat. Even the strongest of behemoths can be brought down by a fighter who knows how to use their opponent’s body against them, regardless of size and physical strength.””Oh, just like Aizawa-sensei!” Kirishima exclaims, face lighting up with the smile of epiphany that every teacher strives for. Aizawa is unsurprised to hear his name brought up in this context, but he is surprised by the sudden smile and the admiring glimmer on Yagi’s eyes when he replies.”Yes, exactly!” he nods. “Eraserhead is the perfect example. Erasure is an incredible power, but once it’s Erased a Quirk, all it’s really done is level the playing field to a baseline. After that, it’s up to Eraserhead to bring his opponent down before his next blink. With heteromorphic Quirks, sometimes he doesn’t even get that much. So he makes sure he excels in a variety of fighting styles, both armed and unarmed. He can identify and exploit his enemies’ physical weaknesses in a split second. Even I needed that foundation in my own career, no matter how strong I was. When it came to super-villains in my own career who had gigantification-type Quirks, I sometimes found myself in situations where all the power in the world meant nothing if I couldn’t win a fight without massive collateral damage. Using my power to end a fight quickly with a big smash was poor alternative if it meant razing the whole city block along with the villain. In those times, I had to apply these same principles on a large scale, with minimal Quirk use, to contain and restrain the problem until the villain’s power wore off or help arrived. So, all of you should work on diversifying and refining your Quirkless combat skills so that you have a wide variety of tools at your disposal. I learned how to fight without my Quirk long before I learned to fight with it. A hero is only as good with their Quirk as they are without it. Does that make sense?” When he receives nods all around, he pats Bakugo’s arm and then lets go. After being pinned for a little while, the boy seems to have calmed down from his earlier semi-rabid struggling. The brow-beaten student heaves himself to his feet, batting away the helping hand that Toshinori offers. “You did very well, my boy,” says the teacher. Bakugo glares, practically spitting: “The hell are you talking about? You fucking creamed me!” “Nonsense. I’ve got forty more years of experience than you. You bounced back, stayed on the offensive, and adapted, which is impressive on its own! You’re strong, fast, and have plenty of potential. Also, keep in mind that if you had been using your Quirk, I would’ve had to work much harder than that to hold my own. Now, let’s get you cleaned up. You can call it a day.” Toshinori slings an arm around Bakugo’s shoulders, leading him towards the observation deck where the field kit sits under the bench. But the boy shrugs him off, wiping his streaming face on his shirt. “No,” he insists, “Not yet. Show me how to do that throw. I wanna try it on Kirishima.” “Are you sure? Your nose is-” “It’s not broken, I know what a broken nose feels like. I’m not gonna let a little blood stop me. Now show me the throw.””Alright, but go gentle on that knee or else I’ll pull you.”“Yeah yeah, I get it.” Aizawa watches with a warm sense of approval — perhaps even delight — as Toshinori demonstrates the move, this time lowering Bakugo to the ground with care. The boy springs to his feet and then goes through the motions in return, taking it one slow step at a time with a frown of concentration wrinkling his brow. Toshinori allows the boy to follow through the preliminary motions several times, then pin him once. He takes Bakugo’s arm to steady himself as he stands up. “Good job! You can practice without the kid gloves with Kirishima. But it’s only fair that I show Kirishima how to counter that one. Come here, my boy.” Toshinori then demonstrates on Kirishima how to twist out of the preliminary grip and get behind your opponent before they can complete the sweep-and-pivot, setting you up for a variety of different counters. He lets Kirishima perform the move on him, albiet gently. The whole class has gathered around to watch and so, since this seems to have turned into a grappling lesson, Yagi has each student perform both the sweep and the counter once on each other under his supervision. He makes sure they all have the the form down before he lets them go back to their bouts to practice, each with a new sparkle of ambition in their eyes.Yagi might not be good with the theory behind teaching, Aizawa reflects, but he can definitely show better than he tells. After the demonstration the teacher cleans Bakugo up with almost fatherly care, then reluctantly allows the boy to go back to his bout with Kirishima. It ends up with the pair of them grappling on the ground, wrestling back and forth with a variety of improvised moves. The rest of the class — those for whom it applies, at least — give the moves a try in the practical setting themselves. It works like a charm for Todoroki the first time: he pins Sato and then freezes him down with a thick layer of ice. But the next time, Sato uses the counter and slips from his grasp, lighter on his feet than he’s ever been, and collapses the back of Todoroki’s knee with a messy-but-effective kick from behind. Meanwhile, Mineta tries grappling with Ashido and uses it as an excuse to grab her boob one too many times, finally driving her past the point of silence. She shrieks her indignation and peels him off of her, drawing the teacher’s attention to what’s been going on. Toshinori, utterly enraged, storms onto the training ground and drags the terrified boy out by the collar of his purple jumpsuit. Mina spends the next fifteen minutes melting the purple balls off of her uniform, her face burning with embarrassment the entire time, and Yagi spends the next fifteen minutes giving Mineta a thorough tongue-lashing. Aizawa is surprised to see it actually working this time. The boy’s face is flushed so dark red that he almost matches his costume. Yagi works himself up so much he accidentally spits blood, which also does a lot to scare Mineta straight. Aizawa is almost jealous, watching it. He’s tried to chastise Mineta for his inappropriate behavior before, and while it usually curbs him for a short time, the boy is forgetful in the long run and falls back into the same patterns. But if the look on his face is anything to go by, this particular lecture will stick with him for a long, long time. Perhaps Yagi’s wrath is a bit more intimidating than Aizawa’s because of its rarity, its stark contrast to his usual sunny disposition. Add to that the fact that scowling turns Toshinori’s gaunt face into a perfect nightmare, and Mineta will probably be scared to even look at one of the girls for a month. Once he’s wiped up the spat blood, Yagi assigns Mineta detention and pulls him from the field for the rest of class, grumbling about how ‘fed-up’ he is with Mineta’s ‘deplorable disrespect’. Aizawa wishes the other teacher would have consulted him first about the detention, since it’s the homeroom teacher’s responsibility to carry it out, but he lets it slide this time. He would have agreed anyway. Once the teacher has taken care of Mineta, he goes to offer the very embarrassed Ashido a hug and apologize for letting that happen to her, which Aizawa thinks is a nice touch. It never occurred to him that the girls would be so upset, but the moment Toshinori opens his arms to Ashido, the girl latches onto him and thanks him profusely for telling Mineta off. She presses her burning face into his bony chest, and he holds her for as long as she wants while he reassures her that she has nothing to be ashamed of and she can come to him if something like that happens again. Aizawa, slightly embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed before, files that one away for the future. He’s not much one for physical displays of affection with his students — he always felt like he was toeing the line of the unprofessional — but if it reassures the girls after a Mineta-incident, for this class he can make an exception. It’s important that the girls trust him as their teacher to curb Mineta’s behavior and protect them from further violation. Later in the afternoon, Yagi switches a few more of the pairs around just to give the students some variety. Midorya and Todoroki have a go at each other, but Yagi wisely intervenes when Todoroki gets too worked up and flushes half the training ground with ice. He has a conversation with the boy about restraint, which gives Todoroki much to think about. He also ends up having to break up Asui and Uraraka, who get a bit too competitive with their dazzling, gravity-defying mid-air fights. Then, later on, Tokoyami’s Dark Shadow gets upset about being overwhelmed by the bright light of Aoyama’s navel laser. The agitated creature retreats within Tokoyami, refusing to come out again. But the teacher arrests the situation. Yagi advises Tokoyami on how to dodge the laser without Dark Shadow’s help to help nullify the problem, then addressed Dark Shadow directly: a tactic that strikes Aizawa as strange, but works surprisingly well. After all, Aizawa reasons, Dark Shadow has distinguished itself as a conscious entity with a semi-independent kind of sentience, and feelings separate from those of Tokoyami. Yagi convinces Dark Shadow to power through the light, urging the creature to obey Tokoyami the way one would urge a fussy toddler to obey a parent. Other than those little incidents, the remainder of the class goes off without any further hitch. The students are exhausted and dragging their feet by the end, but Aizawa is pleased with the amount of improvement they’ve shown after just one session. Yagi’s easygoing smile is back by the end of it. He makes sure to give each student a positive parting comment, saying that they’ll discuss his notes and the results of their bouts in class the next day. As Yagi is escorting the group to the locker rooms, Aizawa swings down from the roof of the building, rappelling to the ground with his capture weapon. He walks the opposite direction, unnoticed by the class, his eyes distant and thoughtful. He shoves his hands in his pockets as his scarf re-winds itself around his neck. He is deeply buried in his thoughts, remembering something that happened just a short while ago.… He found himself in All Might’s hospital room not long after the battle of Kamino Ward. When he saw the man laid out on the white bedsheets, so painfully thin and exhausted, his breath rattling in his chest and his arm utterly mangled, the teacher almost turned around and left. It reminded Aizawa too much of the USJ, when the roles had been switched and HE was the one bleeding in a hospital because he gave his body to save a child’s life. It was hard for him to say what he came to say, knowing intimately what kind of pain the other man was in. But it needed to be said, and it needed to be said NOW.
“Aizawa,” All Might said with a thin smile. “Good to see you.”
“Glad to see you’re not dead. But we need to talk,” grunted the teacher. The other man’s smile only widened.
“Direct as always, my friend! What would you like to discuss?”
Aizawa pulled up a nearby chair and double-checked that the door was closed. Then he leaned forward and flashed All Might a frown.
“You heard what happened to Midorya?”
“Somewhat,” said the newly-retired hero, looking away from Aizawa’s heavy dark gaze at the mention of his favorite student. “I was caught up with the raid preparations at the time. I know his arms were severely injured again during the training camp attack, and I saw him earlier. I plan on giving him a talking-to about his stunt at Kamino Ward, if that’s what you’re here about.”
“No, I don’t care about that," said Aizawa, waving his hand as if to brush the pesky thought away. He leaned forward in his seat, getting up in the other man's personal space. His voice was low and measured.
"I’m here to warn you, All Might. I don’t know what kind of special bond you have with Midorya, but I know you favor him. I appreciate you giving extra hours of your time to personally tutor him, or whatever it is you two do when you go off together. He needs the help. But if you’re going to continue training him, you need to understand something. That kid has destroyed himself again and again, trying to be like you. And that weird power of his backfires every time he tries to go at 100%. Now he has a new medical restriction on his record. If he shatters his arms like that again, his ligaments may never recover. It’ll destroy his joints. There’ll be permanent, irreparable damage.”
All Might’s eyes widened, and the smile dropped.
“P… permanent?”
“Yes. And I want you to be aware that it’s as much your fault as it is his. I know you’re trying to help him use his power properly. I’m here to tell you that whatever you’ve been teaching him, you need to step it up and figure something else out. Because I swear to god, if that kid loses the use of his arms then I WILL hold you responsible. And I’ll come for you, Symbol of Peace or not. I’ll come for you.”
The pair stared at each other for a long minute, solemn and grave. At length, All Might murmured,
“I am not responsible for Midoriya’s actions. No one is but him. I know you know that. But… I am responsible for the mindset that led to those choices. You are right to blame me, Aizawa. I have failed him as a mentor, and I recognize that now. I won’t let it happen again.”
Aizawa nodded as he felt the tension drain from the air between them. An understanding had been reached: the message was received, and accepted.
“Good.
I’ll see you when you’re released.”
Then he stood, brushed his jumpsuit off, shoved his hands in his pockets, and turned to leave. But before he got to the door, All Might’s voice stopped him.
“You care a lot about Midorya, don’t you. And Bakugo too.”
It’s less a question than a statement. Aizawa paused in the doorway and said without turning around,
“…You’re damn right I do. I care about ALL of my kids, so I expect you to shape up as their teacher, and soon.”
“I’ll do my best not to disappoint. Thank you for being frank with me, Aizawa. I don’t get a lot of frankness from people. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that about you.”
The teacher shifts his weight to his other foot awkwardly, but then nods over his shoulder.
“Of course. Anytime. Take care of yourself, All Might.”
“Call me by my name now, please. Yagi Toshinori.”
“Alright then. See you around… Yagi.”
Remembering that day, Aizawa feels a nibbling sense of guilt. It’s a pestering, insidious thing, guilt. But perhaps deserved. Did he really have to threaten Yagi back then? Maybe not. Either way, in light of what he saw today, he thinks it’s time for a follow-up… After Class 1-A have changed out of their gym uniforms and are situated in their last class of the day- Mathematics with Ectoplasm- Aizawa seeks out Yagi. He didn’t originally plan to reveal to his fellow teacher that he was watching, since it was a little creepy. But he has something that he thinks is worth saying for once. It takes him a little hunting to find the man, but he eventually stumbles across him in the teacher’s lounge. The homeroom teacher pauses in the doorway when he sees Toshinori laid out on the couch, trying to sleep. He’s changed his shirt, since the other one got smeared with dirt when he sparred with the students earlier. His arm is thrown over his eyes and his chest swells slowly, wheezing just a little on the exhale. Aizawa turns away, resolved that what he has to say can wait. But Yagi sighs before he can escape, moving his arm away from his face as if he senses Aizawa’s silent presence. “Sorry,” says Aizawa as Yagi sits up, “did I wake you?” “Not at all, I wasn’t asleep. Just resting.” “Kids tire you out?” Aizawa wonders, closing the door of the lounge behind him. He comes to perch on the arm of the couch. Yagi just shrugs, wiping one large hand across his face to wake himself up. “I just don’t have as much endurance as I used to, I guess. Over-did it a little. They’re an… energetic group.” “That they are. I would’ve appreciated a heads-up about Mineta’s detention, though.” “Oh, you saw that? I’m sorry, I should’ve consulted you first. I’ll happily take care of it if you want, you don’t have to stay late.” “Don’t worry about it,” says Aizawa with a dismissive wave of his hand. “He needed disciplining in the moment. And besides, I want to get my two cents in, so it’s fine. You dealt with it well.” “You think so?” “Yeah. I uh… I saw the whole thing, actually. That class was rough in the beginning, but you handled everything. I was…impressed.” Toshinori’s face lights up with a bewildered, though immensely pleased, smile, which brings all the color to Aizawa’s face. “Really? I thought you said… I mean, I thought I was bad at this.” “You were. But you have to suck at something first before you can be good at it, and you’ve improved lately. I think the difference is… well, me, I know education theory very well. I took certification courses before I accepted this job, so I can control a classroom and identify a student’s educational needs easily. I’ve got all the technique, like you said before. But, I’m not so great with the social part of it. I can deal with the more serious emotional issues if I have to, but… well, I don’t have much of a bedside manner. It’s not my thing.” “I’ve noticed,” chuckles Yagi, and somehow the gentle look in his blue eyes takes all the sting out of it. It puts a little courage in Aizawa’s gut, so he pushes on. “You, on the other hand, don’t understand education theory for shit. You can’t verbally explain things for your life without aides, and I shudder to think what it’d be like if you tried to teach a purely lecture-based class. You tend to gloss over fundamentals because you assume they’re a given. You forget not everyone is as quick a learner as you. But at the same time, you understand something I don’t. You can connect with the kids. You can make them listen to you and trust you without having to try. You so much as open your mouth and boom, you have their attention. You’re a person who leads by example. You do your best teaching when you’re showing them how and why, instead of just telling them what. It works. What you did with Bakugo was exactly what he needed. His pride had to be tempered so he could understand what he was doing wrong and how much room he has to improve. And I’ll admit, I… I haven’t been doing enough to curb Mineta’s behavior. Not in meaningful ways, obviously, or it wouldn’t still be happening. So I’m grateful to you for putting him in his place and making Ashido feel better. She needed to hear that from you, he needed to see swift and harsh consequences for his actions, and the class needed to see it happen in the moment so they understand that that kind of thing doesn’t fly here. Anyway… in the end, what I’m trying to say is, I recognize how much you’ve improved now. You’re really putting in the work now that teaching is your only focus, and it shows. So don’t get discouraged because you don’t always succeed as a teacher. You’re still learning, yourself. Honestly, teaching should be a lifelong learning process anyway. As long as your failings don’t get the kids hurt or put their grades behind, it’s okay for you to make mistakes along the way. You’re good at this in your own right. And… I appreciate how hard you’re trying.” Yagi’s face grows in brightness as Aizawa goes on. By the time the younger teacher finishes, the retired hero is practically glowing, his grin a mile wide and his shadowed blue eyes alight. Aizawa looks away from that blinding brilliance, his stomach suddenly twisting with something powerful but unnamable. It gets intensely worse when Yagi reaches out and picks up his hand, giving it a gratified squeeze. Aizawa’s face flushes a bright, uncontrollable shade of red when he notices the dry, warm calluses and the strong fingers of that hand. “It means a lot to me to hear you say that, Aizawa-kun. I’ll keep trying hard. Thank you so much for your kind words, my friend.” Momentarily stumped, Aizawa half wants to say 'I’m not your friend' more out of force of habit than anything else. But when he stops to think about it, if he’s not Yagi’s friend at this point, what the hell are they? It’s nearly impossible to not want to be close to the man, when he has a smile like that. “Yes, well um, that’s very good. I have to go now but I’ll uh…. I’ll see you later I suppose,” stammers Aizawa as he extricates his fingers from Yagi’s grasp. He is both relieved and disappointed to be free of it. He lurches to his feet and makes a beeline for the exit. “Oh... Well, bye then! Take care!” Yagi calls after him, and then Aizawa is gone, leaving his fellow teacher to stare after him baffled. Aizawa closes the panel behind him with a faint sigh of relief, which turns into a startled hiss when he looks to his right and sees none other than Midnight poised outside, her ear hovering near the hinges of the door as if she’s been listening. He snatches her by the arm and drags her away with a glower, determined that Yagi will not overhear the long string of foul words he has prepared for the X-rated hero. When they’ve made it around the corner he turns on her with a glare that would cut glass. “How long have you been standing there?” he demands of his friend. Midnight just flashes him a low, sinister smile, one that flushes his blood cold. It’s an ‘I-now-know-some-things-and-I-fully-intend-to-share-those-things’, smile. An absolute, shit-eating grin. “You two are so cute.” It’s all Aizawa can do not to scream at this. She ducks away when he makes a grab for her, laughing evilly. He chases her down the hallway, activating his Quirk and shooting his capture weapon after her, which she effectively dodges. “Nemuri! Hey! Get back here, or so help me — you better not tell Hizashi!” She just cackles and dives aside to escape the coiling capture weapon, disappearing around the corner. She’s gone by the time he catches up. He’s lost her. He turns with a huff and shoves his hands back in his pockets, his face still burning. He has to get it under control in the next few minutes: the last part of the kids’ school day is a short session of homeroom, which he has to be there for. He makes his way across the building to his classroom, thinking the entire way. It’s Nemuri, she just likes gossip, that’s all. I’ve known her since high school, she won’t tell anyone if I ask her not to. Right? Except maybe Hizashi because he’s my other best friend and those two idiots tell each other everything. But Hizashi can’t keep anything to himself, that dumbass will tell everyone, shit shit shit I have to intercept her before she reaches him- BUT NEITHER OF THEM HAS A HOMEROOM! SHIT! SHE’S PROBABLY TELLING HIM RIGHT NOW! But… what is there to tell? It’s not like we said or did anything weird. I was just encouraging a coworker, that’s all. Work stuff. And he called me his friend? I mean it’s a little out of character for me to say so much at once, but obviously Yagi needed to hear it, and it’s not rational for me to keep something vital like that to myself when it would do him a lot of good. I’m just doing it because I want him to be a better teacher to my students, is that so weird? I’ll just track Nemuri and Hizashi down after homeroom and explain. Oh wait, but I have Mineta’s detention…Wait a second…Aizawa only belatedly realizes that he forgot to ask what time Yagi assigned Mineta’s detention for.… Class 1-A is exhausted when Mr. Aizawa finally dismisses them. Jiro and Kaminari will probably end up staying up late playing video games in spite of their exhaustion, but the rest of the kids agree that they’re going to bed early. They declare that anyone who makes too much noise in the dorms after eight ‘o clock will be dragged from their room and submitted to the wrath of Bakugo, which is enough to deter just about anyone. Especially considering the thunderous mood Bakugo’s been in, ever since his stinging defeat at the hands of his old, sick, and essentially Quirkless teacher. Mineta drags his feet behind everyone else, his eyes lowered. After being pulled from class today, he’s not much in the mood to join in the fun. He feels even worse when none of his peers approach him to cheer him up- -Except Aizawa-sensei, whose shadow suddenly engulfs him when the teacher blocks the doorway. “Mineta. What time did All Might assign your detention for?” The boy gives a nervous little laugh, scratching one of the round purple lumps on the back of his head. “Oh, ehehe, he told you about that?” “No.” “Wha- then how did you know?” “I just know things. Now spit it out already. What. Time.” Once again mildly terrified for his life, the boy claps his hands to his sides in a strict pose of attention. “Uh-uh-uh, 6:00 sir!” “Good. You’ll get a to-go meal from Lunch Rush and bring it here to eat. Then you will serve out your detention with me until I go out on patrol at 10:00, after which time you will be free to go.” Mineta’s stomach sinks to his feet. He stares, agape, at his teacher. “F-f-four hours? But sir, that’s so late and I still have homework! I’m tired, we were all gonna go to bed early!” “Well since your last two-hour detention didn’t seem to stick, maybe twice the time will.” “All Might said I’d only be here for two!” “All Might is too nice. Be back here at 6:00. If you’re late I’ll add two more hours for tomorrow evening.” The teacher turns on his heel and leaves with his yellow sleeping bag rolled up under one arm. Mineta stares after him agape, thinking back to the lengthy lecture he received from All Might, with that terrifying look of rage on his face and a voice so powerful it damn near shattered the boy’s eardrums. The great and powerful All Might may be retired, but he definitely hasn’t lost his booming voice, or his capacity for rare but thunderous anger. Not to mention the fact that All Might got so pissed he accidentally coughed blood, and he didn’t even break his sentence! He just kept lecturing with blood leftover on his chin like a freaking vampire! It was one of the most terrifying experiences of Mineta’s young life, second only to the times in the past year when he almost died. He was sure the retired hero was going to punt him across the training field like an oversized purple football! How the hell is that ‘too nice’????? he thinks sourly as he slumps out of the empty classroom.… Aizawa has two favorite kinds of detention.One is an extended Pilates session, which he reserves for students who have committed lesser offenses. Pilates might be one of the most exquisite ways to suffer, but at least it’s useful to the kids’ training and helps strengthen them. Usually he just puts on a video series— something just barely out-of-date enough to be annoying, with a far-too-cheery instructor— and then lays down to take a nap with one ear tuned to the sound of sweating, suffering students.His other favorite kind is the old-fashioned detention where the teacher assigns you a few sentences to write over and over on the board. This is the more severe of the two, reserved for high offenses. It’s mind-numbing, it gives you cramps to make you wish your hand would just fall off already, the smell of chalk will make you sick to your stomach by the end of it, and worst of all: it’s absolutely useless. It serves no purpose. It’s a complete and utter waste of time and energy. Mineta is visibly relieved to find out that he’s not doing Pilates, like he heard from some of the other students. But Aizawa will change his mind soon enough. After the boy has sat down with his packed dinner, Aizawa closes the door and picks up a brand-new box of blackboard chalk. He selects a new piece and holds it up for Mineta to see. “This,” he says, “will be the instrument of your punishment. I’ll write your sentences on the board for you, and then you will copy them in the smallest print possible over and over until your fingers go numb. You will have one five-minute break per hour to use the bathroom. Is that clear?” “Yes sir,” grumbles the boy, slowly unwrapping his dinner box as if to take his sweet time about eating as a way to put off the suffering. Aizawa grins evilly. “Good. You have until I finish writing it out to eat your dinner, and then I’m dumping what’s left in the trash.” The teacher hears a panicked squeal followed by the sound of the boy ravenously shoving everything in his mouth. He turns his back and starts to write. Impressively enough, Mineta manages to get about two thirds of his dinner down before Aizawa snatches it out from his hand and thrusts the box of chalk in his face. “There you go. I’m taking a nap. I expect this board to be covered in small-print before the hour is out, and don’t think I won’t notice if you decide to take a little break.” Mineta, who’s starting to look queasy from eating all that food at once, suffices to nod. Aizawa was mostly bluffing about dumping the rest of the food in the trash. He is fundamentally opposed to food waste. Heroes are, in general, an environmentally conscious bunch. But he doesn’t save it for Mineta either. He shovels the last three leftover bites in his own face— waste not, want not— and then dumps the remains in the proper receptacles when he passes, ignoring Mometa’s jealous glare. Then he pulls his sleeping bag out from its hiding place in the podium. As he lays out and zips it up, Mineta’s voice mumbles the phrase on the board. The repetitive tap and squeak of chalk follows, punctuated by the boy murmuring underneath: “Touching a girl without her spoken permission is sexual harassment. Sexual harassment is unacceptable behavior. It is especially deplorable for a hero. I will never touch a girl without her permission again.” Aizawa falls asleep to it, his brain tuned carefully to the rhythmic scratch of chalk on blackboard. About half an hour in, a stretch of silence drags him into consciousness. Without opening his eyes he growls, “Something wrong, Mineta?” “No sir! My wrist just hurts.” “Too bad. Shoulda thought of that before you decided it was okay to grope Ashido. It’s not break time yet. Keep going.” The chalk resumes, and Aizawa goes back to sleep. They’re about two hours through, and it’s the best rest the teacher has had all week, when his buzzing phone rouses him. He groans his annoyance and rifles around his jumpsuit pocket for the phone, bringing it to his ear without checking the caller I.D. “Hullo?” “AIZAWA! I can’t find my notes from today or my worksheets for tomorrow, my whole folder just disappeared! There’s a whole week’s worth of lesson plans in there! Have you seen my folder anywhere since this afternoon?! It's the black leather one with the red binding!” “Jeez, take it down a notch,” mutters Aizawa, jerking the device away from his ear when Toshinori’s panicked voice damn near blows his eardrums. “Right, right, sorry.” “Have you checked the lounge? You were in there earlier after class.” “Yes, I’ve been retracing my steps for an hour now.” “Could someone have taken it by accident? Or maybe a student looking for a cheat-sheet?” “That occurred to me, but it makes no sense. My name’s engraved on both covers, anyone who grabbed it by mistake would realize right away. And there’s no test scores or answer sheets to steal in that folder, I keep those locked in my desk like you told me to.” “Yeah… that is weird…” Aizawa says, narrowing his eyes. Something smells funny to him… Toshinori sighs over the phone. “Nothing to be done about it for now, I guess. It’ll either turn up or it won’t. Until then, would you do me a favor?” “Sure, what do you need?” “I uh… I’m gonna need help pulling something together for tomorrow’s lesson, since I’ve lost my notes from training this afternoon. I don’t want to be a mess in class for the rest of the week. Would you mind assisting me? I only have a vague idea of each student’s performance from this afternoon, my notes had the details. Can’t exactly criticize a student’s grappling form if you don’t remember exactly where they went wrong.You were watching too, maybe we can pull together some useful feedback from memory.” “Hm… I did make a few observations. But I’m in the middle of Mineta’s detention.” “Really? I thought it would’ve been over by now.” “I told you I’d get my two cents in.” “That’s fine then, don't worry about it. I can ask someone else to help me figure out an alternative lesson for tomorrow.” “Hold on a sec, I didn’t say I wouldn’t help. Let me put you on hold real quick.” “Oh! Okay!” Aizawa pulls the phone away and taps it against his lip thoughtfully. This reeks of Nemuri. I swear to god, if those two idiots fucking planned this… After a moment’s deliberation, he dials Hizashi. This time he holds the phone far away from his ear out of habit. His friend picks up before it’s even rung once, which basically confirms his suspicions. “SHOOOOTAAAAAAA! What is UP homeslice?!” Hizashi screams into the phone. Aizawa waits until he’s done before bringing it back to his face. “Hey. Need you to cover for me for a couple of hours. Something cropped up and I’m in the middle of a detention. You mind finishing it for me?” There’s a quiet snickering in the background, and although it’s faint, he thinks he hears a female voice whisper ‘Hah! Told you. Pay up!’ Aizawa heaves an exasperated sigh, thinking of Midnight’s shit-eating grin from earlier that day. Yup. This has Nemuri and Hizashi written all over it. Knowing them, they had stolen Yagi’s coursework based on the (annoyingly correct) assumption that, out of anyone in the first-year staff, Aizawa is the one Yagi turns to first when it comes to teaching help and pedagogy questions. Or really, the one he turns to first period. But, Aizawa can’t say anything to his friends about his suspicions because that would mean admitting their meddling bothered him, which would mean they were right and him having feelings about Yagi. Which he most certainly does not. And besides, he doesn’t want to give away anything compromising in front of Mineta, who will spread whatever he hears around. “No problem amigo! I’ll be over in a tic!” says Hizashi. “Thanks,” sighs Aizawa. “I’ll cover your class next time you need a day off.” “Don’t worry about it, we’re all friends here my dude! Peace out.” Aizawa jabs his phone screen to hang up the one call, resisting the urge to sigh again. He has the worst friends. He picks Yagi’s call back up and asks the other man to meet him at the school library in fifteen minutes. Then he finally ends the call, shoving his phone back in his pocket with a soft, tired moan. It occurs to him that the chalk has been silent basically since his phone rang. “Did I tell you to stop, Mineta?” “No sir!” the kid yelps, and turns back to the blackboard.… Aizawa only has three more hours before patrol. He usually leaves the school at 10:00 so he can touch base with his agency before starting his rounds at 11:00. But he meets Yagi at the school library and spends up until 10:30 helping the other man re-construct his notes from the day’s training bout. They drink the cheap black tea from the library’s mini-café and hunch over one of the study tables in a corner, attempting to piece together a Foundational Hero Studies lesson plan for the next couple days. By the time Aizawa finally has to jet, they’ve accumulated a sizable commentary on each student’s performance based on what they both remember, and come up with a replacement worksheet that still has most of the questions from the previous one, albeit phrased differently. The previous worksheet sounded like a mess to Aizawa, like something downloaded online from a cheap website. The new assignment is a vast improvement. Now all that’s left is for Yagi to print the worksheets, and for Aizawa to run full-speed to his agency before he’s late for patrol. “Thanks so much, Aizawa!” calls Yagi, waving good-bye. “No problem. Let me know when you find your folder. If you don’t, I can help you with the rest of the week’s lesson plans later.” “Sounds good. Be careful out there!” Aizawa jogs out into the cool night air, waving once over his shoulder. Usually he looks forward to patrol, since it’s what he became a hero for. The nighttime rooftops are his domain, the shaded back alleyways his kingdom, the creeping low-lifes his subjects to be ruled with an iron fist. But strangely, he wishes he could blow off patrol and stay in that warm library instead, drinking crappy tea and laughing with Yagi about the banality of the stupid little things they remember, compared to all the stuff they didn’t think to pay attention to.He gives his head a shake to clear it and dives into the night.… And that’s how, by the end of the week, he’s finally worked up the courage to ask Yagi Toshinori out on a lunch date. Aizawa has been convincing himself for a long time that there’s no way the Symbol of Peace is a closet gay. Once he stopped hating All Might’s guts and started warming up to the very different person of Yagi, he realized exactly what was happening and reined himself in. Don’t even dream of it, he told himself. There’s no way he’s into you. You basically told him you hated him to his face on like, the first week. He probably thinks you're an asshole. And besides, even if he IS gay, he’s your co-worker. It would be awkward. Not a good mess to stick your nose into. And yet, there's something about the way Yagi touched his hand, the way he smiled… He looks at everyone like that, dumbass. Still, Hizashi and Nemuri are convinced that it’s worth a try, and Nemuri’s gaydar is rarely wrong. She clocked Aizawa after knowing him for three minutes back in high school, before even he himself was aware. It’s like she can smell a person’s preferences on them, or something. Perhaps she’s right about Yagi too. Of course, Aizawa is partially going through with this just to shut Nemuri and Hizashi up. The silent standoff has gone long enough, and he knows if he doesn’t at least try to ask Yagi out, they’ll continue to steal the hapless teacher’s coursework in an attempt to force the two together. So at the end of the week Aizawa approaches Yagi and ‘shoots his shot’, as the kids say these days. He doesn’t do a great job of phrasing it, and the invitation comes out all awkward and reluctant. He’s not very confident because he seriously doubts it will work. After all, Yagi did turn down his offer of drinks that one time. Why would he agree now? To Aizawa’s surprise, the tall man’s face lights up like a goddamn Christmas tree at the mention of getting lunch together. “I’d love to! I never did buy you that drink, did I?” he exclaims. Aizawa is surprised at the sudden enthusiasm, but this time he finally lets Yagi infectious smile get to him too. His lips curl upward of their own accord. “No,” he murmurs, “I guess you didn’t.”