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“What if we told everyone by getting a cake and writing ‘congrats, you’re autistic’ on it.”
Aizawa shook his head at his student’s antics, “I think only you would find that funny.”
“Yeah probably. My friends always get really quiet when I mention it. Especially when I make jokes. It’s like they don’t know if they can laugh or not. Tsu laughs a bit, and so does Shoto, but Iida and Uraraka look uncomfortable.”
“They just don’t understand is all. They probably grew up in a household where mental illness, health, etcetera was a tossy subject. Or they haven’t learned otherwise.”
“Yeah. Maybe. I just wish that they could treat it like normal. Sometimes I feel like they think I’m weird.”
Shouta felt for his student. Sometimes it felt like he was a needle in a haystack. A wasp in a bee hive.
The black sheep.
“Well, you aren’t ‘normal’ are you? No one is. Everyone is different and has their own issues. One person could have bpd and the next could have cataracts. We are autistic. There is no normal.”
Izuku nodded. That was true. Ochaco has depression. Izuku is autistic. Momo has anxiety. Shoto has C-PTSD. Izuku wasn’t sure about Tsuyu or Iida, but he didn’t think they were neurotypical.
“When I think about it, none of my friends are normal.” Izuku giggles at this realization
Once again, Shouta was shaking his head.
If Shouta was being honest, none of his were either. His husband’s ADHD could give a bee hive a run for its money, and Tensei’s anxiety caused him more issues than the villains he once chased after. Not to mention Nemuri’s mental health history. Or even his own.
“Why tell everyone? Weren’t you worried before?”
“Well yeah. I just. I’m just so happy I finally have it. It makes me want to tell everyone! I want to scream it from the roofs of UA. Just like, ‘guys I was right! I’m autistic!’ just to shove it in their faces you know? My past teachers. My old bullies. I really can’t wait to tell my dad. Maybe then, he will seek out a diagnosis too.”
“Your father is autistic?”
“I think so.” Izuku paused and scratched at his chin, “We are very similar after all. He talks about analysis like I talk about heroes, and, in most cases, it comes from one of the parents.”
Aizawa nodded.
“Analysis on what?”
“Anything and everything. Heroes, Villains, characters in shows, machines, buildings, data- anything he can pick apart.”
“I bet it was nice that his special interest was a career.”
“Yeah.” Izuku seemed to halt in thought before looking up at Aizawa excitedly, “Wait, now that I think about it, do you have a special interest sensei?”
Aizawa flushed at the question.
“So, you do have one! Come one sensei, I know you want to talk about it!”
The room was quiet for only a moment before Aizawa spoke up in a quiet voice.
“Cats.”
Izuku tilted his head.
“What kind of cats?”
“All cats. Big cats' small cats. From the house cat to Jaguars.”
“Which one is your favorite? In both?”
Aizawa's eyes seemed to light up for a moment, “Uh- well I have one of them. My favorite small cat I mean. A Scottish Fold. His name is Butter. But I also have a Bengal named Cherry and a Maine Coon named Owl.”
“So, you have three?”
“Yes. But Hizashi and I compromised and he got a dog. A Toy Poodle named Peetie. He’s a little shit and antagonizes Cherry. Gets chewed up for it too. Oh- but my favorite big cat is a Pallas. Not necessarily big at all- smaller than Owl actually- but still qualified as a ‘big’ cat.”
Izuku nodded, he liked hearing about other people’s interests. Made him happy to see others happy.
It was, however, odd. Seeing Aizawa light up in a way he never had before. The hero was usually so- cold.
“Do you ever get tired?”
“Of?” Aizawa’s head tilted in confusion.
“Of masking. I know I get tired. It’s probably why I have so many meltdowns .”
“Masking for me is normal. I’m a teacher. A hero. I don’t have time to worry about that stuff.”
Izuku tilted his head, “But your mental health is important too, you know. Your life is important too.”
“W-well, it’s not like I am always masking. I do have a personal life after all. My husband sees me unmasked, as do my friends.”
“I wish we didn’t have to mask. Like ever. It would make things much easier. I wouldn’t be so traumatized,” Izuku chuckled.
“Well, yes bu-”
“But then I wouldn’t have my wonderful sense of humor.”
Aizawa chuckled and shook his head, “I think my mind missed the memo in that department.”
“I don’t think so. People just have to appreciate your humor. Present Mic seems to.”
“What do you mean?”
“The sports festival. He found your jokes funny. And if I listened closely, I could hear you laughing at his as well.”
Aizawa flushed, he hadn’t realized.
“I see.”
“It makes me happy to see you and Present Mic happy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t know. I feel like if you were able to find someone, I can too. I have a lot of trouble connecting with people. There are days when my friends don’t feel like friends like there’s no emotional relationship feeling? If that makes sense? It- it makes me feel like a bad friend, but I know I’m not!” Izuku said quickly, covering up what he said before Aizawa could get onto him.
“It’s just been like that my entire life. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to have something more.”
The subject itched a fact Aizawa knew in the back of his mind.
Aizawa scratched his chin, “Doesn’t Uraraka like you?”
Izuku blushed, “H-how did you know that?!”
Aizawa sighed, “Nemuri- uh- Midnight, is a huge gossip. The teacher's lounge is never dull. But anyway, Uraraka?”
“Oh god. Um- she told me how she felt a few months ago and it did not. Go. Well. Her telling me resulted in me saying ‘oh my god’ and then she started crying and then I started crying, and-” Izuku sighed, “by the end of it, it was very awkward for the next few weeks. She didn’t talk to me for like a week and I do not blame her. If I could go back in time and change my reaction I would.”
“I don’t think you reacted necessarily wrong,” Aizawa was sweating. He did not mean to get himself trapped in a conversation about crushes. Not with his student.
“I think you just reacted in the only way you knew how.”
Aizawa thought back to how he and Hizashi first got together. Awkward. Tense. Both third years. Hizashi had been in a few relationships, ones lasting from a week to eight months. Shouta however, the young man had never held hands with someone, much less dated someone. Everything was new.
Shouta had thought that skin was clammy and gross. The idea of holding hands with someone had made him cringe. He was glad he wasn’t too sound sensitive though; it would have been a shame to have to tell Hizashi to be quieter.
“But surely there could have been a better way. I just feel bad.”
Aizawa shrugged, “Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re wrong. But what happened, happened and you can’t change that. So why worry about it? Things aren’t weird anymore, are they?”
“Well, no. I guess not.”
“Then, good. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Izuku nodded and looked up at his teacher in thought.
He swallows roughly, “Thank you for helping me. You’ve done more for me than any other adult has. More than any of my teachers. More than my mentor. More than even my own mother. And- and you didn’t have to, but you did. So, thank you.”
Aizawa froze, unsure how he should respond.
“I- Of course. You’re my student, and you’re important to me. While our situations are different, I can see myself in you. You deserve the support system I wish I had.”
Izuku smiled sweetly, “I’m sorry you didn’t have that.”
Aizawa reached over and ruffled the kid’s hair, “Don’t worry about me, I have it now.”
Izuku chuckled and shook the hero’s hand out of his hair.
“But what made you come here instead of to the cafeteria with your friends?”
“I don’t know. I think I just wanted to talk to you today. I’m also avoiding All Might. We haven’t really spoken about what happened a few weeks ago- or spoken much in general because I have been avoiding him, so like,” Izuku sighs, “yeah.”
“What is he to you? I mean- you both always seem to be having private meetings or interacting with each other. And based on how he acted at the beginning of the year, I would say that you two knew each other before school started.”
“R-remember how I said I was a late bloomer?”
“Yes, I remember, the entrance exam, right?”
Izuku nodded, “Under the impression that I would have-”
Izuku hated lying to him. He hated lying to the man that had helped him so much. To the man that treated him better than anyone other than his parents had.
He doesn’t want to lie anymore.
Izuku stops mid-sentence.
“What I- What I told you before was a lie. I wasn’t a late bloomer, I-”
Izuku gulped and wrung his hands together.
“I was never meant to have a quirk. I have the toe joint and everything.”
Aizawa stiffened, his mind drifting to All for One.
“My quirk is called One for All, and it was given to me by All Might.”
At the look Aizawa gave him, Izuku began explaining everything slowly.
From how he was treated in middle school.
To the blurry interactions between him and All Might.
The words said to him on the roof.
Saving Kacchan.
All Might, the man who had crushed his spirit not more than thirty minutes earlier, offered Izuku the quirk of a lifetime.
The mention of the turned table interaction pinged a question in Aizawa’s mind.
“Can you tell me about the relationship you have with him? He is your mentor, right?”
Izuku nodded and began to tell him about the gifts.
His teal workout suit.
The weights that hone the hero's logo.
Izuku gulped, his breaths coming out in a forced evenness.
Why was talking about their relationship so hard?
There wasn’t anything wrong with it; he was his mentor.
The compliments his hero would give him.
You're doing fantastic, my boy.
Look at you. You’re nothing like the pathetic boy you once were.
You will be an amazing hero with my quirk.
How quickly they changed, how the man he began to love like a father turned sour. (It burned like sand in a cut.)
Do you not have control yet? I had so much hope for you.
God, you’re so incompetent. How much will you have to train?
Fifteen percent, that’s all?
The threats. (Something he was so used to he thought it was normal.)
You can’t tell anyone about One for All. I won’t hesitate to find someone who can keep their mouth shut.
You told Bakugou? I can’t believe you. I thought I could trust you with this.
No, your mother can’t know. Just imagine how disappointed she would be. Her quirkless son finally got a quirk, and he can't even control it.
You can’t just do this for me? After all, I’ve given you? You wouldn’t be in UA if it weren't for my quirk .
Don’t make me regret choosing you.
Izuku sniffed, a tear sliding down his cheek.
He hadn’t realized.
“Why am I crying? I-” Izuku laughed sadly, tears mixing with his chuckle as he held his pounding head in his hands.
Aizawa wasn’t speaking, and that made Izuku worry- why wasn’t he speaking- why-
The black-haired man was lost in his own mind.
How did he answer? How did he approach this? He didn’t want to put on his emotionless hero act- he-.
“I’m sorry he’s hurt you like this. You don’t deserve it and what he is doing is wrong. It’s your quirk, Midoriya. And while explaining your quirk, you said he can’t take it unless you let him. Wouldn’t that mean that you would have to want him to?”
Rage bubbled underneath Aizawa’s skin like magma, threatening to burst through his epidermis as molten lava, whisps of smoke clouding any positive thought he had for the retired Symbol of Peace.
Izuku gulped, “S-somehow, no matter what it is, he manages to get me to do whatever he wants Because what he said was true. I w-wouldn't be here without him. I would still be q-quirkless.”
Useless.
“So? I still think you would have made it.”
Izuku looked up at Aizawa, shock lacing his tan face.
His teacher smiled softly, “You’re one of the most dedicated students I’ve ever met. I think, that even if you stayed quirkless, you would have found a way to be here. And if not here, then you would have somewhere else. Your quirk doesn’t determine your ability, kid.”
That was it.
Izuku’s breaking point.
When the rain drops on his face became a monsoon.
He- he had never been told that.
Had never been told that he could have done it.
That he could have achieved his dreams without his borrowed quirk.
The relief he felt under his skin broke the boy into pieces, sobs raking over his body until he became nothing but a heap of tears in his teacher’s arms.
Oh, how the boy sobbed.
And oh, how the teacher raged for his broken student.