The more she thought about it, the deeper the pit in Momo's stomach sank. It seemed both completely impossible and too plausible all at once. The thoughts shouldn't have been capable of coexisting together, yet they did in perfect harmony, much to her despair. It was Schrodinger's teacher.
Mr. Aizawa couldn't possibly be Danchou. He was a Pro Hero after all, and that should be enough for her to dismiss the idea from her head entirely. He didn't have that dark charisma that Danchou had had. Furthermore, he hadn't behaved out of the ordinary to any degree in the days that followed. She had returned to her every day life and it was as though everything carried on the way it normally did, and she (with Mina and Ochako) were the only ones affected. There had been no tell that she should even consider the impossibility that Mr. Aizawa was Danchou.
Except that one singular sentence. "You have no business with children," he had said. And the combined with timbre of his voice, the way he levied those words, it had sent her right back to that basement with Danchou's face obscured by smoke. That single moment had utterly convinced her that somehow, beyond any shadow of a doubt, Shouta Aizawa was Danchou. He came into class every day with the intention of sleeping through the morning — was it because he had been awake most of the night? When he awoke for the second half of the day, he was commanding and strict, the same as Danchou. She caught herself listening carefully to his every word, analyzing it against her memory until she was no longer certain that the voice in her memory was the same, or whether trauma had replaced the memory with Mr. Aizawa's.
The next question that came to her was difficult, and she struggled to bring herself to tackle it. How could she prove it? If she were to accuse Mr. Aizawa of being — God, it sounded ridiculous even to herself still — a Yakuza Oyabun, she needed to be absolutely certain. There would be no room for error and to levy such a hefty, serious accusation at her own teacher would need evidence. But how to get it? She dwelled on that.
A pencil rapped loudly on her desk in front of her, and Momo's spine straightened and her head snapped around, her mind going blank. Mr. Aizawa stood looming over her desk, lips pursed in a frown. His arms were still in bandages from the injuries he'd suffered at U.S.J., but he wasn't in full casts anymore, and the pencil he held between his fingers was still quivering from the reverberation of its tapping. She realized then that everyone was looking at her.
"Ms. Yaoyorozu," he commented gruffly now that he had her attention. "What is one of the Articles regarding support companies?"
"Uh—" She bit her lip. "Support companies must be licensed by the government to create and maintain Hero support equipment."
"Iida already said that, so I guess that confirms you weren't paying attention. What's another?"
His dark eyes stared down at her, waiting for her answer, and Momo mentally flailed under his gaze. Could he really be Danchou? How did he keep his cool when he looked up to see his henchman bringing in three of his own students? Did he really want "no business" with children, or had he just protected them because they were his students? Had he worried at all when they'd asked to go to the police station the next day? Why would a Pro Hero masquerade around as an Oyabun? Or, rather, why would an Oyabun masquerade around as a Pro Hero?"
The sharp tapping of the pencil made her wince. Mr. Aizawa's frown had deepened.
"Ms. Yaoyorozu, are you with us?" he asked, his lips turned downward and pressed together in a thin line, and she blushed hotly. She heard Bakugo snicker.
"Hero gear can only be altered by the support companies," she offered at last.
"Good. Stay after the bell so I can talk to you."
He tapped the pencil against her desk several times more before moving on with his absent pacing around the room. Momo stared at his back, watching his every movement intently, waiting for the one thing that would give him away as Danchou. Was there a lingering scent of cigarettes to him? Not that she could detect. This was insanity. Mr. Aizawa was a Pro Hero. It was absolutely daft of her to even consider that he might be the man known as Danchou.
And yet...
And yet...
"Earth to Ms. Yaoyorozu."
Momo startled hard and gasped aloud, her entire body jerking in surprise. She shut her textbook quickly, looking up. Mr. Aizawa was leaning against the desk to her left, bandaged arms hanging at his sides and surveying her with calculation and suspicion.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, feeling how warm her face was with embarrassment.
And yet she couldn't help but look at him with suspicion of her own. She'd never really accounted for how tall Mr. Aizawa was before. When Danchou had stood to raise that screwdriver, what height had the red end of the cigarette been? About where his mouth was? This was absurd. He couldn't be Danchou.
"As your teacher I'm obligated to ask if something is wrong," he said flatly and sans amusement. Had he always been this intimidating, or was it only because she might have reason to fear him now?
"I'm sorry," she said again, dropping her gaze. "I'm fine."
"I seldom hear that statement told honestly. You can tell me, or I can make contact with your parents."
She felt the color drain from her face at the suggestion. She still hadn't told her parents about what happened and, after this long, she doubted there was any appropriate way to tell them that wouldn't result in repercussions for her. But if Mr. Aizawa told them that she was acting strangely in class, her father wouldn't let up until he knew everything.
"I really am fine," she insisted, "I've just been dwelling on what happened at U.S.J.,"
"Ah." It was a bold-faced lie, and a terrible one to make to the man who had most of the major bones in his body broken while he defended them, but he seemed to accept it. He lowered his head and gave a nod of understanding. "Are you reconsidering whether you want to be at UA?"
"No, I'm not. Just that was my first encounter with real villains, and I feel like my ability was inadequate."
More lies, and when he asked her to detail what had happened in the Mountain Zone at U.S.J., the guilt she felt only deepened. She was lamenting about the experience when he'd suffered a hundred fold what she had that day, for the sake of hiding her suspicions about him. He had been pushed to the brink with his ability, and through it all, even when his suffering had been paramount, he had still managed to erase Shiguraki's quirk to save Asui. There had not been a single moment that he had not put the safety of his students first, and she dared to believe that he might be a villain. Not just a villain, but a Yakuza Oyabun. She was being ridiculous.
And yet...
She could put this entire business about Mr. Aizawa being a Yakuza boss out of her head and be done with it. It might come back every now and again in the future, but she could laugh it off as a child's baseless conspiracy theory. It was only his phrasing that had triggered her, it was only a figment of her imagination that led her to believe their voices had been anything alike. That had been the trauma talking. When she was an old woman with grandchildren she would regale them with the story of the time she thought that her Pro Hero teacher was Yakuza, and the entire family would laugh at the silliness of it. She could turn her back on his idea and never look back.
And yet—
"Like I said, I'm fine," she finished at last. "I really am. It was just so unexpected. Nowhere feels safe anymore, even at UA."
"Well, you don't need to worry about that," he reassured her. "UA is safe, and every teacher at this school would risk their lives to keep every student here safe, without concession."
"But they hurt you so badly."
"I'll be fine. Another visit to Recovery Girl and I'll be as good as new. All you need to do right now is focus on the Sports Festival."
Momo nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Now get out of here before I have to write a note to Present Mic."
She rose to her feet and gathered her textbooks into her arms, leaning forward in a slight bow. Mr. Aizawa inclined his head in return then turned away from her, giving her his back as he retreated back to the front of the room. He lowered into his chair and kicked his feet up onto the desk, reclining back and closing his eyes. She wondered, absently, whether his legs were still bandaged under his pants. Momo ducked her head and left the classroom.
"Everything okay?"
"Oh! Shoto, you didn't have to wait for me," she said as Shoto Todoroki pushed himself away from the wall and shifted the backpack slung over his shoulder.
"It's nothing. We're expected in Present Mic's class, let's go."