Sometimes ya just gotta get a good cry out, ya know?

Pt 3: Crying

Aizawa had accepted that he wasn't always the best choice when it came to consoling a crying person. Regardless, if it's a civilian, a mutual coworker, one of his partners, or a student. If they needed some sagely wisdom (Yamada's words, not his) or a good kick in the ass with some hard truths (Nemuri's words, not his) he was the one to choose, sure. But when it was just a simple consoling, distraction, an attempt to laugh them out of it, or a shoulder to cry on… he wasn't it. On his good days he could get a laugh with his own dry wit, but that was as far as he felt he could be of use.

Even then, his dry wit was a coin toss.

Depending on the context of the tears, he could find the appropriate person. In terms of UA staff, sometimes Inui was the best "all around" option right before Kurose or Kan. Nemuri could handle difficult situations (so long as they weren't too serious) surprisingly well, too. Yamada was best for a good laugh to get the person to snap out of it. He'd learned after his first year that Snipe and Majima were very specific types of consolation backups. Majima was perfect for distraction and would often bring his own new gadgets or the person in question to the Support Labs. Snipe was… hit or miss. Aizawa took a gamble every time that he had to resort to Snipe. The man knew how to console someone, but he had a rather frantic streak of luck in succeeding.

He only resorted to getting someone else when he knew he couldn't handle it. Out of all the classes that he'd taught so far, with dozens and dozens of students under his belt, he had grown accustomed to figuring out quickly who needed who. It depended, person to person, of course. Snipe was never a good idea for students as rigid as Iida, but he worked well for students like Uraraka or Ashido, getting a laugh at least once out of them every time, even if in the end he had to tag out with someone else. And sometimes, his students didn't need a teacher. They needed a friend. A fellow classmate.

Aizawa had learned that typically there was a hierarchy to each class. He would start sorting them all out once he realized that the students were getting close. Forming cliques. Forming connections between one another. With the shitty first year that this current Class 1-A was getting, he had been able to figure out who to get for who and for what rather quickly. It wasn't exactly a good thing as to why he was able to, but it was definitely useful, given the class's "cliques" were rather loose.

Kirishima was a good all-rounder for anyone. The boy was a sympathetic crier, but he was always willing to listen, wouldn't betray secrets which made him an excellent confidante, and he was also always down for a quick spar if that would help. Aizawa had needed to get him a few times already. Particularly when it came to Bakugou. Bakugou would rather have his ass handed to him before he let certain individuals see him cry, so Aizawa was left with few options for him; in particular. And if Kirishima was ever crying, and he couldn't handle it, he had to figure out through context clues who would be best to get. Anyone in the "Bakusquad", plus Midoriya, was a good bet. But, he figured out after the first two months in the dorms that getting Bakugou as a default was his best bet. It had become rather apparent rather quickly that the two boys just knew each other on a personal level.

At least once, Aizawa had seen Kirishima retrieve Midoriya to console Bakugou. None of the boys ever brought it up. And Bakugou had come to him after class one day to get Inui's office hours. Aizawa didn't pry. It was safer to leave Bakugou to his thoughts until Inui got a hold of him. If he brought it up at the wrong time it would only cause Bakugou to give up the endeavor entirely. Possibly for days, if not weeks.

Midoriya would have been a good "default" option if Kirishima was unavailable, but Midoriya and Bakugou had a weird relationship that he still didn't fully understand. He'd accepted that he probably never would, either. So, it fell to Kirishima. And he got Kirishima fast, if only because Bakugou could be volatile at the most typical of times; so, coming across him in tears was like walking onto a mine field. Kirishima, with a Quirk like his, was really the only one suited to deal with Bakugou when he was crying and feeling defensive. Because a defensive Bakugou was an explosive Bakugou. A "spontaneously spar without it really being a spar, and no, I don't care where we are" kind of Bakugou. Mostly because Bakugou literally couldn't hurt Kirishima when his Quirk was active; so, if the blonde wanted to throw a tantrum, he could do so with no fear.

When it came to other students, the process was much the same. Students like Jiro, Kaminari, Sero, Tokoyami, Todoroki, and Shoji weren't good at consoling others. Unless it was a civilian, and then suddenly they were experts. Aizawa was grateful for that, though, so he really couldn't complain.

Midoriya was a chronic crier. It wasn't really a matter of when or where he was crying, but why. He cried when he was sad, when he was mad, when he was happy—Aizawa had to ask every time he came across him. Most of the time, he just asked Midoriya who he wanted. If nothing else, the boy knew who worked. Most often it was Uraraka or Iida. Rarely, it was Bakugou. Aizawa had questioned it the first time. Midoriya had remained silent, looking up at him with such pleading eyes that he felt like he deserved a prison sentence for questioning the request.

He had gotten Bakugou up to Midoriya's room within five minutes.

And now, he was sat in his apartment room in the dorms, with tears running down his face. Yamada and Nemuri were both on missions, Inui, Ishiyama, Majima, and Kurose were all monitoring dorms and weren't free for at least another hour. Nedzu was out of the question. Chiyo was on call at a local hospital on voluntary work. Everyone else was on patrol. And he was not calling ANY of them back early. He had already had dinner with the kids, everyone was set up and ready to do their studies and various activities, and he just needed them to stay sane for an hour.

He was angry more than sad. He knew exactly what had happened. The trigger had been a very specific sound when a plate had fallen. Typically, ceramic breaking on the floor didn't force a memory recall. Perhaps it had just been a while since the last time he'd heard breaking plates. Maybe his exposure therapy had worn down over time, if that was even something that could happen. Maybe it was a combination of his lack of sleep lately, mounting stress, and the piss poor first year experience that led to a mental weakness. He could debate it with himself all day.

What mattered was that it brought back the god damn diner experience from his early days as an intern, and he loathed it. He'd already rode out the initial reaction to the sudden memory. He'd already had the memory play out in his head, after he'd made his way swiftly up the stairs in a reflex to get away, and he could only hope that no one thought it worthy of investigation.

He wasn't ashamed of it—Inui and his personal therapist had worked hard to make sure he knew he didn't. He just didn't know how he would explain it. He unfortunately knew that many of them, if not all of them, might be dealing with PTSD attacks related to the USJ incident for years if not their whole lives. He was just grateful that they could still enter the building after such a short time period. He could still see Asui's face right before he'd pushed his Quirk past its limit to stop that handsy bastard from touching her with any affect. He'd woken up in the hospital and almost clocked the nurse because that was still the last thing he could remember.

He doubted he was ever going to be able to enter that diner again, though. It hadn't been the first death he witnessed; it was just the first one that happened in his arms.

He hadn't even realized that he hadn't really been aware of the room around him until a voice finally penetrated his thoughts, and his vision returned. He turned to see Asui kneeling to be eye level with him, his apartment dorm's door open. He'd sat on the end of the bed the moment he had come in and hadn't moved past raising his head out of his palms at some point.

Asui sat beside him.

"Are you alright, sensei?"

"Yes, I'm alright."

"…Do you need a hug?" Asui asks. Aizawa huffed out a laugh, raising his arm. Asui wasted no time in wrapping her arms around him. He rested his arm over her shoulders, resting his palm on her head.

"Thanks."

Asui nodded, squeezing him a little tighter.

"You're always making sure we're okay. We want to make sure you're okay, too, sensei."

Aizawa tried not to think about how that just made him want to cry harder. He rested his head on hers with a sigh, instead. "I know. I appreciate it, Asui."

Asui was silent for a long moment until Aizawa patted her head. She released him, though hesitantly, and stood. She fiddled with her hands for a moment before looking back at him.

"Sensei, if you need one of us, we're all going to help," she stressed. "Every single one."

"…" Aizawa stood, running his hand through his hair. "How about a movie night?"

"I'll get everyone ready, kero."

Asui made her way back downstairs briskly, phone out and texting as she went. Aizawa rubbed away whatever tears were still staining his cheeks. He grabbed his pillow and the blanket, contemplating a moment if he should try dragging the mattress down this time, but thought better of it. There were plenty of thick blankets to pile one atop the other to make a good enough substitute for anyone who took up the floor this time. All of them huddled in the common room in little nests on the chairs, the couch, and the floor as the movie would play.

He couldn't think of a better way to feel right again.