Shota had been preparing for what struggles his students would face for some time. He'd had to - knowing that before the year was out, they'd see more action than anyone could have imagined. He'd spent countless nights falling asleep at his desk with sheets of paper scattered in front of him, eyes dry and sore from staring into the darkness of his apartment. He'd written countless proposals, documents, and suggestions. He'd scrawled half formed sentences in his sleep on whatever was nearby, including the sleeve of a shirt he'd tossed onto the floor after a particularly long day.
He'd always known the time would come to present his plans and ideas to the parents and faculty of his kids, which was the entire point of planning ahead. He knew all of this, but still. He couldn't help the slight tremble in his hands and the wild pounding of his heart. Each parent had filed into a large auditorium, and the teachers who worked alongside him stood nervously around the edge of the room. Nezu stood just beside him, arms folded delicately across his chest, nose twitching as each parent settled into their seats.
Sakura had been one of the first, and Shota was glad to see her face in the front row. Her gentle smile would be a great comfort to him, even though she likely didn't realize it. Her hair curled around her face, feet crossed delicately in front of her. She had a relaxed demeanor about her, but he knew her well enough to know that she'd barely slept a wink since Emiko was rescued, and judging by the darkness under her eyes and the grey cast to her skin, she hadn't been eating well either. His heart tightened in his chest - he could understand why Emiko wasn't speaking to her. In fact, he'd told her that in one of their emails. Sakura hadn't taken kindly to that, and had shown up at his apartment in her pajamas to yell at him, perfectly manicured finger wagging in his face.
"Good Evening, everyone." Nezu spoke, drawing attention to him as the final parent settled in. "Thank you for making the trip to campus and for allowing us to speak in this way."
A few of the parents grumbled, tucking their hands tighter to their sides and rolling their eyes. Shota had known they wouldn't be happy about this meeting, especially so soon after agreeing to allow their children to move out of their homes. Originally, Shota had wanted to send them a letter or an email outlining everything to them - until Nezu reminded him that they had a right to have their opinions heard as the parents of these children.
"As you all know, UA has been caught in the crossfire of something we couldn't have imagined. Villains have been growing more bold, and have taken to committing their wrong doings right under our noses. We have done what we believe is best, by bringing your children here. By giving them a safe place to stay, under our watchful eye. We thank you for continuing to trust us with your children, even when we have faltered."
Shota took a deep breath, pressing himself up and out of his chair. He swung his gaze around the room, studying the faces of the kids he called his own.
"I'm your children's homeroom teacher. I see them every single day, and I have worked with all of them during this year." He paused, "You all have raised some incredible children. You should be proud."
A few smiles burst through the crowd at that, including one face right in front of him. Sakura beamed brightly, even though he'd told her before just how proud she should be of Emiko and of herself for raising a child such as Emiko.
"I feel a grave responsibility for your children, and I'm so sorry that I have failed you and those kids. There are no words to describe the regret I feel at failing them - I swore to protect them and I didn't and that is something I have to live with every day of my life."
Each parent waited with baited breath, eyes glued solely to the figure at the front of the room. His shoulders were pulled back and his face didn't show any emotion - but to those who knew him well they could see the tears of frustration pooling around his eyes, they could see the exhaustion clinging to the ends of his eyelashes, dragging his eyes down towards the floor.
"I didn't call you here to make excuses," Shota continued, reaching down to pull out a handful of papers. Sheets upon sheets of ideas, ways to keep these kids safe. "So without any more rambling, I have a few ideas on how to protect them and their wellbeing."
—-
All in all, the meeting had gone well. For the most part the parents had been receptive to his ideas, especially when he mentioned bringing in on site therapists for those who felt it necessary. It was a tense encounter no doubt, but one he was glad to have behind him. Now, as he stood watching the parents walk out of the room chattering amongst themselves, he could breathe. He slumped into his seat again, resting his head against the palm of his hands. Exhaustion settled in, deep in his bones.
"Shota?"
He lifted his head, bringing his gaze to the ethereal woman in front of him. Concern line her face as she bent down to him, her hands moving to rest on his knees.
"Are you okay?" Sakura whispered, brushing her thumb slowly across his knee.
"Mm." He mumbled, letting his eyes shut slightly. "Just tired."
"When was the last time you slept, you idiot?" She was laughing a little, though her thumb kept moving it's concerned path across his knee.
"I dunno. A few days maybe. I think I got 2 hours last night." He yawned, eyes watering slightly. If he was honest about it, he hadn't had more than an hour of sleep straight in the past few weeks - not since his kids came back from the camp.
"Jesus, Shota. How have you lived this long?" She was harsher in her deliverance this time, her words laced with irritation and concern. "Let's go."
She stood quickly, yanking her hand off of his knee. He opened his eyes slowly, watching her stand. She extended her hand down to him, waiting impatiently for him to take it. He grasped her fingers with his, allowed her to tug him to his feet gently. She nearly stumbled backwards in her heels, unused to the weight of a fully grown man tugging her off balance.
"Ugh," She grunted under his weight, though he didn't miss the way she laughed under her breath at his antics. He wasn't normally this playful or relaxed, but they both had known each other for so long that there were few things they didn't know about one another at this point.
"Sorry, sorry."
"It's fine," she sighed dramatically, "let's just get you home, yeah?"
He nodded, stepping towards the door to the auditorium with her fingers still tightly grasped in his. She was smirking slightly as she allowed herself to be tugged along behind him, only a half step behind despite their height difference.
"Shota?" Her voice rung out into the cool night air as the front doors closed behind them, "Thank you."
His brow quirked slightly, swinging his exhausted gaze down to the dark haired woman beside him. "For what?" He asked, guilt and remorse still swirling in his stomach from Emiko's incident.
"For taking care of her when I can't." Sakura smiled sadly, folding her hand into the crease of his elbow, and Shota tried to pretend his stomach didn't flip at the casual way she touched him. "She's really, really lucky to have you."
"Uh-" He tried to answer, but she squeezed his arm slightly.
"They all are, Shota." Sakura smiled, turning her gaze to the stars glittering overhead. "I know it hasn't been easy for you, nor has it been easy for the staff here. I know that you're all doing your best, and I trust you implicitly. You know that, right?"
He only nodded, following her gaze to the star filled sky above them, trying to fight off the tears that threatened to spill over. He'd just felt so… guilty. So lost and confused, because he hadn't been able to keep any of them safe. Not one of those kids had left the woods that night without some form of trauma, and that was ultimately on him. He knew Kaminari had been having nightmares and he knew that Izuku had been working himself nearly to the bone. He'd seen Yaoyorozu and Jirou crying quietly on the couch in the common living space, and he could only imagine the pain Bakugo was feeling. If he knew anything about the kid, he'd be blaming the entire fiasco on himself for not being strong enough and-
"Where'd you go, Sho?" Sakura paused, pulling her hand from the crook of his elbow and standing in front of him, her hair floating around her face in the cool night air. "You disappeared for a second there on me."
He shook his head, unable to find the right words. "I'm right here."
She scowled, and he nearly burst into laughter. Of course she'd realized he was lying, something she'd been able to do even without her quirk for as long as she'd known him. Ever since the first month of school, she'd read him like a book, just as she had every other person in their grade regardless of their program. That had been one of the reasons Shirakumo had been drawn to her - he'd said she had the eyes of a hawk and the heart of a golden retriever, which he claimed were the ideal qualities to have in a woman.
"Sorry," he allowed for a brief pause, inhaling deeply. "I've just been so caught up in them, you know? What happened was a direct result of mine and the rest of the faculties inability to protect them - which is my entire job when it comes to it. Teaching them, mentoring them, all of that comes second to keeping them safe and I couldn't even do that."
As much as he hated to admit it, the tears pooling in his eyes weren't from the yawn that burst from his chest, but were instead a byproduct of his circumstance. He was tired of blaming himself for something nobody could have predicted, but he knew if he didn't then nobody would. UA could only take so much heat in the media for allowing their students to get kidnapped before the parents decided to remove their students - and not just from the hero course.
"Hey." Sakura scolded, folding her arms across her chest. "Look at me right now, Shota Aizawa."
Begrudgingly he swung his gaze to hers, taking in the way her eyes seemed to glow under the night stars, the moon reflecting in the deep pools of blue he'd seen in his dreams more times than he cared to count. Her brows were furrowed slightly and her cheeks were flushed from the cool air kissing her skin. She was beautiful, always had been.
"You can't keep doing this, Shota. You know that, right?"
"What?"
"You're going to work yourself to death and I'm going to have to watch it happen because you're too stubborn to listen to me for more than 5 minutes at a time." There was no laughter in her voice this time, and Shota knew she was serious. The soft cadence of her voice had hardened, cutting like steel through the exhaustion and forcing him to listen.
"You keep coming up with all of these ideas to protect the kids, and that's great. I'm so thankful that you care so much about them, especially because my own flesh and blood is in your care, and there is nobody in the entire world I trust her with more than you,"
She was wringing her hands, a sure sign that anxiety was flooding through her. Emiko had learned that very same habit from the woman in front of him, and much as the pair may hate to admit it, they were cut from the very same cloth.
"But you also have to take care of yourself, Shota. Working yourself this hard isn't healthy. Not sleeping isn't like you - and we're worried. The people who care about you? Mic, Nemuri, Nezu? Me? We're all so worried about you that it's making us sick. You matter to us just as much as those kids matter to you, so please. Please, Shota, start taking care of yourself."
Her eyes were pleading with him to listen, to take what she was saying and begin making the changes she knew were the right thing. He knew she was right, that he hadn't been taking care of himself or his needs for so long he wasn't sure he even remembered how to do it. For weeks he'd just woken up, checked on the cat, brushed his teeth and headed out the door to do his rounds. It was exhausting, sure, but he knew that someone needed to do it.
"As much as this is gonna bruise your ego, Shota, you have to hear it. You cannot bear the weight of the world on your own, just as you cannot force these children to become whole again. You have to be patient with them, give them time and space to heal and grow and learn." She was crying now, the tears leaving dark streaks from her mascara on her cheeks. Shota longed to run his thumb under her eyes, to swipe away the sadness pouring out from her just as he had for every year in nearly two decades. She had always been a weakness for him, a soft spot on an otherwise hardened heart, and this was no exception.
"Okay, Sakura. Okay." He interrupted, bending slightly at the waist and resting his head on her shoulder. "I promise I'll take better care of myself. For them, and for those who care for me."
Sakura didn't answer, choosing instead to let her hands skim up and down his back, each of their ragged breaths mixing together, softening with each passing moment. It didn't matter how long they stood there just existing peacefully, for when they separated and began their walk to her car, Shota felt more relaxed than he had in weeks.
