Her head was foggy, as if she'd been sleeping for days.
Slowly opening one eye, she recognized the sterile ceiling and the overwhelming lemony scent of disinfectants.
"…the hell happened?"
"POWERRRRRRR!"
Oh, right.
"Ugh…"
Her head hurt. Her stomach hurt. Her everything hurt. Even places she didn't know existed hurt. But it was her own fault. She had to fight Nighteye's intern, a guy whose Quirk made him untouchable. Sitting up, one hand drifting to her stomach and the other rubbing her jaw, Ryuko looked around the infirmary while wracking her brain for information. Memories between Togata's sucker punch and regaining consciousness. But she couldn't. The last thing she could remember was the uncomfortable feeling of knuckles driving themselves into her stomach and a strange violet mist.
"Damn it…" messy hair falling in front of her eyes, she looked out the window at the setting sun, "…how long was I out?"
"Six and a half hours."
She hadn't expected someone to answer.
"Give or take ten minutes," shambling into the infirmary, still resembling a walking mummy, Aizawa slid the door closed with his foot, "You were only supposed to be out for a couple of minutes, but the amount of blood in your body increased the threshold for chemicals to take effect," he stopped near Recovery Girl's desk, "By the time you finally succumbed to Midnight's Quirk, the cameras were forced to cut away from her. Needless to say, she wasn't exactly thrilled Cementoss had to take over until she changed into her spare costume."
Ryuko didn't know whether to snort or laugh.
"Talk about a cheap shot," she didn't need a fancy degree to figure out why Aizawa was giving her the cold shoulder, "But unless I missed something, I didn't break any rules."
Aizawa didn't raise his voice, "Do you seriously think that's why I'm here?"
She did.
Not anymore.
"I'm here because we need to talk," in that same dull tone, he stepped closer.
That didn't mean she had to listen, "Talk? About what?"
"About why you're at UA," his frustration snatched the question from her throat, "So, until I give you permission, you're going to do nothing but listen. Got it?"
She nodded.
Which was all the permission Aizawa needed.
"I've had the pleasure of reading a police report concerning a certain 'incident' at Seiai Academy," his bloodshot eyes narrowed, "You attacked an entire class and their teacher. Even if it was self-defense, the only reason it happened was because you believed Couturier was a student at a school you didn't know existed until you ran away from home. If not for All Might going out of his way to defend you, you'd be spending the next three years in juvenile detention."
Her hands clenched in frustration.
But she clawed back the urge to tell him to shut up.
"You're not the first person to lose someone they love to a villain," the corner of her mouth twitched, "I can name seven heroes who watched a villain murder their wife, husband or child. And then taunted them about it. You're not the first to feel that pain. And despite All Might's efforts, you won't be the last," nuance was something the erasure hero understood all too well, but sometimes honesty was better, "Everyone deals with grief in their own way. Your problem is how you're dealing with it. You're bottling your emotions," she chewed her cheek hard enough to draw blood, "That isn't healthy. And what makes it worse is that you refuse to accept you need help. Which brings me to why I'm here."
She could hear every word.
Whether she wanted to or not.
"You passed the written and practical components of the entrance exam with flying colors," and he still wasn't done, "And your grades are exceptional. On paper, you're more than qualified for the hero program," she ignored the squeaky wheels of Recovery Girl's chair as Aizawa tried, failed and tried again to sit down, "The problem is your attitude. You're not as self-centered and arrogant as Bakugo. And you aren't pushing UA's honor code to the breaking point like Mineta. However, despite their significant character flaws, they both want to be at UA. They both want to be heroes. You, on the other hand, don't. You've said so yourself. So, again, why are you here?"
She tried blocking his voice.
But it was impossible.
"If it were up to me, I'd suspend you from the hero program," his disappointment was palpable, "Unfortunately, the crowd enjoyed your 'match' too much for that to be an option."
How he sounded annoyed and bored at the same time left her head reeling.
"So, for the moment, suspending you would be far more trouble than it's worth," sarcasm dripped from Aizawa's existence, "The last thing I need is UA's board of directors breathing down my neck."
Ryuko could feel his annoyance.
"Instead," and she instinctively leaned away, "I'll give you some advice."
It was awkward as hell.
"You have talent. And a Quirk people would give anything to have. But talent and strength aren't enough to earn the right to be called a hero. Or a provisional license," he emphasized the last two words, "So, either get your act together and figure out where you want to go…or drop out of the hero program and find something else to do. It's your call."
A minute passed in silence.
And then another.
"Oh, right," Aizawa blinked owlishly, "You can talk now."
She didn't need his freaking permission.
"…you're an ass, you know that?" that might not have been the best thing to say to someone who wanted to kick her out of UA, but it was the most honest thing she could say.
"Not what I expected a student on the verge of suspension to tell their teacher, but at least you're being honest," it was hard to tell if Aizawa was upset or amused. And the bandages didn't help, "Well, now that you've gotten that out of your system, you'll find a change of clothes on the desk over there," he swiveled just enough to look at said table, "Get dressed, go home and think about what you want to do. You have two days to get your head on straight," taking her silence as proof she was listening, he awkwardly managed to push himself out of the chair, "If you still don't know why you're at UA, don't bother coming back."
She watched him walk away.
She watched him bump his leg against Recovery Girl's desk.
"Hey!"
The linen blanket flew across the room as she scrambled out of bed, "There's something I gotta know."
"Let me guess," Aizawa sounded more sarcastic than normal, "You want to know who won the sports festival."
"Yeah," the lowering sun cast orangish-red light across the room, "I was kind of drugged for most of it."
Aizawa stared at her.
She stared back harder.
"Are you that interested?" her silence spoke louder than words ever could, "Alright, if you insist, although you'll probably be able to watch everything once you get home," a familiar exhaustion steadily crept back into his posture, "Everyone in the hero program made it to the second event. Except for you, of course. There was also a girl from the support program and two students from general department."
"Mako?"
"Was she that girl you were talking with before embarrassing yourself on national television?" when she nodded affirmatively, Aizawa rolled his eyes, "Then yes, your friend finished the obstacle course in dead last. She didn't qualify for the finals, but she really gave Bakugo a run for his money. It's very confusing, but she somehow snatched one of his headbands in plain view."
Her head tilted sideways.
That sounded like Mako.
But pulling off something like that against Bakugo was just… weird.
"Todoroki, Uraraka, Bakugo and Tokoyami were the final four competitors in the one-on-one tournament," her eyes grew vacant as her brain worked overtime processing everything that happened while she was drugged and unconscious, "Bakugo beat Tokoyami while Uraraka almost managed to ring-out Todoroki. As for the final match," Aizawa stared off into space, "In all honesty, it could have gone either way, but in the end, Bakugo knocked Todoroki out of bounds."
A fly buzzed around her head.
"So…" she gingerly tested the waters, "…how's Bakugo handling winning?"
"About as well as expected."
Her teacher's voice was so flat she momentarily believed he was joking, "So, if you decide to stick with the program, you might want to prepare for that."
"Wait! I have another question!"
The floor was cold, "How did Tsu do?"
"She placed sixteenth overall," Aizawa shrugged while somehow sliding open the door with his foot, "She probably could have reached the quarter-finals if Todoroki hadn't been her opponent. Oh, that reminds me. If you're not in the mood to talk to reporters, I'd recommend not leaving through the front entrance."
Ryuko said nothing as her bastard of a homeroom teacher slouched out the door and back to whatever hole he'd crawled out of.
"…what I want to do?"
It was a stupid question. She knew what she wanted to do! She wanted…her thoughts screeched to a crashing halt. For as long as she could remember, she'd wanted to be a teacher or a doctor. It's what she told her dad. And it's what she told her guidance counselors no matter how many times they'd 'mentioned' how useful her Quirk would be if she were a pro hero. But now? She still didn't want to be a hero, but after everything that happened, her dreams felt distant, like they were from an entirely different lifetime. Couturier still needed to pay for taking away her dad. But what was she going to do afterwards? Go back to school? Go to college and get a degree? Or would she just keep going and be a hero? This wasn't the life she wanted.
And it wasn't the life she chose.
But it was the life she had.
Clenching and relaxing her fingers, eyes staring at the floor in front of her toes, Ryuko suddenly backtracked.
"Wait? Reporters?"
