Chapter 4
Kyouka Jirou
She releases a strained groan, a hand rubbing on the back of her neck as her footsteps echo down the empty hallway. The emptiness is to be expected as the students are all in class right now even though the day is coming to an end. She feels how taut her muscles are under the skin. Her Heroics class had just finished training and it had been gruesome (though not as gruesome when Mr. Aizawa is leading it, even on his best days).
She's aware of the strain she is putting on her body, and her mind. She had made a promise to herself that she would get better. The past month, she has been pushing herself out from her comfort zone, way beyond than ever before. She's dangerously testing her limit.
It's something Mr. Aizawa is expecting from her, something she knows he would be proud of when he sees the amount of progress she had made. And what an astounding progress it was. She is proud of what she has accomplished. She had gone beyond, Plus Ultra.
Speaking of Mr. Aizawa, he wasn't there during their training earlier. It's not unusual for him; he can appear and not appear whenever he wants, but she wants him to be there, to witness their progress, her progress. She always feels motivated when he is around, having that feeling of wanting to meet his high expectations and probably get one of his very rare appraisals.
Well, he'll get the news of their progress after All Might relays them to him later.
She wonders curiously where he is right now. Knowing Mr. Aizawa, he could either be in the lounge finishing some paperwork or is back at the dorm to start another set of paperwork because her homeroom teacher is a workaholic.
She believes he doesn't have a partner, being married to his work.
She turns the corridor that leads her to the toilet but she quickly stops in her tracks. Then she immediately hides back around the corridor, pressing her back against the wall.
She then carefully peeks out.
Mr. Aizawa is walking out of the library room, following a pink haired girl; she thinks that girl is a second year. They turn towards each other and the girl bows her head in gratitude. When she straightens up, her mouth is moving. She quickly plugs in her jacks to listen.
"-nk you for giving me extra lessons, Mr. Aizawa," she hears the girl starts with her voice polite but kind.
"It's nothing," she hears Mr. Aizawa replies while scratching the back of his neck. The pink haired girl smiles up at him with an insurmountable amount of softness in her snowflake-shaped pupils. She knows that look, intimately familiar with it.
It's the same look she herself gives Mr. Aizawa.
She knows what that look means, the fondness in it.
Why does the second year have that look on her face?
Then, Mr. Aizawa suddenly puts one of his hands into his pocket and produces out a juice box that she had never seen before. She notices how the girl lights up at the sight of it as Mr. Aizawa gives it to her.
"You are always so kind, Mr. Aizawa," she hears the girl says, her tone gone soft as she takes the drink from Mr. Aizawa's hand. She looks down at it, holding it delicately as if it would break if she just breathed wrong. "You always know what we like."
She unplugs her jacks from the wall, effectively cutting off the eavesdropping. She turns away from the pair. Then she walks away quickly and silently to the dorms; she'll use the toilet there anyway.
On the way, she ignores the pang in her chest.
.
She releases a sigh as she drops onto her bed, bladder relieved and feeling refreshed after a good showering. Unfortunately, neither soothes the pang in her chest. It continues to throb; while not painful, it's annoying and embeds very deeply. Ignoring it is impossible.
The second year's words echo in her mind: "You always know what we like."
She doesn't know that student, at least not personally. She never knew that Mr. Aizawa knew her before. Not only that, they seem close, or at least as close as Mr. Aizawa gets with students. And knowing her teacher, that is an incredible feat to have.
She knows Mr. Aizawa's way of showing he cares; not entirely but she has the general ideas. It took her quite a while to see it, to see his hidden caring nature; she bets she is among the last to see it in her class. Mr. Aizawa masters the art of subtlety and that is how he shows he cares. Very few times where he outright displays his affection for them.
The pink haired girl had received a rare public display of his affection. Mr. Aizawa even cares about her enough to know what she likes, judging by the words the girl had spoken.
She releases another sigh, a forlorn one this time. She pulls her legs to her chest and buries her nose into her knees.
She wonders if Mr. Aizawa knows what his class likes, if he knows what her classmates like. She wonders if Mr. Aizawa even knows what she likes. Had he been paying attention to them like how he had paid attention to the second year enough to know her favourite drink and brought it to her personally? Are they as close to him as the second year? Will he ever do such things to them like how he had done to the pink haired girl?
…Does Mr. Aizawa cares about her like how he cares about the second year?
She curls tighter.
It really bums her out.
Then, she hears a knock on her door, startling her out from her mind. She looks up to it, wondering who is looking for her at this moment. Dinner won't start in an hour from now, so she knows it's none of her friends.
"Jirou?"
Her heart skips a beat.
Mr. Aizawa.
"Come in," she calls out after making sure she is wearing something decent. The door swings open and her homeroom teacher slips in. "Mr. Aizawa, is there something you need from me?" she asks as she uncurls and stands up from her bed.
"You aren't in trouble, calm down," he reassures her with a lazy wave of a hand. She's aware of that fact, but she relaxes nonetheless. He must've sought her out for a different reason.
"So what is it?" she asks again, now more curious than before. Mr. Aizawa doesn't answer immediately. He suddenly looks uncomfortable as he reaches up and scratches the back of his neck with one hand, closely mirroring to the earlier gesture with the second year.
Then, he sticks his other hand in his pocket before taking it back out. He then holds it out to her with palm facing up. In the middle of his hand are two strips of paper. She gives him a confused look before taking them from him and inspects closely.
She couldn't hold back the gasp that is escaping her lungs.
They are tickets for the live concert in a nearby venue. The performing band is Gojira, one of her favourite bands of all time.
"You had been working hard for the past month," Mr. Aizawa suddenly starts, pulling her attention away from the tickets. She looks up at him with wide eyes. "Your grades had shot up, you had done exceptionally well during training and Kaminari is doing well thanks to your help."
She knows that her eyes are shining right now because Mr. Aizawa had acknowledged her hard work. Not only that, he knew that it was her who had helped Kaminari even though she tried to keep it a secret.
"Of course, great work deserves a great gift," Mr. Aizawa adds, nodding towards the tickets in her hand. She looks back down at them.
Mr. Aizawa knows, because of course he does.
"How did you know?" she asks him. She had never told anyone that she loves Gojira because there is no need to preach about it (even though they are just so good) other than occasionally playing their songs in her room.
She had also never outright said anything about wanting to attend their concert. She was deeply wishing to go but was financially short. To say she was sad was underestimated but she didn't let it get in the way of her studies. She had been saving up since then but she doesn't know when the band will play around here again.
So how did Mr. Aizawa not only knows she loves Gojira but also wants to go to the concert?
"I've been listening, Jirou," he answers casually. "You're my student, especially since you moved to the dorm, so of course I have been paying attention, especially with the rise of your grade and the record breaks."
She couldn't help but feel happy when she heard those words. Mr. Aizawa had been paying attention to her, acknowledging her!
"I'm an Underground Hero; information gathering is one of his fortes," Mr. Aizawa adds as if it's the most obvious answer in the world. "And besides, I recognize their songs."
She snaps her head back up and stares at her teacher with impossibly wide eyes, much wider than ever before.
"You recognize their songs?" she asks with a tone of disbelief. Mr. Aizawa doesn't answer but she could see the mirth in his eyes (because he always expresses with his eyes). Giddiness rises in her chest as a happy smile begins to bloom on her lips. "Mr. Aizawa, you listen to Gojira too?!"
"No comment," he answers instantly with a tone suggesting he won't elaborate anymore. She finds herself pouting at the response. "I apologize for giving them to you on such a late notice, seeing that the performance is tomorrow night," Mr. Aizawa says. Checking back the tickets, he's right; it's tomorrow. "But I'll give you a pass for this one, alright?"
"Thank you, Mr. Aizawa," she says with as much gratitude as she could put into her voice as she bows. Her teacher merely hums in reply.
"Bring someone with you tomorrow," Mr. Aizawa adds. She straightens and nods her head, because it's part of UA regulations that no students should go out alone after the kidnapping not too long ago. Mr. Aizawa turns around and heads for the door. She looks down the tickets in her hand, taking in the words written. She wonders who she should bring to the concert.
Kaminari is always available for her; he always reminds her of that fact. But he had already promised Kirishima and the others for gaming night exactly tomorrow, and she doesn't want to disturb their time. There's Yaoyorozu but Gojira is a little too intense for her right now. Maybe Tokoyami? She had seen him wearing a Gojira shirt at one point.
Then, her mind flashes to the second year student from earlier, specifically what she had said.
She rushes forward and quickly grabs onto Mr. Aizawa's sleeve before he could walk out of her room. The action instantly stops him in his track. She feels his inquisitive eyes on her but she refuses to connect the eye contact, letting her eyes glue onto her hand clutching tightly on his sleeve.
"Would you… come with me tomorrow?" she asks timidly, shy. Mr. Aizawa doesn't answer but she refuses to let go of him until she gets her answer.
"Don't be late."
She lets go of his sleeve only to throw her arms around him in pure giddiness, lips stretch out into a wide grin.
Mr. Aizawa does care. He cares very much.
It makes her very happy.
.
She shouts and cheers, throwing the devil horn in the air and bangs her head up and down to the beat of the song, as she sits on Mr. Aizawa's shoulders so she could have a better seat for the view.
This is the best day of her life!