Oh, hello.
Sorry for the two year hiatus. Life is weird.
The rest of the weekend flew by. Before I knew it Monday was knocking at my door, blistering hot and sunny, as if the weather wanted to give us a cheerful high-five.
The weather could go to hell.
Nasu embodied my sour sentiments. I'd prodded his fat little body after slamming a hand against my phone alarm and received a warning growl in return, uninterested in anything I had to offer him. I took this as a sign of what was to come for the rest of the day and slouched out the door, feeling an ominous cloud of pessimism slowly accumulating above me. A thirty-minute faculty meeting before the work week was just the icing on this glorious Monday.
Sunday had been my spiritual day of rest- with no alarm set I woke up at my usual time and rolled right back over, determined to outlast the chirping robins alerting the world of dawn. Nasu and I had shared a bowl of ice cream, deeply concentrated on some dubbed American films, and virtually ignored all responsibilities until six, when I finally rolled out the lesson plans. The week was full of differentiating ethics from morality. I felt mild exhilaration, as if rising towards a great, mountainous slope; I was actually, maybe, a little excited to see their responses to the activities I had planned.
Ethics classes in college had been interesting due to the crazed emotional responses many of my peers would have, from shutting down completely when someone disagreed with their standpoint to a particular overzealous guy who'd blown the glass out of every window in the building in rage, beyond heated when the class didn't agree his desired morals should be rooted into the institution of Japan's ethics.
I shouldered my two heavy bags, keys in one hand and thermos in the other, lost in thought. Unlike the majority of my classmates, I'd never experienced one of those extreme emotional responses. Logic and level-headedness were the concepts I built my temple upon, coupled with mom's reasonable beliefs, involving everything from heroism to reproductive rights.
But...What if she was wrong?
A sudden headache pinched my forehead just as an alarm shook me of the thought spiral. I glanced at my phone resting on the passenger seat.
Reminder: PD seminar- 6 AM, UA Bus Lot A
Only one week till my PD weekend with Shota Aizawa. I shivered at the thought.
Saturday had left my mind buzzing, and I still wasn't sure it was in a positive way. The way he had left, too, didn't help me pin down where the dark enigma and I stood in terms of civility, either.
I snailed through security, equilibrium off with all my cargo, and noted the sleepy-eyed guard on duty. Had he been asked to arrive early because of the faculty meeting, too? I let out an Aizawa-esque sigh, burdened with the great weight of the world. Faculty meetings were part of teaching, sure, but who had decided on having them in the morning?
"The great symbol of peace is a morning person; didn't you know?"
I jumped, startled at the voice, and a swift hand caught the flailing arm aimed at his face. Shota Aizawa raised one thin eyebrow, peering down at me behind his unkempt hair. Had I been talking out loud?
"Oh look, your reflexes are improving," I noted, tone flat. He looked like a turtle, pulling his head further into that idiotic tape-scarf.
"They had to. Wouldn't want to lose an eye or deal with another unexplainable hand print,"
I continued my hobbled walk, fearful of tardiness. Why didn't this school have elevators? Did universal design not apply to hero academies?
"Implying you've had other, more-explainable handprints?"
He'd trailed ahead a few stairs due to my lagging pace but suddenly turned, making direct eye contact.
Aizawa raised his eyebrows once again, eyes suggestive.
My face could've been a ruby paint swatch.
"You're such an idiot," I panted, trying to hurry up the stairs, "what does that even mean?"
"I'll explain it to you when you're older," Came his smart response. My arm was tugged before a significant amount of weight was lifted from my body; Aizawa had snagged my tote, lazily tossing it over a shoulder and continuing on. One of his broad, muscular shoulders-
"So. Does that mean All Might will be at the meeting?" My voice sounded relatively normal, I thought. Nice save.
"In the flesh," Aizawa drawled. I slyly cut my eyes to his.
"Is that a note of disdain in your tone? Jealousy, perhaps?"
Aizawa snorted.
"Contempt, maybe. Our meetings used to be after school, when we were forced to be here anyway," He let out a ragged sigh as I unlocked my classroom, trailing in after me. "Now we're forced to arrive half an hour earlier while still being expected to stay the additional half hour after."
"How will we survive?" I asked wryly. He allowed my bag to land on the floor with an unceremonious thunk. I supposed I'd earned that.
"Do you know where the meeting even is?"
"Library. All the teachers, not just the hero course ones, will be in attendance."
A momentary panic rose. How many teachers were there? I picked my laptop up then sat it back down; would I need it? Were we expected to take notes? I eyed my thermos; there's no way I could go the whole half hour without a drink.
An even scarier thought occurred: What if they make the newbies introduce themselves? I paled at the prospect.
Talking in front of teenagers was one thing.
Doing so in front of twenty-plus mega superheroes was a different beast entirely.
"Chiyo,"
"What?"
He was watching me curiously.
Or rather, watching my forgotten thermos, floating in midair like a patient companion.
"Oh," Came my idiotic reply. My heart thudded and the thermos seemed to pulse along with the beat. I reached out and took hold of the looped handle, trying to regain my clearly lost calm.
"Can we just...pretend that didn't happen?"
"If that's what you want."
He was watching me, though, and not in the sleepy-eyed way of earlier. I felt my face heat under his look; there was no way he'd drop this for good.
Several agonizing moments passed and at last he shifted, burying his hands into the deep pockets of his jumpsuit before wandering into the hall. He turned left and I took this as a sign to leave my laptop, dropping the thermos to my side and following him out.
We walked in silence, side by side, back down those damned stairs only to trek towards another monstrous staircase. They don't even need a strength training class. All their legs will look like Achilles after three or four years of this place.
"What's in that?" A metal twang rang out as two slender fingers flicked my bottle. It was already only about half full. Should probably refill it before class starts.
"Hm? Just water,"
"Trying to diet with your once-a-week run, I see."
Aizawa wasn't quick enough to escape my swift punch, annoyed as he rubbed his arm.
"Mom doesn't like to go more than once a week. Besides, I barely have time anyway,"
"There's always time...for fitness," Aizawa answered seriously. My eyes rolled to their own accord.
"Do you go running every day after school?"
"Not every day, but certainly more than you. Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday if I can. Wouldn't want to fall too far behind our new all-star teachers," His eyes ran from my shoes back up to my face, expression wry. "By that I mean All Might. Not you."
"Yeah I uh, I got that," I replied, matching bluntness with sarcasm. More than anything, I was really just surprised at how chatty he was being, especially this early in the morning. Wasn't it barely a week ago he'd spat in my face about how much I didn't belong here?
What's with the mood change?
This was also the second pseudo-slam he'd put down on All Might. Is he jealous? Or is All Might really not the charming, dreamy guy everyone suspects him of being? Maybe, as a fellow hero, Aizawa was jealous of All Might's acclaim and his lack thereof.
I furtively glanced over at the rugged eraserface, pensive. He doesn't really seem the type to care about shit like that, though. Maybe he's just trying to make me feel better about the quirk usage?
"You can stop playing detective at any time now, idiot,"
My face warmed as Aizawa stopped, looking down at me in mild, irritated amusement, pressing one hand on the large wooden door suddenly in front of us. "We're here. Prepare yourself; new teachers always have to go to the front and give an "about me" presentation,"
"Shit," I hissed, popping my head inside. The room was already half-filled with menacing-looking teachers- half of which I'd never even seen before. Is that guy made out of cinder block?
Speaking in front of my kids was one thing- these people, half of which were in costume, would be like the time I'd been forced to present for a class of graduate students. I could still hear their snickering, pretentious voices beating like wings against my senses, critiquing every syllable of my speech, like some sort of pathetic-version of PTSD. I started to back up, shaking my head.
"Maybe I can just, you know, slither back into my classroom-no one would even notice-"
"But then your dream-boy All Might wouldn't get to see you again," Aizawa said helpfully. His body blocked mine from escape, firm as I walked backwards into him. I tried to make a break for it, pivoting on my heel, but the bastard was too good, easily keeping me at bay with one long arm trapping me like a seat belt. I glared up at his smug face. Clearly, someone was enjoying himself. Gotta turn this around somehow.
"That's like the fifth time you've taken a shot at him now. What's your deal?" I demanded, jabbing a finger into his chest. I squinted, throwing in a half-smirk to boot. Ever since Saturday I'd felt a tad of boldness flavor my blood, spurred both by my eventful morning with the grouchy eraser and relaxing night with Toshinori. The nagging of rules and serenity had quieted, just a fraction, and I was curious to see how far I was willing to now go outside my realm of passiveness.
It was time to test my limits once again.
I had his full attention and, though he tried not to show it, suspicion and wariness had sprouted in his eyebrows. I jabbed him again, leaving my finger twisted against his chest.
"You say it's not about All Might's fame or abilities, but every time I mention him you've got a comment. I can't help but feel my undying affection for him is maybe making you a teeny bit jealous, Shota."
Bingo.
His hair flickered like flames, unaffected by the laws of gravity, and dark eyes suddenly took on an undertone of red, anger more apparent than ever before. I fought off a shit-eating grin; if I pissed him off enough, maybe he'd even go back to his classroom, too. I wouldn't look nearly as bad if two of us bailed.
With his hair up, he looks almost as good as he did when we were running.
I swatted away the thought. I was on a mission- I couldn't afford the distraction. Aizawa was all but breathing fire, leaning down towards me. Was he...blushing? I lifted my tilting face, smile as tranquil as the Buddha.
"Careful, Chiyo, or you'll reveal your ego is just as large as your ass,"
"Oh, so you have been checking out my ass?"
Who the hell was this woman, and what had she done with the meek little shrimp version?
She probably saw herself as clever. Sensual, even. Instead she looked like a dumb little kid who thought they'd finally outtricked a grown-up. Chiyo Tsutomi smirked so crookedly he wanted to pinch her smug lips right off her imp face.
Or press his own against them- he hadn't decided.
Two urges raged against one another, polar opposites and impossibly infuriating as one was so completely tempting and ridiculous.
God, this woman was maddening.
"Kind of hard not to, when you keep landing on your face like some clumsy teenage girl every five seconds," He kept the snap out of his voice, not wanting her to realize just how deep she had already crawled under his skin. If possible, that smirk increased. She leaned up, bringing sly eyes even closer to his.
"Why wouldn't I fall, knowing you'll be around to catch me?"
Her words were like an electric shock down his spine, raising every hair on his body. Chiyo's clear eyes were on him like a fox on its prey, innocent act forgotten. Carefully he pulled his face closer to breathe a response against her pink lips.
"I'm not into the damsel in distress act, sorry. Women who can't hold their own do nothing for me."
Her eyes widened. A flash of something crossed through them, quick as lightning. She didn't pull away like when he'd burned her those few short weeks ago, more defiant this time, and the shiver from before rippled at this new, surprising moment of boldness he hadn't expected her capable of. Those lips thinned and a bottom row of pearls moved, to respond or for another reason Aizawa would never know, as the pair was suddenly shrouded in darkness.
Chiyo moved away quickly, seemingly taking all the oxygen with her as he breathed a sharp, surprising breath. They had been just inches away from one another.
What the hell had just happened?
Chiyo was having to bend her neck in an unseemly manner to see who- or what- had caused the looming shadow. Aizawa was mildly disappointed she hadn't swung at the intruder like she had towards him, multiple times.
Her mouth fell open in quiet awe. He didn't even need to look up to realize who stood before them as her face flushed cherry.
"Good morning! You're Chiyo, right? It's nice to see you again!" All Might's overpowered voice sounded particularly deep as he greeted the now-starstruck woman, grinning teeth enough to light the entire hall regardless of electricity. Chiyo staggered and her right arm bounced sporadically, totally energized by her hero's presence. She snatched the arm down and held it to her side, clearly frazzled, before wiping at the skirt of her dress and dropping her thermos in the process. She bent quickly to snatch it back up.
"All Might, hi! It's nice to, um, meet you. You know, again. Because I saw you at your interview." Chiyo waved one arm in a bizarre gesture. "I mean, not your interview, obviously, I wasn't hired yet or even on the hiring board when you were hired, but you were on mine and you met me there, so, yes. Hello. Again."
Christ, this was embarrassing to watch.
"Ah-ha-ha! I remember it like it was yesterday!" All Might boomed. A large hand fell upon Chiyo's shoulder and she looked as if she might faint. Aizawa, coincidentally, felt the sudden urge to vomit.
"About time for the meeting! Were you two about to go in? Mind if I join you?"
"Oh no, not at all-"
"Sorry, but there's only three to a side and we need to save a chair for Toshinori," Aizawa interrupted smoothly. Chiyo let out a strange noise, interest in the formidable hero put on hold as she glanced around for her malnourished friend.
"That's right- I forgot! He works for you, doesn't he? Toshinori? Where is he?" Chiyo asked all at once, day-dreamy gaze falling to concern at the mention of her friend. She glanced down the vacant halls and the mostly-filled room for him, too distracted to notice the little exchange occurring between Aizawa and Toshinori himself.
Aizawa's eyebrows raised, expectant. All Might slid his hand across his neck a few quick times, gesturing towards the distracted Chiyo, look pleading. Aizawa let out an immaculate sigh.
"Sometimes he's meddling with the coffee maker in the lounge; if I hurry, I can bring him back in time-"
"Teaching aids aren't always required to come to these meetings. Regardless, we'll keep a space open for him," Great, fake tears of gratitude slipped down All Might's defined cheekbones and two tired eyes rolled before Chiyo caught them, looking confused. Aizawa grabbed her wrist, careful not to take her by the hand, and dragged her away. "Let's just go."
"Oh! Um, good-bye," Chiyo bid, voice breathy once again. Her feet stumbled as Aizawa gave her a particularly rough tug, annoyance growing. This action seemed pretty good evidence towards Chiyo's little statement before; if he was honest, this was the way someone jealous would be acting.
His scoff drew the attention of a few faculty members sitting nearby, all looking on interestedly at the usually-unsociable 1-A teacher dragging the new, heeled ethics instructor by the arm. Her ridiculous hair was half-pulled into a childish bun on the top of her head, the rest like a controlled lion's mane around her shoulders.
"Why don't you slow down?" She hissed, trying to pull away.
"Why don't you get a fucking haircut?" He hissed back, much to her bewilderment.
Upon reaching a table to the far right Aizawa quickly detached himself from her, falling into a seat with a face of passive boredom.
Chiyo Tsutomi stood beside him, gaping like a dumbstruck llama. She glanced around, as if to find an explanation for his behavior. He crossed his arms and slumped in his chair even further, not meeting her wide-eyed, slowly-angering face.
If she didn't know any better, it looked like Shota Aizawa, the professional hero known for his cool, stoic persona and relentless level-headedness was...sulking.
"Men are impossible," She finally muttered, sliding into the seat to his left and releasing a wearied sigh. He watched her look around the room again, clearly assessing the other teachers, body tense. Nearly everyone had brought their laptop and he watched her lips move with a silent curse, angry for not bringing her own. Maybe she should think for herself and not imitate me, then.
As if realizing they were no longer alone, Chiyo started to gradually morph into an alternate, robotic ego; she was fidgety, on edge, but with a shuddering breath everything started to slow, shedding her emotions like a second skin. Was this her quirk at work?
Is she actually that nervous about speaking in front of the teachers? He mused, still observing her peculiar behavior. Or is it because everyone in this room is a known hero and quirk-user?
Originally, he'd assumed she was simply an all-knowing, patronizing snob who believed herself above quirk use, viewing society as decaying and destined for an inevitable end via the abuse of those powers. The way she carried herself, the cooled tone of her voice, advocated for a persona of jaded passiveness; one who saw themselves as better than others.
But then there was that goofy, finicky woman, whose smiles were quick and embarrassment imminent; the one who wore matching clothes with her mother and fell every other two seconds; one who packed lunches for the strongest hero in the world, assuming he was nothing but a frail, quirkless man. The one who marveled in wonder at the weirdest of quirks and could make Katsuki Bakugo blush, cheerfully greeting him each morning in the hallways.
The woman who, only a week ago, seemed to utterly detest him, and today drew close enough he could've counted each of her dark eyelashes, spy the few light freckles underneath her skin.
The more Aizawa thought about it, the more he believed the latter Chiyo, with the crooked smiles and frazzled behavior, was the real one, the other just a defense mechanism. The more she grew to know the students and himself, the more she revealed.
It wasn't a distaste for quirks; it was a fear.
His mouth opened to ask a question his brain hadn't fully processed, sitting up to draw her attention, when a door near the main projector opened. The tables around them continued chatting, unperturbed by the newcomer and the slowly moving ears of an animal, suddenly rising when Principal Nezu hopped up onto a chair and then the table, smiling cheerily. As if pulled by a string, Chiyo's spine straightened, attention wholly directed to the principal. Aizawa hesitated. The moment was lost as the meeting began, though the questions still lingered.
What caused her fear?
"Good morning, staff! I hope everyone had a restful weekend!" The principal's voice rang out, quieting the room. With her attention distracted Aizawa reached down to pick up the thermos Chiyo obsessively seemed to carry around, noting its heaviness. Principal Nezu continued to prattle on and Aizawa's attention promptly turned off. He popped open the straw and sniffed.
"This really is just water," He said disappointedly. Chiyo glanced his way and did a double-take, mouth falling open as Aizawa lazily drank from her bottle. His dull eyes met hers, half-lidded, watching her watch him until he'd nearly drained the thermos's contents.
With one furtive glance at Nezu, Chiyo snatched the bottle away and violently twisted his nose, earning a surprised yelp before she returned to pristine posture, seemingly innocent. The room quieted and every eye turned to Aizawa, face blanketed by his messy hair and hands, fingers pinching his own throbbing nose.
"Mr. Aizawa?" Principal Nezu asked kindly. Aizawa raised a shaking hand, waving off the principal's concern. Nezu shrugged and returned to his lecture on cell phone usage in the hallways. The woman to his left was wavering, lips stitched tightly together, dying with silent laughter.
"You're going to pay for that," He growled, much to her amusement. Light eyes slid to their corners; the only movement noting her attention to him.
"I'd so like to see you try."
The meeting lasted all the way till the final bell as Principal Nezu was led off topic and promptly fell into a tedious, brain-numbing lecture for twenty minutes. By the end, even the try-hard instructors had glazed eyes, bones stiff as they were finally released from the meeting. Aizawa was the first out and Chiyo close behind him, shoes loud as she took several steps per his single stride. He slowed, just the slightest. She looked rather...peevish.
"What are you smirking about? I will get you back, so don't feel as if you're even remotely safe," He promised. Chiyo shook her head, idiotic bun bouncing.
"Principal Nezu. He must have forgotten about the new teachers! I didn't have to stand up- I didn't have to make an idiot of myself in front of all the faculty!" She cheered, exuberant. They were in the hallway, in front of their respective classrooms, students milling around as they awaited their teachers' return to unlock the classrooms.
A slow, full-toothed smile ripped open Shota Aizawa's face.
"Oh, that? I made that up- a logical deception. New teachers don't have to introduce themselves to the faculty; this isn't kindergarten."
If Shota carried around a camera, now would have been his life's money shot.
Chiyo Tsutomi moved as if in slow motion, eyes widening like saucers and mouth falling agape, experiencing the ultimate betrayal of Shota Aizawa's practical joking.
She seemed too shocked to react but he covered his nose, just to be safe. The movement brought her to life and her head started to shake, eyes glued to his face.
"You...You're the devil," She breathed, still jolted into stupidity. He grinned.
"So what's that make you, the devil's advocate?"
A blush creeped into her cheeks. A strange, foreign feeling warmed Aizawa's insides, forcing him to look away, smiling instead at their feet. A shiver bounced her left knee under his gaze and Chiyo fidgeted, shifting her weight to the other leg.
"Hey! Ms. Tsutomi, you gonna let us in or what?" Someone lisped.
Both adults unconsciously cursed the purple-balled pervert, spell broken. The Ethics instructor seemed suddenly very aware of the crowded hallway and the entirety of her class watching her every move, all looking rather inrigued. She let out a bizarre laugh before chucking her keys at Mineta, knocking him flat on the ground.
"Here! Please take attendance for me. I appreciate it!"
The students watched, unmoving, until Chiyo's face suddenly changed into something from a nightmare. Like lightning all the students clambered to get inside, fearful of the curious wrath their teacher must possess. Aizawa nodded approvingly.
"So, I guess I'll see you...later," Chiyo relayed awkwardly. Aizawa raised an eyebrow.
"You eat with Toshinori in your room for lunch, right?" His voice asked of its own accord.
"Er, yeah. Why?"
"Mind if I join you?"
Before she could answer he had turned and entered his room, raising a hand in a passive wave, chest heaving in bafflement and mild fury for inviting himself like some fucking third wheel into his peer's room for lunch. He could've utilized those precious forty-minutes with something useful, like sleeping.
His strictly-school-relationship peer's room.
His smiling, goofy, woman-shaped peer's room.
He shook himself, hard, of the thoughts worming into his overworked brain. Students were already silently waiting for his instruction as he began explaining the importance of understanding thermodynamics in the face of energy-based villains.
He'd eat lunch with Tsutomi and Toshinori.
And then he'd ask his colleague what his intentions were with their new, soft-lipped coworker.
