Being with Toshinori was like waking up to a Saturday morning, every day. Like the first bite of ice cream, soft and straight out of the carton. He smiled and I heard a hundred soda cans popping open, the draw of his lips like the crackling, energetic bubbles.
He was awkward and easily tongue-tied. As if this was his first time just spending time with a girl. Was it?
We'd had a handful of dreamsicle outings, soft around the edges and reminiscent of the scenarios in those crap movies mom and I loved so much. Movies, dinner, lazy afternoon stolls.
He came over and I made one of the only meals I knew how, astounded when he didn't even gag. I couldn't tell whether his delight was genuine or if his poker face was as solid as a professional gambler's.
On date three, I took his hand in mine.
On date five, he took mine.
He eclipsed the sun with his own golden aura- mentally and physically. I felt miniscule in comparison, but it wasn't necessarily unpleasant. I liked my height. I liked having to bend my head to smile back at him, or to watch the nervousness spread across his face like a silent film turning to color.
Being with him felt foreign and so familiar, like recurring deja vu.
Toshinori seemed very frightened by my mouth. His eyes would flicker but always turn, as if watching them too long might trigger some reaction.
I wondered what that triggered reaction would feel like.
Maybe something was in the water. I felt antsy. Tonight, I'd make The Move, even if he was too shy to do so himself.
I was spacing, looking out the window and daydreaming about the dessert bar Toshinori and I had discovered in a different area of the city, when something hard shot at my temple. The class let out a uniform giggle. I shot them a withering look before facing my attacker. Annoyance sprouted like weeds.
Shota Aizawa stood in the doorway, straw hanging from his mouth. Had he spit something at me? I wiped at my face, horrified at the dampness.
"Mr. Aizawa?" I asked politely. We'd barely spoken a word to each other in the past two weeks. The situation suited me fine. He didn't want me as his problem, I didn't want to feel like a yoyo tied to his lazy finger. Win-win.
It didn't mean my breath didn't still catch at the sight of him.
I'd noticed him watching me from his classroom a few days ago; his set-up mirrored mine. I'd moved my desk over half a foot that same day, blocking us from one another's view.
It was simply for the best. There would be moments where Toshi brought up a topic and would instantly remind me of some smart remark Aizawa had made about the same subject, muttered from the side of his mouth at a meeting or between classes. The day Toshinori showed up for our second movie date, the sky's heavy clouds pulled me right back into the memory of Aizawa's apartment, recalling the soft, childish breaths he loosed when he'd slept beside me that rainy evening, everything else forgotten.
It wasn't fair- to any of us- for me to dwell on a vanished past.
"I was instructed to inform you about an upcoming 'class trip'. As a new teacher and directly involved in the hero program, Principal Nezu deems it 'appropriate' and 'informative' for both you and the students if you also attended." He made it a point to emphasize Nezu's phrasing. "There's a brief meeting after school today to go over the itinerary."
"Great, thanks."
The straw bobbed between his lips. He watched me until I raised my eyebrows.
"Is there...anything else?"
"Guess not."
What kind of answer was that?
Eraserface pivoted back towards his room, aloof as ever. I restrained an eye roll.
What did UA consider as a "field trip"? I sincerely doubted it was a sunny trip to the zoo. Would I be...chaperoning? Waiting on the sidelines with juice and apple slices?
The bell for lunch rang, interrupting the tranquility of my class hard at work, and I bid them a cheerful farewell.
Lunch the past few days had been quiet; Toshinori was being kept busy by All Might, it seemed- whatever that entailed- and since the conference, my lunching party never saw its original third companion. I fiddled with the lid of my second lunch and glanced out the door.
Aizawa's room was dark, but that didn't necessarily mean he wasn't in there; on several occasions, when I went to fill my thermos or run an errand, I would catch sight of him, slumped over in a hideous yellow cocoon, lights off and door wide for all to see.
After a moment's fleeting contemplation I stood, taking both lunches with me.
Instead of being snuggled in that infamous sleeping bag the students so frequently discussed, Aizawa sat at his desk, temple cradled in one hand. His hunched shoulders created a concave spine similar to Toshi's spindly form. Two fingers extended from my right hand, reaching towards the curve of his neck, before I caught myself.
What on earth were you going to do, regulate his body for him?
"Need something?" His voice startled me into nearly jumping out of my skin.
"No, not particularly. Er- I made an extra lunch and thought you might like it, seeing that you can't actually survive on water and sarcasm."
"Do you have verifiable evidence to prove your theory?"
I gestured at him, proof enough. He let out a scoffing chuckle before bracing his hands against the desk and pushing away. I took this as a positive sign and placed the lunch before him.
"You don't have to leave," He spoke to my retreating back. The thought of staying hadn't even crossed my mind. My face must have betrayed the thought because he grimaced, ushering me towards the nearest student desk. I analyzed the seat, skeptical.
"Who usually sits here? I won't stay if that's Mineta's usual perch,"
"You and I both know Mineta would never choose a front row desk."
Valid, I thought, and settled in. My shoes fell with a soft patter, legs lifted to sit cross-legged in the cold chair. Aizawa made another undecipherable noise, observing my strange habits, before unwrapping my offered lunch.
"Thank you."
"Mhm."
A comfortable silence permeated the room as we both dug into our meals; identical except for the side vegetable, as I generally avoided broccoli like the plague.
"Have you stopped running?" Aizawa directed his question towards his lunch. I pondered the question, taking it more seriously than he probably intended. With a glance up he added, "I haven't seen you on the trails."
"It's a big park," I sidestepped. "Maybe you just miss me every time."
"Yaoyorozu and Asui were discussing it. They said you told them it was 'no longer necessary'?"
Ope. Busted.
"I don't really need to get into any better shape; it's not like I'm aiming for a hero license or anything."
Aizawa fiddled with his chopsticks, clearly having an opinion on the matter. The loose hair and scarf hid most of the cloud darkening his features.
"What?"
He remained silent. I fixed an expectant stare on him until the burn of my gaze made him cave.
"Did your mom tell you to stop running after school?"
Annoyance pooled in my stomach, though he wasn't far off the marker. "What if she did?"
He held his hands up in mock defeat.
"I heard the students discussing how you used your quirk before the seminar, and how you've vehemently denied the fact since."
"Because I wouldn't have; I'm not-" I cut myself off with a wince. A headache was sprouting just behind my forehead. Aizawa watched me like a disapproving school teacher. Again, not far off the mark.
"You're not...what? Allowed?"
"It's not like that" I huffed. He shrugged, returning to his lunch with a passive air.
"Looks that way to me."
"Why didn't you just tell me Emi Fukukado wasn't your girlfriend?" I blurted so suddenly even I was taken aback. Food shot from Aizawa's mouth, choking in surprise.
I'd looked up Emi Fukukado as soon as I'd arrived home, safe in the solitude of my apartment. She was a pro hero and had indeed worked at an agency close to Eraser Head's, sure, but that's where their similarities mostly ended. I had even been so pathetic as to ask Yamada about the potential couple. After laughing for ten solid minutes, tears trickling out the corners of his eyes, he'd assured me Ms. Joke was nothing but a constant thorn in Aizawa's humorless side.
If this were all true, why hadn't Aizawa just said something instead of letting my imagination run rampant?
"As I recall, I tried. You didn't want to hear anything I had to say," He answered. It was my turn to pick at my lunch, unable to argue. He continued in a mutter, "It should've been obvious; that woman is insane."
A soft laugh escaped and he looked over at me, face peeking between his barriers.
"Does your mother possess a water quirk too?"
"My mother doesn't possess a quirk; why are you so obsessed with my mom?"
He looked very surprised. I shrugged. "It's really not that uncommon; one in every five people are born quirkless."
"But you have such a powerful quirk. It's odd to think it manifested on its own-"
"Why do people keep saying that?" I interrupted before slamming my thermos down with way more force than necessary.
For the past two weeks, students had commented on my "wondrous" quirk or inquired what else I could do with my abilities. Each question always devolved into a maddening headache as I struggled with a joke I clearly wasn't in on. I had no idea what they were even referring to. "My quirk isn't anything special in the slightest; I mostly just use it to regulate my blood flow and, in turn, emotions. It's not like I can help anyone with it-"
"You gifted me a good night's sleep and floated my body onto the bed with critical precision," He pointed out casually. My heart skipped two beats in lurching surprise.
"You were- I thought you were asleep."
He shrugged, taking a long drag from his coffee mug.
"Guess I wasn't as asleep as you thought I was."
A spigot of color splashed my neck, blotching my skin as I busied myself with anything other than looking at him. He watched me for a breath longer before falling back into his usual indifference.
"The field trip is tomorrow. Class 1-A will be going over rescue training. Because two sections of your class will be absent anyway, it makes sense for you to attend."
"Will it be dangerous?"
"It's all simulatory; there aren't any villainous actors like the last time we went on a field trip," He answered dryly. I shook my head at the memory. "Plus, All Might will be there, so you won't have to worry."
"Guess you're free of Chiyo-duty then, huh?" I joked. "Will Toshinori be there, then? Since All Might will be?"
A shadow ran across Aizawa's face; one he hid quickly with his drink. He shrugged.
"You'll just have to ask him yourself."
A bell rang and released the students like a tidal wave from the cafeteria. The remnants of Aizawa's coffee burst from the mug with my surprise.
He sat, still as a statue, face dripping dark, heavy droplets of my spontaneous rainfall.
I knocked everything off the desks in my rush towards him.
"Shit, I'm sorry- I hear that bell eight times a day, you think I'd be used to it-" I stammered, blotting his face with the hem of my skirt. Luckily, today's dress of choice was a black jersey material; whatever I scrubbed off his face wouldn't even leave a noticeable stain.
"It's fine," Came his crumpled response. His fingers quickly caught mine, stilling the battering, drying motion, and as the fabric fell I noted his pink face, scoured too harshly by my panicked touch. We stared at each other.
"Some weak-ass quirk, huh." He deadpanned.
There was a bit of carrot stuck between her teeth, and the black liner winged off her widened eyes, upon such closer inspection, didn't exactly match up angles. Her hands were sticky from where she'd licked clean the sauce from her lunch.
And yet her standing here, close enough to kiss, consumed him so wholly he could barely think past her concern and gentle caress against his rugged face.
"I didn't clarify about Fukukado after the seminar because I knew, being the borderline stalker you are, you would look her and I up yourself," The warm fingers of her right hand gave a spasm- practical admittance. Aizawa held on just a little tighter. "But more than that, I didn't clarify because what you said bothered me more than I wanted to admit. The exhaustion, the layers, the distancing. They're logical for a low-profile hero, but...Your words glanced upon something else, too."
There were eyes of green and amber and indigo peeping into the classroom; the lunch bell had rang, the students were back, but he wasn't quite ready to let go of her.
It had been two weeks.
Two weeks of watching her from a distance.
Two weeks of Toshinori wandering nervously into her room nearly every morning, lunch, and afternoon.
Two weeks of that beaming smile and quick laugh given to someone else.
On his weekly delivery to the animal shelter, he'd witnessed them through the window of an ice cream parlor. The long neck of Toshinori Yagi bent down and whispered something in her ear. A blush tickled her nose, eyes widening before her teeth burst into a smile.
It was selfish, and wrong, to want her.
And yet the feeling grew quietly all the same, defiant against rationality.
"I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I'm sorry," She answered, bringing him back to the present. The right corner of his mouth twitched; she'd just said what he'd been trying half a month to articulate. Her shoulders relaxed and an easy smile came to her. "But you're still sticking to your sacred oath, right? No saving this damsel in distress?"
He scoffed.
"Never."
There was a little chip in her left canine when she grinned too largely.
The meeting went smoothly, the itinerary hammered out. There were a few questions- one from Chiyo, inquiring about the "proper attire for the arena"- that were simple enough for Principal Nezu to explain without falling into a tangent.
The Ethics teacher seemed only vaguely distracted by the massive presence of All Might just a few chairs over, doing an admirable job of keeping her ogling at a minimum. Aizawa did note, dryly, the water in her opaque thermos swirling like a lazy tornado against its cylinder walls, and the foot that endlessly tapped against the green linoleum.
She'd glance around every so often, trying to seem discreet.
She's looking for Toshinori.
Aizawa wasn't the only one to notice.
Principal Nezu dismissed the faculty but asked Tsutomi to stay, needing a brief word. Aizawa rose lazily, turning out into the hall in the opposite direction of the exit.
Ever since he and Tsutomi returned from the seminar, she was different- and not just in her company preference.
She had used her quirk multiple times since her residency at UA, in front of students and himself alike; she had confided in him over how student opinions were impacting her; she'd started "training", regardless of how basic and ineffective it had been. He glanced around before entering the faculty office, thumbing through the staff files before finding one still glossy from recent creation.
She had been changing, and yet now seemed to have reverted back to her original stonewalling of all things related to heroism and quirk use.
Hannei Tsutomi
He put the name into the database, anticipation riling his stomach, just as the entry door swung open.
All Might, reverted into his skeletal form, looked at Aizawa in surprise. The enigma hero's stomach began to thrash for new reasons.
"What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
All Might nodded, not inquiring further. Aizawa didn't lower his stare.
"You need to tell her, All Might."
"P-Pardon?"
Aizawa sighed, feeling in desperate need of a nap. This had nothing to do with his feelings towards her and all to do with what was bound to happen. "The entire faculty is aware of your true form; you have a student even aware. Chiyo Tsutomi is going to find out one way or another. Wouldn't you rather it be from you than someone's accidental slip-up?"
"Are you insinuating you're going to tell her?"
For once, the beacon of hope wasn't smiling. Aizawa looked away.
"It's not my place to do so," He set his eyes back on All Might. "But it's going to happen."
Toshinori released a long breath and Aizawa was struck by just how tired he seemed. They had never been particularly close, but in this moment, he felt sympathy for the man.
It was hard, though, when the very same man acted as the road block to the woman who kept laughing in his daydreams and tripping up his thoughts.
"Were you two…?"
"What?" Aizawa's voice cut sharper than he intended. Toshinori scratched his head, suddenly embarrassed.
"You two seemed close, before. I hope I didn't invade on anything-"
"Chiyo's a grown woman. She's capable of making her own choices."
"Right, I just meant- if you two were-"
"We didn't go on ice cream dates or any of the gooey shit you two have been up to, if that's what you mean."
All Might blushed a deep shade reminiscent of the woman in question. Again, Aizawa looked away.
"It's been kind of a slow process."
"Just man up and kiss her, Christ," Aizawa muttered under his breath, attention back on the computer. Toshinori loudly stammered something in response. Aizawa couldn't hear anything outside of the blood suddenly rushing through his head.
Hannei Tsutomi: No data found.
Thank you SO much for the wonderful feedback! I grin like a complete idiot with every review. I couldn't contain a little outburst; I promise to keep the next few chapters clean of my comments, as things are about to get...Well, you'll see.
