She'd called him Sho-sho. Had she ever used that nickname before?
The window pane was cool; the only thing keeping his burning temple from lifting off the glass and beating the chattering into silence, if only to have a few moment's peace.

"Does this mean it's over?" He picked up the anguished question from Mineta. "Maybe- Maybe it's just casual, you know, and she'll-"
"She said she loves him." That would be Ashido, gushing pinker than her skin color. "L-o-v-e. Casual affairs do not use the "L" word."
"Like you'd know," A voice muttered before letting out an oompf. The love expert must've socked him.

After an unethical tactic carried out by their very own ethics teacher, Class 1-A couldn't be bothered to discuss anything other than the romantics of UA's staff, no matter how many casts of judgment and demands of silence Tenya Iida shouted, their rigorous training camp momentarily forgotten by nearly all.

Aizawa slouched lower. Why even bother? Their voices would only drop to mutinous whispers if he tried to dispel their gossip again. It would be more rational to let them tire the subject out; that way, it'll end once and for all-

"Do you think she'll keep her last name?" Yaoyorozu asked thoughtfully.
"Two Aizawas would be kind of confusing," Tsuyu agreed, sounding as if she were hypothesizing a not-too-distant future.

The sudden thumping of Shota Aizawa's heart pulled him away from his slumped position so quickly he almost received whiplash. Absolutely not; this was absolutely not a conversation he would allow to be had- let alone in his presence-

"Do you think their kid will have a combination of their quirks?"
Aizawa paused. The bus, apparently, did as well, quietly contemplating Midoriya's predictable line of thought.

The idea of that sort of what if would never have crossed Aizawa's mind, especially before Chiyo's surgery. In truth he couldn't even think of words like child and Chiyo in the same sentence without a strange sense of panic filling his chest like nectar-thick water.
And yet his hair remained only partially floating, caught between stricken and passive, as if it, too, was curious to hear the speculations.

"Maybe it could cancel out bodily functions!" Someone said enthusiastically. Kaminari? "You know, since Tsutomi-sensei can slow down heart rates and stuff?"
"That just makes it sound like it'd give someone severe constipation," Jiro noted dryly.
"I meant cancel out water elements," They defended with a sulk. Definitely Kaminari. "Maybe with Erasure, Tsutomi's quirk would work in the opposite direction and dry out the water instead."
"You really shouldn't refer to a child as an it," Yaoyorozu to the sensitive rescue. "What if they still had control over water- such as their own body's- and Erasure? She would virtually never have to blink in that instance."

The crowd of listening students ooh'ed their awe. One returning voice, however, caught a different message entirely.

"She?" Aizawa listened to Minata savoring the word. "There is hope yet,"

The urge to rise from his seat and strike the boy down was staggering. A rise of embarrassment quickly stamped out his irrational, ridiculous emotional response. You're allowing yourself to grow upset over an imaginary, hypothetical figment. Besides, Mineta will long have flunked out or graduated by the time such a being exists.

Every rib bent, pulled by an invisible tether at the thought, one which sprang forth before he could stop himself, painting a visual in the quick seconds his guard remained down.
Of Chiyo, soft-filtered and smiling, smoothing back the hair of a little girl, kissing her goodnight and promising waffles come morning.
He blinked and like a mirage the imagery was gone, leaving nothing but endless trees and rocky terrain in front of him.

"So long as it- they look like Tsutomi-sensei, I don't think it'll matter if it's a boy or girl."
Ouch.
"Can you imagine a female teenage Aizawa-sensei?" Someone whispered in a gross sort of fascination. The bus practically shook with a universal shudder.
More fair, he thought, before giving a small shiver himself. If that sort of future lay before them- well, Aizawa hoped Chiyo's genes were mostly dominant, too.

Panic at being overheard widened twenty sets of eyes when their homeroom teacher stood, fixing a particularly tired gaze across them.
"Everybody out. We're stopping."

Mandalay and Pixie-Bob were as over-the-top as the last time he'd seen them, though most of their theatrics languished in the eyes of his confused students. Only Midoriya seemed to have any idea who stood before them, though Pixie was quick to shut the teenager up when he nearly revealed their age. Unbelievable.
Some unconscious drive nudged Tsuyu and Yaoyorozu between the Wild Wild Pussycats and their homeroom teacher, protective of his clueless self- or, rather, guarding their favored mentor's significant other, not sparing him so much as a glance as they inched in front of him.
But most surprising was the subtle movement of one ashen blonde, whose crossing arms and pre-set glare seemed a little more disdainful than usual. He, too, angled his body to oppose Pixie-Bob and Mandalay.

Remember, She'd said.
More of them are scared of you, but the most frightening ones are scared of me.

Oh, if only Tsutomi could see her trained little pupils in action.
After brief introductions and another classic deception, Class 1-A tumbled down into the wilderness, cursing his name to the point of offense. Aizawa only smiled.

"Isn't this a little extreme, Eraser?"
After their first tremulous semester, anything he threw their way would only be mild by comparison. In a safe, remote environment with Pixie-Bob's controlled "enemies", Aizawa felt assured in his students' safety.

He explained as much before returning to the bus, bowing his head once more. "Thanks for this. I have some business to attend to farther north, but I should be at the camp no later than this evening."

The feline duo believed the students would reach camp by noon, but he had a feeling their estimation was based on their own expertise, rather than twenty novices with no wild terrain training. He would be back with time to spare.

The bus driver visibly relaxed without the cacophony of so many young passengers. Aizawa slipped into his normal row, also feeling more at peace, though the absence of his usual seatmate left much to be desired.

One week.
A far longer time for her, though. Alone with a hero known for his menacing demeanor and even sharper persona. She would be lucky to come back in one piece, let alone with a more refined quirk. Aizawa still couldn't fathom what led Chiyo to Gang Orca- not in terms of quirk relatability, but why the push? Why now, when the first semblance of normalcy might've returned to their lives?
She said she needed to get stronger in order to protect Toshinori and the students, but didn't she know the stronger she became, the more her own target grew? And with it, the risks- risks she'd already taken and mostly walked away from with minor injury- but with every level reached the net would grow smaller, increase her chances of potential fatality. Aizawa no longer grieved her heroic action in saving Bakugo's life, but what if the Nomu's attack had taken all of her reproductive organs? What if, next time, such a blow left her paralyzed? Could she live with the consequences?

No, he realized.
The question wasn't if she could, but whether he could live with the guilt of allowing her to be injured in the first place.
Like he already had.

Aizawa relaxed back against the unfriendly headrest, tried to uproot the seeds of old anxiety and doubt from his troubled mind.

If Chiyo so much as guessed at his self-blaming thoughts, Aizawa knew no underground bunker or fortress would save him from her fiery, incredulous wraith, demanding he reroute such guilt onto the Nomu and bad luck, rather than any one individual. But wasn't it his job to protect her? What kind of significant other- a so-called hero, no less- couldn't even keep his most loved one safe? Were his failings what led her to the Paradox?

"Mr. Aizawa? We've reached the train station."
His joints groaned loud enough to hide the sound of his chattering nerves as he stood. Aizawa nodded his thanks to the driver before leaving the bus and his complicated thoughts behind.

Chiyo chose this path, and he would not question her convictions.
Instead he would keep a closer eye on her- on all of them- in order to alleviate her fears, and do everything in his power to keep her out of harm's way.

Because that four-second daydream was nothing more than that- a figment of imagination, a mirage in a clouded mind.

And yet something inside of him yearned for it all the same.


"Sensei, can we please call it quits for tonight?" Mina Ashido begged into her crossed arms. The fluff of her pink head bobbed with each loud, dripping crocodile tear. Kaminari's face showed the short-circuited workings of his brain by this late into the lecturing hour, and even Kirishima's boundless energy seemed dampened by a wet towel.

"You should've thought about the ramifications of abysmal exam scores," Aizawa reprimanded anyway. "While your classmates proved their worth, you all chose to rely on others or slack off. Welcome to the consequences."
Though, in truth, he was also tired, and even if he wouldn't be able to sleep, the silent sanctuary of comatose teenagers was almost enough to make his knees give out.

He eyed the exhausted students, noted the clock reading two A.M.
Aizawa released a begrudging sigh.
"I suppose we can stop...for now."

Ashido and Kaminari nearly reawakened the entire compound with their joyous shrieks, tripping over one another to rush out of the door- hurrying before he could change his mind, no doubt. Kirishima followed suit, pausing to worry for a moment about Neito Monoma, who'd nodded off sometime in the last ten minutes, a whistling snore drying out his slack-jawed mouth. Kirishima looked to Aizawa with a sheepish grin before slipping out the door.

Feeling generous, Aizawa dropped a textbook near the blonde's head on his way out.
He couldn't be expected to tuck grown teenagers in bed, let alone one's not even from his class.

"Eraser," Vlad greeted, hunkered over what looked like a game of shogi in one corner of their shared room. Upon closer scrutiny Aizawa realized it was a shogi table, though where pieces should be posed there was only a mess of lesson plans, mapping out the week for both the day training and remedial classes of later hours.

"Vlad," Aizawa said in return. Meaty hands offered a pile of paperwork once he settled in across from him. "Are you still on board with alternating night teaching?"
"Sounds fair," Vlad agreed, though not without a smirk. "Even if most of the recovery students are from 1-A."

He and Vlad shared a lot of the same habits; the need to engage in competitive banter, however, was not one of them. This didn't stop 1-b's instructor from antagonizing Eraser any less. Eventually he gave up the game, straightening the packets before him with no more than a grumble about sportsmanship. Aizawa's attention snagged on the familiar loops of writing on one of the packets, where a happy-colored sticky note flickered with Vlad's movement. A little smiley face grinned beside the uneven-sized characters, written in someone's left-handed style.

"Are those lessons from Tsutomi?"
Aizawa cursed his curiosity when Vlad's expression went sly; he'd intentionally bated him.
"As a matter of fact, they are."
Sekijiro meant for the paused to be pressuring. He was not, however, prepared for Aizawa's lackluster stare, and quickly gave up the ruse.
"Tsutomi expressed concerns over safety and ethical training- especially after your last guided outing," Vlad struck him with a look. "And then these packets appeared in my mailbox. I assume you told her about the training camp?"

"Only the bare hint of details; I didn't disclose any information regarding location," Aizawa answered. He put his focus on the task at hand, letting his scarf and hair do the masking of his expression. Why had she given the assignments to Vlad? Because she hadn't trusted him to carry out the lessons himself? No, because she wouldn't have wanted him worrying over her working when he thought she should be resting.

"She told me to give you this." Vlad said, then plucked the sticky note off and held it out to him. Aizawa veiled his surprise with a bare raise of his brow.

Please make sure to cover this content with Kaminari and Monoma, specifically, she'd written. Instructions for Eraser Head below.

The note had been neatly folded at the bottom lip, undetectable at a glance. A bulldog face inched closer. Aizawa tilted the note further towards himself before pulling apart the seam.

Your punishment for not kissing me good-bye.

"What?" Aizawa's sudden cut of breath proved too much for Vlad's feigned disinterest. "What's it say?"
"When did you pick these up from the office?"
"Friday. I came in to organize a few materials for the trip. Why?"

Friday? The day he'd driven them to school for the very same reason, where she supposedly life guarded their students at the pool the entire time. When did she do it?

But more importantly- that was three entire days before they said good-bye.
Sneaky, watchful little Chiyo, who was learning all the textures and folds of his mind. Three steps ahead, planning accordingly.

"Am I...that predictable?" Aizawa asked himself. The note provided no answer- or, rather, any answer he wanted to know- and Vlad, still in stitches, let out a grunt.

"You know, for an ethics teacher, I find the underlining of Monoma's name pretty targeting," He let out another noise of distaste, stretching out his over-sized arms, rising as if to turn in for the night. Aizawa let out a breath of a snort. "I like her, though. She's spirited."
"Like a poltergeist," Aizawa muttered.

Sekijiro lacked the sort of shame that drew people into bathrooms to change clothes, instead standing in the middle of the room as he brashly dropped his pants. Dark eyes focused more severely on the lesson plans.

"She's pretty cute, too."
"Mm," Aizawa said, noncommittal.
"So is it true?"
"Is what true?"
Vlad waved a hand in Aizawa's periphery. Until he pulled on some clothes, though, Aizawa had no interest in glancing over.
"You and Tsutomi. Are you-?"

An inky sentiment dyed Aizawa's stomach olive. Between the scene after Operation Submersion and those blabbermouths Yamada and Kayama, it was only a matter of time. Still, the attention left him both uncomfortable and, oddly, defensive.

"Why are you asking?"

Vlad halted at his companion's tone, one leg poked into a fresh pair of underwear, the other posed in midair. Aizawa wished he'd hurry up and cover himself, though didn't break their string of eye contact.
At last the family jewels were veiled. The rest of his clothes followed quickly before Sekijiro casually returned to the table.

Reading people emotionally had never been his strong suit; the same applied now, as Class 1-B's homeroom teacher looked at him with a particular softness Aizawa couldn't quite place.

"I'm asking because in all these years working together, I've never seen you bicker with a coworker the way you do with her between classes, two steps away from flirting. You've never socialized during lunch and yet, a few weeks in, everyone knew they could find you in the classroom parallel to yours from eleven til noon. I heard you chuckle the other day, Eraser. Chuckle."

He wasn't sure why that was the word Vlad chose to emphasize, but didn't comment all the same.
Vlad leaned back, exhaled through his turn-up nose.

"Highly unethical, the way Class 1-A seems to rule the roost," He commented.
"If it makes you feel any better, Principal Nezu was, apparently, alerted every step of the way."
Roaring laughter roused the light sleepers two rooms over. Aizawa filed away the lessons to hide a growing smile.

"I'm happy for you," Vlad said, and meant it.

The pseudo-vampire was unconscious by the time Aizawa returned from the bathroom, dressed for bed even if he doubted getting to sleep would be possible without Chiyo.
Coupled with the violent magnitude of Vlad King's snoring, Aizawa realized sleep wouldn't just be elusive- it would be impossible.

So he rested his body and let his mind roam, wondering if a woman lost in time was thinking of him, too.


All in all, he was impressed with the progress of the students.
The training exercises- from Yaoyorozu and Seto's gorging fest to the boiling water Bakugo and Todoroki plunged themselves in- held their own gruesome components and difficulties, but already their quirks would be improving, preparing them for what lie ahead.
Time and time again the students of UA rose to the challenge, faced adversity with tall spines and eyes burning with courage, claiming future territory in the land of heroism. The pressure put on them was intense, no one could deny it, but with each training and class came wisdom, lessons that could save their life one day.

The road to heroism was rife with challenges, but the destination, divine.
For some, it was the spotlight; the admiration, being adored by the masses. For others, the reward of saving the day, rescuing kittens out of trees, school buses of chaotic, grateful children from broken bridges, women out of burning buildings.
All he'd ever wanted was to never lose someone again.

"Sensei?"

One of the most earnest faces was looking at him, spiky hair like a crown of burning thorns. Kirishima nodded at the offering in his hands. "We made it ourselves, so it definitely won't be the best, but we're all pretty proud. Here," He held the plate out, despite Aizawa's lack of response. "Eat up!"
It can't be any worse than Chiyo's cooking. "Thank you, Kirishima."

Lo and behold, Vlad and Tiger were already in line to be served. Guess I'm expected to eat out here with the rest of them.
Even in his high school days, crowds were never his preferred setting. The noise, the onlookers- how was anyone expected to properly relax, let alone eat? Aizawa sighed his discontent and settled on a picnic table on the outskirts of the craze.

"Eraser," Tiger seated himself across from the slumped man, eyed his curry warily. "We provided all the ingredients and Mandalay oversaw the preparation, but I must admit, I'm a little...unsure of this."

In an act of bravery, Aizawa tested the food. Salty, but edible. "It's not the worst food I've ever had."

"Well, I'd hope not." Mandalay's auburn hair glinted in the dying sunlight like a wave as she lowered herself in next to Tiger. "Your students worked really hard to pull this meal together. Besides," She elbowed her overgrown teammate. "We've had far dicier meals in the mountains, right?"

Tiger hummed his agreement. Aizawa, not willing to vocalize his thoughts, wondered what sorts of unconventional delicacies a person in need could produce out of a forest. Suddenly the curry didn't seem nearly as unappetizing.
Pixie-Bob and Ragdoll arrived with full plates, squishing the anti-social shadow into the middle to sit on either side of him, before the opposite side re-situated to also include Vlad.

The conversations prattled on- animated on the pussycats' side, prideful on Vlad's. Aizawa made noises of agreement when expected but otherwise focused on not drifting off into purgatory, as he liked to refer to it, where focus lost its sharp edges but denied him true content, either. A state of not-sleep; his primary setting.

"Eraser?"
Pixie touched his arm, gentle enough not to startle, yet he tensed all the same. Get a grip. He'd become too accustomed to a full night's sleep; now, everything less than felt like torture.

"I'm fine. Just exhausted."
"You should've come take a dip with us last night! Hot springs provide all sorts of health benefits," Pixie's cheerful voice felt grating against his vulnerable nerves. So much so, in fact, his senses missed the sudden attention being given to his table from across the room.
"Eraser had the remedial classes last night, but tonight I'll run them," Vlad explained. "They're right, Eraser; you should find time to visit the springs. Maybe then you won't be so...stiff."
"You all went together?"
"We're all adults here," Ragdoll's tone was friendly, but there was an odd flush in her cheeks. What the hell's that about?

With all Chiyo's newfound abilities and training, Aizawa wasn't completely convinced she wouldn't know what he was up to if he stepped into a large enough body of water, no matter how far away they were from one another.
He shuddered at the thought.
"I'll pass."
"Oh, come on," Ragdoll was insistent. Pixie-Bob hadn't removed her hand from earlier; now she used the contact to give him a gentle shove. He bent like a willow towards Ragdoll, stoic and unresponsive, before the other sister-in-arms went to playfully push him back.

Her hands never found their destination as a petrified shock of hair obstructed her view, so sudden and forceful she tumbled off the bench before her brain could process what was happening. The others hardly noticed, however, as Pixie's cry of surprise drew everyone's attention to the left, where two teenage individuals appeared from thin air, trays crashing into the table, knocking the other adult woman once sitting beside Aizawa out of the picture.

"Sensei," Florid-faced and backed by a clearly-panicked Tenya Iida, Momo Yaoyorozu took the seat on her instructor's left-hand side. "We, uh-"
"We have some questions about tonight's training." Katsuki Bakugo, who hadn't spared so much as a glance at the woman he'd knocked away right before she put hands on Eraser, finished for Yaoyorozu.

"That's right! We were hoping to score some details," That red-headed girl from 1-B, the one part of the Submersion training, appeared almost as quickly as the others, hopping over the bench beside her own instructor and, subtly, moving Mandalay farther from the group. "Will the students who failed the exams be included, or will their extra lessons continue on the rest of the week?"
"Excellent question!" Iida straightened his glasses, gaining confidence. "Will we be focusing on our quirks through this endeavor?"
"Does the temperature fall significantly this close to the mountains?"
"Will the two classes be working together?"
"Will there be handicaps for those possessing nocturnal quirks?"

Divide and distract.
In ten seconds flat, Operation Submersion had infiltrated the instructors' table and carried out their mission to fruition, removing all threats and sitting like a fortress around their leader's precious cargo. Aizawa sat speechless, looking between the partially guilty, abundantly smug faces of his students, who continued to jabber as if an ulterior motive didn't even exist.

One student, however, simply ate, ignored the heat of his instructor's eyes on him.

"The others, I understand," Aizawa mused. "But you, Bakugo?"

The volatile teenager continued to chew, glaring at his curry. Had she threatened them with something, or were their actions totally voluntary? Aizawa couldn't imagine Chiyo- the woman who abandoned her groceries to climb shelves for little old grannies looking for jars of artichoke hearts, who collected rubbish from sidewalks to recycle later, regardless of how disgusting Aizawa told her that was- asking anyone to do what she would doubtlessly considered dirty work, let alone her own students.
So why?

"You're trying to look out for her," Aizawa said slowly, after the wild wild pussycats evacuated to safety, while Iida and Kendo thoroughly engaged Vlad in a conversation about blood-based quirks and whether his bottom canines were somehow part of his abilities. Bakugo's face gave away nothing as he lifted his water bottle.

"Maybe we just think you're a dumbass,"
"Bakugo!" Yaoyorozu hissed, scandalized.
"Hm."
Aizawa continued to watch Class 1-A's most emotionally-inept student. Bakugo, in turn, took him in from the far corners of his eyes, kept his usual medley of boredom-and-annoyance in place.

Katasuki Bakugo was, discreetly, one of Aizawa's favored students. Rough around the edges, yes, but talented, with true drive. He still remembered the day Bakugo joined Chiyo's Submersion team, how excited she was by his interest.

It's working. She'd sounded so peevishly gleeful, eyes narrowed with a smirky little grin. I'm winning him over to the dark side.

Like she had an ounce of darkness in that Ghibli-and-kitten soul of hers. Still, there was some sort of bond between the two, even if neither one recognized it. Bakugo's mad-dog behavior mellowed out whenever Tsutomi was around, and she, likewise, seemed more cognizant of him as a person, rather than being overwhelmed or distracted by his unfriendly persona.

Aizawa's original beliefs- that Chiyo's interest in Bakugo only stemmed from a whim, how Bakugo only tolerated the ethics instructor like he did everyone else- slowly unraveled as the image came into focus.

The students hardly took note when Eraser Head stood, thoroughly engaged in the conversation with Vlad King over how much blood loss he could sustain before passing out. No one noticed, thus, when Aizawa spoke quietly to one particular student as he collected his tray.
"I wonder how you're going to handle her reaction when she finds out she's finally won you over, kid."


I wonder how you're going to handle her reaction when she finds out.

Even in the chaos, half the damn world on fire, that idiot Deku whining about his safety, looking like a broken insect on the back of multi-arms, his mind kept flashing back to the earlier conversation.

She finally won you over.

What the hell did he mean, won him over?

He hadn't meant to physically react, watching the instructor's table from his brooding perch between Weird Hair and Round Face. But then the crazy one blushed, and that idiot kept on staring at her, and then Kirishima was yelling after him before the others put together what was happening. He couldn't explain why; it just happened.

"Keep up, Kacchan!"
His anger, like always, spiked faster than his thoughts. "Shut up, y'damn nerd!"

From day one that crazy hag had had it in for him; the quirk cancellation, how she pestered him in the hallway, made his life hell with annoying pet names and teasing smiles. She constantly docked points from his assignments for language, then wrote an essay of notes prompting him to "deeper analyze" his thought process. "Why do you want to be a hero, Bakugo? And what kind of hero will you be?"

She couldn't just be like the others. The rest of them had learned quickly not to rattle his cage; she came directly at him, gloveless and unafraid, staring at him with those weird-colored, watchful eyes. As if he were settling water, and she was moments away from discovering what lay beneath.

A branch snapped to his left, then another.
What kind of hero will you be?
First Deku, then her.
What kind of hero?

The strongest. The kind who didn't need anyone else.
And then no one would ever risk their lives for him again.


Twenty-one hours had passed since Katsuki Bakugo's abduction.

Ambulances, police, reporters. The forest rang with sirens rather than wildlife until every victim, villain, and bystander was transported back to the city, to be further evaluated or questioned.
A stampede of flashing lights and angry voices stood outside UA's gates, demanding answers.

How could this have happened?

"We can't stand around and do nothing!" A fist pounded into the elongated table. Despite the missing student being from the opposing homeroom, Vlad felt the noose of guilt around his neck as fiercely as Aizawa, though neither had voiced their sentiments. Between the round-up and evacuation, the two hadn't spoken much; not until now, in conference with the school board.

"We will comply fully with the police," Principal Nezu, always the voice of reason, kept his tone level. "We are sheep flocked by wolves; each of our next steps must be taken with precision. All Might, did you say Detective Tsukauchi is currently working on a strategy?"

Toshinori, distracted, sat up in his chair. Aizawa preferred him this way, rather than blathering on about his own misplaced woes. "Ah, yes."

"I'm assuming the plan will include making an evac-team," Toshinori nodded along to Midnight's words. "We should consider sending a few faculty members; some of our quirks may be of use, along with those who have good rapport with Bakugo."

"The kid ain't exactly what you'd call chummy," Snipe's boot spurs clinked against one another as he crossed his legs. "Eraser? As his homeroom teacher, you're probably the best bet, ain'tcha?"

No, not exactly. The words turned to concrete in his throat.
Principal Nezu, however, had other plans regardless.

"If what I've predicted comes to pass, I believe the police's action will necessitate a distraction. Someone must draw the eye of the League when the task force makes their move," Nezu turned his attention to the men on his left. "The league's and the media's."
The dawning realization felt like a sucker punch. "You want us to get in front of the media." Aizawa said.

"That doesn't help our problem with Bakugo, however," Midnight argued. "All Might, I'm sure you'll be asked to participate- what about Tsutomi?"

Damn it. He'd hoped the out of sight, out of mind trope would play into effect here, but Kayama's eyes only widened with her words. "If you'll be with her, there won't be concern over her safety."
"She's currently occupied elsewhere," Aizawa heard himself say. At that, Toshinori blinked.
"You haven't contacted her?"
Aizawa hesitated. "No."
"She could help; she'd want to help" Midnight countered, voice rising.

The minute his adrenaline slowed, the safety of every student minus one accounted for, his mind had went to her, to the cell phone lying dormant in his pocket. The ache to simply hear her voice, to be completely assured she was safe and alive and in one piece, nearly crippled him. By his math, more than two weeks had already passed in Tempus. Two weeks of doubtless blood and sweat, in the company of one of the fiercest heroes alive. What state would she be in? Were her muscles made anew, or would she be in a chrysalis, caught in the in-between?
His thumb hovered over call for what felt like hours; last night, this morning, then finally sitting in his car, outside of UA, tormented in the potential consequences of his weakness.
But Midnight was right; Chiyo would want to help, like a moth to flame.

"If All Might will be involved, that's enough," He needed to kill this before they pondered Chiyo's use of submersion as a liquid sonar. "Tsutomi is untrained and unlicensed- practically a civilian." Chiyo, who could handle teenagers but clammed up in every faculty meeting, too timid to even voice a question. "The media would eat her alive if they spotted her."

"He has a point," Toshinori agreed slowly. At last, on the same page. "-but I think leaving her in the dark is a poor decision."
Of course. "She's not involved in this situation-"
"She will be once the week is up though, won't she." Toshinori declared, rather than asked.

The air turned thick with the sudden quiet.
Toshinori held his stare, stubborn in his inflated righteousness, but the sensation of being watched by the others was beginning to feast on Aizawa's exposure. How many people had known, and how many would be able to piece it together now, as he expressed his discontent with involving the woman he had been most against hiring, voice far more emotional than it should be in regards to a platonic coworker?
Aizawa reigned in his breathing. Like a turtle in its shell he retreated into his scarf, feigning stubborn disinterest to save whatever scraps of aloofness he had left.

Principal Nezu finally broke the silence with a sigh.

"Eraser is right: there's no reason to potentially give the media another reason to attack UA. Now, if we may return to the task at hand…"

The blonde scarecrow found him after the meeting, hand heavy on his shoulder. Aizawa ran through a series of possibilities before slowing his pace. If I ignore him, he'll just follow me home.

"All Might."
"I won't tell her," Toshinori wasted no time with fake formalities, eyes piercing in his concave skull. "It's not my place. But if the roles were reversed, I wonder what she would do in your place."

He was comparing apples to oranges. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

And with that, Aizawa stalked out of the hallway, hands buried in pockets and steps measured.
Toshinori had a maddening way of slipping under his skin. What would Chiyo do in his place? Worry. Blame herself. Worry some more. He knew this because the feelings were burning him alive, acid into a raw wound. Why put her through needless pain?

But that's not the only reason, is it.

Katsuki Bakugo hadn't been abducted by any gutter trash- he'd been taken by the League, picked out specifically by Tomura Shigaraki. Chiyo might see this as her own fault, for having brought Bakugo to Shigaraki's doorstep during Operation Submersion, or worse.
Something Kaminari said on the bus had been plaguing Aizawa like locusts ever since, clicking the words across his brain in a repetitive, shortened sequence.

'Tsutomi's quirk would work in the opposite direction and dry out the water instead.'

Quirk genetics weren't always identical; sometimes they shared an elemental link, but the usage could vary so dramatically the relationship between the two would be virtually non-existent.

Or, at least, to someone who wasn't looking closely.

His stomach was a sinking pit of tar, recalling her words on the beach.
There's something connecting us.

Aizawa shook himself free of the spiral, focused back on reality.
He would play the perfect distraction. All Might and the others would safely rescue Bakugo.
And then she would return from training, bright-eyed and excited, where he could relay all that had happened in the comfort of their home, speak as if the events were from a distant fairy tale, where the ending involved a happily ever after and the hero saved the day.

Tsukauchi's call came through; Nezu's predictions were reality.
This time tomorrow, Katsuki Bakugo would be safe, with Chiyo none the wiser.


A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! I'm late in posting because someone mentioned seeing Aizawa's perspective, so I actually wrote a new chapter to compare their journeys. Thank you for the suggestion, and I hope it lives up to expectation!
I like the psychology behind motive and thought, especially in people who might not realize how trauma and/or change is effecting them. Working through Aizawa's thoughts is both fun and stressful.
Did you catch the dates/times? Aizawa would've been contemplating calling Chiyo around the same time she was, the day she went to visit her mother.
I'm so excited for the chapters to come. I hope you are, too!