The air is tight.

That's the first thing Mezo notices. He knows he's breathing, can feel his chest rise and fall but he doesn't quite feel like he's getting enough oxygen. His mask- his protection, his shield- feels oppressive. His hands clench to keep from pulling, tearing at it. He's surrounded by his classmates as they change out of their gym clothes and into the uniforms. He has to keep himself composed- or else they might see.

''You're so gross to look at''

Mezo shudders as the words ring in his head. The voice is soft and pretty but the words are sharp and cut him like a knife. But it doesn't matter. He's had worse than school yard taunts spat in his face; sometimes literally. He shouldn't be upset by this.

So he stays silent and buttons his shirt. He's at UA after all. He can't be making a fuss because some girl said some stupid comments about him. But his head is starting to feel... cottony and his stomach is churning restlessly. And he's starting to tremble. He hopes and prays no one will look too closely and see how weak his legs are. He leans his shins against the bench to help him keep himself upright.

He needs to get away.

His eyes are starting to burn but he holds back the tears. He's good at that. But the effort it's taking to keep up the act... it's tiring. He's already tired out from the intense training they've just done. He's quickly approaching exhaustion. He just needs to escape to his room and be alone.

''I don't want to look at you any more''

Who does? That's why he hides himself away, after all. So no one has to look at him. But her face- round cheeks and wide eyes- shifts in his mind to the last face who saw him. He shudders and pushes it down. No. He will not think of that. He refuses, even as his air supply seems to become even thinner and the roiling of his stomach amps up.

He wants- needs- to get away.

But he can't. This is the last lesson of the day. He can't skip out, can't leave early. Not that he would if it was any other period. This is UA. He can't skip lessons because he feels a bit sad or a bit sick.

By now, he's changed into his uniform but he doesn't dare sit down in fear that he won't be able to get back up. Iida is harrying the stragglers. Mezo can see his exaggerated robot gestures, but his voice is watery and distorted.

In the back of his mind, Mezo thinks that that probably isn't good. But he can't bring himself to care.

He shuffles out of the changing room with the rest of the boys and they converge with the girls outside. Aizawa herds them together and says something. Mezo can't hear it.

Whatever their teacher had to say is brief and he starts leading the class back to the dorms. Mezo keeps his gaze resolutely ahead of him, focusing on the back of Aizawa's head to keep him moving. His legs are numb and weak. But Mezo can't think about it, otherwise he fears he'd collapse.

He avoids the eyes of his classmates. He cannot handle a conversation. He feels nauseous just thinking it, but he's somewhat glad of his intimidating appearance and reserved demeanour: it keeps his classmates away when he doesn't invite them in.

A face- scared and innocent- flashes in his mind and Mezo chokes on his own breath. Why would he think that? He should not be glad about how horrible he looks.

''It's disgusting''

Mezo wants to cry. It's not fair. He didn't choose this. It's not his fault. So why does everyone scorn him and cast him aside, as if he's something lesser. Why? He's the same as anyone else underneath the mask and the tentacles and the height.

He wants to cry.

But he can't yet. The friendly chattering of his classmates, the pounding of their footsteps is an oppressive wall around him. He can't break here.

The dorm building is in sight now. A rush of relief stills the thudding of his chest and his lungs take in an easy breathe for just a moment.

"... lab..."

That one word pieces the muffle of his ears and crushes that hint of calm instantly. Abruptly, all air is pushed out from Mezo's lungs and the pounding of his heartbeat is starting to build a headache.

He doesn't know who said it. He doesn't think they were talking about him in any way. But it brings another comment to his mind.

''You should be in an science lab''

He needs to get away. His skin is hot and itchy. He just needs to get away. He can get himself together and continue his day like nothing happened.

He practically staggers into the lift. With the way the world is tilting around him, either he's swaying or the floor is. Chances are it's him. But no one comments on it, so he can at least be thankful for that.

He's got the lift to himself so he leans heavily against the wall. His ragged pants echo loudly in the metal box. A strangled whine escapes Mezo's throat.

When the door opens, he sprints to his room. His steps are uneven and he stumbles several times but he needs, needs, needs the quiet of his room.

Slamming the door behind him, he gags on a sobs and just falls to the ground. The repressed moans and whimpers pour uncontrollably out of him and hot tears scald his face. He crawls to his futon, shedding his shoes, tie and jacket.

The perks of multiple limbs.

''Those arms are creepy''

Mezo shrieks when the voice rings again in his head. He doesn't mean to be scary. He doesn't want to be scary. Why can't anyone see that? Why can't anyone see him? See who he is inside?

He reaches the futon and curls up in the soft blankets and lies there shaking. He knows he shouldn't be acting like this, but he can't stop. He can't push this storm down. He can only pray that no one finds him like this.

After all, why would UA keep a hero who looks so monstrous and can't handle a few silly taunts.

Pathetic.

He can't blame them for being scared, disgusted, because he is scary, he is disgusting. How can he fault any of them?

Maybe it is his fault.

''Go away''

He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't have taken this spot. There are so many other students who deserve it more, who would be infinitely greater heroes than he could ever hope to be.

Mezo sobs again. A rush of heat fills his body and he feels itchy and disgusting all over again. His tentacles are the worst, so distorted and putrid.

He can't breathe.

He can't breathe.

He can't breathe.

It's his mask. It's strangling him. His shield is killing him. If Mezo was struggling to think before, his brain shuts down. He's dying. He's dying. He must be dying. With a scream, he tears his mask off, ripping it apart and thowing it away. But it's not enough. He can feel the disfurement of his mouth, and the nausea is pressing in on him. In desperation, he reaches up and claws at his mouth. Maybe he can fix it. He can fix it. He doesn't need to look so frightening and awful. But black spots are filling his eyes, something hot is dripping down his face and he can't- can't- can't

"Shoji!"

The voice outside his door startles him and he cries out. Who's out there? What are they going to do to him?

"Shoji I need you to let me in."

Mezo knows that voice but the name can't break through the fog coating his mind. He tries to croak out a reply, assure whoever it is that he's alright. But all that comes out is a strangled sob.

"I'm sorry but I'm coming in."

The door swings open and a tall dark figure steps inside, gently closing the door. "Shoji," Aizawa murmurs. He takes in the torn and tosses mask, the blood across Mezo's face. Mezo realises Aizawa's eyes are on him and screams again. He folds his arms around himself. He hides behind his tentacles, clasping his hands to his mouth to hide the gruesmone state of his face.

Aizawa merely sinks quietly to the floor in front of Mezo. "Shoji. I need you to take a deep breath for me."

"Can't." Mezo whimpers.

"Yes, you can," Aizawa says, "You're strong. You can get through this." His voice is as monotone as ever, but Mezo can hear the undercurrent of concern. He just doesn't think he can do what his teacher is asking.

"Shoji. It's alright if you need to hide. But I need you to do as I tell you. Take a deep breath."

Mezo tries. It's stuttered and stunted and he cries again. But Aizawa nods encouragingly. "Well done. Now another."

Mezo does so. It's still shaky and shallow but it's easier. Aizawa praises him again and encourages him to take another breath. Then another. And another. Mezo can feel the tension start to drain away as Aizawa prompts him to keep up his mechanical breathing. Exhaustion sits heavy on his shoulders and weighs down his eyelids. He slumps.

Aizawa's still sat there, looking at him more softly than he's ever seen from his stony teacher. Mezo thinks he should say something to reassure his teacher, so he doesn't waste more of his time but his voice won't work and he can't find the words.

Aiawa talks instead.

"You don't need to talk. But I don't want to leave you alone right now. I can stay or get someone else if you prefer."

Mezo thinks for a moment. Aizawa's presence is sturdy and safe. He feels secure with him around. But at the same time, he wants someone who truly understands the pain he's in. Someone who he trusts and hopes won't judge him.

"Can-" His hoarse voice cracks, "Can you stay? But get Tokoyami too? Please?"

"Of course, kid."

Instead of getting up and leaving like Mezo expects, Aizawa merely pulls his phone out his pocket and types something. Right. Of course- Aizawa had given them all his phone number, with express instructions to only use it during an emergency, and taken all of theirs when they moved into the dorms. Of course he wouldn't leave a troubled student's side. This cements Mezo's decision to trust his teacher.

It's only a minute or two before there's another knock at the door. Mezo hears Aizawa rise and open it. There's a shuffling of footsteps and then two bodies sit down next to him.

"Hello Shoji." To his credit, Tokoyami doesn't seem phased by the cuccoon of limbs Mezo is hiding in. And he's grateful beyond belief.

"Toko..." Mezo tries to reply back, to reassure his friend that he really is alright, but his words fail before they even get past his horrible lips.

Betrayed again by his horrific body.

"Shoji. You're bleeding," Tokoyami says, "Can you let Aizawa Sensei see?"

Mezo flinches and whimpers. How can Tokoyami know? He can't see Mezo's mouth. Did Aizawa tell him? Then he feels soft fingers trace one of his arms and also a wetness. Oh. There's blood on his arm. It must have dripped there during his savage scratching. Mezo curses himself. He doesn't want anyone to worry about him. He doesn't deserve that.

"Shoji." Tokoyami says again.

"No!" Mezo gasps, "Too gross."

"Too gross? Shoji, I don't understand." Tokoyami says.

"Face," Shoji moans, "Too gross. Scary. Don't want you to see." His eyes are wet and burning. His throat is tight.

"Shoji," This time it's Aizawa who speaks, "I don't care what you look like. Tokoyami doesn't care what you look like. We just want to make sure you're alright. Can you let us do that?"

Aizawa's voice is kind- soft and soothing. Underneath the panic and fear clouding him, Mezo trusts his teacher. Trusts him perhaps more than anyone else. Except Tokoyami. So if Aizawa says that they won't care what he looks like, maybe they won't. This isn't a logical ruse, is it?

No. Mezo doesn't think it is. If Aizawa wanted to expel him, he would. He wouldn't trick him into revealing himself to be rid of him.

His body is quaking as he pulls his limbs away, letting them flop exhaustedly at his sides. His hands are still clamped across his jaw and he can't move them.

"Shoji," Aizawa says, "It's alright. You can do this."

"Please." Tokoyami adds and that plea twists Mezo's heart. Tokoyami's voice is quiet and gentle. More open than Mezo's ever heard from him before.

With a wrenching cry, Mezo pries his hands from his face and shuts his eyes, flinching away.

"Oh. Is that all?" Tokoyami says lightly. There's almost humour in his tone.

"Huh?" Mezo croaks.

Tokoyami reaches a hand out and traces Mezo's jawline. Just shy of the gaping mouth. His finger is soft. And his eyes- his eyes are kind. Mezo stares into them, searching them desperately. And finds no judgement. No scorn. No horror. Tokoyami truly doesn't care about his garish appearance. Doesn't care about the way his lips are pulled back to exaggerate the wide shape of his mouth. Doesn't care about his long, jagged teeth that his lips cannot hide.

Truly doesn't care.

"You're still bleeding slightly." Aizawa says.

Truthfully, Mezo was in such awe of Tokoyami's acceptance that he'd forgotten about their teacher.

"Can I look at your cuts?" Aizawa asks.

Mezo nods as he searches Aizawa's face. He finds the same thing. No judgement. No scorn. No horror. Just acceptance.

Aizawa shuffles closer with a first aid kit in hand. All the dorm rooms have them. He quietly cleans the scratches Mezo inflicted and dabs them with antiseptic cream, before pressing plasters over them.

"Thank you, Sensei." Mezo murmurs.

"No problem," Aizawa replies, "But I do have to ask what brought this on so we can make sure it doesn't happen again- or at least reduce the risk."

Mezo averts his eyes. "It doesn't matter." He mumbles. He doesn't want to get Pony in trouble. She didn't really do anything, after all.

"Yes it does," Tokoyami says, sounding like he's holding himself back, "Anything that upsets you so must be taken seriously."

"Tokoyami's right. I need to know, as your teacher, a hero and your guardian while you reside in the dorms." Aizawa says.

Mezo whimpers slightly.

"It was to do with the training session, wasn't it?" Tokoyami says.

Mezo's eyes snap towards him in surprise. Tokoyami shrugs, but there's a slight embarrassed puff to his feathers. "You weren't yourself after."

"It was just... that girl, Tsunotori. She just said some things. And I suppose it brought back memories of... worse things." Mezo haltingly explains. He can't bring himself to look up at his companions.

"I see. I'll have a word with Vlad King. What kind of things did she say?"

Mezo shrugs. "It was just silly stuff. Monoma probably taught her and she was copying him."

"That doesn't matter, Shoji. If it's upsetting you, it needs to be dealt with. I'd rather deal with the silly stuff now than have it evolve into a bigger issue down the line." Aizawa says. He's nearly stern but the kindness remains across his face.

"Just... about my appearance. Compared me to an octopus a lot. Which is my fault- I incorporated it my hero name, but..."

"She called you 'gross', Shoji." Tokoyami interrupts.

Aizawa frowns. "I'll be talking to Vlad King and make sure he deals with this. That's unacceptable behaviour. If she's learning it from Monoma, then he'll share in her punishment."

"Okay..." Mezo whispers. Tears are collecting on his lashes and he wants to stop them but nothing seems to be able to.

"Shoji? What's wrong?" Tokoyami exclaims.

"How... How come you care about me? And don't care about... But... no one else does?"

Before either could say anything, Mezo bursts into tears, openly sobbing. "My own parents didn't accept me and they've had 15 years. Yet you've done it in only a few minutes. I don't... I don't understand..."

"Oh, kid." Aizawa sighs and then Mezo's gently tugged into a warm embrace in his teacher's arms. A weight settles against his other side as Tokoyami presses himself against Mezo's side. Mezo pulls him closer.

"My dad's come around. But we're not close. And my mother... having me was a shock. And she never recovered. She doesn't talk to me if she can help it. I think she'd just prefer to forget she ever had me."

Tokoyami looks horrified but Aizawa is merely resigned. He remembers the Shoji parents from the visit about the dorms. A very disinterested woman with long straight hair who barely looked at her son the entire meeting and didn't resist him staying at UA and a tired looking man who just asked if Mezo would be safe there. Neither of them shared their son's most distinctive features, though he clearly inherited his hair and eye colour from his father.

Mezo turns slightly more towards Tokoyami when he speaks, as he knows Aizawa already knows what he explains. "My quirk is a mutation. It doesn't really come from either of my parents. Dad can enhance his senses and my mother has prehensile hair. So me looking like this was a shock. And where we live... there's not a lot of acceptance of people like me- us. And they just didn't cope..."

Both Aizawa's and Tokoyami's grip on Mezo tightens ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry, kid. Parents are hard." Aizawa says. Tokoyami doesn't know what to say and just stays silent.

"It's okay," Mezo says, "I'm here now. And it's better than I could've imagined."

"Just come to someone next time you feel like this," Aizawa says, "Me, another teacher, I'm sure Tokoyami would be available."

Tokoyami nods eagerly.

"You don't have to deal alone, okay. And you don't need to hide here either if you don't want to." Aizawa finishes.

"I know." Mezo says.

"You should stay with me during the next break." Tokoyami blurts out. His beak snaps shut and his eyes widen.

Mezo smiles. "I'd like that."

Tokoyami relaxes and seems very satisfied with that arrangement. Aizawa shakes his head but his lips twitch upwards imperceptibly in a fond smile.

"I'll leave you alone now. I'll bring some dinner up though."

"Thank you, Aizawa Sensei."

"Get some rest. You need it."