Aizawa was met with cries of shock, relief and doubt as he hobbled into homeroom, having escaped from hospital that morning. There was no mention of his scuffle with the villains. No exclamations of adoration. Kaminari called him a Pro— that was fact. He was just a Pro-Hero and a teacher doing his job by protecting his students. Thirteen and All Might had done the same. Anyone at U.A. would do the same.

Class 1-A didn't admire him any more than they had before, despite what Hizashi might think. Proof: The fuss over his well-being was forgotten as soon as they heard about the sports festival... Well, almost. There were some misgivings about the villains making another attack, but Aizawa quickly cleared that up, reminded them not to slack off and the class erupted into excited chatter. He dismissed them and they trickled out to lunch.

With his mouth and hands swathed in bandages, Aizawa was reduced to sucking food through a straw. He would quite happily spend lunch alone at his desk where All Might couldn't spoon-feed him in front of the entire faculty.

Taking a seat, he waited for the stragglers to leave. Asui and Ashido were whispering in the doorway. The two of them glanced at him. Aizawa sunk into his seat.

Why would they be gossiping about him? Maybe it was just his appearance. He didn't care if he looked like he'd crawled out of a tomb, but teenagers were obsessed with image, right?

Ashido took pride in being completely pink. She could relate to heroes like Mt. Lady (both of them had horns) and Pixie-bob from the Wild, Wild Pussycats. Heroes who mirrored her passionate nature.

Asui was calmer, less likely to be the hyper fangirl type. Understated heroes would garner her respect.

...Dammit.

"See you in the cafeteria," he heard Ashido tell Asui. Asui stepped into the room and approached his desk.

He shouldn't make assumptions based off Hizashi's teasing—

"Mr Aizawa?" (His eyes flicked to her.) "Mineta's a pervert."

It turned out Mineta was the obsessed one. Asui, utterly straight-faced, produced a list of his offences against the female members of their class.

Lunch would have to wait. "I'll speak with him. You have my permission to hit him if he starts acting up again."

Asui scratched her chin. "Thank you, Mr. Aizawa."

"Don't mention it." She was about to leave the room when Aizawa added, "If you have any other worries, Recovery Girl can help."

"Ribbit." He took that as an 'affirmative'.

Now he had a pest to hunt down. He located Mineta in the cafeteria (purple, grape-like hair was hard to miss) and quietly led him back to homeroom, ignoring Mineta's babbling until the door was shut.

Mineta latched on to his leg, wailing, "Don't expel meeee!"

"Haven't you heard of personal boundaries?" Aizawa drawled. He tried to free his leg but Mineta hung on with more force than a leech. "Let go and I won't expel you."

"P-promise?"

"Yes."

Mineta released him. That was a start.

Aizawa frowned down at him. "Do you know why I called you here?" He was one of the smartest in the class. Of course he knew.

"Because I called you a zombie behind your back?"

"Nice try. Guess again."

"The... girls?" His face turned a shade of grapefruit.

"Control yourself," Aizawa huffed. "Those girls aren't objects– they're your classmates and allies, deserving your respect." His sharp tone made Mineta shake. "The next time you step in here, you better have a lid on those hormones. Understand?"

"Y-yes, Sir."

Aizawa shooed him away with his hand.

Mineta gasped, "Y-you're not gonna punish me? At all?"

"Depends if you keep wasting my time."

Mineta darted out of the room. He'd been let off with a warning this time. (Aizawa owed him that— Mineta had helped carry him out of the USJ, after all.) He doubted Mineta would become a model classmate overnight, but he had the potential to learn.

If there were any more complaints from the girls, he would let Midnight deal with Mineta.

Aziawa had been planning to sleep through the festival's award ceremony once he was relieved of his co-commentator duties. Midnight would address the audience from here on out.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, earning a small chuckle from Hizashi.

"I feel you. That last match was hot."

Aizawa ignored his excitement along with the fireworks and the corny fanfare music. He could feel a headache forming at the very thought of Bakugo.

"Here come the winners! Don't you want to cheer for your kids, Shouta— oh. Yikes, that's rough even for Bakugo..."

What now?

Sitting up, he expected to see Bakugo throwing fire at Todoroki and Midnight trying to subdue him. The reality popped a vein in Aizawa's head.

Bakugo was ballistic, but who could blame him? He was strapped to a cement block on the first place pedestal, complete with shackles and a muzzle. He resembled a caged beast or a captured criminal.

The crowd was cheering. Cameras flashed at the pedestal. They were making a spectacle of him.

He deserved to be punished for his ruthless behavior– Aizawa already had detention in mind– but not for the world to watch.

Aizawa glared out their window.

"Want me to say something?" Hizashi offered as softly as he could manage.

"No." That would cause even more of a scene and Bakugo wouldn't appreciate their pity at all. It was best just to let the awards ceremony play out.

All Might dropped in to give the winners their medals and a hug (typical)… except for Bakugo. Clearly, All Might didn't approve of Bakugo's restraints. He removed the muzzle, at the very least. His grin was too forced as he presented Bakugo with his gold medal and swiftly turned away, spouting an uplifting speech. He didn't even finish with 'plus ultra', much to the crowd's complaints.

At long last, it was over. Tokoyami and Todoroki left their podiums, looking pensive and lost. Bakugo, still tied to his block, bellowed as the podium sank below the stadium grounds.

Aizawa heard Bakugo's curses on his way down to the podium lift.

"GET ME OUT OF THIS, BLOCK HEAD!"

By the time he got there, Cementoss had freed Bakugo from the block. All that remained were the excessive shackles and chains connecting him to the podium. Had Midnight suggested those...?

Aziawa cleared his throat. Cementoss looked at him, his expression as unreadable as Aizawa's.

"Who's idea was this?" Aizawa seethed as Cementoss stomped towards him.

"A mixture, but Principle Nezu gave the final word."

Of course, Aizawa thought. Nezu, subject of inhumane tests in the past, would see no trouble in tethering a teenage boy up like a rabid dog.

Cementoss jabbed a thumb in Bakugo's direction. "He blew up a medical bot the second he awoke from his last battle. We were worried he would go for Todoroki during the ceremony."

In that case, why wasn't he excluded from the ceremony altogether? Bakugo didn't even care about the awards. He would probably melt that medal later.

"I'll help you free him." Aizawa approached Bakugo and told him plainly, "I'm going to erase your Quirk—"

"I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY, OLD MAN!"

"—If you insist on impeding Cementoss, we'll leave you here for the night."

Bakogo bristled, but stopped thrashing.

Since Aizawa was still healing, Recovery Girl had ordered him to avoid using his Quirk unless there was an emergency. Now he understood why as his eyes flashed at Bakugo. For a second, his gaze was filled with blood and grit. Pain split across his skull.

Cementoss didn't break the shackles with his cement. (Nothing showy— one reason why Aizawa liked him.) He simply pulled out a key and unlocked them.

The instant the shackles were off, Aizawa blinked and returned Bakugo's Quirk. Sweat coated his forehead, concealed thanks to his bandages. Still, Bakugo stared at him as he rubbed his wrists. It was a good thing his temper had cooled for both their sakes. Aizawa wasn't sure if he could handle another round of Erasure.

"Let's go," he muttered and headed for the stairs. Bakugo, for once, obeyed without question, following him up and past the waiting rooms.

When they reached the door to the battle field, Aizawa halted him.

"Move—"

"I'm sure your classmates will forgive you, but there might still be some asshats lingering in the stands." The hecklers from his battle with Uraraka.

Balling his fists, Bakugo strode towards the door. "They don't scare me— hey! I don't want this damn thing!"

Aizawa had removed his scarf and dropped it over Bakugo's head. His chest felt a lot lighter without it.

"It'll keep your face somewhat hidden from the crowd and the cameras." He rolled his eyes as Bakugo wrestled with the scarf. "If you take it off or damage it, I'll activate the capture weapon." Actually, he could only do that while he was wearing it. Bakugo didn't need to know that though. He'd experienced the weapon's power during their Quirk Apprehension Test. Surely, he wouldn't want to relive that embarrassment.

Bakugo's fidgeting ceased. He snorted behind the scarf. "It stinks."

"Give it back to me when you return to class." Aizawa opened the door. Bakugo rushed out to join Kirishima and the others on the field. He received some odd looks and laughs from his peers, but the spectators in the stands barely noticed him. Maybe they would mistake him for a student from the Support Class with a stylish scarf. No one would recognize it as a weapon belonging to Pro-Hero Eraserhead.