Chapter 7

(y/n) = your name

(l/n) = last name

Aizawa continued to eat meals with her for the next week and a half. It was rather awkward on Friday, when Izuku joined them as well. After that night, they all agreed that the weekends should be family exclusive dinners. There must be nothing worse, (y/n) mused, than busying yourself with hiding peas in your mashed potatoes only to look across the table, and lock eyes with your homeroom teacher. Or to be absolutely inhaling a slab of steak like a god damn animal, and then pausing just long enough to realize that one of your students has been watching on in morbid fascination for the last minute and a half. Or at least, that's what (y/n) assumed as she observed her two companions that evening.

(y/n) was really starting to like having the company around. She'd been alone for so long, that the sudden companionship was very refreshing.

On the other hand, Aizawa was really starting to appreciate her taste in music. The grooving melodies were not what he'd usually listen to on his own, but coupled with the sight of (y/n), singing along as she gracefully maneuvered her way around the kitchen just really gave him a new appreciation for the tunes. Especially when her hips swayed sensually to a chord in a way that med his eyes lock on to the movement.

A few times, he'd attempted to assist her with the cooking, but she'd always say something like: "Excuse me, but in this house, the mortally wounded do not help with the chores." Or "Cripples are exempt from kitchen duty." Before she would shoo him back out of the kitchen area. He scoffed. His wounds were still bandaged up, but he was doing a lot better than he had been a week ago. Honestly, at this point, the bandages were more of an excuse to keep eating such good food with a fun, pretty woman.

They still poked fun at each other all the time, but now it was more just friendly banter. All the previous venom had been removed from the playful barbs they tossed at each other.

Mochi seemed to warm up to him in a way that was surprisingly like how his owner had. The first few encounters were hostile, but after seeing Aizawa enough times, the beast slowly warmed up to him. Now, Aizawa was petting the cat with his non-mummied hand. "He's a beautiful cat." He said to (y/n). She twirled around to face him with a rice ball in her hand. "I know, huh?" "What breed is he?" she smiled and started to cha-cha her way over to them, to a Spanish song she'd informed him was titled 'Bamboleo'. "He's a Maine Coon. You can tell, because he's so freakishly huge. Those suckers get big." Aizawa scratched the cat behind his ears, which Mochi very much appreciated, as he began to rub his face all over the hand that was touching him. "who's my guy, Moch?" (y/n) asked, as she leaned down and allowed her face to be in reaching distance of the cat. Mochi immediately shunned Aizawa, in favor of rubbing his face against (y/n)'s. "I've never seen a cat do that before." Aizawa stated, surprised.

(y/n) pulled back "Yeah, they don't usually, because touching nose to nose really puts a kitty in a defenseless position. They only really do it when they whole-heartedly trust another animal." Huh. Aizawa thought. (y/n) took the small rice ball she'd had in her hands, and placed it next to the cat on his perch before extending a hand to Aizawa as the chorus of the song began to sound "Would you like to dance, you mummified Hot Topic model?" Aizawa just sighed. "Just be careful with me, I'm a cripple, remember?"

She giggled as she carefully held onto the cast around his hand and began to lead him through the steps of a semi-salsa dance. "And where do you keep getting Hot Topic from?" She gave an amused, closed mouth chuckle. "Have you seen your wardrobe, Pro Hero? I don't think you own a single shirt that's got even the slightest bit of a warm color on it." She had so many nicknames for him at this point he stopped counting. Hot Topic, Cripple, Pro Hero, she even called him 'Stud' once, but he'd questioned her on it, and she became so flushed and mortified that she never did it again. All he'd ever called her was (l/n). If he tried calling her something else, he was sure she'd hound him about it for days.

She finished off their little dance by dipping him and laughing at his surprised expression. She pulled him back up before she went back towards the kitchen. She paused to talk to him from over her shoulder. "Oh, dinner's ready, by the way." Her dancing was filled with passion and grace as the song began to descend into a big finish.

The Sports Festival was right around the corner, and Aizawa was confident that his students would do well. They'd done extraordinarily well against those villains, they could handle a sports festival, right? The only student that really had him worried was Midoriya. And not because he was afraid the kid would do poorly. No, it was because he was afraid the kid would push himself too hard. Over the course of the two months (y/n) had been his neighbor, he'd heard her fuss over all the breaks and bruises she discovered on Deku's body through the thin wall that separated their apartments. It always sounded like it killed her a bit to see Midoriya injured, and if he got seriously injured because of an event or from his own quirk, Aizawa knew damn well (y/n) was going to talk his freaking ear off about it next time they ate together.

If he was being honest with himself, it also didn't sit very well with Aizawa whenever (y/n) was upset about something. His stomach tied in knots whenever he saw her fret over anything. The reason why that would happen was still very much a mystery to him, though.

The day of the sports festival arrives, and Aizawa finds himself in the announcer stand with Yamada. In between the first and second event, Aizawa's companion elbows him. "Ruh-roh." The raven-haired male looked confused. "What?" Yamada motioned towards the door to the announcer's booth. "Look at who's sitting right next to us." Sitting in a stadium seat directly outside the door was (y/n), and Mrs. Midoriya. It seems the two had come to cheer on their favorite up-and-coming hero. "Her being here isn't gonna be a problem, right? As hot as she was when she was yelling at you, I don't think it'd be appropriate for an announcer to start an argument with an audience member." Aizawa hid his chuckle behind a forced cough. "No. There isn't going to be an issue." Yamada gave him a weird look but didn't say anything else before he started to announce the next part of the festival.

For the next few minutes, he had trouble focusing on what was happening in the arena, as he kept sneaking glances at (y/n). Now that he knew that his good friend was here, mere yards away from him, he really wanted to walk out and greet her. He hadn't seen her since dinner last Thursday, and even though he was supposedly seeing her for dinner tonight, he still felt the need to go converse with her. It wasn't until she started cheering and bouncing up and down due to whatever was happening in the arena that he even bothered looking to see what was going on.

Down below, he saw Midoriya, fighting a kid with wild, purple hair. Now that kid has potential. "Hey. Midoriya's opponent. What class is he in?" Yamada seemed to check the screens in front of him. "He's in the general studies program, I think." Now that can't be right. Aizawa became determined to take that kid under his wing. Shinsou…I'll remember that.

He'd forgotten all about (y/n) being in the stands directly across from him, right up until the battle between Bakugo and Uraraka. Right after Shouta finished hushing the crowd over their largely unneeded fuss, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. Whipping his head to the side, Shouta catches sight of what (y/n)'s doing. There's a guard rail directly in front of her, and she's leaning dangerously far over it. Her hands are cupped around her mouth, completely disregarding any sort of precaution for tipping over and falling into the stands below. He has the sudden urge to rush out and pull her away from the edge. To pull her to safety, and to keep her there. He's pulled out of his thoughts by her distinct, feminine voice as she calls over the murmur of the crowd. "You've got 'em right where you want him, Sweetheart!" Shouta turns to look back at the fight. God damn, she's right. Several hundred tons of debris is currently floating above the arena, all prepared to fall directly onto Bakugo. Atta Girl. Aizawa thought, proudly.

After the Festival ended, and Bakugo had been announced the winner, Aizawa began to make his way over to wherever (y/n) was. She and her sister had gotten lost in the crowd during the closing ceremonies, but he was finally able to catch up with her. He found her, surrounded by Class 1A. They were like seagulls surrounding a bag of chips. "What about my performance, what did you think about mine?" Denki asked her with a blush dusting his cheeks. "Umm, honestly? I think the only fight I really witnessed you in was the one where Pinkie over there served you your own ass." The rest of the class began to laugh as Denki pouted. God only knows how she ended up with all his students. Perhaps life just liked to punish him. As soon as he approached, Class 1A went quiet, the memory of the last time they saw the two adults converse still fresh in their minds. "(l/n). I see you're still trying to steal my students from me." She smirked. "Only the good ones. You can keep Mineta." The boy in question seemed hurt, but in all fairness, he was attempting to peak up the woman's skirt at the moment. "That doesn't seem like a very fair compromise." She seemed to give it a thought. "Mmm how about we share joint custody or something." "Goodbye, (l/n)." She pouted a bit, before waving at the kids that surrounded her, and saying "I need to go visit Deku in the nurse's office anyway. Goodbye Kids!" she made her way past him, putting a hand on his shoulder, as she did so. "See you later tonight, Shouta." And then she was gone, disappearing around the corner. He put on his best poker face for his students, all of whom seemed shell shocked at the completely shifted dynamic between Deku's aunt and the Pro Hero. "Alright, go change back into your uniforms for afternoon announcements. I'll see you all back at the classroom." As soon as the last one had disappeared into the locker rooms, he put his head in the hand that wasn't all bandaged. What the hell was that? Everything about (y/n)'s last sentence was so… sensual. The implication of seeing him later, on top of her using his first name out of the blue… What the hell had she just done to him? Had she even meant to make his face feel this hot? Why was she doing this to him?

"Dude." He heard a familiarly grating voice behind him "What the hell was that?"

Shouta sighed. "What do you mean, 'what the hell was that'?" Yamada rushed to his side as Aizawa attempted to leave him behind. "Last time I saw you with that woman, you two were ready to rip each other's throats out. Now you're all: 'I'll see you tonight, Shota'" He permeated that statement with a smooth, high pitched impersonation or the woman they were currently talking about. "I mean really, every time I looked over at you today, you were undressing her with your eyes. What the hell happened? Please tell me you aren't hate-fucking your neighbor. I called dibs on her, remember?" Aizawa had never, in his life, wanted to strangle anyone more than he wanted to strangle Present Mic.

"Not that it's any of your business, but after what happened at the USJ, we found some solid ground. Since I'm a bit crippled now, she's been making dinner for me on weeknights. She says she's paying me back for getting her nephew out of the villain attack safely." Yamada nodded along while Aizawa suddenly stopped and turned towards his companion.

"From what I remember from your last encounter with her, she wasn't overly enthusiastic about your advances. I think calling 'dibs' on her is a bit creepy, as well as overly ambitious. Knock it off. You sound like a jackass." Aizawa had continued walking after that, only to realize that Yamada hadn't followed him. He looked back over his shoulder at his long-time friend, who was currently smirking at him from his position farther down the hall.

"Dude. You've got it bad."