Chapter 4: training too hard

At the end of the day, Aizawa and Akane had a prior agreement to space out their trips home, lest they raise any questions. Unfortunately, and much to her surprise, Akane was not alone on her journey from school. Before she could even leave the building, Bakugou had her cornered in the hallway.

He folded his arms, scowling intensely as ever. "Look, I shouldn't have gone for you after the whistle." He took a deep breath, and then continued, much louder, "But at least you know never to underestimate me again!" He jabbed a finger at her. "Next time, you use your quirk on me, or don't bother fighting me at all, you understand?!"

Akane returned his glare with a blank, uninterested expression. "Uh-huh."

Without another word, she pushed past him and made for the doors, Bakugou seething behind her. Just as she got to the doors, Midoria and Ida jumped out at her, wearing matching expressions of concern and excitement.

"Hi Akane!"

"Good afternoon, Akane!"

Akane blinked. "Hi. Again." She continued through the doors, walking outside and down the front steps. Midoria and Ida followed close behind her.

"How are you feeling?" Midoria asked.

"As class representative, I wanted to check on you one last time before you left school grounds."

She didn't really know what to say, so just kept walking, hoping they'd leave her alone. She knew she should be glad — one of the reasons Aizawa insisted she come to U.A was to make friends and have a normal life. But this was too much too soon. She wasn't ready. She couldn't help herself, looking around for Aizawa, for someone to take her away from this overwhelming social setting.

"Akane," Midoria's voice was softer now. "Are you okay?"

"You're white as a sheet," Ida noted.

Akane stopped in her tracks, trying to steady her breath. She stared at her feet, horrified to see she was shaking.

"I need to go," she said, and abruptly took off.

Midoria and Ida watched her leave, more concerned than ever. She disappeared around a corner before they turned back to each other, unsure what to do.

"That was worrying, to say the least," Ida said.

"Should we….tell someone?"

"Mr Aizawa did seem particularly concerned with her."

Midoria frowned, thinking "I don't think she'd appreciate that much. Maybe we should let her be, for now. Check in again tomorrow."

Ida nodded. "Agreed."

The boys made their own ways home, this mysterious new girl stuck on their minds the whole way.

xxx

Akane was grateful to be the first home, able to get into her training gear and take to the punching bag without being restrained or chastised by Aizawa. She didn't know how long she'd have before he got back, but it didn't matter. If she didn't start work right this instant, she was going to fall apart, still shaking and short of breath, doing everything she could not to hyperventilate.

Her fists still bandaged up and stinging furiously, Akane attacked the punching bag with no mercy. She threw her full weight into each blow, holding nothing back, going at it as hard as fast as it took to drain the panicked energy out of her body. Maybe it was the pain, maybe it was the stress of the first day, maybe it was nothing at all, but each punch brought a traumatic flashback she'd worked so hard to suppress.

Blood.

Death.

Torture.

Please make it stop make it stop makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop—

Mid-punch, something snatched Akane's wrist. Her breath caught, seeing the tip of a white carbon-fibre scarf restricting her movement. She closed her eyes, trembling in effort — wanting to hit the punching bag, wanting to collapse, wanting these feelings to just end.

Before she knew what was happening, a strong and gentle pair of familiar hands guided Akane by her shoulders to the nearest chair. They sat her down, carefully, but her shaking just got worse.

"Akane." Aizawa's reassuring voice gave Akane the strength to open her eyes. Even on the brink of tears, she forced herself to look at him. His gaze was soft with concern, his posture open and unthreatening. He knew one wrong word right now, one wrong gesture, could send her to pieces, but it broke his heart time and time again to remember how badly someone had hurt her to make her this way.

Aizawa knelt down so he was at Akane's eye level, never taking his arms off her shoulders, keeping her grounded and secure.

"You're going to be okay," he told her. "Just breathe."

Suddenly Akane realized she was hyperventilating, lightheaded and dizzy.

"I know you're scared," Aizawa said. "But I'm here. You're safe. No one can touch you now."

Akane's fists tightened in her lap. They stung like crazy, fresh blood seeping through the gauze. She looked down, horrified by the sight of her own hands without the gloves, sick to her stomach.

"At me, Akane," Aizawa said. "Keep your eyes on me."

"My gloves —" she ground out. "You have—to get—away."

"Nothing bad is going to happen," Aizawa said. "I'm safe. You're safe. I just need you to look at me."

Finally, Akane forced her gaze back up. Aizawa nodded.

"That's good." He smiled. "Now, I'm gonna breathe in for five counts, and I want you to do it with me. Make sense?"

She managed to nod back. With that, Aizawa took in a deep breath, pulling one hand off of Akane's shoulder to count down from five on his fingers. He stared at her intently the whole time, pained by the anguish on her face as she struggled to follow his example.

"And out for five," he continued.

They went at this for a few minutes, Akane getting better and better as they went on. She couldn't quite get her hands to stop shaking, but her breath finally steadied enough to clear the traumatic fog of memory and ground her in reality. Aizawa raised his eyebrows, wordlessly waiting for her to come back to him.

Akane nodded, slower this time. "Thanks," she murmured.

Aizawa squeezed her shoulder. "You did good."

She arched an eyebrow, giving him a look that said You've gotta be joking.

"The attacks are getting shorter," he insisted. "You should be proud of yourself."

She sighed. "Whatever."

Aizawa stood up. He offered her a hand. Defeatedly, she took it, and let him help her up. Her legs were still shaky, so she gripped him for a moment to stabilize, and then sharply let go. Before he could argue, she strode across the room and quickly snatched up her black gloves, forcing them on over her bloodied bandages.

Aizawa rubbed his forehead. "You really don't have to do that."

Akane's jaw hardened. "I can't risk hurting you."

"I'm Eraserhead, remember?" He said. "Even if you tried, I could stop your quirk in an instant."

"Yeah, well." She turned her back to him. "It's a risk I'm not willing to take."

Aizawa smirked. "Really got a soft spot for me, huh?"

"Shut up."

"Don't be stupid, kid," Aizawa said. "You know I have to patch those knuckles up again anyway. Gloves off."

Scowling hard to conceal the nausea still rising in her throat just at the thought of seeing her hands again, Akane followed Aizawa into the kitchen. She took a seat at the counter and waited for him to bring out the first aid kit.

Sitting down next to her, Aizawa opened up the first aid kit. He sighed, seeing how little materials were left.

"You keep this up and we're gonna have to start raiding the infirmary."

Akane didn't see the humour, or didn't want to. "Sorry," she murmured.

Aizawa paused. He examined Akane's face, realizing she was only scowling to hide something much worse. Against his moral judgement, he knew he still had to get her to take off those gloves so he could treat her injuries.

"Akane," he urged, very gently. "Your hands."

Doing her best not to start shaking again, Akane slowly pulled her gloves off. As much as she didn't want to, she couldn't help but look at her hands. The mangled, crusty bandages, dried blood, calloused palms, it was all too much. She sucked up a breath, overwhelmed with nausea.

Aizawa frowned. "You alright —?"

She had already jumped up and dashed for the bathroom, just making it in time to hurl in the sink. Her shoulders shook, body heaving, and she closed her eyes tightly. So caught up in the horrible moment, she hardly registered Aizawa tentatively putting a hand on her back and pulling her hair off her face.

"Let it out, kid," he sighed.

With a final couple of wet coughs, Akane was finished. Breathing hard, she leaned against the sink, and was quick to flip on the faucet to wash her sick away. Aizawa handed her a towel to wipe off her face.

"Feel better?" He asked.

She nodded.

"Am I gonna have to blindfold you every time we deal with those hands from now on?"

"Mm," she gave a single, bitter laugh. "Maybe."

Carefully, Aizawa guided her back to the kitchen. He sat her down at the table and, for once, she held out her hands without protest. She made a point of looking away, not that there was anything left in her stomach to puke up should she get nauseous again.

"You barf on me," Aizawa warned, "and I'll ground you for a year."

Finally, he got a real smile out of her. She seemed to relax a little, letting Aizawa treat her knuckles without any complaint or resistance. That one smile took a lot of work, but Aizawa wouldn't have given it up for the whole world. He knew this girl had a lifetime of stolen smiles he had to help her make up for.

"All done," he said, applying the final layer of fresh gauze. "Now come on, I gave you guys a tonne of homework. Better get started."

Still smiling that beautiful, rare smile, Akane nodded. She stood up and crossed the room to collect her homework out of her bag. As she took it away to her desk, Aizawa called out.

"Need anything, kid?"

She paused and smirked at him over her shoulder. "Redbull?"

At that, he had to grin. "Chip off the old block."