Aizawa studies his students long before they even arrive.
He studies the videos of their exams, watching how they handle themselves and their Quirks. Some of them catch his eye, like the explosive boy who blasts through robots like they're nothing, but fails to get a single rescue point. Or the boy with the interesting Quirk that lets his extra limbs take on the form of virtually any body part. The girl with the gravity Quirk intrigues him, when she sends a robot into the air, only to drop it on top of another and score double points in one blow. It's smart, strategic, especially considering how draining her Quirk is.
But it's the boy with green hair who holds Aizawa's attention the most. He manages to come in second place almost purely from rescue points, and not just from the big rescue at the end with Gravity Girl - but because throughout the entire exam, he stops to help people. Sometimes he just pulls them to their feet, or offers them an encouraging smile - but he stops to help each time. Almost all his villain points end up being co-opted ones, shared with another examinee he was assisting.
Bakugo Katsuki gets in purely on villain points, but Midoriya Izuku gets in with almost purely rescue points instead. Some people, some lesser people in Aizawa's opinion, would conclude that that was just nature proving itself. After all, Bakugo is the big, strong, aggressive alpha, right? And Midoriya is the meek, caring omega, always putting others first.
Some people would conclude that.
Aizawa concludes differently. He watches the way Bakugo recklessly destroys robots left and right, sending debris flying without a thought for who might be close enough to be struck by them. He wears a vicious smirk the entire time, like he's getting a primal sense of enjoyment out of the destruction. He concludes that Bakugo has a potentially problematic streak of untamed aggression that hasn't been considered acceptable to society in several generations.
Then he watches Midoriya, observing the way he smiles so nervously, his hands shaking every time he reaches out, his anxiety palpable when the exam bell rings to an end. He watches the way Midoriya meekly lets Recovery Girl treat his few scattered injuries, his head kept down and his metaphorical tail between his legs.
Aizawa narrows his eyes dangerously.
He doesn't like the conclusion he's drawing.
He opens Midoriya's file for further investigation, noting what he'd already assumed from the exam. Quirkless. Omega, the file labels him simply, like those two factors are the sum of his person. It makes Aizawa sigh tiredly.
Society has come a long way from the early days. When Quirks first awoke, it was the very first break in the foundation that had upheld society for a millennia beforehand: That Alphas were the ones in charge, and Omega were useless for anything but caretaking and being cared for.
Quirks didn't differentiate between alpha and omega, was the thing that finally brought an end to that mindset. Alphas were just as prone to weak Quirks, omegas just as prone to ridiculously strong ones, as their counterparts were. It hadn't taken long for the freshly empowered omegas to realize they had their own superiority, now - the superiority over any, omega or alpha, who did not have a Quirk. Omegas took their first step towards achieving equality in an incredibly violent time, in the times of the First Quirk Wars, and it showed.
Omegas took their rights by claws and fang, and once they had a grip on it, they refused to ever let up. Omegas became equal to alpha, and slowly, the important thing stopped being gender and became Quirk-ness instead. If you had a Quirk, you were at the top of the food chain. If you were Quirkless, you were at the bottom. Then, as more people became Quirked, the status quo started to even back out again. It was no longer Quirked vs. Quirkless, or even Alpha vs. Omega, it was just society, finally taking the time to remember how to coexist without the constant violence of the Quirk Wars.
It took two hundred years since the Luminescent Baby for people to settle back down into peaceful, calm living. As the violence began to fade, peaceful minds began to take control again, guiding the reins of society. Instead of Quirked people ruling the Quirkless, it became about the Quirked protecting the Quirkless. A kinder, if still misguided opinion, Aizawa always thought. Eventually, things settled down enough that it became like the Golden Years of Pre-Quirk history.
Society had come a long way - but discrimination can still happen against anyone, no matter their circumstances. Quirkhood, gender, religions and skin colors - all these things that society had decided as a whole didn't matter, there were still plenty of people who still felt they did . The reality was, there were so many more who wanted a better life, that they kept the bigots in line.
...Most of the time.
As Aizawa studies the file of one Midoriya Izuku, he feels this may be a case where society as a whole managed to fail in spite of all their progress. On paper, the boy appears promising. His grades are the top in his class, except in two classes where Bakugo is leading and Midoriya's just behind. He has no complaints from teachers on file. His class participation is apparently mediocre, which Aizawa notes for later consideration. He glances at the video again, frozen on Midoriya, mid-flinch as Recovery Girl reaches for his wounded hand.
His eyes narrow dangerously.
He's not sure yet, but he's suspicious of Midoriya's circumstances. He'll be keeping a close eye on this one.
Aizawa Shota is thirty years old. He's also an unmated Alpha. This has never caused him regrets, but it does, occasionally, cause him grief. He's had a few unfortunate situations between himself and a few omega students who got too interested, but he doesn't know of any teacher who hasn't had such a situation at least once, mated or not. Aizawa doesn't consider it particularly of note that he's made it to thirty without bonding - plenty of people reach middle-age without a mate.
He'd never met an omega that particularly called to him. He wasn't like Hizashi, who walked into work his first day, met his new omega secretary, and instantly fell in love. He's not like Nemuri, who is relentlessly attracted to any alpha like herself and will never settle with one for more than a single day in her life. He's just more disinterested than not, honestly. Omegas smell good to him, so he's confident in his knowledge of his own sexuality, but he's never met one that called to him.
Every alpha and omega has a sense for how right someone would be as a mate for them, and Aizawa's just never met one who ranked particularly well on that scale.
Still, as an alpha, mated or unmated, he has certain drives and instincts that impact how he lives his life. One of them is his inherent, and admittedly somewhat extreme, protectiveness of those he labels his.
Most students who make it past the first week get labeled his. It's not always quick, and it's not always slow, but it's practically inevitable in the end.
He watches from the hallway as the students filter into his classroom for their first day. He can already hear the loudness of the explosive one, and the sternness of Tensei's little brother lecturing him. He comes to attention when he spots Midoriya, though, trudging down the hallway. The last to arrive to class. He keeps his head down a bit, ducked low, and he pauses just outside of the tower doors of Aizawa's classroom.
Aizawa's tucked into a small dip in the wall twenty feet away, and his eyes narrow at the way Midoriya practically shivers in his spot before he takes a breath and walks into the classroom. "YOU!" he hears Bakugo shout, and smells the faintest hint of fearful omega in the air.
It makes Aizawa's chest feel prickly as he proceeds to drop in on the class, waiting to see how long it'll take them to notice. Bakugo is shouting at Midoriya, who is stammering defensively while clutching his backpack, and the smell is stronger now.
It smells distinctly like distressed omega, and he can see the other students, the ones closest to the commotion, exchanging uneasy looks. No one has noticed him, and the scent is growing stronger, so Aizawa irritably intervenes.
"If you're here to start fights or socialize, then get out." He enjoys, in the safety of his own mind, the way they're stunned silent as they stare at him, laying there in a sleeping bag. He lumbers to his feet and trudges inside. "This is UA's Hero Course," he intones boredly, watching the students rush to their seats. "It took you eight seconds to settle down, which is unacceptable. Time is a precious resource, be logical about spending it," he lectures irritably, climbing free of his bag. "Now, change into your gym uniforms and meet me out front on the grounds."
He keeps it short and to the point, perhaps too much so, because the class just sits there stupidly for a moment before he impatiently arches a brow at them. "The locker rooms are that way," Aizawa points, and Tenya quickly leads the charge in filing out of the room.
Midoriya, Aizawa notes, is one of the last to filter out, nervously waiting until after Bakugo had gone. Todoroki waits behind as well, eyes locked on Midoriya intently, and it makes Aizawa's brow quirk again.
When Midoriya leaves, Todoroki is on his heels, and he decides to observe them later as well. Todoroki is one of the class' four other omegas this year, and he'd been close enough to be one of the ones looking uncomfortable with Midoriya's fear scent. Aizawa frowns softly for a moment before heading out onto the grounds himself to wait with the equipment. The teenagers file out promptly enough that it at least doesn't irritate him further. Midoriya and Todoroki come out last, side by side, and whatever happened in the five minutes of locker time is enough that they stick together when gathering up for the tests.
"You're all familiar with these tests," Aizawa sighs as he raises his voice a bit. "You've done them all in middle school. This time, you get to use your quirk. Bakugo, you're up," Aizawa beckons the boy forward, passing the teen alpha a ball once he's close. "Get in the ring and throw it as far as you can with your Quirk."
Bakugo nods, smirking smugly even as he steps into the line. He rears back to throw, thrusting his
arm out with an explosion that sends the ball skyrocketing. "DIE!" Bakugo screeches, and Aizawa's lip threatens to curl slightly.
Another sign that the boy takes a bit too much after the alphas of old. The so-called 'alpha-tude' had been a real problem. Alphas who prided themselves on their aggressiveness and inability to solve anything with anything except violence. The other students murmur about how impressive Bakugo's 700 meter score is, and Aizawa waves him back off to the group. "You'll all be doing these tests one by one. Whoever gets the lowest score will be expelled." Aizawa informs them curtly, ignoring the outrage and continuing with the task at hand.
Each student does well in at least one area. Even Mineta does well in the side-step, though he drags behind in everything else. Bakugo and Midoriya end up doing the meter dash together, and Bakugo uses explosions to propel himself, uncaring of how dangerously close one explosion gets to Midoriya's face. The boy has to flinch away from it, skittering forward and losing only a bare second off his total time. Aizawa notes the speed down with narrowed eyes, frustration growing with the boy. Midoriya recovers from it aptly, though, nervously inching back to Todoroki's side before brightening when the boy mutters something to him.
He's lagging behind, though. So long as Midoriya actually tries, Aizawa doesn't intend to expel him, but his Quirklessness is dragging his scores behind.
He needs more physical training... I wonder when Nezu will let me add a martial arts class to this school, Aizawa thinks tiredly, reaching up to rub at his achy eyes.
"Alright," Aizawa calls finally, when Midoriya throws the ball as the last task and gets the third lowest score in the class. "Everyone gather," Aizawa beckons, opening the hologram display to show the scoreboard. It takes only a moment for everyone to see Midoriya's name at the bottom, and Aizawa opens his mouth to correct them for their pitying looks.
"Hah! Useless fucking deku," Bakugo spits before he can, and Aizawa stiffens slightly. Midoriya flinches at the words, his head ducked low and looking dangerously close to crying. "You shouldn't have even come here, you Quirkless fuck," Bakugo snarls and Todoroki grabs hold of Midoriya's hand, shooting the blonde a vicious look.
"Be quiet," Aizawa growls, alpha voice resonating, and the entire class stiffens, heads ducking left and right. Only Bakugo seems determined to keep his head up, glaring at Aizawa, who feels his instincts flare with irritation at that. He stifles the urge to grab the kid by the scruff and give him an earful, instead leveling him with a flat glare. "UA doesn't tolerate discrimination in any form, and neither do I. Another word, Bakugo Katsuki, and I'll show you how little a Quirk matters to me and toss you straight into Gen Ed."
Midoriya's head pops up at that, his eyes wide in surprise, while Bakugo goes pale with anger. The boy says nothing though, almost audibly gritting his teeth.
"...Bakugo, you'll be staying after class to have a discussion with me." Aizawa says coldly, then flicks a glance over the rest of the class. "Get back in your uniforms. You'll be meeting your other teachers soon." Aizawa says dismissively, staying there and watching as the students leave. They talk quietly amongst themselves, some of them shooting Bakugo wary looks, some of them shooting Midoriya thoughtful ones. But they leave the two students alone, Bakugo trudging off alone while Midoriya lingers with Todoroki. This time, Uraraka stays behind as well.
She's another omega, so it's not strictly surprising - birds of a feather and such. Omegas are drawn to one another, just as alphas are to each other. Aizawa watches them for a moment, collecting the last of the discarded balls that are still salvageable. By the time he's done, they're heading back to
the locker rooms as well, and he silently heads to his classroom. It's almost lunch time, and he needs to plan for his talk with Bakugo.
He doesn't notice himself absently sniffing at the air, the soft scents of omega soothing the edges of his irritation.
He talks with Bakugo during the lunch break, and the kid sullenly agrees when Aizawa tells him to keep himself in check. No more talk of discrimination, no more aggression towards classmates.
Bakugo agrees and leaves to eat lunch, but Aizawa'd have to be an idiot to take his words at face value. The kid is an angry one. He decides to keep an eye on the kid instead, and even goes so far as to pull All Might aside, given the man has a class with them the next day. "I'm concerned about the aggression from Bakugo. It mostly seems targeted at Midoriya, but he's not much kinder to the other students. Keep an eye on him in your practicals," Aizawa warns and All Might grimly nods.
It's not good enough. Maybe Aizawa wasn't clear enough, maybe All Might's just too new to teaching, but he still pairs the two up in his practical that day. Aizawa's furious when he's called to respond to the scene, the smartest thing All Might could've done in response. Midoriya's already been carted away to be tended to by Recovery Girl when Aizawa strides in, finding most of the class standing there, pale faced. Bakugo looks slightly uncertain, but mostly stubborn as he stands there, All Might staring disapprovingly at him.
He strides up to them, passing the path the medical bots had taken with Midoriya, because he smells the sour scent of omega in pain and distress. It makes his stomach curl, even more than he'd usually react for someone he's only known a day or so, and he feels his mood plummeting as he turns a glare to the group. It startles him a little, how disturbing the smell is, but he stifles any reaction and focuses on the problem at hand.
"What happened," Aizawa demands frigidly, asking All Might but staring at Bakugo, who gives a faint twitch at the authoritative tone he takes.
"I foolishly believed your conversation with young Bakugo was enough to get through to him yesterday. I allowed him to fight Midoriya, but the moment he began to attack with intent to harm I ordered him to stop the fight. He refused and continued escalating things. I ran in myself to physically stop him, but not before he let off one of his gauntlet explosions."
"A weapon he shouldn't have been using at all!" Aizawa growls sharply, hair rising and eyes flashing red, and All Might startles slightly. It frustrates Aizawa, who pinches the bridge of his nose hard enough to bruise. He takes a slow breath and feels his hair fall around his face again. Why did Nezu hire someone with negative experience? "There was a note alongside his costume. He was allowed to wear it to get accustomed to the weight and the balance, but he wasn't permitted to use them in any form. There's no possible way Bakugo didn't read the note; he just blatantly ignored it, didn't he?" Aizawa asks sharply, leveling Bakugo with a harsh look. "I warned you, Bakugo." Aizawa growls and the boy's head snaps up, eyes widening with anger - and a hint of fear.
"It's just Deku! He's a useless moron and he's always looking down on me! He needs to learn his place-"
Aizawa throws out a hand, capture weapon lashing out to wrap around his mouth, silencing him. Aizawa keeps it loose enough to not constrict breathing, eyes flaring red as he glares. "His place, which you think is beneath you, I'm guessing. And to put him there, you hurt him so badly he needed to be rushed to someone with a healing Quirk for treatment. Even ignoring the despicable disregard you've shown your own base instincts, there's no excuse for ever hurting a classmate that badly during a practical." Aizawa spits the words.
He's relieved to see most of the other kids look as appalled and disgusted as Aizawa feels. Todoroki, pale faced, is glaring bloody murder at the explosive blonde.
"You didn't disregard safety regulations and basic sensibility, you threw them to the wind and went directly against them. You're not going to Gen Ed, kid, you're expelled from UA." Aizawa growls before he proceeds to wrap the boy up the rest of the way and drags him away, the boy snarling into the capture weapon. He ignores the stunned faces of the rest of his class, dragging the ill tempered brat straight to Nezu's office. He's relieved that the doors open for him as he approaches, negating the need to release Bakugo at all. He drags the kid straight in, drops him into a chair, and leaves him bound too tight to do more than wriggle and growl.
Nezu looks at Aizawa without his usual smile. "I've already called Bakugo-san's parents, and they'll be here within the hour. Midoriya has been successfully treated by Recovery Girl, and is currently resting," Nezu adds warmly for just Aizawa, who nods curtly. The dark haired man drops into one of the armchairs, sinking into the comfortable material and silently reaching out, without having to look, to accept a cup of tea.
He sips at it, not usually one for tea, but finding he needs it. He still feels unsettled by Midoriya's fear scent, and he hadn't even smelled it at the source. His students are probably deeply upset, but he can only hope All Might is competent enough to settle them without Aizawa's hand holding. Then he frowns at that thought and looks at Nezu. "All Might needs more training."
"Yes, I've scheduled him for a few more basics. Unfortunately, we couldn't cover everything before he started working," Nezu sighs heavily. Bakugo thrashes particularly violently, apparently already sick of being ignored. Aizawa holds Nezu's gaze steadily and tries to ignore the blonde even harder. "I'm confident, if nothing else, that he has learned a lesson from this."
"Mm. Hopefully the lesson is to take me more seriously next time," Aizawa complains, but his heart isn't really in it. Now that the anger of the moment is starting to dissipate, he's feeling tired again. "How was your latest meeting with the Commission?" Aizawa asks mildly, taking another drink of his tea, and Nezu's smile makes a return, a touch pleased.
They devolve into a long, tedious, utterly boring conversation, Aizawa doing his best to keep his tone as bland as possible the whole time, and by the time Bakugo's parents arrive, the boy is bored out of his mind. He's also finally stopped struggling, remaining reluctantly still when Aizawa releases him, now under the watchful eye of his mother. "What's going on here?" Mitsuki asks warily, her eyes narrowing. "What'd my brat do?" she demands as she sits on one side of Bakugo, the boy's father going to his other side.
"I'm afraid your son has been behaving quite violently towards another student during the short time he's been here. We already had to intervene today, and the other boy was sent to the infirmary in quite a state." Nezu says mildly, perched at his desk. "Several broken bones, scattered third degree burns, concussive damage to the eardrums..."
"What the fuck?" Mitsuki demands, startled, before glancing at Bakugo sharply. "Was- was there some sort of misunderstanding?"
"Not at all. It occurred during a school practical, under the observation of All Might himself. When All Might repeatedly ordered your son to disengage and not use a powerful attack, he ignored the man and nearly killed another student. When questioned about why, he said it was to put the other boy in his place." Nezu says, his voice going cold. His dark eyes fix on Bakugo, who scowls viciously and pales, just a bit, under Mitsuki's own glare.
"Who was it?" She asks suspiciously.
"Midoriya Izuku." Aizawa is the one to answer curtly, and Mitsuki seems to stall for a second.
Then, she turns and snarls at her son. "You stupid fucking brat-"
"Mitsuki, don't insult him in your anger," Masaru interjects instantly, but he looks heavily disappointed as well. Mitsuki snarls wordlessly and falls silent, almost literally fuming, so Masaru is the one to look at the principal and teacher. "We're familiar with little Izuku. His mother, Inko, is a close friend of ours. We weren't aware of this, but if it's this bad here... how long has this been going on, Katsuki?" Masaru asks, looking at his son with a deep frown. Katsuki's scowl deepens, arms crossed petulantly across his chest.
"The two of them went to the same middle school, did they not?" Nezu pipes up, and Aizawa's lips lift ever so slightly.
"Yes, I recall reading that Midoriya was ahead of Bakugo in nearly every subject," he comments idly, and the boy bristles, teeth gritting.
"Hm. Then I suspect this behavior has been ongoing for quite some time. Frankly, Bakugo-san, Bakugo-san," Nezu says respectfully, nodding to the individual parent, "I'm deeply concerned by the fact that not only has your son behaved in a way decidedly unlike a hero, he's behaved arguably like a villain." Nezu sighs heavily as Bakugo pales slightly, his parents frowning severely. "Aizawa-san, your son's homeroom teacher, has already voted to expel young Katsuki from our school in its entirety. Usually, I would at least attempt sending him to General Education first instead, but I have yet to see a single good reason to argue with my own employee over the matter."
"It is, after all, his classroom." Nezu peers at Bakugo, still smiling slightly. The boy is staring at the floor now, his eyes wider than before, his face somewhat pale. Aizawa's reassured to see it. The brat is finally realizing he's done something wrong - or at least realized he'll be punished for it.
"I... We've never heard anything about any... abusive behavior... before now," Mitsuki says slowly, a bit shakily, and she frowns grimly. "I'd like a chance to at least try to alter his behavior first, now that we're aware of the problem. I won't beg, but-"
"You don't need to, Bakugo-san," Nezu soothes immediately, his smile widening slightly. "If it's true that you've had no idea, then perhaps there are other factors at play, ones we have yet to consider. Bakugo... have any other teachers ever intevened on Midoriya's behalf, or even simply asked you not to bully him?" Nezu asks and Bakugo glares furiously at the floor for a long minute.
"Answer him, Katsuki," Masaru says lowly, his voice far from aggressive, but it's still stern enough that Bakugo lifts his head.
"No, okay? I don't- why is this even a big deal? Even the teachers threw him under the bus regularly! He's just- he's Quirkless!" Bakugo huffs, sounding incredibly, and genuinely, frustrated by it all. Aizawa stares at him incredulously, his sympathy only reaching certain levels.
It was certainly understandable that the teachers behaving that way, if what he says is true, would only encourage Bakugo. But to pretend to be oblivious to why it's a big deal? That was simply absurd. "Have you never existed on a piece of social media in your life?" Aizawa asks bluntly and Bakugo turns to narrow his eyes at him. "Do you not get bombarded by GoFundMe's about the Quirkless' homeless population, about the ones in desperate need of mental health care, about the ones whose families need help paying for their funerals after kids like you get ahold of them?" Aizawa arches a brow, his tone level and smooth but no less condemning for it.
Mitsuki flinches at his words and Masaru takes her hand in his, but Bakugo just stares angrily.
"Do you not see petitions for Quirkless rights, for more funding for shelters and orphanages for their population? There's not so few of them out there that you can even pretend to have gone ignorant to the public opinion, Bakugo. Thirty-five million people in Japan alone are Quirkless. How many other kids in your school were Quirkless? How many of them were treated like punching bags by your peers? I can't imagine it was very many, or your school would be facing an uproar - so how can you pretend you didn't know you were behaving in a way that isn't just morally wrong, but illegal? "
Bakugo flinches, ducking his head a bit at the argument.
"If your teachers really did egg you on, that's something to consider. That is a problem that isn't directly your fault. But don't pretend you're ignorant of basic morals when society as a whole exists to constantly remind us of them. There's no possible way you sincerely believe blowing someone up so badly it broke their bones and perforated their eardrums is acceptable behavior."
"What can we do to fix this?" Mitsuki interjects, her voice colder now, and Bakugo flinches just a tiny bit at the sound. Aizawa exhales a quiet breath through his nose, hackles easing at the knowledge that the kids' mother is as furious as Aizawa feels. He's not sure how he'd behave if she'd come in here demanding they excuse his behavior.
It really is concerning, though, listening to her argue out the terms of regulated therapy and generally being forced to stay away from Midoriya, and knowing she'd never even heard of this behavior before. Clearly, if she had, she would've stepped in sooner. Which means someone really was hiding this behavior from the two parents, and that supported Bakugo's statement about teachers. He's still thinking about it when the Bakugo family finally leaves, Mitsuki holding Bakugo's arm in a careful grip. The woman seems to be carefully restraining herself, like she has some experience with anger management herself.
Aizawa's not sure if that says good or bad things about the family, but he hopes it's good, for Bakugo's sake. As much as he dislikes the little brat, he doesn't wish for any child to fail when there's a chance they could succeed instead.
"Are you upset I didn't expel him entirely?" Nezu asks when Aizawa remains behind in his office, and the man promptly snorts.
"No, it's fine. I'm not as angry anymore." He says dismissively. "If he stays away from Midoriya and keeps to the therapy, I'm content. So long as he improves, at least. But if he somehow claws his way back to heroics, he's going to Vlad's class."
"Agreed, wholeheartedly." Nezu sighs, his smile dropping as he pours himself more tea. He doesn't bother offering Aizawa more - he'd refuse, anyways. He's due for more coffee. "His claims about his past teachers require investigation. I believe I'll try to find some camera footage, and call in our mutual detective friend if need be," Nezu muses and Aizawa nods his agreement with the plan. "Ah," Nezu blinks at his computer screen suddenly. "Midoriya's awoken. He seems, mm,"
Nezu trails off, looking sad now, and Aizawa's already turning to leave. "Do let him know we're on his side, yes?" Nezu calls after him.
"Yeah," Aizawa calls back before the doors slide shut behind him. He forgoes his earlier plan to stop by the teacher's lounge for coffee, instead going straight to the infirmary. He smells it before anything else - distressed omega with just a strain of pain to it. He winces at the scent, stepping further in to see that Recovery Girl is still in her office. He hears the sniffling a moment later, and approaches the lone occupied bed with a heavy heart.
The scent intensifies as he gets closer, as do the muffled sobs, and Aizawa finds Midoriya curled on his side, one arm over his face as he presses it into his pillow. His face is still reddened with lingering burns, accounting for the hint of pain.
Aizawa reaches down with a sigh and runs a hand through the kids' hair, heart aching for him. "Easy, Problem Child," he finds himself saying fondly as the boy stiffens, breath catching on a startled sob.
"S-sen-sei?" He stutters out between wet, sucked in breaths, and Aizawa rubs a hand on his back. He's... not very good at this physical comfort thing, and usually he doesn't even try, but he feels the need with Midoriya. Every one of the kid's sobs is painful to him.
"Are you in pain?" Aizawa asks, a bit unnecessarily, but it sets the boy off again. He cries hard into his pillow, and after a second, Aizawa grabs his hand. He tugs at the smaller form, and after a moment of hesitation, Izuku rises and moves with the pull. He sits up enough for Aizawa to sit down, and Izuku drapes his upper body over his sensei's, crying quietly against him.
"I d-don't u-underst-stand," Izuku weeps, less sobbing and more just crying now, and Aizawa rubs his back as Izuku's scent swells over him. He smells like sadness and rain, like grief, and Aizawa sighs quietly. He hopes his own scent is something more comforting, and it probably is, going by how Izuku's inhales are getting deeper, his nose relatively close to the scent glands in Aizawa's neck. "Why d-does he al-always h-hurt me?"
Aizawa holds the boy close, exhaling against his neck. "I'm sorry. I don't know why he did what he did, but it won't happen again," Aizawa promises firmly.
"It w-will," Izuku cries, and he winces at that, anger flaring in his chest. Anger at whatever shit teacher made Izuku think nothing would change.
"He's been placed in General Education, Midoriya," Aizawa informs the boy that's trembling against him. "He's not allowed to be in the same classroom as you, or near you in the halls. He won't hurt you again, I swear it," Aizawa says and for a moment, Izuku is stiff against him.
Then he pulls back a bit, looking up at Aizawa with watery eyes. "R...really?" he asks, softly, and Aizawa nods. He reaches up without thinking, running a hand through green hair, barely noticing the way he automatically inhales the soothing scent that wafts off him. The distress in his scent is fading, being rapidly replaced by comfort. "W-why?" he asks, wetly, and Aizawa exhales through his nose.
"Because UA doesn't tolerate discrimination, problem child. I don't know why your last school ever did, but it was illegal of them to. Bakugo told us that the teachers never stepped in - that they outright encouraged it at times. I can tell you that Principal Nezu and I were furious when we heard that." Aizawa explains, trying to make it clear which reaction here was the normal one and which one was the condemnable one. "That was illegal for them to do, Midoriya. If Bakugo ever hurt you and they saw it and didn't step in, they're going to go to prison for it."
Izuku startles at that, pulling back just enough to stare at Aizawa with wide eyes. "Prison?" he says slowly, and Aizawa nods firmly.
"Letting a child come to harm, whether at the hands of another child or not, is illegal. It's child endangerment, or even child abuse." Aizawa's eyes soften at the stunned confusion on the boy's face. "Midoriya..." Aizawa grimaces slightly, "did your teachers ignore you coming to harm?"
"I..." Izuku starts, then pauses, blinking slowly. He softly frowns. "...All of them," he says, quietly, and Aizawa has to close his eyes to hide how his Quirk wants to activate. "I would... tell them. They'd say to stop... to stop provoking the other kids."
"I'm sorry, kid," Aizawa murmurs, opening his eyes to look solemnly at the boy. Izuku looks back up at him with wary eyes. "What they did to you was wrong, and they're going to face the consequences for it. Nezu himself is leading an investigation into your previous school," Aizawa tells him quietly, and Izuku blinks at him slowly, looking uncertain. "They won't get away with it, kid." He promises lowly and Izuku, for a moment, doesn't respond at all.
Finally, he gives a slow nod against Aizawa, taking a moment to breathe in his scent. Aizawa does the same in return, exhaling in relief at the fading hints of distress. He runs a hand up and down Izuku's back soothingly, and tries not to think about the fact that they're behaving much closer than just teacher and student. He feels unusually parental, holding the kid like he's his own kit, and pushes the thought away with some agitation.
He's never met someone whose scent just called to him, but maybe it's so unfamiliar that he wouldn't recognize it when it did happen. It's not always a romantic or even sexual draw, but sometimes an intensely familial one. Aizawa's admittedly always been prone to taking a parental stance over his students, but it usually takes months of bonding for that to happen, not mere days.
Then again, most of his students aren't in such acute distress from the very moment he meets them. Most of his students don't exude anxiety so much that it's just part of their normal day-to-day scent.
He thinks about how easy it was for Bakugo to draw that scent from him, how intense it was when he responded to the training room, and his grip tightens around the boy pressed against him.
Izuku nuzzles slightly closer, relaxing now, slowly but surely. "He's really g-gone?" Izuku asks quietly and Aizawa exhales a slow, steady breath through his nose to stay calm.
"He's gone." Aizawa promises simply. "He won't be allowed near you again," he adds more elaborately, and Izuku exhales softly against his neck.
The kid doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't have to. The sheer relief and comfort in his scent is enough to communicate his feelings on it all.
Aizawa holds him as his last tears dry, glaring over his head and at the far wall.
He's gotten rid of the worst problem by expelling Bakugo from Heroics, but Bakugo is only half the reason the kid is so traumatized. Aizawa's going to make sure Aldera pays for the damage they helped inflict on him, too.