Chapter 2

The next day, Shota faces his class instead of taking the day off offered to him by Principal Nezu. In a show of silent support for their friend and partner, Nemuri and Hizashi stand to either side of 1-A's homeroom teacher. Also wanting to support his parent, Shinso leans against the wall in the back of the class.

The first few minutes after the bell rings are spent in uncomfortable silence before a hand goes up. Receiving a nod from his teacher, Todoroki asks, "Are you okay, Aizawa-sensei?"

"In a sense, yes. I am okay." Sighing, Shota turns to the board and writes four letters, PTSD. Turning back to the class, he says, "This is our topic of discussion for today, but first," his eyes lock onto Mineta. The small teen seems to shrink in his seat. "I couldn't help but overhear your discussion with Kaminari yesterday. Due to his obvious discomfort with the subject and numerous attempts to end the conversation, he isn't in trouble. You, however, will be in detention with Midnight after class every day until you complete a twenty-page report on the immediate and long-term physical and psychological effects of sexual assault. The faster you complete the report, the faster your punishment will be over. You will still be expected to attend all of your classes and complete all of your assignments on time. Present Mic will be grading your report. If he deems it a failure in any way, shape, or form, you will start over. He's been given instruction to not go easy on you, though I highly doubt he would anyways."

"He's pretty pissed at you, grape boy," Shinso hisses.

Turning his attention to the rest of his class, he continues, "As you all witnessed, yesterday I had a severe panic attack. Who can tell me what causes a panic attack?" A few hands go up. "Bakugo."

"Anything that unnecessarily triggers your fight or flight response."

"Define 'unnecessarily'."

"You feel like you're in danger even when you're safe."

"That's an extremely simplified way of explaining it, but it'll work for today's discussion," he explains as he moves to lean on the front of his desk. He hides the way his hands are shaking by crossing his arms over his chest. "I feel I owe you all an explanation. My panic attack yesterday was triggered by Mineta discussing a game called 'Firetruck'." All of his students turn to their classmate and glare at him. "Judging by your reaction, I'd say you've all at least heard of it."

"Yes, Sensei," they all chime.

"Then it will come as no surprise that this game is known as a rape game for a reason." A pink hand goes up. "Ashido."

The energetic teen looks confused as she asks the question that plagued the minds of many of her classmates. "Why did it trigger you so badly, Sensei?"

The shaking in his hands spreads to the rest of his body as his eyes immediately divert from his student to his boots. Taking a deep breath, he explains, "When Mic and I were about you guys' age, we were kidnapped by some thugs on our way to school. Since he was their target, they only knocked him out. I wasn't so lucky. They," he swallows the lump that had formed in his throat, "used me with the intention of killing me afterwards. When I tried to fight back, one of them used a brainwashing quirk on me. I don't remember what they did exactly. I just remember All Might wrapping his cape around me as I woke up." When he finally looks back up, he sees that several eyes are on the purple haired boy in the back of the room.

"Does that mean Shinso's a rape baby?" Mineta blurts.

White hot rage flashes in Shota's mind. "Get out," he growls.

Stupidly, Mineta continues, "But boys don't get pregnant. That's a gross girl thing."

By that point, Shota was standing in front of the offending teen's desk. "Anyone with a uterus can get pregnant, Mineta. While I did not choose when that nine-month dysphoric hell started, I would never trade that experience for the world because it gave me my son, whom you seem to enjoy disrespecting."

"Well, I'd respect him more if he didn't have such a villainous quirk!"

"A quirk is a tool, like a hammer. In the hands of a good person, a hammer can build a house. In the hands of a bad person, it can crush a skull. Shinso's biological father used his quirk to rape and kill teenage girls. Shinso has never used his quirk to hurt someone. The only time I've seen him use brainwashing in a fight outside of training was at the Sports Festival, when you all were expected to demonstrate your control over your quirk in combat. Now I suggest you do as you're told and leave. Go to Principal Nezu's office. Explain to him exactly what you said and did to get yourself in trouble and accept your punishment graciously, because you are so close to being expelled. And keep in mind, there is a camera in the clock over the black board."

The tiny teen goes pale as he glances to the unassuming clock before cautiously exiting the classroom. Silence washes over the class as the door closes behind him. Taking a deep breath, Shota turns back to the front of the class. Noticing an uncharacteristic scowl poorly hiding unshed tears, he stops at Midoriya's desk. Catching the boy's eye, he raises a brow in a silent question.

"I need to speak with All Might," his green haired student states in a quiet voice, his tone a mix of sorrow and anger. "May I be excused, Sensei?"

He studies his student for a moment before nodding. "Bakugo, go with him. No running in the hall." He continues to the front of the class as his two problem children collect their things and leave. Taking a deep breath, he turns to once again face what's left of his class. "Today's subject is a heavy topic. If anyone needs to step out for a moment, please do so quietly. This is a lesson that some of you don't need to be taught. Some of you already deal with the effects of PTSD every day. You don't need to share your story or even make your struggle known to the rest of the class. Just remember that I have an open-door policy, as do Present Mic and Hound Dog. If you ever need to talk, we're here and we won't judge you. Everybody understand?"

"Yes, Sensei," the remainder of the class answers.

He nods. "Any questions before we get back to the lesson?"

"No, Sensei."

"Okay, then." Though his anxiety is still present in the back of his mind, the familiarity of teaching helps keep his mind from wandering into the distant past. With his husband and closest friend there to help answer the more difficult questions, he's able to keep his nerves in check. Is he completely over what happened yesterday? No, not by a long shot. Will he get over it for his students' sake? Absolutely. It took him years to learn how to handle his PTSD. With the state the world is currently in, his students don't have that kind of time. They need to know how to handle the trauma they've already been through as well as the absolute hell that seems to stalk them like a starving predator.