Shouta Aizawa

Where seven seconds each slithered around Aizawa's neck, he felt as though at least seven minutes had scraped by. Then, in the white silence pulsating through his blood, he felt something warm on his shoulder.

A man with a blue mask on his chin removed his hand from Aizawa's shoulder, locking their gazes. "I'm afraid he didn't make it," the man uttered. "Frankly, the odds were awfully low to begin with, but… You have my condolences. Rest assured, we exhausted every applicable Quirk to try and bring him back. We managed to get a pulse twice, but unfortunately, neither was able to be maintained." His eyes scanned Todoroki's neutral expression. "I've seen them at work before. They were good kids. I never imagined things would end like this. As you know, support is always available. People may choose to believe this was your fault. I've seen it a lot—people like to have the easy way out." His hazel eyes were painted by the shadow of his eyelids.

And yet, I've failed at my single most important duty three times now, Aizawa chastised himself, unable to feel the weight of the words swirling around his head as he stepped back outside. Three of my students have committed suicide. Kei, Bakugou, and Todoroki… All top students of mine. He glanced at the double doors to the apartment complex, staring at the humanoid lump cocooned on the floor beside a gurney. Is it really fine to feel so little over something like this? I was anxious before. Something like this…simply doesn't feel real. His eyes briefly flicked to the blue sky. As if nothing ever happened.

All Aizawa could remember after that was begrudgingly dragging himself over to the desk in his apartment. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know what to feel. Yet, as he pulled up the images of the final messages Todoroki and Bakugou left behind, he realized that he could not read the words on the screen. In fact, Aizawa could not make out anything but blurred, squiggly lines of black on an illuminated, white surface.

Am I… Aizawa blinked, expelling the tears coating his pupils. Why did this happen? Why did they die? Why couldn't I have saved them? Why couldn't I have prevented this? He peeled his nails through the wood of his desk. I failed them and allowed this horrific sequence of events to occur. Even when I made this my priority, I still… His brow furrowed when he heard the slight squeak of his door opening.

"Erase…" Yamada's voice dropped like glass smashing on the ground as he closed his eyes and slowly approached Aizawa. "You okay?"

"Sheesh, you guys argue like an old married couple," sighed Kaminari.

"Hah?" Bakugou tilted his head. "Shut it. It's got nothin' to do with you."

"Y'know, it's really no secret you two are madly gay for each other."

"HAH?!" Bakugou sprang out of his seat and pointed at Todoroki. "ME? FOR HIM?" He stomped up to Kaminari, grabbing the latter by the collar. "Who the hell do you take me f—"

"So you do hate me," murmured Todoroki, who closed his eyes.

"No!" huffed Bakugou. "Shou…" He face-palmed while Kaminari covered his mouth with his hand, stifling the cackles spilling from his lips. "You're fucking dead tonight, hear me?" he snarled at Todoroki, who donned a faint smile.

"Ohh, so you guys are already that far along, huh?" Kaminari teased.

"NO!"

Their relationship always brought something strange to the classroom, Aizawa reminisced, inhaling deeply. And now I know why it was torn apart. But why did this have to end this way? He nodded at Yamada, blinking away another trail of tears as he envisioned his classroom devoid of the banter Bakugou and Todoroki typically engaged in. And outside of their relationship, their peers…

Something warm gently patted Aizawa's shoulder. "Overwhelming, isn't it?" Yamada whispered.

Aizawa nodded. "Very. But I'd rather shed a few tears and move on than feel nothing." He dried his eyes with his sleeves. "Those troublesome kids are still giving me grief, even when they're gone." A vague smile poked at his lips as he locked eyes with Yamada.

"They're in a better place now," Yamada assured Aizawa, crouching down to wrap his arm around Aizawa's neck. "You did your best, but we couldn't have known they'd suddenly decide to go out today. This completely came out of nowhere."

Shaking his head, Aizawa countered, "Things like this never come out of 'nowhere.' There are always signs. You're correct that I couldn't have known today would be the day they died, but despite the fact that I saw the signs…" His voice broke into droplets like a thin stream of water from a faucet slowing into individual spheres of water.

"Don't beat yourself up," Yamada replied. "Maybe there were signs, and maybe you did notice the signs, but not even professionals can successfully intervene before every suicide. I know it's even harder on you than me, but I don't want to see you like how you got after Kei." He nodded, bringing his other arm around Aizawa. "But it's only natural if you're unconsciously blaming yourself."

How long has it been since someone's offered to hug me? pondered Aizawa, who let out a sigh and silently rested his head on Yamada's shoulder. I'm not an emotional person. But as much as I hate the idea of unnecessary emotions, baggage, and thoughts… He could feel Yamada's hands deftly massaging his shoulders. The warmth of another person sure is warm.

Aizawa wasn't sure how long he'd spent slowly rocking back and forth in Yamada's arms, but his eyes gradually opened to the sound of a soft voice. "You've grown a lot over the years, you know." There was a pause of silence. "But you still keep on suppressing how you feel. You always say there's no reason to have unnecessary emotions, and that you can't stand when people get caught up in their emotions, but I know you feel them too."

After a few seconds, Aizawa sighed, "Maybe so. Your point being?"

Yamada let out a soft chuckle, stepping back from Aizawa. "Always right to the point. Embrace your humanness, Shouta." A jovial grin graced his face.

Something warm tugged at Aizawa's lips. "Thanks, Yamada."

When Aizawa slid into bed that night, he found himself staring vacantly at the darkness above him. He reminisced over the students he'd lost to suicide, pondered the reactions of Todoroki and Bakugou's parents, and recollected the red flags he'd seen in Bakugou and Todoroki. He'd watched the ghosts of Todoroki and Bakugou swim across his eyes like parasites, and he'd gulped down a few tablets of melatonin, but before he knew it, his room was gradually beginning to lighten.

It feels as though I'm destined to play a role in the suicides of my suicidal students, Aizawa cogitated. I've saved far more lives than I've played a role in taking. But the fact that this has happened three times… Don't overthink it or let it get to you. Wallowing in it will cloud your mind when your other students need help. Focus on the living. Protect them. But never forget those whose lives were lost, and the suffering they endured. Their funerals will be soon, and right now, the people closest to them are the most vulnerable.

So, after two weeks had passed, the day arrived for the funerals of both Katsuki Bakugou and Shouto Todoroki. Every U.A. staff member attended, as well as the classmates of Bakugou and Todoroki. Aizawa could remember Midoriya sniffling and constantly bringing his arms and hands to his eyes, and how Uraraka eventually whispered that Midoriya didn't need to hold back his tears before gently embracing him. He could remember Kaminari and Kirishima silently weeping over each other's shoulders, Iida's rigid yet trembling shoulders and expression, Asui sobbing beside Sero's lowered head and obscured visage, Satou covering his mouth next to Ojirou and his tail-covered eyes, Shouji offering tissues to those around him, Mineta chewing at his nails, Jirou and Yaoyorozu holding hands with red eyes, Tokoyami and Kouda embracing a melancholic Dark Shadow, and Hagakure, Ashido, and Aoyama sniffling and shakily pinching the tissues provided by Shouji.

Mitsuki Bakugou was the first family member to walk up on stage and speak. "Katsuki…" She smiled, but as her eyes drifted around the room, her eyes slowly became glassy and tinged with red; she'd paused for quite a while as she took a deep breath in. "He was a handful. He was a handful, that one." Her smile trembled. "I knew so early on that he was going to be a troublemaker. I mean, what four-year-old steals his mother's collection of scented candles so he can scribble all the things he doesn't like on paper and then burn the papers and dance on the ashes?" A faint laugh escaped under her breath. "My kid." Her lips twitched into a pained yet blissful smile as she lowered her head. "My kid…" Her voice had finally cracked, but over her stifled gasps and sniffles, she continued, "He was still a good kid. No matter how much trouble that kid made, he was a good kid. A smart one too. He was so hard-working. For the longest time, every day, I'd catch him training outside to refine his Quirk…as he shouted at my flowers to die, stomping on them and pretending they were villains.

"When he wanted something, he did whatever it took to get it. No matter how impossible the task seemed, he always found a way to do it. Even…if that task was putting on every single article of clothing he had. He looked like a doll with clown shoes." Mitsuki chuckled quietly, rubbing her eyes with a sigh. "I just wish I'd been a better mother. Even now, I don't know what he was going through, and I don't know what drove him to this point. It was my job to know, as his mother. I hardly checked in with him. He never visited home. I wish I'd done something as simple as check in every now and again… I'll never know why he… Why Katsuki decided to kill himself. Please don't make the same mistakes as me. Check in with your kids, even if they seem to hate you. Pay attention to them, and look for abnormal behaviors. They won't tell you everything, even if they promise that they will. But I don't… I don't want more families to go through this pain. Katsuki was our only son, and now…" Her eyes overflowed with tears as she grimaced. "He's never coming back… My son—my baby—is never coming back…"

Setting down the microphone in her trembling hand, Mitsuki slowly walked off the stage, sniffling and gasping. Masaru promptly rushed to Mitsuki's side, hugging his arm around her in the sea of dolor in the room. No one dared clap, and only the sound of grief and footsteps could be heard echoing from ceiling to floor.

After another minute of heavy, gur-twisting silence, Mitsuki's voice soaked through the silence. "You can go," she assured Endeavor with a hoarse voice. "I'm sorry I made this so awkward." Her voice diluted with the silence that once again ensued as Endeavor slowly approached the stage.

Dressed in a black suit, Enji Todoroki gazed around the sullen faces of those around him before hesitantly picking up the microphone. "I sincerely hope that Bakugou is now at peace, and before I say my piece for my son Shouto, it is only appropriate that we take a moment to reminisce, reflect, and put forth our respects for Bakugou." He nodded, and thus, the room was swallowed up by a wave of unspoken, heart-gouging emotions.

All things considered, thought Aizawa, who exhaled slowly, I suppose Endeavor truly has changed. He recalled how Bakugou had also changed before Aizawa's eyes. I'd be lying to myself if I said it didn't still feel like it was my fault. You didn't deserve this, Bakugou. Neither did Todoroki. Even if you were both struggling with burdens you didn't deserve to be burdened with, either, neither of you deserved to die in that pain.

'Monochrome Crown.'

'They'll surely notice all these lies.' I did, and yet… 'I give in, and to the concrete I drop.'

'I just want to die.'

Despite that, you were more concerned about Todoroki. You constantly redirected the focus of our conversations to him.

'Can you call this shit living?'

With how much you both endured until the very end, I don't think I'd consider that 'living.' I completely understand why you were both driven to this point, but I don't understand where I went wrong. What could I have done to prevent this?

Then, once another few minutes dripped by like raindrops, Endeavor's deep, bramble-like voice singed the air. "Contrary to what I'm certain most of you have seen from Shouto, he was a bright, energetic kid. Why, then, is he so unexpressive? Frankly, it's my fault. I will refrain from speaking too much on this since the main focus here is on Bakugou and Shouto. But even though I was beyond harsh on Shouto, and I did some inexcusable things to both him and my entire family, Shouto has always been a kind person. Regardless of how much he's been hurt by someone, he's found it in himself every time to forgive. He hardly smiled, but he would smile when he knew he was able to make someone else smile.

"He expressed so few emotions, but he still managed to form such strong bonds with others that brought out his true feelings. Despite how he'd been hurt, all Shouto wanted was to help those around him. I failed to see what was troubling him, and although he's saved countless people, I failed to save him, my own son." Endeavor's expression was crushed by the grip of Agony. "I will atone for my wrongs, even if it is too late. I love you, Shouto, and I wish I could have told you that before you left. I'm sorry. I cannot change the past, and I can't bring you back, but I will spend the time I have left righting my wrongs. I'm sorry, Shouto. I only pray you are at peace now…" He bowed his head, closing his eyes. "Thank you for everything, Shouto."

Even now, I can't confirm anything about Higoro aside from what made the news. I can speculate, but in the end, I have no definitive proof. To go so far to hide what you've truly been through… You didn't deserve to have all these details about what happened to you lost to time.

When the funeral concluded, Aizawa first requested to speak with Mitsuki. He'd informed her of Bakugou's academic achievements, his growth over the years, and his relationship with Todoroki. Much to Aizawa's stupefaction, Mitsuki had been aware of Bakugou's romantic relationship with Todoroki.

"Katsuki tried to hide it for as long as possible," Mitsuki chuckled, keeping her eyes on the floor. "It was obvious there was a boy he liked. Todoroki was such a sweet kid. He came over for dinner a few times, and Katsuki would always get extra aggressive and defensive whenever Todoroki was around. He'd still just deny over and over again that he liked Todoroki." Her somber smile faded. "Anyway, did you notice anything concerning about Bakugou's behavior? I know he signed up for therapy, but he told me it was just as important to improve his mental well-being as it was to improve physically. I figured that was just him being him—always striving for the very top, and nothing less. No corner-cutting, either."

Although Aizawa felt like a python had coiled itself around his chest, he sighed, "Putting it candidly, all of Bakugou's behavior became a great concern." He noted how Mitsuki's eyes became blank sheets. "I asked him about it, pointed out his changes in behavior, and offered advice, but he wasn't incredibly receptive to any of it. I eventually got him squared away with a therapist not too long ago, but I see now that I should've pushed for therapy earlier on. If you're livid knowing that I could have prevented this, you have every right to be. I can't blame anyone else but myself for this."

Mitsuki drew her eyelids shut, inhaling deeply. "I would be lying if I said a part of me doesn't want to blame you. But more than that, I'm grateful you noticed, and you tried to help. Thank you, Aizawa." She nodded, wiping her red eyes with her thumbs. "I'm sorry, but I think… I think I just need to be alone for a while. Katsuki…" Her expression contorted into twitching ravines of sorrow. "Every time I think I've gotten a grip on myself again, I just…" Two colorless shards of emotion slipped from her chin and onto the floor. "I need to go."

"Mitsuki." Aizawa cautiously placed his hand on Mitsuki's shoulder. "Please keep Masaru with you."

A tattered smile wove onto Mitsuki's lips. "Thank you. I won't be joining Katsuki, rest assured. I couldn't bear to do that to Masaru. Even though I'd do anything to say just one final thing to him, I still have Masaru." She nodded before taking her leave.

Good, Aizawa thought as a warm, silky wave cradled the shakiness in his bones. I might not have been able to save Todoroki or Bakugou, but I can still save those they left behind.

So, Aizawa approached Endeavor, who stood beside the framed pictures of Bakugou and Todoroki; neither of the two wore smiles in their monochrome pictures. "Are you masking your grief to maintain your image?" Aizawa inquired, flicking his eyes from the pictures to Endeavor.

Pushing out a long breath, Endeavor replied, "I deserve no right to cry when I'm the one who caused this. I stole his childhood, broke our family, and hardly did anything to try and mend the damage. I loved him, and yet, I did this all to him and had the audacity to try and run from the blame and guilt, and I swept it all under the rug. I'm a detestable man unbefitting of the title of 'Hero.'" He covered his left eye with his hand.

Aizawa could see how, although Endeavor's expression remained cold, Endeavor's eyes sank. "You deserve no right to shed tears for your son? If you were him, would you not be saddened and hurt if you knew no one cried for you when you died?"

I'm certain Todoroki would have wished the opposite—for no tears to be shed—but I highly doubt Endeavor is aware of that.

Endeavor's brows furrowed ever so slightly. "There were plenty who cried for him. I would be insulted to see the man who drove me to suicide suddenly weep before me. It would be nothing more than proof that I realized too late what needed to be done."

"I see. Todoroki was a good student, and I wish I could have done more to help him. He refused to talk about much. Though, it seems he was far more open about his experiences with Bakugou. Unfortunately…"

Endeavor nodded. "You were still more of a father to my son than his own father. I can't thank you enough for that. I never was a father. I don't see how I could redeem myself after this." His dim, turquoise eyes fell to the ground. "I've killed two of my own children, and my wife was hospitalized for years because of me. All the pain I've brought upon my family… Enough. It ends now."

Aizawa felt something hot and serrated scrape against his core. "How do you plan on bringing about that change?" he queried, locking his eyes on Endeavor, who did not reply. "Endeavor."

"He would have wanted this too," Endeavor finally remarked in a frigid whisper. "I'm positive he hated me until the end. This is in everyone's best interest. Trust me, Eraserhead." His eyes were like rings of blue fire.

Aizawa clasped onto Endeavor's sleeve. "You refuse to cry for your son, but would you willingly reject the consequences of your actions by taking the easy way out of it? If he truly hates you, I daresay it would be more insulting to die before you took responsibility for even a fraction of your faults. Before you suffered a fraction of the pain he did. Before you apologized to anyone else for the damage that's been done." His black eyes were like bullets.

"You know nothing of my family situation," spat Endeavor.

"I don't. Similarly, you know nothing of your own son's situation. You've admitted to neglecting your family as well. You're certain you aren't putting your words in their mouths?"

"I've heard enough."

"Your family is in favor of sacrificing such a critical player in our world's war against villains for this?"

Endeavor squinted his eyes. "Enough."

"If I asked them here and now—"

Endeavor slammed his hands into fists as his countenance finally rippled with a torrent of apoplectic emotions, and yet, he swiftly dropped his hands flat at his sides. "So you're here to ensure I've suffered enough first?" His words were rivulets of water rolling down a glass.

Aizawa shook his head. "Enji, you don't deserve this. Look at your other family members." He and Endeavor both turned to face Natsuo, Fuyumi, and Rei, who were huddled together in the corner of the room. "They lost Todoroki as well. If you care about them, prove it. Be there for them. I'm certain they would appreciate that far more than not only suffering another loss, but having their closure severed." He noticed how Endeavor cast his gaze asunder. "It's awkward and perhaps even terrifying now, but with time, it doesn't have to be that way. You have to be the one to push for that change. Now go. They need you."

Endeavor took a step forward before hesitating. "It's their moment," he dejectedly muttered. "I have no place there."

"You won't know unless you hear it from them yourself. Prove to them you can be the father and husband you've wanted to be."

"Fine. Thank you, Eraserhead." Endeavor took a deep breath in, stiffening his shoulders and lifting his head.

"First," commented Aizawa, who placed his hand on Endeavor's broad shoulder, "loosen up. You're the only one here with such a callous face and menacing aura."

Raising a brow, Endeavor relaxed his shoulders. "I beg to differ when you're standing in front of me."

A soft smile materialized on Aizawa's pale face. "There you go." He nudged Endeavor towards the Todoroki family.

Thus, Endeavor began walking towards his family with his chin low to the ground and sagging shoulders. Aizawa observed from afar how, upon taking in the silent grief of his loved ones, Endeavor immediately began to weep as well. He could hear Endeavor sputtering out apologies as he scooped his family into one large embrace. He could see the redness staining the eyes and cheeks of every Todoroki, and the way their bodies and parted jaws quaked.

If only it had been this simple to achieve a happy ending for Bakugou and Todoroki, cogitated Aizawa. Even if some encouragement and kindness can't take away someone's suicidal thoughts just like that, it's astounding how a single act of kindness can prevent so much more pain. I want to make sure both Endeavor and Mitsuki at least consider getting help. I can only imagine the pain of finding out about all the horrific things my son endured and refused to tell me about. To think that what we know about Bakugou and Todoroki most certainly isn't even half of it all… He expelled a sigh.

"I see you got him to face his family," remarked Yamada, whose black glasses no longer obscured his eyes, and whose long yellow hair had been combed down into a ponytail. "Are these 'unnecessary feelings' still 'annoying' to you?" His grin resembled how his hair typically looked.

Aizawa gazed into the unsmiling portraits of Todoroki and Bakugou beside him. "Yes, but they're less of an annoyance to me now." He sieved the white flowers encircling the pictures. "I only wish I could have saved them. I can't say whether or not they would have found something worth living for, or that they would have gotten better, but the possibility of any hope they had is gone. Which is why…" He lifted his head to face Yamada. "I'm retiring from U.A. next year."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," stammered Yamada, who reeled back. "You know this wasn't your fault, right? Can't imagine how much pain being at U.A. is, but—"

"Your unnecessary emotions didn't let me finish," Aizawa clarified. "I want to work with youth who feel their only escape is suicide. I want to give them a fighting chance. After failing to save three of my students, I want to gather more experience and knowledge for this kind of thing to save lives that would otherwise be lost. To do that, I need more time than what my hours at U.A. allow. So, as much as I'd like to see my students graduate, I'd like to become someone who can act as a Pro Hero, teacher, and therapist. Perhaps not a therapist, specifically, but the idea is there.

"I don't plan on retiring from U.A. forever. I plan on returning, and that way, if and when I have another student like Kei, Bakugou, and Todoroki, I will know how to help. I'll see more signs earlier on, and hopefully…I can prevent them from falling apart, build them up stronger than before, and save them from suffering the same cruel fates. I can't change the past, but I can work for a better future that changes the meaning of the past. I'm not going to sit around and preach my hopes for the future without also taking action. Wishing for a better future isn't going to stop these kids from ending their lives…but working for it can."

Although Yamada's expression was wide-eyed and with raised brows, his lips promptly relaxed into a smile. "I fully support your decision, and in whatever ways you need, I'm happy to help out." He nodded.

"Thank you, Yamada. I've also decided that, before I begin that journey, I would do well to see a therapist first. Even though I don't feel like I need it, and I'm doing fine emotionally, I still think it would be in my best interest—as well as the interest of those I'll work with—to ensure I'm mentally in a place to begin this journey, and to better understand being in their shoes."

"I like the sound of it," Yamada assured Aizawa with a thumbs-up. "Gotta be at your best to do your best. But before that plan that's before your ultimate plan, why don't we take care of ourselves here and now and get some of your favorite noodles?" His soft smirk gleamed in yellow, despite the white flowers, dim room, black clothing, and gray clouds.

"If you pay," Aizawa added.

"Hey now, that's just mean."

"I'm kidding."

"Eraserhead…"

With one final glance at the portraits of Todoroki and Bakugou, the sobbing Todoroki family, and the crestfallen students Aizawa had taught for nearly two years, Aizawa opened the door to his gray, yet-unwinding future.

Wherever you two troublesome kids are…are you truly happier now?