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winxanity-ii · 2 days

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⌜Know No Evil | Chapter 15 Chapter 15 | gauging reactions⌟

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A satisfied smirk played on your lips as you both reached the large, white and gray bus. Iida, ever the gentleman, gestured towards the open door. "After you, Akuma-san," he said politely, stepping aside to allow you on board.

"Thank you, Iida-kun," you replied with a gracious nod, stepping onto the bus. The chatter inside immediately died down as everyone turned to stare at you. The confusion was evident. They were expecting Iida to return, not you.

"Hey, Four Eyes! The hell took you so long? Had to take a crap or somethin—" Bakugo's booming voice cut through the silence, but the sentence died abruptly on his lips as his crimson eyes landed on you. The amusement instantly drained from his face, replaced by a scowl that didn't reach his eyes. "Y/N? The hell you doin' here?"

You ignored his question, choosing instead to unleash your secret weapon—a sweet, closed-eye smile. It was a weapon you'd discovered held surprising power, especially over the other pests in your life—especially your little puppy, Bakugo.

And sure enough, a faint blush crept across Bakugo's cheeks, momentarily breaking his tough-guy facade, shutting him down. He quickly scoffed and turned away toward the window in a futile attempt to hide his flustered reaction.

Aizawa, who had been dozing in the front seat, finally stirred at the commotion. He slowly dragged himself to his feet, his hair a mess as ever. "Took you long enough, Iida," he mumbled in a monotone voice. Noticing the surprised looks on everyone's faces, he sighed dramatically.

"Alright, alright," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance. "Seems the message wasn't clear. Akuma-san here will be joining you on your little field trip to U.S.J. Consider it a... motivator. A chance for Class 1-A to see that they're not the only ones vying for hero licenses." His yellow eyes flickered across the students' faces, a cryptic message lingering in their depths.

There was more to this than a simple observation session; that much was clear. But what exactly? Aizawa left the unspoken question hanging in the air, a tiny smirk playing on his lips.

With another tired sigh, he gestured towards the back of the bus. "Find a seat, Akuma-san. Just try not to cause too much trouble." His voice held a hint of contemptment, a silent acknowledgment of your unpredictable nature. There was a flicker of suspicion in his eyes, a single beat where his gaze narrowed slightly before smoothing back to normal.

It was subtle, but it didn't escape you.

You mentally noted to be cautious around the tired-looking teacher. He might just be the first to catch on to your act. Offering a polite bow, you replied with a sugary-sweet voice, "Of course, Aizawa-sensei. I'll be on my best behavior." Turning away, you began walking down the aisle, a playful smile still plastered on your face.

Internally, however, your smile faltered.

Aizawa's suspicion was a wrinkle in your otherwise perfect plan. You'd need to tread carefully, to maintain your facade of the friendly, eager student while subtly probing for information. This unexpected hurdle only made the challenge more exciting.

A silent thrill coursed through you. You thrived on challenges, and Aizawa's suspicion just added another layer of intrigue to the upcoming trip to U.S.J.

The bus rumbled to life, carrying you and Class 1-A towards their unknown destination. Surprisingly, the atmosphere was subdued. Gone were the throngs of curious classmates eager to bombard you with questions. Instead, a tense silence hung in the air. You suspected Bakugo had something to do with it.

The moment Aizawa dismissed you to find a seat, Bakugo had taken charge, kicking his classmate Jiro out of the seat next to him with a booming "Move it, Earphones!" before gesturing curtly for you to sit. You complied readily, taking note of the simmering tension emanating from the blonde.

The subdued chatter from the rest of the class proved to be a goldmine of information. You listened intently as they discussed their Quirks, their hopes, and their anxieties. It was like eavesdropping on a live episode of a hero reality show, and you were enthralled. Right now, the group was discussing each other's Quirks.

"...Bakugo's always angry, so he'll never be that popular."

Bakugo tensed visibly, his grip tightening on the armrest, a low growl rumbling from his chest. Before he could even take time to a moment to seethe and take up for himself, another voice cut through the tension. It was the boy you remembered rescuing at the physical entrance exam—Kaminari. "Y'know, we basically just met you and haven't known each other that long. So it's amazing that everyone already knows his personality is crap steeped in sewage."

Bakugo's entire body seemed to vibrate with rage. The smell of caramel, a telltale sign of his Quirk activating, grew stronger. Veins bulged on his neck, and his crimson eyes burned with fury. "What's with that vocabulary, bastard?! I'll kill you!"

Tuning out the ensuing argument, you found your gaze drifting across the bus. Your eyes met the familiar eyes with black sclerae and yellow irises—the eyes of the girl you'd seen at the U.A. entrance exam.

Your eyes met familiar ones—black sclerae framing bright yellow irises. It was the pink girl from the U.A. entrance exam. A smirk played on your lips as you recalled how easily you'd flustered her. A simple brush of your finger against her cheek had sent her brain into a delightful overload, causing her to screech and flee.

Catching your gaze, her already pink cheeks flushed an even darker, vibrant pink. She bounced nervously in her seat, clearly battling an internal struggle of wanting to talk to you. You accentuated the invitation with a playful smile, tilting your head slightly.

That was all it took.

In a flash of pink lightning, she was hurtling towards you. She squeezed between you and Bakugo, effectively shoving the blonde further into the window and creating a comfortable space for her. Bakugo let out an enraged bark, "Mina!" but she completely ignored him.

Mina practically vibrated with excitement as she stared up at you. "Hi!" she chirped, her grin so bright it could rival the sun. "I'm Ashido Mina, but you can call me Mina!"

Bubbling over with enthusiasm, she launched into a tirade about Bakugo. "He's so mean!" she declared, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Always keeping you all to himself, acting all mysterious. What gives, right?"

For the next ten minutes, Mina became a human hurricane of questions and chatter. Every topic seemed to revolve around you, a whirlwind of curiosity about your life, your connection to Bakugo, and everything in between.

Just as she leaned, her voice filled with curiosity, "So, what's your Quirk?" a hush fell over the bus. Even those who had seemingly been engrossed in their own conversations suddenly perked up, their ears straining to catch your response.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Midoriya, quickly fumbling to pull out his phone. You knew exactly what he was doing—taking notes on your Quirk, weaknesses, anything you might reveal.

After all, throughout your middle school years, you'd kept your Quirk a closely guarded secret. The only one privy to its true nature was Bakugo. But Midoriya, with his analytical mind, probably believed it must be powerful enough to earn Bakugo's begrudging respect.

Bakugo, barked at Mina. "Mind your damn business, Pinky!" His voice crackling with irritation that anyone would dare try to get closer to you.

"It's alright, Bakugo," you said in a sugary-sweet tone. "A little curiosity never hurt anyone, right?" A pointed look in his direction effectively silenced any further protests.

Turning back to Mina, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes, you leaned in conspiratorially. Your voice dropped to a whisper, sending shivers down the girl's spine. "Well,I can't exactly tell you everything. After all, our classes are a bit... competitive, wouldn't you say?" you purred, leaving the implication hanging heavy in the air. "But what I will say is that it's very mind-blowing."

Just as you finished your cryptic sentence, the bus lurched to a halt. Aizawa's tired voice echoed through the bus. "Alright, everyone out. Time for your little observation session at U.S.J." The bus doors hissed open, revealing a sprawling complex bathed in the warm afternoon sun.

The spell was broken. The students, momentarily captivated by your words, scrambled out of their seats, their curiosity momentarily forgotten in the face of the unknown that awaited them.

"Hello, everyone! I've been waiting for you!" A voice suddenly boomed as you all were exiting the bus.

Looking over, you spot a towering figure clad in a spacesuit-inspired hero costume, bouncing over with an enthusiasm that rivaled a sugar high.

A familiar voice piped up from beside you. "It's the Space Hero, Thirteen! The chivalrous pro who's rescued a ton of people from disasters across the world!" Izuku practically vibrated with excitement.

"Woo-hoo! Thirteen is so awesome! She's one of my favorite heroes!" Uraraka, a girl with a brown bob and pink round circles on her cheeks chime in, pumping her fist in the air.

Thirteen, used to the fanatic excitement, gestured grandly towards the building behind them. "I can't wait to show you what's inside!"

The students erupted in a chorus of awes and excited chatter. You, however, remained detached, observing the scene with a practiced cool. This "training facility" felt more like a glorified amusement park.

Inside, the building was a kaleidoscope of zones—a shipwreck, a landslide, a fire simulation—all meticulously crafted to resemble real-world disaster scenarios. A collective gasp rippled through the group as they took it all in.

"Holy smokes! It looks like some kind of amusement park!" Kirishima, a redheaded boy with a rather impressive physique for you guys age, pointed at the complex with wide eyes; his muscles straining against his hero uniform.

"A shipwreck," Thirteen boomed, "a landslide, a fire, a windstorm... and so on! I created this training facility to prepare you to deal with different types of disasters. I call it the Unforseen Simulation Joint, or USJ for short!"

A few students muttered comparisons to Universal Studios Japan under their breath. You smirked, unsurprised by the uninspired name.

As Thirteen continued her introductory speech, Aizawa sauntered in, his usual stoic expression etched on his face. He stopped beside Thirteen, a brief conversation passing between them that only served to deepen the furrow on his brow.

As the two adults talked, a smart part of you wanted to eavesdrops and see what it was, but ultimately decided against it; it's not like you'll actually learn something from it.

"That man is the height of irresponsibility," Aizawa sighed, shaking his head before glancing back at the students. "The clock's ticking. We should get started." He moved aside, clearing the way for Thirteen's grand demonstration.

Thirteen raised a hand, her voice booming once more. "Excellent! Before we begin, let me just say one thing... well, maybe two things. Possibly three, four, or..." she trailed off, earning a collective sweatdrop from the student body.

As Thirteen expounded on the power and potential dangers of their quirks, emphasizing the importance of responsible quirk usage and the true essence of heroism, you found yourself stifling a yawn as your mind wandered.

Yes, quirks could be used for destruction as well as heroism, it's practically common sense, yet here you all were.

Honestly, with so many rules put in place, you couldn't help but feel like being a villain seemed like a much less tedious career choice.

Just as Thirteen finished her speech with a dramatic bow, a sudden plunge into darkness sent shivers down everyone's spine.

A dark purple mist-like portal materialized in the center of the plaza, the swirling vortex pulsating with an unnatural light. Then, figures began to emerge, their forms obscured by the shadows cast by the portal.

A collective gasp rippled through the group of students. Confusion morphed into fear as the students buzzed with questions. Kirishima leaned forward, peering curiously at the portal. "Woah, what is that thing? Some surprise training exercise? High-tech villain simulation?" he asked. "Wait, has the training started already?"

Villains?

The word echoed in your head, a foreign concept whispered in hushed tones but never truly experienced.

Ever since you woke up in this quirk-infested world, heroes were all you'd ever known. Sure, you'd seen countless reports of villains being apprehended and brought to justice, dramatic displays of power broadcasted on every news channel. But to see them here, in person, was an entirely different experience.

Your mind raced, sifting through the possibilities. A villain attack during a training exercise? Either a brilliant diversion or an incredibly reckless gamble.

Aizawa's eyes widened as the portal began to spew forth figures clad in villainous attire. "Stay back and together! Don't move!" he barked, his voice tight with urgency as he yanked on his goggles, his gaze hardening as it landed on the approaching villains. "Thirteen! Protect the students!"

Aizawa's pronouncement hung heavy in the air, shattering the atmosphere like a dropped glass.

Your focus shifted to the pro-hero. His reaction confirmed your suspicions—this was no simulation. These were real villains, a fact driven home by Aizawa's harsh glare directed at the figures emerging from the portal.

These were the outcasts, the rule breakers—the very antithesis of the heroes you'd grown accustomed to observing.

A thrill, a subtle current of excitement, snaked its way through you. This wasn't part of the plan. This was chaos, a disruption to the established order—a wrinkle thrown into the carefully constructed tapestry of your "observation session."

The portal began shrinking as all the villains—except two—spread out to the different zones. One was a large, hulking, muscular figure with skin like polished onyx, etched with a roadmap of jagged scars and an exposed brain. The other, a lanky figure with grayish-blue hair, covered in dry patches and old scars marring his pale skin; fourteen embalmed hands were strategically placed to cling to his body.

The mist-portal soon coalesced into a head with two glowing gold eyes. "Thirteen... and Eraser Head, huh? The teacher's schedule we received the other day...said that All Might was also supposed to be here." The mist spoke, a hint of amusement in his raspy voice.

A nervous tremor ran through the crowd. Your gaze, usually veiled with practiced indifference, sharpened as it flickered between the approaching villains and the faces of the students of 1-A, now etched with a mixture of fear and confusion. You subtly observed the students, gauging their reactions.

You couldn't help but smirk internally. This unexpected turn of events was far more interesting than any pre-planned exercise.

A genuine villain attack would provide a much clearer picture of Class 1-A's strengths, weaknesses, and most importantly, how they worked together under pressure.

This was exactly the kind of chaos you thrived in.

***le gasp, villians!?

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artemis32 · 2 months

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Lovelorn

Yandere Class 1A x reader

yeah, uh, i hate this, but you get what you get

mbe masterlist

Izuku was at a loss.

He'd tried everything - absolutely everything - to get you to open up. To talk. To partake in group activities outside of class

But no matter what he did, no matter how he tried to sell the idea, no matter how manipulative he was, you declined.

Every. Single. Time.

What made it worse was that he knew several other people in your class were trying to achieve the same thing.

Mina had invited you out more times than he could keep count of, and each time she was met with a short, harsh rejection.

Sero and Kaminari had joked with you, trying to get you to at least crack a hint of a smile.

No success.

Momo constantly offered to help you study, and when you inevitably said no, she would insist on tea parties and lunch dates and shopping trips with the rest of the girls in the class. You had stared at her with a blank gaze until she felt uncomfortable enough to leave.

Even Uraraka, as sweet as she was, was unable to crack your tough exterior.

Izuku realised that they were quickly running out of options. They'd run through the list of class members they could turn to for a solution, and sooner or later they'd have to accept the worst-case scenario.

They'd have to ask Bakugo for help.

****

You hated your classmates.

They were annoying. They were insistent.

When they were around, you never got so much as two minutes of peace and quiet.

It was bearable during the first few months of your first year, when you could go home and have a break from their never-ending questions.

But then the school had decided that it was in the best interest of the students to have you all move into dorms.

You hadn't known a single moment of peace since.

There always seemed to be someone attached to your hip, or trailing a few steps behind you, or eyeing you from across the room.

It was annoying, and you thought you’d made that clear.

In the beginning, you thought they had all been so insistent because they were curious about your quirk.

That in itself was understandable - no one knew one another, so it was natural for everyone to want to get to know their classmates quirks.

You knew of everyone else’s quirks - of course you did, you knew everything about them - and for the most part, they knew about yours, or as much as you’d told them.

Teleportation.

You thought that would be enough to satiate them, but evidently, you were wrong.

At first, your classmates, Izuku specifically, wanted to know about all the intricacies of your quirk - the parameters, drawbacks, limits, range, all of it. That had been the first warning sign. You were taught growing up to never tell anyone more about your quirk than they needed to know. That was enough for you to avoid Izuku.

All of your classmates seemed to be in awe of your power, which was strange. You weren’t particularly fond of your quirk. It was just so boring.

Teleportation, especially at your current level, wasn’t very useful to a hero. You weren’t much good when you were only able to teleport yourself.

Regardless, you were working on improving your quirk as best you could.

A small part of your mind whispered to you that they knew about things they shouldn’t, but that was just the usual bout of paranoia getting to you. You’d know whatever they knew straight away.

****

You teleportation quirk had developed at four years old, which was slightly younger than your father had been banking on. He’d gone to great lengths to teach you how to control your ability - at four years old, you had a tendency to just disappear. Not because you wanted to, or because you were actively thinking about leaving. No, it was more because you had absolutely zero control over yourself or your quirk.

By the time you turned six, you’d mastered the control your father so desperately wanted you to learn. You found that keeping your emotions in check helped more than consciously thinking about not using your quirk.

That degree of control couldn’t have developed at a better time, because eight months later, right before your seventh birthday, you developed your second quirk.

Telepathy.

That’s what became the real bane of your existence.

Sure, you were blessed to have two quirks. In fact, you loved it as a child. But controlling this quirk proved to be significantly more difficult than your first.

You managed to get it under control, for the most part. You made sure that you weren’t blaring your thoughts out loud constantly, and you learnt how to talk to people one on one pretty quickly.

What you couldn’t control, even close to ten years after discovering your second quirk, was how to shut other people’s thoughts out.

It was a never-ending battle, trying not to up and leave whenever you got too overwhelmed.

You’re sure someone could have helped you. The adults in your life - middle school teachers, your friends, their parents, maybe even Mr Aizawa and your classmates could have helped you, but you would never breathe so much as a word to them about your quirk - not when you saw how people reacted to the idea of someone being able to read their every thought.

So you kept it to yourself, occasionally making use of your teleportation quirk to get a moment of silence, leaping far, far away from civilisation, from people’s thoughts.

In those moments alone, it wasn’t so bad. You thought about how incredible your quirks actually were, about how fortunate you were to have a quirk at all, never mind two.

Then you’d return back to your dorm, and the cycle would repeat.

****

You would admit, it was pretty funny.

Hearing how strangely obsessed your classmates were with you was actually hilarious, especially considering they thought you had no idea. Not to mention, constantly ruining their supposedly brilliant plans.

Some of their ideas truly were brilliant, and they may have worked, had you not known about them in advance.

There were times that you almost felt bad for them. Almost. But playing along with them, seeing just how far you could push them without raising suspicion - it was fun.

Like right now, for example.

“-but I’m sure the weather will be clear enough for a picnic next weekend, since you don’t seem to like the idea of a tea party. What do you think?”

Yaoyorozu and Mina, who stood in front of your desk as you stared out the window, were still talking. Of course, what they were saying sounded nice enough, but their thoughts betrayed their true intentions.

Come oooonnnnnn, say yes, say yes! Just one bit of personal information, that’s all I need. I absolutely have to win this bet with Kaminari, so just give me something to work with!

Mina was someone who remained loud and talkative both within her mind, and when talking to people aloud.

The bet she was thinking about had been a running gag for a while now, something you had almost grown bored of.

Mina, Denki and Sero had made a bet; whoever was first to learn a tidbit of personal information about you, from you, got free reign of the communal gaming system in the dorm lounge for a month.

At least, that's what it started out as in the beginning.

It quickly reached the ears of the other students in your class, and everyone wanted in on the bet.

The promise of dibs on the game system long forgotten, their focus quickly moved on to bragging rights - after all, getting you to reveal any amount of personal information was seen as a great feat, one worthy of praise.

It had been funny at first, seeing how they scrambled to talk to you first, or the awkward ways they interacted with you to get even the slightest sliver of information.

Now, their thoughts gave you a headache whenever they were near.

You could probably have gone to Mr Aizawa if you had to - you were sure you could fabricate some evidence of their weird behaviour and have him intervene.

But the problem was, he was just as bad.

He had this weird, protective mindset.

It had creeped you out at first, but with time, you'd almost grown fond of his concern. It was... endearing. Kind of. Like a father. Or a puppy.

Regardless, he knew about their antics, and he hadn't bothered with them so far, so you decided it would be best if you kept your knowledge of the situation to yourself.

“No. Thank you though,” you reply smoothly, turning away from them to signal the end of the conversation.

But of course, they never really took no as an answer.

“Why? If it’s because you don’t want to be around a ton of people, then don’t worry about it - it’ll be like, eight of us. Please,” they ask, eyes wide and hopeful.

You’re saved, literally, by All Might entering the classroom with a silent shuffle.

“To your seats everyone, get to your seats please.”

****

Even without the use of your quirk, you can feel your class glowering from across the room.

You aren’t sure how your purple haired companion doesn’t realise that they’re glaring daggers at him - he really doesn’t even register that they’re looking at him at all.

But he doesn’t mention it, and no thoughts of them cross his mind, so you pay them no mind.

You liked Shinso. He was good company - quiet, polite, and his thoughts were the kind that barely skirted the edge of your consciousness. Being around him was like a breath of fresh air, so you clung to him.

It wasn’t often that you found someone who didn’t induce a migraine as soon as they entered the room. In fact, you could count on one hand the number of people you’d met that you could tolerate for longer than ten minutes.

Shinso was one, and Aizawa, surprisingly, was another.

Even more surprising than that though, had to be that Bakugo of all people had a quiet mind.

If anyone had known about your quirk and you told them, you were sure they’d call you a liar.

But it was the truth. The angry blond had such a tranquil mind that, if he allowed it, you’d befriend him. But you’d grown an aversion to being near him, as wherever Bakugo was, a crowd of classmates was sure to follow.

You’re brought back to the present moment as Shinso shakes his hand in front of your face, throwing you a quizzical look.

“Ah, sorry, I zoned out.”

He nods in understanding, before glancing behind you.

“Just thought I’d let you know; your classmates look like they want my head on a stick,” he says in a bored tone, eyes sliding back to you a moment later.

You make a noise at the back of your throat.

“Yeah,” you wince, “I noticed that. I didn’t want to mention it.”

He shrugs, standing up and offering you his hand.

“Well, then let’s find somewhere else to sit, huh?”

You smile. Your classmates are outraged, seething as you accept his hand and sweep out of the cafeteria.

Thank goodness, you think, there were so many voices.

You only went to the cafeteria because Shinso liked the soba they served.

Honestly, braving the bustling centre felt like someone was hitting between your eyes with an ice-pick - pure torture.

The flood of thoughts fades as the two of you walk further from the main building, and your shoulders slump with relief.

If he notices, Shinso doesn’t comment. You’d thought originally that he was just extremely unobservant, but he really just didn’t think about or mention anything unless it raised any actual concern.

You’d realised that when you had accompanied him to a private training session with Aizawa, and you’d had a migraine from a long day of dealing with your classmates.

He only brought it up, openly thought about it when he saw how you grabbed at your head out of the corner of his eye.

Being with him was peaceful, you’d realised in that moment, because he had incredible control over his thoughts. That must have been because of his own predominantly mental quirk.

The thought made you happy, for some reason.

****

You liked when Mr Aizawa used his quirk on you.

The rest of your classmates hated it, and it really seemed to throw them off, but to you, it felt like sweet relief. It made everything quiet. Peaceful.

There were times where it threw you off, suddenly hearing nothing but radio silence, but after some adjustment, it was as if someone had released the pressure on your skull. Not that he, or anyone else knew.

Though, on some occasions, when he looked at you before you had time to mask the relief on your face, you saw the slight glimmer of something akin to realisation in his eyes. If he knew, he never brought it up.

It should’ve had you on edge - the fact that he might’ve known, but never said anything. But it didn’t. You didn’t know why.

If anyone were to discover your second quirk, you’d be in a world of trouble. Having an unregistered quirk, especially at your age, in UA of all places - it was unheard of.

It was criminal.

So you should’ve been terrified at the thought of someone finding out, knowing about your quirk.

But surely if he knew, he’d have brought it up by now?

“Quiet down class,” Aizawa demands flatly.

They don’t listen. Of course they don’t.

Their incessant chatter matches their constant barrage of thoughts, and it seems particularly noisy today. All their thoughts are focused on you, and it leaves a sharp throb in your temples.

Aizawa glares at them, eyes flashing crimson for a moment, and you feel all the tension melt away. You prepare yourself for the inevitable rush of returning voices, but it doesn’t come. Aizawa, for some reason, keeps his quirk activated, gaze roaming the class, lingering on you for a second too long before he looks away, brows furrowing as he blinks.

You mask your wince with an awkward cough, shifting in your seat. Now, most thoughts were centred around Aizawa and how scary he was.

The thought makes you laugh. They were so far off the mark, it was comical. Aizawa was like an overly concerned parent, thoughts constantly circling his students, how he could push them to be better. Honestly, it was quite heart warming, and the fact that his actions were so glaringly different to his thoughts made it ten times funnier.

Aizawa calls your name, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“Sensei?”

“See me after class.”

Before you have a chance to delve into his mind to see what he was thinking, a barrage of thoughts hit you from all angles, your classmates wondering, like you, what this was all about.

You don’t give much thought to his request, too overwhelmed to try and sift through the turbulent sea of thoughts.

****

Aizawa schools his expression, staring down at you blankly.

“Well?”

You looked so young like this – wide eyed, trembling hands, pale, blanched face. You were panicked. He knew you were, but he made no move to ease your worries, waiting instead for confirmation.

“I– Sensei…”

He feels his brow twitch.

Not in annoyance. Not with you. Never you. You tended to tug at his heart strings, for reasons he didn’t fully understand.

Maybe because you were so young? You appeared younger still with that gleam of innocence in your eyes. Hero society was no place for someone like you - you were someone heroes should be protecting, rather than welcoming into their ranks.

“Answer the question.”

Your throat bobs as you swallow and turn your head to look out the window.

Were you thinking of a way to talk yourself out the situation? Were you trying to find a way to play off his discovery as nothing more than a funny happenstance? He didn’t doubt it.

“…yes.”

The word weighs heavily on you, shoulders sagging as you stand before him, curling in on yourself. His heart aches at the sight.

How overwhelming was it, to keep something like this to yourself? To live in fear of someone discovering your secret and hating you for it?

“And you’ve kept this to yourself for the past ten years? You’ve had no training or help whatsoever?”

You seem surprised at the shock colouring his tone, as if you’d expected him to be angry or fearful, rather than sympathetic. Again, he wondered how you’d dealt with this all alone for so long.

He sighs.

“You’re not in trouble. I’m not mad.”

He sees the tension melt from your posture in real time, as if someone had lifted an anvil off your shoulders.

“If you’d like, I can help you. We could do some training after classes; help you learn control? I can’t promise anything, but it might help.”

Of all the things Aizawa had expected to happen, you bursting into tears wasn’t one of them. Some long buried protective instinct rears it’s head at the sight of your red rimmed eyes as you try desperately to mop away the tears on your cheeks.

He awkwardly shifts from one foot to another, patting your shoulder in a pathetic attempt to comfort you.

“I’m really not in trouble? Y-You don’t hate me for listening in on your thoughts without permission?”

Again, that same painful clench in his heart.

“No, I don’t. Why would I hate you for something you can’t control? None of your classmates would either, I can promise you that.”

Aizawa spends the next twenty minutes clumsily comforting you, dismissing you as soon as your tears have stopped and he makes his way to the principal’s office a few minutes later. When he arrives, he’s immediately greeted by a very tense looking All Might and an oblivious, chattering Nezu.

He seats himself in the armchair next to Toshinori, posture sagging.

“You were right.”

Nezu cackles at that, hardly able to get a word in through his triumphant laughter. His reaction is in stark contrast to the other two men and their responses. The two share a tense, understanding look, glancing back at Nezu as he calms his laughter.

“Oh, this is most wonderful! I can’t wait to see what happens!”

Guilt eats away at Aizawa. He could only hope you wouldn’t hate him and Toshinori, or even your classmates for what they planned on doing.

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