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To those who know Eraserhead, he is a man of apathy and enigma. And to those who know Aizawa Shouta, he is a man who cares too much for his own good and an emotional catastrophe, but Aizawa will argue to Pluto and back that that is falsified information. Which is why the dark haired man is definitely not standing by the staffroom window gazing down at the front yard with a half-fond-half-grimacing expression on his usually straight face.

Colours dot the yard as students bustle about, dissimilar to the usual sea of grey that calmly washes up UA’s grounds. Aizawa feels his right eye twitch at having stared at the obnoxiously bright costumes that students have donned for the day for too long, the extended amount of time gone without blinking resulting in a sharp twinge behind his eyes.

Groaning, the pro-hero turns away slightly from the glass pane, choosing instead to rub at his stinging eyes. He knows he shouldn’t do this, but after seeing no less than forty All Might costumes, patriotic colours and all, he throws away all forms of logic.

As if one of that idiot is not problematic enough. Aizawa broods. 

“Shooooooutaaa!” A leather-clad figure glomps him from behind, the added weight catching Aizawa by surprise and very nearly makes him drop the mugs of hot coffee he is holding. A splash of the dark liquid escapes his mug and finds its destination on the pro-hero’s hand, causing said hero to hiss and swiftly knock his elbow back in retaliation. A loud ‘oof’ informs him of his successful revenge, the affected individual pushing themselves back upright, though an arm remains slung over Aizawa’s shoulders.

“Shouta, that wasn’t very nice of you,” Yamada Hizashi pouts. “I’m growing moulds waiting for my coffee!” That said, the voice hero plucks his drink out from the shorter man’s hand, chirping out his thanks as he brings his gaze outside the building, where Aizawa’s attention was before.

“Looking for a mini-you?” Yamada teases, taking a careful sip out of his steaming coffee, eyes hidden behind orange tinted shades as they jump from student to student. “Hey, a mini-me! Four mini-mes!”

True enough, there were a few couple of students decked out in full or incomplete Present Mic attire, laughing rambunctiously at the sight of each others hairs. Aizawa honestly is a little impressed at the amount of work they must have put in in order to get their hairs like that.

Aizawa snorts. “As if one of you isn’t enough. Multiple Present Mics may very well destroy the entirety of Japan.” Yamada squawks at the insult, hand flying out to swat Aizawa on the bicep, causing him to nearly choke on his own coffee.

After a short squabble, they settle back down into their previous positions, still facing the window. “And don’t be ridiculous,” Aizawa furrows his brows slightly, a grimace tugging at his lips.

“You know people don’t exactly admire or like me the way they do other heroes.”

Especially after your fuck ups from USJ and the training camp and-

“You know that’s not true.” Yamada whispers back, cutting off his self-depreciating thoughts. A hand snakes around Aizawa’s waist and pulls the man closer, so that he was snug against the blond, a chin coming down to rest on his shoulder, uncovered by the absence of his capture weapon, which is laying in a heap on his desk.

“Your class adores you. And Shinsou. And so do the other teachers and I. We know what you’re really like, Shouta.” He nuzzles against the shorter man’s neck. “Like they would after how badly I failed at protecting them at the forest camp.” Aizawa spits bitterly, grip around his coffee mug getting slightly tighter.


“Save it, Hizashi.”

Yamada does, and he merely gives a sigh. Pressing a short kiss against Aizawa’s exposed neck (he likes his partner’s neck, thank you very much), the voice hero strolls back to his desk, where Midnight, Snipe and Ectoplasm are chatting animatedly about their students dressing up as them.

Shifting his gaze back towards the yard, roving through students dressed as a range of Aizawa’s fellow co-workers, both within and without UA, and not a single one of himself, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of insecurity.

Which is ridiculous because he doesn’t care, and with how much effort he’d put in to avoid the media, it is no surprise the hero Eraserhead isn’t known to many who have not been previously acquainted with him.

‘Don’t know you?' 

'Or hate you?’

There is no way after both the incidents UA had been involved in, both of which he had been the subject of criticism, the students and public still have trust in him. He’d been pinned as scapegoat for both instances, the media calling out on his supposed incompetency as a both a hero and a teacher.

“Homeroom starts in ten, Eraser.”

Kayama helpfully reminds, looking at him through piercing icy blues from where she sits on Yamada’s desk. “You mentioned having something important to go through with the kids?”

That’s right. He needs to talk to them about the upcoming assignments and tests schedules. Muttering his thanks, Aizawa one-shots the rest of his warm coffee before grabbing his papers from his desk. Giving a small nod of goodbye at the other teachers, he leaves the staffroom and towards his homeroom class.

 “... and with this you should be able to deduce that this particular compound is lead(II) sulfate." 

Homeroom passes without a cinch. It’s now his first proper lesson with his class, Chemistry, the last lesson before lunch. Aizawa tiredly eyes his kids and their respective costumes with a small but well hidden smile. He’d been too absorbed in administrative stuff to take a proper look.

Truly the number of students who’s put in a commendable amount of effort to dress up like their favourite heroes is astounding. 

Midoriya is dressed in a full-blown All Might costume, but without the latex. Instead, the prints of the number one hero’s costume have been clearly and carefully replicated on a tracksuit, complete with a cape attached to the tracksuit’s shoulder pads. Bakugou, slouches in his seat, clad in a hoodie that also shares the same design as Midoriya’s shirt, red eyes glaring intently at the green haired boy’s head, as if trying to burn a hole in the ridiculous thick green hair of Midoriya’s.

Kirishima is the other whose costume almosts mirrors that of the original. A ridiculously large red cape sits atop the boy’s shoulders, a metallic half-mask covering the bottom of his face. Underneath, he wears a tight shirt and baggy red pants.

‘Crimson Riot, huh?’ Aizawa hasn’t heard from the older hero in a while. Though it’d be better that way, lest the student finds out and starts hounding him about his idol.

Yaoyorozu has on what appears to be a replica of Midnight’s costume, though the material of the hero’s extremely thin tights has been swapped out for a thicker fabric, and the chest area isn’t as… form-fitting.


That keep some people from staring, not that anyone will approach her with the way Jirou is glaring at the boys. Just Mineta, actually. The girl has on a jacket that is similar to Present Mic’s own, and a pair of familiar headphones sit around her neck.

Uraraka had gone for the Thirteen look, and is now decked out in an astronaut’s suit, complete with the head gear and all, though the brunette had chosen to open the visor during class. And Aoyama has on a… really sparkly costume? Aizawa honestly can’t tell what hero he is dressed as under all that sparkle.

Oh well, at least the kids are putting their own personalities into their outfit.

As expected, there isn’t a single Eraserhead costumer in his class. But Aizawa already knew from the start that the kids don’t idolise him, considering this year is the first time most of them has actually heard of him. He’s doing this underground hero thing pretty well, if he can say so himself.

With no less than five All Mights in his class, the teacher honestly wonders if any of his students actually knows about the darker side of being a hero… The rise of All Might had certainly pushed crime down to an all-time low, but it has given way for yet another problem: the misguided idolisation of heroes.

How will his students react when the harsh reality of being a hero is revealed to him? Although some of them already are aware…

He sighs, shaking his head slightly under his capture weapon. He will make sure they are ready when the time comes.

For now, he needs to hammer the understanding of qualitative analysis of chemical reactions into their dense heads or else he’s going to start throwing heavy items, or so help him.

“Any questions?”

From the blank faces on at least half the class’s faces, the teacher knows he’s going to have to spend yet -- yet another lesson going through the topic again. Seriously, Chemistry isn’t even that hard.

He rubs his temple.

“If anyone still has difficulties with this topic, you may come look for me after school, don’t bother staying back now, I don’t need you missing lunch for Chemistry.”

Just as he finishes his sentence, the bell rings, and he sees his student’s eyes light up. “I will see you for Hero Law and Ethics later. You are dismissed.”

Jumping up from their seats, 1-A thank their teacher in a cacophony of voices, scrambling out of class with excited murmurs. Aizawa raises his eyebrows. They usually get excited for lunch, but not this excited.

Maybe it’s the spirit week spirit or something. He wouldn’t know. Even back in his highschool days, Aizawa never did dress up for spirit week, choosing instead to seize the opportunity to come to school in a comfortable shirt and baggy sweatpants everyday. In his second year, after Yamada persistently begged him to comply to the theme, he did put in a bit more effort.

He’d come to class with a tiny accessory on his being that fits the theme. Aizawa didn’t see what’s so funny or amazing about it, but his class had cooed and giggled at his appearance, Yamada and Tensei being no better.

Tensei had grinned obnoxiously every time he looked at whatever accessory Aizawa had on, and Yamada would clam up and turn red, eyes never leaving the short male. After which he started cooing at how adorable he was, trapping him in a suffocating embrace every day when he first saw each item.

Tiny accessory for tiny boy!’ He’d said.

The blond never tried to call Aizawa small again.

Soon, the classroom empties, and the dark haired teacher spends some time in the peaceful silence neatly organising his notes and papers, placing them in a stack before leaving the room. He shuts the door behind him, beginning to make his way towards the staffroom.

Aizawa passes by students dressed up in different heroes, out of their classes for their lunch break. He deftly swerves through the crowd with ease. The students are mostly taking photos together. This kind of reminds him of the legendary All All Might incident (Yamada had dubbed it the All All Might incident and it stuck). During their final year, the blond along with a few other seniors organised an impromptu picture taking session on UA grounds. Using his quirk, Yamada yelled for all All Might costumers to come to the front yard now.

They accumulated at least 150 students, all of different sizes and colour, but all dressed in the Number One hero’s apparel. Aizawa was bribed into wearing a ridiculous headband with the hero’s signature cow licks, sticking straight up like bunny ears, and he’d joined the picture. He still has the image in his house.

Aizawa smiles fondly at the memory, before a suspicious looking scene attracts his attention.

Out the window down the school yard, are his students. They seem to be headed away from the cafeteria, which puzzles the underground hero. ‘What are they scheming now?’ He narrows his eyes as he watches the group of teenager stroll happily towards their dorms, and eventually a student, Kaminari, looks behind them and jumps when he makes eye contact with Aizawa.

He watches as the blond tugs at Kirishima’s arm, sparking with nervous energy. The redhead looks back too, as he freezes as well. He waves awkwardly at the teacher, grin crooked brows creased. They seem to have gotten the attention of the rest of the group, as some of them looks up at the school building before hurriedly making their ways to the dorms.

But Aizawa’ll let it go. No point in terrorising the kids when they are on break. He can do so later during Hero Law and Ethics; the class is particularly weak at the subject.

Returning to the teacher’s staffroom, the underground hero tosses his stack of papers on his desk, before grabbing his sleeping bag and heading over to the corner of the room.

The teachers had made him a nap corner for his birthday two years back as a joke, but Aizawa really appreciated the gift. The corner is covered with a soft carpet and multiple pillows and beanbags, so that the tired man can get some comfortable sleep.

Though it’s not uncommon to see other teachers chilling out in his corner whenever they are on break. Aizawa doesn’t mind as long as they leave a spot for him to nap.

Laying out his sleeping bag, Aizawa crawls into the warmth, cacooning himself inside the yellow material, resting his eyes.

It’s a few minutes later when the sound of boots on the floor tiles disturb the sleeping man, causing him to frown slightly in his sleep, as the sound gets closer. Without opening his eyes, he feels the person kneel over his body, before settling down in the plush carpet next to him. Gentle hands arrange his head so that it lies on firm thighs, though a little boney, but Aizawa knows exactly who it is. He leans into the warm body, arms sliding out of his sleeping bag and around the person’s torso, all with his eyes still closed. A hand lands in his hair, stroking and fiddling with the hair strands. With the gentle repetition, Aizawa falls into a cosy sleep.

Yamada will wake him up when he needs to leave for class.

 With heavy footsteps, Aizawa strolls towards his class, hands full with marked assignments and new worksheets for his students. A thick file sits at the top of the pile, storing all of his notes and lesson plans. Once he’s reached his destination, he stops outside the closed door, awaiting Ectoplasm’s exit which concludes the end of Maths.

Aizawa hears excited murmurs coming from inside the room, and he raises an eyebrow in suspicion.

Ectoplasm must be really something else if he can get the students so excited about Maths.

The huge door slides open as the aforementioned hero steps out of the classroom. He gives the dark haired man a glance and somehow manages to give Aizawa a smile with that creepy-ass mask of his. Giving the other hero a brief nod in acknowledgement, the homeroom teacher lithely adjusts the load in his arms. He steps into the classroom, mouth already open to inform the students to take out their relevant textbooks, but nothing comes out of it.

Instead, he nearly drops the entire stack cradled in his arms as he catches sight of what awaited him in the room. A few loose sheets flutter to the floor though. But that doesn’t concern Aizawa as much as the scene before him does.

Sitting quietly in their seats, the students of Class 1-A gazes back at him unnervingly, well behaved with their Hero Law and Management books already out. But instead of brightly coloured costumes that rudely assault Aizawa’s eyes, every single one of his students are dressed In dark, dull, boring black jumpsuits. Dark, dull, boring and black like a certain pro-hero’s costume.

‘What the fuck.’

When the hell did the kids change into his costume. 

Everyone has their eyes locked on him, pulling straight faces as though nothing is out of the ordinary. No. They merely watch as their teacher freeze on the spot where he stands.

Okay, fuck, fuck, this is weird how does he respond to this.

Aizawa can actually feel his face heating up. He desperately tries to hide his face behind his scarf, but his face emanates so much heat it makes it slightly uncomfortable. Taking a step to his post might be a good first move.

Letting out a short cough Aizawa drags himself to the teacher’s desk, making sure to keep his face hidden from plain sight. He realises he is unnaturally silent, even for how silent he usually is, and his gait appears less confident than usual. He sees the shit-eating grins breaking out on a couple of the students’ faces

The students in the first row are trying so hard not to smile, indicative of their lip biting and twitching facial muscles. Well he hopes those brats enjoy their front row seats to see his no doubt red face.

Trying his hardest to avoid any form of eye contact, he keeps his eyes on his table, occasionally bringing them back up only to quickly look down in abject embarrassment. It is unlike him to get so flustered, why is he behaving like this?

How unbecoming.

… How does Yamada-- and all the other teachers-- deal with this… This blatant display of rebellion (affection?). Aizawa for the first time feels at loss in his own lesson.

Taken down by 20 teenagers.’ 

“Oka Y, tAk e o--”

To Aizawa’s horror, his words come out cracked, as though he were a goddamned teenager all over again. He coughs in an attempt to play it off as a sore throat. Fuck if his kids are having it though.

A couple of the students break out into giggles, hands slapping over their mouths to stifle their snorts. Iida raises his hand -- even Iida is in on it-- yelling, “Sensei! Are you alright? Do you need to see Recovery Girl?”

God help him.

“Coming to class ill is the height of irrationality, sensei.” Sero snickers.

Nevermind, God has abandoned him and threw him in the pit with 20 demon children.

“I-I’m fine, Iida, don’t worry about me. Sero I will give you detention.”

“Aizawa-sensei,” Hagakure waves her hand from the front of the class, “your face is pretty red, are you perhaps…”

Don’t say it.


The class erupts in chaos then, screams of laughter bursting free from the students as they broke their façades. A sharp wave of heat wash over the underground hero’s face, there’s no hiding how red his face must be now.

The attention he’s receiving is such a foreign concept. He doesn’t know how to deal with this. A rowdy bunch of kids, he can handle, but not when he is at the centre of attention.

A full three minutes passes as Aizawa stands awkwardly behind the teacher’s desk, shifting from foot to foot as he chews on his bottom lip trying to collect himself. His face is buried deep within the safety of his capture weapon, free from the children’s sight as he contemplates his next course of action.

The class is still being cheeky, laughing and making jokes at the expense of their teacher’s composure.

... Know what, he’s just going to treat this like he usually would.

“You guys better get your acts together and your books out before I expel all of you." 

He voice rises above the din caused by his class’s excitement, the weight of his words putting an immediate damper on their moods, especially after the harsh tone Aizawa had taken up. They quickly make their way back to their seats, faces scrunched up in confusion and fear.

He feels horrible being the cause of those faces.

“We’re going to start from page 67…”


The rest of the class passes with a heavy tension; no one dared say a thing even when Aizawa’s voice cracks and he forgets his words throughout the class every time he sees the students. The silence gnaws at Aizawa’s heart, a sense of overwhelming guilt building up within his chest when he sees the sombre expressions his students had on. 

He goes to sleep halfway through the class, having assigned the students with class work. When the bell rings, Aizawa dismisses the class, but to his surprise, no one leaves.

Usually they would all be in a hurry to leave the classroom, since his class is the last period of the day. Instead, they all shuffle awkwardly in their seats and stares down at their feet.

… If they’re not going to leave, he will.

The dark haired man packs up his notes and papers and makes to leave, feeling deep inside like an absolute ass and a horrible being.

‘This is why people hate you.'  


Yaoyorozu’s voice shrills from the back of the class, loud and clear. He stops right before the door, turning around to face the class. The girl is fidgeting where she stands, fiddling with her mockery of Aizawa’s capture weapon. The teacher waits a couple moments before she finally speaks.

“W-We want to apologise for… this,” she gestures to her current attire. “We didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, we just, really wanted to show you our appreciation for being such a g-great teacher and we just--”

Oh fuck she’s crying.

Now that he looks at the rest of the teenagers, they all seem on the verge of tears and gods Aizawa feels like such a dick. 

“Please don’t cry.”

He sighs, making his way back to his desk. “I must… Apologise for how insensitive I must have seemed. I first apologise for that. I am simply unused to such… Attention.” He sweeps his gaze across the room, seeing that all of the kids were listening intently (aside from Bakugou who had on his I-do-not-wish-to-seem-like-I’m-caring-but-I-kind-of-am face).

“I can promise you I was not upset,” he sees some of them perk up at that mention, “I was merely overwhelmed and unsure of how to respond to such situations. I’m an underground hero I deliberately avoid such attention so…”

He trails off, scratching at the back of his head in exasperation. Really, he’s just not good at socialising outside of hero work.

“So, you’re really not upset?” Uraraka meekly voices out, relief evident upon her face. Aizawa’s heart softens a little inside.

“Yeh, I’m not.”

Mina leaps to her feet before he was even done with his statement. “Great! Sensei, can we take a picture with you then?”

He feels his face freeze up a little.

The rest of the students begin to excitedly chatter amongst themselves, clambering out of their seats to huddle at Aizawa’s desk. He really had no choice but to agree. Not because he wants to make them happy of course, but because it’d be a pain to get past them.


The students cheered and proceeded to drag him out of the classroom, where Yamada was waiting, much to his surprise. “Hiz-- Mic? What are you doing here?”

“I heard the kids say they want a picture with you, and I wanted in.” The blond grins brightly, giving short waves at the kids.

Midoriya whispers something to Iida, and after a brief exchange he runs off somewhere with a curt “I’ll meet you guys in the yard!” Aizawa shakes his head. That problem child is always up to something.

The class begins to make their way down to the courtyard, enthusiastic chatters and loud voices permeating the walls and drawing everyone’s attention to them. Aizawa, being at the back of the group with Yamada, squirms under the gazes of the many eyes on him. He tries to hide his face in his capture weapon and slouch more to appear less noticeable, but it’s pretty eye-catching to have a crowd of 20 students dressed in all black as a hero whose identity is unknown to most.

Yamada’s presence doesn’t help too.

Speaking of Yamada, he appears slightly fidgety, twiddling his thumbs and being silent for once. “Is something wrong?” Aizawa asks, breaking the silence between them. They slow down just a little bit, his class moving on ahead of them, leaving the couple a good distance away from the group. “W-- No! I’m just--” The blond laughs breathily, and oh gods Aizawa is so in love with this man.

“I’m just so happy others see what a good person you are. You deserve so much more than what the world is giving you and I just-- I’m so glad your class appreciates you so much. They’re good kids.” Aizawa flushes a deep red at his boyfriend’s words.

His face just might combust.

“S-Shut up, Mic.” He mutters behind his scarf, eyes drawn away from the taller man and towards the floor. Which causes him to notice out of his peripheral two very familiar sets of costumes. Aizawa looks up and he kind of wants to die.

Without a word, Aizawa storms up to two students, both of whom he recognises because he takes their class for Year 3 Hero Law and Ethics.

Mirio Toogato stands proudly in a fairly well made Present Mic costume, normally slicked back hair now slicked up. His classmate Tamaki Amakiji stares at the approaching Aizawa in horror as he tugs frantically at Mirio’s sleeve. The nervous lad is fully dressed in an Eraserhead costume, though a grey scarf replaces his capture weapon. A few feet away, the last of the Big 3 Nejire Hadou, clad in the Dragon Hero Ryukyu’s hero costume, gives the two boys a cheeky grin.

“Aizawa-sensei! Look, I managed to get Tamaki to we--”

“You guys are expe--"  

Yamada quickly pulls the underground hero away by the arm, nervously chuckling as he diverts their path back on track. Aizawa has never felt more humiliated, not since the day Yamada confessed to him in highschool.

“Shouta I know you have a big bad reputation to keep and I know you don’t mean it but don’t expel kids every year.” Yamada hisses as he drags the humiliated hero to the front yard.

There, the kids are already trying to figure out a way to fit everyone within the frame, squabbling and pushing as they readjust their positions. Surprisingly, Shinsou Hitoshi of Class 1-C is there too, awkwardly standing in the midst of a 1-A mosh-pit. The boy is wearing a black hoodie along with simple black jeans, but under the collar Aizawa can see vaguely a bright yellow pair of goggles, tucked away underneath black fabric.

Aizawa knows the boy looks up to him, but he’d never been open about it. To see Shinsou with an Eraserhead goggle… Makes him feel all warm and fuzzy instead even if if makes him want to jump in the nearest trashcan again (long story). 

Toshinori is there as well, standing awkwardly tall to the side. He sees the other two heroes and he perks up, waving at them and gesturing them over to where he stands.

“Aizawa-sensei, Mic-sensei! Hurry!” Mina calls out, dramatically swinging her arms to guide them over.

In front of the group is Tetsutetsu from Class 1-B, holding a phone in his hands while he yells at them to “just fucking get into place you assholes!”

“Mic, isn’t this where we took the All Might photo?”

“The what photo?”

“I’ll show you the picture later, All Might-san. It was great.

He eyes the blond suspiciously, not quite satisfied with the half-hearted shrug Yamada gives in response.

He first takes a picture with his class and Shinsou alone, right smacked in the middle of the kids as they crowd around him, kneeling on one knee so as to not block those behind him with his height. They kids are just as rowdy as they usually are in class, and Aizawa doesn’t know how to keep up with their enthusiasm, merely cracking a little awkward smile that is less forced than he’d liked to admit.

Damn these kids making him soft.

Yamada and Toshinori joins the picture next, the Voice hero joining the underground hero on the ground while Toshinori stands beside the group.

“Mic-sensei! Squeeze in a little closer to Aizawa-sensei! Your hair’s blocking Asui!”

“Call me Tsuyu-chan.”

“Bakugou look more alive!”


“Guys let’s just take a normal photo--”

“Sero don’t drop me!”



… His kids are a mess but he loves them nonetheless.

“Alright, one, two three!”




“Thanks bro!” Kirishima yells when the other boy lowers the phone, hopping out the group and running over to give the silver-haired boy a high five. The rest of the class disperse, some making their way to Tetsutetsu to check out how the pictures turned out, while the rest remain where they stood, silently watching the others. 

Aizawa sighs as the crowd around him clears, pushing himself up to his feet. Yamada is still kneeling on one knee on the ground, gazing at him with a hint of a soft smile on his lips. His heart skips a beat upon making eye contact, and he looks away with a small ‘tch’, willing himself not to kiss the other man right there and then.

The kids call for their teacher to come over and look at the picture, excitedly waving him over, and Aizawa takes a step towards his class, only for a hand to firmly grasp his, stopping him from moving forward. The underground hero glances back at the blond still kneeling on the ground, green eyes hidden behind the heavy orange tint of his sunglasses with his head faced slightly to the ground beside him.

Seeing as the man is silent, Aizawa doesn’t expect an explanation from him. Instead, he diverts his gaze to his class, only to notice that they all share the same look of confusion on their faces.

But he also realises Toshinori is holding his phone up, recording a video of… him? Shinsou seem to be suppressing a smile, which is a rare sight for the boy.

“Mic, let g--…”

His words die off when he stares down at his boyfriend, caressing his left hand with his own, down on one knee while staring back at him with adoring eyes, sunglasses off this time. Yamada’s other hand gently cups Aizawa’s hand, holding him in a soft, warm grip.

He hears collective sharp inhales behind him where his students stand.

… Oh.

“Shouta, you and I have known each other for fifteen years, dated for eleven, and lived together for five. You know my insecurities, and I know yours. Your troubles are my troubles, and I know you feel the same, although we may need to work on that. 

We’ve gone through so much together, from our student days to hero lives; it gets difficult at times, especially since we don’t know if we will survive to see each other when we wake up. But regardless of all the complications and problems that arise from our relationship, I will never regret my decision to fall in love with you. So fuck the media and the public’s opinions.”

Yamada removes the hand covering his to reach into his inner breast pocket.


In his hand is a small golden ring with a thin band of black and a small diamond, held gently between Yamada’s thumb and index finger.

“Aizawa Shouta, I want to continue to stay by your side for the rest of our lives. Will you please make me the happiest man on Earth today?”

Aizawa’s lips begin to quiver slightly.

“Will you marry me?"  

There isn’t a single utterance from anyone or a single sound from the surroundings. It’s just him, and Yamada’s warm hand holding his. Aizawa barks out a short sob, disguised as a laugh, while tightening his grip.

“Really, Mic, in front of all the kids?”

He sees the blond’s face twitch a little in what seems to be worry, and he quickly follows up his statement.

“Of course I will.” 

His words are followed up by a lot of screaming, his students having released their bated breaths and with it their self-control. They crowd the couple, hollering and shedding tears and attracting a LOT of attention. In a corner of his mind, he can see other students holding their phones out as they celebrate the two pro-heroes' abrupt union.

But Aizawa doesn’t care, not with Yamada smiling brightly through teary eyes and sliding the gold band onto his ring finger, standing close enough for the shorter man to feel his body warmth but not close enough to be deemed inappropriate. Aizawa may hate attention, the attention from his and surrounding students alike, and judging from the phones that are out, the media in a couple of hours time. He chooses to focus in the moment, as Yamada kisses him gently on the lips, a chaste kiss that in Aizawa’s mind seals the deal (until he gets to put a ring on his partner too).

They’ll deal with the consequences later.