“Aizawa-sensei are you married?” Mina prodded.
Aizawa looked up from the schedule on his desk he was going over. “Get back to work.” Students were always like this, asking dumb questions to take up class time.
“Of course not, Mina, he doesn’t wear a ring,” Momo whispered back.
Sometimes Aizawa wished Hizashi would just screech in his ear and end his hearing once and for all. Being deaf might be nice.
“He could have a girlfriend though,” someone else contributed. “Not all couples wear rings.”
These kids were relentless. “If you all don’t get back to your work and shut up, I’m giving you a pop quiz,” Aizawa threatened.
Pathetic murmurings of “Sensei….” could be heard before they all finally quieted. Good, maybe they would even be able to avoid the pop quiz until next week.
When the class bell rang they were finally headed out the door, Aizawa could hear someone remind Kaminari that they had English class next. Evidently he hadn’t done his homework. Aizawa thought he could begin his free period but he was wrong, they weren’t letting him free yet.
A small group of kids, mostly the girls, was huddled in front of his desk. He sighed, “Yes?”
“Sorry if we embarrassed you, Sensei. We just want to get to know you better.”
“Forget it,” he replied. It wasn’t as though these damn tadpoles were his friends; there was no reason to get to know each other. There are certain boundaries between a teacher and student…
“So do you?” Hakagure persisted.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
‘I thought they were going to drop this damn topic,’ he thought to himself. “Go. To. Your. Class,” Aizawa ordered without batting an eyelash. Finally, they scurried off. ‘God damn it, were kids always this bold?’
They weren’t so hesitant to ask Mic-sensei now that their interests had been piqued about their teachers’ personal lives. Of course, it was far more fun to pry things out of Aizawa. Mic was pretty open.
“Mic-sensei, are you married?” Kirishima questioned.
Mic’s attention was grabbed with a look of shock, though not enough to knock the smile from his face. In the end his smile only grew bigger.
Someone else observed, “He wears lots of rings.” Another wise student called out, “Wouldn’t it be all over the media if he had a girlfriend thought? He’s super popular.”
Mic beamed at the comment regarding his popularity. “You are correct, dear students!” he burst, pointing a dramatic finger in the general direction of his class. “I do wear lots of rings, however none of these,” he wiggled his fingers, “are an engagement ring. I wear my wedding ring on a chain around my neck.” He pointed to his support gear latched around his neck, signaling that it was under the massive speaker system.
Some kids ‘Ooohh’-ed. It was a pretty interesting development. Not to mention they figured if they kept Mic talking, half of English class would be over by the time he finished. It had happened before.
“Don’t tell the media, my little parrots!” He held a finger to his lips. “It’s a secret between us, okay?” Oh course it was foolish to trust the kids with keeping a secret but Mic had his share of tabloid covers in the past, most of them speculating about his love life. He and Aizawa figured it would take them another good ten years to actually figure it out. Besides, the media was reasonably afraid of Mic. More than once he had let out a lens-shattering note, ruining half their equipment because they refused to cease.
The class looked enamored at the opportunity to be entrusted with a secret of Present Mic’s, except a few of the less interested who sat towards the back of the classroom.
“What’s she like?” Ochacko asked, Mic swore he could see hearts forming in her eyes. He remembered what it was like to be young and love-struck. Ochako would probably loose her mind if she knew he met his partner when he was at UA and that they’ve been together ever since then.
“Ah, Ah, Ah!” Mic peeked at his watch and promptly switched to his very American way of speaking English. “From now on all questions are to be asked in English.”
The faces on the kids who were paying attention fell. The others continued scribbling notes to each other and copying their homework answers for the next class.
Momo raised her hand tentatively. She liked a good challenge, “Professor, how long have you been with your lover?”
Mic tried to hold in his laughter, the kids pronunciation skills were borderline between shameful and cute. Not to mention he was sure Momo had no clue the connotations ‘lover’ had as compared to something more neutral like spouse or partner. Ah well, they were learning. After all, Mic did recognize conversation as one of the best ways to improve your skill in a second language.
“Thirteen years!” Mic answered proudly, still in English.
The kids stared, double-checking their brains that thirteen years really meant thirteen years. A few kids screwed up their faces trying to figure out how to word the questions they wanted to ask next. Their interest was piqued.
“What is she like?” Ochako tried again, now in English.
Mic smiled, “He’s one inch shorter than me.”
Only a quarter of the class picked up on exactly what he had just said. None of them felt very sure they had heard correctly.
“Sensei, that’s not a very good answer,” Tsuyu pointed out in her usual honest manner.
He didn’t even bother to admonish her for using Japanese; it had been a pretty piss poor answer.
“Alright, alright, we’re moving on!” Mic had a syllabus to stick to and he was pretty sure that if the kids went back to Aizawa’s class and asked him about Present Mic’s one-inch shorter wife, he would blow a gasket.
Mic leaned up against the doorframe of the faculty office, looking over the cluttered groupings of desks. Aizawa’s desk, bearing a framed photo of his cat, a couple stacks of papers that were mixing together, and an inbox completely full and spilling onto Mic’s desk also bore Mic’s sleeping corpse of a husband. Thirteen, sitting across from Aizawa, looked up at Mic and shrugged in her suit. She had probably watched as his head fell into the mess of paperwork and chewed up pencils, knowing it was no use to try and wake him.
“Yo,” Mic called approaching the bush of hair that covered Aizawa’s face. Aizawa stirred. “Piggyback ride?” Mic asked, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. It certainly wasn’t the first time Thirteen had seen her sleep deprived coworker leave the building on Mic’s back.
Aizawa grunted and finally peeled his face from his desk, catching a piece of paper that stuck to his cheek and fluttered down (from drool maybe?). His gaze softened a minute amount when he saw Mic and he didn’t hesitate to slide off of his seat and onto Mic’s back, looping his arms around Mic’s stereo and hitching his legs around his waist.
Thirteen gave a small wave as the two made their way out of the building and all the way to their apartment.
“Shouta, if you don’t wake up, I’m going to cook dinner again and you’ll hate it like always,” Mic whined, looking over at Aizawa sprawled out on the couch.
Aizawa smiled, Mic was one of the few who could get him to do that, and the one who certainly did it the most. “I don’t hate your cooking, Hizashi.” His voice held a patronizing undertone.
Mic stomped around the kitchen with heavy feet, glaring into the fridge and not being too quiet as he dug around the pots and pans drawer.
Aizawa relented and rose from the couch. He knew Hizashi didn’t mean to, but sometimes he made him feel guilty for trying to catch a quick nap. Of course, Hizashi knew how much he needed it more than anyone else did.
Aizawa approached his dramatic husband from behind, catching his wrists and bringing him close to hug him, resting his tired head on Mic’s shoulder. Mic sighed contentedly.
"Do we still have fish?” Aizawa asked.
“Yup,” Hizashi confirmed.
“Start some rice for me, okay?” Aizawa said, taking control of the dinner burden. It wasn’t always such a struggle. It was so difficult for Aizawa to enter a routine. But he was reminded of how important it was to eat a home cooked meal every time he saw Mic joyously stuff his mouth with Shouta’s bland cooking.
“So,”Mic ventured. “The kids were being… funny… today.”
Aizawa knew what funny, when spoken so hesitantly, meant. Unusual. “My kids specifically?” he wondered, sure that he already knew the answer.
“Huh? Yeah, 1-A.” Mic laughed, seemingly nervous.
Aizawa interrupted him before he could continue. “They ask if you were married?” He was chopping up vegetables to go with the fish.
“Yeah! How did you know!?” Hizashi measured out a cup of rice, trying to steady his hand.
Aizawa looked at him with a look that could singe a hole through the wall. “I was their first subject.”
“Oh my god, Shouta, I feel so bad because I knew it would upset you but I told them I’m married.” He left out the part about the ring. “I didn’t say anything specific! I just probably shouldn’t have said anything at all!”
Aizawa met him with a smile far softer than the reaction Hizashi expected. “It’s okay, because you are married.” Was Hizashi dreaming or did Aizawa look proud or smug in some way?
Hizashi looked at him incredulously. “Shouta did you tell them?!!”
Aizawa snorted, “No. I told them I would give them a pop quiz if they ever asked me another personal question again.”