When the Heart is Ash (I'll Savor Your Warmth)

Something Unexpected

Aizawa likes being a teacher.

He doesn't like the mess that kids make without even realizing it. He doesn't enjoy when Kaminari loses another pencil in class and interrupts the entire lecture. He doesn't like when Ashido and Sero try sharing exam answers. He despises when Iida and Midoriya get into debates about heroism when it's Aizawa's time to talk.

More, he likes having a responsibility to handle. That he's able to handle. He likes looking out at the cafeteria at lunch and seeing his students all okay, uninjured and eating and being kids.

He likes grading papers, even if he has to read both Midoriya's and Yaoyorozu's essays, which always go over the character limit he sets for them specifically. And even if the next day, when asked about his essay, Kaminari and Aoyama both have the same story that one of Kouda's imaginary dogs ate it.

He likes to test his students. He questions their morals and beliefs about the society they'll one day contribute to. He tests their physical prowess and their will to do things. Adaptability, intelligence, critical thinking, reaction times. He loves making sure they're gonna be okay when they one day leave him.

His caring extends beyond physicalities, though.

Aizawa made a list, just four months into the year. He typed out each of his students' names, printed the paper and taped it to the inside of his binder. After that, he announced that he would be open to talking with his students, since he could relate to what they go through. There was no shame in needing to vent.

He added a line each time a student came. Just so he could keep track. If a parent asked, or if a student wondered. If Aizawa thought that maybe, a student who visits a lot might need more help than he can give.

The sheet filled, multicolored pen marks on each name, the more talkative students in class came more often, the quieter ones had more to talk about. Even if in the meetings, it was just a few words, a cup of tea, and a nice setting in his dorm office, the students seemed to appreciate it just about as much as Aizawa did.

More shit went down, exams, a kidnapping, a retrieval, threats to the school, bullying.

The fall of the number one hero.

That one had his schedule busy with meetings for his kids.

He never minded it.

One name was never filled, as worrying as it is, it's not like he can force him to come and talk.

Aizawa doesn't need to, not with the boy standing in his open doorway after curfew, phone gripped tightly in his hand and bangs hanging to hide his face.

"Todoroki?"

Todoroki's knuckles turn white as he gives a brief squeeze to his electronic. "I... need a second opinion on something."

Aizawa had a moment of relief when he saw Todoroki. But the kid probably just needs help with homework.

"Why the middle of the night?"

Todoroki crosses his arms, looking to the side. "I can leave if you're implying you want me gone."

Aizawa sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine, come in."

Todoroki steps into the office, sitting down in an offered chair. Aizawa clears his desk, moving a pile of worksheets and a cup of pens to make room for his arms.

"It's my father," Todoroki starts without any prompting. "He keeps contacting me and I need to know what he wants."

Aizawa tilts his head, "'Contacting' you? You mean texting you?"