Haunting

Chapter Thirteen: The Struggle

Aizawa couldn't stop staring at the corner of his classroom where a transparent figure floated, eyes drawn to the space like magnets to an electric current. It was a car wreck he couldn't stop staring at.

He felt helpless. Frustrated. Sick to his stomach.

Midoriya, he thought to himself faintly as he watched the boy sob in relief, looked more damaged than he'd imagined, although his appearance was vaguely familiar for a reason he couldn't recall. His arms looked like a twisted wreck, wrist mangled. Blood escaped his mouth and nose and mixed with his tears, soaking his clothes as he cried his small heart out, and Aizawa mourned the boy, not for the first time. He mourned the loss of this young soul, taking a minute to catch his breath from the horrific sight as he grit his teeth so tightly he thought he heard them creak.

He expected his newfound - almost unwanted - ability to fade or disappear suddenly one day. Aizawa hoped, but that day never came. Midoriya was always present in the classroom, a constant.

As - happy...? - as Aizawa was for having his curiosity sated, he didn't want the sight of Midoriya rubbed in his face either. It was hard. The poor kid struggled with every rattling inhale, his wide eyes lacking the natural shine of life as Midoriya scanned his surroundings with an off-kilter clarity. His broken body had to compromise with the movements he wanted to make, and with every struggle Midoriya had to suffer through Aizawa's heart would squeeze in sympathy.

He tried to focus his attention on training the students - for the Sports Festival and in general. He threw himself into the work, trying to drown out the feelings of helplessness and regret into hope for the future, the future resting on the backs of these up and coming heroes. Aizawa did the best he could, but Midoriya's transparent form hovered in his peripheral, damning evidence that it wasn't possible to save everyone. Suddenly the Sports Festival - once grand and luxurious and such a crucial part of U.A's routine - felt so...small. So minor next to a small child's suffering, his life stolen with his tragedy carved into his flesh.

Midoriya, very clearly, was not having the same issue. He was thriving off of the new attention, floating around the classroom and giggling as Aizawa's gaze tracked his progress. He flung signs Aizawa's way, cheerful and expressive, and he wondered if Midoriya had been deaf in his life before. Aizawa vowed to learn sign, at least the basics, but that was hard to achieve with everything on his plate. He saved the project for later.

He was struggling to focus on teaching. Midoriya liked to tease the students - batting at hair, tugging clothes or poking skin - and he especially seemed to tease Bakugo and his group of friends, along with Todoroki. When he wasn't teasing them, he was checking on everyone else, or hovering over Bakugo's shoulder looking as content as he was probably going to get. The kid was a major distraction, less to the students and more to himself, but Aizawa knew he would never demand the kid to stop. He was only having fun, but that meant the distraction never went away, and Aizawa was sure this wasn't something he would get used to - at least not quickly.

He was even struggling with staff meetings. Midoriya grew peculiarly quiet during those times, staying close to himself or Nedzu, but he was still expressive. Oftentimes Midoriya signed careful words directed at Nedzu - confirming the principal could see the kid - as he struggled to make his broken wrist cooperate with him. Aizawa couldn't tear his eyes away.

He was caught by Nedzu. Really, it had only been a matter of time. He was asked to stay behind, and the fluffy principal calmly crossed his paws on the desk and asked him outright if he could see Midoriya. Aizawa didn't hide it, openly stating that yes, he could, and he wasn't sure why. Nedzu pointed out his near death experience at the USJ - his own brush with death - and theorized it probably had something to do with that. All the while Midoriya hovered, curious, his gaze flickering between the two as they conversed.

Aizawa resigned himself to the fact that this wouldn't go away, so he tried to make the most of it. He placed the EMF on his desk and clicked it on. He had all of Midoriya's focus then.

Why don't we give you something to do, Aizawa suggested, monotone. Would you want to help me?

Midoriya beamed, body blurring with rampant energy, and Aizawa watched in fascination as it caused the window panes to rattle. Huh, so that's what he was doing.

He gestured to the EMF, and Aizawa obligingly recorded. Midoriya's warped speech bounced off the walls and reverberated for a moment, his mouth blurring, then he stopped, eyes wide and focused on him with the biggest grin on his face.

" Ỳęs͜! "

The next day in class was a strange one, well, for the students. Aizawa was admittedly enjoying himself.

He recruited Midoriya to help him throughout class time. The kid would float around the room, careful and attentive, and if a student seemed like they were struggling and hadn't spoken up yet, Midoriya would point to that student so Aizawa could take care of it. He was also recruited to keep an eye out for cheaters, and Aizawa knew to the students it seemed like their teacher was omnipresent. Their stunned and alarmed expressions when Aizawa commented on an aspect of their work he couldn't have possibly known about, or caught them cheating in a way he normally wouldn't have was absolutely priceless, and it served to brighten his mood greatly.

His job was to keep them on their toes, after all, and this just so happened to be a fantastic way of doing such.

After their little agreement was implemented, Aizawa found his focus on Midoriya to be much less of a problem. Instead of spending his time hovering and playing harmless pranks, he was contributing to the classroom, and now when Aizawa focused on him it felt like less of a distraction and more of a necessity, which allowed his attention to bounce around instead of settling in one place.

Not that it didn't happen at all, it just felt...more justified, Aizawa supposed.

With his attention sharpened, he was able to take a deep breath and focus on what mattered now - the Sports Festival.

It was true that heroes couldn't save everyone, but Aizawa could make sure the next generation were as prepared as they could be. If he had to put blood, sweat and tears into making sure there were as little casualties like Midoriya as possible, in both the present and future, Aizawa was only happy to oblige.

Maybe Midoriya would want to help as well...He'd have to ask.

AN: IM SO SORRY, IM SO BAD AT KEEPING UP WITH POSTING BUT I HAVE SEVERAL SAVED UP CHAPTERS SO PLEASE ENJOY NVHJBDS