Just a normal patrol. (Dadzawa, Bkdk)

Chapter 19

-Aizawa's POV-
I walk up towards the counter and wash away the dishes. I get lost in thought from Hizashi's words. Was I really setting him back? The more that I think about it the closer I get to agreeing with him. However I'll never admit that he's right, or at least to his face. I shut the water off and put the dishes away.
My husband picks up other areas around the house as I walk up the stairs to check on Izuku. I knock on the door. I hear a faint, 'Come in!' I enter the room and he looks exhausted. I walk up to the small desk-table he's working at. I look down at the work.

"Kid, this isn't due for, like, three weeks. And this is extra credit. Your grades are fine, you're in the top five of the class!" He looks up at me. His eyes are bloodshot and bags have made themselves cozy and comfortable on his face. His eyes look as if he's carrying weights on them. His mouth and eyelids droop down in a relaxed, yet stressed manner.

"I know, but I have time right now!" I give him a look as my mouth forms a line. My brows furrow.

"Kid, you look exhausted. You didn't go back to sleep last night, God knows how long you were up in total!" He mumbles something under his breath. He didn't seem to be giving me attitude, he seemed to be saying something that he was shy about.

"What? What did you say?" Instead of hovering over him, I sit on the bed next to him. He turns so he can face me.

"I said that I woke up at one." So, how long was he under that desk for, then? He raises one knee and his head rests upon it.

"How long were you under that desk, then? If you felt a flashback coming why didn't you come tell us? Why don't you get some sleep? Why haven't you taken a nap or something? Why ca-" I'm cut off by him sniffling. He wipes a tear from his face. I only then realized that I've been questioning him in a way that directed the blame onto him.

"Kid, I didn't mean it to be like that. I wasn't trying to blame you or anything." He quickly wipes off the tears that run down his cheeks. He curses under his breath. He forces the palms of his hands into his eyes until the tears halt. When he takes them off he does a quick double blink and search around the room.

"I-it's fine. I'm just b-being dramatic." His voice grows quiet.

"Kid, I'm sorry. You're not being dramatic. I should've phrased the questions differently. I don't think it's your fault about last night. I'm just saying that you look tired, you should get some sleep." He nods and packs up his books. It is only then I realize that he has virtually nothing. He has three shirts, two pairs of pants, whatever is in his backpack, and two copies of his uniform.

"Kid, do.. do you need anything? Clothing, books, a charger?" He shakes his head and my gut tells me he's lying. My instinct is only validated by the lack of eye contact and him bouncing his leg up and down whilst fidgeting with his hands.

"Alright, you need something. What is it?" He looks back down.

"Kid, what is it?" My voice approaches the topic carefully.

"I-I don't need anything, sir." My eyes widen while I hold back a chuckle. I bust a rib cackling over his latest name for us. He chuckles as well once he's realized what he said.

"I'm sorry, but, 'sir'? Damn, didn't think you'd come up with another name besides our actual names. But, seriously, I can tell you need something." He shakes his head once more. My eyes grow gentler.

"Kid, it's clear that you need something. What is it? No one will get mad, we've got plenty of money. What is it?" He shakes his head again.

"Do you need clothes? You don't have that many." He looks down and hesitates before shaking his head. I stuck a nerve. I realize he needs clothes.