the whisper of a feeling [Aizawa x Student]

what is a challenge, if not a catalyst in disguise?

"Happy birthday for Saturday! How was your weekend?" A few classmates asked her on the Monday they had returned to school. Miya had thanked them for the birthday wishes, but how could she even begin to answer how her weekend was? 

It had been many things; almost too many to articulate. Tokyo was incredible and getting to spend it with her best friend was like a wish come true. Not to mention her prospective future internship with her favourite hero. 

It killed her that she couldn't say anything about it; not if she would get away with that patrol. 

And then there was Aizawa. Holy lord, he'd plagued her mind for the rest of her trip. That deep, smooth voice that dipped so soft and low when he mentioned her intern outfit; that undone shirt that let her peek at a chiselled torso, as if hand-sculpted by whatever God had put them there (which she knew by touch itself); and of course those plush lips against her own and how the air seemed to crackle with electricity when they'd kissed. Every time anyone asked her 'What did you do?' she had to stop herself from thinking back to that speed dating restaurant. 

It was laughable how Kamato probably thought that was the worst part of her weekend. 

That question plagued her all throughout the day. In morning homeroom, where she'd caught his eyes and her thighs subconsciously pressed together (and she knew he saw it, because those dark eyes she'd been looking at widened impressively. She'd never felt a blush hotter on her cheeks). In her one practical lesson, where she'd almost caught a blow that would have sent her straight to the ground because she wasn't paying attention. And in her all her normal classes, where they were learning things that were probably important. Her friends and classmates thought she was off at lunch because she was thinking about it then too. Also throughout the detention he'd so kindly assigned her --at least Kamato didn't get one. 

As her head hit the pillow Monday night, she was still thinking about it. It was only come Tuesday morning she'd had an answer. 

'I turned eighteen.'

And catching his eyes again that morning, she decided that was the best thing that happened that weekend.

-

Wednesday had been her favourite day for the last two weeks. But this Wednesday she was absolutely buzzing with anticipation. It was difficult to quell enough to participate in lessons, but after Monday, she couldn't really afford to be off with the fairies. At least she would be able to look at her notes later. 

It was also his last day, and that mixed curiously with her excitement.

She was inside Gym Gamma at 4 pm sharp. Early. Miya couldn't help it, she was ready to train. Those jitters in her system needed to die, and the thought of training alone with him did the opposite of kill them. So instead, she opted to kill time and started warming up; her body on autopilot as her mind zoned out. 

"I see you don't need me to get started." A voice -his voice- echoed through the hall. Her breath hitched in her throat when she heard him and her traitorous heart started pounding. 

She spoke before she could think better about what she was thinking of saying. "Maybe not to start, but definitely to finish." It went so quiet you could hear a pin drop before she heard a pointed sigh from his direction. It made her smile with mirth. She'd gotten a lot bolder in these past 3 weeks than she had in the last 3 years.

He walked towards where she was warming up, "I'm not giving you the advantage today, as a hero you need to be able to work under any circums-" Aizawa faltered, now closer to her. "You're wearing your hero costume." He said breathily, as if noticing it for the first time.