He Deserves to Know

Chapter Two

"All Might."

Shouta repressed a satisfactory smirk at the way Toshinori nearly jumped out of his skin. He approached the former number one hero at a glacial pace, watching intently as Toshinori turned to face him, gulping audibly.

"Aizawa," he began nervously, shifting his gaze to look anywhere but at his coworker. "What was it you wanted to discuss?"

Shouta nearly scoffed, but just barely held back the action.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied sarcastically. "Maybe the fact that you gave an insanely powerful quirk to a fourteen-year-old kid with no prior experience whatsoever in even using a quirk in general? On the day of the entrance exam, even? Or perhaps it's the fact that you didn't make me, as this kid's homeroom teacher, aware of the situation involving his quirk?"

Toshinori sweatdropped, looking at his feet to avoid the disappointed look that Shouta was most definitely directing at him.

"I'm guessing Young Midoriya told you?" He asked weakly.

"No shit," Shouta deadpanned. "Who else would've told me? In fact, who else even knows?"

"Nedzu," Toshinori mumbled. "Recovery Girl, and Gran Torino. Detective Tsukauchi, as well. Oh, and, um, Young Bakugou."

Shouta was livid. How was it that one of his students was told before he was? And no doubt Midoriya had been the one to tell Bakugou—although Midoriya wasn't who he was upset with. It was this pitiful man before him.

"So," Shouta began, barely containing his anger seeping into his tone. "Why the hell wasn't I made aware sooner?!"

Toshinori visibly shrunk down in his seat. "Um—"

"Save it," Shouta snapped, sufficiently interrupting him. "I'm mainly in charge of Midoriya's education. If you had told me about this earlier, I would've gone about his training differently. Maybe he wouldn't have such an issue with breaking his bones and such, and wouldn't have had to go to other pros about learning control because you don't understand how to properly teach someone quirk control. And that's on you, All Might. Not me, or Midoriya, or anyone else. You."

"I'm sorry," he muttered meekly in response.

"Yeah, you should be." Shouta replied harshly, not giving a damn a niceties. "Unlike you, I'm not an idiot. You trained with the kid for ten months, and you never stopped to consider the kind of discrimination he must've faced for his quirklessness?"

A look of horror crossed over Toshinori's face—brief, but it was definitely there. If Shouta had been worried before, he was terrified now.

"He—he—I didn't—" Toshinori paused, looking panic-stricken. Shouta waited for him to finish with baited breath. "Sometimes he'd show up to Dagobah beach—where we trained—with cuts or—or bruises. He just said he was clumsy and—and I believed him, since he was always tripping over his own feet but—"

Shouta silently seethed at the revelation. It was hardly even a question anymore of whether or not the injuries had come from his peers but—Midoriya's home was one of the very few he never visited. What were his parents like?

"You were the one to get his parents' permission," Shouta pointed out distantly. "Describe his home life to me."

Toshinori blanched. "I know what you're thinking, Aizawa, and—and no. I've met his mother, and I've hardly seen a more caring parent. She'd never harm a hair on his head, believe me."