Calling

Week 3.5: Aizawa [Epilogue]

It had been over four days since Aizawa had returned to his classes. Nezu and forced him to stay home after seeing Midoriya's death. Especially so since Aizawa had lost Oboro in a past villain attack as well. 

The underground hero was miffed at being forced to go on a mental health break, but he knew that before he delivered the news to the class, he had to calm down first. And he couldn't bear to wait any longer to tell the students--honestly he would have preferred to tell them the day after the mission, but Nezu had vetoed. 

Slowly, in a daze, Aizawa woke up, got dressed, and made his way into school. His gaze was blank, eyebags ever so prominent, and heart acting along with his exhausted body. It seemed that every time he tried to sleep, his vision would be haunted by the bodies of Oboro and Midoriya lying dead while Koga laughed maniacally. 

The homeroom teacher didn't even notice he got to school two hours late, his body having wandered through his neighborhood and to UA like a lost ghost. 

He blinked, stopping when he noticed the familiar abnormally large door before him. He let out a soft sigh, as if to soothe his stressed lungs--honestly, it hurt to breathe. His left hand came up to massage his nose and eyes. Usually he wouldn't care for appearances, but now he felt self-conscious. 

Afterall, he had to give the children the news of their friend's torture and passing--the same friends who called Midoriya everyday to try and find out if he was okay, if he was happy, if he was coming back. If he was alive. 

Aizawa knocked on the door twice with his knuckles, alerting the occupants with his arrival before pushing the doors open. 

The chatter in the room immediately died down, all eyes focusing on the homeroom teacher as he forced his legs to bypass his podium and to his desk. 

The substitute teacher, Midnight, didn't know what to do--whether to stay or leave–so she opted to walk to the back of the room and stand. That way she could be there if needed. 

Her brilliant eyes observed the tense, hopeful class as they watched their wilted teacher. 

She frowned, knowing this conversation would be hard. Afterall, Oboro's death had been insanely challenging to hear of as well. 

"Mr…Mr. Aizawa–?" A feeble, hopefully voice spoke up. Uraraka's voice cracked under the pressure of her anxiety. 

Hand shaking, Iida raised his arm into the air. His eyebrows were furrowed, and arm bent. Dark smudges under his eyes showed how horrible his sleep patterns were becoming and his decreasing stature showcased his lack of self-maintenance. He hadn't been eating nearly enough as a teen should.  His arm  was shaking, and his breathing was slightly irregular as he attempted to remain hopeful. But a looming presence of foreboding made the air thick. 

Sato began to breath harder, his lungs feeling as if they were caving in under the pressure of an unknown entity. 

Aizawa opened his mouth, finally having swallowed the bile clogging his throat and tears burning as they attempted to escape his strong facade. His cheeks were red with unshed sadness, as he had yet to let out his sadness fully. He feared showing weakness, he feared losing another kid. And with the remaining nineteen before him, he cursed himself for not expelling Midoriya sooner. 

Because maybe then, the teen would have survived. 

Maybe then, the teen would have not been outed as All Might's successor before he was strong enough. 

As he began to talk, the class's bubbling nervousness erupted into minor hysteria. 

Suddenly Kaminari jumped from his seat, one arm in the air, tugging slightly at his hair in an attempt to ground himself. His eyes were blown wide as he forced a sad laughter from his lips. "He's in the infirmary! He just wanted more time with his bed--with his VIP infirmary bed! You know--the…" Kaminari gulped, throat clogging. "--the one he got dedicated to him after the fifth arm injury he got--ya know the one with the big scar on his--on his--his arm. And--and he just--he just wanted to…" A sob broke through Kaminari's lips, and as if he had been punched in the gut, he slumped forward, losing his posture. "He has to have made it." He whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. 

"OF COURSE HE'S ALIVE. DEKU WOULDN'T JUST DIE! DUMB DEKU COULDN'T ABANDON HIS IDIOTIC FREAKING DREAM JUST TO--DEKU'S TOO STUBORN TO DIE WITHOUT BEING A FLIPPING HERO–" Bakugo stood, slamming his hand on his desk, letting off a small explosion in his fit of anger. 

Tsu let out a sob, curling into herself. She had picked up her feet and put them on her seat, wrapping her arms around her knees and laying her head down. Her ears felt as if they were bleeding from the amount of noise ringing through the classroom. 

"Guys–" Momo hoarsely tried to turn the class's attention back to Aizawa, who was not faring too well at trying not to let a tear slip. 

"--NO! NO!" Bakugo turned to her, pointing his finger at the raven-haired girl. "DEKU WOULDN'T JUST DIE–" 

Mina and Shoji stood in an attempt to make their way towards the red faced Bakugo, arms up to show they weren't going to touch him--Bakugo hated physical affection or calming touches. 

"Bakugo…" Mina began, dropping the nickname she used to pester the blonde. "Hey, Mr. Aizawa hasn't finished speaking–" 

Bakugo snarled at her as she approached, small, angry blasts coming from his fingers and palms. 

Midnight has slowly started making her way to the teen as well, though the backpacks and wild limbs of hysterical, mourning children were blocking her slightly. 

"NO, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! DEKU WOULDN'T–DEKU COULDN'T– DEKU…Deku…" He finished, voice cracking as he slumped backwards. Quirk and emotional exhaustion took over. His eyes were burning, throat clogging up, forcing his words to stop. Shoji caught the teen in a sort of hug before he fell backwards from shear sadness. Bakugo's hands clutched at his face as the dam of his emotions finally cracked. His deep, gut sobs rocked his whole body, and yet he wouldn't listen to Mina, Shoji and Midnight's soothing voices trying to calm him down. 

The class was stunned, watching their strongest weep, being only held up by Shoji's arms. 

Todoroki turned his soft gaze from Bakugo to Aizawa. His chest felt heavy, and yet tears refused to exit. He watched as Aizawa's half lidded eyes took everything in with a deep rooted sadness that only a death could force upon a human. 

"Midoriya is dead." He whispered, the revelation hitting him hard. His voice was steady, albeit wobbly. 

Uraraka could be heard sniffing from her seat.

"Don't you dare say that so flatly–" Jiro harshly whispered at Todoroki from her spot next to Kirishima. Kaminari had latched onto the redhead and turned to crying on his shoulder, Jiro rubbing his back to calm the hiccuping teen down. 

She looked to the loudly sobbing Bakugo, and then to an equally teary-eyed Koda. She signaled him over, and he came forward. She pulled the taller teen forward and into a comforting hug. 

Todoroki didn't register the accusation, mind having already shut down in an attempt to handle the revelation of Midoriya--the only person to help him understand his quirk--dying. 

"Mr. Aizawa--it can't be true, can it?" Iida questioned, voice cracking and posing as he forced the words from his throat. His eyes were wide, his face a mixture of sorrow and hopeful. 

Aizawa watched as the famous Class 1A broke down in front of his very own eyes. Such strong individuals were now emotional skeletons of what they once were. 

He cleared his throat softly, attempting to once again get rid of the bile blocking his airways. After Iida's question, the side arguing and chatter died down. Aizawa turned his gaze to his desk, unable to look his remaining nineteen students in the eyes. 

"Izuku Midoriya's funeral will be held on UA grounds in a week's time." He took in a shaky inhale, hearing as more sobs broke through. "Hound Dog, among other therapist-esque individuals, will be coming in for the next few weeks to help you all cope. I will–" His voice went out, so he cleared his throat. "I will be…unable to retell the details, but if you all are interested, Nezu will be willing to give minimal information about the case. The killer is in custody, and in jail under strict supervision….Your parents have been notified of the recent events and have agreed to be on standby for the next week, so you can mourn under their comfort as you wish."

Tears began falling from Aizawa's face. He turned his chair to angle away from the sobbing class, his heart unable to handle watching others mourn their classmate while he mourns the death of a student he saw a bit of himself in.