Problem Child

Chapter 1

By 10pm on a cloudy Sunday night, Aizawa Shouta was already on his way home after an uneventful evening patrolling the shadier part of town. He didn’t normally finish patrol this early, but tonight’s date night and he just wants to go home to his husband. They’ve had to cancel the last four and if they have to cancel any more Hizashi will scream so loudly that they’ll be kicked out of yet another apartment building.

They could technically postpone, but tonight is the last night before returning to school, and Shouta needs one last free night before dealing with the stress and paperwork of kicking one kid out of the hero course and transferring another into it in the aftermath of the sports festival.

Shouta is just pulling up Hizashi’s contact to let him know he’s be home soon when his phone starts ringing, display flashing Unknown Number. The only people who know his number are his fellow pro heroes and the students in his homeroom, and Shouta knows for a fact that less than half of his kids actually bothered to copy down his number.

Shouta answers quickly, wanting to get whatever this is over with so he can make it home before the rain hits.

“Eraserhead.”

“S-sensei?”

Of course it’s the problem child.

“Problem child? What is it.” There’s a worrying amount of silence on the other end of the line. It lasts long enough that Shouta stops in his tracks and pulls the phone away from his ear with a frown to check if he’s still connected.

He is.

“Midoriya? Kid, is everything alright?”

“Um I thi- I think I n-need some help.” Midoriya’s voice is thick with tears, tone bordering on fearful. He can’t help the flash of worry he feels at just how wrong his student sounds.

“Where are you right now? Are you at home?” At this point, Shouta is already heading towards his apartment, but there is the chance that something happened while he was out. A villain attack maybe? He is pretty recognizable, especially after the sports festival.

“No.” And there’s silence again. He can’t really go anywhere without a destination, so Shouta stops and focuses on the sound of Midoriya breathing, the only indication he’s still on the line.

“Kid you need to tell me where you are so I can help you.” He doesn’t have to force the sense of urgency in his tone, trying to will the kid to speak.

“I- I’m at a payphone, across f-from the 24hr s-sushi diner.” That’s nowhere near where Midoriya lives. What on earth is he doing there?

“Alright, I know the one. I need you to stay on the line with me Midoriya. Keep talking. I don’t care what it’s about.”

“I c-can’t sensei! There’s n-not enough ti-.” The line cuts out before he can finish, and it has Shouta running faster than he was before. He dials Hizashi as he moves, already feeling guilty about what he’s about to do.

“Shou I swear to god if you are cancelling date night again-” Shouta interrupts him before he can get any further.

“I need your help.” Shouta puts as much urgency as he can into those four words, and clearly it gets through.

“What happened? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you?” God he loves Hizashi. One sentence and he’s ready to drop everything for him.

“No and yes. I’m not the one that’s hurt. Midoriya called and I need you to meet me by the diner on 14th.”

“I’m on my way! Do you know what happened to the little listener? How bad is it?”

“All I know is that he sounded hurt and scared. I’m coming up on his location soon. See you in a bit.”

“Alright. Love you Shou.”

The line goes dead just as he reaches the payphone.

There’s no one there.

Trying not to panic, Shouta checks behind the phone, and finds Midoriya curled up, trying and failing to avoid the rain. His shadow falls over him and the kid flinches, looking up fearfully. His cheek is marred by a dark bruise, dried blood crusting over a shallow cut at the centre of it. There are bruises on his chin and on his lower neck, no doubt continuing below his shirt. More bruises are scattered along his arms, with a set circling a suspiciously swollen right wrist.

Midoriya relaxes when he recognizes him, and Shouta takes that as his cue to move closer and crouches down. He gently places his hand atop the dark curls, and that small actions seems to be Midoriya’s breaking point. His face falls as his eyes well with tears, and he dives into Shouta’s chest, nearly knocking him over.

The kid is trembling, from fear or the cold, Shouta can’t be sure. It’s only know that he registers that all Midoriya is wearing are shorts and a thin t-shirt, already soaked with rain. He pulls him a little closer, trying to provide a little warmth. The sobs subside far too quickly for someone who seems to cry so easily.

“Midoriya, kid what happened? Who did this to you?”

“She was so up-upset that I g-got hurt during the sports f-f-festival. Sh-she was crying, and ask-asking why I f-finally g-got a quirk. She doesn’t w-want me at UA. D-doesn’t w-want me to be a hero! She just w-wouldn’t s-stop crying s-so I freaked out and t-told her the t-truth about my q-quirk!” Aizawa frowns. What does he mean the truth about his quirk?

“Sh-she told me I h-h-had to give it b-back and l-leave the hero course. I t-told her n-no and she got s-so m-mad. Sh-she wouldn’t s-stop h-hurting me and sh-she said that she’s going t-to p-pull me f-from UA!” By this point Midoriya has dissolved back into tears, barely comprehensible, voice muffled by his scarf and stuttering getting worse every second.

He’s brought up some very concerning things regarding his home life. Shouta decides to not dwell on them now, focusing instead on reassuring the problem child.

Shouta moves a hand to Midoriya’s hair, hoping the small action will calm him down.

“Midoriya. It’s going to be okay. Present Mic is on his way so we can get you checked out at the hospital. We’ll get you away from her and we’ll keep you safe now.” At that Midoriya pulls back a little and lifts his head.

“Why is Present Mic coming?” Of course that’s the part he focuses on. Such a problem child.

“Because we’re married.” Blunt and to the point, Shouta decides it’s better to just tell the truth.

“Ha! Todoroki owes me 2,500 yen.” Shouta just rolls his eyes fondly. At least that brought a smile to Midoriya’s face, no matter how small.

Midoriya shivers and tucks himself back under his arms when the rain picks up more, and Shouta has never been more grateful to see Hizashi’s ridiculous bright car reflected in the windows of the shop behind the phone booth. There’s a loud slam and running footsteps before Hizashi is coming around the payphone, face pinched with worry and an old sweatshirt clutched tightly in his hand. Shouta tugs the bright yellow Put Your Hands Up Radio hoodie over Midoriya’s head before scooping him up and starting towards the car.

Hizashi, bless his heart, doesn’t say a word and simply opens the door for Shouta to stick a far too light Midoriya into the back seat before moving to take his own in the front.