Aizawa Oneshots and More

Relapse

"could you do an angst one shot where Aizawa is comforting one of his students after they relapse?"

Hello everyone, Strawberry here! This request was sent to me by XxJules_YTxX

This fic contains mentions and scenery of self-harm and scars. It talks about relapsing. If this content makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this chapter.

Remember, you are all loved and cared for. If you ever need to talk to someone, my inbox is open to everyone! I'll listen and talk to you. Even if you think no one cares about you, remember that I do. 

Requests are open!

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The fluorescent lights hum softly overhead as you sit at your desk in Aizawa's classroom, the rhythmic drone of your teacher's voice fading into the background. You have always prided yourself on your ability to focus, to fully immerse yourself in your studies and training as a student at U.A. High School. But lately, you feel as if something has been off. Was it your recent breakup? Or maybe the stressors at home?

Aizawa lectures at the front of the classroom, yet you find your thoughts drifting, your mind wandering to places it shouldn't go. You try to shake off the fog that clouds your thoughts, to force yourself to pay attention, but the harder you try, the more elusive your focus becomes.

Noticing your distraction, the furrow of concern deepens on his brow as he watches you from the front of the room. He knows you well, knows about the dedication and determination that brought you to U.A., but when he sees the shadows that linger behind your eyes, he couldn't help but worry.

"Is there something on your mind, (L/N)?" His voice cuts through your haze of thoughts, pulling you back to the present with a jolt.

Startled by the sudden attention, you blink, and glance up to meet Aizawa's eyes. There's a moment of hesitation, of uncertainty, as you struggle to find the words to express what you were feeling.

"Sorry," you murmur, staring into his eyes with an intensity that makes him raise an eyebrow. "Nothing's on my mind, I'm just tired."

Aizawa's expression softens, his gaze unwavering as he regards you with a mixture of concern and understanding. He knows better than anyone the weight of burdens that weigh heavily on the shoulders of his students, the struggles they face both in and out of the classroom.

"Get some rest when you go home. A tired hero can't function properly." He states, and although his words sound harsh, there's an underlying hint of concern in his voice.

A flush of embarrassment colours your cheeks as his words sink in, his keen perception cutting through your feeble attempt to mask your troubles. Averting your gaze, unable to meet his eyes, you feel exposed and vulnerable under his scrutiny.

"Yes, sir," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make sure to get some rest."

His expression softens a tad further, his concern palpable as he regards you with a gentle gaze. He knows the weight of the expectations placed on young heroes like yourself, the pressure to excel and prove yourselves in a world that demands nothing less than perfection.

"Good," he murmurs, closing his eyes and snapping his textbook shut. The bell rings, signalling the end of the class, and with a lingering sense of shame that clings to you like a shroud, you gather your things and hurry out of the classroom, eager to escape the uncomfortable weight of Aizawa's gaze.

Stepping out of the classroom, you find yourself navigating the bustling halls of U.A. High with a sense of unease gnawing at your insides. The familiar chatter and laughter of your classmates fade into the background as you make your way towards the school gates, your thoughts consumed by the impending confrontation awaiting you at home.