Painful {Aizawa/Izuku Platonic story}

(Special: "Glimpse into the future")

[DISCLAIMER]

This short special won't have anything to do with the main story. It's just a short little Drabble to thank all of you for 8k! Seriously guys, I'm so happy!

This takes place nine years into the future, where Izuku now attends Yuuei High School.
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"Rough time at Yuuei, huh?"

"Dad.."

Shouta gave a hearty laugh of amusement at the sight of a downright exhausted, fifteen year old Izuku.

He had scuff marks on his cheek, a gauze wrapped over his left arm, and from what Shouta had seen- he was limping on his right leg. What was also to be noted was the playful pout on the child's face at his father's teasing, a blue gym bag in his uninjured hand idly hanging off his wrist.

His green hair was tussled to a messier degree, as if he got blasted by one of Inasa's strong wind streams- but his eyes still held the shining giddiness, probably discovering a new quirk from his fellow classmates.

Aizawa smirked at that thought, putting down the pan and switching it off in one swift movement before turning to see that Izuku had already collapsed on his dinner table. He had an amused look on his face when Izuku gave a tired groan, his face smushed against the mahogany surface, arms spread out to take up most of the table.

Shouta clicked his tongue, his hand messing into Izuku's green, curly, soft hair despite the whiny protests from the teen. "How'd you do? Heard from Cementoss you sparred against a boy with a fire quirk."

It was small talk, really, while Aizawa's food simmered down on the stove, ready to accommodate Izuku's hungry needs. It was his third week in U.A. Highschool, taking up the Hero course (to no one's surprise).

Shouta has not given up teaching just yet, despite being at the ripe old age of thirty-nine, and even he notes the ever growing back pains that constantly weigh him down. He was still the Hero Course's first year homeroom teacher, of course, much to Izuku's distaste. Aizawa couldn't blame him- he, was of course, one of the strictest and most grueling teachers out there. Izuku learned that the hard way when training with him as a kid.

His movements have gotten slightly slow, but he could still easily take down about the whole class- and the fond memory of class 1-A Hero Course from nine years ago still swims around his mind, popping out sometimes to remind him how much his past class had grown- particularly Bakugou Katsuki, the now mellowed out, twenty-four year old man had become the number three Hero. Not necessarily the symbol of peace, but.. He is still high up in the ranks.

(Aizawa predicts that Izuku WILL beat him someday, after the boy graduates. He may be a bit biased but Hisashi agrees with the sentiment. Just wait, Bakugou.)

A lot has changed, in the past nine years.

Aizawa had longer, clean cut hair, now usually seen wrapped in a bun or simply hanging out. His edginess has mellowed out as well- smiling a whole lot more, and not being as cruel as he was to the children back then. Even his expelling rates had dropped within the years- some first-years still making it possible. His sadism streak has dramatically dropped too, no longer taking enjoyment to cutting one or two starry-eyed children from class, instead he felt disheartened and sorry for them when they leave out U.A.'s gates to never be seen ever again.

It was all thanks to Midoriya Izuku- or should I say, Aizawa Izuku?

The boy.. He has changed a lot.

He had grown taller, for one. Not as tall as Aizawa, neither tall enough to surpass the normal growth height of kids his age, but it was still a decent few feet. His eyes still had the bright round eyes, lashes long and fluttery. His freckles had faded a slight bit too, but it was still visible, adding to the youthful impression he leaves on people. His hair was the same- but somehow greener, bushier, and softer than he was a kid, thanks to Aizawa's extra care. His body was toned too, defined muscles replacing the beanpole like arms when he was a kid from all the training he had undergone.

Izuku's personality hadn't changed, always the cheery boy in class- but he still had the cold, calculating attitude during battle, which most likely intimidates classmates while they spar. He was exceptional at observation, jotting down everything he sees on a notebook, or any writeable surface he gets his hands on.

He had grown out of past scars, shedding it off like an old shell, but still keeping the dark memories at the back of his mind to remind himself where he came from as he put on a burning, brave, determined grin as he stood in the face of danger.

———

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."