Eraser-head's Nightmare

The Nightmare

A long-haired, scruffy, sleep-deprived man walked down the hallways of UA High. He wore all black clothes, save for a long grey scarf wrapped around his neck and shoulders. He carried a yellow sleeping bag over one of his shoulders. In his other hand, he held a small juice box, already drained of its contents. All he really needed was to find the nearest trash can. Failing that, he could store it in his sleeping bag and then clean out the garbage in it before his next nap.

At the heels of this nearly burnt-out man was a short young adult. Unlike the man in front of him, this one had a more vibrant fashion sense. He had a tight-fighting long-sleeved T-shirt, a yellow scarf, matching boots, and a dark purple mask, blending in with his hair, if it could be called that. The growths on his head bore some small resemblance to grapes, save for their unusual size. The most unfortunate thing about his getup, however, were his pants. They were white, and unfortunately brought diapers to the mind.

"Mr. Aizawa, I have a question," the shorter man said.

The black-clothed one, Mr. Aizawa, merely hummed in response. "Go ahead."

"Do you think any of these students' parents are single?" he asked lecherously. Adding unto his unfortunate demeanor and pants, was also his slight lisp.

The pair arrived to the door to class 1-A. Aizawa stopped shortly. "Mineta," he said measuredly, "Do you remember why I hired you as my teaching assistant."

Mineta's face fell, knowing Aizawa, there was a point he was trying to make. "You thought that having someone grade papers and tests for you would let you take more naps?" Mineta offered up hopefully.

"Yes," Aizawa said. Then he looked directly at Mineta. "But why did I hire you to be my aide?"

Mineta, still hoping to salvage what he could bragged "Because you know that there's an amazing brain under these grapes!" Mineta smiled and gave a thumbs up. Aizawa continued to stare harder.

"And?"

Mineta's smile dropped as he rubbed the back of his head. He looked away out of sheepishness and humiliation. "And because you wanted to keep an eye on me to, and I quote, 'to prevent any possible lawsuits that may come against me or this school.'"

"Exactly," Aizawa said with a deceptively low amount of enthusiasm. Mineta turned back to Aizawa, whose hair began to float as his eyes glowed red. "So I expect you to behave yourself fully. No excuses. Understand?"

Mineta gulped and nodded vigorously. Even after learning how sentimental Aizawa was underneath it all, even after earning his own hero-ing license, that stare still sent shivers up his back and pierced his soul.

"Good." 

Aizawa opened the door, and they walked inside. His eyes were closed until he reached his desk, needing all of the rest he could gather. "Alright, class listen up. The school doesn't let me kick students out of the gate anymore, but that doesn't mean that your success is gauren-" he broke off with a gasp as he finally looked at his new class. What he saw was the stuff of his worst dreams.

Sitting in the desks in front of him were twenty students. They all shared the same description; messy green hair, wide, green eyes that took in everything, a small dotting of freckles across the cheeks, and a slightly rounded face.

Amassed in front of Mr. Aizawa, there he was; the number 1 hero in Japan, Deku. Not Deku as the public knew him though. No, this was the Deku from before the public took to him. This was the Deku that Aizawa had come to know. This was his student, Izuku Midoriya. This was his number 1 headache inducing, paperwork generating problem child.

All twenty of him.

"Good morning Mr. Aizawa!" the Dekus chimed in unison.

Aizawa staggered back, mouth hanging agape, quivering slightly. "N-no. . . no, no, no," he said frantically. 

"Mr. Aizawa, is something wrong?" the voice to his side asked in concern. Aizawa dared to glance to his left, where Mineta, his former student, now aide stood. Before his eyes, Mineta started to shift, mass rearranging itself. Mineta's body grew taller, longer, more thematically green. Before he knew it, Mineta had turned into yet another Deku.

"Is there something wrong?" the Mineta-now-Deku repeated, this time using Midoriya's voice.

A sudden rush of determination washed over Aizawa. "Not today. . ." he said to himself in a slightly trembling rasp. "Not today!" He searched around frantically. There had to be an exit somewhere. He needed to find a way out that wasn't being blocked by one of the Izukus. There! He rushed towards the nearest window. The window, he failed to notice, that was still shut.

"Mr. Aizawa, no!" the Midoriya clones cried as the sound of shattering glass accompanied Mr. Aizawa's exit.

***

Mr. Aizawa awoke to the sound of his own screaming. Fully-breathed and loud, it lasted until he had to inhale, which gave him time to look around his surroundings. Bare walls, sparse decorations, used mattress, this was his home. He took a moment to allow his breathing to even out. 

This was a safe place: no green-haired reckless teens to give him headaches. Just as his heart stopped its panicked beating, the door to his room burst open. "What's going on! Where's the intruder!"

Aizawa sighed, he'd forgotten that Present Mic had insisted on sleeping at his house, 'for old time's sake,' he had said.

"No one's here but me, Hizashi. It was just a bad dream."

Present Mic, garbed in footie pajamas with speaker designs on them, pointed down at Aizawa. "A bad dream that had you screaming like the time I made a giant-sized tuna roll with you're capture scarf? I don't think so!"

Aizawa glared. "That was you? I thought one of my students had taken it to spite me!" Aizawa's hair began to rise.

Hizashi, sensing that this was not the direction he wanted to take the conversation, held up his hands. "Now, now Shouta, let's not dwell on the past here." He coughed into his hands. 'Uh, about that dream?"

Aizawa groaned and held his head in his hand. In retrospect, he had had worse nightmares in the past. But still, "It was terrible," he said.

Present Mic sat down cross-legged next to the mattress as his friend recounted the dream. Hizashi was seriously worried about dying laughing by the time Aizawa ended.

"It's not that funny," Aizawa said.

Present Mic only continued laughing. "So, what you're saying is, the amount of paperwork Midoriya had you do was so traumatizing that you still have nightmares about it? Even after all these years?"

Aizawa grumbled without really giving an answer. "It really isn't that funny. You remember how many problems he caused."

Hizashi coughed. He was still trying hard not to laugh; it might actually hurt if he continued. "So? He's not your student anymore. He can't give you any more forms." Hizashi placed a hand on Aizawa's shoulder, and smoothly, soothingly, said "It can't hurt you any more."

Aizawa glared hardly. Hizashi held his hands up. "Alright, alright, I know a tough crowd when I see one. I'll get out of your hair." He got up and walked out the door, just barely managing to suppress any giggles.

With his friend out the door, Aizawa fell back onto his mattress with a groan. In his own annoyingly patronizing way, Hizashi had been right. Deku was far away from high school, being a professional. Still, someone was bound to take up the number one spot after Deku, and Aizawa hoped to God that he was either dead or retired by the time that person reached UA.

He also hoped to God that that dream wasn't a sign of anything.