The weight of the world pressed down on Aizawa's shoulders as he stood at the front of the classroom, his tired eyes scanning the faces of his students. The room was silent, the kind of silence that was heavy and oppressive. He could see the shadows under their eyes, the way their shoulders slumped, the way their hands trembled ever so slightly.
They were just kids. Kids who had been through too much at such a young age, lost too much of their innocence that they had at the beginning of the year. And now, he had to tell them that it wasn't over. That it was only going to get worse.
He took a deep breath, the scent of clay and concrete filled his lungs, the smell was from the recently built building. The classroom felt smaller now. He was starting to hate this teaching job. But the world was what it was, and all they could do was try to survive it.
"As you all know," he began, "some students have decided to leave. One from out class."
The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. He saw the way some of them glanced at Mineta's empty seat, the way their expressions flickered with something that wasn't quite sadness but it wasn't relief either. Mineta had been... difficult. A nuisance, some might say. But he was still one of them. Still a part of the class. And now he was gone.
Aizawa continued, his voice carrying a weight that made the room feel even smaller. "There's more. Because of the loss of life and the number of students who have asked for a resignation from UA, the only courses left in this school are the support course and obviously, the hero course."
Midoriya's eyebrows lifted in surprise, his green eyes widening as he processed the information. Aizawa could see the way his mind was working, the way he was already trying to piece together the implications.
"This is a hero school," Aizawa said. "One that had been targeted over and over again. And no matter what we do, it may happen again."
The words felt like a punch to the gut, the weight of them settling over the room like a shroud. He could see the way some of them flinched, the way their hands clenched into fists, the way their eyes darkened with fear and determination. They were scared. Of course they were scared. But they were still here. Still fighting. Still trying.
"But those of you here decided to stick through," Aizawa said, his voice softening ever so slightly. "Brave. But that isn't all that will be needed for what we are all about to face. We are most certainly not out of the mud yet."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the room, taking in the way they sat a little straighter, their eyes a little sharper. They were listening. They were ready. But they didn't know what was coming. Not really.
"We've received information," he started again. "that the League of Villains is planning a major attack on Hero's Eve. And they won't be alone. They'll be working alongside the remnants of Destro's Liberation Army."
The room erupted into mutters, the silence shattered by the sound of their voices, low and anxious. Aizawa could see the way their eyes widened, the way their hands trembled, the way their breaths quickened. They were scared. Of course they were scared. But they were still here. Still fighting. Still trying.
"Wait," Kaminari said, his voice was shaky, "Destro's Liberation Army? I thought they were gone."
"They were," Yaoyorozu said, her voice was calm but firm. "But remnants of their ideology and their forces have persisted. They've probably just been waiting for a moment to strike."
Aizawa nodded, his expression was grim. "Exactly. This isn't just an attack. Its a war. And we're on the front lines."
The room fell silent again, the weight of his words settling over them like a storm cloud. He could see the way their faces paled, the way their hands clenched into their fists, the way their eyes darkened with fear and determination.
"What do we have to do?" Yaoyorozu asked, her voice steady but laced with desperation.
Aizawa hesitated, his chest tightening as he looked at her. She was too young. They all were. Too young to be carrying this kind of weight. But he didn't have a choice. They didn't have a choice.
"Hero students from the top two schools in the country will be asked to fight," he said. "Your main objective will be to evacuate civilians. But the chance of you getting into a fight with dangerous villains are high... about 70%. But the choice to be there is yours."
He would make sure to at least give them that.
"Why is this event still happening?" Iida asked, his voice was demanding. "If we know there's going to be an attack, why not cancel it?"
Aizawa's jaw tightened, his chest aching as he looked at Iida. He didn't know why completely, he thinks it could be the governments corruption, but he can't tell them speculations.
"The school and I haven't been given the full details," he said, "But government officials want the event to go forward. It's possible they believe that it's important to show the heroes and the right side of the country are still strong."
The words felt hollow, even to him.
"Hero training will take place every day," he continued, his voice firm but not unkind. "You'll be training with class B regularly so you can get used to working in teams and changing tactics. Everyone will also be testing unique communication devices."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the room.
"This is the final chance for those who want to leave to do so," he said. "If you want out, now is the time."
The room was silent.
After a solid minute with no moving, Aizawa nodded, his chest tightening with something that felt like pride. "Alright. Head to the gyms for training with Snipe."
As they filed out of the room, Aizawa's gaze lingered on Bakugou, who was still sitting by the window. "Bakugou," he called out. "Visit Nezu before you head to training."
Bakugou nodded, his expression unreadable, but he didn't turn to look at Aizawa. He just stood and followed the others out of the room, his movements were stiff and deliberate.
When the door shut and Aizawa was left alone in the classroom, he felt the weight of everything pressing down on him, crushing him, suffocating him. His rigid body started to stutter, his hands trembling as he put away some files, his movements slow and deliberate.
He felt like breaking down, like screaming, like crying. Everything felt like it was piling up on him, the weight of it all too much to bear.
So he just stood there. He was a hero. Heroes were left with broken hearts, battered and bruised bodies and even endless trauma, yet all they can do is continue to keep moving forward. Like real heroes.
That was all any of them could do. Keep fighting. Keep trying. Even though the world is falling apart. Even when his chest was caving in and his head felt so foggy with only negative thoughts that wanted to consume him.
He would endure, because he is a hero.
***
The principals office, was a place Bakugou had never liked, whether that was before the school had to be rebuilt or even in his old school. It was too quiet, to plain and expectant, too... off. The walls were lined with bookshelves, their contents meticulously organized, each spine perfectly aligned.
The desk was a polished slab of dark wood, its surface was gleaming under the fluorescent lights. There was a cup of tea on the desk, still hot, the faint smell wafted through the room.
And then there was Nezu.
The principal sat behind his desk, his small frame dwarfed by the massive chair he occupied. His beady eyes gleamed with an unsettling intelligence, his gaze sharp and unyielding as it fixed on Bakugou.
There was something about the principals eyes that made Bakugou feel like he was being dissected, like Nezu could see every crack, every flaw, every weakness... Like he was ripping him out of his garments, just like they had done. It made him want to scream at the little animal, to do something to break the oppressive silence that hung in the air.
But he didn't. He just stood there, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw was tight and his eyes narrowed. He didn't like this. Didn't like the way the principal was looking at him, didn't like the feeling of the room.
"Bakugou," Nezu said finally. "I've placed you in a slot to meet with Hound Dog. He's our school counselor, and I believe it would be beneficial for you to speak with him."
Bakugou's eyes narrowed, his chest tightening with anger. "The hell I need a therapist for?" he snapped, his voice sharp and biting. "I'm fine. I don't need some quack poking around my head."
Nezu's expression didn't change, his gaze steady and unyielding. "This isn't a suggestion, Bakugou. Its a requirement. Your mother sent an extensive email to the school detailing her concerns. She wants the best for you, and she's made it clear that she expects us to provide it."
Bakugou's breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening with something that felt like disappointment. His mother. Of course it was his mother. But he doesn't feel this came from a place of genuine concern or care, she just wanted him to to be perfect in her vision, she demanded excellence.
A traumatized kid that is still technically under her roof and jurisdiction has to be as perfect as can be.
She didn't trust him to get better on his own.
He clenched his fists tighter, his nails digging into his palms. "I don't need this," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't need her sticking her nose in my business."
Nezu's gaze softened ever so slightly, his tone gentle but firm. "Bakugou, what you've been through... it's not something anyone, especially one as young as yourself, should ever have to go through. And since we failed to prevent it, we will make sure you don't have to go through the aftermath on your own." He stopped, the words were very sympathetic, but for some reason Bakugou just couldn't hear it in the little animals tone.
He could see it in the gazes of his classmates, he could hear it in their whispers. But from the living being in front of him, it sounded more like he was struggling to do so.
"Your mother is worried about you. And so are we. This isn't a punishment. Its an opportunity. A chance for you to process everything that has happened, to find a way to move forward."
Bakugou didn't react. He just stood there, his chest heaving, his mind racing. He didn't want this. Didn't want to sit in some stuffy room and spill his guts to some stranger. Didn't want to admit that... that he wasn't as fine as he was pretending to be.
But he didn't have a choice.
"Fine," he said finally, his voice low and grudging. "I'll do it. But don't expect me to magically get better. That'll only happen when the League are all dead."
Nezu nodded. He wore a light smile, a smile that seemed like he was happy that some menial task was just done. "That's great."
The room fell silent again, the weight of the conversation settling over them like a shroud. Bakugou could feel Nezu's eyes on him, sharp and unyielding, and it made his skin crawl. He wanted to leave, to get out of this suffocating room, to put as much distance between himself and Nezu as possible.
But before he could move, Nezu spoke again. "Bakugou, I want to apologize. For not being able to find you sooner. For not being able to protect you. What happened... it should have never been. And I'm sorry."
Bakugou's chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat. This was probably the most sincere the principal was. But he didn't know what to say. The apology just felt... pointless. Like it was too little too late. It didn't change anything.
"Whatever," he muttered finally, his voice low and dismissive. "Can I go now?"
Nezu nodded, "Of course. You're expected at training with Snipe. Don't be late."
He walked out of the room, his movements stiff and deliberate. The door shut behind him with a soft click, and he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding
The hallway was quiet, the air cool and crisp against his skin. He could hear the faint hum of the school, the distant chatter of the few classes still within the school, the birds chirping outside and more, but it all felt so far away, like it was happening in another world.