Ine'j

In. And out.

Being many isn't more enjoyable than being alone.

Couples, groups, mourning doves, therapists, they have it all wrong. If you are alone to start with, then there's no loss you can suffer through.

In. And out.

When you are alone, the things you need to face aren't easier. This is a lie as well, misconception, misjudgement many make. If you're alone, there's no less you'll have to go through.

Being alone is simply more natural, inevitable, that's all there is to the state of being. Being alone, being surrounded, it does not matter ultimately. It doesn't. It's all the same. The crack of a spine, the fast snap of a mandible, it'd all be the same. If it was slow, too. If-

In. And out.

If it was slower maybe they'd feel it too. The pain, the anguish, the anger. Loneliness doesn't matter but it would be so easy, sharing the pain, would have been so enjoyable. It wouldn't be relief but it would sure taste like it on her tongue.

In. And out.

It'd taste better than the tears.

Then they'd feel the helplessness. Her helplessness. The sheer uselessness of her actions. They did feel a taste of it, a small fraction of it only. A small fraction of them only. It wasn't enough, wasn't nearly a drop of the despair raging, storming through her.

Seeing them stuck, seeing them crying without realising why or what had happened, it could taste like penance.

In. And out.

Retribution could be the slow trickling of blood, the ever slower penetration of tears of glass. Of the jagged borders being laid to rest below skin-

Of digging in further, of the blood, the blood, the blood. The screams. It isn't relief, but it's something that could taste like it.

In. And out.

It wouldn't be enough. The agony of all those standing proud in that room, in between the three walls and singular panel of reinforced glass, it might be, but it still would be too few.

It would be...

In. And out.

It would be useless. In the end, it wouldn't do anything. In the end, all she could do wouldn't be enough to bring an end to the pain, to the storm. The actions wouldn't matter. They didn't.

In. And out.

This one can.

In. And out.

It's easy, the repetitive motion of a chest.

In. And out.

The peace it could bring almost is too. Outside her lungs the air turns to the wind and quickens, flutter against the leaves and the gravel. It would be easy for it to turn into storm or tempest, but it doesn't.

In. And out.

But there is no place for peace yet. Maybe not ever, but at least not quite yet.

In. And out.

At least, not when he still isn't breathing on his own. Not when he still is being torn closed, when everything of him is protesting against the intrusion of scalpel and antibiotics.

In. And out.

It isn't easy, being what they are, the woman that wasn't them had said. She's right. She was right. It isn't. It comes so much easier, the wrath, the anger.

In. And out.

It's harder to reach, that almost-but-not-quite peace.

In. And out.

But this is as close as she can get. So she'll keep going.

In. And out.

The wind flutters softly against her eyelashes.

In. And out.

The wood's splintered below, but it's as gentle on her skin as the sound of the leaves around.

In. And out.

Kaana! she's my favourite oc out of all of them, i love her sm

Ekhos, only creature I'll probably ever draw because they're SO HARD to do 💔

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"It’s a bit dumb, how focused he is on whether he wants to cry or not. He didn’t come her to cry. He didn’t go there to think about the moon either. He came here to… Well. It’s a good question. He was just tired of lying around and he wanted to go there, and that’s probably it.

So. In the silence of the night, he goes and walk through his living room. Avoids rug and table and anything else that’s laying on the floor. His toys and cars and books aren’t there, and that makes it easier. It’s really not difficult to hop around something when it’s not there.

He walks through the corridor. It passes quickly. It passes quickly but in a way that’s not only because that’s a small corridor."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

Or: Duke has found a place in the Wayne's family.

"Yeah, wait, let me just-" The scrambling around his bag doesn't take too long to be successful. "There", he goes.

Mogari pretty much snatches his pencil away. That gets frustration to stab into his heart lightly, for some reason. But it's done with a smile that gets his irritation at the action to whither away instantly, though. "Thanks! You're saving my life," Mogari says, and that’s the end of it.

History classes are more boring than usual, today: usually he'd be captivated, but today the teacher's just retelling a fun fact she's told them before. That could be a nice thing, honestly: an occasion to just do nothing and have fun without feeling guilty at being distracted. For example, Zaki and Mogari are exploiting the occasion to be distracted without Eugene having an excuse to chime in about it. He's letting them drag him into their doodles session, actually.

Watching them draw is pretty distracting but he's still not distracted enough. Or, he's being distracted from his distraction.

The clock's smallest hand hit the twelfth mark. Lunchtime's in 20 minutes. English is in two hours and 20 minutes. His presentation might be in two hours and-

His stomach twists again. He accidentally locks eyes with one student. Fuck. He raises his hand. "Sorry, ma'am, can I...", he manages to squeak out. Somehow. It's a miracle. It's an urgency. It's. He's really, really glad suddenly that he's probably the subject of many discussions in the teachers lounge, because at least Miss Hasebe knows how he gets, and he gets dismissed pretty much immediately.

It's almost not quick enough: the corridor rushes in the corner of his vision as he goes from speed-walking to jogging to running, and he's never been more glad not to see anyone in them. Karma might be real because, for once, there's no one out of classes to take their own impromptu break session, and there's also none of the students council members patrolling them. Thank you, Karma, he has the fleeting thought of.

Karma might also be real and grateful for his politeness because just on time, the familiar sight of porcelain greets him and then he's finally able to safely empty his insides.

Then there's the unwelcome warmth in his throat. He retches once, twice. It's actually over pretty quickly, but the weight in his stomach and chest doesn't go away, so he stays there for who knows how long.

He's not ready to go back out there until he knows he's fully ready. But he doesn't, really doesn't think he'll ever entirely feel ready for facing down a mass of people so soon, though.

The liquid's clear, but he doesn't look at what he just threw up when he flushes the toilet. He closes the door to the stall behind him. There was a time when he used to, in a sort of morbid curiosity that he just had to fulfil. Yeah, that wasn't the smartest. He stopped once he realized it'd make him throw back up a bit too often, though.

He stood up on shaky legs, but he goes through the rest of his routine easily. Spit out the rest of the water he was cleaning his mouth with, wipes off his mouth, goes to take a mint-

Well, he can't do that last part. Because he left his candy container in his bag that's back in the class. Which he only realizes now, obviously. Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumbass. The realization almost has him cursing himself out loud, not just mentally.

The door to the bathroom has him freezing before he can do that. It opens. His gaze snap downward.

The tiles is a familiar sight, too, one that he's also well acquainted with.

"Tamon? Are you alright?"

The interruption has him snapping his head back up. Oh, he thinks, and an audible "oh!" leaves his mouth, too.

"Yeah, I'm done now. I'm better”, he says to the newcomer.

Eugene's face is there, and he's able to face it, which is nice, but it sports concern, which is less nice. "Are you sure ? You looked really green, there", his friend tells him.

"Yeah, I'm sure! Got a bit stressed. It all just kind of went crashing down, and all."

"Oh, sorry about that. It's great it's over now, though." Eugene's smile is sympathetic, so much so that it has Tamon feeling kind of flustered. It's not new of his friend or of the three of them to show they care, but he still gets surprised by the lack of judgement that comes from them.

"Hm hm. Hey, how are you here? Are classes done already?"

Because if so, then he managed to miss the bell ringing, which is a wonder in of itself, because it's a, well.

Pretty loud bell. One that does it's job well.

The thought that this rhymed makes him smile, slightly.

"Oh, no, I just asked Miss Hasebe to go check up on you. It's only been fifty minutes, don't worry. You didn't miss much”, Eugene answers him.

"Oh. Okay. Nice." It isn't that nice, actually. Fifteen minutes is a long time, but it also isn't that long, not really.

Definitely not long enough for it to bring him any peace of mind. And even less long enough for him to make his comeback.

"...Hey, would you mind if we, uh. Stayed a little bit more ? There's only 10 minutes left, right? I wouldn't be missing much", he asks.

"Okay, sure. I'll just tell Miss Hasebe you weren't feeling better, she'll understand." Eugene's answer comes with no hesitation and a whole lot of assurance Tamon can't do anything but be impressed by.

"Perks of being an incredibly good student?"

"…Yes. Perks of being an incredibly good student", his friend confirms with a sober nod. "I'll text Zaki to bring us our bags."

"Think he'll see the message ?" Zaki's more of the type to sneak glimpses at a manga in classes than at his phone. Tamon's seen him do it sometimes, but it was pretty rare, and only in situations that really, really required it (say, literature classes, for example).

" He'll see it. He wanted to go check on you pretty much as soon as you got up, actually."

That's a.. very heartwarming thought. Even though he'll likely be pretending otherwise, Zaki cares about him, and them, a whole lot, and Tamon really loves his friends, has he told them that already?

"You don't need to go to the infirmary or anything, right?", Eugene asks him, like he pretty much always does whenever one of the three of them gets visibly and, more importantly, visually unwell.

"Oh, yeah, no, don't worry." He's fine. He's still feeling nauseous, yeah, but he's sure it'll pass, though. Just... In two hours.

“It'll pass in two hours”, he says. It’s a probable truth, too: he’s been getting way better recently, at keeping his anxiety in check and wrestling it down into leaving him alone at least a little bit. It’s just today is unusual, that his brain and stomach defeated him for so little

. “I just don't really feel like getting back and disturbing everyone just to attend 9 minutes of classes, that'd be dumb", he explains to Eugene at his inquisitive expression.

—————————

Lunchtime comes more quickly than what should be considered fair. The bell ring, and him and Eugene are almost too busy to notice it. Only almost though, because as soon as it rings, they're both startling so sharply they end up bursting into laughter at their own fear.

Tamon's snickers slow to a stop when Eugene speaks up though.

"Okay, I told Zaki and Mogari we'd join them at the cafeteria. Do you need to drop by your... locker..." He stops himself there, looking very, very frazzled, and that's almost enough to get Tamon to drop back into laughter.

"You don't have the keys to them. Right. Sorry", Eugene resumes.

"That's fine, don't worry, I'll just go grab my lunchbox after if I'm still hungry.”

He'll probably be. He's often still hungry after eating the cafeteria's lunch portions. Because they're way, way too small: the aliments and food itself are great , and they taste very good, but he's used to eating for two people , so...

"Okay, perfect!", Eugene's saying, and then they're both off to the cafeteria, just like that, just that easily. Tamon’s not minding leaving the familiarity of the restroom that much, with Eugene’s here leading him out of it.

—————————

It's not too busy, yet, which Tamon really is happy about. It makes finding Zaki and Mogari very easy, since almost nobody else is there yet. The hallway are clear enough that the shadows coming from the windows are left untouched.

The pile of bags is probably what’d makes them easy to spot, if there was a crowd, when you ignore all the other boisterous things about them.

Say, one Mogari Shishikuno.

Tamon answers back the slightly-too-enthusiastic waving with a short nod. Eugene... Well, he doesn't really know what Eugene does, given he's looking strictly forward to avoid any involuntary eye-contact with other students also going towards the cafeteria.

"Guys! Tamon, glad to see you survived ! Hey, think I could be the one accompanying you to the toilets next time?"

" You just wanted a reason to leave class because Miss Hasabe went back talking about the Jōmon period", Zaki notes, tone dry.

He offers a nod to Tamon as he does. The action gets a small smile appearing on his face. Tamon can feel it pulling at his mouth.

"What, no! I'd never." Mogari's protest is immediate, and Tamon doesn't really believe it even before Mogari speaks up again. "Okay I would a little . Or. well, partially. But I was still worried! Me and Zaki both thought you got lost or something."

"I didn't." Zaki keeps talking just as sternly, but that tone does go away a little when he picks up Tamon's bag to give it to him. "You're good now?"

"Yeah" 's all Tamon says. He's busy grabbing his bag and slightly scrambling for his mint candy, so Eugene has all the time he wants to intervene.

"Did you not see my texts ? I sent a lot of updates." His eyebrows raises a little behind his glasses, Tamon can tell by the inflexion of his tone.

"Nope, actually. Mogari was the one answering near the end", Zaki says, going to stares daggers into said-person.

"You stole his phone?", Eugene asks, sounding genuinely baffled as he bends down to take his bag.

Probably because he didn't distinguish the two when he was talking to them? Tamon didn't either, to be fair. He was fully convinced Zaki was the one answering when 'he' was sending screenshots of animes they ‘should imperatively be watching before they die’.

"He's lying, that's- ...Slander. Slandering my name. The only thing I stole was his pencil", Mogari's saying, turning to push the door open dramatically. The action and the drama has Tamon shuddering slightly, but following still comes easily, surprisingly.

Maybe it's because the only one people will be looking at is obviously going to be Mogari, since he's as brazen as usual, if not more, today. "Ohhh, udon today? Neat!", his friend exclaims.

The weathered piece of paper that announce the weekly menus is saying that.

"...Udon today", Zaki's confirming, also changing the subject.

—————————

The udon smells really, really great. He would have added a bit of shichimi, personally, instead of the slightly too sweet abura-age sitting on top of the noodles, but it doesn't seem that bad.

Too bad it seems so unappetizing to him currently, though. He twirls around a noodle while listening to the current conversation.

They're comparing the shark from Jaws and Godzilla, and that sounds like a fun conversation, but Tamon keeps getting distracted.

His mind keeps getting flooded with the reminder that his demise is officially in less than two hours now. Every time he manages to forget it, he's reminded of the fact by random entirely unrelated things.

" Hear me out though: Bruce will literally be able to creep in on Godzilla, Godzilla can't do that, he's way too graceless for it. He'll definitely be caught of guard by it."

"Why's the shark's name Bruce anyway? Is this a reference to Bachmtman, or?" Eh. Zaki's just as graceless as Godzilla, really, speaking with his mouth full of non-swallowed bites. He complains about Mogari’s lack of manners, but his own spit’s also flying a bit currently.

"Oh, no it's actually based on Spielberg's lawyer" Eugene starts to say. Usually, Tamon would be enthralled by the random trivia Eugene always knows. Today, though... Today his gaze keeps moving around their club room they've moved to, focusing on pretty much nothing of what's in it or the view of the school-yard hiding behind the curtains.

Until it does, on the blackboard. That's where he's gonna have to be standing in front of in less than two hours. In front of a whole entire class and a thousands of gazes. Repeating a text he's not even sure he entirely remembers. Ohhhh that's not a nice thought. Really, really not a nice one. If he freezes because he forgot what he has to say, it'll make his temporary hell even longer and even more awful.

Nope. "Eugene?" He goes suddenly, snapping his head back to his friends. A bit too suddenly maybe because it has Eugene startling, but.

"Uh, yeah?", he says, turning away from their ongoing conversation that Tamon's not even sure was still about the Jaw Vs Godzilla debacle.

"Could you help me rehearse? For the English presentation?"

"Oh. Shit. I forgot about that", Zaki chimes in, tranquilly finishing his juice box anyway. "We have to present an english touristic spot, right?" There's not nearly enough panic in his behavior about that than there would have been in Tamon's.

"Yes", Eugene says with a sigh that's more amused than frustrated. "And yes, no problem Tamon, we can do that."

"I also forgot, fuckk." Mogari's eyes are wide open in panic. "Or, well, I was too tired yesterday, I conked out literally immediately after we got back from the train station."

Makes sense. There were a lot of ghosts there, and they had to move around a lot for Mogari to be able to eat them all. Sleep also tempted Tamon by a lot when they finally all got back to their houses, but he chose to resist its appeal to revise.

Maybe he should have gone to sleep early though, he considers when pushing himself and his chair away from his plate.

Because clearly staying up late didn't do much in preparing him for the presentation, the ever-present nausea in his stomach reminds him.

“We were up at it for at least fourty minutes. I wanted to have a little phone break but then boom, it was late and I blacked out”, Mogari says.

“Doomscrolling session, more like”, Zaki goes. “You brought this onto yourself”

“...That's alright, I'll just die.”

"You say that but you should be fine", Zaki tells Mogari. "Didn't your clan teach you English and all?"

"Yeah, true", Mogari shrugs before he's turning towards Tamon with eyes that can only be qualified as voracious. "Are you gonna eat that?" "You can have it", he says with probably the smallest laugh he's ever laughed, standing up towards his bag. When Mogari asks something like that, saying no would basically be punching a puppy in the face.

He doesn’t wanna be adding to the strain of his stress and his guts anyway.

Eugene follows him into standing up too, since he's pretty much already done eating. "You can have my leftovers too if you want", he tells Mogari before he's fully facing Tamon. "So, do you have your notes ? How do you want to go about it?"

"Uhm. I was thinking you just stare at me like we did for eye-contact-training and I try to say my speech aloud without forgetting anything?"

—————————

Putting words to his emotions as he waits for the current class to be done and the next one, english, to start is impossible. He’s never really been able to describe the dread he feels well.

It just, is, and it’s both nausea and fear and horror and survival reaction and habit in a way he himself can’t even entirely understand.

His stress is something he holds close to his chest, but it’s also not something he can choose to get out in the way he’d want it to.

This isn’t an exception.

The only real way he can describe it is that he really, really would like it to stop, but that he’s still used to it anyway.

He can daydream about being home listening to his playlist. But that's pretty much all he can do to ignore the pang in his stomach. It grew again since **yesterday **evening. It hasn't left him ever since this morning, actually. And yes he’s used to it: but, still, it’s unusual anyway, today. It’s not usually that bad anymore. It’s not this type of permanent, at least.

This really, really sucks.

—————————

Rehearsing was awful. Rehearsing was awful and hell but at least his only persecutors were Eugene with his strictness and Mogari and Zaki with their occasional interruptions. Waiting for the real deal is the version of hell that's going to be the end of him. Sitting there has his heart clutching itself to his ribs and making them tremble with its jammed beating.

He doesn't know if not knowing the order of who'll speak next is making things better or not. At least if he knew when it'd be his turn he wouldn't be flinching every time the teacher calls out a name, but then he'd know when his demise would come. In every stories, it's not a great thing for people to know the exact date of the day they'll die, right?

Zaki does just well when it's his turn to speak in front of the whole class. He gets there, he talks all dramatically about the Cathedral he picked, and everyone applaud when he's done, since that's what Mr. Wilson wants them to do after a presentation's done. British custom, and all.

His hands gets clammier and clammier every time Tamon’s applauding. They keep sweating bullets when he wait for Mr. Wilson to pick a random name. It's not his that comes up, and he's torn between the immense relief that washes upon him and the churning of his stomach.

The pang doesn't go away while other students presents their buildings and parks and spots. He doesn't exactly know which they're talking about. Too busy staring at the cracks in his table.

Can time move more quickly? Or, actually, no- can it move more slowly? Or stop as a whole, that'd be nice. Would be awesome if it'd freeze.

And freezing he does when his name's finally called. He's stuck to his seat. That's going to be his resting place. He's stuck there for what feels like a hundred of minutes, until Zaki's pushing him out his chair with a whispered “Come on, you've got this.”

His legs have never been shakier as he march to the black board and his demise. His hands, too, and the paper with his notes as well, and it's like a vicious cycle and if he finishes his speech entirely it's going to be a miracle.

Eugene's advice of using his notes to avoid eye-contact, he follows it to a t, his face almost plastered to the letters. He reads them out loud so quickly it's a wonder he doesn't suffocate himself.

“Good, good. You can sit down”, Mr. Wilson announce his deliverance in english.

Tamon waste no time going to sit down even if he hasn't fully deciphered the words yet.

—————————

He made the mistake of lifting his gaze from the floor. It was dumb. Pretty stupid.

It sucks, too, because he was doing so well recently, handling looking at people in the eyes, but here he goes, throwing back up the few of the udon he ate today. At least he didn't have to throw up too much of the undigested food.

Still. It sucks. The bitter tastes linger in his throat, and his mouth, and it's infiltrating in between his dentition and into his teeth, too.

This time he didn't make it to the restroom too, and he's also used to that, but it doesn't make going to the janitors less humiliating.

At least they're nice, he thinks. They keep insisting for him to let them clean up his mess, but Tamon can be insistent, too.

When he’s outside and he throws up he doesn’t really mind since, well, nature and all —it rains or it decay into the dirt or, ew, stray or wild animals eat it— but otherwise he doesn’t like leaving his own mess behind. Guilts him. Makes him feel really really bad.

He'd also really rather use any excuse he can to spend as much time as he wants out the classroom. There's still a few hours left until classes are over, so he knows he'll have to see people sooner than later: at least this way it's a little less sooner than what he's comfortable with.

He's still mopping up what he threw back up when the door to the classroom opens. He goes freezing again. There’s something about other people that’s petrifying him, something in eyes that only he perceives as gorgon’s. Something about perception, something about acknowledgement, something of fear.

It’s awful. It’s terrible.

“Hey”, Zaki says.

Oh. That's fine, then.

“Hi”, he looks up. Out of the tree of them, he excepted Mogari to be the one joining him, honestly. He says so out loud.

“He wanted to but Mr Wilson wouldn't let him until it was his turn ”, Zaki shrugs. There's a frown on his face, one that's a.. bit different from his usual resting face. “Honestly, that dude sucks. He could have let you send him a voice memo or something.”

“Eh. Substitutes usually don't let me do that”, Tampon says, finishing mopping.

“It’s dumb.”

He shrugs. “I'm used to it. Today was actually better than usual.”

It's true, too. He's not saying that just to reassure his friend. All his life, as far as he can remember going to school, he's been overcome with anxiety at the thought of presentations or answering questions out loud. Honestly, what he did today was close to a miracle, so even if it annoys him he still ended up throwing up again, he can only be grateful he managed to speak earlier, as quick and full of mistakes as it probably was.

“You did manage to say all your parts. I forgot some of mine”, Zaki tells him. “Hey, how many do you bet Mogari will forget ?”

“Hm, i don't know. Maybe only one? He was listening when Eugene was helping me rehearse.”

“I'd say two. He was too distracted devouring your leftovers to listen at the beginning”, Zaki tells him. “Where's the janitors room already?”

The question has a smile appearing Tamon's lips. It implies Zaki's coming too, and not leaving him a choice about whether they’re staying together or not, and that's a fact Tamon can only accept is his new normal.

The pang in his stomach’s still there, though. That's definitely not normal. Usually he's fine-ish, when he's surrounded by no strangers, even after crisis, and Zaki definitely doesn't count as a stranger anymore now.

But his guts are still sitting heavily within his body right now, not his usual nausea.

—————————

Classes are going to be over really, really soon- Tamsin can't wait for the bell to ring and for the four of them to be able to go to their club room again.

Mogari's beginning to get stir-crazy, but to be fair, he also is. Those classes are way better than English, and he’s able to focus a little more, but it really isn’t by a lot. For some reason, his attention keeps wandering away from the lesson and exercises he’s meant to be doing. He keeps having to blink his eyes manually for them to feel less dry. It’s not even that he’s dozing off, or anything: the presence of the classmates that aren’t his friends wouldn’t let him fall asleep, even if he wanted to.

He’s… a bit tired, but he doesn’t think he’ll be taking a nap when they’ll get to their club room. Technically, he could, and the couch is nothing but uninviting. But he doesn’t feel up to sleeping anyway. The adrenaline from two hours ago and his english presentation is still buzzing through his veins, and his guts, on top of inside his very brain, it feels like. It probably still will be when they’ll be at the club. But at least there he has more chances at being able to relax.

Even if he's able to talk to other people and hold eye contact better now, their abandoned class is still a haven on days like those, with, say, oral presentations. There’s barely anyone that goes there, except for the occasional student and their ghost-related problems.

Most of the time, they’ll just be chilling in there, playing or talking or asking Eugene for help on insurmountable piles of homework's. Some other times, they’ll just be scrolling on their phone or reading or listening to music. Less often, they’ll be considering the best way to exorcise ghosts or how to travel to the spots they’re haunting, but even then it’s not that stressful.

He really, really can’t wait to be there. The moment the bell will ring, they’ll go: any minute, now.

—————————

When he gets up from his seat, he feels like the classroom is lighter than it’s meant to be for just an instant.

“We have no homeworks due tomorrow, right?”, Zaki's asking him, and he nods while putting his cap on, finally, now that classes are over for the day.

“Yeah”, he says. “That was it for the week.”

“You sure?”, Zaki says, and he’s raising an eyebrow, and that… has Tamon almost snapping, for some reason?

“Yeah. Dude, don’t ask me if you’re gonna be questioning my answer.”

“Yeah, dude”, Mogari echoes, leaving the conversation he was having with Eugene.

“… Do you even have any clue what you were agreeing to?”, Zaki asks Mogari, eyebrow still up but at him this time. Eugene’s are distinctly down. Tamon’s, too. He doesn’t know what’s up with him today, but it really is frustrating Tamon, how all over the place his emotions are being. But, well. At least club time will makes it all better, if they won’t be trying to fulfill Mogari’s quota today.

He hopes they won’t have to. He doesn’t have cramps from all the running and circling and stalking up around they had to do yesterday, but his body sure is feeling the loss of all the energy he had to spend and hasn’t managed to gain back yet. But the club room is getting closer, and they’ll be there soon, and Tamon will finally, finally gets to get his rest, now that all the stakes of school are off his shoulder.

—————————

Someone knocked on the door. Usually, people just get in on their own, but maybe the person waiting behind the door is apprehensive? It can be stressful to have to open a door when you don't know whether you're supposed to get in, or knock again, or wait, or wait to get in, or-

The others aren't getting up: Zaki's still reading his manga and Eugene and Mogari are too busy doing who knows what to react, so.

"You're literally closer to the door than me", he snarks at them.

It comes out more as a mumble than anything sharp, though. He stands up fully from the couch, and he’s turning towards the door,

and then.

Tamon's being asked something like all the possible variations of "Are you okay?", he's pretty sure.

He'll answer soon. At some point.

There’s a warmth on his forehead. There's prodding that's being repeated again and again and that he's, like, 90% sure is Mogari tapping on his cheek. The rhythm's so fucked up. He really needs it to stop. He doesn't want his poor ears ringing any more, please.

"Tamon? Hello? Tamon?"

"Don't pull a Mogari!"

"Hey!!"

"Guys, shut. Tamon? Can you hear me?"

He groans. Five more minutes away from the nausea, please. He's fine down there with his eyes closed for a few more minutes. And- Light forcibly hits his eyeballs. Without his approval. That rhymes- but he's a bit too busy having his eyelids pried opened by a dumbass to marvel at his accidental rhyme.

"Wha- Hey!", it's his turn to protest this time, fighting off the unwelcomed hands. They retreat. Tamon looks up a little, on his own accord this time.

"Dude , Mogari, that's definitely not how you deal with someone that just conked out" Tamon has maybe 3 wholes millisecondes to register it's Zaki that said that before Mogari's onto him and he has to spit black hair out his mouth.

"He's not even sitting up, you need to let him collect himself-" It's Eugene that's saying that. "He scared me!", Mogari's defending himself. Straight into his ear, pretty much. "Dude, you scared me. Your eyes went all white, it was awful"

"Uhm. ...Sorry?", he's saying before he can figure out anything further. Things around him aren't blurry and all wacky like he thought passing out would make them to be : he can see very clearly that's he's still in the middle of the club round. He can also very visibly see –excluding Mogari's since said head is currently right into his shoulder– the concern on his friends' heads.

"Dude. I thought you died. And I am NOT ever eating you, no thanks you.", Mogari's head into his shoulder says. The words are a bit too humid but honestly, Tamon doesn't mind. Tamon's arms are wrapping back around Mogari before he can really think about it. Or before Mogari can be done talking. Because, don't blame him, but that was scary. He's gotten nauseous and dizzy plenty before, but he's never gotten to the whole "dead body on the floor" part.

"How is that the first thing you even think of? Just after you had to see your friend drop dead to the floor?", Zaki asks. "I swear, I'm surrounded by walking and breathing stomachs.” That part he mumbles.

So Tamon really dropped straight to the floor? Not even, like, a little sliding down less dramatically. Apparently. Or is that just Zaki being his usual drama-queen and exaggerating things? But his cap’s not on his head anymore. So. Chances he actually dived to the floor are high.

“Hey, at least I didn’t shriek that loud”, Mogari answers Zaki:

Usually that'd be the part where Eugene would join in on the banter: but when Tamon looks up at him, there's a frown of his face.

"Tamon. Did you eat today?", he asks.

"Oh, no, I was too stressed about the presentation so I..." His voice trails off and. Oh. Ohhhhhh. Oh. The realization smacks him right into the head and leaves him spiritually sprawled out on the ground. Like how he was before and still is. The pit in his stomach is almost never hunger anymore. It's always fear, terror, unnecessary anxiety, that come twirling into his head then resting back down into nausea, until he's throwing it all back up. And there was that today, yes, but.

"You didn't??", Mogari's asking. He didn't. " I didn't", he confirms.

The epiphany is pretty much collective. Judging by the gasps of realization he’s hearing and his own thought process.

All day long, he's been a bit tired, yes, but he's also thrown up more times than his usual. As in: more than he had been doing recently, but pretty much equal than how many time a day he used to throw up before. And the pang in his stomach was hunger, and that much throwing up on an almost empty stomach definitely didn’t help.

"Ohhhh", Mogari's saying now, still clutching onto him. They probably make a ridiculous sight. Tamon pretty much doesn't care at all. "Were you not hungry, or?" "No, I was. I just. Didn’t feel like eating, I guess?”

"That's dumb, though. "

"I didn't mean to. Didn't even notice I was feeling bad."

And he's also been too nauseous with stress to keep his lunch down. He didn’t eat any breakfast, too. So okay, before he knew it, it’s been... what, 18hours? 18 hours since he’s really digesting anything, and, well. Needless to say his body didn't enjoy that, apparently. And. And. His stomach churned. Like, bad, all day long, but he had just assumed it was, well.. his usual anxiety. Except worsened maybe by something adrenaline-related ? Yesterday evening's ghost was a pretty tough one to exorcise.

“Zaki, can you-”, Eugene says.

“Yes, yes. On it”, his friend’s saying, scrambling a little to get away from him. Tamon only realizes now he really had previously been crowded by all his friends. He had thought Zaki was further away, for some reason.

“Can he what?”, he asks, a little dazedly: a little dizzily. Had he been feeling dizzy previously? He doesn’t think he was. Not before he blacked out, at least. He was feeling mostly fine, honestly. He’s not sick, that’s for sure: when he comes down with a cold, he comes down. He’d be shivering and sweating and dying right now if he was sick.

“Bring you some water and at least half a dozen snacks”, Eugene answers, slowly bringing his feet down from the place on the couch they were resting on. Huh.

“Huh. Yeah. That makes sense”, he says, straightening up a little, as much as the arms around him let him. ” Sorry if I scared you. I really didn’t mean to.”

“That’s fine, just don’t do it again. Think you can sit?”, Eugene asks. “Mogari, can you-”

“Uhm. Yes, I think so”, Tamon’s saying at the same time Mogari goes “Can I what?”.

“Let him sit up, please. I really don’t think you’re supposed to be plastered to someone that just passed out. Even if it wasn’t for that long.” Eugene seems really serious. Definitely serious compared to his more silly expressions, but even when compared to his usual them-shenanigans-related seriousness. There’s also a whole great deal of lingering worry there, one that has Tamon feeling all warm with embarrassment.

“Oh, sorry!”, Mogari exclaims. Right into his ear. “Sorry”, he says again, this time directly to him, letting go of him.

“It’s okay. I didn’t mind”, he says, the honesty leaving his mouth easily while he sits up properly, propping himself up against the side of the couch. He’s able to look up at the door properly too, now, and- “Hey, wait, where did they go?”

“… Who? Zaki? He’s at the vending machine”, Eugene asks, perplexed, like he’s wondering if Tamon’s fall impacted his intelligence somehow. He didn’t eat his head or anything, though.

“No, I meant the student that knocked on the door.”

The concern on both Mogari and Eugene’s face is not really fun. It makes Tamon thinks he hallucinated, honestly. And.

“Nobody knocked on any door.”, Mogari tells him with his incredible lack of gentleness, just as Eugene’s asking him “Did you hear anything?”.

“Nope”, Mogari answers him immediately.

That’s. Well. Tamon suddenly understand their worries a little more, imagining the scene.

“Oh. So I hallucinated and fainted for no valuable reason? Argh. Not neat.”

“Yeah, ‘not neat’”, Eugene answers with a firm expression and an even firmer nod.

“I’m pretty sure I saw a ghost close in the corridor, actually” Zaki’s informs them, entering the door frame. He’s holding at least three snack bars, and one others snack Tamon can’t identify yet, but also a can of soda.

That’s a bit overboard.

“That’s definitely not enough,” Mogari goes, standing up so suddenly Tamon can’t help but think about his blood sugar level. …Probably because his own likely dropped when he did that earlier.

Before he can protest, Mogari’s already rummaging through his backpack, coming up with a “Haha!” and two others bars.

“No, really, you don’t need to-”

“Can you return to the “there’s a ghost in the corridor” bit?” Eugene interrupts.

“Oh, yeah, I saw someone running away when I got out. They ran into a wall, and all, so they were definitely a ghost,” Zaki answers, wholly uncaring and unbothered about Tamon’s flustered state. Flustration? Is that how that’s said? He basically gets the snacks thrown into his face, though, so he can’t really focus on it for too long.

“You’d be the worst nurse ever,” Zaki snarks at Mogari.

“Hey, I’m feeding the starving patient!”

“That’s literally the bare minimum,” Zaki says, offering Tamon the snacks he brought— and likely bought with his own money— way more carefully than Mogari did, if still a little abruptly.

He takes them, adding them to the two bars already lying on his lap, and that’s when he realizes those ones were Mogari’s. As in Mogari’s, as in the ones he always bring to school to snack on. Oh. He’s going Oh a lot, today.

But once again, he can’t really focus on his revelation, because his stomach rolls so suddenly he’s almost scared he’ll be throwing up for the umpteenth time today.

Right. Approximatively 18 hours since he last ate anything. Right.

Eugene comes back from the window he had gone to. He’s opened it, apparently. That’s… probably something you’re meant to do for someone that passed out? Maybe. That sounds like something he would know to do, so Tamon’s just going to assume that’s why Eugene did it.

His friend sits next to him, a bit ungracefully, joining him in leaning against the couch.

“So.” He’s staring at Tamon’s hands. Tamon looks back down, and he stares at the granola bears. Looks back up. Looks back down, when he sees that Eugene’s still looking down.

He unwraps the bar, and he bites into it, and- Yeah, okay, maybe Mogari was right. Maybe what Zaki brought would have not been enough. And, he’s starving, he really is, and now that the stress and adrenaline is entirely gone, he can really, really feels it.

“Are you sure you haven’t been feeling sort of bad all day long?” Eugene asks, and when Tamon looks back up he can see Zaki and Mogari are sitting close. His gaze drifts behind them.

There's his balloon two-feet away from the corner it’s usually in. Tamon wonders if his body bounced around when he went down.

“I mean, I’ve been stressed, and nauseous, but those are usually very close to each other for me.”

“Okay. And you haven’t been feeling too warm or too cold, or your throat or anything hurting, right?”

“Nope. I think it was all just the presentation and the hunger”, he says, unwrapping his second bar. “…Oh, also, haven’t slept too much b’cause of the exorcism and revising and all of that,” he says between two bites. The bar probably tastes really good. Too bad his stomach begging for more isn’t allowing him to eat more slowly.

… He can see Eugene and his spine visibly unwinding, going all straight all of the sudden.

“I’m fine, really. It happens. Or, well- that doesn’t happen usually, it was actually the first time, but it’s not the first time I got so anxious it kept me from eating or stuff like that ,” he scrambles to explain.

“Okay, nice, because if you were telling me it happened often that'd be scary”, Mogari interrupts.

When Tamon looks at him, his eyebrows are twisted down almost comically. Tamon doesn’t exactly feel like laughing about it, though. He’s not feeling like throwing back up or running away from the interaction, either, and that’s a thought that Tamon’s made even more aware of, with his friends around him like they’re a package deal. He feels like the fragile pottery thing that needs wrapping currently, but it’s not something he especially minds right at the moment.

“No, really, I’m fine.”

“Well. Good thing your anxiety isn’t that bad”, Zaki tells, and it sounds and is snarky, but there’s also a sort of carefulness to his expression that makes it more than just the sarcastic comment it is.

There’s also a bit on Eugene’s and Mogari’s concern, on it.

“You’re eating more than just that, by the way”, the latter announces, features expressively resolute. “And we’re waiting until at least one hour before we’re leaving. Oh, and. In the future-”

Oh. The ever-present pit living in his body isn’t going to be leaving any day soon, but it sure sounds like his friend will be throwing all they can into it to at least appease it.

His friends as a whole, actually- When he looks, there’s definitely resolve in all their expressions, and it looks like it’s going to be pooling out of their bodies and eyes, a bit. That’d be horrifying of a vision, if that happened to any ghosts. The mental image isn’t especially disgusting him, or anything. It’s actually heart-warming, kinda.

Definitely is.

“

… you really pulled a Mogari”, Zaki says, when they're walking him back home, later.

… He did, too, with the hunger and not dealing with it until it was too late. He also randomly dropped down in front of his friends, too. He pulled a Mogari.

“Oh. Oh wait, I did”, he goes, almost dropping his box of take-out at the revelation and the giggle it draws from him “So.. Who do you think is next ? You or Eugene ?”

“Does the beach possession exhaustion not count? Because if so I'm saying Eugene's next”

“… No way. No thanks you”, his friend says, and he's looking very frazzled, and that's enough to put a grin to Tamon's face, the first official one of his no-good-very-bad day.

“Yes way. Sorry, it's officially a rite of passage, apparently.”

“I’m finding a way to get you out of english presentations next time.”

“By being a very much incredible student?”

“Nah, I’m getting either Mr Noir or Mogari to intimidate the teachers.”

“Oh. Uh. Thanks?”

“You’re welcome”, Eugene says, face drawn into a serious expression. He pushes his glasses a little higher on his face. “Very least I can do to help my friend.

“…Thanks”, Tamon repeats himself, instead of staying wordless. And he is grateful, really.

“Cass! That’s ... literally disgusting, aeurgh-”

Crouching in the middle of the sidewalk, Cass barely looks up. Or well, maybe she does. Steph is a bit too busy turning around— in order not to see the slaughter— to notice.

“You do the same. With pizza.” the mermaid says, unimpressed, uncaring, unmoved about Steph’s apparent utter disgust.

“I don’t. Do you see me decapitating my food before I eat it?”

“You can’t. Your food has no head”, Cass says. And then one of the last fishes she had caught earlier is immediately torn between her canines, again.

There’s something a bit captivating, about the way she tears at it seamlessly, leaving not a single bone behind. It’s just Steph’s consciousness 's being glad she doesn’t have to see the water turning red, like it's some sort of horror movie, she tells herself.

“And I eat the head, also”, Cass precises . Because of course she does. "So it's not decapitating."

“Yeah, that doesn’t make it better.”

It doesn't. Simultaneously, though, the random banter does make it more normal.

The first time Steph got to see Cass eating non-human made food was… A bit of a shock. A surprise, definitely. She should have excepted it, really : the wildness of it, the strength held in her jaw, her dentition. But domesticity had a way of making her forget all about their differences, forget some parts of the nature that made her her, up until she was confronted with said differences by an entirely unbothered Cass.

One evening, early enough that Steph could still see entirely fine when outside, Cass had came to her house, like usual. They sat outside, because the sunset was always more than worth it, and it was really nice. Steph thinks she was ranting about the increase of prices of the local market.

She knows for a fact Cass was sitting next to her, listening, until she had suddenly moved, quicker than Steph really processed. Steph knows she had definitely noticed the frog that Cass was holding, because she distinctly remembers thinking that it was adorable. Then Cass had snapped its head without a second thought.

As odd as it was, she had only felt horror for a little while. The big, oblivious eyes turning toward her when Steph's jaw unhinged from her face kind of distracted her from doing anything like screaming her shock out.

Now, well. She’s not shocked anymore whenever that happens. Just slightly jumpscared each time because Cass isn't going to stop jumping on whatever small creature has the stupid idea to pass by her.

At least she warns Steph she’s "going to be destroying her snack" before she does it, now. (Steph’s words, not hers.)

So here is now Steph, judging every single one of the cracks in the fucked up wall, the one not too far off into her vision.

“Are you done soon?”, she asks, tracking the path of a random stray cat that choses this moment to walk on the wall “Because we’re in the middle of the street, there could be people out walking their-”

Dogs.

The thought that maybe she should warn Cass against lunching on just any random creature hits Steph’s brain very suddenly.

Dogs. Stray cats.

Rabid wild animals, too. Maybe. Those would be less of a problem, morally-wise, because rabid animals don't usually have people caring about them. But Steph has no clue how eating one could affect someone.

Can sea creatures become rabid? Do mermaids ever get sick? Steph has no clue and no answers to any of these questions, and she doesn't want to imagine how Cass would look, in the splendor of all of her wildness. Really, she doesn't.

The point is: Steph has always been pretty fond of animals, as long as she remembers. She liked observing them, be it on her Youtube account or through the windows of her house.

She's also always hated seeing them suffering unnecessarily. Once, she saw a bird getting its wings clipped: and it was unnecessary, and it was violence, and it was something Steph never managed to forget. That was one of the first time violence marked her mind, and that was when she told herself she'd remember all those time, would do her best to remember all that was unfair to never one day do the same.

But it's in her nature, in Cass's nature, to eat and catch the ones — birds, toads, lizards, any creatures— she can.

And she's been doing it less than Steph is convinced she usually does, when she's out of her waters.

And maybe she doesn't consider it as a sacrifice, and maybe what Steph has to offer instead is enough.

Still, she feels felonious in a way, when she tells her her request.

"Hey, Cass? Could you try avoiding eating cats and dogs?"

Cass's answers come easily, more easily than any sacrifice ought to be. "Yes." Maybe this is a confirmation it isn't one, then.

She doesn't ask for precisions, doesn't ask for compromises. She just say yes, and she adds "I can", and this is where it stops.

Steph is grateful. She wonders if things were always meant to be as easy as that. If things will always be. If, really, the normal she's feeling has always meant to be with someone so out of the norms.

She doesn't think she cares, entirely.

She looks back, toward the girl and the carcass she's holding within her hands, and she smiles.

Cass smiles back, blood on her teeth, and the blood isn't disturbing her, this once, this time. Steph's glad, really.

"Thanks', she says simply.

Aizawa takes the last sip of his coffee, and he sets down his cup only after he’s enjoyed that last sip. He sits. His shadow follows. Tokoyami’s own stays firmly wrapped around the teen’s shoulders, not talking or even mumbling. Calm, for once.

"Procedure would have me summarize what happened, but I’m pretty sure you know more than I do”, he sits down, pushing papers out of his seat. “I’d also rather have your side of it.”

Tokoyami remains silent, and Aizawa sighs. He’d ask Tokoyami to just text him his explanation when he’ll be ready, but that’d definitely be against procedures then.

It’ll be easier to get through all of this while face to face, too.

Aizawa has the camera-rushes, but most of what he had the ability to see was a blurry, zoomed-in mess: Dark Shadow suddenly snapping at students that were seemingly simply talking to Tokoyami in a way that doesn’t make sense.

Tokoyami isn’t a violent person, or even one of his hot-heated students, like one specific blonde teen. He is strong-willed, yes, but if there’s something Tokoyami lacks, it's violence. He can be resolute, even harsher when needed, especially when it comes to villains and attacks, but never otherwise. Unless Aizawa has been blind to that aspect of him, but he highly doubts that. Tokoyami’s a soft person, he’s gotten to see that more than once.

“You can sit”, he invites the teen when he keeps standing behind the chair. A quick look informs him that there’s not anything he left on the seat, observation that’s confirmed when Tokoyami finally does sit down, still silently.

“You’re not in trouble”, he states. “You didn’t hurt anyone, didn’t insult them, just scared them.” 

He leaves in a blank space there, one that Tokoyami doesn’t fill in. His own fault, probably: he didn’t phrase anything as a question.  

“I just want to understand why exactly you decided to”, he adds when the teenager stays silent.

“…I did not.”, Tokoyami finally speaks. “Dark-Shadow went against my own begrudging will. I have formally apologized to them already.”

Dark Shadow almost makes move to come out of Tokoyami’s drawn back, but Aizawa doesn’t have time to tell her anything before she’s pulled back. Seemingly, Tokoyami doesn’t need his help to 'control her’.

(Sometimes, he wonders whether he should treat both of them as different people, but Tokoyami has shared before that she was 'nothing more than but a reflection of his own soul’. He had been dubious, but it’s true he’s been able to observe how smoothly she interacted with his emotions, answered to his feelings, much like most quirks do. 

Though, he should have known she wasn’t just like “most quirks”, and that on more than just a power-scale level. It was literally in Tokoyami’s words all since he first talked about her: she, not it. 

If Tokoyami considers her part of his soul, he’s not going to say he knows better than his student.)

“Right. Did she ?”

“No, she has not, and for that I have apologized in her stead already. I would have her apologize as well if I only could.”

Aizawa finds himself shrugging, once again. “I couldn’t care less if you did or didn’t. I do care to know why Dark Shadow won’t apologize.Mind sharing?”

“She has been… wary and stressed, and her temper blew too suddenly”, he says. Then he’s adding something else in a way that sounds like an afterthought to Aizawa’s ears. “On the wrong person.”

“Which means?” he asks Tokoyami.

He doesn’t answer immediately, but his hands go to scratch at his feathers again. 

The silence stretches on, and on, up until the teen finally does break it again.

“Nothing much, truthfully. They had been speaking too… loudly, and that was her snapping point. I have spoken to her already. Sensei, I hereby promise, it will not happen again.”

Well. If that was it, Aizawa is just fine keeping it at that. Bad days happen to everyone, he is very well aware of that. The event was harmless, anyway.

“Well“, he shrugs. ”As long as it doesn’t happen again, you’re fine. You can return to your dorm.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There are a lot of things Aizawa prides himself in. Noticing is one of those things. Can’t be an underground hero if you don’t take notice of what’s happening around you. There’s a lot of things you need to be careful about, need to be on the lookout for. 

The twitch of a hand on a weapon, concealed in a pocket, for example.

Aizawa is also realizing he’s either pretty shity at noticing some other things, or else maybe his students are masterminds at hiding those things. He’s pretty sure it’s both, unfortunately.

It started with Deku and Bakugou’s situation, and it continued with Todoroki. That one situation isn’t solved, still ongoing, but now, there’s also another situation.

The morning he finally notices something is wrong is a rainy one. It means his joints aren’t happy with him, but it also means Dark Shadow is a much more active presence in class, with the sun hidden behind the clouds.

The sun being absent usually means Dark Shadow is more exuberant, a stark contrast to Tokoyami’s discreet attitude. Tokoyami manages to keep her under control well enough, though, so he lets it fly. When he doesn’t, the chaos is just her flying around and wreaking havoc in a way that doesn’t mean destruction. 

Tokoyami’s slowly been getting better and better at calming her down, too, and Aizawa hasn’t had to erase his quirk and her in a very long time.

So she’s in no way a concern. This morning is no exception, given Dark Shadow is busy enough trying to nibble on Sero’s pencils that he can simply leave her to it. Sero didn’t seem to mind and Tokoyami didn’t either, so that was fine to ignore.

There are gasps when he announces a test for next week, and there’s the usual chattering that calms down whenever he glares in the right direction. The occasional verbal fight almost started between an unwilling Midoriya and Bakugou, but they stopped themselves just in time. A nice peace of change.

The lesson goes as well as it could go.

Dark Shadow was withdrawn today, though. And that was the word he should have been looking for. Withdrawn. Not just calm, or at ease. He hadn’t realized, but it had been quite a while since he had last heard her shrill, or shouts, or even speak up in the middle of his sentence, disturbing classes.

He only realises because Yaoyorozu drags it to his shitty attention after classes, Iida standing straight behind her.

“..and so we were pretty worried, and decided to inform a trusted adult of the fact”, she finishes, something resolute in her gaze.

“Right. Thanks for telling me. Would you mind sharing more?”, he asks, pencil at the ready. Emotional comfort has never been his strong suit, but Aizawa does know how to reassure somebody through actions, if only slightly.

Here the way he starts taking notes is more for his own benefit than the students’ in front of him, but he’ll say it still counts.

“Sure sir!”, Iida goes. “What exactly would you want to know?”

“When you think it started, mostly”, he asks.

“Well, Hagakure was actually the first one who noticed. According to her, he started sitting alone at lunch, maybe around two weeks ago? He used to eat alone sometimes, but not nearly as often. Normally, he’d usually eat with her or Koda and Shoji.. We’ll ask her the exact date if you want it” is Yaoyorozu’s answer.

“That’s fine, thank you”, he says. He doesn’t like it, but his mind’s presenting him a suspicion it has been building ever since his class’s representatives started sharing their worries to him.  

Apparently, Tokyami has been eating as early as possible, when the rest of his class hadn’t even arrived at the cafeteria. Up until he had recently stopped eating there as a whole. And while the fact Tokoyami treasures his solitude doesn’t surprise him, it is odd for him to be refusing the free restoration service Yuei offers. And, most of all, it’s weird how this coincides with his sudden attitude in classes.

“I’ll be looking into it. Don’t hesitate coming back if you ever have more to share”, he says to Yaoyorozu and Iida.

“And thanks for informing me of this”, he adds, after the two of his students have firmly promised him they will.

He should have known something was going on earlier. Tokoyami might have a broody aura sometimes, but it’s always in a theatre-kid, dramatical or gothical way.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He convokes Hagakure to his office as soon as he can, so the following Wednesday. Yaoyorozu and Iida spoke to him only last afternoon, so he did it on a pretty short notice.

It’s all a bit too official, and it’s one of the first times he’s ever convoked anyone other than Midoriya and Todoroki, so he can understand why she would be so freaked out.

That, though, is a little much. He can’t see her twisting her hands anxiously around, quite obviously. But he can hear the way she is shuffling behind her seat, and accurately guess she is hesitant.

“You can sit”, he says. “Or don’t. Do whatever you want. This isn’t anything official, I just had a question to ask you.”

“Oh! Okay, phew. I thought I was in trouble. Not that I did anything that would have me in trouble! It’s just I thought maybe I had because, y'know, you convoked me and that’s not something you usually do, so….”

He blinks at the stream of words. Right. One of his chatty students.

“ Right. Well, consider this like a post-lesson discussion. This just needed a little more privacy”, he says, then cuts right to it. “Have you been noticing anything off about Tokoyami recently?”

There is a slight pause, and Aizawa can only suppose there is a confused expression on the face he can’t see. Wondering why he is asking her and not one of Tokoyami’s close friends instead, most likely. If he's asking her, specifically, it's because he's pretty sure she eats at the same time Tokoyami does.

“Hmm. Not really? I haven’t been talking to him much. Or well, he also hasn’t been talking much at all. Not that I mind! Koda doesn’t talk and it’s alright. It’s just that Tokoyami used to chat with us, so it’s weird he isn’t anymore, you know?”

No, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t tell her that, but he didn’t know, up until now. He was under the impression Tokoyami was quite quiet, outside of fights, as he is in class. Apparently he’s been wrong.

“Tell me more”, he asks Hagakure.

“Right, well, uhm- I don’t actually know that much, I’m not that close to him, even if he’s really nice! It’s just sometimes I don’t know all the books he’s referencing so I feel a little bad about my lack of culture.”, she starts to ramble.

 At his unimpressed stare, she catches herself, air glittering around, probably the movement of her hands. “Anyway, yes, sorry. My point is, usually I’d still sit with him at lunch at least once a week, but recently he hasn’t even been going on lunch breaks anymore? Not since the incident, you know, when Dark Shadow kind of snapped. Kind of everyone was talking about it afterwards even if we weren't a lot of students present to see.”

That he hadn’t known either. Really, he might not give any mind to most gossip, but it is a wonder how he hasn’t heard about any of that so-called “incident”. Gossip and rumors usually proliferate in school like cockroach infestations, which means they get everywhere once they start: it’s a wonder they managed not to reach the teacher’s lounge, then.

He knows it didn’t reach the lounge for a very simple fact: UA’s policies strictly forbid any form of harassment. The only reason he’s somewhat aware of what happened was because Lunch Rush told him about hearing chaos and only ‘seeing’ Tokoyami's quirk wrapped protectively around him afterwards, when he got out of the kitchens.

His eye twitches, he’s pretty sure, judging by the way Hagakure’s nervous rambling trails off. Right. Not intimidating his students start by being less “terryifing-looking”. Right.

“Would you please tell me more about that “incident”?”, he asks, trying and hopefully not failing to sound kinder.

“Oh, sure! Well, so, there was that one group of students. They kept sitting close to his table even though the cafeteria is always almost empty whenever Tokoyami and I get there -I like being able to leave before rush time happens, people pushes me around less, I guess it’s the same for him- and I guess that one time those students were laughing and speaking louder than usual because Dark Shadow just went big. She started screaming but I didn’t hear everything. I think she screamed at them to leave her and Tokoyami alone?”

Throughout the girl’s explanation, Aizawa feels the realization hits him: gradually at first, but now it’s just evident. If Dark Shadow snapped, she had a reason for it, and the reason feels too much like bullying for his peace of mind.

“And he’s been eating out of the cafeteria since then.”

“Yes,” Hagakure confirms. 

There’s an obvious questioning tone to her voice, but Aizawa doesn’t want her to panic just yet. “Did you notice if the group kept their usual habits?”

“As in eating at the same table?”

“Yes.”

“No, I don’t think so! I’m not even sure I saw them again after that, honestly. They probably started to eat later.”

Aizawa nods, then. It’s not enough information to do anything yet, but it is still something. “Any names?”

“Oh, no, I don’t know them, sorry. I’m not even sure if the group Dark Shadow got upset at was the same one as the other group, I didn’t really pay attention to their faces. They looked like higher years though.  …Can I ask why you’re asking all of that? Is there a problem with Tokoyami? ”

“No”, he answers. A bit too stern, too quick. “Well. I’m not sure everything is going well for him. I won't tell you not to talk and support him, but I'll ask of you to please not overwhelm him further if he doesn't want to talk about it. I'm already looking into it., he says, somehow softer, hopefully.

“Oh. Of course! I'll be really discreet about it, I swear. Is there more I could do to help?”, she asks. 

The corner of his mouth twitches. Up, for once.

“No. I'll ask you if I ever think so, though.”

“Sure!”, she goes, just as enthusiastic to help as the rest of her class is. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His left eye twitches in its socket.

Denki’s paper is not the reason, though it is going to be a grade that’ll be less good than its predecessor. Aizawa can deal with that. He’ll deal with it later. He can’t deal with the conversation he’s currently overhearing anymore.

“Are you two going to take this away from my desk or do I have to know the rest of that anecdote?”, he finally asks.

Nemuri’s attention turns to him, and he does not like that smile. It reeks of evil, and of a let-me-drag-you-into-this-right-away type of mess. 

“What? I thought you lovedddd hearing about our romantic life?”

Nezu should have instaurated a no-chatting-when-in-the-teacher-lounge policy years before. Aizawa’s been doing this for too long . He considers retirement one more time.

He stares. Surely, it’s enough to get his point across. He’s known them for long enough he’s well aware staring doesn’t intimidate them in the slightest.

It doesn’t there either. If the curtains to the window weren’t closed, he would seriously consider throwing one of them through it, if he wasn’t too well installed to go through the effort.

“I’ve never said that”, he grunts out.

“But you thought so, right?”

“He’d rather pretend he’s not interested in learning allll there is to know about our fantastic life and listen in instead” Hizashi interferes.

“Because he doesn't care enough to learn about your life?” Nemuri fake-gapes.

 Demon on the shoulder of another demon, is what they are. The day they stop influencing each other is the day one of them is dead, or one loses their memory.

“Right, sure”, he deadpans, going back to silently glare at the paper. 

Another red annotation joins the other. 

He tries to remember when Nezu said he’d be available to see him.He hasn’t been paying enough attention to the instructions telling them how to handle bullying. He needs to get on that sooner than later, really. This is already late enough.

“What’s got you so short-tempered today?” Nemuri comes closer to him to dramatically whisper in his ear. "Headache? Bakugo snapped again? Hero-related struggle? Todoroki refusing to get help with his injuries”?

“No. It’s Tokoyami’s problem.”

“Ah. He’s still not speaking to his friends?”, she asks, having the decency to snap back to serious when needed.

“No. I’m pretty sure Midoriya’s this close to pulling an intervention and dragging all the class to my office if this keeps on going. Tokoyami’s still avoiding them all.”

“Is that why you asked Nezu to see the camera recordings? That’s a bit much considering Tokoyami’s not the most social to start with, maybe he’s just been wanting some peace and quiet”, she shrugs. 

“Kind of like baby–teen-you used to.” Hizashi chimes in.

“It’s not just that.”, he says, tone colder than the teasing would usually warrant. “I think he’s been getting bothered by older students. If not bullied. It could look like it on some of the camera rushes.” 

Too regularly, a group comes, sits next to wherever Tokyami is sitting, then inevitably starts laughing. Tokoyami never seems to be laughing back with them.

Aizawa pulls at his eyelid and grabs the vial sitting on his desk. One drop, two drops, three. The saline’s put down with a thump. They're not sufficient because they didn't hear, mostly, so the recordings can’t count as proof, but also because they didn’t pick out their faces and so he can’t identify them and go interrogate them, either.

“Oh.” Nemuri says, straightening up. “And you couldn’t tell which students, I assume.”

He couldn’t. Or else those students would have already been expelled . But of course, they just had to get lucky in their seating choice. Too far away from the camera for it to see details, just shapes. That’s something he can notify the director of, at least, but it’s not something that makes things easier for either him or Tokoyami.

“No. I’m still trying to find a way to identify them.”

“Maybe you should find a moment to talk to him in between two classes, that’s what I’d do”, Nemuri advises him. Aizawa glares a little more at the red traces of pen on Denki’s paper.

“I tried already. He clearly looked uncomfortable each time, but he didn’t share anything.” Every time he asked to talk to him after classes, Tokoyami was always quick to flee.

( “My apologies, Sensei, but I must go. We have a test in mathematics and Mr. Ectoplasm does not like us being late for them.”

“Hmm. I can write you an excuse slip.”

“I truly would rather not miss time to prepare my copy. It pains me to admit it, but mathematics is not a course I excel at.

“... Fine. Later, then”, he had said. 

There had been no laters yet.)

“Ever thought about having him come to your office after classes?” Hizashi intervenes. “And just ask, directly.”

 Aizawa blinks, considering, two long seconds. That could work.

Maybe. Maybe just asking would be enough for Tokoyami to confide in him. He has his doubts, though. He’ll be trying sooner than later, though. Not this evening since he needs to go patrolling, but soon.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Usually, Aizawa would not be working on a Sunday, except to go patrolling. He touches very exactly zero sheets of paper that’s accidentally been brought back to his dorm suite.

This is very likely why Hizachi and Nemuri keep dragging him out to “enjoy his weekend and live a little”. His own fault, then. 

( “Come on, you haven’t stopped complaining all week long”

“ Only a week? You’re being generous! Pretty sure it’s been a full month.”

“Sure, sure. He’s been way more upset in the past week though”

“I don’t see the point in us going to the bar if I don’t plan on getting drunk”

“Why not? It can’t be worse than last time”

“He’s going patrolling after.”

“Hah, right. Don’t worry, we’ll be drunk enough for you then!”, Nemuri had said, and then he had gotten dragged along. Quite literally.) 

He brought his own demise onto himself, really. 

So Aizawa gets back later than he usually does, which does allow him to get to see which of his students are still awake at this hour. And- Shinsho’s here, which comes as a surprise.

The part where he’s out of his dorm and in the common room is not what’s surprising- that’s the norm. 

It’s the other part of the situation that comes as a surprise. 

Shinsho’s asleep, in a way that seems deep.

Aizawa doesn’t stare for too long before he’s switching off the light. Shinsho seems to have picked a comfortable enough position for once.

None of the other usuals insomniacs of the class are there. Not too surprising. They don’t tend to see each other that often. Their nightly schedules don’t usually correlate too often. It’s actually been a while since Aizawa caught any of them spending their night in the common kitchen or living room. Still, there’s something about that that doesn’t sit too right with him.

He shrugs it off, though. It’s late. Classes start again in less than 6hours. Sleep is awaiting him.

(Instead of getting as much sleep as he’d like, Aizawa spends a good chunk of his night comparing pictures of students IDs to blurs on a screen.)

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He should have known something was going on earlier. Tokoyami might have a broody aura sometimes, but it’s always in a theatre-kid, dramatical or gothical way. 

Now that he’s paying attention, really paying attention, the way Tokoyami’s retreat seems far different than his usual isolation. Isolation that he had stepped out of since the beginning of the school year, too.

He leaves early, not waiting for Shouji like he had been doing up until three weeks ago. 

This is just one of the examples Aizawa gets to see, as the bell rings to announce the five minutes intermission necessary to travel between classrooms.  

There’s more than that, and probably some others he can’t see. He doesn’t like what Tokoyami’s isolation can imply.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once again, in the span of a single week, Iida and Yaoyorozu are standing in front of him after classes. Just like that last Thursday, and just like always, their stance is straight. Resolute. This time though, they weren’t the ones initiating the conversations, and so there’s also a bit of confusion alongside their apparent fervorness to be of help.

Though said confusion is quick to fade when he speaks out.  “I assume you want to know why you’re here. I need you to keep an eye out for Tokoyami.”

Realization twists Yaoyozoru’s features in a single second. “Oh! This is about what Hagakure saw, isn’t it?”

Aizawa raises a single eyebrow. Asks, “You know about this?”.

“She shared her worries to us like we did to you, yes. We didn’t tell anyone else, however”, Iida speaks up.  Aizawa’s pretty sure he’s this close to bowing out an unnecessary apology, but he doesn’t, ultimately. Good. Aizawa’s glad that his students are looking out for each other that way.

“Right. Great. That makes it easier, then. I’ll be straightforward: I’m pretty sure Tokoyami has been getting bullied, but I haven’t been able to tell by who yet. If you could, make sure no one is bothering him and tell me who, if anyone does.” 

“Sure, sir!”, Iida says at the same time that Yaoyozuru affirms “We definitely can and will be doing that.”

Hmm. They reacted so quickly Aizawa is pretty sure there is more to that than just a fast  reaction time. 

“No pulling any tricks or any spying”, he has to clarify, just in case. As much as he wants to get to the bottom of this, he can’t really have his students get into trouble trying to pull their own justice. Again. God forbid they have a repeat of the incident. “Keep your costumes and fake mustaches to your closet, please.”

Immediately, Iida goes to scramble an explanation and a categorical refusal. “Obviously! We would never, it is something that must be entrusted to teachers and adults. We didn’t even consider-”

Aizawa wishes he was oblivious enough not to realise the lie that is. Unfortunately, he remembers well enough the two of them were part of the team that went to save Bakugo, and so he can only sigh and pretend like they won’t do as they find fair anyway.

“Tells Hagakure that as well. And avoid telling more of your classmates about this. The only reason I’ve told you is because you’re the class representatives and I trust you not to make Tokoyami feel put on the spot.”

“We won’t. You have our promise. We’ve been doing our best to include and cheer him up, too.”

Yaoyozoru’s affirmation is followed by the firm nod of Iida. That’s at least something Aizawa doesn’t have to worry about.

Tokoyami hasn’t agreed to a meeting yet, claiming he had tests to be revising for. It’s a problem, but at least that way he’ll hopefully not be getting bothered in the meantime. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He should have drank less caffeine this afternoon.

Right now his hands are as jumbled as his thoughts are, which isn’t too practical when keeping a villain in the clutches of his capture weapon. Luckily he’s used to acting on few hours of sleep and many of sleep-deprivation, and so doing so single-handed while calling the police isn’t too hard of a thing to do. 

The guy he’s holding groan something to him, dramatic.

“Hey! Don’t slam me down again!”

Aizawa hushing him comes too naturally. “I didn’t. Don’t try getting into people’s houses again”, he says, and then he’s back to giving their location to the agent on the line. The man’s whiskers fluffs out in irritation, exactly like his expression does, but Aizawa ignores it.

“We’ll be there at 2:10”, the officer answers him. He grunts out something that’s meant to be an agreement. 

A full twenty one minutes later and the police car finally arrives. There’s two officers: Aizawa acknowledges them with a curt nod, ignoring their greetings in order to transfer the man he had been monitoring into their custody.

“Hah. That’s one weird mutt of a criminal. Should have expected it when we got the call.”, he thinks he hears one of the cops say when they look at the criminal. 

His head snaps to the man in a way that he knows is seen as unnerving. “What did you say”, he lets out. His voice’s usually cold: it’s even colder this time.

“Uh, uhm, nothing! Nothing!”, the officer cowers. 

“I’d hope so. Especially with what your duties and line of field imply.”

There’s a grumbled sort of what Aizawa’s pretty sure is meant to be an half-assed attempt at an explanation, but no excuse.

Aizawa keeps glaring as they keep working.

Then the car’s leaving, and Aizawa lets his gaze follow it for a full five seconds before his mind starts drifting back to his other concerns. 

He almost misses the shadow creeping onto him. When he notices it, it’s too late, and the figure standing behind him is much too close when he immediately turns around when he does.

The cat sitting there mewls. It’s a singular, judgmental noise.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Afternoon classes are usually the pinnacle of noises, to the deepest regret of his eardrums. Aizawa can think of a few different reasons : the students are more energetic than at eight in the morning, they’ve just gotten out of a lunch break that’s a bit too short for teenagers to get out all of their energy, and the following hours will be physical and quirk training ones. Cue the commotion. That doesn’t prevent him from taking a nap while they work on their projects, though. 

At least, usually. His gaze focuses on Ashido’s group, composed of her, Koda and Jiro. Mina is unsurprisingly being louder than the researches asked of them warrant, but it’s Koda and Jiro he’s looking at. Jiro’s talking back, and smiling, apparently not too bothered by the ambient noise around her. Koda’s silent, but he seems comfortable, and he does intervene from time to time.

Behind them, Tokoyami is as silent as Koda, but without the small smile Koda sports when looking at his teammate. On previous group works, Tokoyami had been more active than the current only occasional comments. Aizawa gets the sense Midoriya’s frown is not because he’s struggling on the work they’re meant to be. 

Aizawa’s gaze lingers. Until he pulls it back toward his laptop, that is. The document on his screen has been sent by Nezu to him on his demand, and it’s one he needs to focus on. The procedure’s fairly simple, he’s learning, as long as there are either proofs or testimonies. 

Unfortunately, he has none for now, and suspicions are not enough to get bullying students excluded or even punished.  

For now, he has the worries of three of Tokoyami’s classmates, but no recordings proving anything, or no witnesses. Hagakure doesn’t count, unfortunately, because the only thing she witnessed was Dark Shadow and Tokoyami snapping, and not who exactly they had snapped at. He has no other options than get him to talk to him this evening, really.

He’s asked staff members to keep an eye out for anything out of the norm, but he’s not going to just keep it at that when he could be doing more.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hopefully having to convoke his students won’t become something he’ll have to get used to. He doesn’t mind the idea of private meetings to help them with their individual problems, but he does, really, mind those problems.

“So. I’ll be direct. I’ve been hearing and seeing things that have been concerning me.”

Tokoyami, in front of him, is sitting, and he is busy pretending everything is fine, which does not make sense to Aizawa. 

He gets not wanting to worry others and keeping troubles quiet, but others are already worrying, here.

“... I do not see what you’re talking about, sir. I haven’t heard of any rumors”, the teen says.

He ignores that. Tokoyami’s not a fool, and he’s not going to pretend he is just because the boy wants to act oblivious. 

“Tokoyami. If students bother any students, tell any teacher and they’ll react accordingly.” 

“... What would said reactions be, sir? Consequences for the perpetrators, I assume, but which? Exclusion? ”

“It depends. That can be the case, yes. Exclusion can happen. Depending on the proportions of the "perpetrator" ‘s actions. It can also be a note in the academic record, or hours of detention. My point is whatever is happening, if you tell us, we’ll make sure to take care of it.”

“Hm. May I ask one more question?”, Tokoyami asks, still looking at Aizawa right into his eyes. He stares back.

“Yes.” Obviously. He doesn’t know what the teen is getting at, though. He’s not sure he should have started the conversation the way he did, but it’s too late to regret the way he did now.

“What do you imply, by bothering?”

“Calling names, insulting, making fun of. Or anything physical. On a singular time, or repeatedly”, he says, echo of the official documents he’s been reading.

“Bullying, then? “

“Well. Yes. And I need the names of the bullies in order to be able to do anything about them, Tokoyami.”

“Oh. I’ll reassure you, then. I’m not being bullied. I”, Tokoyami starts to say, and then Aizawa’s office is erupting into an explosion of noise.

Dark Shadow’s suddenly bursting from Tokoyami, and Aizawa suddenly gets why villains and students alike flee when she does. His hand, almost, flies to his scarf. The only reason Aizawa doesn’t startle is because he’s used to boisterous, sudden reactions due to his friends and years of teaching. 

“No ! No! No! No” Dark Shadow screams.

“Dark Shadow, be quiet”, Tokoyami hisses at her. 

Aizawa feels his spine straightening. Tokoyami’s suddenly more expressive than he’s been since he first convoked him, which is at least a start. He doesn’t like the fact that’s over trying to snuff down Dark Shadow when she seems to be wanting to tell what he’s really feeling.

“No! I will not! They are not deserving of our silence! Not longer! They-”

The legs of the chair screech. Tokoyami stands up very abruptly.

“I don’t want to talk about it further”, he says, and Aizawa’s not sure who he’s speaking to.

“My apologies.” he says, now standing up and turning towards him, and that’s definitely addressed toward Aizawa. “Thanks for your worries, but I assure you, they are excessive. I am fine. "

And then he’s leaving, not without a respectful bow, but gone anyway before Aizawa can say more. He likely wouldn’t have forced him to stay. But his lack of a reaction leaves a sour taste in his mouth anyway. Aizawa’s hand drops from his scarf to tighten into it instead.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The song gets louder, the pitch even higher. Aizawa considers putting earbuds he doesn’t own in. He also considers telling Hizashi to shut up: he doesn’t. He just lays on the floor, and waits for him to stop, eventually.

Waking up is as quick as it always has been, unfortunately. Aizawa emerges from his sleeping bag to see Hizashi standing some feet away from the table, now done singing. The papers on it might be English tests, apparently forgotten ones.

Hizashi opens his mouth. Aizawa groans.

“Have you solved Tokoyami’s problem yet?” Hizashi still asks.

“No.” He states. If he could just go back to sleep, he would. Hizashi reminded him he can’t just do that, unfortunately.

Said man cocks an eyebrow at him. Inquisition.

“He hasn’t come back, and nothing yet officially happened. Those students aren’t doing anything concrete on the cameras recording, just, glaring at him. I can’t ask Nezu to punish them, yet, there’s no official proof.” If he were a different man, Aizawa would just go punching. His morals prevent him from punching any kids, as much as he’d currently like to for those. Instead his hands close more tightly around his grip on his sleeping bag.

The frown Hizashi makes is the empathy he and Nemuri so rarely show him when they’re together, probably.

"Maybe Jiro could have heard anything. It would count as a proof, right?”, Hizashi offers, earnest as can be.

“Yes”, he says. It’s a good idea, really. He could ask Jiro, too. His frown’s back in an instant, though, because he’s not sure involving yet another student in Tokoyami’s private matters would be a good idea when he so expressively showed him he didn’t want him getting involved. But then again, he can’t let this go on just because of that when Tokoyami has so clearly been affected by the situation. 

He’s contacted his parents, already, but they’ve told him their child hasn’t shared anything to them, either. And they’re worried now, obviously.

Aizawa forgoes a frustrated sigh. He is going to find a solution, eventually, it just needs to be done more quickly than it currently is.

( “No, he hasn’t told anything to me or his mom. He was a bit stressed about upcoming tests at some point, but after that he’s only been telling us positive things about his days. Why? Is he really that low-spirited?”

“ Yes. Unfortunately.  But I’m not calling just to tell you that. He-”

“What? What’s wrong? He didn’t get injured, right?”

“No. But I’m heavily suspecting he’s been getting bothered by some students, if not bullied. I’m currently looking into who they are, but I can’t actually do anything until I know who they are.”

A sigh. “He hasn’t told you or anyone?”  

Aizawa’s eyebrows had furrowed, at that. 

“No.”

 “He gets it from his mom, I fear. He’s always been too stubborn for his own good. He did the same as a kid when that happened.”

“ ‘When that happened’ meaning?”)

He folds his sleeping bag up with none of his usual care, accidentally creasing the yellow fabric. Aizawa’s face twists even further down.

“I fucked up when trying to get him to talk to me”, he blurts out. “ I don’t know how I should have done it, but it wasn’t this way.” He messed up. Bad. Instead of reassuring Tokoyami, he likely convinced him he’d cause students to get expelled, when UA is so prestigious to get into. This is not how to get someone possibly being bullied to admit it. Aizawa fucked up.

“... Shota. You tried your best, right?”

“That’s not enough.” Not when there is one of his students that hasn’t been his usual self for more than a month now. Not when it’s one of his duties to make sure all of his students are alright. Definitely not when Tokoyami so clearly hasn’t been, and doesn’t trust him enough to be telling him why.

“I’m not saying the opposite, but I don’t think I would have done any better. I think we all need to take a training course. Hell, even multiple ones! The only ones we had were at the beginning of our formation and that was decades ago,” Hizachi tells him, taking his bag and unfolding it to roll it correctly. 

Aizawa has to prevent himself from glaring at him. He doesn’t end up doing so.

“I’m being serious! You showed him you were worried for him. You’ve also been doing all you can to figure out the identity of the bullies. It’s not enough, but it’s a start, and that’s better than doing nothing and leaving him to handle it alone. And it’s not like you’re planning to give up on him too, ay?” Hizashi’s waiting for an answer, Aizawa’s known him long enough to be aware of that. The man’s known him for long enough not to expect one, though, so he ends up settling on a singular grunt.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The worst is that for a moment there, Aizawa doubted himself, during that conversation. Tokoyami seemed conflicted, but maybe he was just anxious, worried, upset. 

Aizawa was sure the cause of his problems was the teens of the camera recording and bullying, but maybe something vastly different was actually weighing on Tokoyami’s mind. According to his parents, nothing was worrying him, but children don’t always share everything with their parents, that’s at least something Aizawa’s sure about. 

The thought that Tokoyami could be downcast because of reasons only personal to him had come through his mind. 

But then. Dark Shadow had intervened. “They don’t deserve our silence”, she had said. Something like that: so that’s a confirmation to Aizawa’s suspicions. But now he doesn’t know what to do, because Tokoyami very clearly doesn’t want him insisting. 

He can try redirecting him to other teachers, still. To Hound Dog or any other of the counselors. He’ll likely do that. He’d start drafting an email, but he’d rather speak to Hound Dog while face to face. Gets his advice, too, which he really should have done days ago, actually.

The sighs escaping his lungs finally finish doing so.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morning. First hour of the day: the class’s bursting with noise. He’s used to it, though. 

That doesn’t keep him from scowling, obviously. 

It’s not like he can say much, though, because this session is the last one he gave his class in order to complete their project, so the noise’s only expected. Between the adrenaline rush and the panicking and the usual loudness, the chaos’ pretty much expected. 

Aizawa, for once, is doing what’s expected of him and skimming through his emails, occasionally reading the important ones. Skipping the ones where the subjects already are explicit enough. 

Students are apparently asking for a supervisor that’d agree to look over a gardening club. Cameras around the school are going to be replaced soon. Schedules might have to be scrambled around in order to prepare for the coming up exams. 

“Sorry, Sensei? Our group had a question” ‘s asked. 

Aizawa looks up, stopping his lazy scrolling. He’ll read those last emails later. 

“Yeah?”, he answers Midoriya, his gaze slipping to the rest of his group.

“So, we were wondering-” 

And there he goes into a ramble. Aizawa brings his attention back to the teen standing in front of him. He might not reexplain everything, but he can clarify if needed. 

It’s ironic, how he’s the one that ends up needing for Midoriya to re-explain the start of his question, given he had missed it.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somebody knocks on his door. Hizashi doesn’t come in immediately, probably expecting him to be sleeping his lunch break away. Aizawa wishes he was.

Unfortunately, he isn’t, and he wouldn’t mind Hizashi bothering his attention away from his copies for once. Aizawa waits for him to barge in. The letters keep flying by under his eyes as he reads, and the door to his office stays closed. Hah. 

He sits up straighter, as hurried as he should probably be.

“You can come in”, he tells the student waiting behind the door.

Said student does, and Aizawa raises an eyebrow when he sees which one of his it is.

“Sensei, hello. My apologies for disturbing your break, but I have.. I must share something I believe to be important.”, Tokoyami says.

Wrapped in his cape, Tokoyami just stands there after he’s done speaking. Aizawa hurries a little more quickly to the door than his usual to acknowledge him.

“No problem.”

The clock and its hands keep moving forward. 

Aizawa considers using the break to pull out his eye drops.

 He considers asking Tokoyami if he’s eaten yet, too, but he’s not certain that’d be the right path to take. 

Considers a lot of things and prefer waiting for Tokoyami to be ready, in the end. 

The usual brand of tea he’s found Todoroki to like is almost pushed away to a corner of his desk before he suddenly realises that this might help Tokoyami, too. It might have helped last time. It might have helped Hagakure be less stressed, too. The epiphany as small as it is, stings a bit.

“Tea?”, he goes, pushing it towards the boy this time. The leaves sloshes around in their can, the only thing breaking through the silence until Tokoyami finally speaks up. After no more than a few seconds, but it’s still noticeable enough considering the previous lapse of silence.

Dark Shadow finally comes out, wrapping herself protectively around Tokoyami’s hand. It twitches. Aizawa drags his gaze to his cup of tea.

The leaves he didn’t take out yet swirls around, unbothered.

“Yes, thank you.”

Aizawa doesn’t blink, but it’s a very near thing. If after all of this, it’s tea that finally gets Tokoyami speaking, he won’t complain or say a thing, but he is surprised.

He stands up. Hopefully Tokoyami doesn’t mind his tea micro-waved, he realizes when he’s standing in front of the appliance. 

He asks.

“I don’t” ‘s the teen answers, one that’s immediately interrupted by his quirk’s appearance. 

“Go on! Just tell him!”, she says.

“Dark Shadow, we’ve talked about this”, Tokoyami whispers in a way that Aizawa can’t fairly qualify as furiously. Strained, maybe. He stays cautiously turned towards the microwave: stares at the spiraling movement of the cup of tea instead of the reflection in the plastic.

“Yes! You said you’d tell him!”

“And you said you’d let me handle it”

“you don’t handle things well”, she whispers back before, supposedly , retreating back. 

The microwave emits a beep just as the cup stops spinning.

Aizawa turns toward the two, and, indeed, Dark Shadow retreated. She’s behind Tokoyami, turning her back to him. Essentially sulking, then.

Wordlessly, Aizawa offers the cup to Tokoyami. The teen accepts it with a thanks, and then back to the silence they go again. 

It’s broken more quickly this time, though. 

“Sensei.”, Tokoyami suddenly steel himself, settling the cup down. “I must confess: I haven’t been quite honest with you, and a sudden epiphany has brought me to see the errors of my ways.”

Aizawa’s heart does a sort of somersault, one that he’s careful not to let appear on his emotion. Tokoyami might just be getting ready to finally be telling him about what’s been bothering him the past weeks. Whether that’s the case or not, Aizawa doesn’t want to scare him away. He keeps quiet, given Tokoyami doesn’t seem to plan on slowing down on his so-called confession.

“ I fear my silence has brought more harm than good, and for that I apologize”, he’s saying, and Aizawa feels his eyebrows fighting him to visibly furrow. He doesn’t know why Tokoyami would be apologizing. Bullies victims do apparently often feel at fault, but it’s still odd- and Aizawa needs to remind himself this might not be what’s going on.

Reminder that is quite immediately rendered useless.

“There are students that have started saying invidious things about some of my fellow classmates and friends, and I am quite sure they would not have been able to if I had acted when I first had the chance to.”

Aizawa straightens up. He doesn’t get to say anything though, because Tokoyami is immediately going back to his declaration. 

“Although they have been lucky enough not to hear those insults, I can’t let that be a possibility. You said last week teachers would react accordingly to hearing about such behaviour, so-”

“So we’re snitching! It’s necessary!”, Dark Shadow screams out.

“Don’t call it snitching.”, Aizawa finally interrupts. “You’re actually doing what’s right, calling out offensive behaviour. Dark Shadow is right.” With those words he gestures to her, small acknowledgement. “ Yes, teachers are definitely going to be taking action. I do need to hear more though.”

His gaze’s resolute, he’s sure : just as much as the emotions he’s currently feeling.

“As much as you’re comfortable retelling”, he does have the presence of mind to add. Even if only as an after-thought. 

“Yes. Obviously. They have been mocking Koda’s unusual appearance, as well as calling him and Asui derogatory terms, and I-”

Dark Shadow makes a sharp appearance, one that almost has Aizawa activating his quirk out of instinct, before she settles around Tokoyami’s frame again. 

Tokyami takes a breath in, one that’s deep enough to make the feathers of his wrists move. “Sorry.”

Aizawa doesn’t blame him. If the quirk he had gotten at birth had been similar to Dark Shadow, he’s really not sure how much he would have been able to rein her in right about now, or even if he would have been able to. There’s a touch of admiration he’s aware of amongst the many other emotions storming around his brain, right now, for the way Tokoyami manages his calm.

“No need to apologize”, he says. “Are those “they” specific people?” He’s asking, but he’s entirely convinced they are, and he’s even more convinced he knows which group of people Tokoyami is currently talking about.

“Oh. Yes.”

Tokoyami seems frazzled, maybe. Aizawa can’t really tell why. He can only hope it isn’t because Tokoyami still isn’t planning on telling him their identities.

His grasp gets tighter on the handle of his own cup. He gets a breath out. One that’s smaller than Tokoyami’s own, but still a deep one. “How long has this been going on for?”

“They’ve only started being offensive towards Tsuyu and Koda today. I decided to come as soon as I could.”

Deep breath, Aizawa’s subconscious is actively reminding him. “And how long have they been acting offensively towards you, Tokoyami?”

“Oh”, the boy says. Genuinely caught off guard by the question, if Aizawa is believing the lack of dramatic flair to it. “Uhm. About around three weeks, I believe.”

“Four and a half”, Dark Shadow chimes in.

“...Yes. Quite about that long.”

That’s long. That’s really long, considering what Tokoyami’s saying imply they’ve kept doing it after he stopped going to the cafeteria.

“Okay.”, Aizawa settles on. “And what have they been saying?”

“Using, bird names to refer to me, and things amongst the line of, mostly. I didn’t really remember them all, truly. Following me around to do that, as well, but that was merely it.”

This time, Aizawa can’t prevent the inclination of his eyebrows. He does try to lower the edge to his voice, however. 

“Those “things”. Would you be okay with anyone telling them to your friends?”

“I believe most of them would not have been deemed derogatory to them, nor truly impacted them.”

“What about the others? “

“No! I would definitely not be okay with that. That’s why I immediately went to you when these people started to”, Tokoyami answers, feathers puffing up in offense. 

“Right. Were any of those words derogatory to you?”, he asks Tokoyami, trying to show him his point.

“Well. I…”

( “He’d only tell his teachers or us when the kids were mean to other kids. He’d say he didn’t mind about the rest, when we asked.“

“And what was “the rest”? You never said”, Aizawa asks. He thinks he knows, has a guess. It’s necessary of him to ask.

“Oh. Kids making fun of him for his appearance. Insulting him.”, Tokoyami’s father says, with a voice ringing of a type of grief Aizawa’s never had to know. 

“Calling him a monster. Or a freak.”)

“I guess so, yes, some might be deemed so. I’d rather we focus on today’s event, though, if possible.”

Aizawa’s eyelid is twitching, something he notices when taking another subtle deep breath in. “We will have to talk about that at some point. Be it with me or any other teacher you’d be more comfortable with. But that’s not something I can just pretend is fine and alright.”

“... Yes. Right.” 

Tokoyami visibly grows uncomfortable, for one of the first times since he first came into the room. Visibly uncomfortable, but not hiding it, with the exception of looking down at the desk instead of straight into Aizawa’s eyes like previously. It’s an improvement from before, at least. 

Saying it’s a show of trust might be a stretch, so Aizawa abstains from it.

“Right. Can you identify them?” 

There’s something that goes steely in Tokoyami’s eyes at that: Aizawa’s glad for it, in a way. But he has the sense this resolution is meant more for Koda and Tsuyu than for Tokoyami himself. Which. He’s appreciative of his students’ protective tendencies amongst each other. But sometimes, he really, truly wishes -he would possibly be praying for it if he was religious- that they’d turn all the energy they put into helping their classmates and friends (and strangers alike) more towards themselves. 

“Yes.” Tokoyami’s nod is firm. 

A selfish and unbothered part of Aizawa’s brain is glad the boy’s not so emotive, because Aizawa as a whole doesn’t know how to comfort people well, but there’s also the other parts: The ones that are upset that Tokoyami is not getting upset over people that have been giving him hell. Or not letting himself getting upset about it.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Tokoyami. Also.” Aizawa asks, later, when the tea has gone fully cold and he’s had to reheat it twice already. The boy was just about to leave, but there’s one more thing Aizawa hasn’t mentioned.

“Yes?”, the boy asks. Dark Shadows behind him, still, but she’s unwrapped herself from his frame. She’s just hovering around, but Aizawa’s realizing it’s a familiar sight he had come to miss seeing.

“Your classmates have been worried about you”, he says. There’s a whole lot more he wants to say, wants to ask. He settles on that though. For now, at least. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On his phone, there’s a pending email that he answers pretty much as early as he can. 

There’s another one, too, one that does alleviate a bit of his frustration at the previous' content, the slowness of the proof-collecting processus.

Ground Dog's telling him Tokoyami agreed to more sessions with him. The first one –a trial session Tokoyami has been willing to try– went well, apparently. That’s all he can disclose, but the information’s enough to put contentment to Aizawa’s mind. 

There’s a link to a video too, –at the bottom of the email– that Aizawa clicks on. Testimonies, it seems, compiled into one long video that makes up a documentary. It’s not one of the many he’s already watched. He starts playing the video pretty much right away, even if he’s not sure he’ll be able to watch it fully today

.

And yes, it isn’t enough, it still isn’t, but being aware starts with being informed, he’s aware of that. So videos start piling up in his history, and he starts to watch more and more, as many as he can, really. It doesn’t make him qualified, not yet, but at least he’s starting to be less blind to the discrimination people with mutant quirks have to deal with on a daily basis. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tokoyami’s also starting to be more of an active presence amongst his classmates again. Dark Shadow, too. Aizawa’s not sure if the two of them have talked to their classmates about what happened this last month, but at least they’ve been going back to the cafeteria with some of them, now that the bullies, higher years –like Hagakure had suspected– from the general course, have been banned from using it.