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It was currently 3:00 a.m., and Aizawa was simply exhausted. His day hadn’t been anything special but between managing his Hell Class, preparing his lessons and grading tests, and patrolling after dark, he had every reason to be tired. Not to mention, tired was his basic state.
Yet, his kids hadn’t even been that insufferable today, quite the opposite in fact. Now that he thought about it, Aizawa found it almost suspicious. The 1-A students had been remarkably well-behaved today. He hadn’t needed to separate Midoriya and Bakugo. He hadn’t needed to tell them 50 times to shut up and work quietly. He hadn’t needed to cancel one of their quirks because they were acting up. And he hadn’t needed to yell at them once.
Huh. Strange.
But hey, maybe they just weren’t feeling well today. It was early November after all, it was entirely possible the cold weather would knock them out. Well, he didn’t really believe that because not even a week earlier, he’d interrupted an impromptu snowball fight inside the dorms.
No, he didn’t see why his students had been so well-behaved today. Aizawa really didn’t want to nitpick and complain about nothing, but he knew that in this profession, whether it was teaching or a hero-ing, any anomaly could be a sign of something bigger and more worrying. For his Hell Class to be well-behaved for an entire day? That was hiding something.
But hey, every now and then they’d have a flash of insight, so Aizawa gave them one more day. If they were still as quiet tomorrow, he’d dig deeper into the matter, but for now, he was willing to let it go.
Now, the last step of his day before he could go to bed was to make sure his problem children were all where they were supposed to be, which was in their beds at this time of night. The good news was that after making his rounds at the dorms, he wouldn’t have to leave UA to go home, having moved to campus when the dorms were created so he could be closer to his students if necessary.
With a tired but still alert step, Aizawa headed towards the 1-A dormitory, wondering if his class was as quiet as they had been earlier in the day. Arriving nearby, the first thing the hero saw was that all the lights were off, without exception. And while that should have been normal, it was 3:00 a.m. after all, Aizawa knew perfectly well that many of his kids suffered from insomnia or had regular nightmares, poor kids. Because of this, it was rare for all the lights to be off at the same time.
Intrigued, but deciding not to worry just yet, like he had about his students’ strange behavior today, Aizawa quickened his pace slightly, wanting to get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible.
Aizawa climbed the few steps that still separated him from the large dormitory door and opened it. The interior was plunged into darkness, and the only source of light came from the dim exterior lighting.
Aizawa barely had time to close the door behind him before all the lights suddenly came on, nearly blinding him. But that wasn’t the only thing that assaulted his senses.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY SENSEI!”
It took a few seconds and a few blinks before Aizawa realized what he was looking at. His students, his Hell Class, were definitely not asleep as they should have been, since they were all in the common room, holding a large banner repeating what they had just shouted in his ears.
Aizawa had 1000 things to say, starting with “you brats should be in bed” and ending with “thank you all” but all that came out of his mouth was... “It’s my birthday?” He asked, perhaps a little stupidly.
“Mic-Sensei hadn’t lied, you really had forgotten.” Mina said with a sigh, shaking her head.
“How could you forget it was your birthday, Sensei?” Ochaco asked with big, sad eyes. “Didn’t anyone wish you a happy birthday when you were younger?”
No, indeed. It wasn’t his mother, who’d left when he was 4 because she didn’t want a child with a quirk like his, or his father, who was doing his best but was even more absent-minded than him, who were going to remember to wish him a happy birthday on time. But Aizawa wasn’t a monster, and he certainly wasn’t going to spill all that in front of his students.
“Kid, most of the time I have no idea what day it is, so no, I didn’t remember it was my birthday.” He deadpanned.
“Good luck Midoriya’s a stalker and knows all our teachers’ birthdays then!” Denki exclaimed, ruffling Midoriya’s hair.
“I-I’m not a stalker!” Midoriya defended himself, blushing. “I’m just interested in my teachers!”
“Stalker or not, it was very useful today.” Momo chimed in, calm but smiling. “Sensei, when we found out today was your birthday, we thought we’d give you a little surprise party tonight, but I didn’t think you wouldn’t remember it at all.”
“Most of the time, I remember my birthday when Mic blasts my ears to celebrate, not before.” Aizawa admitted with a shrug. “I’m surprised he didn’t do it today, actually.”
“We asked him not to.” Ojiro explained. “He told us you probably wouldn’t remember it was your birthday, so we asked him not to say anything, just to surprise you.”
“Wait, is that why you were that well-behaved today?” Aizawa asked, realizing this.
“Ha ha, was it that obvious?” Kirishima chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head.
“Kid, no fights broke out in heroics class; I didn’t have to yell at you to get you to work in class, and the school is still in one piece.”
“You’re exaggerating, Sensei. We’re not that bad…” Midoriya said softly.
“You have nothing to say, nerd!” Bakugo exclaimed violently in response.
“You’re no better, Bakugo!” Jirou countered.
And just as a fight seemed about to break out, Hagakure intervened. “Hey, we’ve not been quiet all day to lose focus now! Anyway, Sensei, Happy Birthday! Now come eat some cake with us!” The invisible girl demanded, grabbing her teacher's left arm and dragging him towards the table where a huge cake was indeed sitting.
In no time at all, Aizawa found himself sitting at the large table, a slice of cake in front of him. Confident and wary at the same time, the hero took a bite and had to admit that the cake was excellent. “Sato, I have to admit you really went the extra mile with this one. Give me a list of everything you used, and I’ll return it all to you before the end of the week.”
“Oh, no need, Sensei, really.” Sato tried to refuse.
All he got in return was a dark look. “I know you used your personal stash to make this cake, and I also know you need the cakes you make to stay healthy. So, it’s non-negotiable. If you don’t want to give me a list, I’ll eventually find out what you used.”
This sentence, although innocuous, sounded vaguely like a threat and Sato really didn’t want to test his teacher, so he gave in. “Okay. I’ll send you a list this week.”
“Good.” Aizawa said simply, continuing to eat his cake.
But his respite was short-lived.
“Sensei, can we let Mic-Sensei in, kero?” Tsuyu asked, approaching.
“Mic?” The underground hero wondered.
“We’ve managed to keep him at bay so far, but I’m afraid we won’t be able to hold him off for much longer.” Fumikage apologized.
Stop Mic from going somewhere against his will? These kids would never cease to amaze him.
“Let him in. He hasn’t been able to shout in my ear yet today, and I’m afraid of the consequences if we hold him up for too long.”
“Okay, Sensei! Shoji, you can let him through!”
Less than 10 seconds later, the dorm doors flew open, and everyone covered their ears, Bakugo simply turning off his hearing aids and placing his hands on Jirou’s jacks to protect her a little more.
“SHOTAAAAAA! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!”
Aizawa sighed, putting his head in his hands. His peace of mind had just ended. But after all, he told himself, letting a small smile appear on his lips as Mic sprawled on his back, it was his life, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.
His kids had thrown him a surprise party for a day he couldn’t even remember and had all made an effort to behave today to make his life a little easier.
Aizawa wasn’t kidding himself and wasn’t fooled: he knew the chaos would resume tomorrow as if nothing had changed, but deep down, it didn’t bother him as much as he let on.
If his kids were messing around, it was because they felt good, and with everything going on right now, that was all he could wish for them.