Chapter Text
“I always hated how virtuous you are sometimes.”
Is what you said to someone before, and is what you could only remember the few seconds you awoke from your slumber. You couldn’t remember how you ended up in this hospital bed, but seeing the person sitting next to your bed.
“Don’t move,” Aizawa instructed you urgently as he pressed the call-nurse button, spamming it, while one of his hands always stayed holding yours.
“Sensei, what happened?” When the fog in your head cleared, the last thing you could remember was training for your first Sports Festival on UA’s track field. Wait, was it the track field or was it when you were in the forest? You couldn’t remember.
His hand went still, a look of unease on his face, “Did you call me sensei?”
Despite the enormous pain from your stomach and stiffness in all your limbs, you laughed at his rhetorical question. “Yes, I can still talk, sensei.”
Aizawa shook his head, “No… What is the date and year?”
“I can’t remember but isn’t the Sports Festival a week away? How did I even get injured like this?” You questioned and saw that he nodded for you to go on, so you confirmed your name before continuing, “I’m still a first year at UA’s hero course in your class, my family lives in Fukuoka… Did I miss anything?”
“This isn’t good,” he mumbled right before two nurses barged into the room.
. . . . .
After a few more days of care and a little rehabilitation in walking, the police came to speak to you. It was a successful mission you were on that only went wrong on your end, the villains had hit you with a dart coated in the drug they were developing, the side effects and duration unknown. “A memory loss drug isn’t the case for what they are doing,” the police-man explained to you, his name you already forgot, “they were trying to lessen the power of quirks, and from what it seems like, it reverted your quirk to a less powerful state, but also the state of you when it was possessed when less powerful. So your mind regressed with this quirk debuffing drug.”
So you got hit with a prototype, big deal, you’ll wait until it wears off and leaves your body. However, it was crazy to you that drugs like this existed.
“How long will it take for her to go back?” Aizawa asked for you, somehow he was more concerned than you were. You watched him in admiration, even though you were his former-student, he came to see you in the hospital and is very keen on your well-being.
The police-man answered, “As of now we are unsure yet, but the effects are not permanent. The doctor said it can range from a week to a month.”
A few more questions and answers later, the police-man had left and now it was only you and Aizawa in your patient room.
“Aizawa-sensei, thank you for looking over me these past few days,” you thanked him with a smile to try and lighten the mood, “oh, do I have a phone?”
He looked at you, blinked, and then shook his head, “Your phone was destroyed during the mission.”
You tilted your head from side-to-side, thinking, “Hey, Aizawa-sensei, do we work together?”
He nodded, “Yes, and I was also on that mission where you got ambushed.”
That explains why he was caring for you the past few days, so he was your superior and looked out for you. What a nice and caring senpai you now have, “Thank you for worrying about me, Aizawa-sensei, I can’t believe that even after school I’m now working with my favorite pro-hero! So, Aizawa-sensei, do you still teach?”
He tore his eyes away from you and you wondered if you said something wrong. “I’m still a teacher at UA… I’ll be back tomorrow morning to give you your change of clothes and you will be discharged.”
“So soon already? Wait, are you leaving now?” If you had looked disappointed, Aizawa looked even more disappointed and tired.
“Yes.”
Maybe he had more stuff to do? Were you taking up too much time? Quickly, you had to free him from his duty of watching over you, “Have a safe trip, Aizawa-sensei!”
“Then, I will leave,” Aizawa nodded politely before closing the door after himself, leaving you now alone in your ward with the provided television.
You guess it wouldn’t hurt to see what TV dramas and movies there were, it beats doing nothing.
. . . . .
Today was the day you will be discharged from the hospital, and will embark on temporary leave from your hero duties until you regain your memory. All your stuff was packed, which was only your hero costume that has been mended. A change of normal clothes was brought by Aizawa who had access to your apartment, apparently the two of you worked together on some missions as underground heroes.
“That feels like a dream when you say that,” you laughed with your eyes closed, leaning back into the car seat as he drove the two of you down the city.
Aizawa looked particularly sullen, his hands clenching and unclenching on the wheel, looking hesitant. “There’s something you need to know.”
You straightened up, “Yeah, yeah?”
“You have a pet cat-”
“What?” You interrupted but then shut your mouth at his narrowing eyes.
“Your cat is at my place now since you were hospitalized for a week,” he finished.
The part where you have a cat, or any pet, was surprising. You were always impartial to animals, you never had a pet growing up and never expected yourself to have one, but five years could do a lot to a person and apparently you have a cat now.
“Do I get my cat back?” You asked as you felt your hot cheek against your palm, and it was not because of the sun. It hits you when you start feeling a bit nauseous, maybe you developed car sickness?
“I’ll bring him over tomorrow,” he replied.
You nodded your head from side to side before looking at Aizawa, “Hmm, did I name my cat something like a dessert?”
For the first time since you woke up, Aizawa smiled, “You named him-”
You suddenly remembered, “I named him Miso!”
. . . . .
Just as you finished touring your own apartment, it was not a penthouse but not a studio either, Aizawa had gotten off the phone with your doctor for updates of your memory and current condition.
“I think there are some triggers for memories and it gets stronger as the drug leaves my body,” you theorized to your former-teacher, then went to the cabinets in your kitchen, found the medicine cabinet on the fifth try and you reached for the bottle of headache medicine. You still felt a bit nauseous, maybe you did develop car sickness.
Without sensing his presence, Aizawa pressed up behind you, stopping your hand by grabbing onto your wrist. Apparently after five years, you grew taller but not enough to match your former-teacher. “Don’t,” he said into your ear in an almost whisper-like tone, like it was a secret, “we can go get prescription ones for your headaches.”
Was this allowed? This felt forbidden and almost deja vu, yet there were no recollections of memories or even one thrusted into your head. You were never one to shy away from your words, “Aizawa-sensei,” you began and he leaned off, closing the cabinet for you, “had this… were you ever behind me in this exact spot before I lost my memories?
Aizawa gave you a surprised look from his eyebrows raising, he paused for a bit, “No, I haven’t.”
Clearly that was a lie, you could always tell when he lies- wait, how did you know? Why would you think he is lying, how would you know? But somehow, you felt like you did.
There was an awkward and long silence, then you spoke, “I’ll go prepare tea.”
“That won’t be needed,” Aizawa shook his politely.
You eyed your kitchen counter, seeing an expensive espresso machine. “Hmm, how about coffee? It's crazy that I’ve bought an espresso machine that fancy,” you rarely drank coffee, so having an espresso machine either means you got too much time and money on your hands, or you started to like drinking coffee. “I drink more juice and sodas than coffee.”
“You do,” he remarked casually.
“Oh, so you know?” You teased, “what is my favorite juice?”
“You mix strawberry lemonade and white grape juice together.”
Spot on. Looks like your tastes haven’t changed.
So, by the time you figured out how to use the machine by looking up a video, and making the shots of espresso, Aizawa was back in your apartment with the prescription headache medicine from the doctor.
As he drank the coffee you prepared, you took two pills as indicated by the instructions. “Not bad,” he commented about the coffee.
You laughed, “There’s still a lot, I made six shots in case you didn’t like the one I made. Please, make yourself at home, sensei, I don’t know how to thank you for looking after me in the hospital.”
“There’s no need to do anything,” he shook his head, staring down into the mug of coffee you prepared.
“What if I make some lunch, I’m kind of hungry,” you suggested, “I still know how to cook great pasta… I saw noodles in my pantry.”
Aizawa shook his head, “I have other work to do, but I’ll write down a list of restaurants you frequent, maybe that can help with your memory.”
“Then can we go together?”
“No, I still have other things to do.”
Aizawa finished his coffee when he finished writing down the list, handing it to you as swiftly as he left your apartment with a small goodbye.
In silence, you examined the sticky note, only one restaurant- or rather bar- catching your curiosity.
. . . . .
You went to the bar Aizawa listed out, trying out all the margaritas they had on the menu until you started to feel tipsy, noted by the bartender who gave you cold water at the end. It was not a good idea to walk home alone while drunk, but you did not have a phone on you to call anyone.
You will try hailing a taxi outside, then.
“Ah, I should’ve bought another phone first and asked for Aizawa’s contact,” you sighed to yourself, sniffling from the cold wind that blew across your face. There was not one star in the sky, obscured by either clouds or the bright city lights.
You walked down the busy streets of central Musutafu, seeing women your age- physically your age- with their friends in tight, short clothes for a night out, business men coming off of work and into busy bars and izakayas, and a few people out walking or touring the city. You might as well walk for a bit, the bar did not trigger any memories, not even when the bartender that knew you as a regular gave you your favorite french fries on the house (after you told her you were hospitalized for a week, but did not reveal the specifics).
Unexpectedly, as you walked you began to walk towards the direction of your apartment, which in all honesty was not very far from the bar you were at. A close location and affordable drinks, maybe that’s why you went there often. Just a few more blocks and you will be back to your apartment. You will sleep.
You looked up, within your line of sight there was Aizawa walking alone in civilian clothes, he must be off the job. Him in normal, everyday clothes triggered something in you, making you feel a rush of nausea before it quickly faded away. Hey, you gave him that jacket, you remembered that.
Unsure of what came over you, you ran and slammed yourself into his arms, “Aizawa-sensei! I need a new phone and your contact, please!” You also remembered walking down the city with him frequently.
You didn’t see his reaction, but you could tell he tensed up his muscles from the sudden intrusion.
“Did you drink?” He asked, sighing, “I didn’t expect you to actually go drink, I made a note telling you to only get the fries.”
“I did have the fries, but the drinks looked so good- there was a strawberry lemonade margarita.”
Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose before giving up on reprimanding you, “Let’s take you home, alright?”
“Can you carry me, I’m too tired,” you asked him, “I remember you carrying me on your back before.”
Surprisingly, he did not say no or protest, which made you feel happy that he was willing to carry you. “You remembered?” He asked whilst crouching down for you to climb onto his back, your thighs rested on his biceps and he lifted you off the ground with ease.
You hummed in confirmation, remarking in a teasing-tone, “Woah, you’re strong… So, what are you doing here?”
“I was down at the hospital speaking to your doctor,” He told you.
You felt bad at how much time he was dedicating to your own wellbeing. When you get better you promise to treat him to a drink. “Aizawa-sensei?”
“Hm?”
“You smell like coffee, and, and, and you smell a bit like me,” you whispered into his ear from your position behind. “I think you’ve been around me for too long. Don’t worry, I will remember everything soon.”
The rest of the way was silent, until the two of you reached your apartment complex.
You made a move to get off, but he held you tightly on his back. “Don’t, I will carry you,” he told you softly, “it must be tiring for you to forget five years… I will protect you.”
He sounded sad, so you worried you made him feel bad. “I’m not tired, my injuries still hurt a little bit, so I’m happy that I got temporary leave,” you quickly spluttered out, “sensei is the one that is tired for taking care of me.”
“I don’t mind it, I should be the one doing this for you.”
“Aizawa-sensei is an amazing superior,” you giggled, resting your head over his shoulder, snuggling in, “even though I’m not your student anymore, you still worry about me. I think the new first years are happy they got you as their teacher.”
Silence filled the rest of the time, even in the elevator, but when you reached your apartment door you hopped off his back before doing a stretch. Mid-stretch, however, you started to topple.
“I’ll get your more water,” Aizawa sighed, lowering himself to have you lean on him.
You don’t remember the rest, it was a blur with small details of getting into your bed and crying about a headache, so Aizawa gave you your medicine and some water.
. . . . .
When you awoke, it was still dark outside and the clock was around one in the morning. You called out Aizawa’s name but there wasn’t a response. He must have gone home. There was water by your bedside but it wasn’t enough, so with great difficulty you got up to go to the kitchen.
You quirked your eyebrow, confused at the many cans of beer on your kitchen island. “Aizawa-sensei?” you muttered when you saw him hunched over the counter, fast asleep while sitting on the bar stool.
After quietly drinking down more water, whilst staring at his peaceful state, you counted the amount of empty cans. You frowned after counting four cans. Taking care of you must have been exhausting, if you were Aizawa you would have drank five. You leaned over the counter, finding yourself staring curiously at his features. He let out soft, unlabored breaths, and the stubble on his jaw made you think that it must be prickly if you were to kiss him-
Why the fuck am I thinking about that? You glanced away, face red.
You began to pick up the empty beer cans, trashing them into the bin one at a time, until you came across a can with a hero you did not recognize. There was still a little left, one sip, so you swigged it down.
The flavor was okay, it tasted familiar- then memories hit you like a truck, forcing you to heave over from the strong headache, collapsing onto your knees before you could get your headache medicine. You were quickly getting tired of this bullshit.
. . . . .
“Look, Haru is on this beer! I’m going to buy a pack,” you told Aizawa while pointing to the advertisement on it, then proceeded to make teasing remarks on how much your former classmate grew up. “Did you know? In our former Class-A he is now the one with the most product advertisements? His face is very easy to market.”
He took the pack of beer and placed it into the shopping cart.
It almost felt domestic: going grocery shopping with Aizawa from time to time, cooking dinner at your apartment, drinking alcohol, and making him take home the leftovers.
“Oh, right, what did you want to eat tonight?” You asked him, dragging the cart to steer it in the direction you wanted while Aizawa pushed.
He thought for a while before settling on saying whatever you wanted.
“Alright then, oh and-” You placed in a pack of konjac jelly drinks, “did you also want the grape flavor? It’s all one sale now.”
“Whatever you like,” he smiled at you.
His smile struck a chord within you, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “You look so pretty when you smile, Shota.”
. . . . .
“What will your family, former peers, and coworkers think?” Aizawa turned away from you, expression unreadable.
“I don’t care about any of that. Neither of us know when we will die, so why are you refusing yourself to do what you want?”
Aizawa whispered your name, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. “You… You love too easily.”
But that was not true, in fact, for more than half your life you had no idea what it was. It was not him thinking he was unlovable, but rather he told you that there were better men out there for you. That was still far from the truth. Please, that will make you cry, you didn’t want him to think that.
. . . . .
When you opened your eyes again with a lingering headache, you went back to your bedroom to get the medicine. It was too early in the morning to think about what happened, there was definitely something up with your relationship with your former teacher. However, your head felt so muddled to even think about it.
Once you were back in the kitchen, with Aizawa still sleeping soundly, you took two of the pills with water. You should go back to bed, only a few more hours until morning and you want to sleep.
“Don’t go,” Aizawa mumbled before you could step out of the kitchen, he had awoken but was still in a drunken state. “I love you, please, I was wrong.”
You look at him in the eyes, parting your lips but say nothing, too starstruck.
“Please,” Aizawa’s hand latched onto your wrist and he pressed a kiss into your palm, his voice pleading, “don’t leave tonight, stay with me, please. You said if I ever asked you like this… Please stay.”
Who knew he was an emotional type of drunk. How cute, he was also a sentimental type of boyfriend, his girlfriend was lucky-
You needed to slap yourself awake, you had no right being so pressed over your former-teacher’s relationship. You couldn’t help but feel jealous, however.
Coldly, you pulled your hand away and was met with his quiet gasp. “Say that to your girlfriend, now come on, I’ll get you into the guest room.”
“She can’t hear them, she forgot about me,” he said quietly, but you heard it loud and clear in the midst of pin-dropping silence. So he broke up with his girlfriend, big deal.
“Then you might as well forget about her, too,” You frowned, “or don’t take my advice, I’ve never fallen in love before. I don’t know what it’s like.”
His chair skidded back and Aizawa stood up, looking at you in disbelief, “What?”
You whipped around your head, narrowing your eyes, swallowing, “If she forgot about you, then just forget about her. She obviously doesn’t want you anymore. Heroes should focus on their jobs-” you stopped when you noticed that he had tears in his eyes. Fuck, you made him cry, hopefully tomorrow when he is sober he will forget.
“Please don’t say that,” he begged you, crying, walking forward. “Don’t say something so harsh.”
Right. You were being unnecessarily cruel after he was so nice to you for the past few weeks.
With each step he took, you took a step back. This pattern continued until you crossed the living room, collapsing at the foot of the sofa, mumbling, “Sensei, I’m sorry…” but then he swooped down with you, shakingly putting his hands on your shoulder to square them.
His tears trailed down his face and you brushed them away without thinking.
Aizawa leaned in closer, “Tell me you will never leave… Tell me, make me believe it.”
It’s not like you could leave him, he was your superior at work, although you might regret this tomorrow who is to say he won’t forget everything. The lives of heroes are too short, but heroes dream for a long time. You will fulfill his wishes, yet you were under no obligation to but it felt right.
You nodded at his request, firmly resounding his wishes, “I will never leave you.”
Aizawa’s eyes widened, a smile forming on his face then he shook his head, “No… I know you will never. You promised me that before.”
Before you could form a question, he closed the gap and his lips were on yours. Along with a wave of nausea, memories began to come back.
. . . . .
One day it just clicked for you that you were in love with him. It was spring and it was almost the end of your first year at UA.
When the bell rang for class you were fiddling with a flower petal between your fingers, cheek resting against your other palm. Then Aizawa walked in, in his same black, hero outfit and capture weapon, everything was per usual except for you.
A number of things were different that day when spring came, signaled by the cherry blossoms that bloomed all over campus. One, your usual poised self was playing with a flower petal in bad posture. Two, your usual attentive self dropped the flower petal onto your desk because you were distracted by your teacher. Three, your usual aloof self had found your first love and it was your teacher.
Although, you could never be sure if it was that day you fell in love. It just happened someday and you realized it later.
. . .
You blinked, not knowing you had begun crying. “Aizawa-” you sniffled, pushing him back, “Aizawa-sensei, I- I’m confused…?” There were more missing pieces, memories of which you needed, but now you felt overwhelmed. You were the pining idiot, your former-teacher was ever so virtuous, and now you will make him do something he will regret and hate you for. Worst of all: how could you forget that you love him?
Aizawa cupped your cheek with his calloused palms, and you cuddled closer into his warmth to gain a stronger sense of stability. “Why do I feel so sad?” You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so much emotion, a mixture of yearning, melancholy, and love. “Don’t let go, I want to be like this for a little bit more.”
“I will be here, please, stay with me,” Aizawa pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, “I love you.”
He loves you? You can’t take his drunk words for truth; nevertheless, you leaned forward to capture his lips into another kiss. This time, you two did not separate, only parting for little breaths of air before connecting again. You were secured in his arms within protection, this time he promised himself to value you the way he should have before.
One day it just clicked for Aizawa that he was in love with you. It was a cool, spring night in the bustling central Musutafu with you in the middle of it all.
After another late-dinner at a restaurant and then a drink together at the bar, the two of you walked down the city together. You were retelling a story while laughing, and Aizawa could only watch breathlessly with a smile at the scene before his eyes. It felt domestic and everyday, added with the cherry blossom trees that bloomed all over the city square. However, everything was normal except for him.
A cherry blossom petal landed onto your forehead, freezing you in your steps and igniting a curious confusion on your face. Therefore, a number of things were different that day when spring came. One, his usual poised self moved his hand to brush the petal away, but instead caressed your cheek without a second thought. Two, his usual attentive self forgot about the petal entirely, now only focused on how beautiful you were at this very moment. Three, his usual aloof self had found his first love and it was his former student.
Although, he could never be sure if it was that day he fell in love. It just happened someday and he realized it now.
When he came back to his senses from admiring you, he brushed away the petal gently. “You look beautiful,” he told you.