Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Summary: 

Problem Child stood near the tree-lined walkway, face turned upward, towards the muted sky, eyes wide and searching as flakes of snow started their languid descent towards the earth, gently rocked to and fro by the soft breeze that sang of winter’s hold tightening on them.

Verdant met frost as the white flakes started to fall on the wayward curls, melting onto cheeks and dusting the boy’s shoulders as he stood stock still and stared up at the weather swirling around him.

And Shouta would have been more concerned, if he hadn’t noticed the small uptick of the boy’s mouth, a soft smile playing along Midoriya’s cheeks.

It was still too cold. 

There was a distinct chill, biting and bitter, in the early morning air. It was, however, much more pronounced than it’d been the day prior.

That signaled change, defining, changing. Seasons shifting into something decidedly winter, even if the official date was still a few weeks away.  

This wasn’t the usual biting, dark and gloomy cold that preceded a rather nasty autumnal rainshower that would leave you soaked and shaking, but still with the hope of a warmth of sunshine to warm you back up later on as the rays brightened the sky. 

Autumn was cheerful like that, brighter like that, warmer like that.  

And this chill, this breeze, this air was something else, something different, something *unlike* that autumnal breezing. 

No, this was different. 

It was cold, yes. Most certainly *cold*, with the aching frigidity that seeped into your clothes and burrowed into your bones, making your joints ache the longer you stayed out of doors.

Made your fingers stiff and eyes water as the weight of the cold weighed you down, and stretched across your shoulders. There was a soft, nipping breeze ruffling through the trees and making Izuku’s hair sway into his eyes, numbing his cheeks and made him sniffle ever so slightly.  

The boy tucked himself further into his coat, that sam sniffly nose now rubbing against the soft blue scarf that wound carefully around his neck, as he bit back a soft, somewhat forced smile at the prospect of what was coming, and the joy and dread of it all. 

The memories attached to it.

This wasn’t rain weather anymore and they didn’t really need to bother with bringing umbrellas unless they really wanted to look somewhat outdated or old fashioned. 

And really, yesterday should have been a clue for him.

That hadn’t been rain weather either with the chill that lingered the the slick that’d turned into a slippery slog. Not really. 

It’d been something else, something in between that’d really been signaling the full-force shift they were now seeing.  

And now? Today?  

Change was definitely on the horizon, even more pronounced and apparent than ever before..The bouncy grey clouds in the sky assured him of that, and Izuku’s eyes danced with anticipation and excitement even if he was still a bit wary of it. He loved this time of year and the soft switching towards the chill that accompanied the new holiday season, when the trees released their leaves entirely and when the world became softer. Clouds loomed and covered more frequently, the skies muted and still--birdsong simmering out.   

Not that he didn’t appreciate the summer and spring weather, with its bright colors and sounds and warmth. He thrived there most of the time, in fact. 

But, Izuku held a tender spot for this time of year. There was something sort of…special about it for him. Maybe he was just kind of childish. Maybe he was sentimental. He didn’t really know. 

But the soft lights, the colors, the feeling of the season always drew him in. He couldn’t help it.  

And today was the first real glimmer of what was coming, the first hint of the spirit of the season. Yesterday hadn’t really caught his thoughts. He’d been too distracted, too caught up in everything else to really notice it. 

Izuku reveled in that feeling and the weather that turned his nose and cheeks pink and filled his chest with a delighted eagerness as he scanned the skies, waiting for the first flake to fall. 

Yesterday had been cold and icy, true. But this? 

This was snow weather. 

And Izuku was much more prepared for the weather today than he’d been yesterday, which could be considered a win.

The boy had put thought into his attire this morning instead of rushing around in a hurry to get out the door on his run. He’d actually paid attention, bundled into his heavier, green puffer coat, toggles closed tightly, warding off the windy sting. He’d made sure to check the weather, this go ‘round. He wasn’t so keen or willing to have a repeat of yesterday.

Unbidden the kid let out a soft shiver, tucking into his coat a little further as he stared down at his shoes, memories flickering.

Really, after yesterday’s debacle and the sheer embarrassment of it all, Izuku was adamant that he’d never have to have a repeat of anything like that again. He’d been thoroughly chastised and the kid could still hear the grumpy nurse’s voice echoing in his ears as he made his way outside, admiring the winter weather. 

With the concussion and the kittens, Recovery Girl was adamant that the boy not do anything too strenuous. 

“I don’t care if you are fully healed, you will take it easy for the next few days,” she’d snipped at him, when he’d gone to see her late in the afternoon after sleeping a good portion of the day away in the teacher’s wing of Height’s Alliance, waking to Midnight and Mic-Sensei cooing over the batch of kittens and Aizawa-Sensei’s grousing about them being too loud. 

Chastising that continued when he’d sat up groggily and listened to Midnight-Sensei giggle at his hair of all things. 

‘I told you to be quiet,’ the man complained lightly. Malice was gone from his tone as he glared halfheartedly at the woman who only grinned back cheekily. 

And though he was forbidden from going for his daily run, Izuku knew he couldn’t just stay indoors, nestled in his bed. His mind and body were so attuned to the schedule he’d set with All Might all those months ago, that he’d naturally woken at quarter past five, mind already swimming with ideas and plans and thoughts. 

It’d been impossible to go back to sleep, even if he’d wanted to. 

So, he’d decided to go for a walk and just...admire the scenery while still getting some dose of daily exercise in. He couldn’t shut his brain off. 

‘I need to do something.’ He chided silently. 

Unlike yesterday, as distracted as he had been with pacing his run and listening to the music, Izuku had no such distractions to get in the way of him paying attention to his surroundings right now, or distract from his admiration of the world around him. And he noted, truly noted, for the first time in weeks just how much the world had changed, nature shifting and sinking into a new season. 

Autumn was pretty much gone. 

Sure he’d known the days were growing shorter.

And he’d seen the way the leaves had begun to fall from their branches in batches of golds and crimsons and orange. 

But standing here, now, listening to leaves crunching beneath his boots (no sneakers today, thank you), he could see just how barren the branches of the trees around him looked. Few leaves remained clinging to the tired sentinels that lined the walkway, and those that did hold on had lost their color, only strong enough to outlast perhaps one more firm breeze. 

Izuku wasn’t sure what’d drawn him in, delighted his senses and made him feel something other than the high intensity exhilaration he normally felt in his course studies or when he was training with All Might. 

It'd been more subtle than that, just the faintest of whispers on the wind, a soft call to just stop and look and admire .  

So he did, absorbing his surroundings, letting the feeling of the moment wash over him and prickle through his senses. 

And before he knew it or the why behind it, his footfalls had slowed, with eyes traveling skyward as he spied the small puffs and tufts of white beginning to flutter downward, reaching towards him. 

Shouta Aizawa wasn’t sure what provoked him to forego a few moments of blissful solitude and the warm cup of coffee he normally nursed at this time of morning in favor of trekking through the chilled December air, down a familiar pathway that led through the park and towards the small shops nearby campus. 

Naturally, he soundly ignored the wide grin Hizashi gave him as he’d buttoned himself into his long wool coat, tucking his capture weapon in, and around him carefully, utilizing its unique structure and makeup to keep his body heat trapped nearest him. 

A very efficient and effective method of self-preservation in wintertime really.

‘You look very domestic.’ He’d received as a cheeky reply. 

He’d only given an eyeroll as his own as he’d carefully worked his way out the door, boots securely tied and thoughts mixing into the wind.  

No, he didn’t know why he was out here this morning, feeling that breeze prickle across his cheeks as the clouds overhead signalled a shift was taking place as their peachy and lavender, dawn hues faded and the muted shades of greys amplified and emphasized that weather was on the horizon. 

It was only a matter of time. 

And that knowledge made the man frown a little more at the prospect. 

Shouta wasn’t overly fond of the cold, to be honest. It made his joints a bit stiffer, made it just a little harder to want to leave the warmth of his bed (when he was afforded the luxury of actually sleeping in it), and made him appreciate his capture weapon just a bit more, mostly for the heat it trapped about his neck and shoulders. 

So why was he out here with snow threatening to flurry down at any moment, with the sun barely having risen and the majority of the streets barren of the usual rabble of shoppers and business people hastening to their jobs? He certainly didn’t need to be. 

Maybe it was the tantalizing prospect of the fresh strudels at the bakery that had him moving through the early morning wind and weather. 

He knew the brown sugar and cinnamon confections were some of Hizashi’s favorites. And they always had a special sale on Wednesdays. He certainly didn’t mind them enough to want to avoid them altogether. They were a specialty of the bakery down the street from the school.

Or maybe he just wanted a change of pace, a break from the tedium and rigors of his normal schedule. Getting some fresh air, however cold it may be, was good for him. It certainly helped him to clear his head. And the solitude of the early morning had always afforded him some semblance of peace. He would often go and perch on the rooftop in the warmer months if to do nothing more than watch the sunrise and revel in the few precious moments of calm before the stressors of the day erupted around him. 

What was so different, then, in him choosing to take that search for solitude to the street, to the pathways along the park and heading towards the bakery on the corner? 

 Well, because it wasn’t really a search for solitude he was seeking. 

He was, naturally, a fucking liar. 

Shouta Aizawa’s nerves were already fraught this morning, prickles of concern peeking through the carefully crafted facade he managed to delude himself into thinking was a sincere expression of his feelings. 

Then again, he’d always been that way. Rationalizing things, especially when he didn’t understand himself and his actions too well. 

Like traipsing through the early morning hours with temperatures low and wind nipping at him, when he could have been back with the familiar feelings back at the dorm, with his blanket, and burrowed in sleep, and warmth . 

But sometimes…

Sometimes stepping into the cold was the right choice, even if he didn’t understand just why that was. 

Even if it was just a precaution. 

Because realistically, he knew he shouldn’t be so concerned, eyes scanning the walkway, searching for a familiar form, and face, wearied and harried thoughts skimming his imagination.  

He shouldn’t be so concerned. 

And yet he was. 

That concern became all the more apparent to him the moment he spied the object of his consternation and agitation precisely where Shouta knew he’d be, but hoped he wouldn’t find him. And the underground hero couldn’t help the new blooming of resigned fluster and alarm flickered in his chest at the sight. For more than one reason. 

Problem Child stood near the tree-lined walkway, face turned upward, towards the muted sky, eyes wide and searching as flakes of snow started their languid descent towards the earth. Though he was still, the boy’s form gently swayed in time with the flakes that moved downward, mimicking their descent. 

Verdant met frost as the white flakes started to fall on the wayward curls, melting onto cheeks and dusting the boy’s shoulders as he stood and stared up at the weather swirling around him. 

And Shouta would have been more concerned, if he hadn’t noticed the small uptick of the boy’s mouth, a soft smile playing along Midoriya’s cheeks. 

Thankfully, this go around the boy was dressed for the weather. No flimsy hoodie and tractionless sneakers to trip up the kid’s footfalls. He wasn’t dressed as he normally would be for a run. 

Which meant that he’d committed to Chiyo’s advice to ‘take it easy’. For once. 

And wasn’t that a wonder to behold. 

And a wonder that, the boy’s Sensei would never admit aloud, had his heart rate slowing, as a small tremble of calm washed over him. 

Because seeing this boy , this child caught up in the wonder of the moment brought him a small measure of comfort. Sometimes he feared they were growing up too fast, his students, losing pieces of themselves with each battle and terror that forced them to act more the part of the hero than merely the students they were supposed to be. 

But, being privy to a moment like this, watching the flickering of hope in the child’s expression, he could hope that there was just a little more time to let children be children, if just for a moment. 

“Problem Child.” 

To say the boy was surprised by the familiar, displeased tone of his Sensei eeking through the still morning hour, was an understatement. 

Of course, Izuku prided himself on the fact that he only gave a small, shocked squawk at the familiar call leveled at him. 

And though he did jerk violently by way of physical reply at the comment, his muscles spasming at the movement, he was silently pleased that he hadn’t ended up sprawling. Again.

Judging by Aizawa-Sensei’s furrowed brow, when Izuku peeked upward at the man, however, that wasn’t much of a victory to celebrate. 

In truth, Izuku hadn’t expected to hear anyone else this morning. There wasn’t usually anyone else around at this hour and so he’d let his guard down to admire the flurries as they flittered about, reveling--if for a moment--in the simple peace the sight brought him. There wasn’t anyone else around usually to distract him or to take away from the stillness, as the cool flakes kissed his cheeks before melting into dewdrops that stuck to his hair and clothes. 

It’d been like a breath of fresh air to his senses, a small break from the stress and near-crippling anxiety he felt over the future that always shadowed his horizon of late.

Of course it was stupid to do that. 

Izuku should know better and this was bad form for a would-be hero, to be so childish. He couldn’t afford to let himself relax. Not like this, out in the open, making himself vulnerable. 

It was dangerous. 

Especially for someone with a power like the one he had, the responsibility he needed to take care of. 

He couldn’t just let his guard down like this and get so distracted. He couldn’t be so thoughtless all the time. 

So with a remorseful sort of resignation he turned more fully towards his Sensei as a small apology falling from his lips. 

“Ah, sorry. I...uh...got distracted...by the...snow.” 

‘I shouldn’t have.’ 

The words sounded so…so juvenile and even more stupid when they came out of his mouth, even to his ears. Izuku felt the familiar tinge of embarrassment working up his spine and was surprised by the fact that his Sensei could keep a straight face at Izuku’s somewhat pathetic explanation of why he was staring up at the sky in the middle of the park…

At dawn.

‘Snow? Really? How much of a baby am I?’ 

Yeah…

Not only was it dangerous for him to do so... 

But he had probably looked somewhat ridiculous doing so as well. Sort of like...a turkey staring up during a rainstorm, which made him foolish…

And liable to drown. 

“Kid?” 

And, whoops...he’d been doing it again. Stuck in his head. Not speaking. Not paying attention. 

Distracted. 

Dammit.  

“Oh! Ah...ah, sorry, ” the boy hurried to wave off the concerned look his Sensei gave him, silently tamping down the flare of self-loathing at his clear ineptitude to stay focused on the present, his thoughts and anxieties getting the better of him. 

“I was just...lost in thought.” He cleared his throat, and tried not to cringe fixing attention on the man before him, noting the thick black wool jacket and the familiar capture weapon that coiled around the man’s neck. Messy ebony hair was pulled back into a soft, loose bun that did nothing to hide the furrowed brows and critical gaze that searched Izuku’s face carefully. 

“And how’s your head feeling this morning?” the man rumbled softly, “Any lingering pain? Headache?” 

The boy’s eyes widened marginally at the queries and the sudden attention leveled at him. 

And the lack of attention paid towards the fact that he’d been staring up at the sky, and at the snow. Looking like an idiot. 

‘Because you are an idiot…a fool…’ a voice hummed lowly in his ear, threateningly soft.

“N-no. I’m doing okay” he fumbled through his reply, “I felt better yesterday afternoon so I just...uh came out for a walk because I couldn’t...sleep.” 

Another lame remark went down in Izuku’s book and the boy inwardly cringed at how unsure and flighty he must have sounded to his Sensei. 

He never seemed to get it absolutely right in understanding how to respond to the man’s questions. Izuku never seemed able to gauge things correctly and never felt quite sure how to approach conversation with his teacher.

He either fell into easy discussion, especially when school work was involved, or…

Or he was left scrambling for something to say, often feeling like a fish out of water with someone so obviously far above him that it was near painful to be in the same vicinity as the man. 

And yet…

Yet the man continued to prod and pry, continued to question and query and never shut Izuku down completely. Like now. 

Here they were now, in the familiar scenario with a question asked and Izuku answering it.   

And in the answering that Izuku gave, Aizawa-Sensei only gave a skeptical hum as acknowledgement to that answer, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he stood across from Izuku, still searching the boy’s face. 

As though he were trying to decipher something important, a puzzle he was trying to piece together. 

The boy very much felt like a bug under a microscope before the man blinked and turned his eyes towards the sky, the snow having already accumulated in the man’s dark hair. 

“I’ve never liked snow.” Aizawa-Sensei spoke to the sky, his dark, tired gaze sweeping through the clouds that hung like paintings overhead. “But...there’s a calm to it all isn’t there. Sort of a nice change of pace.” 

The boy blinked.

Izuku didn’t know what to say at first to the comment and the honest reply from his teacher. 

Because yes that was true. There was something calming about the snow and the snowfall. 

But…

Distractions could get you killed especially in his future line of work. 

And especially with the power he held. And if Izuku valued anything that All Might had given him then he couldn’t afford to get distracted, right? He had to stop being so childish and caring about the stupid things that distracted from the real goal: being a hero. Because that was the most important– 

“Hey, kid?” 

The man turned to peer at the boy (who had to will the trill of panic to ease), as he nodded up towards the man in question. 

“Hai, Sensei?” 

The underground hero’s face was a mask that was hard to understand, Izuku never quite sure what his teacher was thinking as he stood there and watched Izuku for a moment, almost studying him, searching the boy’s face silently for a moment before turning back towards the snowflakes himself, his expression lifted up towards the sky the way that Izuku’s had been just a moment ago. 

“Do you like strudel?” 

Hizashi knew he’d beat Shouta to the bakery. 

The man was decidedly slow when he was distracted. 

He was even slower when he was trailing after a wayward kitten or, in this case, a wayward Problem Child, which was…sort of the same thing, really. 

Despite his gruff exterior and aloof nature, Hizashi knew when the man was attached to something or someone, however he liked to downplay his sentimental nature. 

So it was no surprise when the underground hero had first discovered Izuku Midoriya had slipped out in the morning, that Shouta had made a, not so sly, maneuver to follow after the boy. Concern clearly evident on his face. 

It made sense to the voice hero. 

Because, though he’d sat and tended to the trio of kittens, who still needed names, his thoughts had also strayed to the boy and that sense of kinship he’d felt with the kid. 

A loneliness and pain that settled in one’s chest and colored their view of the world. 

It was a loneliness few could understand, and even fewer could detect unless they knew what to look for. 

Hizashi knew it well. 

So did Shouta. 

Which is why he wasn’t surprised to see the boy in question, with his familiar verdant curls and smattering of freckles, turning a surprised stare towards the voice hero who was waving his arms to get Shouta Aizawa’s attention. 

The underground hero only huffed and shook his head, a small spray of water splashing around him as the last dregs of snow melted from the warmth. 

The duo strode towards the blonde man whose eyes danced with a soft fondness for the pair. 

Hizashi let an easy grin fall on his lips, even as he spied that familiar streak of loneliness in the pair’s gazes

He could do something about that. . 

“I see you told Midoriya about the Wednesday special!” 

It didn’t escape his notice. 

He spied the moment the boy’s demeanor had shifted, his eyes darkening and tightening around the edges, the carefree smile dipping ever so slightly, becoming a little more forced, a little more carefully thought out, as though he were tucking the childish things away. 

As though they were something to be shunned . 

He noted it when the boy had apologized for admiring the first snowfall. The soft glow in the boy’s gaze had dimmed as he’d bowed his head in bashful embarrassment as he’d been caught unaware. 

As though he’d always needed to be on his guard, alert, attentive…

Even after they’d gone to the the bakery, and he’d been standing and listening to Hizashi yammer on about the different variances of strudel, the proper choices to make for the seasons (as if such a rule existed) and of course the proper way in which to eat said delicacy.

That hesitation remained, that reservation and carefully crafted control fixed in the boy’s movements and voice and manners. 

That’d broken something in the underground hero as he realized that he’d been the one to break the spell, to tear the child from that childlike wonder and escape. 

And the more Shouta thought on it, the more he noticed the pattern, recognized the clues that’d always been there as the months had dragged on and this boy had gone through experience after experience. 

Horror after horror. 

That knowledge, that little insight set Shouta’s thoughts racing, his own mouth tipping into a frown as he listened to the boy chatter quietly about how excited Eri would be about the apple strudel and how Shouta really didn’t need to go to the trouble to get him anything. 

“I could have just eaten something back at the dorms you know,” Midoriya remarked softly, face angled towards the concrete, the intensity of his stare a dead giveaway towards his discomfort about the situation. 

“Sometimes it’s good to be spontaneous, kid. Besides, ‘Zashi wouldn’t have ever agreed to that. Best just cut your losses and admit you enjoyed the pastry.” the underground hero remarked evenly, gaze sweeping over the snow falling lightly around them, coating the branches of the trees that lined the walkway. There certainly wasn’t enough that they’d have mounds of it coating the streets and grass and sidewalk. 

Still…

The boy stiffened in shock and surprise as fat droplets of water and slushy snow splashed and pattered on his head, chilled water dribbling down his temple, making its way towards his chin. 

Quirking his head upward he spied the branch overhead swaying lightly, though the wind had died down considerably since they’d entered the bakery. There was barely enough of a breeze to ruffle the boy’s scarf let alone move a branch like this one.

Which meant…

The boy’s gaze snapped towards his Sensei, who had the good graces to have turned his head back towards the boy, the ghost of a smile on his face though he played his disinterest and unaffected state well enough. 

“Hurry up then, Problem Child,” He remarked easily, a trickle of amusement coloring his tone, “We haven’t all day.” 

The boy blinked a few times in surprise before a small grin slipped across his face. 

The man bit back his own smile at the boy’s grin, watching a familiar lightness take hold. 

Even if just for a moment. 

It was enough for now. 

A starting point. 

Because children ought not to grow up before their time and Shouta would be damned if he was going to let that happen on his watch.

Chapter Text

In the course of a few days, my fics have come under fire and been reported for supposed violations of rules where I am 'soliciting money' or 'commercializing' my writing. 

Neither of these accusations are true, but they're hurtful. Someone accusing this forced me to admit out loud how hard it is to maintain positive enjoyment of this site and of doing something I love, which is write. 

I've been struggling to believe, for a long time, that what I do here or in my real life has much meaning to more than just myself. Writing here was my escape from the harder reality of life, where there's been a lot of physical and emotional pain that I'm trying to work through. Writing was that one thing that I clung to to see me through darker days of going through all the really bad stuff. Rejection from family, death, abuse, school shootings and all that trauma. You name it. It's been a lot and it's been lonely and hard. But writing was mine and I was happier with it and posting here. I felt safer. 

Right now though? I'm not certain it's worth it anymore. And that kind of breaks me more than a little.