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Parent-teacher days were the worst. The terrible day where Aizawa had to stay awake and talk to the most ridiculous array of people possible about their little shits. But there did seem to be two people in his class that were as unexcited for a Parent-teacher as he was. Maybe unexcited was the wrong word. They seemed bloody terrified.
Atsushi and Akutagwa were whispering quickly in hushed voices. The two boys were sitting in their usual corner and the fact they were chatting so quickly and quietly wasn’t strange in itself either. What was strange is neither of their parents had arrived and they were halfway through the evening.
“Problem children. Where are your guardians?” Aizawa asked them. Akutagwa’s face was blank as ever, but Atsushi fiddled nervously.
“I don’t know sensei. They said they’d be here.” He answered, eyes darting quickly.
“Quite frankly, I hope they don’t come. It’d be a nightmare.” Akutagwa interjected, unsurprisingly brash.
Aizawa arched a brow at the black-haired boy. Neither of them talked about their parents very much. Were they on bad terms?
“Why's that Akutagawa?” He asked, trying to be subtle. “Do you think they’d be upset with your progress?”
He snorted. “No. It's not them being with us I’m worried about. It's them being with each other.”
Atsushi jabbed his elbow into the other's stomach. “Ryuu! I’m sure it’ll be fine, they’ll behave in such a public place.” He thought for a second. “Probably…”
“Are they… rivals?” Aizawa questioned. “Or bad friends?”
Atsushi looked around awkwardly. “They’re ex-work partners. Their dynamic is a bit like mine and Ryuu’s… but a lot less friendly.”
Aizawa once saw Atsushi punch Akutagawa straight through a wall because he insulted his favourite show. Akutagwa had dyed all his clothes a sickly green in response. If their guardians were worse they would most likely walk through that door and kill each other.
Suddenly, from outside the corridor a loud, brash voice exploded. “Ryuu? Ack- what bloody class is it?” It was sharp and a strange mix of European and Japanese, like the accents had merged. Akutagawa, however, perked up at the voice and shuffled closer to the door.
It flew open to reveal a short man with hair the colour of fire. He scanned the room with piercing blue eyes, muttering under his breath. When he saw the gothy teen, he grinned widely and strutted over to him.
This man was most certainly not what Aizawa had expected of the problem child’s guardian. A tall, black cloaked old man was what he envisioned, not this fiery, petit one who looked almost the age of his kid. He was dressed in a traditional black kimono with a white silk haori over the top, just short enough to reveal steel toed leather boots. He had a black fan clutched in one hand, which he snapped open as he walked, leaving only the freckled bridge of his nose on display.
“Aizawa-senpai, meet mon pere, Chuuya Nakahara. Pere, this is my teacher, Shouta Aizawa.” Akutagawa introduced, smiling slightly. He almost seemed like a whole new person. Polite, with his head inclined in respect towards his father.
Aizawa cleared his throat and bowed a little, before straightening up. “Nice to meet you Chuuya. Did you have trouble finding the class?”
Chuuya sighed and snapped his fan shut against his palm. “I am sorry, mon bebe, Ougai-” He practically spat the name, rolling his eyes, “wouldn’t let me go no matter how hard I tried. And this school is too big, I had no idea where to go.”
He reached up and patted Akutagawa’s head. “I’m here now though. And Atsushi-” He suddenly said, turning to smile at the tiger boy. “Has Doppo been and gone, or has he not arrived yet?”
Atsushi winced. “Actually Chuuya-san… it's Osamu coming tonight.”
His face fell, and he gulped silently after a long second. “Wow… frankly I’m surprised he can get his lazy mackerel ass out of bed, even if it is for you.”
Aizawa cleared his throat. “If you don’t want to be here when he arrives, maybe it would be a good idea to get started.”
The others' eyes snapped to him. He’d faced down villains twice his size and strength but there was depth in those blue eyes that made him heavy. Tension built slowly in his shoulders as what had to be less than ten seconds of silence passed.
“Excellent idea.” Chuuya sat down on Akutagawa’s desk.
Aizawa let out a sigh as he shifted through his papers for the kids report. FInally, they were back on track, “Akutagawa is an excellent student. He’s quiet most of the time and during practical examinations shows an excellent control over his quirk.”
Out of the corner of his eye he watched the red head nudge his son with a proud smile.
“He's pretty popular with classmates all around the school. He helped with the makeup at the music festival which earned him praise from peers and pro hero best Jeanist-”
“Nakajima!” Came a yell out in the corridor, followed swiftly by a blur of brown to shoot in the class, pouncing on Atsushi where he was talking to Mina and pulling him into a hug.
“Osamu!” The teen yelled in return, pulling the figure clean off his feet as he spun them around. “Why are you here so late?”
It was only when Atsushi deposited him on the ground could Aizawa take a look at ‘Osamu’. He was tall and obviously incredibly skinny, even under his shirt and blue waistcoat. His hair looked fried at the ends. One part of his fringe fell over a glazed over, grey eye whilst the other half was cut neater to reveal a dark brown one.
“Ughhhh! Doppo was all like ‘Osamu, you have to finish your reports! No, I’m going to Atsushi’s school! Why? Cause you’ll fall of a building on the way there!’” He said in a poor imitation of someone . “Shows what he knows.”
Atsushi giggled. “That is not what he sounds like.”
In the corner, Chuuya had started to flip through one of Akutagawa’s essays in a fake show of nonchalance. Next to him, his son stared nervously at the newcomer.
“Atsushi’s father?” Aizawa asked, causing Akutagawa’s head to snap away.
“No. Big brother.” Chuuya snorted. “You don’t think he can look after a kid can you?”
The lanky newcomer didn’t look like the most responsible. How he hadn’t collapsed when he was so skinny, Aizawa didn’t know.
“Hi- hi! I’m Dazai Osamu, Nakajimia’s big bro~” Dazai dragged over his grinning brother to stick his hand out to the teacher.
From the corner of his eye, he watched Chuuya fully turn around to not be facing the conversation, his fan snapped open again.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Aizawa Shouta. Here’s his report, I’ll talk to you after I’m done with Chuuya.”
At the other's name, Dazai straightened up. His eyes scanned the room till they landed on the back of the redhead.
“Gasp! Slug! Whatever are you doing here?” His brow furrowed. “You haven’t passed yourself off as a student and sneaked in have you?”
Chuuya spun round, fury on his face. “Of course not, bastard! I’m obviously not a student!”
Azaiwa honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Chuuya couldn’t pass himself as a student. Sure he had sharp features but he wasn’t the tallest. In a lineup Yagi wouldn’t be able to pick him out as an adult.
“I don't know, slug… Why else would you be here?”
A vein appeared in his jaw as Chuuya smiled tensely. “Maybe because my fucking son goes here?”
Dazai looked surprised. “Oh. Which one? Surely not Miyzawa yet?”
“Um… It's me, Dazai-san.” Akutagawa spoke up quietly. “Did you not watch the sports festival? I came second.”
“Oh yeah!” He said with a grin, slapping his hands together. “Ryuunosuke! Nakajimia beat you, oh, I remember now. You were really terrible, if I remember."
“Oi. Don’t talk to him like that.” The redhead said, stepping protectively in front of his son.
They looked ready to throw down in the middle of the classroom. Other parents were stepping back or leaving entirely, pulling their children with them. Aizawa sighed and stepped between them.
“Do not fight. If you can’t be in the same room as each other, one of you step outside while I talk to one, then swap.”
Dazai smiled, ear to ear but not with his eyes. “Great idea. You heard him Chibi, out you go!”
“Ack. You go. I was here first.”
Atsushi tugged his brother's sleeve. “Come on. It’ll take two seconds.”
With a huff, Dazai followed him out, glaring back at Chuuya as he went before finally sticking his tongue out childishly as he turned round the door.
“God I hate that bastard.” Chuuya rolled his eyes. “Anyway. Shall we get on with it?” He asked, turning back to Aizawa.
With a sigh, he reached for the file yet again.