Shota Aizawa was exhausted.

Actually, no, maybe that was being way too generous. 

At the moment, he pretty much felt like he had one foot in a grave, and maybe because that latter line of thinking of just 'exhausted' could be the reason he could so easily forgo his own health every night. All to catch another random criminal who, by all means, should maybe spend his time elsewhere other than trying to pry open a window with a cricket bat at three a.m.

Shota hadn't forgotten the feeling of his steel toed boots impacting the back of the idiot's head, silently hoping that maybe the hit would rearranged his mind and make him realize how stupid of an idea it was to try to rob a store so close to a Hero Agency.

Wishful thinking on his part, but he always had some sliver of hope that common sense was contagious, whatever good that did.

Currently, as Shota trudged his way down the famous hallways of UA High School with a window glare annoyingly hitting his eyes every few steps, he felt like the act of simply walking was akin to slogging through a swamp knee deep with in water while the sun beat down from above without a shred of remorse.

Honestly, forcing an Underground Hero to have to show their pale skin to daylight should be illegal somewhere in the Hero Handbook, the text sitting snugly under something or another detailing about torture and how it was wrong.

"Just for today, then it will be easier." Shota grumbled from behind his layered capturing tape thrown haphazardly across his shoulders, the thing annoyingly drooping slightly more to the left and causing him to fix it, just so he could be a dick's hair closer to being what Nezu called 'presentable'.

Exhaling his thoughts and frustration, Shota found Meeting Room Seven with the door already open. So, with little fanfare, he stepped in and shut the door with an audible click.

He knew he was late, Shota was always late, both to stave off small talk and to maybe catch a few more minutes of shut eye before he was inevitably dragged back to suffer.

"Hello Aizawa, it is nice of you to join us." 

The all to familiar squeak of principal Nezu's voice entered Shota's ears, and he was fairly certain there were both hidden threats and a joke in Nezu's words; all by the way the Chimera waved at him and spoke way too cheerfully.

However, Shota temporarily ignored the rodent and did what he always did, dragging his tired eyes across the room, noting every person, their reactions to him, possible entrance and exit, along with who he would fight first if all hell broke lose.

He had his fair share of fun with Mind Quirks.

Paranoia was putting it lightly, but that same 'light' paranoia had kept him alive so far. Well, at least alive long enough to complain about meetings that were thankfully held past lunch time.

"Of course principal." Shota said mechanically, registering each of the teachers of UA and where they sat around the U-shaped— of course it was U-shaped— table in their respective positions.

Midnight, or Nemuri Kayama, had glanced his way briefly simply out of instinct, more so interested in one of her nails that needed to be readjusted soon; most likely during an important part where he would have to reiterate it to her later.

Present Mic, or Hizashi Yamada, was napping, his sunglasses hiding his eyes but failing miserably to do the same for the snot bubble which had formed while his head rocked back and forth every few seconds.

The others were also present, sitting upright, aware, and eagerly awaiting. Cementos in all his blocky cement glory with a chaste smile, Snipe silently and stoically looking forward with his cowboy hat hiding his face, Thirteen without her hero costume for once twiddling with her hair while stifling a yawn, Ectoplasm unreadable as always except for his index finger tapping the table, Vlad King tapping away at a laptop, and the short old lady Recovery Girl— or Granny Chiyo as she demanded to be called— smiling softly as she saw him.

She revealed one of those gummies she carried, and as Shota walked to his seat he gladly took it from her and let the small taste of heaven enter his mouth as he plopped down and crossed his arms.

With a sharp elbow, needlessly harder for effect, He hit Hizashi in the ribs to wake him up.

He was not a little jealous he was sleeping, definitely not, it would be illogical to let emotions dictate his actions.

"Ow!" The loud mouth made his venture into dreamlands even more obvious, all eyes turning to the blonde haired idiot as he gulped and tried to play it off. "Sorry, got a crick in my neck from waiting so long for Shota."

Well played.

Nezu suddenly clapped, focusing all attention back on him, his beady black eyes still gleaming with the ominous shimmer they always held as he slowly met each and every one's gaze one at a time.

"As always, let's begin our monthly meeting to discuss the happenings of this great establishment. Kuronaba-san, if you would?"

Ectoplasm sat up, the front of his trench coat pushed aside to reveal a binder, and with a throat clear, he began to drawl on about the school's budget, marketing campaign costs, loss for the quarter, maintenance, and material costs because Power Loader was currently away visiting I-Island with his third year class.

Next came Hizashi with marketing and a few concerning articles, his louder than normal cadence a bit more irritating as he kept turning Shota's way to get back at the elbow jab from earlier.

Then came Midnight, the woman probably unaware she had produced a comb at one point and started to brush her hair long purple hair, something she always did out of habit. She spoke of a few new ideas that could be implemented, even about dorms, seeing as Shiketsu,— UA's 'rival'—had done so last year.

Nezu, for all his stature of maybe four feet tall, seemed larger than everyone, small paw expertly jotting down the important bits here and there with an occasional dip of his head in acknowledgment.

"Now." The rodent set his writing utensil down. "Would anyone like to bring up complaints, ideas we could maybe expand on, or classes to implement come our next batch of first years."

Snipe raised a thumb to point at himself, cowboy brim lifting up and letting everyone see a face with so many scars, it was fairly obvious why he always wore a mask. His only good eye was deep black, unwavering as he stared down the principal.

"I'm sure you're smart enough to notice Sir," The accent that touched each word was all too familiar. "More firearms are being used by villains as of lately. So, I propose we should add Gun Dancing back on the menu, just to be safe and all."

Nezu cocked his head, "Yes, the recent data reports I 'borrowed' from a few local precincts do show a slight rise, I am glad that being a third year teacher hasn't hyper focused you only here, its good to see UA's teachings have done well. We can discuss more on it later, but I am sure if we do approve the class, Eraser Head will do swimmingly teaching the first years how to handle firearms and ammunition."

Shota tensed and swallowed hard at Nezu's last few words. A wave of nervousness washing over him for the first time in a long time. A feeling akin an old lover, heart racing slightly quicker in anticipation for what came next.

"Actually, about teaching the first years." Shota spoke fairly loud, drawing attention back to him, and also noticing to his side Hizashi raising both eyebrows in confusion. "I would like to formally ask if I could resign from being home room and heroics teacher for Class 1-A."

Midnight was the first to talk, she was always good at quick witted comebacks, except now instead it was to prod him for answers. 

"What? Why? You are always the first to ask to teach them. In your own words, 'to let them see hero work for what it really is'."

Shota nodded slowly, "And you're right, but this is something I decided a month or so ago."

Present Mic scoffed, "Who are you and what did you do with my Shota? This makes no sense, it sounds like a last minute thing bro?"

Shota rolled his eyes while exhaling heavily, "It sort of was."

Vlad King finally spoke, grimm voice striking as always, "if so, then such a decision should not be made hastily. Although yes, we do get many complaints about your teaching style, graduates always send emails or letters thanking you personally. You do good work Aizawa."

Shota opened his mouth, shut it, then furrowed his eyebrows before surveying the room.

They were all waiting.

"It's a favor, a... friend that I owe my life to. He saved me from certain death."

Midnight raised an eyebrow, "Saved your life? The raid of the human trafficking ring you busted all those years ago, was this friend of yours there, you never mentioned him?"

Nezu decided it was his turn to speak up, "Mirio Togata, The currently ranked 150th hero, 29 years old, Hero name Lemillion."

Shota nodded, knowing back then to have spoken about it to him, but was still a little surprised Nezu could remember something from so long ago.

Midnight slammed her hands on the table, "So? He saved your life, okay? What does that have to do with you stepping down as a teacher?"

Cementos spoke next, "I must agree with Kayama here, what does this have to do with your sudden change of heart of teaching the first years?" 

Shota closed his eyes, letting his thoughts roll around in uncertainty for a few moments before opening them again.

"For my position, he would like to teach Class 1-A."

The silence was palpable, a plethora of emotions passing and going among their faces like a slideshow, and only after a while did they finally settle on disbelief.

"No offense to your um... friend?" Hizashi put a hand on Shota's shoulder. "But we, more so the principal, can't just hire someone for a favor they ask of you."

The silence came again, and Shota simply exchanged looks with the others before the inevitable happened, Nezu took charge.

"Are you certain?" His voice no longer carried a happy tone to it.

"Positive." 

"Can you vouch for his ability? Both Heroics and Teaching?" Nezu's stare became more serious despite his kid friendly features, facial scar standing out more than usual.

"Yes, has the degree and the certificates, he might even be better than me."

"Can he be trusted?" Nezu's tone felt like a knife, a sharp edge inching closer with every word.

"Yes, he talks to me occasionally, I have learned a lot about him to know where his motives and heart lies."

"Then." The rodent started. "I would like to meet and interview him, simply to make sure of it myself, not that I doubt your words Eraser Head."

"Of course." Shota said. "No matter how unorthodox this is there are still procedures to be followed."

Nezu nodded, a pensive look on his face, "When may I meet him, I am sure you have had recent contact with him due to this favor?" 

Shota nodded once again, "Tomorrow. He said he would gladly come by with permission."

The next minute was spent ironing out the details, a good amount of questions about who Mirio Togata was and why Shota rarely spoke about him to anyone. He answered as boring and curtly as possibly, still exhausted and fighting off an oncoming headache no medication would cure.

A much sharper "Enough damnit!" Put them off his back, allowing him to slink off toward a janitors closet where he found one of his many sleeping bags he had stashed around the school.

Grabbing it, and stealthily slipping into an empty classroom since it was the weekend, Shota found a comfortable spot toward the back. 

In a matter of seconds, his vision was already darkening, and before he could even get any more comfortable he was already fast asleep.