Izuku Midoriya knew that the call would come eventually. The sheer unlikelihood of what had happened made it so that someone would want an explanation. And soon.

He was expecting the phone call to happen at least after the first week. He wasn't expecting to be called after just the first day. Really, it wasn't even the end of the first school day. When it happened it would have been around lunch time.

"Hello," Izuku said, picking. "You've reached the Midoriya residence, this is-"

"Midoriya," a ragged voice interrupted. For a moment, a guarded look crossed over Izuku's face, thinking that one of his enemies had called. Being the number one gathered a lot of attention, not all of it positive. "You have some explaining to do."

"Who is this," Izuku asked sternly.

He heard swearing on the other end of the line. "This is Aizawa!" the voice practically yelled. "Your old teacher?! I trained you for three years!"

Izuku winced as the volume bit into his eardrums. "Mr. Aizawa? Are you alright? You sound. . . Tired," Izuku said, realizing that Aizawa always sounded tired.

Aizawa groaned. "No. No I'm not alright. That's what I'm calling about."

"Do you need a substitute or something?"

"No. That's what I have Mineta for. What I need is answers." Izuku could hear Aizawa slam his fist down from the other end of the phone. "Why is three-quarters of my class populated by your bastards?!"

"Three quarters?" Izuku did the math in his head. "Huh, guess that means Kanae went into the support department like she said she would."

"There's more?" Aizawa asked. "Midoriya, I say this with all the professionalism that I can give you right now: What the f***?"

Izuku winced, unaccustomed to hearing exceptionally strong language from his former teacher. "How are the kids, by the way? From the sounds of things, you haven't expelled anyone in a while."

Mr. Aizawa sighed. "They're fine. Nobody's failed yet. But that's not the point. The point is, why do you have so many bastards running around?"

"I . . . Don't really think I need to walk you through the process," Izuku said haltingly.

"Midoriya," Aizawa said with a warning tone.

Izuku sighed. "I think this conversation would go better in person. Preferably when Toshi's out of the house."

"Fine," Aizawa said. "But we will be having this conversation, Midoriya."

"Alright. Think you could leave the classroom tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Snipe wanted to get a head start on combat training anyways."

"Great," Izuku said, dread starting to fill his stomach. "I'll see you tomorrow then." Shakingly, he returned the house phone to its holster.

"Everything alright over there?" A voice called from the hallway.

Shakingly, Izuku turned to face his wife. "Ochako, we have a problem."

Ochako strode in, having just woken up from a mid-morning nap. "What's wrong?" She asked, going into crisis management mode.

"It's Aizawa. He knows."

Ochako went straight. Before hanging her head with a resigned sigh. "Of course he does. I'll open that special bottle of sake."

"The United States of Smashed?" Izuku asked, watching Ochako open the fridge. "I thought we were saving that for something special?"

Ochako held the bottle and looked over her shoulder. "Are you going to tell me that this isn't the perfect time to use this?"

Izuku sighed. "No. No I am not."

***

The next morning, after Toshinori had packed his things and was ready to move into the dorms, Aizawa paid his house visit.

It started with a knock on the door. Izuku's joints creaked with every step until he finally opened the door.

Midoriya was used to his former teacher looking tired. As far as he was aware, the idea of a fully awake Aizawa was something that only existed in myth and nightmares. The man standing before him however, was on a completely different level. This was no mere tiredness. This was nothing less than an absolute deprivation of sleep.

"Uh. . . Good morning, Mr. Aizawa," Izuku told the bloodshot mess of a man before him. "Did you. . . Sleep well?"

"I don't need sleep," Mr. Aizawa said raggedly, tempted to grab his former student by the collar. "I need answers."

Izuku sighed. "Come on in. You might want to sit down for this."

Aizawa was dragged inside of the house and positioned on a couch. A cup of warm tea was set out in front of him. For a minute, Aizawa was tempted to drink, but he decided to let it sit as part of his attempt at intimidation. Besides, the only thing he drank was black coffee. 

The two of his former students took their seats across from him. Midoriya held the back of his head, and Uraraka looked to the side. After a few minutes of silence settled around the room. A penny could be heard if one were to drop it. "So," Aizawa said diplomatically after waiting long enough. "How and why?"

Midoriya coughed. "Well, I'm pretty sure you already know exactly how it happened."

Aizawa rubbed his eyes. "You know that's not what I meant."

"I know. . ."

Uraraka spoke up. "It's a bit of a long story."

"I have the entire day," Aizawa said expectantly.

Uraraka took a sip of her own tea. "You know how people from the same class can have get-togethers sometimes? Like a house-party or a reunion?" At Aizawa's nod, she continued. "Okay, so, all of us that were in 1-A have a reunion party. Well all of us except for Mineta, who nobody but Kaminari really wants to invite, and Bakugo, who for some reason is always invited but never shows up." Ochako set a sideways glance at Izuku who held up his hands.

"He's a part of the class," Izuku said defensively. "Besides, you said it yourself, he never shows up anyways, so what's the problem?"

Aizawa made a cough into his hand, grabbing their attention before this discussion could head any farther. "You were saying?"

"Right. So, for whatever reason, about fourteen years ago, all of the guys that said they could come cancelled last minute. I tried to think of it positively, and see it as a smaller sort of intimate get together."

Izuku sighed. "Unfortunately, I'd already bought something that Kirishima had wanted to use for the party."

"What 'thing' was that, exactly?"

"A very, very strong bottle of vintage vodka," Izuku said gravely. "Kirishima wanted to see which one of the guys could hold his liquor in the best, but since none of the guys could come, that idea was out of the window."

"Or so we thought," Uraraka said. "Mina found it stashed in the fridge and figured that good alcohol should never go to waste. So we ended up doing the same thing, but for the girls, plus Izuku." Uraraka started to go red. "It. . . didn't exactly go so well. Just a few rounds in and everybody started to get very open and honest. Next thing I knew, our little intimate get together turned into a really intimate get together."

"What the hell," Aizawa said flatly.

Uraraka put her face in her hands. Sensing that his wife had no will to continue telling the story, Izuku spoke up. "The next morning, after slightly panicking about waking up in the same bed as everybody else, we all talked it over. Ochako and I offered to help if anybody ended up pregnant. . . which they did. "

"What. The Hell," Aizawa repeated.

"Apparently, Izuku is quite the virile young man," Ochako said, slightly embarrassed, but also with the tiniest bit of pride. "When Todoroki found out, he thought that it might be another quirk that Izuku didn't know he had. He might actually be onto something this time."

Aizawa ran his hand over his face. "If that's the case, then why do the two of you in specific have only one kid around the house?" Upon seeing their reddening faces, he realized that he had made a mistake. Hepinched his nose and held out his hand. "Wait. Never mind. I don't want to know."

With a sigh, Aizawa put his head into his hands. "This was a mistake," he said to himself. With a groan he stood. "Well this has been an educational experience. I wish you both nothing but the best. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to call a taxi, and lay in the street as it runs me over."

Aizawa staggered his wayto the door, before Izuku called. "Mr. Aizawa wait. What about my kids? Are they doing alright?"

Aizawa let his head "They're doing fine. None of them have atomized their bones yet, so they're already doing better than you did. Just promise me they'll wait until they get their licenses to go after villains."

Izuku was dead quiet for a moment. "I . . . wish I could."

"Goddammit," Aizawa breathed. He wished both members of the Midoriya household a good day one final time before stiffly walking away.

Izuku and Ochako peered out from their doorway as they watched the scraggly figure shamble away. "Should we be worried about him," Ochako asked.

"Probably." Izuku answered.

***

It was at the end of the day when the thought struck her. Hesitantly, she shook her husband awake. "Deku," she said.

Deku hummed. "What is it."

"You know. . . your kids are just like you. . . "

"I see a lot of you in Toshi too, you know."

"Yeah, but. . . It just hit me that I've always wished that there were more people like you in the world."

Izuku stilled next to her, before his arm snaked its way around her. "Are you suggested what I think you are?"

Ochako blushed, but grinned. "I'm saying why stop there. Plus Ultra right?"

Izuku neglected to answer. To be fair, it was kind of hard to talk whilst kissing one's wife.

***

A year later, Aizawa was almost looking forward to the upcoming school year. There were times last year where he was dangerously close to having a healthy skin tone, almost sleeping for a full eight hours, and most horrifyingly of all, very nearly making a genuine smile that wasn't caused by Mineta's suffering.

A regular year of monotony and mediocre talent would bring his spirits back to their usual pessimism. With something that he could almost call hopefulness, he scanned the sheet for who would be in his class.

His hope soon crashed downwards into despair. The names were recognition after recognition. Without taking his eyes off the page, Aizawa took out his phone and dialed a number.

"Hello, Midoriya residence, this is Izu-"

"Midoriya," Mr. Aizawa said roughly. "How many?"

He could hear Izuku's nervousness on the other end of the line. "Oh, hey Mr. Aizawa. . . how can I help you? . ."

"How? Many? Midoriya?" Mr. Aizawa repeated.

Izuku sighed. "You're. . . really not gonna like the answer."

***

nezu carefully sipped his tea. It had been fifteen years since his little experiment had begun. It was roughly thirty-fie years since Deku had graduated from U.A. 

Greying slightly around the sides, Aizawa burst into Nezu's office, looking the very definite picture of rage. "Nezu! I swear to god I will kick your ass, genius or not!"

Nezu simply set his cup of tea down to gaze at the hellish vision. "Ah, Aizawa. I was wondering how long it would take for you to finally break."

"Please," Mr. Aizawa said. "I am begging you! Just one year without that problem child's bastards!"